#the story is really fucking funny actually

[dreamsy990]

TELEMACHUS AND ANTINOUS. FINALLY

[uceyliyahh]

MOON BOUND

summary: Kholë finds herself in an arranged marriage by her father after signing a contract, the more her and Jimmy hated each other the more they would fall for each other.

this fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good a writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment.

word count: 5.7k

Jimmy Uso x Khole

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @bookuce @bloodlineslut

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @hoisucooll @sheaabuttaababyy @formulafortyfour @fafomama @spiicii @zillasvilla

𝓣𝔀𝓸

𝕺𝖒𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 🤍

Kholë sat in the school cafeteria, enjoying her lunch before her final class of the day. Her mind, however, was preoccupied with the events of the previous night with Jimmy—the way their lips met and their tongues danced together left a lingering impression on her. She knew she needed to push that memory aside to avoid getting her hopes up about what he might offer her.

While enjoying her lunch, she noticed a text from her best friend Bianca, and a smile spread across her face as she read the message.

Binky💗 sent a message 

Binky💗: have you been avoiding that man?

She chuckle messaging her back

Klo🩵: yes I have I only said good morning to his brother and mother completely ignoring him he was stunned 

Binky💗: PLEASE Joshua was telling me about it at work today how you left Jimmy stunned for ignoring him

Klo🩵: I don’t need my feelings hurt or played with like some toy yk? Like worry about Trinity the women you love sooo much 😭 girl did I tell you I heard them fucking last night?

Binky💗: omg hello? Did you at least block the noise?

Klo🩵: yeah I did 😭😭

Binky💗: that’s good you finna be in your last class for today?

Klo🩵:  yeah then after that I head back over there my new home I guess why?

Binky💗: I was thinking about heading to the club tonight but I know you’re focusing on school and stuff 

Klo🩵: girl that don’t mean I can’t party!

Binky💗: you’re fucking funny 😭 but you want me to come get you or hubby is going to take you?

Klo🩵: ew don’t ever say that again okay? And he’s not gonna know anyways I’m not going to tell him where I’m going unless he force it out of me but you can come get me ion feel like driving there

Binky💗: alrighty girl I’ll come get you around eight tonight okay?

Klo🩵: kk bestie see you then

Binky💗: kk

Kholë glanced at her phone, realizing it was time to make her way to her final class of the day. As she tidied up the clutter on her table, tossing the remnants into the trash, she noticed someone approaching her. He was tall, sporting long dreadlocks, and wore a charming smile that brightened his face.

“Excuse me.” He said as Kholë looked up at him.

“Yes?” 

“I couldn’t help but to see a pretty girl like yourself all alone.” She smiled at him. “Oh I was just heading to my last class for today before heading home.” The home that she really didn’t want to go to due to her being married.

“What class are you taking? I can walk you down there.”

“Child development room 230.” 

“Actually we are right next to each other—let’s walk together.” Kholë gave a nod as she and he started walking side by side to their final class together.

As they engaged in conversation about their classes, they also took the opportunity to learn more about one another. Meanwhile, she felt an unsettling presence, as if someone was attempting to delve into her thoughts or convey a hidden message.

“Kholë get away from him.”

She attempted to shut out anyone attempting to engage her in conversation. It almost seemed like Jey was trying to reach out to her, despite her not being a werewolf, while she continued her dialogue with the guy.

“Kholë it’s Joshua, I’m telling you to get away from him he’s dangerous.”

What the fuck?

She gazed at the guy who was chatting with her, distracted by the fact that his teeth appeared sharper than hers. Once they arrived at her class, they embraced, and he inhaled her fragrance before stepping back.

“I’ll see you around Kholë.” Trick said softly before going inside of his classroom that was next to hers.

She entered her classroom and took a seat at the back, struggling to comprehend the recent events and the strange way Jey was connecting with her mentally. She felt different from the others.

There it was again someone trying to communicate with her through her mind.

“Kholë be careful driving home aight? I’ll be watching over you.”

At least Jey cares about her wellbeing or whatever the fuck was going on right now she will soon find out about it later on.

As Kholë finished her class, she gathered her belongings and retrieved her keys from her purse. Stepping out the door, she glanced around cautiously, ensuring that Trick or any unfriendly faces weren’t keeping an eye on her.

She suddenly heard footsteps approaching from behind, realizing it was Trick trailing her as she exited. A wave of unease washed over her, prompting her to quicken her pace in an effort to stay ahead of him.

