#tew crack

[girlfox]

𝐜. 2016 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 .

in   her   day   to   day   machinations   ,   one   would   pay   no   mind   to   the   humanesque   configuration   of   the   vulpes   one's   shadow;   perfectly   mortal   in   it's   inky   silhouette   .   though   ,   unbeknownst   to   the   masses   ,   this   is   carefully   manufactured   by   ahri   herself   ,   with   a   twinge   of   illusion   magic   at   her   finger   tips   ,   absent   -   mindedly   applied   to   the   structure   of   her   shadow   .   it   is   second   nature   to   do   so   ,   now;   'lest   she   draw   the   unnecessary   attention   of   those   around   her   .

for   when   she   dismantles   her   guard   and   releases   the   mirage   on   her   shadow   ,   it   distorts   and   takes   on   the   form   of   a   slinking   nine   tailed   fox   of   massive   proportions   ,   far   larger   than   her   small   figure   should   be   able   to   achieve   .   it   seems   to   gesture   on   it's   own   accord   ,   tails   flicking   and   swaying   when   she   herself   displays   no   such   movement;   fangs   baring   as   ahri   herself   restrains   her   expression   ,   as   if   it   were   a   reflection   of   her   inner   thoughts   ,   uncontrollable   .

to   reveal   her   shadow   would   be   a   dead   giveaway   to   ahri's   true   nature   ,   and   so   a   bit   of   subconscious   magic   envelops   her   at   all   times   to   keep   it   under   veil   .   after   all   ,   in   key   moments   where   she   otherwise   hides   her   identity   ,   ahri's   vicious   nature   could   be   her   trump   card   .

[exilebussy]

Coming back to the tag after my besties bachelorette weekend

[raspberrybesitos]

cream soda is the best olipop flavor everrrrr 😩

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I propose an idea! Romantic Yandere Mark Grayson with batsib mc….oh I can feel the chaos that these two worlds would bring😂

A/N: "BIYVjhKDjshuguj" was my inital reaction to this requests because this is tew good. If you've seen my Mark Grayson post then you know exactly how insane this mf is.

Warnings: Pure crack to be honest? Like this is not even a serious post. I was laughing the entire time. Don’t even know where I was going with this but…I had fun

Requests? always open!

Masterlist

Two black haired, attention whore yanderes with the same last name, walk into a room with their darling in it...who's winning?

I mean technically their meeting is not too far fetched. Mortal Kombat and DC had a crossover..and Invincible is also apart of Mortal Kombat which means- nvm, you didn't ask for that.

Here's the thing, everyone in the family dislikes Mark but yan! Mark and Dick HATE each other the most but because they are low key so similar. Mark is obviously way more extreme but i digress. He brings out the absolutely worse out of Dick.

Like Dick has picked up a Knife and contemplated murder.

Mark and Dick's interactions are hilarious though?? Like they both have the exact same fake smile and passive (heavy on the aggressive) behaviors.

"Ahhh, Mark, we're always pleased to host you since y'know your parents obviously need some sort of break from an irritant, such as yourself."

"Thanks, Dick! But regardless of how much of an irritant i am to them, least i still have two biological parents to care for me. Maybe it's because they're not patrons of the circus....?"

*backhands him*

Jason isn't subtle and has whipped out his guns, ready to blast that mf. He's been the closet to causing Mark to blow up the mansion. It was a whole thing and you dumped Mark over it but of course he gaslighted you.

I think the family doesn't like the fact you're dating someone who can easily take advantage of you. (ironic) Mark is clearly dangerous, he's half viltrumite and they may not know everything his people are capable of but they know he can cause a lot of havoc. Mark is not only a threat to you but to them as well. He puts them in a state of constant high alert. They're always staring him down, searching for any signs of danger. I'm sure Batman has a fail safe plan all ready to go. They are eager for the moment they can take this mf down. Do you think they have the supers on speed dial just in case? Ugh even uncle Clark is disapproving of this too.

Your sisters try endlessly to have heart to hearts with you because WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING????? MARK?! They'd rather you date poke-a-dot man or something because why????

Mark isn't a dumbass, he knows they hate him. He also knows just how scared they are of him and it gives him some sort of sick pleasure knowing he could truly have you all to himself if he really wanted to. But there's really no point in that yet, you're wrapped around his fingers. He totally has thought about going back to his planet with you and keeping your pretty self locked up where your family won't ever find you. That'd really stick it to em'

The cocky, manipulation is just oozing off him every time he's around. The way he shoots threatening looks towards your siblings when they try to get your attention or "playfully" insulting them. There's never a moment where his head isn't held high, looking down at your siblings as if they were beneath him...He runs this place when he's over. Which is all the time because Bruce is like okay, if you won't leave him, you have to be supervised.

Can you imagine combined family dinners with Mark's family and yours??? First, there is definitely a fight of who is sitting next to who. I'll say your brothers win this and are sitting on either side while Mark is fuming as he's across from you. The tension is so freaking high. It's rather silent around the table but everyone is looking at each other either like "I'm ready to kill him when you are" or "i'm going to kill you, mark...". I headcanon that even Bruce has beef with Nolan. They clash rather constantly on their differences of how to handle villains. Nolan is a stone cold killer to Bruce, who is rather set in his ways. It's no wonder Mark is his son. You aren't going to be with this kid for long. "So, Bruce? How's things on your side of town? Still letting your boyfriend out of jail so you can keep playing tag?" "The Joker isn't my boyfriend, i'm just not into murder, unlike some "heros" are. I like to set an example for my kids." "Ah, is that why Jason threatened to kill my son at gun point last month?"

You and Debbie are the only ones who like are trying to be civil and are sort of ignorant to everything going on.

"Um, so i made brownies with Mark's mother for everyone! Anyone want a piece?"

"Of course, love. You know your brownies are my favorite, i've been waiting all day."

Your siblings act like savages and eat the entire pan, stuffing it in their mouths so Mark cannot get any. Bruce doesn't do anything to correct his children out of spite.

Bruce is also debating on just handling them right here. He could have Kal-el over in matters of minutes and this could all be over with.

(Okay but Mark and Damien beating each other’s asses???? Damien cannot bite his tongue and Mark is trying to be nice because he’s a kid but he then Damien call him a "little bitch boy" and it pushes him over the edge. Mark just jumps over the table lollllll???? Sad thing is, Damien gets in tons of cuts with the butterknife he was just using for his sweetroll heheh))) "I though you were invincible...guess i was right in calling you a little bi-" "OH YOU'RE DYING TONIGHT"

[wonsdoll]

𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 LiES ── SJY

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇

심재윤 ／⠀ female reader ── suggestive fluff + non idol au ｡｡ hickey receiving secret relationship && strict parents (tew relatable) . . . 📂 𝑀𝑂𝑅𝐸 ִ 𓈃 ׂ

you were tucked under your blankets, ready to call it a night. your phone buzzed, it was no other than your boyfriend, jake. the same boyfriend you weren’t allowed to have, due to your parent’s rules.

although you were of age, your parents will still strict about dating. who knows what would happen if they found out you’ve been seeing jake for two months now, not to mention sneaking out almost every night to spend time with him.

“come on baby, it’ll be fun and i’ll be there in 10”

jake made sneaking out more of an adventure, making you do things you could’ve never saw yourself doing, one of them was sneaking out your window just to hangout for an hour or two.

tonight was no different, your parents had just gotten back from a night out, making them easily knock out the minute they get under the covers, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip out for an hour. although this wasn’t your first time sneaking out, it always gave you either a rush of adrenaline, or a nervous rush.

you watched as jake’s text disappeared from your screen, slipping out from your covers to your closet, looking for an outfit. you slip on your shoes quietly, cracking your window open slightly to test the waters.

you carefully place one foot out the window, touching the grass beneath. once acknowledging the ground, you place your next foot outside, slipping through your window. you walked down a few houses, finding jake sitting in his car, parked up waiting for you.

