#the odds don't seem high but i would still be tempted

[lafiametta]

Do you think if I booped Toranaga, he would boop me back?

[harunovella]

just give me a taste ; s.g.

synopsis: a devoted church goer and descendant of powerful vampire hunters, you have caught the attention of the new father of the church: a man you suspect to be the center of all disappearances. little did you know, fate has something brewing for you and the sinful nightwalker...

cw: f!reader, priest/vampire!gojo x vampire hunter!reader, mentions of blood, pet names (little one, little dove, lots of "little"), intercourse within a church, blood drinking (he's a vampire ofc), attempted murder, dub con, basically no prep/unprotected sex, hinted virginity loss, overstim, gojo is a beast and goes at it like one (insatiable much?), somethings in the air and you aren't stopping him?, groping, creampie (kinda), cockwarming, ambiguous ending... 18+ MDNI!

wc: 3k+

an: was supposed to post this on Halloween but oh well here it is now! I love the idea of vampire gojo so here's a little somethin somethin... tbh I just love supernatural/fairytale au's and I am so tempted to do a werewolf!toji one? also, vampire!geto bc tbh he legit looks like one, so... anyway, enjoy! title inspo

There was no coincidence. At least to you there was none. The number of murders rising exactly at the same moment the town's local church gained a new priest. What were the odds?

You were well versed in all that was claimed to be folk lore. You knew of the beasts that lurked within the shadows, freeing themselves from the darkness once the moon was high and bright. Those that preyed on the weak. Those that fed on flesh and blood. Those that gained their youth through their victims' demises. The night walkers.

And you were sure Father Gojo was one.

It wasn't a secret that the creatures of the night existed, it was the matter that many of the towns folk chose to either be ignorant or cower in fear and avoid them at all costs. Curfews existed for a reason, but as the death tolls increased, the hours grew earlier and earlier. What once was at sunset became hours just before sun even reached the horizon.

Fear was rising and you were sure the town's threat was feeding off of that, too. Enjoying the worry and the paranoia of who the suspect was, wrongfully pointing fingers at those who seemed suspicious. It put the town in a state of madness, matters growing worse as more drained bodies were found.

And maybe it was getting to you, too... at least, that's what your friends believed. How was it possible the a priest who walked in the daylight, was a blood sucker?

"No way is Father Gojo a nightwalker," Shoko shook her head. The young brunette stood amongst you and your other, dear friend, Utahime. "How would he be able to step foot into a church without... I don't know, burning?"

Sighing as you peeked over to said church, seeing the white haired man kindly say his goodbyes to various groups of people, you shook your head, "it isn't what fairytales make them out to be. They don't cringe at garlic or fear the cross. They don't burn under the spritz of holy water. They are practically the undead who survive off of the living's blood."

"And you know this because..." Utahime trailed as your eyes widened, quickly looking at the two with an awkward laugh as you waved your hand dismissively.

"Reading! Lots of reading! I've read so many stories from hunters far and wide that spread their knowledge of nightwalkers," you nodded as the two, young women tilted their heads. "It's not like they don't exist..."

"We still have no proof that they do, either. It's all stories," Utahime sighed. "Word of mouth. Written on paper."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Shoko huffed as she crossed her arms.

"You don't want that..." you mumbled, but the two were already walking off, leaving you behind with a subtle frown and a shake of your head.

It wasn't like you could give your identity away. Being a hunter was part of who you were, part of your bloodline. Ancestors who fought off the evil and protected the innocent from them. A woman like you, who went to church, tended to her family and had a social life did not seem like the kind who knew how to precisely take down and slaughter a nightwalker. It was absolutely absurd, something unheard of. A man's job.

At least, that's how the townsfolk perceived it. Only men were capable of protecting others. Them being the larger population of those who saved lives. When, in reality, the women of your family and all those before you were the ones with the higher kill count. In fact, one of the very first nightwalker hunters was a female and she was the woman you descended from.

However, this wasn't an argument you could even have... just something you rambled on in your mind when an ignorant slime of a man claimed only he and his kind could protect the weak and vulnerable—the women and children.

Snapping out of your thoughts as you found yourself staring at the man you believe to be a threat to your town, Father Gojo slightly tilted his head as his eyes from behind his rounded sunglasses landed on you. A bright grin grew on his lips as he lifted and waved a hand at you. Always so charming. Always so charismatic. But you never fell for any of it. Kindly waving back before turning to join your friends, you took in a deep breath and looked up at the sky.

You hoped he wasn't on to you. After all, it had been weeks now since you started watching him, keeping an eye on his way of being. It wasn't something you were new at, you were trained for this. Father Gojo would be another name added to the list of nightwalkers your family took down.

However, unlike the rest, this one was the wisest and most skilled. All those moments you shared with him, whether it be alone or amongst others, he was careful with how he carried himself and how he spoke. He was strategic and you were sure this man was of something greater... something beyond you. How else would he survive under the sun?

Questions lingered in your head about how powerful he could be... but, you wouldn't let that stop you, would you?

It was one of those nights where you stayed in and flipped through the pages of one of your family's journals. There was a faint drizzle outside, the beautiful moon hidden behind dark clouds that rolled into the night sky. You sat comfortably against your window sill, wrapped in a cozy, fleece blanket as your eyes danced along the written text. You were so deep in your reading, recounting stories of powerful night walkers that were taken down—their abilities, their strength... what it took to defeat them—that you flinched at the sound of knocking. With a sigh, you settled the book down, leaving it opened to where you had been reading, before exiting your room and making it to your front door.

"Oh, you're awake!" The older woman before you sighed in relief as your eyebrows furrowed. She was your neighbor, someone you had known for quite some time as she and her 18 year old granddaughter would visit you often with their baked goods and bright auras. "I need your help! My— My grand baby... I— I haven't seen her. I haven't heard from her. I don't know where she is, she never comes home past sundown, she's a smart girl and is always on time! I— I—"

"It's alright," you said as you reached for her hands. "I'll go out and look for her, okay?"

"But—"

"It'll be alright," you nodded, reassuring her. "Remember, my parents taught me self defense. You just go back home and I'll handle the rest, okay?"

Gulping as she nodded, tear stained cheeks and a body covered in a drenched coat, you ushered her to go back home and lock up and to only answer the door to you or her granddaughter should she return. She didn't hesitate to do so, thanking you profusely before rushing back over to her home. You, on the other hand, slid on your coat over your nightwear. It wasn't ideal to go out in your night gown, but you had an inkling as to where the girl might be and you weren't about to waste any time.

The church wasn't too far from your home, making it a rather quick journey over. Something in you, maybe it was your gut instinct or your ancestors whispering to you, knew very will where the 18 year old was. You rushed over, clinging onto your coat as the rain picked up its pace. The moment you stood on the church's steps, the downpour came rushing towards the ground. With a deep breath, you removed your hood and pulled out your stake before quietly pushing the doors open and slipping inside.

The church wasn't large, but it was still decent in size as you began your silent search. It didn't take long for you to find what you needed—evidence. Blotches of blood left a trail along the wooden floors, leading you to where you assumed the victim was. You had hoped and prayed she was okay, but you feared it may have been too late.

You also hated how right you were now that you spotted the man you theorized to be the menace of your town.

Peeking through the cracks of an ajar door, you easily recognize the broad shoulders that were hunched over. The lengthy body that was on its knees as a body laid limp before it. You easily recognized those shoes. They belonged to the young woman. Trailing your eyes down and spotting the blood splatter that coated the ground, the sound of a whimper made you flinched as you accidentally bumped into a frame. The sound of it shifting and scratching the wall caused your eyes to widen. You were ready to hide, but your luck ran thin. Or... perhaps, out.

With eyes wide, wider than they'd ever been, you slowly backed up as the white haired predator stood before you. Porcelain skin with blood staining it, matching his button down shirt. Flecks scattered his hair, dripping lightly from his twisted grin, licking his fangs while lurking forward. You nearly forgot just how fast these monsters were, moving within the blink of an eye.

"It took you long enough, little one," he finally spoke as you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stiffen your shaking hands. You were terrified, to say the least. There was something sinister about him... something you were terrified of. You may not have encountered plenty of his mind, but none made your skin crawl like he did. "I had been eagerly waiting. I tried to be patient, I really did. I knew you sensed it. Your instincts were going berserk, were they not? I had to take it a step forward to finally get you out of hiding...

"You, a one of a kind. I had to come and find you. The church was the perfect fit. Who would have expected the priest to be the murderer? Certainly no one but you, of course," he chuckled as you shivered. "It took longer than I had hoped, finding you was a pain, but to lure you out? Quite the hassle. Of course, that never stopped me. Not when it is you. It was always you."

Bumping into a wall as you let out a faint gasp, you found yourself too deep in shock to even do what you were trained for. You were wasting too much time fighting with your own fear. He was right there, so close, you could've stabbed him... couldn't you? You could've fought him, yet you stood there, almost as if your mind were void of any thought of self defense. Your fight or flight nowhere to be seen. And he caught on to this rather quickly. Probably why it was so easy for him to lift and pin your wrists above your head.

"There is something about hunter blood like yours that is so special," he lowly spoke, leaning in towards your neck as his sharp teeth grazed your skin, "I can smell it. Unlike anything else I have ever encountered... I just need a taste." Looking deeply in your eyes, Gojo furrowed his brows. Charming his victims was easy, why weren't you titling your neck for him?

Almost as if you snapped out of your terror, you lifted your knee and slammed it against his groin. Twisting your wrists out of his grip and shoving him back before tackling him onto the ground, you aimed your stake at his heart, only to stop at the sound of his boisterous laugh.

"I should have known better than to try and charm someone like you!" He shook his head as he lied beneath you, your stake still aimed at his dead heart.

"What do you mean?!" You finally broke your silence, eyebrows narrowed as he continued to laugh, mouth open obnoxiously wide, lips still very much covered in fresh blood. "Tell me!" You demanded, pressing your stake slowly into him.

Licking his lips, he winked, "you will find out."

Gasping as he suddenly thrusted his hips against yours as you had been straddling him, you felt your heart skip a beat as your grip on your stake slipped. "You—!"

"I never wanted to kill you, little dove," he breathed, "but... it seems like you want to kill me. How painful..."

"Why? You seemed perfectly fine killing everyone else," you furrowed your eyebrows, tightening your grip once again on your stake.

Shrugging, Gojo reached up and placed his hand against your cheek as your frown deepened. You weren't sure what he was up to... and why you weren't as disgusted as you should've been by his actions. "You are far too beautiful to have your head ripped out," he chuckled.

Shaking your head as you lifted your stake again to stab him, your wrist was locked into his large hand as he smiled yet again. "Wh—?"

"I know you feel it, too," he softly spoke grin still on his sinful lips. Your eyes zeroed in on his fangs as you felt your heart flutter. "Ah... there it is... Took you long enough, hmm?" Reaching for your other hand, he brought your fingers down towards his lips, grazing your fingertips over his fangs.

Feeling your heart flutter, you bit down and snatched your hand from his grip, squeezing his cheeks with your other as you growled, "why do you want me alive?"

Grinning at your attempt to be threatening, Gojo twirled some of your hair around his finger, "the same reason you seem to fail at killing me. How many attempts has it been? Yet... here I am..." Sighing, he lowered his hand from your hair, down the side of your neck and over your racing heart. "The reason is quite simple, my little mochi... it is our fate."

There was an odd sensation filling you, gravitating you towards him as your weapon so easily slipped from your grip. You weren't sure what it was, or how it happened. Maybe it was when you blinked? Maybe he did something to you? It was impossible, your bloodline was practically immune to the ways of his kind... Yet, here you were, lips hovering his own as you felt him breathe against you.

As if the world stopped spinning, as if time stilled, then snapped so suddenly—you were now beneath him. Lips claiming yours, stealing your breath and burning a fire so bright within you that was beyond frightening.

His large hands cradled your head as his tongue slithered into your mouth, searching and feeling the cavern before meeting your own. The way they moved and pressed and glided against one another before he sucked yours made a wonton moan leave you. A sound so foreign to you, you felt your face burning brighter. Why weren't you stopping him? Why were you reciprocating? And why were you enjoying it so much? Was it true... that it was fate?

Caressing your body with one hand as his other held the back of your head, he gave one of your breasts a rough squeeze before he parted from you. Sitting on his heels as he watched your hooded eyes lazily focus on him, he gave you a hungry grin as he undid his belt and lowered his pants, feeling himself throb in anticipation. Palming himself and letting out and deep moan, he lifted and parted your knees before bunching up your nightgown at your waist, exposing your pristine white panties that had a very obvious wet patch, beckoning him.

Caressing your clothed cunt as he shifted his eyes to meet yours, listening to your sweet sounds, he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against yours before whispering in your ear, "I am going to fuck you so deeply, little hunter, that you won't be able to hunt ever again."

Shivering at his sultry words, you felt him slip off your panties before he aligned himself with your entrance, pushing into you without a warning and not seeming to care if there was resistance and that you cried out. Whether it was pain or pleasure, the sound shot right through him, making him push deeply into you before bottoming out. For a moment he stilled—not for you but selfishly for himself over how tight you were. Squeezing him to the point his breathing faltered and growls left him.

Then your eyes shot open as he began to fuck you. Thrusting in and out, nearly pulling all the way out before fucking back into you at an animalistic pace. Your shared moans echoed across the church, a sinful sound for such a holy structure. Your cheeks stained with tears as you clutched onto his arms, nails digging into his skin as he roughly held your hips. His fingertips were already leaving bruises in his wake as you were sure he was going to destroy your cervix, split you in two, and break you like the fragile doll you were.

There was a sort of haze amongst the two of you where you saw nothing but each other, wanting nothing but each other. A sensation like no other. It was dangerously blinding, but you didn't know better, the lust was overbearing just like the slamming of his hips. He fucked you like he hated you. He fucked you like he always wanted you. You were seeing stars, your breath getting caught, your chest heaving. Your mouth was open and you were panting like an animal, unable to properly breathe as your eyes practically crossed. The sight for him only made him throw his head back in laughter, incoherent words leaving his mouth that you couldn't quite comprehend. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to matter as you milked him and came violently. Your whole body trembled, you swore you were seeing white as you nearly suffocated yourself.

Then you found yourself on all fours as he fucked you again. Again and again until you came. Until you were seeing stars all over again. Until your body became nothing but jelly. You were long gone, your head buzzing, your body aching and drenched in sweat. Every time you tried to speak, your brain short circuited.

Now riding him as you dug your nails into his shoulders, tearing holes into his shirt, Gojo's hips lifted and met your own as you cried out. His hand slipping between the two of you, rubbing tight circles and beckoning your orgasm. He didn't care if you were overstimulated, didn't care if he could break you in any given second with his inhuman speed and strength, he just couldn't get enough. And neither could you.

It all blurred, how many times had you come? You were lying beneath him, legs pressed to your shoulders as he practically folded you and continued to ravage you. You were no longer coherent, your soul left your body long ago, you were just a vessel at this point. Practically lifeless, fucked out, eyes rolled back. You could hardly move, could barely lift a finger as Gojo sat up and turned you, sitting you on his cock and fucking into you again and again. You had become his fuck toy, you were brainless, hardly acknowledging anything that was said, your whines coming out weak as your pleas came out as gentle whimpers.

Your head fell back to his shoulder as he thrusted into you, grabbing a fistful of your hair in one hand to tilt your head as his other reached between your thighs and toyed with your clit. Pinching and circling as his fangs sunk into your neck. Your blood came gushing forward as you came all over him, squirting and letting out a high shriek of ecstasy as he lapped up your blood. Your heart raced faster than humanly possible, your head spun and your body shook so violently, you weakly clung onto his thighs.

