#the Twins are his tormentors

[red-room-studi0]

I'll give u guys uhhhh $5 if u can guess who he was inspired from hehe (lies)

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇʙᴏʀɴ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Celebrating Her.

Short summary: after spoiling you the entire day, Tom makes sure your special day ends in a blast.

Warnings: 18+ only! nipple play, fingering, slight degradation, choking, rough sex, unprotected p in v, ooc Tom but it’s okay because it’s my birthday.

A/N: leaving my teenage years behind. Today’s been super stressy, but I am happy to finally have time to post my birthday fic!!! Also happy birthday to my birthday twin, Severus Snape 🫶🏻

wordcount: 2,2k

celebrating him.

London. He has taken you to London. To your favourite restaurant to be exact, one that you have not visited ever since you moved to the wizarding world. Tom wasn’t the person to go to the muggle world, not if he didn’t have to at that. Too many bad memories have been made there, especially back in his orphanage days. So, for obvious reasons, you were surprised when he told you where you were headed to.

The clock strikes 9pm when he waves a waiter over and takes the courtesy to pay. Not that he would let you pay anyway, especially on your birthday, but you are still grateful. You feel people’s gaze on you as you both get up, your burgundy, crystal plated dress easily catching people’s attention as you stand out from the crowd on this seemingly so ordinary day. Ordinary for them, anyway.

Your eyes meet Tom’s, who is matching your attire with a black suit. The corner of his lips tugs up just the slightest bit at the attention you are receiving, and his arm wraps possessively around your waist. “Ready to leave?” he asks smoothly, and you nod, following him towards the exit.

However, he doesn’t take you back home like you had expected. No, instead, you are strolling through the city, finding your way through the crowd of people waiting to get home after another long Thursday. There are entire queues waiting for taxis, and suddenly you don’t miss your former, “normal” life in the slightest. London’s always been loud and busy, so when you received your letter for Hogwarts and got to know the most magical, hidden place in the Highlands of Scotland—you wish you could have lived there since your birth.

Being a muggle born isn’t easy. It’s come with its challenges, especially back in your first year at Hogwarts. It took time for you to find friends, to adjust to the change. And God, you missed your parents. Then, being exposed to all the hatred and bullying muggle borns had to endure definitely didn’t make it any better. Especially if you end up falling for your tormentor.

Being in love with Tom Riddle as a muggle born isn’t easy. But you two had somehow—after years of bickering and rivalry—made it work. It wasn’t until your seventh year that you got closer and essentially ended up being a couple. And no, you couldn’t believe it either. Not in your wildest dreams would you have thought the day would come that your strongest feeling for Tom would be love.

It’s always been hate, after all.

It was subtle at first, from stealing glances in classes to blatantly staring at each other, to—well. Him cornering you when you exited the girl's lavatory, whispering a soft “What are you doing to me?” as he leaned in. And before you could react, his lips were on yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss, pouring his feelings into it like he had to prove they really existed—firstly to you, but himself as well. Even when, in the end, of course you did love him too.

Tom’s love often is rough, distant. But you make it work, and when he does soften up—it’s like a plant sipping its first drop of water after an agonizingly long drought. You relish in it, your dynamics making you a perfect match for each other. And just like that, the boy you once hated with every cell in your body turned into your lover you wouldn’t even think about letting go.

That’s how you ended up spending your 20th birthday in London. Away from the wizarding world for once, back in your home city. You almost couldn’t believe when he apparated you both to the restaurant your parents used to take you to for birthdays. Tom Riddle, organizing a birthday dinner in the muggle world. A subtle smile brightens up your face at the thought. He leads you through the crowd, arms still around your waist. It’s not until he stops that you realize where you are headed.

One of the finest hotels in all of London, if you may. And he doesn’t just stop in front of it, no, you enter. Tom doesn’t respond when you ask him what you are doing here, instead withdraws a card from his pocket and leads you up the marble stairs. The setting feels special, too special to be true. It’s silent besides the clicking of your heels as you ascend the stairs, a chandelier dimly illuminating the hallway. There is no one around, no receptionist, no other guests. It seems as though you two are there alone, the property reserved for solely you two.

It’s not long until you arrive at door 464. As soon as he opens it, a smell of roses and lit candles floods your senses. The room, kept in an elegant vintage style, is illuminated by candles, the high ceilings decorated with baroque carvings. With you trying to take in the magic of the room, you don’t realize Tom stepping further into the room. Only when you hear muffled voices, followed by soft strains of classical music, your eyes flicker to where he is standing—adjusting a modern radio.

“Tom Riddle using a muggle device? This might be my best birthday present yet.” you snicker, walking towards the brunette. It’s then when he turns around, his deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“First and last time.” he answers, his voice low as his hands settle on your waist. Leaning in, he places a soft kiss on your lips. Without another word, Tom’s left hand intertwines with your right, the subtle notes of a violin and a piano resonating through the room as he guides you into a slow dance.

You can’t help but wonder how he’d learned to do that. At the two yule balls you experienced, he had never asked anyone for a dance. As you sway to the gentle tones, a memory plays in your head, taking you back four years to your 5th year at Hogwarts.

Being asked for a dance by one of the most popular boys in Gryffindor had its perks—you had been the center of attention the entire evening. Many people asked you for a dance, complimenting your looks as they took in your sapphire blue dress, adorned with tiny crystals.

In a brief moment of solitude, your eyes swayed around the hall, just for you to lock eyes with Tom. Merely a split second later, he averted his gaze, though the intensity of his eyes on yours lingered—and for the rest of the night, no one else asked you to dance again.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks you, and you are forced out of your thoughts, returning to the present. The dim candlelight casts a shadow on his sharp features, and you once again get lost in his eyes.

“Was it you? Back then, at the ball?” you murmur, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the question, and it’s almost as if you could see the memory replaying in his eyes.

“Nobody touches what is mine, darling.” Tom replies, and there is this familiar possessiveness in his voice, the one that you have grown to love. Another kiss later and he is tugging at your zipper as he leans in, his hot breath on the tender skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me take care of you now, just like you deserve.”

You don’t complain as he is leading you towards the bed, dress long discarded on the floor. Tom’s hand wanders, slipping under the waistband of your lace underwear as he settles down beside you. Finding your swollen bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb rubs tight circles on it, having you take a sharp inhale at the sensation.

His other hand frees your breasts, pushing the dainty material of your bra to the side. His eyes wander up and down your almost entirely exposed form, muttering praises under his breath before he lowers his head to trail gentle kisses from your collarbone to your breast, gently wrapping his lips around the hardened peak.

“Oh— oh Merlin, Tom—“

His tongue flicks over the sensitive skin, drawing small whimpers and moans from you as your fingers thread through his silky brunette hair. You tug on it slightly, massaging his scalp as he continues his ministrations, nibbling and kissing your skin.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, firmly clenching around the fabric as two of his digits slip inside of your tight heat. “So wet for me,” he groans lowly, moving at an agonizingly slow pace as the heel of his hand rubs on your clit with every thrust of his hand. The sensations he is providing you with, fingertips massaging the one spot inside of you that has you grow dizzy with pleasure, the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, and you are just there on the edge when—

“No, no please! I want to— want you to—“ you gasp, hand closing around his wrist, attempting to still his movements. His dark eyes lock with yours then, and he stops. “Use your words, sweetheart. What is it that you want?”

“Want you inside of me, please.” you murmur, and his lips curl into a knowing smirk at your words, shaking his head just slightly. He withdraws his fingers then, a small whimper falling over your lips at the loss. It doesn’t take long until he has undressed himself, parting your thighs before he positions himself between them, hovering over you.

“I really wanted to be nice to you today, darling.” he remarks, though his tip nudging at your entrance has all sane thoughts leave your mind at an instant.

“Merlin— you know I don’t want you to be. Please don’t be nice.”

Tom’s hand snakes around your throat at your response, mumbling something inaudible under his breath as he presses down on the sides of your throat, slowly splitting you apart on his hard length as you both groan. “This better? Want to be fucked like a whore even on your birthday?”

All you manage is a nod before he buries himself inside of you completely, not letting you adjust before he sets a harsh rhythm, his eyes darting down to his cock disappearing in your heat. Tom’s lips part slightly at the sight, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

The classical music playing in the background is a stark contrast to how he is fucking you, hips snapping into yours from an angle that has you see stars, your nails digging into his toned shoulders, sure to leave behind crescent marks.

“So— good!” you cry out, hands holding onto his biceps as he thrusts into you from above, the sound of your combined moans echoing around the hotel room. It’s not long until your pleasure is building again, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his tip brushes against your sensitive cervix.

“Eyes on me, darling. Let me see how good I am making you feel. Let me see you come,” he demands, hand squeezing down tighter on your throat. You do as he says, eyes fluttering open just for you to meet his stern expression, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his brunette curls stick to his damp forehead. His gaze burns into yours, the limited blood flow making you feel just slightly lightheaded, intensifying the feeling of his length slipping in and out of your sensitive walls.

You’re right at the edge, your cunt greedily clenching down on his thick cock. Tom seems to notice, his free hand reaching between you two, softly swiping over your needy clit with the pad of his thumb. “Tom— please!” you cry out, and he lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. “Go on. Come for me,” he groans, and that is all you need to finally tumble over the edge, the intense feeling in your lower stomach leaving you a trembling and whimpering mess beneath him. Tom follows soon after, emptying himself deep inside of your warm, welcoming walls with a low grunt.

He collapses on top of you to catch his breath, though soon after pulling out of you, getting up to fetch a warm, damp towel to clean you up. It’s not long until he scoops you up in his arms, entering the bathroom where an already filled bathtub awaits you, lowering your spent body into the pleasantly warm water. He soon gets in as well, massaging circles into your shoulders as your head rests on his chest. It’s mostly quiet between you two, savouring the moment of intimacy you only rarely get to experience with him.

Before you drift off to sleep, he places a tender kiss on your head.

“Happy Birthday, love.”

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

With the not as he seems au how would the gideon plotline work in regards to Bill's involvement? Also I'm loving your au it's so interesting!

I considered a few options for this, but settled on one in particular. I haven’t worked out everything yet, so this will just be the stuff I have worked out. Being as Gideon’s takeover of the shack and all is how Stan got Journal 2 in canon, and was a major catalyst for the portal, I wanted the Gideon plot to retain that major catalyst factor.