“knew you wouldn’t let me down, pretty.” jake smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“you’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” you laugh, a smile tugging on your lips due to excitement.

jake chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours. “trouble makes it a little more worth it, don’t you think?”

his hand stayed with youds majority of the drive, his thumb gently rubbing over your skin. the night felt peaceful as you watched the streetlights pass by. when jake was with you, everything seemed right. he knew how to make you feel safe, even when you’re sneaking around in the middle of the night.

jake drove to your usual spot—a quiet secluded area, far from he city. it was youd little getaway, somewhere where nobody could find you. the stars shined bright and the cool breeze felt amazing on your skin.

jake turns to you, smiling. “come here..” he muttered, pulling you into his arms.

the kisses started slow, tender, almost as if he was savoring every moment. you always felt cherished in jake’s arms, like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. his hands cupped your face gently as he kissed you, and soon enough, his lips were trailing down your neck, leaving soft kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

after a few more kisses and giggles, jake drove you back home. the streets were quiet, and you hated the idea of sneaking back in, the warmth of jake’s hand made you wish you had more time.

as he parked down the street from your house, he shot you a grin. “you’re getting good at sneaking out you know..”

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t resist to smile. “i’ve had my fair share of practicing.”

jake laughs softly, leaning over to kiss you. “maybe next time, we won’t have to sneak around just to see each other.

“maybe.” you teased, squeezing his hand one last time before slipping out of the car. “goodnight jake..”

“goodnight pretty.”

your heart raced as you slipped back into your bedroom window, afraid of getting caught or even making too much noise that’ll startle your parents. the house was silent, and it’d seem as if you pulled off another light night escape.

relief washed over you—until you were about to slip your shirt over your head, that’s when you saw it. a large mark resting on your neck, in the exact spot jake has been kissing all night.

“oh my god..” you whispered, your eyes widening as you leaned in closer to inspect the damage done to your skin.

the hickey jake left wasn’t suble at all. in fact, it stood out against your skin—a deep reddish purple mark, right at the base of your neck. panic bubbled up in your chest as you realized there was no way you could hide this, not without any serious effort.

you scrambled quietly to the bathroom, frantically trying to hide it with your hair, you sighed in frustration. “i thought it wasn’t that bad…” you muttered to yourself, examining the hickey as if it was a form of betrayal.

you creeped back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. you got your phone, scrolling anxiously through your contacts to find jake.

you: you said it wasn’t noticeable {image}

jake: i may have underestimated my skills :) looks pretty on you though.

jake: don’t worry, just tell your parents you accidentally burnt your neck with your curling iron.

you: can you pick up a concealer for me tomorrow? drop it by my window early in the morning.

jake: of course i can, send me the name and shade.

you: {screenshot of concealer name and shade} you’re lucky i really like you.

jake: i’m always lucky when it comes to you. your concealer will be by your window first thing in the morning. don’t stress it okay?

💌 : hiding a hickey from your parents is no joke T_T && yea i am talking from experience. although it wasn’t so bad in my case, wish i had bf jake who’d buy me concealer.

[mrsokkotsu]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𓈒 ˖ ࣪

boothill x f!reader. sfw — hurt comfort. established relationship ﾉ reader is an age regressor ﾉ reader has a meltdown over being poked fun at by others :c ﾉ reader is shown to self harm through scratching 'n digging her nails into her skin . . ﾉ da word 'daddy' is used tew refer tew boothill ﾉ sugar, lil' love, darlin', princess, good girl 'n lil' missy as petnames ❤︎ ﾉ dis piece is extremely self — indulgent . . please b kind to mi . . ૮꒰⑅ ˊ ᵔ ˋ ⑅ ꒱ა ﾉ re-upload from a previous blog

a little hiccup, a little whimper, a sniffle, and then a sob, a wail, a scream.

you curl in on yourself, scrunching up into a ball and digging your nails into the flesh of your thighs, the fabric of your skirt bunching up in your fists. tears cascade down your cheeks in streams, leaving wet stains that seep into the cotton of your shirt, the collar of which is quickly coated with the saliva that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. the crescent moons your nails leave behind bloom pink on the expanse of your thighs, throbbing with dull pain. it only makes you cry harder.

you've hidden yourself away in the farthest corner from boothill, a little crevice that's barely lit and surrounded by thick hedges. the only way one could reach it is from the narrow passageway from the east, and you'd made sure to cover the entrance with an array of flowers that have been plucked and strewn across the entrance.

you had always liked hiding away in such little nooks, tucked away between the tallest plants and beneath the largest branches, in a world of your own, far from the judgement and scorn of others. it's the only place where you feel safe, at home. a small pocket of comfort in the chaos that is reality. a haven from the harsh world that exists beyond the walls of your sanctuary.

but, even that is taken away from you now, when the sound of footsteps crunching on dry leaves and the heavy panting of a machine draws near.

"sugar? are you there?" the familiar lilt of his voice is muffled through the foliage, and you choke on a sob when the branches rustle, the flowers fall and a figure parts the shrubbery. he's tall enough that the top of his head grazes the treeline. "i know ye'r there, sugar. let's go back inside, yeah?"

you shake your head furiously, press your hands to your ears to block him out. but boothill knows better than to let that stop him, crouching down and crawling on his knees. the grass stains the material of his trousers green, and you feel a pang of guilt strike through the cloud of despair that hangs over your head.

"i don't wanna!" you wail, voice cracking and hiccuping as you rock yourself back and forth, the heel of your palm pressing against the hollow of your throat. "please don't make me."

"don't make ye'rself sick, sugar. come 'ere." boothill holds his arms out and beckons you with a gentle wave, "ya know ye'r safe with me, don't cha?"

he keeps his distance from you, careful not to get too close. you're a fragile thing, he thinks, a flower whose petals bruise easily. and boothill has the utmost care for your delicate self, treats you with the gentleness and tenderness and softness that the world has never shown him, for the sake of preserving the fleeting purity and sweetness that lies within you.

he wouldn't dare do anything that may mar your beautiful soul. not for all the stars in the sky.

"h-hm," you sniffle, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blotchy, lips pursed. "h-hhmpf!" you whine again, reaching out and making grabby hands at boothill, the tears that trickle down the slope of your cheekbones glistening like tiny droplets of honey. "m-my booh-h-hill.. mh— my dadd— d-daddy…"

you bawl, sobbing incoherently as you throw yourself forward and cling to him, the sudden impact causing you to bump your head against the steel of his chest, the scramble to hug him so frantic that your knees are scraped and grazed, the skin split from a collision with a stray pebble.

the wounds sting, but you hardly feel it, too caught up in your own distress.

"daddyyyyy—" you cry out, and boothill coos softly, stroking the crown of your head, careful not to let his metal joints tangle themselves within the locks of your hair. "da-ddy-y, make it stop! m-make the b-b-bad thoughts g-go away-y, plea-ase."

your words are choppy, punctuated with small yelps and gasps, and boothill holds you close, cradling your head to his chest, his touch so tender and full of love that it threatens to rip open your heart. the warmth of his chassis is a comforting presence, a grounding force that soothes the tempestuous waves that ebb and crash against your mind, slowly bringing you down from the height of your distress.

the tears have finally stopped flowing, and your cries have reduced to little hiccups. the sniffles remain, along with a snotty nose. boothill doesn't seem to mind. "what's makin' ya upset, lil’ love?"

"mm-h-hhm," you hum, nuzzling against him and rubbing your cheek against the cool material of his chest, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his jacket.

boothill brushes the sticky hairs matted to your forehead away, tucking them behind your ear. "what's happenin' up here, hm?" he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, his lips a welcome balm on the inflamed skin. "talk ta' me, sugar. ya know daddy'll listen."

you chew on the inside of your cheek, worrying the skin raw as you muster the courage to speak. it's an arduous task, with how the doubts and worries and anxieties swarm the forefront of your mind, each one a little buzzard ready to pick and peck at you. "w-why am— why a-arent i n-norma-al?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, a shiver running down the length of your spine. you're terrified, and the feeling only grows the longer boothill remains silent. "every-one says-s tha-at i'm weird a-and-d annoying and-and, i'm c-childish and dumb, a-and— and-!" you inhale sharply, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. "d— hm— d-dadd-y a-am i b-broken?"

you whisper the last part, a mere ghost of a breath, but boothill hears it nonetheless, and the gears that serve as his heart stutter and grind to a halt, a sharp pang of something he'd never felt before piercing right through his core. "what? princess, where on earth'd ye'r mind go comin' up with somethin' like that?"

he asks you, his voice laced with the most minute of trepidation. "jus' cause some folks can't see how amazing ya are don't mean ya ain't normal, sugar. it just means they're too stupid t' recognise a real star when they see one."

he says it so matter-of-factly, as if he's stating the most obvious thing in the world. "b-but i'm not normal!"

you hiccup once more, "i don't think like everyone else! i'm little and i-i need to be looked after and-d—" your words are cut off by the clog of your throat, the droplets you thought had already dried spilling down your cheeks anew. "i don't act like an adult!" you sniffle. "i-i don't wanna be an a-adult. i want to b-be little! b-but but everyone a-always makes f-fun of me-e for it-t!"