Pulling away with a satisfied smile as he licked his lips, Gojo moved a hand to hold your chin as he whispered in your ear, "have you not figured it out yet? Or maybe I fucked you too good for you to even put two and two together... There is a reason why neither of us can kill one another. Why we are so drawn to each other," he hummed, licking just beneath your ear as he gave you a few languid thrusts, spilling his seed as deeply as possible into you. Groaning in your ear as he kept himself plugged in you, he then chuckled, "you and I are soulmates."

an: feelin real bad for the neighbors granddaughter bc these two are at it like rabbits while she's bleeding to death in the room... oops... anyway, thanks for reading!

[alien-hybreed]

The Abduction

Abigail's night is ruined. She thought tonight might finally be the night. She'd lined up a cute date at a Halloween party only to have her crush ditch her for another woman. Now she's walking home alone.

High above, it watches. The last of it’s kind. Cold. Alone. In her, it sees a kindred spirit, a future for its kind. Once it brings her on board the mothership, neither of them will be truly alone ever again...

The cold night air felt like it was biting into Abigail's exposed arms and legs as she solemnly strode along the dimly lit path. She sniffled, brushing her auburn hair away from her face as tears continued to stream down her face. She supposed this was how god might be punishing her for the indecency she'd been tempted into.

She hadn't expected Luke to take her up on the offer of being her date to the Halloween party, so she'd tried extra hard to look good for him. Too hard it had seemed. Was the sexy catholic school girl costume really such an affront to her beliefs that she'd deserved to be not only ignored, but ultimately ditched in favor of some busty, blonde, little bimbo? Ultimately the date had been a total disaster.

Abigail didn’t care how many people had stared when she cried at the sight of Luke and the other woman drunkenly making out in the booth. She'd high-tailed it straight out of there without even stopping to collect her coat. Admittedly, she did regret leaving that behind.

Grief-stricken, she had no idea where to go or what to do. She'd never felt so alone. She didn't want to go home but the thought of being around people made her uncomfortable and it was too late to seek refuge at her church. Though she'd have been too ashamed to go, were that even an option. Pausing to look up at the night sky, she mumbled a desperate plea;

“oh dear god, take away from here. Just let me start over. Let me be better.”

As if in reply to her prayer, she could smell a faint odour on the air, acrid and burnt like an overheating electronic device. The air around her seemed to shimmer like a heat haze before a flash of blinding white light forced her eyes shut. Abigail felt like in that instant she was on the sharpest drop of a rollercoaster. Weightless, her stomach catching in her mouth. And just like that, Abigail was there one moment, gone the next.

* * *

Abigail came to with a start, sprawled on a plain, gunmetal surface. Everything around her was pitch black. She hadn't partaken alcohol, had someone roofied her punch? Shivering, she picked herself up as a thick rivulet of clear slime dripped on her from overhead.

“ew, ew, ew!” she squeaked, frantically swiping at the trickle of slime as it ran down her neck and under her collar. It was freezing cold, thick and gunky as it slid down her back. A couple more droplets of the same fluid pattered down around her, but she couldn’t see anything but blackness when she looked up.

She thought that was odd, the floor was too smooth, too flawless for this to be a cave of any sort. Which means someone had to have made it…

“hello!? If this is someone's idea of a joke, congratulations, I'm real scared” she shouted to no avail. Nothing, not even an echo

“this isn't funny anymore, just let me out” still nothing. Her legs knocked together as she shivered. Unsurprisingly, her knee high socks and ridiculously short, tartan mini skirt did very little to keep her warm. Serves me right for not dressing up as a sexy cop or lumberjack, literally anything with pants would have been better, she thought. Also nowhere near as blasphemous. Luke was good looking but Abigail was really kicking herself for trying so hard to pander to his silly preferences.

“I just don't wanna be alone…” she murmured to herself. Much to her shock, something seemed to reply, like her own words being played backwards and slowed down.

“…who-who…. Who's there!?” the same sound as before, repeating itself was her only reply. Nervously Abigail began backing up. She shrieked as another strand of slime dripped down on her, soaking into her sleeve and bringing her arm out in goosebumps.

“this isn't funny, seriously just…” her voice trailed off as a low rumble above made her look up. The equivalent of a full drinking glass of slime dropped on her face with a sickening plop. She tried to shriek again but the slime was so thick she had to tear it away from her mouth just to breath.

She gasped for air as she desperately tried to wipe the rest of the strange liquid from her face. Just a little of it had touched her lip, it was surprisingly not unpleasant which was more than she could say for the rest of this experience.

“this is so messed up, please someone? Anyone!” she cried, choking back tears as her fear continued to grow. Abigail could hear something large and wet shifting in the darkness. As it did, a few more droplets of slime dropped on and around her. Abigail whimpered as she clawed at her hair, now wet and matted, desperately trying to clear the gunk from it.

So distracted by the gunk, she didn’t notice a thin, purple tendril snaking it's way towards her from out of the dark until she felt the sticky, soft, warmth of it's flesh on her leg as it coiled around her leg.

“Christ!” She screamed, stumbling backwards, hyperventilating as she shook her leg to try and shake the thing free. Feeling the hard surface of a wall behind her, Abigail panicked as she realized she was now stuck between a hard place and whatever this was.

The tendril was slithering up her thigh, tugging at her as it did so. She shrieked and screamed as she swatted at the appendage, trying to prise it off her or slow it somehow. Everywhere her skin was touched by it's slime now felt cold and tingled with the most peculiar numbing sensation. Only when the tentacle had enough of her leg in it's grip to anchor her in place did it finally stop, the tip hovering ominously an inch away from her miniskirt.

“oh no, oh nononono this can't be happening…” she blurted as she frantically looked around for any way out or a tool she could use to fend off the thing. Instead the wall seemed to just curve away into the darkness on either side. That would make this some sort of circle or chamber… or pit… was this hell? Surely not. Despite her desperation to date Luke, she hadn’t done anything? Thought about it and chastised herself maybe but nothing to warrant being damned to hell surely.

That’s when she noticed a surprising sensation in her trapped leg. The tentacle seemed to be massaging it. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down to see it expertly working her calf muscles.

“that’s… oh that's… good?” she stammered, laughing a little hysterically at how absurd this was. A thin trickle of slime dripped on her shoulder and into her collar but she paid it no heed, as she was so focused on the motion of the tentacle on her leg. It's warmth was somewhat welcome given how painfully cold she'd been.

“You're uh… not so bad… right?” she murmured, slowly moving her hand towards it. Indifferent to the hand hovering over it, the tentacle kept constricting and releasing. Slowly, Abigail rested her hand on it and gently gripped it's tip. It almost tickled as it squirmed in the palm of her hand, smearing sticky strands of slime all over it. But it was so warm and the bones in her fingers had been so cold…

Abigail breathed deeply a few times and began to relax. This was beyond weird but at least she seemed safe or in no immediate danger. Briefly releasing her hold on the tentacle, she held her hand up close to her face to get a look at the white, translucent goop. As she looked closely at it dripping from her hand, she couldn't stop thinking about how it tasted before. How pleasant it was as it tingled on the edge of her lip. Slowly leaning closer, she carefully licked at the tip of her forefinger. How strange, it was salty and sweet at the same time, it's texture thick and rich, yet it dissolved in her mouth like it was nothing.

She stared at her hand for a moment, wrestling with the urge to lick it clean when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Three more tentacles hovering in the dark, like snakes ready to strike.

“um… hi?” she offered weakly, nerves and an escalating sense of dread creeping back into her mind. At no point did the tentacle on her leg stop massaging and that was proving to be quite a distraction. Abigail didn't even notice she'd put her hand back on it.

“well this, sure has been a thing” she stammered, trying not to smile at how good her leg was feeling. The tendrils snaked their way through the air towards her as the wet shifting sound came again, sounding closer this time.

“but y'know I really ought to be on my way now…” her voice trailed off as the tendrils drew close enough to touch her and dozens more seemed to be writhing in the dark. One of the three foremost tentacles began snaking it's way around Abigail's other leg, the sudden rush of cold numbness followed by the sticky warmth made her exhale sharply.

“ok um, please, I really should…” she began to stammer as the other two tendrils moved for her miniskirt

“whoa no that… that is not happening” she stuttered, blushing as she fought to hold her miniskirt down with her hands, unintentionally smearing the slime on her hand across her inner thigh. As a couple more tentacles snaked through the air towards her, Abigail’s lips quivered from both fear and impulsive need to taste the slime again. The tendrils seemed to be aware of this, moving closer and closer towards her face, almost as if to tease her. Abigail turned her head away and closed her eyes, silently praying for the tentacles to leave her be. To cease this... temptation.

She shuddered as she felt a large glob of slime land squarely on her collarbone and dribble down the curvature of her breasts into her cleavage. Her body was numb and tingling all over, save for where the warm tentacles massaged her legs. She could feel her knees beginning to buckle as she replayed the memory of tasting the slime on her finger over and over.

Anxiously, she bit at her lip as she felt a tentacle brushing against her cheek while another lightly stroked at her neck. The sound of something enormous drawing close with a series of wet smacking, plopping sounds forced Abigail to open her eyes. The sound had made her think of an enormous bag of sausages spilling open and much to her horror, it didn't look that far from it.

Dozens, hundreds of bright purple tentacles of varying sizes were unfurling, like a horde of snakes dispersing. Nestled at the heart of the mass was some sort of body or head tentacle that they all seemed to join to. Slowly, the tentacle peeled open like a banana, revealing a bright green interior full of smaller green tentacles that writhed from it's center.

Amongst them was a particularly bulbous purple tentacle that seemed to have eight amber eyes, four in a diamond pattern on either side of it. Abigail screamed as loud as she could, the tentacles filling the air around her. The bulbous purple tentacle lashing across her like a giant tongue licking at her. Thick ropes of slime cascaded over and around her as Abigail’s scream became a silent shriek. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as purple tendrils stroked at her face and chest. More snaked their way around her legs, eagerly hovering below her miniskirt.

Slowly, she began to gasp shallow breaths, her pupils dilating to tiny pinpricks as the slime saturated her clothing and was rapidly absorbed into her skin. The powerful aphrodisiac and stimulants in the slime had been gradually influencing her earlier, but now her nervous system was all but bursting with the sudden sensory overload.

The addictive quality of the slime had an almost immediate effect as the young woman took her hands from her miniskirt and began clawing at her blouse, yearning to feel the creature's slime against as much of her bare skin as possible. The buttons on her blouse either slid free or popped off in her frenzy, Abigail had no concept of patience or care in that moment. She wasn't alone and she craved intimacy.

She giggled playfully as the large purple tentacle slid up her belly, between the exquisite cleavage formed by her black lace bra and against her cheek. As it snaked past her face, she eagerly licked at it's flanks, taking in mouthfuls of the arousing slime. She liked feeling like this, she wanted more.

She felt the giant tentacle pull away while the tendrils at her waist tore her miniskirt from her, plucking off her black g-string with a snap. Abigail ripped at her bra until the straps and fasteners gave way. She flung it aside before pressing herself against the wall, throwing her head back and arching her spine to present her breasts to the creature.

“can't be alone. Don't leave me, don’t stop” she slurred. As if on cue, the bulbous tentacle spewed forth a torrent of slime, splattering across Abigail's chest and oozing over her toned stomach and down her legs. Gasping and gleefully chuckling, she leaned forward to let the slime drench her face and pour into her mouth before leaning back to gulp at the delicious juices.

Drenched head to toe in a thick layer of the white slime, Abigail began running her hands up and down her body, kneading and pulling at her tits, occasionally stopping to caress and squeeze the tentacles that writhed over and around her. Slowly, the tentacle nearest her vagina opened like a flower, allowing a smaller, green, incredibly phallic tentacle to emerge and begin grinding against her slit.

Abigail's legs finally buckled, as she slumped onto the tentacle. She virtually impaled herself on it as it punched deep into her vagina. As she did, tentacles coiled around her arms to hold het up. Another set of tentacles coiled around her tits, massaging them with the same expertise as the earlier motions on her legs.

Abigail groaned unintelligibly as her head lolled from side to side. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head when another phallic tentacle slithered through her anus while a trio of tentacles ending in bright green suckers clamped over her nipples and clit. Driven by pure instinct, she rolled her hips back and forth, working the tentacles in her pussy and ass to and fro, creating a wondrous sensation.

This must be heaven, thought her intoxicated brain. Nothing else could be so sublime or euphoric. Hungrily, her jaw hung agape, trying to mouth wordlessly 'please' over and over. As if in response to her plea, the giant purple tentacle split open and engulfed her face.

Abigail moaned with delight as she felt something slither into her mouth and begin to pump more of the delicious slime. She gurgled and slurped as more and more of the liquid flowed into her body, permeating every fibre of her being. She shuddered as her body was wracked by it's first ever orgasm.

But at no point did the tentacles even so much as pause or slow their pace. Utterly relentless in their work, they kept massaging, sucking and fucking every inch of her. Abigail groaned repeatedly as her body relaxed into their grip, the tentacles in her mouth, pussy and ass growing thicker, pushing deeper, endlessly pumping slime into her. She writhed and tried to squeal as another orgasm rocked her body from head to toe.

Yet, the tentacles kept going. Abigail didn’t care how much of her own drool dripped from her mouth or the copious amounts of slime and vaginal discharge that rained down from her pussy as a third orgasm blew her mind and made her toes curl.

Intoxicated and overstimulated beyond being able to think or move, she didn't notice the creature drag her into the centre of the room. Nor did she notice how her body hung limp in it's grasp as it propped her up in it's center, occasionally jerking and twitching as another orgasm rolled through her. All that mattered was the next rush of erotic bliss, all other sensations might as well not exist.

Abigail barely even felt the green tentacles swarming around her, gripping her tightly as the creature's main body seemed to be folding shut around her. Eventually the purple tentacles wrapped around it's body and grew tighter and tighter. Abigail didn't care, encased in slime and silky flesh that clung to her tentacle-wrapped figure, the only thing she felt was the approach and arrival of the next orgasm.

Outside, the slime encasing each tentacle hardened, turning the creature into a giant cocoon for Abigail.

* * *

She dreamed of bright lights and other worlds. She dreamed of others, other tentacle beasts, roaming the cosmos, alone in their vessels. One by one, she felt their light darken and disappear until it was just her. Cold. Alone. Drifting. Except that wasn't her, Abigail knew this wasn’t her but it all felt so real.

Periodically she stirred from her surreal dreams to find herself floating in darkness, the sensation of warm flesh enveloping her completely. An orgasm would begin to build in her loins as the tentacles in her pulsed in time with her own heartbeat. She struggled to no avail as her arousal peaked, the tentacles pumping more slime into her that nudged her back into unconscious bliss.

As she slumbered, she would dream of strange languages, biology beyond human understanding. More and more frequently, she dreamed of herself as the tentacle creature. Sometimes she dreamed she was searching for a body she could adapt to become her vessel on the little blue world below. She was so alone, she needed to not be alone.

As she dreamed, her tentacles tightened around her, hugging her body as firmly as she could. She dreamed she was the human chosen for it's compatibility and then she would dream she was herself again, inspecting the human's form as she prepared to merge with it.

Again she would awake, her body aching as it grew accustomed to having bones. Her muscles ached as they stretched and grew. Her skin felt sore where her old form had fused to it's human body. Again, when it became too much, her consciousness would slip away and allow her to sleep off her growing pains…

* * *

The cocoon began to crack open, thick rivulets of white slime oozing from the breach in it's side. Several tentacle tips pushed at the crack, splitting it open and widening it until the body of a young woman slid free amidst a gush of slime.