Her heart pounded wildly as she reached her car, quickly unlocking the door and jumping inside. She slammed the door shut just in time, having spotted him attempting to open it. With urgency, she inserted her keys into the ignition, started the engine, and secured her seatbelt, all in one swift motion.

“Drive Kholë Now.”

As she drove out of the parking lot, following Jey's directions, she left Trick behind. Uncertain about what was happening or why he appeared threatening, she resolved to uncover the truth once she reached home.

Upon arriving home, she spotted Jey, Zilla, and Jimmy waiting for her in the driveway. As she stepped out of the car, she noticed Trick dashing toward her with incredible speed. Just then, Jimmy wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close as she looked up into his eyes.

“Trick you ain’t welcome over here dawg, so get the fuck on.” Jey warned him.

“C’mon boys, I just wanted to have a little taste of shawty. She smelt so good.” Trick replied while licking his lips.

“You ain’t tasting shit, so fuck off you’re trespassing the treaty rules.” Treaty rules? Is he not supposed to be here?

Trick cast one final glance at Kholë, offering her a smile as he departed. Meanwhile, Kholë dismounted from Jimmy and made her way into the house, attempting to process everything that had just unfolded.

She was filled with questions but hesitated to voice them. Instead, she planned to discuss everything with Bianca later that night before heading to the club together—fingers crossed that Jimmy would be asleep by then, allowing her to steer clear of him.

She took a drink from the fridge, pretending that the recent events hadn’t affected her, even though she was fully aware that they had. She chose to keep her feelings to herself.

“You good Kholë?” Jey asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She replied with a smile on her face.

“You sure? You don’t have to lie about it.” Kholë gave a slight nod to indicate that she was fine and planned to relax upstairs. With that, she ascended the stairs, making her way to her bedroom and closing the door softly behind her.

Jey and Zilla looked at each other.

“She’s lying, I could tell by her body language.”

“Yeah, especially when she’s around Jim it’s like she’s trying to avoid him or us as well.”

Jimmy had looked at Jey and Zilla joining in the conversation.

“What are yall talking about?”

“Kholë”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

They looked at each other again.

“Nah, she’s fine, that's all.”

“Mhm.”

Jey and Zilla understood the importance of keeping Kholë's emotions hidden from Jimmy, allowing her to steer clear of him and not disrupt his relationship with his girlfriend. To Jimmy, this marriage held little significance compared to Kholë's feelings. Jey had listened to her thoughts the previous night, and today he felt a deep sense of sympathy for her. However, he took solace in the fact that he could provide her with some comfort.

Kholë had just stepped out of the shower, a towel snugly wrapped around her as she settled onto her bed, allowing her skin to air dry. Her mind wandered back to the events that had unfolded just moments before.

It was as if she had stepped into a scene from a twilight film when that moment unfolded. A whirlwind of questions swirled in her mind about the earlier conversation—what agreement had been made against him, and why was he not accepted in this place?

A knock on the door broke her train of thought, and she looked up to see Jey—her favorite person—entering the room with his arms crossed.

“You know you should shut your mind off sometimes, Klo.” Jey said softly as she chuckled at him.

“I’m sorry I’m just an overthinker that’s all, I try to keep them closed off to avoid your brother.” She replied.

“I understand, I know you have a lot of questions about what happened so I’ll just tell you class in session!” Kholë chuckled at him as she had seen him taking a seat next to her.

Jey starts to clarify the agreement they have with the vampires—vampires? She was completely unaware of their presence here. This treaty, established ages ago, allows the vampires to remain in their designated territory while they seek out blood, ensuring that the werewolves can also inhabit their own space without any clashes between the two groups.

Should one party violate the treaty by encroaching on the other's territory, it could ignite a full-blown war between them. The only scenario in which they might unite is in the face of a significant threat, prompting them to collaborate.

He warned her that Trick was not someone she should associate with, referencing some troubling actions he had taken years earlier to join the vampire pack, though he chose not to elaborate on the specifics.

“That’s why I had to communicate with you through your mind because if you would’ve befriended him it would’ve been bad.” He said.

“I understand, Bianca didn’t tell me all of this.”

“Bianca is yo’ best friend?”

“Yeah, since we were like seven years old basically.”

He seemed shocked hearing that from her, “damn I didn’t know that I didn’t know she was talking about you at work.”