"and i hate it-t! i j-just want-t to be me-e! but i can't-t, no-ot if it means-s people will a-always b-be mean to me!"

you've begun to dig your nails at yourself again, and boothill catches you, gently prying your hands away from your wrists and holding onto them.

"hey now, darlin'— no no. none a' that, yeah?" he takes one of your hands in his, brings it to his lips and kisses each finger, the tips stained the faintest shade of scarlet.

"no hurtin' yourself, ya hear me?" he whispers, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand and giving it another kiss. "daddy loves this little body, every part a' it. even the parts ye'r not so fond of. and it ain't healthy t' hurt what daddy loves, alright?"

he lifts his other hand and places it atop your head, caresses the back of it and runs his thumb back and forth.

"sugar, look at me, mhm?" he waits a moment, and then two, three. a fourth, a fifth. he's patient, always has been when it comes to you. eventually, you give him a tiny nod, the slightest of movement, and peer up at him through dewy lashes, doe eyes shining with a vulnerability and fragility boothill can only hope to protect.

"there we are," he breathes out, "jus' perfect. thank ya f' trustin' me, little one." boothill's voice is quiet, a low murmur, and it wraps around you like a warm embrace. "listen closely t' what daddy's gotta say, a'right?"

"there ain't nothin' wrong with ya, sweetpea. and don't cha dare think that there is." he wags a finger in front of your face, and you watch it curiously. "ya like bein' little and daddy likes lookin' after ya, and there ain't nothin' bad 'bout that. ya ain't broken. no sir, no ma'am." he shakes his head, "ye'r a precious lil' girl, and that's the truth."

"now, if anyone has a problem with the way ya are, send em' my way. daddy'll have a lil' chat with 'em." he flashes you a toothy grin, "we'll set 'em straight, sugar." boothill gives you a playful wink, and the corners of your lips twitch up into a timid smile. "jus' promise me ye'r gonna stick it out, hm? no more runnin' away. daddy can't go chasin' ya all the time."

he taps your nose, the light pressure tickling you. "we got a deal?" he extends his pinkie to you, and you hook yours with his, giggling softly when boothill gives the digits a firm shake. "tha's a good girl. daddy's real proud of ya." he plants a kiss atop your forehead, and you preen under the praise, the weight in your heart lifted by a huge fraction.

"now, what d'ya say we head back in and get those knees cleaned up, yeah? the sun's already settin' 'nd we can't have ya fallin' asleep before dinner." he gives you a stern look, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, betraying the mock-sternness of his expression. "can we?" he chuckles. "ya know how cranky ya get when ya don't get yer fill a' dessert."

your cyborg lover hoists himself up and removes his hat, placing it atop your head. the brim falls over your eyes, and boothill can't help the adoring laugh that escapes him, lifting the edge up with his finger and giving you a smile so sweet, so pure, so full of love that it's almost sickeningly saccharine.

"up, up we get." boothill pats the seat of his pants, bending down and patting his knee. "hop on, sugar." he gives his knee a quick slap. "ye'r not walkin' back, not when those little legs a' yers are so shaky." he gives you a look that brooks no argument, and you comply, crawling over to him and throwing your arms around his neck. boothill stands upright, taking a moment to gather his bearings before he lifts you up and places you on his side, carrying you out from your hideaway. the path back is dimly lit, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, the faint scent of his cologne wafting past your nose.

"there we go, all snug an' safe.. how 'bout i take ye'r mind off a' things with a lil' singin' on our way back, hm?" he coos. "i heard a new one on the radio the other day." boothill bounces you on his hip, your happy noises stifled against his skin. "how does that sound, lil' missy?"

[loveinhawkins]

It’s only once everything is okay that Dustin starts thinking there’s something deeply wrong with him.

They’re out of the danger zone, where hospital visits have almost become normal hangouts rather than something to sit through on tenterhooks. Eddie’s getting the all clear to go home soon, and Dustin feels like he’s finally, finally able to take a deep breath, and blow it all the way out.

Steve must feel it, too, because he starts drifting off halfway through one of their last visits, while Dustin’s telling Eddie how Tews got up on the roof last night.

Dustin’s not offended by Steve falling asleep—for one, Steve already heard the story on the ride to the hospital and, more importantly, Dustin’s pretty positive that he’s barely been sleeping, only just enough so he can safely drive his car.

Dustin pats his knee fondly as he gets up.

Even though he’s steadily swaying towards the end of the couch, Steve tries to rouse himself.

“Mm, Dustin, jus’… jus’ need ten minutes, then… give y’ride home…”

“It’s okay,” Dustin says. He gently pushes Steve’s shoulder, snorts when Steve’s head tips right onto the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna go call my mom.”

He knows Steve really must be exhausted when he doesn’t attempt an argument to counter that, just sighs with a murmured, “Hmm? If tha’s… ‘kay.”

From the bed, Eddie looks on with a smile. “Thanks, Henderson,” he says softly. “Wayne’s gonna come later, he can… give him a ride home.”

He yawns through his words, like just looking at Steve is making him sleepy, too.

They’ve been like that a lot recently, Dustin thinks, like their breathing falls into sync without them even trying.

He slips out of the room quietly. There’s something between Steve and Eddie, he can feel it—and although he can’t quite put a name to it yet, he knows it’s something delicate, like spun glass. He’s not going to be the one to disturb it.

When his mom comes to pick him up, it happens.

“Put your coat on, hon, it’s freezing out.”

Dustin rolls his eyes—it’s hardly that cold—but as he steps outside, the air hits his bare skin and—

He’s in The Upside Down, and the cold is in his throat, in his lungs, he can’t stop shaking with it, and Eddie, he’s—he’s not breathing—

“Dustin? The car’s parked this way, baby.”

Dustin breathes in, short and sharp. For a moment, he can still see it all: the lightning, the blue tint, the particles hanging in the air, and then, like blinking away a camera flash, it’s gone.

His mom frowns, steps closer. “Dusty? Oh, you look pale. Hope you’re not coming down with something. Early night tonight, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dustin says. Blinks. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

-

He tells himself it’s a one-off.

Then it happens again—inside the hospital this time.

Steve opens a window in Eddie’s room before heading to the vending machine—just a crack. Barely anything.

But the cold is so intense that it takes Dustin’s breath away.

He hears the bats. Feels the pain in his foot, burning white-hot as he runs, he has to run. Eddie. Screaming. He has to get to him now or he’ll—he’ll—

Dustin shuts the window with such force that the pane rattles.

Eddie glances over from where he’s standing, right in front of the tiny mirror on the wall; he’s been wringing out his still damp hair with a clean T-shirt that Dustin highly suspects belongs to Steve, unless Eddie’s suddenly taken to owning a Hawkins Phys. Ed uniform.

“Woah, that’s the window shut, I guess,” Eddie says lightly. “You cold?”

“A bit,” Dustin says, hopes it comes out normal.

It must do, because Eddie just shrugs and goes back to the mirror, fiddling with his curls, and Dustin would usually give him so much shit for that, but his chest is tight, and although logically, he knows he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he can still feel the dampness of the ground, the dirt under his nails, Eddie’s blood…

“Did you just close that?” Steve says, jerking his head towards the window with a bemused look.

“I live to piss you off,” Dustin says.