I don’t have too many details yet, but the general gist is that Bill, by proxy, also has a rivalry with Gideon. Although, the main rivalry is still with Stan, and Gideon views ‘Stanford’ as more of the Pines family’s annoying, attack dog — the threat he has to eliminate before he can commit to any scheme.

The reason for this is Bill is a far more active tormentor of Gideon. Gideon bit first and so he bites back. That type of dynamic.

Most stuff at the beginning is the same besides that, although I do have some extra plot lines and also interactions I probably wanna consider.

But Dreamscaperers is where stuff becomes strange. Again, I don’t have all the details right now, but I do have the main catalyst for the plot, which is that Gideon’s summon of Bill actually works. For the first time in thirty years, Bill is in his own body (in a sense), but from Stan and Dipper’s POV, they just watched Ford’s body pass out suddenly without cause.

The other important beats here:

- Bill does not take the deal with Gideon. He claims he already has a deal with Stan that he can’t break, and while that technically isn’t a lie, there’s an array of reasons as to why he doesn’t take it.

- Bill does not stay freed, and once his summoning is over, he wakes up back in Ford’s body.

- Gideon Rises does still happen, Gideon just resorts to TNT earlier.

- Mabel and Dipper start investigating into their Grunkle Ford’s relationship with Bill after Mabel and Soos, like in canon, witnessed the summoning. Between the worrying entries in the journal and ‘Ford’s tendency to don triangular jewellery and the colour yellow, they suspect something is amiss. He suspiciously keeps dodging the questions too. But the Mystery Twins are on the case! Cue Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained: Grunkle Ford’s Tattoos.

- Stan ends up summoning Bill during Scaryoke, which is why he’s down in the basement initially before coming up to protect the kids. And, like with Gideon, it actually works. It’s only temporary, and Ford’s body always passes out instead of Ford returning to consciousness, but it’s absolutely a step. It’s also the first time Stan sees Bill and hears his actual voice, and he’s laughing for ten minutes straight.

That’s all the rough stuff I have right now! I’m probably gonna work on the finer details some more over time, especially Gideon’s plot as a whole and if Gideon Rises would change much.

And thank you!! I’m glad the AU is enjoyed!

I also do have these very quick doodles I did while brainstorming.

[hoondolls]

COMPLICATED, AS USUAL ! SIM JAEYUN

SYNOPSIS !    Lee Y/N thought her summer in Gokseong would be uneventful—until she finds herself falling for her neighbor, Park Sunghoon. Smart, hardworking, and everything Y/N is not, Sunghoon seems perfect… except for one small problem: he’s already in a serious relationship . To make things even messier, Y/N’s childhood tormentor , Sim Jaeyun, has feelings for her and isn’t shy about letting her know just how foolish her crush on Sunghoon is. Between unspoken confessions, simmering jealousy, and unexpected twists, Y/N’s last summer in the village might just turn out to be the most chaotic one yet.

Or In which Lee Y/ns parents ask the neighbours son to tutor their daughter in maths over the summer break.

GENRE

summer crush , long distance dating , coming of age, angst, non idol au , highschool au, enemies to lover.

f!reader x sim jaeyun

WARNINGS

Internal body shaming, body dysmorphia, cursing, mentions of binge eating, profanity, death threats (jokingly) ,enemies to lovers, kms and kys jokes , parental issues ( mommy and daddy issues ), bullying, clueless sunghoon, tutor sunghoon, tutor jaeyun, misspellings, mean / rude sim jaeyun, reader is a smoker, reader has a twin sister mentions of failing school, reader lives abroad, enhypen members are NOT ALL FRIENDS, maknae line not included!, heeseung & y/n are cousins, jaeyun also lives abroad .

CAST

yunah (illit) as y/n, sim jaeyun, lee heeseung, park sunghoon, park jongseong, jang wonyoung, lee horang, hong aeri, tae yerim

STATUS

ON GOING ( EVERY FRIDAY AND TUESDAY )

TAG LIST (comment or ask to added )

@jakeslvt

CHAPTERS

OO ) PROFILES

O1 ) YOUR COUSINS FINE FRIEND

you’re not y/n

O2 ) DEADBEAT CAT

hot neighbour

O3 ) THIRTY DOLLARS

you don’t know your 7 times tables

O4 ) HIS KIND ?

eat your guts

O5 ) AM I THE BAD GUY ?

clown behaviour

O6 ) CONAN GRAY WAS RIGHT ?

hot neighbour not single

O7 ) THE MYTH OF SISYPHUS

Identity crisis

O8 ) PUBLIC ENEMY

swallow my pride and say I like her

O9 ) PIGGY ?

I’m stupid because I kissed him

10 ) DAD

awkward silence

[leighsartworks216]

Mutually Assured Destruction

Sylus x gn!Reader

I don't remember anymore how this idea came to me but I needed to write it. Makes references to other stories in the Raven series

Warnings: spicy but no smut, collars, leashes, muzzles, marking, ownership, master/pet, light bondage, halloween, slight swearing, established relationship

Word Count: 2,667

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

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You glare at the twins with a hardened fury that could scare any client of Sylus’s into pissing their pants and apologizing to you for the inconvenience. Unfortunately, this is Luke and Kieran. They don’t crumble under the stare. They laugh.

It’s stupid, you decide. Before, well, you were open to the idea. Miss Hunter needs “Skye” to make an appearance at a Halloween party thrown by her colleagues and friends, so it’s only natural he’d want to bring his partner along to join in on the fun. She didn’t argue against it, but she did warn about keeping you - hm, how did she put it again? Ah, yes, on a tight leash.

Why’d she have to say it in front of these chuckleheads?

The black collar is lined with spiked studs, connected to a long leather leash. Sure, fine, whatever. You even like the idea of wearing it, so long as the leash is in Sylus’s hand.

But a muzzle?

“Awe, c’mon! We don’t get to go, so you might as well let us have some fun with it!”

“We can run out and grab you a box of milk bones, if you’d like.”

Sylus wraps an arm around your shoulders and steers you away from the twins before you can successfully wrap the leash around their necks. “You’re dismissed,” he orders with a wave of his hand. He takes the muzzle from you, idly studying it.

You glare over your shoulder at Luke and Kieran, who snicker as they finally do as they’re told. The sound grates on your nerves until the door closes and shuts them out.

You shift out of his hold easily. He perches against his nice, expensive desk as he watches you pace back and forth, fiddling with the leather collar and leash in your hands. He sets the muzzle aside and crosses his arms.

“What are you thinking about?”

A lot of things, quite frankly. Your position as the fearsome guard dog of the great Onychinus leader, Miss Hunter and her little friends, the party, your costume, your increasingly complex feelings on being “owned” by someone…

You know Sylus doesn’t own you. You know, if ever you wished it, you could walk right out of here and go on into forever, and he would let you. It would hurt. But he wouldn’t hold you back.

Is it so wrong if you want him to…?

Your body has never been yours. As a kid, it belonged to the streets and the failed help programs of the city. As a teen, it belonged to your damned tormentor, the Devil. Even when you escaped as a young adult, you didn’t know enough about who you were anymore to hold any claim over yourself. You fought, you struggled, you became cleverer, and scarier. You became the Raven. And for the short time you’ve carried that name, you have learned to own yourself again. Even the ring on your pinky, that eternal promise mirrored on Sylus’s own hand, could not steal that from you.

Maybe it’s not quite ownership you want to give up, then.

You want to keep owning yourself, but you want him to, as well. You want to be that hopelessly loyal guard dog to him. You want to be obedient to his commands, and defiant in order to protect him. You want to tear out the throats of everyone who looks at him the wrong way. You want him to watch….

You want to be wanted.

And you are, aren’t you? He has never made it seem like he wants anything else but for you to be by his side. Not only that, how many times has he made it clear that he belongs to you? How many more times must he before it sinks in? Before you can grasp the fact that he wants to be your hopelessly loyal guard dog? That he wants to be obedient to your every command and defiant in order to protect you? He wants to tear out the throats of everyone who looks at you the wrong way, and he wants you to watch him do it.

He impedes your path, stopping you in your tracks and tilting your head up by your chin. He’s frowning. There’s a furrow between his brows. “What’s wrong?” he asks, more insistent than before.

Wrong? Is anything wrong here? The twins’ meddling in messing with you, maybe - but they weren’t exactly wrong. You are his dog on a leash, a dangerous animal that will bite if given the chance.

But… so is he.

You’re two wild, vicious animals. You’ve lashed out to save yourselves. Done horrific things in order to keep the weaker dogs from challenging you, and even worse things to those who dared to try. But you hold his leash, and he holds yours. You could so easily choke him with it. He could choke you with it. And yet, you are at peace - content in your mutually assured destruction.

“Sweetheart?”

You breathe in deeply. You hold the collar out to him, the leash loosely coiled and dangling from your fingers. He glances down at it, but his attention is focused solely on you.

“I want to wear it,” you say quietly. “But only if you’re the one putting it on.”

Something flickers in his eyes. The furrow in his brow is gone, replaced with silent understanding. He releases your chin. Long fingers wrap around the collar and leash, pressed between your palms as he holds your hand. “What about the muzzle?”

You grin slightly, playfully. It’s that same satisfied smirk you had back when he first met you. “I may need it around all those people, don’t you think?”

He chuckles. “If you behave, I’ll give you a treat after. How does that sound?”

He takes the collar. You can’t deny the thrill that runs through you as you watch him deftly undo the silver buckle. You stare up at him as he wraps the leather around your throat. He stares right back with a hungry look in his eyes as he slowly tightens it.

The leather is surprisingly soft. Not for a dog, that’s for sure. You’re almost grateful the twins regard you with enough respect to buy a collar made for humans. Almost. Not enough to let this whole incident slide unpunished. You think a little target practice to try shooting off the rings on their horns is a good warmup.

He tightens it a little more than necessary. You can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, or the soft sigh that escapes through your nose. You’re rewarded with the familiar press of lips to your own. “Good dog,” he hums teasingly. You hate how much you love it.

He loosens it back up, enough to sit comfortably without rubbing your neck raw. His face is still tauntingly close to yours. Every breath fans over you, daring you to close the gap.

But you don’t.

He draws back once the buckle is secured. The leash hangs down, long enough to reach your mid-calf. “I wonder if you know any tricks,” he muses with a smirk and that cocky head tilt he does. He nods over to his desk. “Sit.”