Her purple flesh glistened in the low light as the slime slowly slid from her. Her head was crowned with a mass of tentacles in place of her hair, with dozens of larger, thicker tentacles extending from her shoulders. Slowly the tentacles began to twitch then wriggle, slithering back and forth like a nest of snakes. Her slender arms and legs slowly pulled her upright, her eight amber eyes darting around the control room of her spaceship.

Incredible, she thought. It felt so bizarre, yet so familiar to have arms and legs but equally so to have tentacles so suddenly.

She was neither Abigail or the pilot. She was now both. Both minds and bodies, merged flawlessly into a singular entity with the memories and personality of both. It was like everything until now had been a dream and only now was she truly awake for the first time.

She reached out with a tentacle and spoke the operation command. Sensing her DNA and the authority that came with it, the ship beeped in response. Immediately, three dimensional lights appeared in the air before her. Graphs and images showing a microscopic view of her cell structure told her the merging was successful beyond her initial hopes. Her new body was extraordinarily fertile and ready to begin repopulating her species.

Smiling wryly as she reviewed an assessment of viable human contributors. She remembered enough of Abigail's past life to see the irony in this. Chuckling to herself, she primed the teleporter and prepared to reacquaint herself with a very specific male…

* * *

She could hear the male and female grunting and moaning in the bedroom next to the kitchen the moment she appeared in a bright flash of light. Luke and his mate.

How oddly fortunate that his DNA would be an optimal match with her own. Abigail would have been mortified by what she was about to interrupt and what she would do to them. But she wasn't Abigail anymore. Her body was already secreting it's slimy coating as the thrill of seizing Luke and using him stirred her arousal.

Her tentacles twitched with excitement as she flung the bedroom door open. They were both naked, the other woman was riding Luke in a reverse cowgirl position while he gripped her ass and stared at the way his cock plunged in and out of her sopping wet pussy.

Before either of them could react, their intruder's tentacles lashed out, wrapping around both of the hapless humans. Abigail ripped the woman free, wrapping tentacles around her arms and legs to hold her at the edge of the bed.

“wait your turnnn” she hissed at her before stuffing a tentacle into the woman's mouth while smearing a handful of slime across Luke's face. Clambering atop him in a reverse cowgirl position of her own. Luke's eyes rolled as the slime immediately took a hold of him.

Now that she was part human, Abigail's slime was refined, perfectly adapted to work on humans. Her tentacles slithered around Luke's cock and steered it into her eagerly awaiting pussy. Abigail hissed and slithered her tentacles all up and over his body as she gyrated her hips against his, he bucked up to meet her and match her pace. His body was limp save for his waist and cock which possessed an unnatural vigor thanks to Abigail's slime.

“See, bitch. He's mine” groaned Abigail, her eyes boring into the other woman's. She squealed and kicked, making Abigail chuckle. Abigail squeezed her own tits and caressed her stomach and thighs with her hands as if to mock the woman's earlier movements.

“how's that huh? How do you like it now huh?” she hissed, relishing the woman's outrage as she struggled against her tentacle bindings.

“oh no, that's rhetorical, dear. You'll enjoy this, just like him” teased Abigail as the tentacle she'd stuffed in the woman's mouth began dribbling slime into her mouth. Abigail chuckled as her competitor slackened before eventually to sucking at the tentacle.

Beneath her, Luke's cock and balls had started to swell and take on a purplish tinge as the slime altered his reproductive organs to suit Abigail's needs. Abigail gasped as she felt the warm splash of Luke's cum surging into her womb.

For a solid minute, Luke kept cumming, pumping copious amounts of seed into her. Abigail pulled the woman close, panting as she felt her body taking Luke's seed and processing it. Instinct was guiding her as she felt a tentacle extend from between her shoulders and wriggle into the woman's pussy.

The blonde gagged on the tentacle in her mouth as she tried to cry out. Abigail slid her tentacles free and embraced the woman. Her tentacle sliding back and forth in the woman's throbbing pussy. The woman hugged her tightly, stroking Abigail's tits and ass as she continued to milk Luke's cock.

“now it's your turn” chuckled Abigail as her tentacle began pumping slime into the woman's womb. She cried out, hugging Abigail tightly as thick bulges worked through the tentacle and into her. Each bulge was a rapidly gestating egg, created by Luke's altered seed, fertilizing the hundreds of mutated ovum produced in Abigail's womb.

The blonde looked at Abigail with a vacant, giddy expression, her mind utterly crushed by Abigail's secretions and actions.

“that's what you get for not having any protection” giggled Abigail as she withdrew her ovipositor tentacle from the woman and stood up. Luke's cock slid free of her with a wet flop.

Standing on the bed over him, Abigail pulled him up with her tentacles and held him close to her while she watched the woman's body rapidly swelling with the dozens of hybrid offspring gestating within. Satisfied with her work, Abigail signaled the mothership to teleport the three of them back aboard.

Now, that she knew the breeding process worked, she intended to make plenty of use of Luke's manhood. Given the how unlikely it was that she could re-use the woman as a surrogate for her young, Abigail was already shortlisting candidates for her next batches.

Yes, there were no shortage of women she'd relish inflicting that upon. She would teach them all a lesson. The bright light flashed and Luke, his fling and Abigail vanished into the night...

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Is Confronted (Part 39)

The presence of a Harbinger in the City rightfully puts the Manager on edge. The call for a Global Meeting is put on ice temporarily, even though the news coming from New York begins to worsen.

John Wick - missing. The Bowery King - dethroned and presumably dead. And Winston Scott and the Hotel - in the High Table's crosshairs for daring to stand against them.

It seems Casablanca has not been spared either, though the High Table has not come for Sofia Al-azwar's head yet.

"We must be careful not to draw their attention," the Manager whispers to you one morning as you prepare the missives to be sent out. "But we can only wait so long."

You look at the missives, penned in your hand and looking like ordinary accounts and invoices. Forged, of course, to look nothing like a call for a Global Meeting. You have become very good at that, despite how long it takes you to make each one, despite the pain in your hands afterwards that makes it hard to even twitch your fingers.

"Is a distraction needed?" you ask her, still folding the letters into their envelopes.

She looks at you. At first with curiosity, then with a knowing smile. "The Monster Family."

You press aching fingers to the lip of the envelope, sealing it. "The Carta have made themselves a very tempting target." You're sure neither Toriel nor her former husband have forgotten them, least of all Sans.

"So they have," the Manager purrs, leaning close to gather the missives that you've already folded and sealed. "I think you'll find a convenient messenger to pass that message on, yes?"

A pause. You look at her dead in the eyes as you hand the last envelope to her. "If you're referring to Sans--"

She titters behind the missives, waving them to fan her face. "Why! That your mind turns immediately to him is rather interesting, my Heart~"

Oh, the urge to throw your hands in the air is great.

"But no." She spares you the indignity of such a gesture. "I think that's Mister Papyrus coming up the stairs."

What. You step away from her desk to peer out the window, reflexively standing so you wouldn't be seen from outside. Indeed, that's the Great and Terrible Papyrus taking the front steps in long, easy strides, his car being driven away by a valet. The scowl fixed upon his face doesn't look any different than usual, but there's just something in the way that he's moving that seems...out of place.

"Shall I go greet him, ma'am?"

She smiles at you. You don't like that smile. Like she knows something you don't. "You definitely should," she purrs, neatening the envelopes in her hand. "Leave these to me, my Heart. Go enjoy yourself."

What.

You narrow your eyes at her, only to have her smile innocently at you. Fine. With an incline of your head, you stride out of her office and make it down to the lobby. You'll find out soon enough.

At your counter, a receptionist is busy conversing with a scowling Papyrus.

"I'm looking for the Concierge," he growls down at your relief receptionist, who does a good job of remaining stalwart in the face of his fanged scowl.

"The Concierge is currently away, sir. If you would make yourself comfortable, I will alert the Concierge to your presence."

"No need," you say evenly as you round the corner. Papyrus seems to brighten up a little as you come into view, or as far as he can anyway, considering the way his face is permanently fixed into a glower. "Mister Papyrus, how can I help?"

Your relief receptionist slinks away the moment you give them the go ahead. You imagine dealing with an ornery Papyrus wouldn't be a fun experience.

The towering skeleton monster glares down at you, his hands folded behind his back. "I wish to speak to you."

You blink up at him.

"Alone."

You look around. For the time of day, the lobby is practically empty save for a bellboy carting some luggage around.

Papyrus sighs in aggravation. "In private," he bites out.

Well, isn't that odd. You tilt your head as best you can, considering that you're looking up at the tall man. "Certainly." The Lounge would be a good place. "If you would follow me."

The Lounge hasn't changed from the last time you led a skeleton monster here. It hasn't been that long, perhaps a few months, but it seems little in the grand scheme of things. Particularly for you, when the days seem to meld into one another.

Papyrus drifts to the other side of the room as you close the doors behind you to ensure no sound escapes. By habit alone, you move behind the counter of the little bar, hands clasped in front of your belly. "Would you like a drink, Mister Papyrus?"

The towering skeleton stops. Spins around on his heel. And bites out, "I SAW WHAT YOU DID WITH MY LAZY, GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER."

A blink. A slow tilt of your head. "Oh?" The memory of that night springs to mind. The smell of damp asphalt along with cherry smoke and mustard, the heavy taste of magic. A red glow bouncing off a brick wall marred by claw marks. Soft moans and a loud caterwaul, a baritone voice begging you.

Papyrus pauses for a moment. Waiting for something.

You don't give it to him.

He grits his teeth and paces like a caged tiger. "SAY SOMETHING."

Hmm. "And I saw you."

The bright crimson glow of magic engulfs Papyrus' entire angular face. In perhaps a very uncharacteristic display of emotion, Papyrus sputters and throws his head back in shock at your words. "YOU--HOW DID YOU--"

Did he not notice you looking at him at the very end? You distinctly recall turning your head to facilitate that. "Your blush was very...bright." Something else was very bright, too.

Papyrus staggers back into the wall, clutching at his chest like it were pearls. "THAT IS--" Then he coughs, clears his throat, and rallies himself. Or tries to. The blush on his face is still bright as ever. "IT IS COMPLETELY...COMPLETELY..." Oh, the blush seems to grow brighter, his eye lights going slightly fuzzy around the edges. "SALACIOUS. PERVERTED. VULGAR. UTTERLY SHAMELESS--IN A DIRTY, FILTHY ALLEY OF ALL PLACES--"

A smug smile tugs at the corner of your lips and sheer will keeps them down to a polite one instead. But the warming of your dead, even eyes cannot be missed. "And yet, you were watching for quite a while. Weren't you, Mister Papyrus?"

The little 'eep' that comes out from him shouldn't be as adorable as it is. Tall, built, menacing Papyrus turned into this outraged, scandalised man who has to lean against the wall to stop himself from...you don't really know what. But he does have his back pressed against the wall, his skeletal hand clutching at his vest.

You tilt your head to the side. "Was it not you?"

Now you've got him backed into a corner. As far as you know, Papyrus isn't the sort of man to lie. Or enjoy lying.

So he just sputters and waves his hands around. Eventually, he growls and clenches his fists, snarling, "FINE. IT WAS ME. THERE, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?!"

Hmm, that's a battle won.

"I want to know why you stayed," you say evenly, taking a bottle of Papyrus's favourite drink from the shelf and pouring him a glass. "Why you watched."

Oh, there goes a supernova of a blush on his face again. You let forth a little chuckle and slide the glass forward, motioning with a gloved hand to the seat before you. "Mister Papyrus. Have a seat."

Like a dejected puppy, the skeleton monster pushes off the wall and stomps over to the barstool in front of you. He sits as petulantly as one could, slamming his fists on either side of the offered drink. The glower on his face is only eclipsed by the furious blush turning his skull into a red light bulb. And is that--ah, he sits too quickly for you to verify that it is indeed the beginnings of a tent in his trousers.

"Have a sip," you start, waving to the glass.

Though he glares at you, Papyrus nevertheless takes the glass in his hand and raises it to his fanged maw.

Oh, this is going to be interesting. Very interesting indeed.

[landboundstar]

Day Pass: Mad Hatter

"Thank you, Edward. This is very nice of you."

I put a hand on top of my nervous friend's hand to stop his babbling.

"Jervis, it is not a problem to take you out for lunch. Here we are."

Jervis would have been fine getting a drive-through at McDonald's, but I wasn't. And I wasn't about to treat one of the first people that I had empathized with in my therapy group like he wasn't worth something special.

Pulling into a parking spot beside the restaurant, I opened Jervis's door and guided him to our table, a hand at his back and thought about how we had met.

Therapy in Arkham Asylum is a hit or miss affair. It doesn't do to get too attached to one therapist. They frequently change therapists to avoid that and its resulting…complications. And the turnover rate with good therapists is ridiculously high. Some, I thought sourly, I only wished had a high turnover rate. After years of Dr. Crane and Dr. Strange failing to get the desired results from me as a patient, Dr. Arkham himself decided to see what was wrong with my surly ass. Years of "therapy" with Crane's drug enhanced exposure therapy to treat my trauma and Strange's odd biofeedback that only seemed to worsen my obsessiveness had me being an extremely paranoid boy with some paredolia on the side of my other issues. Meeting with the good doctor for therapy hadn't been a high point in my plans. But, well, as a patient in Arkham I hadn't had much of a choice. So, imagine my surprise to find a good old fashioned group therapy session with no terror or mindfuckery. And that was where I met Jervis. Not quite a case of like minds meeting, but what I imagine what it must feel like for a piano virtuoso to meet an expert sculptor. Just an admiration and appreciation for the other person's skills.

We had been friends ever since.

What? You expected me to be humble? I was mentally unstable, not mentally deficient. And for all his quiet self-effacing tendencies, once Jervis started talking about his technical expertise or any of his passionate interests, there was a brilliant mind waiting to be discovered. 

Disturbed, obsessive, socially awkward, but brilliant.

Jervis fidgeted with his light hair, looking uncomfortable in the borrowed button up and dress pants from the asylum laundry. I noticed they had not given him a hat. Part of me hurt for my friend, knowing he identified so much with his accessory. And the rest of me realized the wisdom of not overly indulging his fixation, for everybody's well being. Especially Jervis himself.

But, like with my puzzle ring, sometimes it was important to scratch that itch. To find ways of being yourself without giving in to the madness.

Like a tea party, perhaps?

But not the crumpets and tea cake sort. That might be a little too tempting for Jervis. But I thought this restaurant might just do the trick.

"Do you want to order, or do you want me to?" I asked, remembering just how overwhelming simple decisions could be sometimes.

"If you don't mind. Please." Jervis said.

The waiter came over with a smile. "Welcome to Qnia. Are you ready to order?"

"We are. Can we get two orders of the moroccan mint tea, and then we are splitting an order of chicken tagine with couscous, zaalouk on the side. And two pistachio croissants to finish the meal."

"Of course. I'll bring your tea out in just a minute."

"Tea?" Jervis perked, a slightly too enthusiastic gleam in his eyes.

"Yes, it should go very nicely with the food." I told him.

The food came promptly, and we talked about music, art, and science rather than books or movies. 

I paid the check as we finished the last of our dessert, listening to Jervis tell me about a recent scientific study about using specific tones and frequencies to help subliminally curb addictions and its results. He still was his meek, polite self, but with a confidence he normally only got when fully delusional.

As I pulled out to drive back, I made a mental note of the restaurant.

It had been a lovely place to treat Jervis to a tea party. We would have to do it again.

[an-otterly-adorable-being]

Well, y'all told me I should post my random little snippets, so here's one of em. I didn't really know how to end it but yeah. Enjoy!

Untitled Alastor Snippet

"...I'm sorry?"