Eddie laughs.

“Yeah, it’s your special talent,” Steve shoots back, monotone, but he’s grinning as he throws a candy bar at Dustin’s head.

3 Musketeers.

Dustin isn’t hungry, not even for nougat.

But he tears the wrapper anyway, takes a sizeable bite just for the sake of appearances.

Steve is catching Eddie’s eye in the mirror, and Eddie’s smiling, looking at Steve’s reflection; and although Dustin can hardly hear what they’re saying through the thud of his own heartbeat, their joy is obvious without words.

Because it’s over. It’s all over.

Dustin’s not gonna be the one to ruin this for them.

He won’t.

[whewchilly]

Carlos cracks me uppp man he is tew funny 🤣

[mya-jaa5]

my affection

part tew 

As you walk out the bathroom smelling good and freshly washed up, you take a good look around your surroundings, and realize you’ve never been here before… you’ve been to scaramouche house before, he told you his mother wanted to meet you and invited you to dinner with them… but last minute she called and said she couldn’t make it. you wondered if scaramouche cared she couldn’t make it, he didn’t seem phased but you still enjoyed dinner with him…

but this wasn’t his mother home… what is this place? as you walk down stairs in your socks, trying to quietly get down stairs, not wanting to alert him. 

his place was pretty beautiful, Scaramouche was rich, you knew it too. but this was almost like- bigger than a normal house…. and you don’t remember Scara telling you he had another place… maybe this is someone else’s? No then he wouldn’t have told you that you have to stay… 

you make it to the hall way and see there’s a cracked door shining light, so you go into a that room, and you found the dinner table, the two plates of food was already placed, he made lasagna with garlic bread and a mini spinach salad. it was a small square table, meaning you’d be super close to him… and currently you don’t want to be next to him.

you stare at the food and suddenly someone comes in startling you, you look up and see it’s a… butler? He was holding two wine cups filled a little above halfway… 

He looked surprised seeing you, but didn’t say anything. If anything he immediately turned his gaze down, he quickly set down the cups at their designated place, and left back to the kitchen you assume, you can also hear clinking in that room he disappeared to, you wanted to check what’s in there, slowly walking up to that door… But..

“How was your bath? I hope you feel relaxed after it, i definitely do” Scaramouche saids, stretching one of his arms. 

You stop walking towards the kitchen and turn around to face him looking irritated, you guys are kinda far from each other currently. 

“What is all this.”

You say straightforwardly.

He looks at the table, then the food, then back at you.

“It’s for you, it’s clearly a dinner? Did you forget i told you about this before i left the bathroom?”

You started getting annoyed.

“I know what you said, i meant is this to try and win me over? To get me to forgive you? It wont happen.”

Scara chuckles and walks up to you.

“You know you gotta calm down, think of this as a kind act… I did this all the time anyways, what’s so different from now?”

He places his hands on both your shoulder and squeezes it a little. 

“Loosen up y/n… Your hungry aren’t you? You’ve been asleep for a while since you passed out.” 

You were gonna say something before scaramouche suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you to the table, sitting you down to the chair next to his. You sat up a little to try and change your seat to across the table, but he grabs your arm, harshly.

“Where are you going?”

Scara said sharply, he didn’t need you trying to get away from him.

“I’m gonna… Sit across from you.”

He looks you up and down like he was judging you.

“No just sit here, your already sitting anyways. Don’t make this difficult” 

He finished his statement and let go of your arm…

What? Almost like he threatened you… 

But you decided to stay silent, he’s crazy enough to kill you parents over a guy you were only texting…. 

You picked up your fork and look at your dinner, you can’t lie it looks really good… So you dip your fork into the lasagna first. Bringing it to your mouth and biting it to the food… Very tasty… The flavors were amazing, everything was perfect, you ate the garlic bread and the salad too, you didn’t realize how hungry you were. 

“You look like your enjoying your food… I know you don’t want to speak to me but… Since your living here you have to abide to my rules”

He watches you eat your food peacefully.

ofc he has rules…

You continue to eat your food not really giving him a glance. Sorts giving him attitude.

“Look at me while i’m talking to you”

He suddenly snapped.

You wanted to sigh but, you only looked up at him so he can finish what he has to say, so you can continue eating, but his face slightly softens once you looked at him.

He clears his throat.

“y/n… let’s make a toast.”

Slightly confused you look at your wine cup, and take it into your hand bringing close to you.

“What are you toasting”

“We… are toasting to… New beginnings, to a fresh start, a new lifestyle, us, and forever…”

He raises his glass towards yours to toast with you, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t click your cup with his but, let’s not find out. 

You clink your glass cup with scaramouche, and he smiles before drinking his wine. You drink yours as well tasting nothing but bitterness, which your still not used too. Now you feel like your fully in this, like there’s no turning back, it’s almost like he made you promise to him… Without you saying anything at all, you wondered if life was better like this, not like you would ever have to worry financially… But that’s just the bright side… 

You shared few words to each other and you finished your food, you look over at scaramouche who barely ate his food.

“you barely ate”

“oh? Don’t worry about it i ate before you woke up… why you worried about me?” 

He smirks, teasing you.

“No- It was just a question nothing further than that” 

scaramouche glares at you but it goes away.

“I’m glad you ate, are you tired?”

You pounder your answers

“um no not yet… What time is it?”

Scaramouche looks at the clock

“it’s 1:23am”

It was pretty late… But you weren’t that tired, you caught up on all your sleep while passed out so..

“Wheres my phone?”

He looks at you then nonchalantly says

“i threw it away. you don’t need it, i don’t need you calling people for help, or reminiscing the past, the past is over with get over it.”

he saids sharply…

Your world shatters once you hear that, he threw your phone away? Your phone that had all your memories of your friends… Your parents… And everything to not be bored on your phone… All taken away in one night. It’s not like you can’t live without your phone, sometimes you restrict yourself from using it to spend your time doing something useful, but this just feels like being grounded or something.

“Its… Gone for good?”

Scaramouche sighs

“Yes it’s gone, don’t worry about it, we have tv, cable, streaming services, anything you want.”

You deeply sigh, you won’t let him see your tears again for that night… You wipe your mouth with a napkin and look at your empty plate.

Scara then suddenly gets up from his seat.

“Lets go now, we’ll watch a movie, then go to sleep, come.”

_____

He grabs your hand gently and pulls your from your seat, then leading you to the living room. While you followed behind, as expected the walk there was beautiful, looking at everything 

once in the living room he sat down and pulled you down on the couch as well, the lights were all off and only the that shined light was the tv. 

“Any recommendations?” 

As you were about to recommend a movie he looked away from you and started looking for a movie.

“Never mind, you don’t get to choose”

He always did that, it was a habit of his to see you get your hopes up, just for them to go down because of him… You never took it wholeheartedly tho, it was a clear joke.

You go to get a cover that’s on the side of the couch to put over your legs. while it seems like scara had a movie already planned out. You slightly sit away from him so your not directly touching him. He doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at the tv.

This was normal for you guys, you’ve watched a few movies or shows with just him, but it’s does feel a little different now… But you still had your old tendencies, you were used to this.

(He played “Under Paris”)

The movie starts playing after the intros, as it plays your just focused on it, he picked a good movie. The actors are good looking, and you were invested. You give out slight reactions during the movie which oblivious to you scara was watching, mainly you, how could he choose a great movie and not watch it? 

He took the other end of the blanket that was covering your legs and also covered his legs, moving slightly closer to you.

“This movie pretty good huh?”

You mumbled a slight “Yeah..”

Since your still mad at him.

Scara smiled a little and hugged you, really out of no where it even surprised you

You tried to pull away.

“Scara stop you already touched me in the bathroom.”

you said.

“Its simple affection y/n.”

You don’t tend to get overwhelmed easily, but you do when things don’t go your way, your a bit selfish, but wasn’t he too after kidnapping you?

“Stop scara- Your being annoying”

You were able to say this, because you’ve told him this many times while together, you didn’t think much of it, you easily brushed it off but…

Suddenly his voice got really deep and sounded angry, he pulls away and looks straight at you.