You narrow your eyes up at him, but you smile. It reminds you of the commands he usually uses to control you during negotiations, and just how you both came to the agreement of using them. And like the good little pet you are, you saunter over to the desk and pull yourself up to sit on it. Back straight, legs crossed at the ankle, hands in your lap. He loves it.

He follows, standing in front of you and picking up the muzzle from his desk. It’s a basket muzzle, shaped to fit a human’s face instead of a dog’s snout. Silver bars weave together in an imprisoning array. Two straps hang in loose circles, held together by silver buckles. Sylus deftly undoes them, while his eyes appreciate the line of the leash that trails down your body and disappears between your thighs.

Holding the basket with one hand, and a strap in the other, he reaches forward to place the muzzle on your face. You turn, dodging the contraption, to catch the meat of his thumb between your teeth. He chuckles. “Behave. Be a good dog, won’t you?”

You bite down slightly harder, enough to leave a mark without breaking skin, but don’t let go. He smirks, leaning down until he’s at eye-level with you. “Here I thought this pup was properly trained. Do I have to tame them myself?”

It’s intoxicating, the playful yet almost threatening lilt in his voice. If you didn’t have a party to go to for Miss Hunter’s sake, you would love to test the limits of your handler even further.

As it is, you do have a party to go to, and time is ticking away.

Your teeth release his flesh. Left behind is a pretty red mark with indents from your canines and incisors. You stare into his eyes as you slowly lick the mark. His eyes follow the swipe of your tongue, darkened with desire.

With no more protests, he affixes the straps around your head - one that goes over your ears and one that goes under. The metal cage over your nose and mouth is cushioned by a strip of soft leather. It’s restrictive, but it’s not uncomfortable. If you wanted to, you could speak… or bark, if you felt like it.

Sylus places a kiss over the metal wires with a devilish grin. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

His hand traces your jaw, fingertips dancing over the straps, to your neck. He idly brushes over the studs along the collar, trailing down the line to reach the D-ring at the front. It’s large enough that he could hook his finger in it, but why do that when there’s a perfectly good leash right there?

The metal clasp of the leash jingles lighty against the ring. You can hear the leather sliding between his fingers as he pulls it from between your thighs. It creaks as he wraps it around his hand. He tugs on it experimentally. You’re jolted forward. The collar is tighter against the back of your neck, straining toward the pull.

“I enjoy it, too,” he hums lowly, for your ears only. He keeps the tension on the line as he leans in to press soft kisses at the edge of the muzzle. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, falsified wariness shining back at him. They flutter shut as he smiles against your skin, trailing his lips lower and lower, over the straps of the muzzle and to the top of the collar.

“I wonder…” His breath is loud in your ears, mixing with your heartbeat, as he leaves an open-mouthed kiss at the line where skin meets leather. “When we get back…” His teeth ghost over your pulse. “How I would look in your place?”

Your eyes snap open and lock onto him. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze with a wide smile. “Would you like that, my beloved?” He kisses your cheek. “Me, collared and chained, obedient to your every command?”

He hums thoughtfully. “I wonder how obedient you really are. Does this dog bark?”

He pulls tighter on the leash, causing you to strain your neck against it. “Growl?”

He suddenly slackens the lead. You’re unsteady as you press your hands into the desk for support. Before you can growl at him, his fingers are pulling down the collar to get to your sweet spot. His teeth nibble at it, pulling an unexpected sound from your mouth. “Oh? So they can whine. Do you howl, too?”

He kisses your skin more intently, sucking on it and leaving little bites, soothed by his tongue. One right below your jaw makes you whimper. “Good dog,” he whispers. His free hand pets your hair, the one holding the leash coming to rest beside your thigh as he leans over you. “Maybe I should cover your whole neck like this.” He bites harder at the spot. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Would you like that, hm? Being mine?”

You nod. You're on cloud nine, mind fuzzy from elation. He tugs at the leash again, this time pulling it behind you so it presses up against your trachea. You gasp in response, fighting to keep sitting upright even as your head is strained back.

“Speak.”

“Yes.”

He slackens the lead again, breath growing heavy and with a growl at the back his throat as he goes to work devouring you. “Good dog.”

-

Miss Hunter greets you a few paces from the door with wide eyes. She stares at the (very fresh) marks littering your neck, some hidden by the collar and some with oddly suspicious teeth marks. She gives Sylus a dubious look. “Just who needs to be muzzled here?”

He smirks lazily. “The difference is who gets bit, kitten. I would hate to rush your coworkers to the hospital tonight.”

She glares at him, before glancing at your neck one more time. “Somebody’s gonna think this is some weird BDSM thing…” Nonetheless, she moves on. “What are you two supposed to be, exactly?”

“Can’t you tell? After all the effort we went through…” He sighs, feigning disappointment. “I’m a vampire. You seemed so insistent on it, because of my red eyes, remember?”

His costume is very toned down - some custom-fit vampire fangs and some nice clothes. Kieran suggested the fake blood, which runs from his lip down his chin.

“And what are they?”

You think Luke snuck into Linkon City for supplies purely to mess with you further, because while Kieran was handing Sylus a bottle of fake blood, Luke was handing you fuzzy animal ears and a fake tail. If it weren’t for the muzzle, you probably would have bitten him when he pat your head.

“My pet werewolf, of course.” He gestures to the leash. “This is just to ensure they don’t go on any rampages while they’re here.”

She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh huh, is that the only reason?”

He tilts his head back at her. “Sorry, sweetie, I’m afraid our relationship is rather exclusive. We’re not looking for a third member right now.”

Her cheeks heat up as she sputters out, “Th-That’s not what I meant!” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Anyway, everyone’s inside. Just, don’t scare them off,” she gives you a pointed look, “and keep your fangs to yourself.” She turns it on Sylus.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’m as docile as they come.”

She shakes her head again and runs off, slipping inside the house where the party is taking place.

A warm hand scratches you playfully behind one of the fake animal ears. “Ready?”

You turn to him and crook a finger to beckon him down to your height. Even without a collar to control him, he does as you ask, until his sharp eyes are level with yours. He shouldn’t have been so caught off guard by the sudden feeling of the leash at the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. He huffs a laugh once he realizes what you’ve done.

From the outside, it looks awkward and uncomfortable. Your leash pulls at your own collar as you hold it around his neck, pinched together at the front with one of your hands so he can’t pull away. From there, it trails down to his own hand, where it’s still wrapped around in his hold.

From the inside, Sylus’s eyes glance down at your mouth, and how he wishes the muzzle weren’t there so he could kiss you. You lean forward until the cold metal wires of the muzzle brush against his ear. “I’m looking forward to my treat.”

He turns his head to meet your eye, a wicked little gleam shining back at you. “So am I.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Ford must talk Y/n down from making a rash decision. Both must face their tormentor head on.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, torture, mental manipulation, PTSD, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“What!? Are you crazy? I would never even think about doing that to you!” Ford was frantic, he really couldn’t believe I just blurted that out so casually.

“Using the memory gun and erasing the thoughts of Bill, and what I saw and went through in the Night Realm, it might just work. I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means keeping the rift safe.”

“No! That’s not even an option on my radar.”

“I’m aware, that’s why I’m making it an option.”

“No. I’m not doing that. I care about you too much to erase your memories all willy-nilly like that.”

“It’s not willy-nilly, Ford. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s a hard decision but…”

“A hard decision!? It’s an impossible decision that I am refusing to make. I’m not gonna do it, and neither are you. End of discussion.”

I sigh, “may I ask why?”

“Because, if I erased your memory of your time in there and your memories of Bill…you’d forget who I am.”

His words struck me. Was this Ford’s weird way of hinting at something? I shook the thoughts away. Ford and I had been through a lot when it came to Bill, and maybe he finally felt like someone truly understood him fully. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he was scared of being the outcast he felt he always was.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s okay. As long as you promise never ask me to do that again.”

I nod, “is there anything else you need from me?”

Ford shook his head, “you can head back upstairs. I just felt like you should know what I found. You and I are of like minds and we both know how evil Bill truly is.”

I nod, “okay, if you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

We shared an understanding look for each other before I walked back upstairs where the twins started to bombard me with questions and stories again. It felt nice that they were accepting of me into their life.

The next couple of weeks were interesting. Dipper and Ford told me about their adventure playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons that was then brought to life because Stan had thrown their dice, making the infinity sided die to roll out of its case. I enjoyed them sharing their adventure with me as I tried to make sense of my night terrors as Mabel called them.

The following week I helped the twins help Stan run for Mayor of Gravity Falls. I supported him 100% as the Stan I knew back in 1973 would have made a great mayor. I didn’t realise how much he had changed, or what little knowledge he had on politics. Still, I was happy to support him no matter what. After saving the kids, he was elected mayor by getting the birdly kiss from the mayor picking eagle. Little did I know Stan had a very extensive criminal record. I guess people do really change more than you realize.

I knew the adventure this week, though, was going to be interesting. I was fast asleep when all of a sudden I was in the middle of the nightmare realm. I feared it was another nightmare, then suddenly it morphed to where I was standing in the middle of a field.

“Y/n?” I heard Ford’s voice call out.

I turned around and saw him standing there, “Ford?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

That’s when we heard the malicious laugh of Bill Cipher. It was no coincidence Ford and I were here. Bill had a plan for us. Big plans.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eye. Stanford Filbrick Pines, my ol’ pal. And, could this be, my sweetheart? Y/n? I think it is.”

“Bill Cipher. What do you want from us?” Ford asked, pulling me behind him.

“Oh quit playing dumb, IQ. You two knew I’d be back. You think shutting down that portal can stop what I have planned. I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day. You can’t keep that rift safe forever. You’ll slip up and when you do…” Bill then shows us a tear leading from our world to the nightmare realm, and I feel like I’m gonna puke.

“Get out of here! You have no dominion in our world!” Ford yelled at Bill, keeping a protective hand on me.”

“Maybe not right now, but things change, Stanford Pines,” Bill’s voice morphs into a creepy deep one, “things change.” He then rises into the tears laughing maniacally.

I shoot up screaming. Scared out of my mind. Bill was coming, and I was utterly terrified. The thought of actually facing Bill scared the shit out of me. Bill was someone I never wanted to actually face ever again. The fact that he appeared to Ford and I meant he was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. That was the thing that scared me the most.