"Ohoho, you heard me Alastor, I've got all your little contracts now, took control of 'em because you couldn't manage them yourself."

"Oh, Vox, you seem to be confused. See, if you had done that, I'd turn you into a pile of circuits underneath my heel."

"Feel free to, it won't bring them back to you."

"You little-"

"If you'll excuse me, I have actually important things to do today. But hey, Alastor, guess what."

"...What?"

"I win."

     Vox's voice cut out, leaving only static to fill the space. Alastor stood in his tower overlooking Pentagram City, at the Vs' tower glimmering in the distance, pondering this development. Vox had told him that all his owned souls belonged to that overrated, pompous triumvirate. Vox wouldn't say exactly how, some loophole he found in Al's contracts. But that was impossible, they were airtight, right? What could Vox, that conniving snake, done to make that happen. Alastor tried to summon his contracts but he couldn't. Vox was telling the truth. No, there had to be something Alastor could do, something he could-

"Alastor, behind you."

     Alastor looked behind him to see Husk leaning on the door frame. He had his arms crossed with an odd look on his face. Alastor couldn't place it. Almost like a mix of anger and confidence. Smug while still being indifferent, kind of.

"Ah, Husker, just the man I wanted to see. Vox took over my radio show and told me that-"

"He owns you're contracts?"

"Yes. How did you-"

"I'm gonna talk now, and you're going to listen, understood?"

"Husker, I-"

"Understood?"

     Husk had gotten more stern, clearly not willing to back down from this. And without the contract for Husk's soul, it wasn't like Alastor could do much. And so, he stood silently.

"Vox is right, all of what you owned is his now, and that includes me. I'm the one who helped him in the first place."

"Husker, your mediocre humor is not what I need right now."

"Good thing I'm not joking then."

"Husk, you wouldn't."

"I did."

"Then I should turn you into a stain and make your fur a rug for my room."

"Oh yeah? I'd love to see you explain that to Charlie and her dad. Lucifer would make any of your fancy threats seem like a joke."

     Husk hadn't moved from his spot, but Alastor had. The threads of his demon form had begun revealing themselves. The stitching, the antlers, the distant cry. Alastor was towering over Husk at this point, but the only movement Husk made was to stop leaning and stand upright, defiantly.

"Face it Al, if you were gonna do anything you would've by now. But you haven't, and you never will, because you can't afford to lose the respect of anyone. You can't stand the idea of someone not liking you, and to be honest, Charlie's the only who tolerates you being around here. Act high and mighty all you want, but without Charlie's support, you're the same emotional mess you were when you left the city."

     Alastor, seeing Husk refuse to back down and having his bluff called, began turning back into his normal form as he talked.

"Husker, I just don't understand, I thought we were friends."

"We were never friends Alastor, if you didn't see that, then you're just as blind as Vox says you are. All I was, was a trophy to prove how incredible you were."

"Do not bring Vox into this."

"Why not? He owns me now, and quite frankly, I've got a pretty good deal. I'll have to work away from the hotel sometimes, but I'll be compensated, which is more than you ever did for me. Plus, it'd let me keep a closer eye on Angel."

"Ah yes, how could I forget you're little fling."

     At that comment, Husk stood up straighter, and began moving towards Alastor. Alastor tried to stand his ground but quickly found himself backpedaling.

"You know, I was tempted to come up here and beat your ass, but Angel told me not to. He said you didn't deserve that much of my time, and he was right. Look at you, the big bad radio demon, scared of being confronted on equal footing."

"Husk-"

"Here. My last drink for you, ever. Don't talk to me again, got it?"

     Husk turned and left leaving a bottle of cognac in Alastor's hands. As the door closed behind Husk, the radio demon found his anger bubbling. He quickly smashed the bottle of cognac against a wall, before wrecking anything he could get his hands on.

[christmasintheloonybin]

I've been seeing a lot of talk about "body count" this is odd to me. of course an extremely high body count is unattractive, sorry for being a slut shamer or whatever, but it's definitely indicative of a lack of commitment to a serious relationship and genetic defectiveness. of course many women are just on birth control or have bad diets or have been brainwashed or whatever, so it's not really their fault, but still, it's just not what I'm looking for. I don't want a woman I can lay on top of you know I want a mother for my children and shit lol. but it's not really something I would think of or think to ask about, if a woman bragged about it to me ("I've fucked a lot of guys so I'm skilled sexually" or whatever) this would make me uncomfortable because I'm sort of like a little kid or something and I don't really want sex. I'm literally the handsome male autist being taken advantage of by wicked promiscuous women.

but in addition to the obvious high body count = bad for women I've seen people talk about a low body count = bad for men. which is very odd to me. I mean I guess if sex is your entire life it would be beneficial to be with someone who knows what they're doing, especially men fucking women I mean because it's really not so straightforward as it seems. lol. but I don't see how this wouldn't be seen as sort of endearing. I mean if I was a woman I wouldn't want to be with a man with a high body count for the same reason I as a man wouldn't want to be with a woman with a high body count. it's just telling that you've been sufficiently modernized and don't care about the things that I care about.

all of this being said I really dont care I mean it's not something I think about. whenever I've been in a relationship with someone I'm not thinking like "omg she's fucked other guys before" I don't care and again I just wouldn't ask because I don't want to know and I don't want to hear about it. but anyways, my point is, it's undoubtedly creepy for men to pursue virgin women, but wouldn't it be sort of erotic as a woman to seduce a male virgin? I mean because he'd probably want to fuck you so badly you could do whatever you wanted, you'd have immense control over this guy who could obviously easily just rape you but this is what makes it interesting. I mean men having control over women is uninteresting because it's like, well yeah, men are often bigger and stronger than women so by nature they have more power over them. but the reverse not even as a fetishistic inversion I think would be interesting and would be something I would pursue if I was a woman. I mean you could get him to totally debase himself it would be great. like "yeah you can fuck me but first I'm going to pour hot wax on your balls and peg you" and he'd say "yeah of course that's fine that's great" don't even actually do it just troll him. sexual trolling. I mean making him grovel. am I insane or is this erotic? I wouldn't want to be the man it's just sort of an erotic scenario. and I couldn't anyways I'm not a virgin but I do have a low body count and haven't had sex in a few years, and also I don't care much for sex. this might be the root of my problems with women, they have little power over me, I mean I can't be tempted or seduced. I'm typically nice to women just because I like them but I don't like being manipulated so when women, attractive women, try to sway me with their charms I refuse them always.

[lorewarden]

OC x Mother Koril: Part 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) In the days that follow, Koril dons the image of the strong-and-silent guard. She is ever in the presence of her crewmates, observing, speaking only when spoken to. They seem to accept this, and though they take care to include her in mealtime conversation and the odd game of pazaak, they ask her no personal questions. There is undeniably an air of familial ease between the colleagues, Nita included, but there also appear to be some unspoken boundaries.

In fact, she notices that personal details regarding their lives prior to The Purrgil are seldom discussed, if at all.

When she dares make this observation to Captain Jhoram, he simply shrugs. “Everyone has a history. So long as it doesn't catch up to them, I only wanna know that my crew is capable and loyal.”

“That sounds rather ominous,” she says in her best imitation of Nita's playful evasiveness, but feels her concern seeping through even as she utters the words.

“Not at all”, the Captain responds kindly. “See, most people born under the Hutts spend their lives trying to get out. Those who come in, though – they're either trying to disappear, which means they'll keep their heads down and try not to cross anyone too high up – or they're ambitious, ruthless, and don't give a damn for rules. As you can probably guess, you can trust the first type. Pretty easy to spot, too. It's that kind of people that Roggin hires for field work.” He shakes his head emphatically. “So it's in everyone's best interest to stay loyal to each other and keep their speech organs shut.”

“Mutually assured destruction”, Koril nods.

“Exactly. You can talk to 'em about your poodoo if you want to, but you don't have to. It's up to you.”

This puts Koril at ease. She is still tempted to ask about Nita, but understands that she would not get an answer. She would simply have to spend more time with the woman, which she does not deem objectionable. Though they have not spoken much since their first shift in the cockpit, the tall human appears to have taken Koril under her wing, always staying within shouting distance and making certain she's comfortable. The former Clan Mother finds this somewhat amusing – after all, she had been accustomed to being the caretaker – but she is secretly grateful.

Looking at The Purrgil's crew, the phrase “mutually assured destruction” sounds ridiculous to the point of paranoia. Ki and Tanner are as new to the ship as she is, and they are already comfortable debating galactic politics with Garr and sparring hand-to-hand with Hestia under Jhoram's watchful eye.

“Koril, come! You'll want to see this!”, Nita shakes her awake and runs back towards the cockpit. The clock shows 10:43 in the morning, which means they are about to exit hyperspace at the destination any minute now. She nearly falls from her bed, managing to gain balance at the last moment, and shuffles off after Nita.

She is met with the sight of a planet that explodes with green and turquoise. The Bothans were firm believers in the preservation of the natural beauty of their homeworld and it showed even from this distance. Koril feels a wide grin spread across her face. She had not set down on such a wild world since she left Brendok and is now eager – no, desperate – to come closer.

“Flight control, this is The Purrgil requesting a surface landing clearance at Drev'starn Spaceport. Transmitting license and registration,” Nita chimes through the comms.

“Copy that, Purrgil. You are cleared to land at 2-4-1, Bay 19. Transmitting now.”

The freighter vibrates as it enters the atmosphere and Koril grabs the back of Nita's chair to steady herself. The pilot pays her no attention as her fingers deftly dart across the control board, and the vibration slowly stop. They are now gliding towards the surface, so smoothly that Koril thinks she might be dreaming.

“Nice flying. Thank you.”

Nita quickly turns and beams at her. End notes: I know this is a short one, sorry about that. I intend to speed things up after the next chapter. My reasoning for this entire slow beginning is that trust (and love) doesn't just happen overnight, and it's not linear, especially for someone who's been on the run for a year. Such a person would need more than just a few friendly words, and those first days in particular would feel awfully long.

[mysticdragon3md3]

Tempted to complete my TMNT Nendo set.

Nendo Zagreus is also slightly cheaper than I've ever seen him before. Even during GoodSmile's 2023 Black Friday sale, he was $38.49. In this sale, he's $35.74. When Zag and Than were part of the Bundle Deal sale a few months ago, they were were around $40 each. So today's sale price is pretty tempting. I've been on the fence about buying Nendo Zag all this time, but I feel like after Hades 2 releases, Melinoe might get a Nendo, and then I'll feel like I missed out on some fun sibling figure photos, if I don't get Zag. ...I'm still not that obsessed with Hades though, and I really do need to save my money... o_o????????????????

I'm not obsessed with Hamtaro either, but he is cute. And non-standard Nendoroid shapes are interesting to have, from a collector standpoint. ...But I really should be saving money... -_-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

I've also been considering finishing my Inuyasha Nendoroid set. I have Kikyo, Inuyasha, and Kagome. I didn't feel I needed all the Inuyasha series Nendoroids, nor even the whole protagonist team, because, even though I love Rumiko Takahashi, Inuyasha isn't my favorite series of hers. I often feel out of place with other Rumiko Takahashi fans, because these days, they are OBSESSED with Inuyasha…while I'm more into Ranma 1/2 and Mermaid Saga. Which is odd, because when Inuyasha first came out, I LOVED how it felt like a fusion of Ranma 1/2's characters with Mermaid Saga's horror. But when I peek into the Inuyasha fandom, it becomes clear to me that maybe I don't LOVE LOVE LOVE the series. When I see how much they love that series WAY more than I do, it makes me realize how casual I am about it. Maybe I shouldn't be spending another $60 on Nendoroids from Inuyasha.

I got into Jojo's through Jojo6, so I sometimes feel I should get some Stone Ocean Nendoroids. And I did enjoy what I watched so far of Diamond is Unbreakable. But I never became obsessed with Jojo's, so I don't know if that justifies spending the money I should be saving. These are really good prices though.

I couldn't stay long into My Hero Academia even though I loved the protagonist and a lot of the characters, because it turned a bully into the deuteragonist, and bullies are my pet peeve. But I've always thought Todoroki was cool and I enjoyed peeking back into HeroAca every once in a while to see that he had kind of been subsumed into the deuteragonist position(s). And right now, he's on sale for ($24.59) even cheaper than his 2023 Black Friday sale price ($28.69). Still, that's $25 I could be saving for figures of characters I love even more.

Jujutsu Kaisen was another series that I seriously thought would become my new obsession, and would get me back into Shonen Anime. It did not. I LOVED the first 3 main characters. But then the other character got on my nerves, and Crunchyroll kept crashing, so I had to restart a lot of episodes showcasing those grating characters, over and over again... I just fell out of love with JJK really fast. But not before buying Nendoroids for Yuji, Megumi, and Gojo. So sometimes I feel like there's justification in my completionist collector's mind, to buy a few more JJK Nendos, of at least the characters that seemed cool. Maki and Nanami seem cool. And Gojo is always fun, so I wouldn't mind getting another Nendo of him, if it was cheap enough.

And then there's the special effect accessories that always haunt me. I always loved the idea of these things. I love how pretty clear/translucent resin is in figures. I used to constantly browse Bandai Tamashii Nations' Effects parts series at conventions, but I could never really justify the price. Then I finally found Bandai's Figure-Rise Effect series, at a much better price for more parts. These Moderoid Effects are also a little too high a price for the use I'd get out of them. Despite how much I love the look of these types of special effect accessories, I honestly never really use them. ^_^;;;;;; So I really shouldn't spend money on these. But these sale prices are pretty good.

Admittedly, I got into Persona through Persona 5, and I only really love Persona 5. But through the fandom and some crossover games, I've come to see the Yu and Makoto as kind of senpai to Joker, and that dynamic could be fun to photograph. So their Nendoroids (and sometimes Figma) are occasionally on my list of shopping interests. But I really shouldn't be spending money on them.

I'm not obsessed with Vocaloid, but they are a nice vehicle for pretty character design. And though Symphony 2022 version Miku was VERY pretty (utilizing the aforementioned clear/translucent resin that I love), it just didn't grab me enough to buy her. Maybe if I had more of emotional attachment to Miku as a character, then I would have bought her. Len and Rin, I have slightly more emotional attachment to, because they are younger children, and thus, babies to me. I will always find them slightly cuter than Miku. Also, I love variations on a theme, and the idea of them being gender swapped versions of each other intrigues me. So I should have been all set to preorder Len and Rin's Symphony 2022 versions. But then I saw the eyes on their painted prototypes. Normally, Len and Rin have blueish-green or medium blue eyes. But these are pale, light blue. And I don't know what it is with me, but pale blue eyes with light blond hair, look creepy to me. Maybe in kind of a ghostly, glowing type of way. But it's always been unsettling to me. Even with blond-haired, blue-eyed characters I do like, they are usually only saved by my reflexive revulsion, because I love their characters or there's more depth of shadow values in their overall color schemes, or even in their blonds and blue-eyes themselves. But the Len and Rin Symphony 2022 versions are just so ghastly pale in their eyes. When I look at their faces, some inexplicable part of me feels instinctively creeped out, a bit. Still, a sale price is a sale price, and worth considering.

Maneki Neko Miku was one I was looking forward to since her concept art. I love cats, so this concept was very cute to me. But then her painted prototype was revealed, and the overall concept of the figure felt less like "cat", and more like "girl in dress with practically invisible cat ears". Maybe if I saw maneki neko on a regular basis, then I'm reflexively recognize this Miku as a maneki neko, each time I saw her. But instead, I have to think a moment and remember the common parts of a maneki neko, and deconstruct how that had been translated in to this figure/design. Maybe a pattern of paw print motifs and a darker, more visible ear color would have made me think more "cat" with this figure? Maybe less emphasis on the apron with such bright red, would have helped me, think more "cat" than "maid" or "waitress"?...I dunno. But my reflexive reading of this design is never "cat". So it's clear to me that this figure's specific "cat" signifiers were just appealing to a very different set of cultural signifiers for "cat", that were just not a part of my subconscious identifiers. Still, she is very cute, her dress is pretty, and she does have cat ears and a cat pose. So sometimes I am tempted to buy her. And her $48.29 sale price is MUCH better than her usual $69, for a figure that I'm still waffling on buying.