“Excuse me? What the fuck is your issue y/n? Do you have a problem with me?”

He said angrily.

“Y/n your acting as if all this between us just disappeared, you left me for like 3 weeks?? You basically disrespected me.”

“…What? i disrespected you?? I literally stayed by your side even when you made me not go out with my friends-“

Scaramouche cuts you off.

“And? What your saying you didn’t enjoy it? It’s not like i told you to drop them, I took you out on dates, i spoiled you with gifts, stop acting like you never liked it.”

You can’t lie that month where he suddenly got super possessive was a little fun, sure he always stole you from your friends, but you got to talk to him, and spend time with him. I guess him taking more time to focus on both of yours relationship did build the bond a bit stronger…

“i was just taking our relationship to the next step, but nooo i’m sooo possessive and soo controlling, you had to break up with me. I put all my focus on us…” 

he saids the last part darkly…

he stands up and walks away from you but still in the room.

“If you don’t understand, i’ll make you understand y/n, your not just gonna switch up and stop loving me.

He turns and faces you, with a scowl on his face.

“You still love me, and even you know that, so why pretend?” 

he gives you one last glare, then he walked away, not even letting you have a say in the argument… leaving you in the living room to just stare at the tv, the movie wasn’t even over… whatever…

it was almost 3 am now… Really late. So you decide to go to sleep on the couch, not really wanting to seek Scara. You grab the blanket and pull it over you, getting a couch pillow was enough comfort for you, you lay down and turn the tv off leaving you in the dark.

You always enjoyed the dark, it was soothing, the only time you’d get to yourself, since everyone would be asleep at night, you wondered if he really was gonna make you stay at his mansion forever, then if breaking up with him was the best choice… was he really just putting his focus on the relationship? he makes you sound selfish… like you used him. anyways… you reminisce your other friends, but decide not to think and go to sleep… you slowly fall asleep for the night.

____

After scaramouche left the living room, he went to his room, his room was quite big. He had everything he wanted, a huge home, butlers to do everything for him, unlimited streaming services, and he was rich, what more could he want? but even that gets draining…

He was missing something in his life currently, that spark of… Not even excitement… He couldn’t understand, he was mad at you for treating him like that, it’s like you hated him, maybe killing your parents was over the top… But were you really gonna hand yourself over to him if he asked before? That’s why he spent all his time preparing to ask you that big question, sure it was quick but you only had one more year left of school, you can start early… But you don’t understand, it’s okay.

It’s fine it doesn’t matter now, it’s only the first day, ofc anyone would be mad at the change of their situation, especially if they were forced… But his head didn’t tell him that. You’ll learn to love the spaciousnesses of the mansion, you’ll see that the only person who was waiting for you was him, and not anyone else, if he has to prove it then so be it, he’ll just have to plan ahead, be a step ahead…. you’ll learn to love him deeply, even more than before. He sat on his bed, in his thoughts already setting up a plan… Soon he looked at the time and he laid down on his bed.

“It’s only the first day… Ill make progress..”

He says silently to himself, almost like it’s a promise to himself, he falls asleep shortly afterwards….

——

this took me a lil, idk if i even like it i might let it stale a lil then edit it again lol 🤧 idk if i like this y’all omg pls lmk 😭 idk where this finna go 👻

did y’all see the bet awards omg childish gambino 😭 and he’s releasing a movie or show im so excited for it he’s like my dream, fan girling rn but i love him and everything he does 😭😭

also should i like do smut next chapter idk i feel like this going slow

[destinyc1020]

Tyla being physically lifted up the stairs rofl 🤣 😂

Now you know your dress is tew much when you're needing to be hoisted up by a group of men just to get UP the stairs rofl 🤣 😆

Here, Tyla is physically being carried by men up the stairs, and Z won't even touch a man's hand rofl 🤣 😂

That cracks me up to no end lol 🤭

Her dress is AMAAAAZING BTW 😊

Z could have done a sand dress like this for Dune lol 🤭

Very creative! I love it! 😊

[texasbama]

The way Lucy’s voice cracks as she repeatedly asks him “why are you doing this?” THE TEARS IN HER EYES. DIS IS TEW MUCH

[loganlermanstanaccount]

I truly do wonder how many juicy WIPs you have sitting in your folder. I’d pay a bajillion dollars to have a look at all of them 😼😼

lmfao I have a 20k ish mandolorian fic that scratches a very particular itch that I completely lost interest in after a terrible S3. perhaps I will revisit it? idk

other interesting fics in my drafts:

- my Halloween Miguel fics that got a bit tew horny... realised halfway through it was just nasty nasty porn with barely enough plot

- a melancholy ex friends to lovers Mig fic that I had to unpack in therapy. that's what writing to Frank Ocean does to me ig

- so. many. scrapped. RM. scenes. wish I could crack open my head and rearrange it onto a Google doc so it comes out like I want it to. idk if people realise but I am a chronic rewriter... but hopefully I will be able to reincorporate those ideas elsewhere in the fic. did someone say Christmas episode? a little bit of fake dating? reader and mig play favourite uncle and aunt to Mayday?? I am capable of writing, pinky promise 😢

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Don't be Crabby

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, OCs, yandere male, yandere female, hostage situation, threats, mentions death, mentions blood, describes seafood, describes eating sound, slight fluff (?), no comfort, a bit crack, reader insert, gender neutral reader, reader doesn’t have allergies in this story, includes a picture of seafood platter (you’ll see why~)

A/n: So I’m just popping in real quick to update this story for my dear readers. I’ve had to go days racking my head about how I was going to go about the dynamic between you and a certain someone who you’ll meet right when you wake after getting kidnapped. Trying out some worldbuilding  and dropping lore here and there.

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2), Part 3 (2/2), Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 (you’re here!), Part 7 (not yet!)

In Agobury, the three prominent clans to watch out for goes as follows:

Those who are born to the Aurem-Diavolus Family, mostly known as the May Devils, live a ridiculously bountiful life between blood and lust, supposedly reigning over half of the city.

“'Ey, Sis! That Ermine kid!”

“What the— How did he get out? Don't let him escape!”

Those who are born into the Panthera Family, also known as the Blacklists, are born inheriting generations of luxury and a penchant for near-deaths.

“Honey? Eris? Do calm— Oh, heavens!”

Oi, Eris! Calm down! You don't have to— Aw, shoot!”

And finally, those who are born to the Ermine Family… well…

“Please, I have a—”

Rumors have it that they lack a heart.

Crunch.

Whether or not that’s true, witnesses on their last breaths have claimed that the Ermine Family have certainly never felt the fear of death.

Eris drags the residue from the bottom of his blood-stained shoes across a clean part of the concrete floor. His eyes are feral, blown out to the point one could barely see the original green hue of his irises.

Click. Click click click click click.

Tiny red dots zoom in from outside towards the center of Eris’s head and heart from behind. A squad of armored soldiers bear their firearms, ready to pull the trigger at command. “Stand down, Ermine! Or we’ll be forced to engage.”

Eris’s body is still, not even a twitch to be seen. Instead, his head slowly pivots on his neck as smoothly as a doll until his eyes meet the opaque visors of the tensed squad.

For a moment, everything stills. Silence to the point the only sounds that can be heard are the beating of nervous hearts and shudders of shaky breaths. His mouth slowly spreads into an unnervingly wide grin.

And then, he moves.

-----🔔-----

Pity to those who have the misfortune of being born or ending up in Agobury somehow, for they have been doomed to die tragically young… 

And yet, interestingly there are people who survive long enough to produce the next generation of unlucky souls to replace the city’s ever diminishing numbers— before they die due to some accident or “accident”, of course. The forsaken, the “les misérables”, the normies, etc. People who could not escape Agobury, even if they had the means to.

Unless they are willing to die.

Crack. Shlurp. Munch munch. Gulp.

But some aren’t even lucky enough for that.

“Like you!” the young man sitting across from you chirps, cracking open another king crab leg with just his fingers and slurping the juicy white and red meat into his mouth. “Sho tew me— Gulp— how did someone like you manage to capture the heart of one of the most dangerous men in our city, hm~?” he asks, pointing the empty shell towards you.