The next morning I could barely get out of bed. I sat there lost in thought, I was unable to fall back asleep after our meeting with Bill. I heard Ford call for a family meeting and I gathered all the courage I could muster and walked downstairs.

“Y-Y/n? Are you alright?” Ford asked, looking at me concerned.

“I’m scared, worried, I didn’t go back to sleep last night if that’s what you mean.” I stated.

Ford felt terrible I had gotten dragged into this, but little does he know I did it to myself. Bill’s infatuation with us was no coincidence.

“Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions. Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?” Mabel asked hopping in a chair and started to go through the bag Ford had on the table.

“No, I assure you if there is an owl in this bag, he’s long dead.” Ford took the bag from her.

Dipper and her sat down as I stood behind Ford. He pulled out a scroll paper and showed it to the kids, “Now, tell me children, do any of you recognize this symbol?” He holds up a scroll with Bill on it.

They both gasp before Dipper speaks, “Bill.”

“Y-You know him?” Ford was shocked, and so was I.

“Know him!? He’s been terrorizing us all summer. I have so many questions and theories.” Dipper spoke frantically.

“Dipper’s been pretty paranoid since Bill turned him into a living sock puppet.” Mabel added.

“The important thing is, we defeated him twice.” Dipper interjected.

“Once with kittens, and once with tickles.”

“It was a lot more heroic than it sounds.”

I looked at Ford concerned about the kids. This was serious, the fact they have faced Bill. It means he now has access to their minds, especially Dipper. Ford looked back at me with the same concerned look.

“The fact you have dealt with Bill is gravely serious.” Ford spoke up.

“So, how do you know Bill?” Dipper questioned. I knew I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet, and I knew Ford wasn’t ready either.

“Y/n and I have encountered many dark beings in our time, Dipper. What matters now is, his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe.”

I wanted to punch Ford for confirming my suspicions. He was never good at comforting, so I don’t blame him entirely, but I didn’t want those to be confirmed. Neither did the kids as they gasped at what Ford just stated.

“Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks.” He unrolls a map onto the table, and grabs a marker, “a way to Bill-proof the shack. All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, here, and here, “he draws circles on the map, “sprinkle some mercury, and let’s see. I always forget the last ingredient.” He flips through Journal 1, “ugh. unicorn hair.”

“That’s not, like, rare, is it?” Dipper asks.

“It’s hopeless. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

Mabel began screaming at the top of her lungs. She begged Ford to let her go on this quest to get the hair. Naming everything she has done that proves that she is obsessed with unicorns. Then she mentions that she is probably the most good-hearted person in the room. No one argues with her about that. Ford agrees to let her go, giving her the journal and a crossbow.

“Y/n, you wanna come with me and the girls on this quest?”

“I actually need Y/n here with Dipper and I.” Ford answers before I can say anything.

Mabel shrugs and calls her friends and sets off on the quest for unicorn hair. Ford leads Dipper and I down to the second floor of the basement. A place neither of us have seen yet.

“If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, we’re going to have to do the next best thing. We’re gonna have to Bill-proof our minds.” Ford pulls out a device that strangely looks like a torture device.

Ford begins to turn the machine on and places the metal helmet on Dipper’s head. This must have been the device Ford wanted to use on me a couple weeks ago, but worried my mind would still be vulnerable to his torment because of my dreams.

“So, what is Bill exactly?” Dipper questions.

“No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins. I know he is older than our galaxy, and far more twisted.”

“No kidding…” I mumble, still traumatized from my extra time with him in the nightmare realm.

Ford gives a sympathetic look before he continues, “not a physical form, he can only project himself through our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this.” Ford holds up the rift, “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”

“So how do we keep Bill out of our minds?” Dipper inquired.

“There are a number of ways I personally had a metal plate installed in my head.” Dipper doesn’t believe him, so Ford taps his head proving he does, “but this machine is safer. It will scan your mind, biologically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them.” Ford switches the screen on, “now, say hello to your thoughts.”

Dipper thoughts play across the screen. Some are interesting, others are utterly embarrassing. I felt bad that his poor thoughts were on display for us.

“By the way, you two never told me what your history with Bill was.”

“Dipper, do you trust us?” Ford asks, and he nods, “then you’ll trust that’s not important. Now, focus. It's time to strengthen your mind.”

The three of us sit there for hours as the machine slowly encrypts Dipper’s thoughts. I look over at Ford who has fallen asleep at his desk. “Must be nice to be able to sleep anywhere…or at all…”

“What’s been going on with you lately by the way? You’re more distant and paranoid, especially today.”

“It’s Bill. He scares the heck out of me. The thought of coming face to face with him in a physical form terrifies me.”

“S-so you had a bad experience with Bill too, huh?”

“I-it wasn’t always like that, Dipper…Bill and I were actually very close…then I got a true peak at what he really wanted…on the other side of my portal…he tortured me…Ford and Stan won’t be happy I am telling you this, but you and Mabel were going to find out eventually…”

“W-Wait, your portal? Y-you didn’t go through with Great Uncle Ford?”

I shake my head, “no…I had made my own. I found an old book in my parents' attic. They used to be Anti-Cipherites, or descendants of some. A group looking to take down Bill. It had an encryption on how to summon him. I did, and that night he appeared to me. He showed me his equation, he tricked me with his flattery, saying I didn’t need school or friends. Helping him would give me everything I ever wanted. Including helping my friend so he could finally go home before his brother left for college….that friend was your Uncle Stan…”

Dipper's eyes widened, “h-how old are you then?”

“Technically 61, but the place I was stuck in has no concept of time, so I never really aged…”

Dipper’s jaw dropped, “s-so you knew Grunkle Stan before he was banned from New Jersey?”

I nodded, “Stan lived with me.”

[shmisky]

What does your fem!stan look like? Sorry, i just realized you rarely describe how she looks and im dying to know how you imagine her 💜

True, I don’t! I’m flattered by your enthusiasm! 🩷

I imagine any fem!Stan as a... femme, so to speak. That’s because I see canon Stan’s over-the-top, exaggerated masculinity as largely performative; he wants to please Filbrick, to be a “manly man,” tough and aggressive, because that’s how his father and society (especially in his formative years) thought that all men should be. Fem!Stan, then, to me, would fall straight into the opposite category: she would start to perform hyperfemininity, instead! That’s what would please her father the most, imo, her most useful mask. So, in this way, both Stan and fem!Stan are trying to fit their assigned gender roles the best they can, even if they sometimes (utterly) fail.

I imagine that baby fem!Stan started as tomboyish, but with time, as she grew up, started getting more and more feminine. I headcanon she did theater classes instead of boxing classes (because again, her dad believes 100% in gender roles), and as a result she’s less aggressive and more genuinely charismatic than her canon counterpart. I picture her with long, slightly wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, very curvy and plump, and girly clothing. She has acne too, but she covers it up with makeup.

I have also written a fic in which both Stans are girls, called Queens of New Jersey, here. In QNJ, their physical appearance is a little more described, and my descriptions of fem!Stan’s (Melanie) can easily be applied to my fem!Stan (Stefanie) in the AU where Ford is still a man.

For context, my fem!Stan in QNJ is called Melanie, nickname Mel. My fem!Ford is called Melinda, nickname Linda. All the excerpts below are from Linda’s POV.

Baby fem!Stan (the tomboy):

Unlike Linda, who took secret pride in her long twin-braided hair, Mel could actually be mistaken by a boy if not for the too delicate facial features and high-pitched voice, not to mention the most recent development Linda was trying very hard not to think about. Her short curly hair, the fact she only ever wore pants or shorts and dirty sneakers, and her brash, bold as brass behavior were all indicative of her endearing (in Linda’s admittedly, shamelessly biased opinion) boyish character.

Her small, slender arms concealed a physical strength Linda wished would be useful against their bullies. It wasn’t, of course, since their tormentors were mostly girls and everyone knew girls—well-bred girls—didn’t beat each other up, but it never failed to impress her. Mel was a rowdy little tomboy, no doubt about it, and as such would always look the part.

Teen fem!Stan (hyperfeminine):

Sometimes she missed the old Melanie.

The little girl who didn’t care for skirts and make-up, all dirty nails and scraped knees, popsicle juice dribbling messily down her chin. A missing tooth instead of lipsticked lips, a bandage on her cheek instead of soft pinkish blush. She had been oh so much easier to understand, effortlessly in sync with Linda as twins should always be.

This Melanie was a new creature entirely. Even after almost two years, Linda still couldn’t get used to its strange habits.

[...]

She cursed the day their father had decided to offer them—more accurately, force them to attend—theater classes. The day Mel had finally understood that the way to please their father was to embrace gender roles instead of run from them, leaving Linda behind in the androgynous limbo of reason and science.

[...]

The shop had been short of options for curvy girls and Mel had been forced to rent it a size smaller, a knee-length puffy dress which made her look even more—ah, shit—cute. Very sweet, adorable even. Yes. Exactly. Plump like a ripe peach—no. Not like—not like something that could be eaten—

Like a flower. A flower not yet fully bloomed, shaped round and voluminous, the softness of its petals still encased in a bud—shielding an even greater, hidden beauty—

Heavens above, Melanie was all softness.

[...]

Linda didn’t understand much of fashion, but she understood just enough of what she saw. The dress was incredibly… form fitting, just as she remembered it being, hugging her sister’s curves like a possessive lover. There was an abundance of flesh to cover, ever since Mel’s body had developed—simple biology, of course, it was only natural—grown cushioned and womanly like a Renaissance muse.

The cleavage was a tad too generous for Linda’s taste, revealing far more of the smooth, creamy skin of the chest than she would have been comfortable with. They were squished by the bodice, and already quite large, which—

Focus.

It was a flattering outfit, perhaps all the more due to its smaller size. Objectively so. She was certain any man—any person with eyes would agree.

[...]

Linda couldn’t comprehend why she felt so irritated, for lack of a better word.

Perhaps it was the contrast between her own body and Mel’s, how overly feminine her sister’s hourglass figure looked covered in pink, of all colors. Perhaps it was the perfectly coiffed brown curls, framing her sister’s face in a highlight of her best features.

[...]

Because, even though Linda was not stronger than Mel, her hand almost dwarfed the perfect curve of Mel’s waist, the slight narrowing created by her wide, feminine hips in her delicate, feminine form.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Pleasure

*smut implied 18+ readers*

Derkila grunts. His fangs dig into your flesh. You can't stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Your nails cut into his broad shoulders. Twin rivers of blood trail down his back.