“Mhm, little old me but I need to put some clothes on if you don’t mind Joshua.” He gave a slight nod as he rose from the bed and made his way to the door, closing it softly behind him while Kholë started to change into something more comfortable.

She gained extensive knowledge about werewolves and vampires, but now it felt as though she had a bullseye on her back. With Trick aware of her location and the classroom she frequents, she needed to remain vigilant and constantly assess her surroundings.

Kholë completed her preparations and glanced at her phone, noting that it was nearly eight o'clock. She picked up her purse and house keys, making her way toward the door. As she stepped into the hallway, she noticed the TV was on downstairs. Curiosity piqued, she tiptoed down the stairs and peeked into the living room, where she spotted Jimmy engrossed in a show.

Shit—All that occupied her mind was the thought, and he caught wind of it, a smirk curling on his lips as he sipped his beer. Kholë had composed herself, donning a mask of bravery as she descended the stairs with assurance, deliberately avoiding his gaze as she entered the kitchen adjoining the living room.

He glanced over to check out her outfit, and wow, she was in a completely white ensemble that left little to the imagination, accentuating her curves. To top it off, she was perched on the counter, bent over, engrossed in her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen.

He finished the last gulp of his beer and set the glass down on the table before he began to speak.

“Where you goin?” Jimmy asked.

“I’m just going out with my best friend Bianca, I’ll make sure I’ll be back home if you care or not.” She responded.

He was startled by her words, his brow furrowing as he thought, What the hell? I actually care about you. Watching her lean over the counter stirred something within him.

“You wanna fix your posture?”

She looked at how she was standing only forming a playful smile on her face, “what I’m just bent over does that bother you?”

“Yeah it does.”

“Come fix it then.” He leaped over the couch without a moment's pause, moving swiftly in her direction. As he positioned himself behind her, he grasped her hips, drawing her nearer until their bodies were flush against one another, their faces mere inches apart. His hand encircled her throat, adding an intensity to the moment.

Their eyes locked, hers reflecting the warmth of his chocolate brown gaze as he held her stare.

“Don’t provoke me.” His voice became low and gravelly.

“Or what?—what’chu finna do about it?” He gently held her face, pressing his lips against hers as they dove into a passionate kiss. It was a slow, intense embrace that had a raw edge to it, and she found herself enjoying every moment.

Their tongues intertwined playfully while she sensed his firm arousal pressing against her backside. She hadn’t anticipated finding herself in this situation with him once more tonight—this was precisely what she had been trying to steer clear of.

He kisses her lips gently several times before they part, both gazing at her blushing face, which makes him chuckle. He truly admires her from head to toe, savoring the moment as he licks his lips.

“Make sure, you come home you hear me.” Jimmy says as he places a kiss on her forehead.

Kholë acknowledged the notification on her phone that indicated Bianca had arrived to pick her up. She quickly snatched her purse and keys, stepping out the door with the awareness that Jimmy was observing her. The moment she left the house, he started communicating telepathically with his twin and cousin.

“We need to keep an eye on Kholë tonight.”

“Where is she going?”

“Out with Bianca tonight we need to keep an eye on her just in case Trick shows up—he knows her scent very well.”

“Looks like someone cares for Kholë”

“Shut the fuck up and let’s go.”

Jimmy slipped on his shoes, snatched his car keys, and made his way to the door.

Kholë and Bianca were having a blast at the club, dancing closely and enjoying a few drinks together. Kholë preferred to keep her drinking in check, so she only had a couple of shots to feel a little tipsy.

While they twirled together on the dance floor, Bianca leaned in and mentioned that she needed to step away for a moment to use the restroom. Kholë nodded in understanding and kept dancing solo, lost in her own rhythm.

As she completed her movement, a hand rested on her waist, releasing a familiar fragrance that engulfed her senses like a raging fire. Turning around, she was met with Trick's smirking face—the very same guy from her college, now dancing with her.

Her heart raced wildly, desperate to escape his hold, yet he effortlessly drew her back against his chest—his tongue teasing her earlobes, sending delightful shivers coursing down her spine.

“Well, well. What do we have here hm?” Trick said softly.

“P-please don’t hurt me.” She begged.

“I won’t hurt you princess just keep doing your thing on me, I wanna see how long it takes for your husband to come save you from me.” Unaware that Trick was lurking behind her, she kept up her game of make-believe, convinced that Jimmy wouldn’t show up at all. She thought he was indifferent to her plight, leaving her to face the threat of this damn vampire alone.