You narrow your eyes in response.

Well, shoot. As if you would know anything about that!?

All you’ve been doing all of your life has been minding your own damn business. Did you ever ask for your puppy-like ex, Lyn, to fall in love with you to the point of suffocation? No. Did you ever ask for that stupid Eris to weasel his way into your life? No. Did you ever ask for that damn Ollie to break into your home and steal your family portrait? No. Did you ever ask to be kidnapped, knocked out, woken up in some fancy restaurant in who knows where dressed up in some fancy attire worth more than your monthly rent, and sat across some deranged criminal who suspiciously reminds you of that stupid Eris, who’s currently enjoying a fresh plate of Alaskan king crabs like this is some normal date? HELL NO.

“Who are you, where are we, and what do you want from me?” you demand with your hands on the table, your fingers wrapping around the fabric of the white table cloth.

The stranger pops a piece of tuna sashimi into his mouth. “Tut tut tut, so many questions~ Why don't you just enjoy our date, hm?”

You take in your surroundings. A fancy restaurant indeed, with crystal chandeliers all over the ceilings, blacked out windows framed with pulled-back thick cream drapes, and what you assume to be mahogany wooden floors. Classical music plays in the background by professionals with shiny, wooden instruments. Servers are waiting against the wall, occasionally glancing your way since the only diners here seem to be you and this weirdo. You look down at your own dish, a matching plate of seafood ranging from crabs to mollusks to fishes that could never grace the plate of your local diner, sparkling like gems from the ocean.

Crack. Crack crack crack.

You look up from your plate towards the noise. You find him holding a decorative rock to crack open an ridiculously large clam— why is he using a rock instead of the clam knife?

He looks up and says, “Jeez. C’mon, just eat. Eat and then we’ll talk.”

“.....”

“... It’s not poisoned, ya know? I need you alive.”

So he says… Well, if that’s the case for whatever reason, then why not? If you want to escape, you’ll need the energy. And if you end up dying anyway, then at least you’ll die eating delicious, expensive food. You nod and begin devouring your plate.

Crunch. Shlurp. Gulp.

The crab legs are immaculately succulent, tender, and slightly sweet with a buttery flavor. The clams taste savory with a clean, earthy undertone that evokes the essence of the sea. The shrimps offer firm yet tender bites, with a delicate hint of natural sweetness from the sea, balanced by a clean, slightly briny undertone. The oysters—

“Wow. Are you an idiot?”

You manage to choke down the oyster meat that was just halfway down your throat before the insult could shock you entirely. You cough several times. “What?”

“Are you an idiot?” he repeats, throwing you an arrogant smirk as he finishes a handful of clams. “You don’t even know who I am— Crunch—, and whether or not— Shlurp— I’m telling the truth about poisoning your food— Gulp— ya know?”

You wipe your mouth with the thick napkin on your lap. “... You would poison a perfectly good plate of super expensive seafood? Why?”

He purses his lips. “... Good point… B-B-BUT! What if I offered you this food in exchange for servitude, huh? You’ll be indebted to me for life, ya know! Didn’t you think about that?”

You think about it. Just for a moment. Then you realize that nothing would change, which makes you groan because thinking about something like that is a waste of time when your plate is still full of seafood to feed your stomach. How long have you been asleep anyway? It feels like it's been days since you've eaten.

You shrug and then continue feasting on your plate.

The stranger stares at you from across the table, flabbergasted at your nonchalance. He had ordered his men to kidnap you in broad daylight in front of your friends right in front of your workplace, knowing full well that Eris is locked up by the May Devils for the crimes he’s committed against them. Surely, someone of your mediocre lineage should be more… more aware of their predicament or something? Afraid, vulnerable, too scared to eat maybe? Anything! Unless you must be an idiot. Eris wouldn’t fall for some naive dummy like you, would he?

… Would he?

“... Hey…" he tries to get your attention.

Crunch. Shlurp. Gulp.

He attempts to get your attention again. “H-hey… !”

Your throat suddenly needs a cleanser. Luckily, there’s a glass of water you can throw back before you continue.

Crunch. Shlurp. Gulp.

His will falters. “... H-hey?”

You munch on the last morsel before it gets sent down to your overly-stuffed stomach. You wipe your mouth and throw the napkin onto the table, making determined eye contact with the guy. “Done. Now talk.”

He looks at you, mouth slightly agape. “... I have never met an idiot like you,” he starts off.

“Okay, cool,” you answer sarcastically. “So who are you, where are we, and what do you want from me?”

The guy snaps out of his shock, slams his palms on the table and stands up, looking down at you with a confident smirk. “Good question. My name is Eren and I—”

“You related to Eris, by any chance?” you cut him off, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Don’t cut me off!” he shrieks, his face red. He calms down immediately and clears his throat, replacing his controlled smirk. “To answer your question, yes. Yes, I am. I am Eren Ermine, younger brother to the infamous Eris Ermine—”

Eren. Ren.

Your expressionless face reveals nothing but internally, a lightbulb goes off in your head and fills you with joy for connecting the dots. Then as fast as it had lit up, it fizzles and flickers off in disappointment as you realize yet another psycho has come after you because of your job. Or because of Eris. Whichever one. Great.

And since when did Eris have a relative? He never once mentioned this guy or anyone else— well, then again he might’ve mentioned something about being the eldest son which does imply at least one younger sibling… They do look alike the more you look at him. Like brothers, basically, but Eris did say he was alone so could you blame—

“Hey hey hey! Pay attention!” Eren hisses at you, snapping his fingers over the table. “Jesus Christ! How can you possibly be calm when you’re clearly in a hostage situation!?”

Pft. It’s not the first time. “Oh sorry,” you apologize, rolling your eyes. “Can’t help it. So where are we and what do you want with me?”

“Wha- I- Ughhhh.” He groans into his hands. He sharply inhales with his eyes closed and exhales. “(Y/n), if you don’t do as I say, I will kill you. Got it?”

“Okay,” you answer. “So?”

“.....”

You raise your eyebrows and tilt your head, waiting for answers to your questions for the second time. You add a twirl of your hand as a visual gesture.

He blinks. “Are you an idiot?”

“That’s the third time you asked. Do you want me to be an idiot?”

“... Are you messing with me right now?”

You shrug again. “Not really? Anyway, you said you needed me alive, right? Why?”

“I can easily change my mind!”

“Okay. So where are we and what do you want with me?”

“.....” He grumbles to himself.

“... Well?” you prompt him.

“Humans are usually afraid in these situations… he mutters underneath his breath before his eyes go wide. “Are you… not a human?” he asks you.

“.....” Is he serious? you wonder.

“.....” He continues to stare. He seems serious.

“Last time I checked, I came out from a human,” you put it bluntly.

“.....” He squints his eyes and scrutinizes you.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“No, sorry,” he covers his face and starts mumbling to himself, “That was a stupid question. I already have your birth certificate and—”

You can’t decide which brother is crazier, the red-headed Eris who's obsessed with you for some reason or his supposed younger brother Eren who seems obsessed with you (or his brother) enough to kidnap and hold you hostage… and get ahold of your birth certificate for some reason. What exactly did you do to—

No. No wait. All of this started the day you let Eris stay that night. … Shoot! Why did you let him stay? Oh dear lord, it’s like that one pet video you watched where the owner got one, and then got another one so the first one won’t get lonely, and then next thing you know, you got a third one, and then a fourth, and then a fifth one because—

“HEY!”

“What?” you drawl.

“You…” He points at you with an accusing finger. “Ugh, forget it. Now that I have your attention, what exactly did you do to Eris to make him fall head over heels in love with you? That.. Bloodthirsty Weasel, Eris. Incarnate of Chaos, Eris. My older brother Eris. What did you do to him!?”

“Why do people keep asking me that??” You throw your hands up in the air. “I didn’t do anything. You should ask him yourself if you’re so curious.”

A moment of silence.

He breaks eye contact. “I... I can’t.”

You place your hands back on the table and blink a few times, leaning forward in confusion. “Huh? You can’t? Why not?”

Eren looks away, sheepishly. He taps the tips of his fingers together. “He… He won’t talk to me anymore,” he pouts.