He groans, sending vibrations across your skin. You release a small pleading whine, bucking your hips in hopes of gaining even a small bit of friction. You can hear the bastard chuckle. You growl.

It wasn't fair! His large hands pinned your hips down against his desk. He's been teasing you for hours now! Stupid demons and their stupidly large stamina!

If you had known he was going to put you on edge for this long, you would have tossed him out the window. Maybe even yell at him to go demolish a building or something instead to release his stress. But nnnnnoooooo!

You yank his hair, forcing him to look at you. That gleeful grin runs across his face. "You're so delicious when you're frustrated and desperate." He purrs.

You glare at him darkly. Desire, rage, and the need to dominate course through your veins. Your hand shifts from his dark lock to his horns. He gasps. You jerk him forward, wrapping your legs around his neck.

He moans. You're the only one who can treat him like this. The only one allowed to force him into submission and please you. You shuddered as his tongue swipes your skin his teeth grazing your most sensitive parts.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your grip tightens, wanting more. Needing it after waiting for so long. "Don't make me wait..." The growl you had intended to use sounded more like a whine.

He smirks and plants kisses along your thigh. Slowly moving your legs farther apart as his lips travel up your body. He nips at your neck. "Derkila..." Were you warning him or begging? At this point, you weren't sure.

He looks straight into your eyes. "Yes... just like that. Keep calling my name." He murmured, stroking your cheek. You can feel his nails trail along your jugular. His dilated pupils focused on you.

He pulls you in kissing you deeply. You sigh as he finally gives you what you want. Your body wrapped around his large frame tightly. As if to keep him in place.

"Derkila..." Your lover. "Derkila... mm..." Your tormentor. "DERKILAAAAA!!!" Your slice of heaven in this dark world. "Your screams sound so lovely." He whispers seductively.

You kick his shoulder in annoyance. Your attempt to force him off you makes him laugh. He offers coos and apologies, and you look away, not wanting to fall for his fake tenderness. "Go play with Sully!" You snap irritably.

Wiggling out of his embrace and fixing your appearance before storming out of his office. "Wait! Wait!" He laughs and chases after you. "Don't be like that angel~"

[thelittlestspider]

posting a prequel excerpt

taglist: @hiitspath . @badscientist . @werewolfhooligan . @cassettetapecryptid . @mschupacabra . @rosesonneptune .

cw: death, bullying.

Matt's grandmother dies in her sleep on a Wednesday. At first, he thinks she's just sleeping. Sometimes Grandma Joan would take pills to help her sleep, and she slept for hours, leaving Matt to entertain himself.

"Grandma, it's time to wake up!" He gently shakes her by the shoulder, but she doesn't stir. A nagging dread creeps into the back of his mind, but he refuses to look at it. "Grandma?" She lies there unresponsive, her skin beginning to go cold.

He runs to look at the list of numbers Grandma Joan taped to the fridge, because above all she raised him to be practical. He dials 911 and waits.

...

After Grandma Joan dies, it takes a week for Jack to sober up and claim him (at the time they tell Matt Jack is sick. His grandma always just told him the truth; that Jack was binge drinking and probably didn't currently remember he even had a son).

They put him up at a school slash group home called St. Agnes — which is actually a home for troubled girls — and Matt has a room to himself with a small desk next to a twin bed.

Some of the girls are nice, and let him play games with them and share their toys. Others torment him relentlessly; knocking his books out of his hands, writing mean comments on his desk, in his books, and leaving notes in his room. There's a group of girls who corner him during recess and beat the snot out of him when the nuns aren't watching, chanting, "Daredevil, daredevil, daredevil!" mockingly.

One day, he's curled up on the ground in the fetal position while the girls punch and kick him, laughing at his misery, when he hears, "Hey!!" shouted from across the playground and the rapid footsteps of someone sprinting towards them. He hears the impact of fists raining down on his tormentors and then blessed silence when they run away.

Matt peeks from behind his crossed arms to see two girls standing over him. One girl is very small with brown skin, big brown eyes, and a big grin with a missing tooth. Her hair is pulled back in a braid and there are a bunch of sparkly clips in her hair.

The other girl is taller, with light brown skin and thick, curly black hair, wearing big, round glasses that make her look owlish. Her shoulders hunch in on themselves like she's trying to disappear, and her expression is one of a hunted animal.

"Do you wanna be friends?" The smaller girl says with bubbling exuberance. Matt nods dumbly. He's never had friends before.

The girls introduce themselves to Matt after they help him off the ground. The shorter girl is Kirsten and the taller girl is Elektra ("I call her Ellie," Kirsten says, smiling at Elektra. "Elektra sounds so serious and grown up and cool. But she's my Ellie-belly!" Elektra blushes, the tiniest smile quirking her lips.) and Kirsten asks him a million questions. What's his name? What kind of games does he like? Does he like books? What kind of books? Does he like movies? Does he like TV shows? Does he have siblings?

He tries to answer as best he can (Matt. Baseball, street hockey. Yes. Horror, mystery, and scifi sometimes. He likes the movies about heroes saving the day. He's not sure about TV shows because he mostly watched his grandmother's soaps while trying to avoid homework, and he wasn't really impressed with them. He has no siblings.). He's grateful she doesn't ask why he's at St. Agnes. So he doesn't ask her either.

[bbgliker-teehee]

Warning: long rant

OK, so before the series premiered, I had a sudden thought. How will the humans-turned-angels feel about the sinners going to Heaven? The more I thought about it, the more I realised that Charlie's plan may not be as good as we believed. Yes, she has good intentions, but it may have consequences. Let me explain!

So, let's take Angel Dust as an example. When he was alive his was Anthony. He had a twin sister, Molly, an older brother, Araknis (I think, we don't know his actual name), and his parents. Anthony was (and still is) a drug addict AND he was part of the mafia, alongside his brother and father. What does that mean? He killed people. Both bad and good. And we've seen that Angel takes pleasure in killing. He thinks it's fun.

Which is why I got annoyed when Emily asked: "Yeah, why isn't he here in here (in Heaven)?

I was like: "Oh, I don't Em. Maybe because he was in the mafia and killed people!"

I can imagine that Angel and his family have a lot of enemies in Hell who constantly want to take revenge (it would have been very interesting to include that in the show). And the innocent people that Angel, in his previous life, killed are now in Heaven, away from all worries, all the pain and away from the people who hurt and killed them. Now, let's say that Angel gets redeemed and goes to Heaven. He and Molly will reunite happily (and maybe his mom is also there). But I don't think some people will be happy to see him. Heaven was supposed to be a place of eternal peace, and to see your killer, now living in the same paradise as you do, shatters this peace. The angels will be like: "Why is he here? Isn't he supposed to be Hell for his crimes? Why did you let him in Heaven? Are all our murderers and tormentors will be living alongside us now?" etc. That will cause panic, paranoia and anger among the residents of Haven. They will demand answers from they superiors (the ones who were supposed to protect them from all evil) and will want Angel to go back to Hell, where he belongs. They may even take matters into their own hands and kill Angel. And they will lose faith in God, his angels and their judgment. Imagine an uprising. God will cast the rebels out of Heaven and will become fallen angels and end up in Hell. It will be even more populated than before.

So, yeah. End of my long rant.😅 Sorry if I have some grammar errors, English is not my first language. What do you think about all that I have written? Does it make sense or is it a bunch of nonsense?

I think if Angel ever gets to heaven Viv would probably just make a "HA HA OMG THIS IS SOOOOOO AWKWARD😁😋😁😋😁😋😁" to all the innocent souls he's killed, even tho we both know that it'll be traumatic for them....BUT HEY TRAUMA IS ONLY IMPORTANT WHEN IT'S ANGEL'S TRAUMA!!!!!/s

[esperfruit]

My first TUGS OC! Zorran has a fraternal twin sister???

Lucia "Zoa" di Palma

Age: 37

Height: 174 cm

Lucia is Zorran's younger twin sister and these two had been inseperable from birth on. They did everything together and aside from their eyecolor and birth gender could've been mistaken for identical twins. Lucia was known as the more rambunctious twin and a local menace. Their family was very poor and both were sold into care of another family when the twins were eight. Their adoptive parents were known criminals that were active in child labour, somthing their biological parents knew. Lucia and Zorran were both put under brutal living conditions and their guardians loved hurting them, with Lucia being their favorite target.

At their lowest point Zorran promised Lucia that as the oldest sibling, he will protect her and get them out of there soon. When they were twelve, Zorran was able to steal a gun and when their tormentors were threatening Lucia again, Zorran was too scared to fire the gun and it was on Lucia to take the gun and kill their tormentors instead. Afterwards they had a falling out where Lucia called out Zorran on failing to protect her, disappointing her and breaking his promise, including on forcing her to have blood on her hands. Lucia ran away in rage and that was the last time they saw each other for 25 years.

While both twins lived on the streets for a long time at first, when Zorran was found by Captain Zero, ironically at around the same time, Lucia was taken in by a criminal loan shark. There Lucia developed a merciless and calculated attitude of one who collects money like a cold and venomous viper. However, she never lost her fun-loving side, which she shows the most in casinos, where she is known as the flamboyant and overly-confindent "Gambler Queen".

After an underground casino opened in Bigg City, the Zero Fleet headed down there as Zero had a buisness meeting with a certain loan shark. This is when the twins finally reunited and Lucia opened the reunion with tackeling her older brother to a table and trying to stab him in front of everyone, still mad at Zorran.

Zorran tried to make up with Lucia on multiple occasions since then but she would not forgive him and st some points he would make things even worse. It took a deadly confrontation between Zero and the loanshark, a chaotic brawl in the casino and Zorran taking a bullet to his shoulder to protect Lucia for the twins to rekindle their bond. After the death of Lucia's boss, she was welcomed by the Zero Fleet to become Z-Stack number 6 under the name "Zoa". As a Z-Stack, her favorite things to do are making up for lost years by spending time with Zorran, playing cards with Zug and Zebedee, chatting with Lillie, bantering with Hercules and tormenting Zak (he's secretly into her).

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: After the events of Ashes, Finn has an encounter with Blaze, who makes it his business to harass him. (Blaze also projects a lot). Word count: 1603

Warnings: Bullying, fatphobia, name calling, swearing, Blaze is really fucking mean, blood, violence, gore(???)