Sleeping Beauty is part of the Myethos FairyTale-Another series that I have been drooling over. I don't normally buy static scale figures. I like figure photography and playing with my figures, so I usually stick to articulated figures. But the Myethos FairyTale-Another series are static figures that I could be perfectly happy simply staring at. I actually really wanted their Little Mermaid figure, since she had so much beautiful clear/translucent resin water effects. But these figures are SO EXPENSIVE. Even for static scale figures, they're a little more mid-high range---at least to me, who usually only buys action figures. lol This sale price is an improvement, but I'm still unsure if I want her THAT much. I do love the flowers, sleeping portrayals, draping fabrics, and long flowy hair, though. So maybe one of these days I'll get this figure.

Yuru Camp is a series that I repeatedly saw Good Smile release figures in multiple versions of the same few characters for. And people have recommended the series to me, as an example of introverts who are not portrayed as needing to become more extroverted. It looks like a calming, "slice of life", "iyashikei" series that I could love. But I just never get around to watching it. x_x; And considering my struggling, personal rule about only spending money on figures of characters I already love, it's just hard to justify a buy. Especially when these characters tend to come in DX versions with much higher prices than normal Nendoroids. But these sale prices certainly put them more within my budget's range. Maybe I could justify adding their numerous accessories to my collection for photoshoot props? I really should watch this series.

I love big, floppy, witch hats. That's why I bought Snow Miku 2014 and am oggling Racing Miku 2024. I haven't watched this series, except for a few clips, and it looks nice. Still, I shouldn't spend Nendoroid-level money on series that I'm not obsessed with and a character I don't really know. Yet, figures CAN be enjoyed simply by looking at them, so that kind of justifies buying figures with designs that I simply think look nice, regardless of not knowing the character. That's why this figure tapping into my affinity for the witch archetype might just justify a buy, especially at this $34.29 sale price. Still, I really should be saving my money.

Desumi, I've had my eye on for a while. But WOW that $72 price! This $43.19 sale price is more acceptable. But still, I haven't actually watched Love After World Domination. It's another one of those series that I've been meaning to watch, but still forget about. I like Tokusatsu, so I really liked the concept of the series, referencing Kamen Rider and Super Sentai. And Desumi has such an ingenue character design in her face and hair---another of my favorite archetypes. But again, $40 here and $40 there can really add up.

Nendo Laffey I probably shouldn't have put on my list. I'm more of a KanColle fan than an Azure Lane fan. But the real reason is that I actually wanted that Nendoroid of Azure Lane's Nendoroid Unicorn. I love lavender hair character designs. And Unicorn had that, AND a cute, simple, elegant dress, AND a little Unicorn plushie!!! Maybe I only screengrabbed Laffey while I was browsing this sale, to remind me of Unicorn. Laffey does have the lavender hair though.

Homura, I love in all forms. But when you collect Nendoroids, you have to pinch pennies wherever you can. And that usually means passing up figure lines that aren't Nendoroids. So I haven't bought any Hello Good Smile figures yet, even though I do think they're cute and relatively low priced. But $13 here, $15 there...Just that 4 times is already a whole Nendoroid that could have been bought instead. But whenever I see Hellow Good Smile on sale, I do consider them for a bit. Maybe during my upcoming Japan trip, I'll end up snatching up whatever Hello Good Smile I run into, even at full price, just as a souvenir for my trip. lol Still, this Hello Good Smile Homura? She'd be nice to get during this sale, but she'll probably get cut out of the running. I already have all her Nendoroids and Figma, after all.

I've always liked the idea of the Dioramansions. And I love that they're stackable. But there are also so many $0.70 scrapbook papers at art/craft stores that look like photorealistic backdrops. That's what I often use in my figure photography. So I often pass up these Dioramansions, even while I'm gushing online about how pretty they are and how I'd love to use them. I'd especially love to put my Nendoroid Kikyo in the Dioramansion of red spider lilies.

I really like the idea of these display risers, and they look very versatile. But since I'm pinching pennies, I usually make my display risers out of popsicle sticks and glue. The Simple Stand Build-on Type would be nice to have someday, as a little extra. Maybe to say that I tried Good Smile's original accessories. And I did buy their sets of The Simple Stand spare support armatures and bases in the past. But I really should be saving money, than paying $10 for display risers.

The rest of these, get a quick run-down of reactions.

Bernadetta is cute. I love relatable shy, anxious characters. But I also hate the Black Eagles route...even if I do like a bunch of the characters there. So I wouldn't consider her Pop Up Parade unless it was on sale, like now.

I love Summer Wars, but I'm not obsessed with Summer Wars. A King Kazma Pop Up Parade is cool. But I don't really need it.

Kakashi is a pretty cool character, but I was never obsessed with him. But maybe for nostalgia's sake or completionist collecting, I should consider buying him. I do have Naruto, Sasuke, and Hinata's Nendoroids, after all. But I didn't like Sakura enough, so I didn't get her Nendoroid. With the set already broken like that in my collection, I feel more allowed to save my money from Nendoroid Kakashi.

Monica's $41.99 price right now is even cheaper than her 2023 Black Friday sale price of $48.99. For a Nendoroid that's normally $70, she certainly keeps tempting me with sale prices during multiple sales. And she is pretty. And maybe I could use her school desk and chair accessories for photoshoots. But I'm still a crafter who technically should make my own classroom props, if I need them. And I like DDLC, but I'm not obsessed with it. And though Monika is pretty, a character design has to be especially special for me specifically, in order for me to stretch my budget now. Maybe if she had a witch hat? lol

Ryuko is always cool. But Pop Up Parades are static scale figures. And I already have her Nendoroid. I really should save my money.

[lunar-but-little]

Prompts: Test, catch, soft

Oh goodness this took so long. No wifi does that I suppose. But I like how this turned out and I'm definitely wanting to make it one of my official AUs! I hope it is to your liking. vwv

Allium duo pog as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Fairy's Trial

16. All the fairies of this colony know that is the age where children are deemed adults. If they survive their trial, that is.

Tommy knew this as well, even more so on the night of his birthday. His trial is simple. Go out and hunt an animal much larger than himself, then bring something back from it. He inhaled deeply from where he sat on a root. His current issue is finding what exactly he should hunt.

Something like a deer would be far too big, though he's not too hesitant to say he's tempted. He could show it off proudly and gain praise from the whole colony. But he was smart enough to know better. A squirrel or mouse would be the opposite problem. The colony hunted those regularly. This was supposed to prove he could handle more challenging hunts.

His colony made sure to train him well enough for this, if he chose the correct creature to go after. Tommy stood up and stretched his wings, beginning a wandering walk.

"A rabbit? No there probably aren't any nearby. Foxes are all in their dens by now. A raccoon would-" Tommy felt something hard hit his face and stumbled back onto his ass.

Cursing under his breath, he shot his gaze up and glared at the wooden fence post he'd surely walked into. Pulling himself to his feet, he looked around. It seemed he had made his way from the forest and onto the edge of a human's lawn. It was forbidden for a fairy to interact with a human, usually for the fairy's own safety. They've seen what the humans do to butterflies and bugs.

Tommy shook the thought from his head and turned to head back into the forest. He instantly froze in his tracks. Mere inches from him was the snout of a pure black cat, gleaming eyes locked onto his. Both were like statues for a few long moments and Tommy's hand twitched for his dagger.

The cat was faster.

Tommy fell into a roll, clutching the fresh scratch across his chest. The claws had mostly grazed him but blood had already begun to bead up and into his shirt. He shot to his feet with his dagger in hand. While it was difficult to read it's body language, the flicking of the cat's tail made it obvious it was toying with him. Tommy yelled and darted to one side of it.

Earning a giant paw to the face.

Tommy grunted as his back made harsh contact with the fence post. He glared at the cat. Fighting a predator like this alone was never a good idea but it was clear the thing wasn't going to let him go back the way he came. Tommy took a quick glance over his shoulder. Perhaps he could run into the human's yard far enough to take flight? It seemed like his only at the current moment.

With a short buzz of his wings, he took off running under the wooden slats. The black cat followed almost immediately. Tommy ran for a few moments, with a couple glances back at the cat, before flapping his wings to begin flight. A slow take off. Why was he-?

Instantly two paws slammed on either side of his body, yanking him back towards the ground. He felt his body collide with the dirt and his head with something much more solid. A weak squint of his eyes showed a pebble right next to his face, his left wing bent at an odd angle, and the cat crouched over him with a paw keeping him firmly pinned down.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut. A sniff caused his hair to flutter and his heart to race. And it practically stopped beating with what he heard next.

"Enderchest, what on earth have you got this time?" A voice called from high above.

The porch light shifted and dimmed behind his eyelids and the pressure on his back was lifted. Tommy dared to open his eyes.

"You know I don't want you messing with bugs. The poor little things don't deserve it and you could get sick if you decide to ea-" The giant figure of the human stilled, Enderchest, the cat Tommy assumed, tucked snug under one arm. He couldn't make out many details due to the glare of the porch light behind them but the fucker sure was massive. Tommy might have even been afraid if he weren't quickly losing his grip on consciousness.

"If you... What the hell is that?"

...

..

.

..

...

Tommy curled into a tighter ball as he came to, his mind cloudy. He could tell if he opened his eyes it would hurt. Or sit up. There was a dull ache in his head and chest that he slowly realized were from the cat. The cat that he was trying to flee from. Hmm. Was he successful? He vaguely remembers a human. If only his mind weren't so fuzzy.

Fuzzy? He furrowed his brow and ran a hand along the ground. It was fuzzy like moss. Except moss wasn't quite this... Fluffy. Despite the urge to just drift back off, Tommy cracked his eyes open. He was right, the light stung and made his head throb. He certainly didn't predict the fluffy pink cloth against his cheek. He ran his hand over it again. Soft. And warm too. He fought his desire to sink into it and sleep once more by forcing himself to sit up.

Tommy's chest and back didn't hurt as much as he thought, but he definitely did not feel fine. He clutched his poorly bandaged chest and took a breath before looking up.

The room appeared plain, with a desk and bed and dresser, but most definitely human. The cloth he laid on was on the desk amongst many other items. The human he'd seen had clearly found and caught him. So why wasn't he in a jar or cage? Tommy would honestly not be sticking around for the answer.

He hauled himself the his feet with a slight teeter that wouldn't really matter while flying. He took a deep breath once more and flapped his wings. He... He only got a few inches of the ground before crashing back down, luckily onto the cloth.

Tommy made a noise of confusion as glanced at his back. He felt his heart catch in his throat. His left wing was bent, he remembered now. Fucking cat. He took a few shaky breaths and settled onto the cloth. A wing could take weeks to heal, if it healed properly. He not sure if he wants to wait that long with a strange human. He couldn't exactly get himself home like this. He wasn't trapped at the moment but that just meant he had no baring for what they were planning with him.

Tommy glanced around the desk for ideas. A tall plastic looking box sat just behind him look good enough for cover if the human came back. He made his way towards the edge of the cloth.

Just as he dropped off the far edge of the plush material, he heard the door open. Tommy froze as a tall human entered the room. They had stark black and white hair with colored glasses and casual attire. They seemed to be scolding the cat again.

"I'm gonna lock you in a god damn room if you don't quit messing with stuff. You're the reason this door is closed anyway," The cat made an incessant meow, "Yeah, no you're not going near them." They human closed the door again and soft pawing was barely audible from the other side.

Tommy watched, stock still, as the human sighed and walked towards the desk. He could see that they had a small tray on their arm but not what the tray held. His eyes widened as they seemed to scan the pink cloth with a breath of a gasp. They set the tray down on the other end of the desk and begin searching around the cloth.

They eyes found his almost instantly and his breathing became shallower. They stayed locked for what felt ages, what with them practically looming over him. Tommy didn't want to be the one to make the first move but he also wanted this staring contest to end. Luckily, the human was the first to speak.

"Are... Are you feeling alright now?" They asked in a soft voice.

Tommy didn't trust their concern in the slightest, but he didn't want them to know he was terrified for his life. So he settled on what he was known to do best.

"Be a lot fucking better if your fucking cat didn't try to murder me!" He shouted at them, coming out from behind the cloth some. He kept his wings tucked low in hopes of hiding the damage from the human's sight.

They flinched back in surprise, tripping over their words, "I... I'm so, so sorry about them! I've been trying to stop them from doing this kind of thing for ages before, well, before something like this," They gestured in Tommy's general area on the desk, "I'll try to help you any way I can with whatever you need to heal."

Tommy's head throbbed. With anger, with fear, the possible concussion he had. He was tired and had no way to get home, if they'd even want him there after failing his trial. Part of him wanted to take that offer, have somewhere to stay while his wing readjusted.

A bigger part was horrified at the possibility of this being some kind of ploy to make him easier to capture and use. It's rare, he's heard of it happening before, using a fairy for their little bit of magic. Several people have disappeared. But he was here all night and very much not dead...

Apparently he'd taken to long to answer.

"I, uh, could just help you back home if you'd prefer? I'd like to help to make up for what happened but if you'd rather just leave I get it," They rubbed their neck nervously, probably wanting him to give some kind of answer.

Tommy stared at them with a bit of shock before sighing. If they were offering to let him leave...

"Fine. I'll let you help me. Just keep that fucking thing away from me," He pointed towards the door.

The human let out a breath of relief, visibly relaxing, "Of course! I planed too anyway, for everyone's sake," The human stated before standing straighter. Tommy backed up several inches on shaky legs.

The human retrieved their tray as Tommy processed what he'd just done. He's trusted a human. With his life. The concussion must have make him insane.

"Oh! I'm Ranboo, by the way," They set a small plate of chopped fruits a small distance from him with a soft smile, "Could I know your name?"

He stared at the fruit a moment, slowly walking closer to it. He picked up a piece of what seemed to be strawberry and glanced up at th-Ranboo, "Tommy..." He takes a bite from the strawberry.

[im-someone-i-guess]

just like old times

a jurdan fic by ryhanna

word count: 2,719

Jude Duarte held the hilt of her sword so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She felt the beady eyes of the Seelie and Unseelie on her, some judging in contempt and others in wonder. There were mortals among the crowd as well but Jude's gaze was locked on a singular figure waltzing on his own.

Though in a room filled with beautiful faeries, he still managed to stand out. His dark hair like a raven's wing a golden goblet held in his spindly fingers. The cruel tilt of his mouth as he turned towards her only doubled her building irritation. He held out a hand, tilting his head, gesturing for Jude to come dance with him.

Cardan Greenbriar, High King of Elfhame had always gotten what he wanted. Jude was tempted to turn away and walk back to the palace, just to be contrary. She had other things to do, schemes to plan and traitors to hunt. Just yesterday Bomb had exposed a coup against the High King, had found a mercenary in the human lands planning to kill Oak too.

The urge to return to the Court of Shadows was immense but Jude did promise Cardan she'd dance with him at tonight's revel. Unlike faeries, she was not bound to her words, it was a mortal’s abilities, along with the ability to lie. As Cardan loved to point out, Jude was a dirty mortal liar. But the statement usually followed with a kiss, burning with desire.