… If you weren’t sitting here under certain circumstances, you might’ve found Eren’s shy demeanor a bit cute. But at this point, it just creeps you out how fast he goes from loud to controlled to being bashful.

“That… sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” you state, sitting back in your seat. “And nothing to do with me. Can I go home now?

He shoots you a glare before his face softens as he suddenly walks around the table and places his hands upon your shoulders. You attempt to grab them with your hands but find your shoulders and arms stiff underneath his strength, reminding you of Eris’s own cuddling strength. “But you, (Y/n)… he hangs around you a lot. So, I’m proposing a deal!”

“Uh… ” 

“Or I’ll kill you,” he adds, a deranged smile on his face.

“O… kay. What’s the deal?”

“If I know anything about my brother— and I know my brother—”

“Oh okay, Mr. ‘why-did-he-fall-for-you’ Ermine,” you wish you could quip. But you keep quiet and let him continue.

“—he’s already on his way here. B-B-But!” He holds up a teasing finger. “He’ll have to go through me to get to you. Sooo I need you to be hidden away until I k- I mean, he finds you. Okay?”

… Well, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter, do you?

“He’s pretty strong,” you warn.

“Yeah? I know. I'm counting on that actually,” he says with a glint in his eye. “I'd like to see what our parents saw in him and finally get to… Hm~” He then releases you and takes a few steps back. “Guards! Take (Y/n) to the cargo hold. Make sure they can’t move, see, or speak. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Before you can make a move or a peep, the waiters swiftly have your hands bound behind you with thick rope, eyes blindfolded and mouth bound, and a bag placed over your head to finish off before they carry you off like a writhing sack of potatoes down several hallways and down several flights of stairs until they reach the destination and dump you onto the metal floor. They then bind your rope against some pole or column and then leave you alone with only the sounds of hidden cargo tapping the inside of their boxes with every rise and fall of… the ocean!?

-----🔔-----

[Some time earlier…]

Drip… drip… drip…

“Mother, I like living. Love it to death, in fact.”

“I didn’t raise you to sass me, kit!” Ollie’s mother hisses. “ … But I see your point.”

“Great.”

“Still,” she adds, “they do say all is fair in love and war.”

Ollie’s father nods.

One of Ollie’s eyes twitches. “First of all, again, I am not in love. And second of all, do you hear yourself, Mother? Do you want the entire family to turn on Eris, of all people. In Agobury?

Ollie's jaw drops. ““Most certainly not! But I want you to be happy, Ollie. It’s a grand thing to be in love, after all~” she says, snuggling up with Ollie’s father. He nuzzles the top of her head with his cheek in reciprocation.

Ollie gestures to the scene behind them.  “How can you still say that when Eris did this just to escape?”

The light-colored hallways are stained with splatters of crimson behind the corpses. Guts and bits of flesh littered the floors in pools of red. Broken equipment colored black lay scattered about as if a deranged artist had accidentally made a stroke of genius to give the viewer a place to rest their eyes in the painting called “The Red Massacre”.

Ollie’s mother chuckles. “Dear kit, if it weren’t for the treaty, we couldn’t just be in charge of the banks. If you so wished, dear kit, you should know that our family would have your back. Even if it is against Eris.”

Tap… tap… tap…

“... I had heard… things about him… but I had never expected…” a female voice trails off.

The Panthera family turn towards Lyn, who stands behind them with wide eyes. “Apologies for the lives of your men on Eris’s behalf, Lyn,” says Ollie. “When it comes to his lover, Eris can get a bit—”

“No, no, no. They were prepared to give their lives for the famiglia's security… “ Lyn says as her eyes catch something shiny within the puddles of blood. She talks as she walks over to it.

She sticks her fingers into the pool and pulls out a band.

A ring.

A golden ring.

On the inside of the golden ring, engraved in Latin are the words, “Love you forever and always”...

“Why would…” Lyn trails off as a lightbulb lights up so brilliantly in her mind that it proceeds to shatter into a million pieces.

Oh.

OH.

OH.

A gentle smile graces her lips as she rubs the blood off the ring on the black vicuna of her suit before pocketing it safely and turning towards Ollie.

“I think I can understand Eris's… reaction now. It seems that we need to find and punish whoever took Eris’s lover, don’t we? It would be a shame if all of these men gave up their lives for nothing,” she spits the last word.

A shiver runs up Ollie’s spine upon the sight of Lyn. Her normally empty brown irises are replaced with bloody halos, illuminated by the white of her scleras. Unnerving, paired with her angelic smile.

There used to be a saying in Agobury that everytime a May Devil smiled, the world would fall to hell.

An exaggeration, a legend, a myth, perhaps a tall tale told to children nowadays to never cross a member of the May Devils lest they wish to end up found eaten by stray dogs in some dark alleyway, but the sight of Lyn now reminds Ollie of the fated day he had saved her on a whim. 

The May Devils have existed longer than any other family in this godforsaken city for a reason… and to think they prefer to align themselves in the public to family-friendly gentle dog breeds like golden retrievers or maremma sheepdogs.

Hah… there couldn’t possibly be a god with all of these dogs running about…

And so, Agobury’s top dog and cat have decided to join forces to chase after the weasel who is chasing after his younger brother who has spared nothing to keep you safely tucked away in a storage room.

Until next time…

-----🔔-----

[Current]

“HEPH! HEPH! HEPH!”

You attempt to call for help, but no one answers. You have been abandoned. There is no one who will save you here.

…..

Stupid Eris. 

…..

Stupid Ollie.

…..

Stupid… Lyn…

You bang the back of your head against the pole. As if you can think about your lunatic ex who traumatized you to the point of actually rejecting money at this time!? You can’t even begin to think about how bad being in that situation was compared to now…

… Can you?

In the silent darkness, the pounding in your head starts to get louder and louder. And then you feel your heart start to beat against your eardrums faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster—

You don’t know how big this place is, but underneath the bag it seems small. Too small. Too small and you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe properly, which means you can’t think properly. It’s suffocating. It’s suffocating here, in this small space. A small space in a ship that is in the middle of who knows where, which means  you can’t escape. You will have to wait for someone to get you out, but nobody knows you’re here, and if nobody knows you’re here, you’re trapped. Trapped all alone. All alone just like when you were trapped in that place with your ex. Except you had your ex that time, but this time you have no one. No one no one no one no one no one just like before—

“Shhhhh…” You feel a hand on top of your covered head. A sing-songy voice clears away all of your messy thoughts and slows down your heartbeat enough for you to take full, deep breaths. “Fear not, dear (Y/n). You… are going to be okay.”

[devondespresso]

OK POLL IS ONLY GONNA LAST LIKE AN HOUR TOPS IM NOT PATIENT ENOUGH FOR A WHOLE DAY

i woke up today deciding i need to widdle down my wips because the extra options are making it harder to decide what to work on and get wips posted. i have 5? wips i think. 1 long fic, 1 chaptered, and 3 oneshots.

having said that...

some additional Pews information, in case that aids the decision.

Pews' is a perry-the-platypus style pet that doubles as Tews (they're identical, Tews is his own cat they just share the place of Tews im the Henderson household) and is basically responsible for plot-armor-y coincidences that let the plot happen. I have the most of the fic outlined with only one scene not figured out, nothing written obviously i gotta ask the silly guys in my phone first dykdyjdyj

i really liked it, itd be one of those "crack taken seriously" fics, i just don't know how much time i actually want to pour into this with how many other things I've got that i wanna finish

[dlaprobably]

Servantember, Day 8: Captain James Misson (Pretender)

A salty sea dog to start the second week's worth of Servantember drawings, Captain James Misson! The legendary captain of the Victoire, Misson is best known as the founder of the fabled pirate utopia of Libertatia (or Libertalia), a democratic society that stood up for its people's freedoms and against authoritarian rule, distributing loot evenly amongst its population. Despite its sturdy fortifications and sprawling reach, its location has proven elusive, and while it lasted 25 years, far longer than most pirate outposts of its kind, there are few contemporaneous accounts of its existence. There are few records of Misson himself, for that matter, with many regarding him and Libertatia as nothing more than a story. And yet, here he stands, man, myth, and legend, as a Pretender Rider class Servant!