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Bait

Finn felt like he was spiralling. There was a hole in his heart, a pit in his stomach, a well of sadness that wouldn't go away.

His fight with Azul had been circling in his head for days. Every time he felt he might be over it, the memories sprang up once again as if they were brand new.

At first, Finn was simply hurt. He may have even shed a few tears. But then, after replaying the whole ordeal over and over in his mind, that sharp, fiery feeling of anger settled over him.

How dare Azul? How dare he, after everything Finn has done for him? Stuck with him through thick and thin, chased off his bullies, showered him in compliments, loved him with all his heart, helped him start his stupid lounge... only now, it seemed trivial. Worthless, in Azul's eyes.

The sadness and anger swirled together to create a damning mass of too much emotion. Finn was petty and, if he were to be honest with himself, mean.

Azul was trying to make it up to him. He at least seemed to regret what be said, but Finn wasn't having it. As Azul tried to fix things, Finn found himself talking before he could stop himself, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry, Mister Ashengrotto, I'm afraid I have clubs with Malleus-senpai today. Oh, don't worry, I'll be sure to tell him to compliment you. Will that satisfy you? I'll even be quiet myself since what I have to say is worthless to you."

"Mister Ashengrotto, I don't have time for art galleries. Vil-senpai is helping me plan a diet. ...Yes, of course I need it. You made that quite clear."

He really wanted to go to that art gallery.

Every time Finn said "Mister Ashengrotto" instead of "Azul," "love"," "My love", "darling" and so on, Azul would flinch and go quiet.

An ugly part of Finn, deep down, took pleasure in that reaction.

The twins, caught in the middle of this whole debacle, flip-flopped between waiting to see what would happen and trying to to solve the issue.

It was a fruitless effort. Finn was unwilling to let things be fixed. He was too angry, hurt too deeply, to allow it.

This, of course, left him in a constant bad mood. If he were as powerful as Malleus, a thunderstorm would have descended upon the school.

Other students avoided him even more than usual, giving him a wide berth. Nobody wanted to risk passing him off further.

Well, nobody except one.

"There you are, pipsqueak."

The sound of that familiar posh, snobbish voice made Finn suck in a breath and tighten his grip on his books. He continued down the hall at a quick pace, ignoring his tormentor the best he could. He was not in the mood for this.

"Hey! I'm talking to you." A large, bony hand gripped his shoulder and forcefully turned him around until he faced a pair of bright yellow eyes.

"For a guy who acts so polite, you're really rude, you know." Said Blaze Dugal with a crooked grin. "You answer and look at someone when they're talking to you. It's basic manners."

He paused.

"Do you know basic manners? You grew up pretty wild."

Finn pried Blaze's hand off his shoulder and glared at his. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, Dugal. Go waste your time elsewhere."

"I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, Dugal. Go waste your time elsewhere." Blaze mocked with a laugh, his voice shrill. "Still trying to sound all fancy and clever, I see. All collected, even though your weird, cringy friendship with Azul is toast."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Blaze scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Azul'a got his tentacles in a knot trying to do you favours left and right, and you're acting like a kicked puppy. Anyone with a brain can see it a mile away."

Finn's nostrils flared, but he decided not give Blaze the satisfaction of a response and stepped back to leave. However, he was stopped by the very unwelcome feeling of Blaze draping himself over him

"So, what caused trouble in paradise? What did he say? Did he finally let slip what a parasite you are? Tell you he doesn't actually need you for anything?"

Blaze would always bait Finn like this, hoping to get the reaction he wanted in some way or other.

"Keep spitballing, maybe after the next few hundred guesses you'll hit the target." Finn snapped, immediately failing at ignoring Blaze. He didn't have the patience to act all together.

"Oh, snappy today. So he did say something bad. Was I right, then? Did he finally tell you how little use you actually have?"

Bait. It's bait.

"No."

'"Really? Are you sure?" Blaze asked sweetly. "I wouldn't blame him if he did say that. What do you do, exactly? Gather information? Jade, Floyd, heck, all of you octavinelle freaks do that. Keep staff and customers in line? Anybody in their second year could do that. Take someone's form? Steal a voice? Potions can do that. That creep of a first year in your dorm can do that. Tell me, Finn, why does Azul even keep you around?"

The bait was dangling.

"I don't have to explain anything to you." Finn hissed.

Blaze sighed. "Ah, true. I get it. Really, I do. If I were you, I wouldn't want to think about why someone I admire so greatly even bothered to keep me around, either. Especially of my presence reminds me of the version of him he hates so much."

"Shut up!" Finn snarled, and a nearby window cracked.

Every single time he took that bait, like a stupid little fish.

Blaze pressed his forefingers together and then pressed them against his lips, smiling innocently.

"So that's what he said, then? Finally got honest about how all of this," He reached down and poked Finn's flabby, pudgy stomach for emphasis. "-is nothing but a reminder of everything he hated about himself?"

"I-"

"Oh!" Blaze pulled a face like he had a sudden revalation. "Maybe that's why he keeps you around. As a reminder of what he was. An encouragement to keep counting those calories. He must hate that gross, flabby body of yours."

"He doesn't."

'He doesn't.' Finn assured himself. 'He loves me. He loves me.'

"It must hurt, right? For someone you adore so much, someone you bend over backwards for, because really, Finn, you don't have a spine when it comes to Azul, to be so disgusted by you. For him to think you're ugly."

'No. Azul- Azul loves me. He wouldn't-"

A memory from that awful night sprang forth.

"Do you really think being fat makes you ugly?" Finn asked, his voice so quie Azul almost couldn't hear.

Azul hesitated.

'No, no, no, no. Azul wouldn't think that. Azul doesn't think that. Azul doesn't find him gross or disgusting.

Does he?

"Guess you two aren't as tight as you thought."

For someone with no claws or fangs to speak of, Blaze's grin was awfully predatory.

Finn stomped on his foot and elbowed in him the stomach and the drew back with a yelp. He stumbled back a few steps, angry at first, but then that grin returned, and he laughed.

"Guess I hit a nerve. You aren't gonna come and butcher me, are you?"

"You're not even worth the effort." Finn spat with as much venom as he could muster. "You won. Leave me alone and harass someone else."

"Come on now, that's no fun." Blaze drawled, closing the short distance between them once again and draping his arm over Finn's shoulder.

"You're my favourite person to mess with. That's the highest compliment you'll ever get from me, you know. There's not much about you deserving of compliments. Makes me wonder why Azul let's himself be seen interacting with you. You're a real blow to his reputation. I-"

Blaze was abruptly cut off by Finn suddenly turning his head and biting down on Blaze's arm as hard as possible.

Blaze screamed and frantically ripped his arm away, but that only made it worse.

Blood dripped down his arm onto the floor in thick rivulets, and the spot where his blazer, shirt, and a piece of flesh had been torn off was drenched red.

"Ow ow ow, what the fuck-"

As Blaze screeched in a mix of rage and pain, Finn spat out what was missing from about 3cm of Blaze's arm, and it hit the floor with a wet "splat". The taste of fabric, flesh, and blood was a terrible combination.

"Fuck, you shitty little parasite!" Blaze roared, his eyes bulging. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Finn simply sent a bloody smile his way, turned around, and began walking down the hallway.

"Hey! HEY! GET BACK HERE! I'M GONNA REPORT YOU FOR THIS YOU FUCKING PARASITIC WELP! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Finn didn't respond. Blaze could complain all he liked (after a hospital visit, of course), but since this hallway had no cameras, he had no proof apart from a bite that could have come from anyone or anything. Finn made sure not to make it look like a circle.

Finn smiled to himself as he wandered to his music class, though Blaze's screams were all the music he needed.

He was finally feeling a bit better.

-End

..........................................

A/N: Ty so much for reading! I'm actually surprised at how mean I managed to make Blaze I'm usually not good at that sort of thing

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

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@quartztwst

[underfaller]

I grow maddened. 

Rating: T Bill Cipher/ Ford Pines Word Count: 1.5k

I grow maddened. 

Stanford races away from the town until the cobblestone path turns into thick snow. The words circle around his skull, over and over-- a broken record that plays into his increasing insanity. As he stumbles through the woods, his vision lurches; Ford swears that all the dark trees have familiar, yellow eyes, watching every step he makes. 

Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 

The townspeople all have Bill's eyes. They’re all watching me. I can’t trust them. 

In Gravity Falls, you can trust no one. That isn't a problem-- Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 

He barges into his cabin, fumbling with the door’s (multiple) locks before sinking to the floor, back against the hardwood. Ford clutches his right eye. It’s agonizing. Thick blood drips from the organ, sliding down his fingers as he sits, half panting, half sobbing, and fully delirious. 

My muse was a monster. I was a puppet.

Ford stands up, storming through his empty home, still clutching his wounded eye. Blind. I was so blind! How could I have been so stupid? He’s hurt. Betrayed. And furious at himself. 

Ford tears off at the golden tapestries that adorn every corner of the cabin. He shatters every crystal prism until his boots crunch against glass that litters the floor like iridescent snow. Still, he cannot shake his delirium. 

‘Sixer, it’ll eat you alive.’

He’s exhausted, yet he can’t sleep. When Ford even closes his eyes a bit longer than usual, his vision dances with triangles and he snaps them open in a panic. No, he can’t possibly sleep knowing who he’ll see in his dreams.  

But Ford doesn’t know how much longer he can stay awake. He’s growing desperate. He wonders if this is all worth it.

I grow maddened.  

Stanford’s never considered suicide but in his misery and fatigue, the blissful peace of eternal sleep is tempting.Even rabid animals gain the respite of death, surely, Ford reckons, he deserves that much. 

Or do my failures make me less than an animal? 

Ford wonders if he should leave a note. It would certainly be in character-- Stanford always needed to have the last word.

But who would even read it?

Not F. His former partner is probably already in  Palo Alto, enjoying his doting family without even a sliver of thought about Ford or their former dreams. 

Not his brother. How long has it even been? It must have been over ten years since Ford saw him. He envisions his twin’s face-- identical to his own despite their opposite personalities and paths in life. 

Was I too harsh on him all those years ago? 

Would he even care?

Perhaps, his old muse and his current tormentor. Though, Stanford’s suicide note would be more of a white flag than a triumphant last statement. Bill would certainly be amused by his former devotee’s fate. 

Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 

Ford makes his way up to the attic.

Perhaps this is the most logical course of action. 

He plans every step in his life yet the one to end it is one done most spontaneously. 

If I do this one thing by myself, will it finally be of my own accord--my own freedom? Or am I still being pulled by his strings?

Ford is in no mental state to pursue such theoreticals now. 

After some fenangling, he undoes his tie and stands atop a rickety chair begging to be kicked over. A red noose hangs over his head, its shadow looming over Stanford like Death. 

Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 

Stanford looks down. On the floor is a pair of knitted gloves. He made sure to take them off before tying his noose. He closes his eyes. 

He doesn’t see Bill. Instead he sees Fiddleford. Then Stanley. 

They make him hesitate. 

“Ha… hahaha!” 

Stanford’s stomach lurches as his vision doubles. A wave of nausea washes over him before all he can feel is pain and panic and as he grapples for something-- anything-- he only falls further into blackness. 

When Stanford opens his eyes once more, he’s met by his muse. He hovers in front of him with a smug grin. 

“Hiya, Stanford! Watcha doin’?” 

He’s paralyzed in mid air but can still muster words filled with malice. 

“Get out of my head.” 

“Why? So you can continue trying to kill yourself? You’re so dramatic, Fordsy!” 

Bill lets out a shrill laugh; it makes Stanford’s ears ring. 

“I said get out of my head!” Ford shouts. 

Bill stops laughing. There’s a short silence. It feels like an eternity in this pitch darkness. Bill shrugs, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fine, if you want to die so badly, let me help!” 

“Wait-” 

Ford’s body suddenly goes limp, his mind goes slack. Fear overcomes him. 

“Have you forgotten? You’re my puppet.” Bill stumbles around in Ford’s body, giggling. He watches in horror as Bill puppeteers his body off the chair, towards the window. He throws it open, exposing himself to the freezing, winter temperatures. 

“I can do whatever I please with this meat puppet and you, well, you’re just here for the ride! So relax, Sixer, and enjoy the show!”

Even from his mental prison, Ford feels the biting January snow against his skin. 

“Let go of me, Bill! Our deal is off! Get out of my body! Get out of my-” 

“Mind? You first, IQ!” Bill taunts. “Do you think I’d let you go so easily? No, no. Silly Stanford, you’re mine. From now until eternity!” 

Bill takes in a deep breath and exhales, clouds forming from his hot breath. He looks down. 

It's a long way down. 

“Now this is the way to go! Not with some half baked noose made out of your own tie. No, no, my Sixer deserves a spectacular death! Haha!” 

Ford watches in horror as his body teeters over the snowy ledge. He tries to fight the darkness but he’s paralyzed, at the mercy of Bill’s control. 

“What was it again? Ad astra per aspera?” Bill shouts into the icy wind. He cackles maniacally. “Well you better start flapping, Icarus!” 

Ford tries to summon even an ounce of willpower to stop Bill’s possession of his body. He’d never beg aloud for anything. He’d never grovel to Bill Cipher for his meager life. 

But Bill hears all of his thoughts. 

Stop Bill. Please stop. 

Bill laughs aloud.  “Aww…Scared to die? Don’t get cold feet now!” 

Ford’s suffocating. His mind is swimming. His vision swarms. He can’t breathe. 

He needs control but he’s not in control. He never was. 

I am going to die. I’m going to really die here. 

He’s being buried alive in this void. Still, he chokes, 

“Why? I thought you still needed me to turn the portal on?” 

His muse shushes him with a hand wave.

“Can’t a demon help his old partner out? Call it an act of divine benevolence.” 

Bill’s simpering voice makes Ford shiver. He tries to protest further, but he can’t speak. He thinks of Fiddleford. 

He thinks of Stanley. 

He thinks of Shermie. 

He thinks of his mother. 

I am really never going to see them again. 

I still- 

Bill snaps his fingers and everything goes dark for Ford. As he prepares to throw Ford’s helpless body off the window’s ledge, he suddenly stops. Silence. The wind howls. Bill slowly steps back. 

“Ya know Sixer, I could completely wipe your memory with a snap of my fingers. Make you this petty revenge. You could be my little human pet for all of eternity! Wouldn’t that be much better than whatever this is?” 

He examines Stanford’s body in a mirror. Yellow eyes glint back at Bill. This is the optimal Ford. Too bad his little pet didn’t see eye to eye anymore. 

“But it wouldn't be that much fun, would it? At least for me. It’s not the same when I force you to worship me.” 

Ford is still incapacitated but Bill continues. Bill furrows his brow. He sighs. 

“You were such a devout worshiper. You’re actually adorable! Not to mention, very useful-- and a freak of nature to boot! We were the perfect duo! Though I suppose that’s come to an end…” 

Bill laughs bitterly. 

“If you were any of my other henchmen. Oho--you'd be a splatter on the wall right now! It’s ridiculous how difficult it is for me to actually kill you.”

L kdyh ixoo frqwuro ryhu brx, bhw, vrphwlphv, L ihho olnh brx’uh wkh rqh zlwk wkh vwulqjv.

Bill looks at the open window one last time before his smirk returns. 

“You'll come around in time, ” He says. “Eventually. For now, keep futilely struggling. I'll just wait. I have all of time to wait.” 

Bill snaps his fingers again. Ford is once again in his body. The hallucination is over. He looks around wildly. 

“Either way, this party is far from over so don’t go offing yourself yet!” Bill's voice calls. “If you do, I might have to get your twin involved-- and you probably don’t want that.” 

Silence once more. The sun is rising. Ford stands in the middle of the empty room, his heart in his throat.  

As dawn arrives, a soft, golden light shines upon him through a single, triangular window.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Eighteen - S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' Death, Umbridge, Death, not proofread,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: It's been awhile but I'm back! I'm finally getting out of my writing slump! I was half asleep writing this but enjoy! Let me know if there are ANY errors!

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1183

dividers are @firefly-graphics

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was a few days later meaning that it was Christmas. Arthur had been released from Saint Mungo’s and everyone was packing in at the Black house. There was almost no space around the house for everyone, the kids hiding out in Harry’s room, the twins spending most of their time in the kitchen with Severus talking about new recipes, Y/N spending her time in the living room with Remus and Sirius and the rest of the Weasley clan was doting on Arthur since his return.

Christmas came and went, as did the New Year, time felt like it was flying. Everyone was back at Hogwarts, getting ready for the start of the new term. Y/N getting her lectures and plants ready for her upcoming lessons and Severus getting his lectures and ingredients ready for his upcoming lessons. On top of his lessons he was also doing private occlumency lessons with Harry, trying to get him to close his mind to Voldemort. However, instead, Harry got a look inside of Severus’ memories. Memories that he tended to hide from himself and future wife, memories of his tormentors from Hogwarts.

“Get out,” Severus said lowly after Harry had entered his mind.

“I never knew my dad was that horrible to you Uncle Sev,” Harry admitted.

“Just please get out,” The man practically begged, “I just need a minute, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

So Harry did as his uncle requested, he left the room and gave him the space he needed. The boy waited outside the door until Severus opened it and motioned the boy to come back in. They tried again and again but every time Severus was able to get into Harry’s mind. His memories still filled with his aunt and his friends. Happy memories had overtaken the not so happy ones. Harry had managed to get into Severus’s head once more, this time it was a flash of his Aunt’s smiling face, him as a baby in his aunt’s arms, his aunt hysterically sobbing with a crying Harry in her arms, his aunt as a teenager with a bright smile on her face. 

He wasn’t surprised to see his aunt in Severus’ memory, she was about to get married to the man but he wasn’t expecting to see the memory of his aunt sobbing with him as a baby on his uncle’s doorstep. “Uncle Sev, that memory of Aunt Y/N crying with me as a baby, how old was I?” He asked innocently.

“You were 1, she had a rough day, it was your father’s birthday, the first birthday after his death,” Severus told him, “She came to my house because you wouldn’t stop crying and she couldn’t stop crying. She needed a break for a little while just to breathe so I took you for a bit to give her room.”

“Thank you for taking care of us.”

“Of course, my boy. Off to bed, we’ll continue tomorrow.”

The term passed with little to no issue other than decree after decree, that was until Umbridge caught wind of the DA in the room of requirement. Her and her little gang of snitches found their way to the room, blowing their way through with magic. Every single student in the DA had received an Umbridge special detention. The professors first heard about Albus escaping with Fawkes and then about the mass detention given to the students. 

Her heart raced as she tried to find her nephew after the detention let out, but she couldn’t find him. “Shit!” She cursed aloud before remembering the map. She ran to her office where she kept the map stored after Harry used it to spy on her and Severus. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good!” She rushed out to the map. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That feeling was correct because of her nephew’s name with Hermione, Ron, Umbridge and her inquisitorial squad in the dreaded toad’s office. “Mischief managed.” She shoved the map back into the desk drawer before running to Umbridge’s office. 

She arrived right after Severus did, huffing and puffing as she saw Harry being held still by one of the other students, her mind racing and not registering who it was. “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!” Harry yelled out.

Her heart dropped once more, keeping her emotions in tact but keeping a sharp eye on her nephew. “Harry, you know you are not supposed to come in here! How dare you break into a professor’s office,” She lightly scolded the boy, he knew just by her tone that she was not upset. “Professor, go easy on them please. Harry just had a bad dream is all, they were just trying to make him feel better, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ron and Hermione said in unison.

“If you say so, professor. I will take care of these three.”

Y/N grabbed Severus’ hand, the couple walked out calmly before breaking out into a sprint to get to a piece of parchment, a quill and an owl. “I will head over there, send a message to the order! Be safe, I love you!” She rushed out, planting a firm but sloppy kiss to his lips before running off. Severus quickly wrote off a letter, notifying the order and the ministry of what was happening at the ministry. 

Y/N had found a working floo network, flooing into 12 Grimmauld place. To her surprise, she found Sirius and Remus making out on the couch. She awkwardly cleared her throat alerting the couple to her presence.

“Holy shit!” Sirius shouted in surprise as he threw Remus off of him and onto the floor.

“That hurt! Merlin Sirius! It’s just Y/-Wait what are you doing here? Why do you have that look on your face like something’s wrong?” Remus noticed the expression she was wearing.