"I had thought you would join Bomb to contemplate suitable torture for the mercenary before you stepped onto the dance floor, it seems I am mistaken. Tell me Jude, what compelled you to stay?" Cardan passed his goblet to a servant, his hands placing themselves on Jude's hips as she placed hers on his shoulders.

This close Jude could see the leaves carved into his golden circlet, her reflection in the scarlet rubies. Earlier today, Tatterfell had braided Jude's hair in horns, draping golden chains with similar gems on them. Jude had no doubt the imp chose the particular accessory to match Cardan.

"I promised, didn't I?" Jude murmured. Disbelief flashed on his features as did delight but Cardan only smiled. "We both know how you tend to prefer the Court of Shadows over the Royal Court, especially when there is work to be done."

He was perfectly aware of the coup to overthrow him, his subjects were no longer bound to him by oath as they were before he broke the Blood Crown in two. Jude did not like what had directly followed but she did enjoy the respect glistening in every faeries' eyes. Still, without the Blood Crown and the sure devotion that came with it, wicked schemes had become a frequent occasion.

"How is Oak? You visited him yesterday." Jude opened her mouth to answer but Cardan had more to say. "Why didn't you bring me with you? You're aware of my fondness for mortals, yes? No matter how often they seem to forget me."

"It's not my fault you have matters of state to accomplish," Cardan murmured, twirling Jude across the floor then back to his arms. Her steps weren't as graceful as his but at least she did not stumble and fall face first into the grass. "Are you going back any time soon? To visit Vivienne or Madoc?"

"I don't think it's wise to speak about such things at a revel," Jude told him but her voice wavered, her mind more occupied with not messing up the dance. "And I'll try to alert you on my next adventure to the mortal world."

It was not the promise he wanted but Cardan still pursed his lips, it was satisfying enough for him. But alerting did not mean agreeing to bring him along, it still felt odd to have Elfhame's High King walking down the streets she grew up in.

"Your Majesties," a figure bowed in front of them, interrupting their dance. Cardan looked displeased but relief flooded through Jude, she was eager to stop dancing "The faeries associated in the coup had made a move, they will be going to attack Oak. What do you think we should do?"

Jude didn't recognise the figure but she did recognise the mask they were wearing. Only three faeries in Elfhame had such a mask but she couldn’t remember either of their names. As long as they wore the masks, no one would ever recognise them.

The figure made their way quietly through the crowd, summoning ragwort ponies for the journey. Jude made her way to follow but Cardan had gripped her wrist. She tried to wrench it away but Cardan refused to let go. "As your husband, I feel obligated to accompany you and as the High King, I think I have right to know the happenings in my own kingdom."

Cardan made a valid point and although Jude wanted to argue, there were faeries watching gleefully, no doubt eavesdropping. Swallowing her words, she cast a scathing glare towards her beloved husband and let him lead the way.

The faeries offered graceful curtsies and low bows, murmurs of "Your Majesty" and other noble compliments. It was such a contrast from the constant glares from before that faithful coronation-turned-bloodbath.

"Oak will be no more than leverage but they have not reached him yet. Madoc had sworn not to lay a hand on any weapon but he would be able to take any threat with his bare hands. He will not let them hurt Oak, at least for Oriana's sake."

"If Madoc has it handled then why are our presence required at the mortal land?" Cardan asked.

"My presence is required, you can return to your goblets of wine and waltzing by yourself." It wasn't, she could just as easily order a few guards but she knew she had to go.

"It has lost its appeal." The curve of his smile held the glint of something mischievous. "Could we stop for pizza, there must be a decent restaurant offering pizza. We should bring Oak along, he delights in choosing the toppings."

But bringing Oak meant bringing Oriana and surely Madoc would follow. Jude did not dislike them but she dreaded the subtle insults and disapproving glares. But she supposed seeing Oak made up for the shortcomings. If only they were visiting under better circumstances.

"We have no time to change, glamour will have to do," the faerie told them, they were already saddled on their ragwort pony. Jude nodded and climbed onto the pony, ignoring Cardan's hand.

As soon as Cardan climbed onto his, the ponies took off into the sky. The stars were bright tonight, Jude caught the look of amazement in Cardan's eyes, his black hair whipping around his face. She felt a smile tugging on her lips but she knew the faerie was watching.

"We land here," they shouted, their voice barely audible over the wind. Still, the ragwort ponies slowly made their way down, turning back into stalks the moment they stepped on land.

Jude stumbled onto the cobblestone pathway, Cardan walking behind her with an amused grin. She cast him a glare but his smile only spread wider. Jude made a gesture Oriana would heavily disapprove but Cardan merely flipped his hair, staring at his reflection on the car window.

She was about to say something else but was interrupted by a small faerie child, horns peeking from his hair. Small arms wrapped around Jude's legs, Oak had gotten taller, she realised. He had started telling Jude about school and his friends before slender hands wrenched him away.

"Your Majesties," Oriana murmured, managing an elegant curtsy despite her human clothes. The blue flowers on her white blouse matched her ghostly skin and the skinny jeans matched her slender figure. "Did something happen? Guards have suddenly been stationed outside with orders to not disclose any information."

Jude was about to tell her but the streets weren't secure, someone could overhear. "We'll come inside first, I can't wait to see Madoc." Her voice was dripped with sarcasm and she knew Oriana disapproved of her tone but like the perfect lady she was, Oriana made no comment, instead forcing a pleasant smile and half dragging Oak inside.

Vivi was out with Heather, Oriana told her, finally letting go of Oak's hand. The faerie child had ran off to converse with Cardan who was telling him to order pizza. A small part of her still laughed in disbelief at the absurdity of the High King of Elfhame eating mortal food. But she knew Cardan liked pizza, Jude wondered if maybe he would order the palace cooks to learn how to make them.

"My daughter, what brings you here? That's twice in the past two weeks." Madoc was grinning but it highly resembled a predator bearing its teeth. "I hear whispers this is about Oak, I deserve to know what's going on?"

He did, despite his traitorous ways and twisted views, he still cared for Oak.

"There was a coup against the High King, we received word that they were going to use Oak for leverage," Jude told them. Oriana looked horrified but Madoc only looked grim, his eyes drifting towards Cardan. The High King was no doubt listening to the conversation, felt the intense stare boring holes into the back of his head but he did nothing to acknowledge it.

"Why Oak? Doesn't Taryn have a child too, they could take him and he would be better leverage. Your sister would beg you for the safe return of her son and you'd do anything in your power to ensure it happens." Madoc made a valid point but Jude refused to tell him that.

"So you think it is better to condemn an infant? The boy is perfectly innocent."

"And so you think Oak being in danger is better?" Oriana held her hands over her mouth, muffling a sad wail.

"Taryn is a sister of the High Queen, she is always protected with guards and a personal acquaintance." Jude noticed Madoc's small smile, he remembered the Ghost, no doubt. "Oak is in the human world, living with three faeries whom are either unable to properly hold a blade or hold one at all." Madoc's glare could burn down forests.

"Then why not just send guards? You didn't have to visit us." Madoc was calculating, piecing together her plan. Jude could feel his stern eyes looking straight into her soul. "You think they will attack tonight?"

Jude only managed a nod, the conversation interrupted by a doorbell. Oak exclaimed something about pepperoni pizza and ran towards the door, a wallet in hand and the High King in tow. Jude saw Cardan's tail curling in curiosity.

Oak opened the door to reveal a man, a pizza box in hand. "That would be twenty dollars for two pizzas," the man said, handing the boxes to a smiling Cardan. "Though I think it would be better if you paid in blood."

The man took of his cap, revealing green hair and horns like the branches of a tree. Instantly Nightfell was unsheathed and pointed at his neck. The faerie only laughed, his eyes holding a wild gleam as Oriana pulled Oak away. Cardan stood next to Jude, his earlier excitement morphed into a glare.

"How interesting, we were not expecting the High King to be here. This makes my job much easier, you see. Less places to go, less threatening to do. Now I just stab a blade through the ribs of the High King, High Queen and Little Oak."

Jude pointed the blade closer but the faerie dodged, an insane smile on his lips. He had unsheathed his sword too, a fine blade with leaves carved in its hilt. It was shorter than Nightfell, limiting his reach but his limbs were longer, that evened the odds. If only Jude hadn't been trained by the Elfhame's former Grand General. 

The faerie lunged but Jude dodged just as easily. They went on like that, Jude's arms aching from the strain but she noticed the slight huff of breath every time he lunged; a tell that wasn't even well hidden. Easily, Jude watched as he huffed and lunged, dodging and stabbing at the man's side. Then again at his right leg, and again on his shoulder.

Jude endured a few scratches, deep enough to drip blood but not enough to cause any real damage. The faerie took two more blows on his left leg and right arm before Jude swept him off his feet, demanding him to tell her who sent him.

"I sent myself, Cardan does not deserve to be on that throne and Elfhame should not tolerate a mortal queen." It was an ordinary insult but it still stung, especially when Jude remembered a faeries inability to lie. "There will be more, you should step down and save yourself the trouble, Elfhame—"

The faerie said no more, he would never say any more. Jude had cut his head clean off, the faerie was working alone, hate blooming in his heart for the High King and Queen. There was nothing else to know, Oak was safe, he hadn’t even really been in real danger. Madoc would've been able to handle him with his bare hands. Any decent guard she issued would've been able to take him down. So why did she decide to come?

"We should stay here for a while longer, we have pizzas and Jude needs to regain her strength," Cardan said, ushering Jude upstairs to the guestroom they frequent every time they visit. She was tempted to drag Cardan out and tend to her own wounds but she had a feeling he would not relent.

"You know, I have always sensed defiance in you, strong willed and threats at the ready. I find it fascinating that you have the skills to back up every promise of revenge." Cardan had started wrapping her hand with gauze. "You beheaded someone in Madoc's living room while wearing your revel dress."

Surely enough, Jude was still wearing her cobalt gown though it had been torn in several places. Knowing she'd need to take the dress off before Cardan could properly address the rest of her scratches, Jude unbuttoned the dress, Cardan helping when her arms could no longer reach back.

Jude and Cardan had stocked up their mortal clothes the last time they went together, Cardan buying several cosmetic supplies as well. She had watched him pour the items on the counter, smiling at the girl at the counter with his usual lazy smile.

She chose a black shirt and a pair of decent jeans. Cardan had changed from his feathered doublet and into a striking red blouse, puffy sleeves and polka dots printed on the fabric. He was extravagant enough for the both of them, Jude noted as Cardan rearranged his hair to better highlight the golden circlet.

Jude's own hair had somehow stayed in place, the chains slightly askew but otherwise perfectly fine. She'd thank Tatterfell later but the faeries do not thank so Jude would have to settle for a small smile of gratitude the next time she saw the imp.

"I still remember when you held your blade at me, threatening to kill me. I believed you, of course. It is a blessing that you no longer want to, having you as an enemy would destroy my kingdom." Cardan said, taking a seat in front of the vanity once he finished with Jude's wounds, his back turned against the mirror to meet Jude's gaze.

"How do you know I no longer wish to kill you, husband of mine?" Jude grinned, pointing her sword at Cardan's throat. "I could slit your throat and take the throne for myself, why share power when I could have it all to myself?"

"Just like old times," Cardan murmured, glancing at the blade then at Jude. "You are a good liar but a liar nonetheless." Pushing the blade aside with the tip of his finger, Cardan pulled Jude down and met his lips with hers. Jude couldn’t stop the smile as their lips parted, the taste of his lips lingering on her tongue.

"Shall we go eat our pizza, dear husband?"

"We shall, my beloved wife."

[katsukithme]

First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

[himitsu-luna]

Nct 127 - Creature series

File #6 - Jaehyun, the vampire

Genre: angst, supernatural, romance

Warnings: death of characters, mentions of killing methods, mentions of blood, pain, description of vampire bites and perfuration

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader

Featuring: Jeno

Word count: 2.7 k

Nct 127 creature series masterlist

The story

Jaehyun was born in 1797, as a normal human.

At that time, mankind and the vampire breed had a tense relationship. But, very strangely, everything seemed under control

When he was 24, because of a series of unfortunate events, involving conspirations and betrayals, a war broke out between the two races

Jaehyun, as a young soldier and leader of a troop, were sent to the battlefield.

Sad and bitter events happened, and he was turned into a vampire.

Since then, he lives for centuries and centuries, going from place to place, playing hundreds of roles, experiencing hundreds of lives, looking for one thing that keeps him going through his imortal existence

The powers

You either are born as a vampire or you become one.

You only become a vampire if you get bitten by one

However, when you get bitten by a vampire, it doesn't necessarily mean you will become one.

The cruel part of turning into a vampire is that it's not for free. In reality, it's an exchange of a life for another life.

The vampire transformation takes 2 hours to be completed, and it will only fully consolidate if the bitten person drinks a considerably large amount of human or vampire blood before the two hours end. Otherwise, when the time comes to an end, the person dies.

The person or vampire bitten by the incomplete transformed vampire inevitably succumbs.

In other words, the vampire transformation is always tragic, because someone always perishes in the end.

Vampires drink blood to survive, but it doesn't need to be human blood. They can survive with other animal's blood, but human blood is a completely different treat.

Jaehyun has an abnormal strenght, and over developed senses

He has basic telepathic and telekinetic abilities, which gives him great manipulation skills

He has the ability of quickly healing physical wounds

A few things are able to end his life though: fire, drowning, decapitation

– Report: Incident number 1

°°°

[year: 1821]

– "Jaehyun, do you really have to go?", you ask your husband for the 100th time at the doorstep of your house, firmly holding his hands, barely able to see him with your eyes blurred by tears.

– "Y/N, I do. I'm their leader. I need to fight. I need to protect everyone. And most importantly, I need to protect you. Don't worry, my love, I'll be back. I promise..." , Jaehyun responds you with a suplicant tone, his voice sounding deeper than usual, as he tries to hide the shakiness on it.

After a last passionate kiss, a last squeeze of hands, and a last long glance holding the desire of the two of you to freeze time, Jaehyun goes through the door without looking back. He has to admit he is afraid he may not live up to his promise. Vampires are scary beings. Powerful, almost untouchable. It's incredible how humans stand in this war against these creatures so far. Fortunately, some powerful vampires still side mankind, hoping the unlikely coexistence.

Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun jumps into the colourless truck that is going to take him and dozens of other soulless men to the battlefield.

...

[6 months later]

– "CHEERS TO JAEHYUN!!!!!!!"

– "CHEERS!!!!!!!"

– "Guys, guys!! Calm down!!! Hahahaha"

Jaehyun is being carried by dozens of euforic men, acclaimimg their leader for his bravery and determination to get every single one of his mates back to their families. The war is over. The last vampires retreated and, finally, peaceful days can be seen in the horizon. Tears are being shared, parties are being planned, but in the middle of all the deafening happiness, Jaehyun's only desire is to sink into your warm hugs again.

...

Turning around the last corner to reach his home, his heart racing madly, Jaehyun meets your comforting figure, that waited for him every single day at the door since he left, and that now is running to him with arms open. The vision of you completely blinds Jaehyun. He missed you so much. He can't wait to feel you again. But it blinds him so badly that he can't see the bloodthirst creature hidden in a dark alley, ready to jump on him. Still with his eyes glued on you, he watches your smiley face abruptly squirming into pure horror. He was given not even half of a second to process that scene, as he suddenly feels a piercing pain in his jugular, followed by his entire body landing on the ground, then a light breeze brushing his now even paler skin, as the treacherous vampire vanishes from the scene, releasing, with his gutural voice, an almost incomprehensible yet still powerful word: "Revenge".

Jaehyun’s senses are all messed up and his body convulses violently. But even imersed in chaos, his brain tries hard to not lose itself completely, as it percieves you getting closer and closer.