Fell down something of a research rabbit hole with this one it took me some time to climb out of, but it's my longest and most detailed profile yet, so I hope you enjoy it if you're reading this!

Lore Notes:

-On his initial summoning, Misson will appear a younger, more swashbuckling sort of man, the years having yet to take their toll on him, rather than the shabby-coated figure depicted above, who will typically only appear to Masters with whom a mutual trust has been established. He maintains the same unquenchable thirst for adventure and belief in his dream regardless of his age, and takes great delight in storytelling, relating tales of his own exploits and those of fellow rogues with equal pleasure.

-His ship, the Victoire, sails swiftly and silently, catching foes unaware and leaving no trace, an ephemeral vessel much like Misson's own unwritten voyages. It behaves much like a ghost ship, but appears the very picture of a dignified, undamaged warship when sighted. Its crew is invisible to enemy eyes while aboard, and consists of a motley assortment of lesser-known seafarers and long-forgotten names fearsome in their own time, many of them acquaintances of Misson himself in life. A skilled naval tactician well respected by his sailors, the good captain's Voyager of the Storm skill is at an A+ rank.

-Is as competent a duelist as he is at the helm, and a crack shot with pistols as well, with near supernaturally quick reflexes. He was known as a captain and a leader rather than a combatant, and loathed needless bloodshed, but claims to have taken a few pages out of the books of his piratical peers for this summoning. He'd still rather avoid direct confrontation, but needs must when the devil drives.

-Thomas Tew, Misson's contemporary and co-founder of Libertatia, is absent from the crew of pirates captaining the Victoire, having his own distinct Spirit Origin as the more well known pirate out of the two of them. Much as he would appreciate the help, Misson doesn't begrudge his absence, certain he has his own business to take care of.

-Misson's Noble Phantasm is Libertatia, a Reality Marble bringing forth the legendary settlement and its surrounding seas, allowing captain and Master alike to mount a strong defense while the Victoire remains on the offense. Raised forts forming an octagonal shape in the harbor, each armed with forty cannons, with the living spaces and the town proper below. Apart from its combat functionality, the town is as abuzz with activity as it was in its heyday. There's no shortage of resources to make withstanding a prolonged siege possible, but the firepower on hand and on loan should make short work of foes inexperienced at sea. Stray cannon fire from the fog enclosing the Reality Marble will hammer down on opponents, the hopes and dreams of captains throughout the ages who aspired to reach the place but never could, channeled into fighting on the captain's behalf. As well positioned and defended as the place is, it did eventually fall, and the fortifications do have their limits, and even in its empowered form as a Noble Phantasm. Dream or reality, Libertatia is as liable to fall as any fortress.

-In reality, there is no Captain James Misson. Attempts to find the location of Libertatia or other contemporary accounts of him have come up empty, and the most detailed account of him and his elusive Libertatia is a likely fictitious chapter in A General History of the Pyrates. A biographical tome published in 1724 about many of the Golden Age's most famous buccaneers, names such as Blackbeard, William Kidd, and Calico Jack Rackham among them, A General History helped solidify the modern idea of the era's pirates and their stories, and was a major inspiration for fictitious tales of piracy for over a century afterward, Treasure Island and Peter Pan being two notable examples. The Servant appearing in Misson's place is Captain Charles Johnson, A General History's mysterious author.

-Captain Charles Johnson is himself about as much of a ghost as Misson, with no records existing of a captain by his name, which is considered by most historians to be a pseudonym. Some theorize he was a genuine pirate or captain, others believe he was simply a particularly knowledgeable writer. A playwright by the name of Charles Johnson staged a play titled The Successful Pyrate about the career of Henry Every, but he seems to be entirely unrelated to the captain. Daniel Defoe, author of Robinson Crusoe and hundreds of other works, is by far the most popular suspect, but a questionable one. Yet another candidate is printer Nathaniel Mist, who published some of Defoe's works, with the latter spying on the former on behalf of the British government. Johnson himself is keeping mum on who he is, and it hardly matters, given he's been summoned as Misson and Johnson rather than whoever he might really be.

-As a Servant, Johnson amounts to little more than the ideal of a pirate in the public consciousness, his appearance reflecting that. For what it's worth, he does seem to believe in the ideas he espouses, and thoroughly sympathizes with his subjects, which is why he saw fit to immortalize them in the written word. He might exaggerate with some, or dream up entirely fictional ones for the stories he couldn't justify ascribing to any existing ones, but every story gets somewhat out of hand after being passed on a few times, the wilder ones tending to be the more memorable ones.

-His Noble Phantasm as Johnson, A General History of the Pyrates, allows him to invoke the skills and feats of the figures he wrote about, granting him the skills in direct combat that Misson was never attested to have but others were credited with, for one. Libertatia is an extension of this Noble Phantasm, but is treated as a separate one tied to the Misson aspect of this Spirit Origin, and can be used in conjunction with A General History's more... general effects. If a "true" Captain James Misson were ever summoned as a Servant, he would have Libertatia as his Noble Phantasm, but the odds of that are exceedingly low given the lack of evidence for him. Still, Johnson had to get the idea from somewhere, and he'd be the first to say not to dismiss the possibility. At full power, A General History can summon a mighty fleet of the famous pirates themselves and their ships, their chronicler calling upon their legends to do battle and make their names once more. Maintaining both A General History and Libertatia at their maximum potential simultaneously would expend a frankly ludicrous amount of magical energy, but the resulting tale of adventure that would come out of it would more than make up for it.

-All in all, Johnson changes little as a Servant with the revelation of his true name, remaining the same jolly salt as when he's known as Misson, just more honest about the nature of his existence. A figment kept alive by the figments he kept alive in a sort of equivalent exchange, as long as there's people to keep reading and telling the stories, he's satisfied with his accomplishments.

-Other pirate Servants seem to be aware of both Misson and Johnson as separate individuals but perceive him as either of them at different times, which suits him fine. He's never been summoned alongside Thomas Tew, but that would doubtless make matters even more confusing.

Design Notes:

Unsurprisingly, I was big into pirates as a kid and it never went away, so it was a matter of time before I wrote up a pirate fanservant. I've been incredibly disappointed with Fate's canon handling of pirate Servants thus far for the most part (Blackbeard's writing has been improving in recent years but I maintain that the foundation for FGO's version is so broken there's only so much fixing they can try to do, the less said about Bonny and Read and how badly they botched them the better, Bart has one of my favorite designs in the game but every time he opens his mouth I want to cry, Drake is the only one that's actually cool even though she has very little to do with her historical counterpart from what I've seen), and I wanted to try my hand at doing a proper one not bogged down in a single bad joke for a personality.

I hadn't actually read any of A General History of the Pyrates before working on him, but it had been on my reading list for a long time and I had been aware of Johnson as a figure. The idea of him as a Servant first came to me when I was trying to think of legendary or fictional pirates that could qualify as Servants in contrast to the thus far historical ones, and while Johnson definitely existed in some capacity as the author of the book, it interested me how little we know about the guy for how influential his book was. As I looked more into the book, I looked into Misson, and while I initially had Johnson in mind as a Caster, the ambiguity of his identity and of Misson as his fabrication felt perfect for the Pretender class. The rest as they say, was history. Design-wise he's an amalgamation of Captain Hook, Long John Silver, and various other fictional pirates I had on the mind at the time, including this post, fitting enough for how he takes form, with the patchwork on his coat being extremely subtle symbolism for the fact that he hasn't taken the time out to buy a new one (and that he's a patchwork himself, incidentally). I imagine he does have a proper walking cane, but he uses the sword sometimes when he wants to seem dramatic or look cool. With that, I'll leave you to your own adventures, and wish you safe travels and good days over the horizon!

[8-rae-rae-8]

Hear me out.

Cyberpunk 2077 x The Evil Within

Cracks knuckles

We know that we get Silverhand's engram in V's brain, who's to say there couldn't be a chip that seemed to mutilate everything around your character? Or even put you in the TEW world(s) You don't die, you can't, but every moment is agony