“Because I think Voldemort realized the connection and used it against Harry. We need to get to the ministry before the kids get hurt! Sev already sent a letter to the rest of the order, let’s just go please!” She rushed out. The two men scrambled to get up, following her out of the house so they can apparate together. By the time they got there, Harry was surrounded by death eaters, his friends being held by even more death eaters.

“Get away from my nephew you greasy haired fuck!” She shouted at Lucius, blasting a basic cast at him.

She was then targeted by Bellatrix Lestrange, spells getting thrown at her left and right. “Expelliarmus!” She shouted, pointing her wand at the frizzy haired woman. Bellatrix protected herself from the spell before throwing one of her own.

“Crucio!” A green burst of light flew at her, getting reflected by the protego spell. The woman death eater disappeared before apparating onto a rock, throwing the killing curse at Sirius, hitting the man straight in the heart. 

“No!” She screamed, watching as her best friend fell backwards into Veil. She had watched another brother die all over again.

taglist

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[nemiravens]

Day 7: "I'd burn the world for you."

Feat. Jade Leech x Zenon Macabre x Floyd Leech (Disney: Twisted Wonderland)

“You’re dangerous to have around.”

Zenon’s shoulders tensed as a hand wrapped around his throat. He was eventually slammed against a nearby wall, hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

Having the blood of two renowned individuals was never easy. Most especially if the fame is rooted from the underground industry. From crime.

“It won’t be long before this school will get its first murder case,” the student strangling him growled. “Before that happens, you have-”

A foot knocked the words off of the bully’s tongue, sending him toppling to the ground.

“You slippery little…”

The student stood up, but Zenon’s not about to let another hand lay on him. With a calculated swing of his forearm and another arc of his leg, his tormentor laid completely still on the ground.

He crouched down to pick up his stolen notepad before exiting the scene. Just a normal day in Night Raven College as the son of the late Black Cat.

“Little Seaweed!~”

Of course. The day wouldn't end without getting into a sticky situation with Octavinelle’s infamous twins.

Fighting back was proven futile—they’re not as no brainers as most students coming after him. Not even a fluid step out of their reach could save him.

“Don’t rough him up, Floyd,” Jade said. Apparently, his twin had tackled the other male to the ground.

“Oh?” Floyd pressed a finger to the underside of Zenon’s jaw. “Where’d you get that mark, Little Seaweed?”

Zenon instinctively pried the merman’s finger away. He placed a hand above the bruise as he sat up. So much for factitious concern.

“Hey, Jade. I think someone roughed him up first.”

Zenon narrowed his eyes. First? He didn’t appreciate how Floyd worded it out.

“May I?” Jade stepped forward and crouched down to the male’s level. He reached out to place a curled finger beneath his chin to examine the swollen area.

“Care to tell whose fist did this?”

Zenon couldn’t ignore the chills shooting up his spine at the way Jade’s heterochromatic eyes stared straight into his. He turned his head away.

“No?” Jade took note of the way the Pomefiore student made no movement to pull out his notepad and respond.

“But Little Seaweed!” Floyd wailed behind his twin. “How are we supposed to punish the bad guys if you won’t tell us?”

Jade cupped his face. “We’d burn the world for you, Zenon. We promised you that,” he hummed. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

“And we’re starting with whoever harmed you!” the other merman chimed in agreement.

Zenon didn’t recall such a promise though. But it didn't look like he had much of a choice.

Entry for @theocxcanonweek

[echostalker]

Goblet Of Fire Meets Musical

“Let me go! Let me go!”

Harry’s head shot up in alarm at a very familiar voice. It was the voice of someone he hadn’t talk to in three days.

“I bloody swear George!” Four seats down from where he sat, stood Ron Weasley (the very boy…them? Ron once mention that he didn’t feel much like a boy a year ago as they shared the bed in the nurse’s infirmary. Both completely tired and full of trauma that was Harry’s father and friends drama; clutching onto each other over close calls.) struggling against his brothers. Pearly white teeth bared in hot coals of inferno rage. Freckles that Harry love to count during History of Magic disappearing under burgundy red blush. “Fred! Get Off! I’ll tell mum! I will, you’ll see!”

The green eyed teen, now know as the fourth campion in the triwizard tournament, quickly struggled to get up on his feet. Unadulterated panic ran throughout his veins to his weak heart (anything that made his Best Friend cry out send him into a frenzy) as if it was in a race. Gasps of shock and whispers of confusion filled the half full dinner hall. His eyes never leaving the struggling form of the youngest Weasley son even as his large heavy glasses start to slide off his face.

“Come now Ronnnie!” George cackled pulling his little brother closer.

“We just want a bit of a chat.” Fred tittered with what sounded to malice glee to onlookers’ discomfort. “Truly ickle Ronnikins! You act like-”

“We’re going to do something untowards! How cruel.”

“How boarish.”

“Hurts. Right here.”

“In the heart.”

“But being cruel is what he’s good at, ain’t he Gred?” Fred asked in mock jest as he starts to pull out what looked to be one of the twins new product. Ron’s electric blue eyes widened as they start to glow white in fear, his struggling becoming frantic. “Being jealous of our poor little Potter.”

Ron stilled in confusion. Harry watched as pale chapped pink lips mouthing the word ‘jealous’.

“That there, you be right Feorge.” George agreed grabbing his captive brother’s chin tightly. Glee filled his body as it always done at the thought of playing a tiny prank at their bother. “Maybe he can pent a bit by helping us with this new product?”

“Oh yes my dearest twin. What an excellent idea! Come Lil’ickle Ronnikins! Help us test out our new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Party sing n’ dance!”

Ron let out a shout of terror as he renew his tussle to get away from his childhood tormentors. He refuses to be a guinea pig for them once again against his will. Electric blue eyes, nearly white, looked around for help. He could see couple of students from the other schools race out of their seats to get to him from the laughing Slytherin and gossiping Ravenclaw tables. Even Harry (probably realizing that sending the twins at him like a pack of bloodhounds was a bad idea. For being jealous. Jealous! Honestly, where did he get that idea? Jealous.) was staggering their way.

“Hé! Laissez-le partir!” A red wine haired teenager girl from Beauxbaton snarled as she snarled. She whipped out her reddish-gray wand and called out a spell. “Libération!”

Everyone waited with bated breath as pastel red flash of energy shot out of the girl’s wand and hit the closes arm. They watch as Fred’s arm spasm, causing the large truffle size ball to smack into the youngest male Weasley’s cheekbone. Watched as it exploded and cover all three males in a bright nova colored cloud. Red wine haired teen let out a surprised squeal as she clasps her hands to her mouth in shame.

“Ron!” Harry cried out, floundered toward them impulsively. His only thought was to get to his sunset red haired boy. “Ron talk to me!”

Coughing was his only answer.

That was before a gust of heat like an oven pulse out as fire flared out to the ceiling. The students closes to the fire screech out, scrambling to get away. Harry himself took a few steps back, eyes blinking in discomfort. Once his eyes stop watering, he took in the sight of Ron’s hair doing its best to be a forest fire.

(“My family is blessed with fire.” Ron mumbled into his chest, sleep dancing in his voice. The slightly older boy rubbed his face into the other’s over-baggy pajama shirt. “Da’s da was said to be *yawn* from the third branch of the great Bear Queen. Fire has power over us in sum. Drag still hur’ thou.”

“Third branch?” Harry asked with a softest of tone, eyes to heavy with the sandman’s dreamer magic.

“Third child that had child of their own. ‘Tis a pure-blood thingy. Gotta be strong string to magik thou.”

“Hmm…”)

“You…” Ron snarled, hair getting brighter.

“Now Ronnie…” Fred stammered as he took a clumsy step backward, pulling George with him. “Let’s be calm?”

The younger twin squeaked as he clung to the other’s arm. “I thought only Charlie and Percy could do that.”

“Not now Georgie.”

“Ah, right Freddie.”

Soon an eerie sound of music filled the air.

The room started to darkened and chill.

Not a sound came from the only students and staff in the room as Ron took a calculated step towards his beloved brothers. His usually sweet, joyful face was now cold and stone. Eyes no longer glowing white with fear but with hot blue hell fire.

“It seems, difficult brothers will take advantage of my good nature.” Was hissed out, sending a shudder through all. A hand (a bruise starting to form at its wrist) slowly raises towards the cowering six years. “So lets lock them up.”

The fire from the fourth year’s hair slithered down his neck, across his arm and out his fingers like snakes. Zooming to the air as if it was a hawk diving for its prey. Fred and George screamed as the flames became solid, wrapping around them like rope.

“Throw away the key! I bet there’s one on every tree.” Lyrics coldly being song out through Ron’s lips. Allowing everyone to feel the anger, the hatred and the completely done emotion that was swirling like a whorlpool within the singer’s body.

Memorized by what was happening in front of him, Harry jumped as someone grabbed his robes. His head snapped to look behind him to see Hermione watching with horror.

“Ungrateful!” Came tearing out of Fred’s throat.

George followed after; “Hateful!”

“Vile too!” They sang together in stress.

Ron could feel his eyes roll as if he was playing a role in a story that he had no control over. He was enraged, that much was true but to embarrass his brothers like this? Well…he wasn’t the twins themselves. They were the arses and cruel ones in the family. He should know…fourteen years was enough to see that. “The thing they put me through. Break my spirit as they play! Making me into a silly display. Maybe you’d called wholesome play…”

Tears slowly snuck into his eyes.

“But I’ll call it cruel.” A sob threatened to escape from him; “Cruel love.”

Unwilling to breakdown and become even more of a laughing stock, Ron pulled out his own wand. With a shuddering gasp of air, he summoned the rest of the product. He knew that those….he didn’t know what to call them at the moment. Not that it matters to him right now. He was just too tired for this shite.

“I bloody hope you two know how to handle a sodding lawsuit in case some poor sod is allergic.”

Fred shaking his head to clear, he couldn’t help but question his brother. “Whatcha mean?”

Ron shot five looking truffles into the air, exclaiming; “Vehemens Ventus!”

The room bellow as the spell hit the products. A strong gust that could be considered as a tornado ravaged the arena. Smoke covering their eyes like a dense black fog and filled their lungs, suffocating like an uncontrollable forest fire.

“You want to play arseholes?” The cause of the chaos inquired forbidding. Blue flames glare at the trembling forms of the ones that started the path of the chaos causer. “ Hahaha fine. Game on…bitches.”