– "DON'T COME!!!" - he desperately yells, in his last effort to maintain his sanity.

But it's too late.

His concious falls apart completely. Everything gets red. Everything is too much, everything is overwhelming. He can clearly hear a rythmic heartbeat, that is not his own, resonating inside of his skull. He can clearly see the tempting purple path under a layer of skin, shining in high saturation in a waving hypnotizing motion. He can clearly feel his teeth landing on a soft surface and sinking deep into it. He can clearly taste the metalic flavor of blood spreading through his tongue. And after all of that, he can clearly smell your floral perfume, he can clearly feel hot heavy tears running down his cheeks, as he realizes what he has done.

Slowly getting his mind back as the sharp fangs retracts to the normal sized canines he is used to, Jaehyun is left in agony, all his face muscles contracted into profound sadness, looking at your fragile figure in his arms.

–"No no no no NOOO!!!! PLEASE NO!! Y/N, TALK TO ME!! Talk to me...please.....", he implores you, swinging his body back and forth, trying to keep you awake.

–"Jae.... It's ok.... It's o..k.... You... Are back... I'm so happy..." - you murmur, lifting your hand to wipe the cheeks of your beloved one.

You know how this works. You know that Jaehyun has become a vampire, and you know he won't die. You know he is safe. With that thought in mind, you smile relieved. You let your eyelids fall along with your hand, and, spending all of your remaining energy, you force your lips to move one last time : – "I love you...".

....

Standing in front of your grave, depositing your favorite flowers on the shining black marble, Jaehyun mentalizes his sorrowfull wishes over and over again, hoping they reach you:

– "I promise, Y/N, I promise you... I'll find you in whenever life you live, I promise I'll go back to you. I promise."

...

[Year: 2021]

–"OmG, I'll be late!! No no noo!!!! Stupid alarm!!" - you yell at the air, tripping on your cozy blankets, from your bed to your way to the ground.

A job like that would never fall on your lap again, for sure. You were a just graduated college student, visibly lost in the adult world, looking for a job so you can survive. You still can't believe that such a big company sent you this unexpected invite, willing to hire you. "I'm not mad, though.", you cheerfully think, while quickly spraying some perfum on the birthmark you have on your neck.

Shoving a piece of dry toast into your mouth while putting on your shoes, you rush to your first day at your new job.

....

You made it in time. Waiting for having a word with your new boss, you briefly look at yourself on the hand mirror you always take with you, fixing your messy hair and straightening your black blazer. Distracted in your own little world, you jump in surprise when an elegant man silently steps in the room, stands by your side without you noticing, and announces, with a resonant voice right into your ear:

– "Boss is ready to see you"

Having a look at the name tag hanging over the man's chest, you thank him:

–"Ohh, thank you.. hmm.. mr. Jeno! And I'm pleased to meet you!"

Jeno gives you a discreet smile, guiding you to a enormous poor iluminated room, in which a gorgeous and imponent figure stands behind an impressive desk. Your pupils take a few seconds to adjust to the weak lighting, but as soon as you exchange stares with that mysterious man, a weird wave of excitement runs throughout your whole body, like your blood is bubbling inside of your veins. You've never felt like this before, and it intensifies when you finally hear a deep, smooth, and weirdly familiar voice coming out of his mouth:

– Report: Incident number two

–"Hello, Y/N. Nice to meet you. You can call me Jaehyun".

–––

It has been five years you're working at Jaehyun's company. And it has been three years you stand beside him not only as his employee, but also as his lover.

Jaehyun is a fascinating man. But there's something very odd about him. You don't know if it's the way he seems to be able to go deep into your mind. If its the way he has the knowledge of an ancient person. If it's the way everything he does feels nostalgic. If it's the way he looks at you and you can see, along with a sincere love, deep sadness and sorrowfullness emanating from his eyes. If it's the way you are sure you knew him already even before your first encounter. If it's the way you feel like you've been waiting for him your whole life. –" Oh well, maybe there's something very odd about me as well." , you think in a dreamy state while watching Jaehyun sleeping peacefully beside you.

...

You are at Jaehyun's house, distractedly walking around and running your fingers through the fancy furniture, waiting for him so you can have the homemade dinner he's been promising you for weeks now. He finally found an empty spot in his busy schedule, and it has been good thirty minutes since Jeno let you know he and your boyfriend were at the supermarket, picking some ingredients. "Jaehyun must be so lost right now", you chuckle to yourself, wondering what weird things he would buy. But with the chuckle, you feel a light discomfort in your chest. You have a weak heart condititon since birth, so you're used to this sensation. "Ahh, not today! Today I have to be 100% good!" , you scold yourself, hoping the annoying feeling ceases soon.

But it's not. The light discomfort turns into a light pain. The light pain turns into a fierce pain. The fierce pain turns into and unbearable pain. Imersed in your suffering, you automatically massage your heart area and sustain your body stood by grabbing the nearest thing you can reach. And, before you lose your senses entirely, you can feel this thing moving, holding you tightly and carefully, and calling your name with that deep voice you loved so much : – " Y/N!!!!!!!!"

....

Staring at your motionless body on his arms, the dejavu Jeahyun is having is breaking him apart. After dozens of peaceful lives with you, he was not expecting losing you like this once more. Gradually and certainly, he is following your heartbeat on its crescent silence. He doesn't want to feel this pain again. If it's selfish, if it's benevolent, it's tricky – and even unfair – to judge the only thought that goes through Jaehyun's mind right now. With a decided and firm tone, he instructs Jeno:

– "Jeno, look after her, please. That's my last order to you."

With an almost imperceptible widening of eyes, seeing how his master determination even made his quivering less severe, Jeno answers him, trying to transmit in his voice the confidence and reliability he knows Jaehyun needs to feel.

– "Yes master, I understand. I will."

This phrase brings a peaceful expression to Jaehyun's face. Focusing completely on you, Jaehyun's fangs sharpen and he plants them into the flesh of your neck. You imediatelly wake up, as a wave of electricity runs through your body and excites every cell of it. You don't know what is happening, everything is so confusing with your blurred red vision. But you know you're thirsty. Your throat feels dry, and it claims something that is not water. You sense someone's body pressing itself on yours and, instinctively, you deep your teeth into the warmness, finding yourself satiating your needs with some unknown viscous liquid.

And a movie starts to play before your eyes. A movie staring you and Jaehyun. A movie showing all of your lives together. A wedding at a beach you've never been before. Jaehyun holding an unfamiliar happy dog you didn't know you missed so badly. You and him wearing antique clothes you've never owned, discussing about what to cook for dinner while watching the sunset. His crying face painted with red blots, his body swinging back and forth holding you in his arms, trying to keep you awake.

Drowning in an ocean of memories, you frantically attempt to resurface back to your present reality. Slowly pulling your teeth out of Jaehyun's neck, you gently wrap your arms around his cold body and sink your forehead onto his shoulders.

– "Jae... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...."

– "It's.... ok, Y/N, it's ok.... I'm the one who is sorry"

– "No! It must have been so difficult for you... All these years, all this waiting... I'm so sorry... And... thank you so much."

– "I know... You... Would do the same... For me."

At this point, you are not trying to hold your tears anymore. At this point, Jaehyun's life is already hanging by a thin thread. Showing his dimples to you, his last words come faint, but still carry heavily the pure meaning of them:

– "I love you."

[Year: 2058]

– "Master, the apartment was rented successfully.", the serious and steady man says coming out of nowhere, getting by surprise your anxious and wondering mind.

– "OMG, Jeno! Are you a vampire or a ghost, please!! But ok, thank you a lot. Let's prepare everything then." , you respond, barely hiding your excitement.

Packing your things in an untidy chaotic way, you suddenly stop your actions. Hesitantly and avoiding eye contact, you ask Jeno something that has been bothering you for years now:

–" ....Hmm...Jeno.... Do you.... Do you think he will still like me?"

Even though he was caught off guard by your question, Jeno promptly replies:

– "I have no doubt about it, master. Thousand of years could pass, his love for you would remain the very same. I've witnessed it, trust me."

You bite your bottom lip, trying to conceal the wide smile forming on your red crying face.

....

*Knock Knock*

Lying on the couch of his living room, Jaehyun lazily raises only his head, wondering who could be knocking on his door. He definetely is not willing to stop watching his drama to answer the unknown visitor.

*Knock knock*

Finally accepting that staring at the door would not make something magically happen, he decides to get up and open it. However, he was not expecting that such a trivial thing would be so life changing.

– " Hi, I'm your new neighbor! My name is Y/N, nice to meet you!", you nervously say, extending your already sweat hand to the admired boy in front of you.

Jaehyun is astonished. He thought he had his whole life figured out. But, all of sudden, only now he can say that everything makes sense, that everything is where they should be. Only now he truly feels alive. Like a breath of fresh air, like he is living in a completely new world, he grabs your hand firmly, afraid you could vanish, and asks you in disbelief:

–" Do I know you from somewhere?"

–" Maybe...", you answer, with a mischievous yet tender expression painted on your face.

Jaehyun smiles at you softly, feeling the comfort and the sense of familiarity that only centuries of linked lives could bring him.

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[bookwyrminspiration]

NO BUT THE TAM ANON THEY MADE SO MUCH SENSE AND YOU DID TOO

i relate to tam very much which feels a bit odd because he really doesn’t get much page time but after reading that analysis i understand why i relate to him more now

but also. tam is actually really kind and caring ?? like it isn’t as obvious because he has a hard time with his emotions or a healthy way to express them, but he really does value the few emotional connections that he has. like when he and linh were banished - originally, tam wasn’t banished, only linh for the flooding. he chose to go with her, chose a life that would be incredibly difficult when he was only eleven years old. that says wonders for tam’s character and how much he cares than words ever could.

i know that with the end of flashback and during legacy people did not like tam’s decision at all, but linh was his only real emotional connection. of course he would go with the neverseen because he was afraid that she would be in danger. he risked everything for her, even though there was no one who would do the same for him.

he could have turned out so differently, given everything he’s been through. he honestly might have turned to the neverseen’s side and might have been tempted by everything they could offer him, but he didn’t.

tl;dr: tam song is an insanely complex and strong character and he deserves so much more recognition in the books and from the fandom.

exactly! there's so many layers to Tam that we haven't explored so I want! To talk about all of them! The complexities of being a sibling that takes on a role of protection and stability when he's also struggling, the way he seems to exist as Other from the group and doesn't really try to be a part of it and is just there, be capable of earning high scores but unable to apply himself...Shannon can we have an entire book from his perspective please /hj. Like he got Keefe and that was cool but please. Tam. I need it.

I think favorite characters tend to come from how much we can see ourselves in them (not always, but sometimes!), and for Tam I just ahh there's so much to him. And I'm flattered the analysis could help you figure that out! I will be honest I don't entirely remember what I said as I've been taking inventory of my book collection for the past several hours (but I did finish it!), but I do remember some parts of it.

You are so right. Tam is one of the most kind and considerate people in the series, it just depends on whether you're someone he's decided he's going to look out for. Linh, for example, he would do anything for. She's in his circle and he's decided to be there for her 100% of the time. But even when you're not completely in his circle, he's still looking out for others. It's in this weird sense of taking personal responsibility for people he can hurt and therefore feels he needs to protect from himself, which is where that whole "don't let Keefe near me" thing came from.

he's not kind in the sense that he goes out of his way to make others feel good and be more comfortable, but he's kind and considerate in the way that he makes sure he's not hurting people he doesn't want to be hurting. And in that way, he's being kind towards them. Like how he stopped practicing with shadowflux when Sophie and Fitz got close--he didn't do that because they're super close to him, but because he thinks of it as his responsibility to keep himself from hurting them.

and choosing to go with Linh!! Oh I could probably talk about that for hours. The deliberate decision to suffer alongside someone else so you don't benefit off their pain...because I bet his home life would've improved a little with Linh gone. Now that he could more easily be passed off as an only child, his parents wouldn't bring up the twin thing and they'd be nicer. He'd be in a home with amenities while he sister is out there suffering because of something that isn't her fault, and if anything happened to her he would've blamed himself for not being there. He's so caring towards the people he lets in. That is an intrinsic part of who he is but we don't talk about it enough! I talk about Tam's anger and his observance and his past, but never enough about how he's a genuinely nice person.

And tam's decision at the end of Flashback...it's the only decision that makes sense for him. There's a reason Lady Gisela threatened Linh, and it's because she wanted to manipulate Tam specifically. I think we've gotten a little too used to looking at things through Sophie and forgotten that Tam doesn't work like she does. He's not a "we're gonna do everything and also save everyone and defy the odds!" kind of person. he manages expectations and tries to work through things in ways that are realistic and end with the least people hurt. When he joined the Neverseen, the only person at risk was him, and that's not of concern to him. By joining, he was ensuring that someone threatened was safe, not trying to outsmart someone with more power--because we've seen how that ends too many times. It was smart! It was a really smart move on his behalf!

Given everything he's been through, he has every right to have turned out a horrible, awful, selfish person with a bitter attitude who hates everyone and everything. But he didn't. He took the beating and he came out different, but he was still kind, still there for those who need him. that takes so much strength to experience the worst of the world and keep going, to just brace yourself and move forward anyways.

Tam is such a strong character and I love him so much. There is not enough words in existence to express how much his character means to me, and I can only hope to see more of it in the coming books. He's hardened and wary, but he isn't cruel or anything because of it.

I don't think any character can every top him for me. There's just too much complexity and intrigue. He's my favorite character.

[when-they-write-stuff]

Any prompt? :P OK then how about 14 & 46 together? Hehe, you don't have to. I just liked these the most and I'm curious how they would work together in one of your fics :D

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” & “It’s pitch black and I can still see you blushing.”

- -

Stiles blamed the witch.

It seemed like whenever something went wrong in Beacon Hills, it was the fault of a witch. Sometimes warlocks too, but they seemed to avoid Beacon Hills a lot more often. But the witches, man. They were always there. 

Looming.

The point is, this was the fault of a witch. And Stiles was so done.

He was feeling pretty handy with a baseball bat about three seconds before he was blasted into a tree. At second one, Stiles was racing across the field with a battle cry in his throat. A second two, he was being flung back by a blast of light to his chest. And at second three, all he knew was pain.

Stiles blamed the witch. It was all her fault.

Then all he knew was black.

-

Stiles wasn’t a stranger to waking up in odd places.

When he was a kid, he used to fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed. When he was in middle school, he fell asleep at Scott’s and woke up in a tree. In his freshman year of high school, he was dared to stakeout the girl’s locker room and woke up in the principal’s office. The point is, Stiles was used to experiencing odd things.

He wasn’t expecting to wake up and find a strange man looming over him, though.

“Woah, holy fuck, dude! Stranger danger! Invasion of my personal bubble! Someone call the cops!”

The guy looked extremely irritated as he backed off. Someone else came into view; and Stiles nearly melted in relief as he recognized his best friend.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Scott. Scott. Dude, I swear to god, if I fell asleep in your tree again, it was a complete accident and I didn’t mean to—” Except that wasn’t Scott. Yeah, it had his face and his adorable puppy eyes, but nothing else. Nothing.

Because Scott was a lot smaller. His hair was a lot fluffier. And what the hell was with the newly acquired muscles?

“Uh, dude?” Scott said, taking a cautious step forward. Stiles squawked and shoved himself up, realizing he was on a metal table and surrounded by other people he didn’t recognize. His heart pounded at a hundred miles an hour and he dug his nails into his palm, trying to force back a panic attack.

“Guys,” Scott said. “He’s panicking. Everyone back up.”

“D-do we know these people? Do I know these people?”

“He’s finally lost it,” a blonde-haired girl said. Stiles blinked at her and then squinted. Because that was— no, it couldn’t be. There was no way.

“Erica Reyes?”

“Yeah,” a curly-haired boy next to her said. Upon recognition, Stiles didn’t know what the hell Isaac Lahey was doing here. Or how the guy even knew who Stiles was. “He’s lost it.”

“He hasn’t lost anything,” a gruffer voice said. It was scary ‘no sense of personal space’ dude, Stiles realized, cringing back slightly. “Deaton said his memory has been reset a few years. He should be fine in twenty-four hours.”

Stiles blinked at him. Scary ‘no sense of personal space’ dude was also kind of hot, if Stiles was being honest. And his eyebrows were a bit of a turn on. Stiles gaped at his own mind and shook his head, before glaring at him. Derek didn’t look impressed, though.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“He doesn’t recognize Derek,” Erica said, looking positively gleeful. “That’s gold.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, looking grumpy at that. “Stiles, what’s the last thing you remember? What year is it?”

“What year— what year is it? Dude, is this some kind of joke? Have I been pranked? Scott, I swear to god, this lost all it’s humor the second I woke up and realized sexy-brows wasn’t a gay-awakening dream.”

Derek straightened at that and Erica let out a bark of laughter. Scott looked a little horrified and Stiles swallowed hard, trying to ignore how hot his face was getting. He didn’t know this asshole, so why did it matter what he said?

“Stiles,” Scott said. “Do you remember sophomore year?”

“Fuck yeah, dude, we’re sophomores!”

“Oh my god,” Isaac said. “Stilinski, how old do you think you are?”

Stiles stared at him. Then he looked down at his hands and over the rest of his body. Everything seemed accurately proportioned. Except, he was a lot musclier than he remembered. Stiles rubbed a hand over his forehead and then yelped when he realized he had hair.

“Scott! My buzzcut!”

“Fuck,” Erica breathed, looking at him like Stiles was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. Then, she doubled over with laughter. “He thinks he’s sixteen!”

Thinks? Thinks?

Stiles looked from older-Scott, to grumpy sexy-brows, and then down at his hands again, and realized something was very wrong. Something was very wrong and Stiles had no idea what.

“Shit.”

-

“I’ll believe a lot of things,” Stiles said, pacing his room back and forth. “But werewolves are not one of them, Scott. I’m not an idiot. I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

Scott sat on the edge of his bed and looked anywhere but Stiles’s face. Narrowing his eyes, Stiles dropped into the chair at his desk and studied him.

“You’re hiding something from me. What are you hiding from me?”

“Werewolves were actually your idea in the first place,” Scott said carefully. “When I got bit.”

“I… what?”

“It was actually right,” Scott said. “But it took a few learning curves.”

“Learning curves? Dude! Have you killed anyone?”

“No, of course not!”

“Huh,” Stiles said, lacing his fingers together and resting them underneath his chin. “Show me, then. The whole werewolf thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Scotty, I have recently been told I am eighteen years old. Which means I’m a man. A man who can totally take whatever you about to— oh my god!”

Stiles leaped up, stumbling away from his chair as Scott’s face morphed to something grotesque and his eyes turned a vibrant shade of red. Fangs poked at his upper lip, his fingernails were claws, and there was no way that was right. Or real. This was a fever dream, it had to be.

“Stiles?” Scott said, voice warbled by his fangs. “Are you okay, man?”

“Y-yeah, man, I’m just… adjusting. I’m adjusting.”

Scott’s face turned back to normal, but Stiles couldn’t get that image from his head. He stayed in the corner and watched his best friend for a moment. If this was a fever dream, Scott couldn’t hurt him, right? Everything was going to be fine.

“So,” Stiles said, moving carefully back into his chair. “Does this mean I have yet to get with Lydia?”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah, dude, Lydia Martin. Strawberry-blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, literally everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

“Oh,” Scott said, wincing. “No.”

Stiles deflated. “Not even in five to ten years? What about my ten-year plan?”

“You’ve kinda ditched that,” Scott said. “For Derek.”

“For Derek?”

There was a sudden tap on his window and Stiles yelped, flailing out of his chair as he spotted the man crouched on the roof outside. Scott gave him a worried look and got up, crossing the room to pull it open. Stiles managed to push himself up right as Derek climbed in, giving him a judgemental looking eyebrow.

“What about me?”

“Oh my god, nothing,” Stiles said, retreating backward. “Absolutely nothing. Nothing about you or your sexy looking— your eyebrows.”

Derek stared at him. Scott laughed nervously and stepped between them. “Right, uh. Thanks for taking over, man.”

Derek just grunted. Stiles blinked at the two of them. 

“Wait, taking over? Taking over for what?”

“We’re supposed to watch over you,” Scott said. “In case something goes wrong. I would, but I’ve got a shift at Deaton’s. So Derek’s gonna do it.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, voice small. “Derek’s gonna do it. Of course, Derek’s gonna do it.”

Derek gave him an ‘is that a problem’ look and Stiles gulped, offering his best smile. The man only rolled his eyes and Scott patted him on the shoulder as he left. 

Stiles gazed after the boy, half-tempted to follow and maybe beg for mercy, but he was a grown man. He was eighteen years old, dammit, he was not afraid of some stubbled man and his freakishly good looks.

“So,” Stiles said, turning back around. “Babysitting duty, eh?”

“You’re not a baby,” Derek said. He picked up a magazine from Stiles’s desk— one on planting, which Stiles didn’t know why he had— and proceeded to lounge back in Stiles’s bed. He didn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, he almost seemed at home.

“So,” Stiles said, shuffling his feet. “We’re friends? Or something?”

“Or something.”

“But you like me,” Stiles pressed. Derek gave him a strange look and Stiles turned red. “I mean clearly, you have to kinda like me. If you’re here on babysitting duty.”

“Sure, Stiles.”

“That’s not very reassuring, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles sighed and sunk down into his desk chair. He watched Derek for a moment longer but the man seemed content to ignore him, so Stiles spun his chair around and fixed his attention on his laptop. He assumed there were a lot of things he’d missed. Like his favorite comics. Or movies! There had to be a few new movies.

“Dude!” Stiles screeched after a second of research. Derek startled so hard he nearly rolled off the side of the bed and Stiles spun around, tapping his computer screen in excitement. “There are three new Avengers movies out. Three!”

“Stiles, I swear to god—”

“We have to watch them!”

“You’re going to start remembering things in less than twenty-four hours. What’s the point?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “You’re so sour. This is my chance, dude, to re-experience all the things that bring me joy. Do you know what I would give to be able to read something like Harry Potter again without knowing what happens?”

“Then watch your movies,” Derek said, looking unimpressed. “You have about eight hours.”

“Do you… want to watch them with me?”

Derek looked at him in confusion. Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

“I mean, you don’t have too.”

Derek studied him for another few seconds. Then, silently, he nodded and Stiles grinned. He grabbed his laptop and a few snacks from his lowest drawer— where his future self continued hiding them, thank goodness— and then moved over to the bed, flopping down.

Derek was suddenly very close and very warm, and Stiles nearly shied back. But instead, he flipped his laptop open and offered over a roll of oreos.

Derek accepted them cautiously, like they were a bomb about to go off. Stiles rolled his eyes and clicked to the first movie.

And honestly, this could be worse. Maybe Derek wasn’t so bad.

Stiles’s future self must have readjusted his Lydia marriage plan for some reason.

- 

Stiles woke up when it was pitch black outside and his computer was disregarded on the mattress a few inches away. Blinking a few times, Stiles smacked his lips together, and then his eyes flew open. Memories came flooding back to him and he went shock-still.

Pressed up against his back, with one arm wrapped around his chest and face buried into his neck, Derek groaned. His breaths were warm against Stiles’s neck and after a moment, he shifted.

And then went still too.

“So,” Stiles said. “I don’t think I’m sixteen anymore.”

Derek pulled his face back, but didn’t remove his arm. In fact, his hold seemed to tighten. Stiles felt that make his stomach flip and closed his eyes, biting down hard on his tongue. Derek huffed.

“It’s pitch black and I can still see you blushing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stiles,” Derek said. He was quiet for a moment and then there was amusement in his voice. “You think my eyebrows are sexy.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, turning his face into the pillow. Leave it to his not-so-sixteen-year-old self to out him. Stiles hated everything sometimes. “To be fair, you have a very nice face, which I have told you on multiple occasions.”

“Usually, in the form of an insult.”

“Are you toying with me, Derek? Because that’s not very nice and I’ll remind you that we are in my bed and—” Stiles suddenly cut off, his face turning red again. “Never mind.”

Derek removed his arm and, after a second, Stiles flipped over to face him. Derek was smiling slightly and that expression so wasn’t fair. Stiles really shouldn’t be freaking out like this. They’d shared a bed before.

Granted, Stiles had either been drunk, running on three days of no sleep, or Derek was crashing after a long night of research. But the point was, it’d been done before. Derek kept his favorite magazines here, goddammit.

So maybe that was more telling than Stiles cared to admit.

“So,” he said. “We gonna talk about this?”

“The part where you think my eyebrows are sexy or the part where I’m your new Lydia ten-year plan?”

“Oh, you asshole!” Stiles said, kicking him in the leg. “Werewolves are not allowed to listen into personal conversations! I don’t care how good your stupid hearing is!”

“Sorry,” Derek said, but he didn’t look very sorry. In fact, he looked a little nervous. “So...”

“So.”

“Was I your gay-awakening dream?”

“I hate you.”

“Hm,” Derek said, leaning closer. Stiles’s breaths caught in his throat and Derek smirked cautiously. “Because if I wasn’t, am I allowed to be now?”

“Are you really— is this really— oh my god!”

Derek chuckled and Stiles pressed forward, catching his lips. This was nowhere near how he’d seen things going, but he’d had Derek on a ten-year plan. And, humming at the back of his throat as Derek growled, Stiles decided he was very okay with this. With not having to wait ten years, that was.

He’d blamed the witch for all of this at first.

He was very thankful now.

- -

This got away from me a little, but oh my god, two prompts? That was a challenge and I love everything about it. Thank you!

(Support your overcaffinated (so much so) student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[howtosurvivebeingsingle]

I Do, Do I?

If you follow my regular blog that I rarely post on, you'll know that my heterosexual roomie proposed to me. The thing is, we're both hetero females that decided that instead of getting married by 50 at the rate we're going, we may as well. The amount of benefits married couples get while they're still in college is ridiculous. We have friends that live a town away that are both married since they graduated high school and the amount of money they were able to save landed them a cozy four-bedroom house. Sounds too good to be true, and believe me I wish it were. I am still attending my local university myself trying to double major, as is my roommate. We both have multiple jobs to support our apartment but with expenses, we're borderline broke. There's enough to get by, that being said when classes start is where the trouble begins. Marriage is looking pretty tempting right now. Is it really all it's cracked out to be? Here are the details I've heard so far; You get generous financial aid meaning starving is less likely, Married life is less expensive which is less cost of living in an apartment or house, Mutual motivation from your spouse (depends but mine's fine), and it prepares you for what marriage is actually like.

In Short, my maybe wife and I will pay less for college, less for housing, have that emotional support most people lack, and get a taste of what being married to a man is like (sort of). The bargain is that if we actually go through with this, we'll still date men as we please and if we're in an actual relationship and the guy proposes we get a divorce. Imagine your maid of honor is your ex-wife? There's more humor to it. He picks you up for a date and she's watching tv. Before you go, "Bye Honey!", or she gets the door for you and introduces herself as your actual married wife. The situation is so complex that I'm actually near writing a book about it. Here's where I advertise my Finding Mr. Darcy book trilogy that's in the works. If there's one thing I know about, it's being single. I'm the Carrie Bradshaw of singles instead of sex, that is if I can even claim that title. I asked my friend if he thought being married had all the perks and he said this; "It's a pipedream trying to trap singles into thinking life is better with someone else. True as that last statement maybe, the rest is not. The idea is that after marriage it's time to settle down. You move into a cottage in the plains, wide-open spaces where all the little kids can run around. Your husband comes back from work and the two of you snuggle in bed without a care, it's bullshit. Girls and I mean girls are too high maintenance now that you've got to give them everything they want or it's no deal. Hell, you're even lucky to find a woman who actually wants to care for you as much as herself. Total pipedream, and waste in this century."

That was the first time I had ever heard him speak so hopelessly about love. I expected an answer like "No, true love is out there somewhere." as he often said, but this was not the case at all. Either he was in a really bad mood that day, or I don't know my best friend like I thought I did. The next day, I decided to take a look at married couples in the workplace, by workplace, I mean my job in digital services. From what I was seeing was a lot of arguing. Either the man would be on the computer and the woman was nagging on him the whole time or the woman was on the computer and the man was making her feel like she was stupid. If both parties were separate, the wife would call every ten minutes to ask meaningless questions, or the wife was present with two or more hyper kids. It was hard for them to get anything done with or without their spouse present. I also decided to take a look at single parents and the closest one was my sister. In 2019, she got pregnant with my nephew by her boyfriend Will. She had him in march of 2020, so he's about a year old and beginning to get used to his legs. When she's home, she's stressed from being home from work, and on her off days, she's stressed with her son's rambunctious behavior. Our mother watches him when she's working her ten-hour shifts and leaves the rest to her when she gets back. Pretty soon it'll just be my sister and her kid when mom moves down south of the US. Both can verify that he's quite the handful and with my experience, he is. That doesn't mean I love him any less, but my share of babysitting isn't any easier.

The situation is mutual whether you're married or not with kids. Stress with a side of stress and exhaustion. Putting kids aside, I've seen couples without kids like my maybe wife's other best friend. Things seem all prim and proper when they come to visit, but according to her, they still manage to argue almost on a daily. My coworkers feel the same way about marriage life even when I had explained my situation. They continued to urge me to take things into careful consideration before jumping head into marriage. I kept getting negative answers from people despite my search to find some hope for the situation. Then the question crossed my mind; despite the fairytale images given to us in childhood, is it really worth the trouble of getting married?

Julie: "It always ends in tears. Someone leaves, someone dies, or you get a divorce."

Varsha: "So long as they compliment you. You need support from both parties for it to work."

Denny: "It depends. You don't need a man or woman to support you all the way, you can do fine just being single. My wife and I are great, but I'd be just as fine alone."

Enzo: "No. All odds are against you in the long run. The woman finds someone else to bug and takes half of everything."

Annie: "It's more of a want than a need. The best thing is not to be pressured into it if you're not 100% into it."

Vinny: "Only if you're ready and trust each other all the way."

Marcus: "The question you should be asking is if friendship is worth it. That's what it really comes down to."

Lori: "It can be fulfilling despite the fear of failure."

The answers kept leading me in circles and in the end, I wound up back where I started. It was a total toss-up of whether you got heads or tails, but I wasn't about to give in that easily. I decided to take my venture to a baseball game on Friday and what I saw there nearly startled me. A couple of 65 years renewed their vows at the stadium. I started to think that maybe all it did take was a bit of compromise and despite half the negativity from my interview and friends there really is someone for everyone. Perhaps the divorced people just haven't found the right person just yet. Like my grandmother on my mother's side, she married four men before she met my grandfather and they've been together almost fifty years. I guess you could say it was a task of trial and error, but it worked out in the long run. Neither of them has ever had a reason to want to divorce. Before I leave questions unanswered, yes my grandfather too also had his share of divorces. The numbers don't seem to matter, only the fact that there really could be someone out there for everyone. A glimmer of hope to end this rather late and brief update. I wonder if there really is hope, is there still time for we singles of every shade and orientation. Is there truly that soulmate we all long for somewhere besides where we are? Until next time and Much Love Your Way Darlings!