While she danced, her body moving in sync with his as his hands rested on her hips, she sensed someone attempting to reach out to her amidst the music playing in the background.

“Klo, get the fuck off of him.”

It was Jimmy attempting to reach her mentally, similar to how Jey had done earlier that day. She informed Trick that she needed to locate her best friend to ensure her safety. After accomplishing that, she successfully escaped from him, prompting Trick to notice and pursue her.

Fear gripped her as she worried for her safety, praying that this wouldn’t lead to any turmoil within the family, especially as she felt Jimmy’s presence drawing near once more.

“Go outside, we got Bianca.”

She dashed out the door, carefully scanning her surroundings after noticing two cars arrive in the parking lot. It was Jey and Zilla, with Jimmy emerging from their vehicles, as she hurried over to join Jey and Zilla.

Trick emerged from the shadows, his fangs glistening as he surveyed the surroundings for Kholë. Upon spotting her with the others, a sly smirk crept across his face.

“Again? C’mon we were just having fun.” Trick says.

“Get goin Trick, we ain’t finna play with yo’ ass.” Zilla spat.

“I mean she does have a nice body and that outfit just caught my attention—I’m surprised to see her husband is here didn’t think he would come to rescue her when he’s at home fucking his girlfriend.” At that moment, Jimmy felt the urge to charge at him and land a solid punch right in his face, but Jey intervened just in time to prevent him from doing so.

Jey shook his head while giving Trick a death stare, “leave Trick before things get ugly around here.” With that Trick threw his hands up, surrendering as he blew a kiss towards Kholë before leaving off in the distance.

Kholë's mind was consumed by thoughts of Bianca, especially after spotting her slumped in the back seat of the car. Just as she was about to speak, she felt Jimmy tugging at her arm, leading her toward his vehicle. He appeared quite upset with her, but she couldn't understand why.

“What the fuck is yo’ problem Klo?” Jimmy asked.

“My problem? I don’t have a fucking problem.” She replied.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “oh so you dancing on a fucking vampire wasn’t the fucking problem Klo?” She scoffed, not understanding why he was so triggered by this when this marriage didn’t mean anything to him. “Why do you care? Aren’t you the same nigga that said that this marriage didn’t mean anything?”

“When it comes to your safety I have to protect you Klo that’s my job.” His responsibility—his damn responsibility—was to keep her safe. But what about loving her in the same way he loved his girlfriend?

“Yeah, your fucking job—actually I don’t know why we are even speaking to each other.” Kholë struggled to break free from his hold, but he pressed her against his car, growing increasingly irritated by her sharp comments.

He was staring into her eyes intensely, “fucking relax with this damn attitude Mama.” 

“No im not because don’t fucking stand there and pretend like you fucking care because you don’t Jon.” He was surprised to witness this emotional side of her, revealing feelings she had suppressed to maintain her composure.

He held onto her waist with both of his hands, “I do care about you Klo.”

“Actions speak louder than words Jon take me home I’m done talking to you about this.” She pushed him off of her until he pinned her again but this time with more force. “Watch it Klo why do you have to be this difficult? I don’t have to deal with this with Trinity.” He drew a comparison between her and his girlfriend, which struck a nerve. She realized that her past relationship was being measured against someone challenging, a standard she never intended to embody.

She nodded her head while chuckling, “you know what I fucking hate you.”

“What? Say that again?”

“You heard me nigga, I fucking hate you I don’t mean to be difficult because I don’t need my feelings to be played with but unlike you—you don’t care comparing me to your girlfriend is crazy.”

A stirring sensation welled up inside him at her words, igniting a spark of desire he hadn't anticipated.

“Say it again.”

“I fucking hate you bitch ass nigga what more do you want me to say you fucking piece of shit.” Jey and Zilla kept a close watch on their dynamic, exchanging glances as they connected through their minds.

“You see this shit?”

“Yeah, he finna shut her up in a few seconds.”

“Let’s just see how this will unfold.”

Jimmy leaned in, their noses nearly touching, while his hands remained firmly on her waist. “mhm say that shit again mama.”

“Get away from me I’m not doing this with you anymore I fucking hate you so much Jon I fucking hat—“ In that moment, he seized her by the throat, pressing his lips against hers as they lost themselves in a fervent kiss, silencing her instantly.

The kiss unfolded slowly and deliberately as he drew her closer, deepening their connection with his tongue exploring her mouth. Despite her attempts to resist, he skillfully intertwined his fingers with hers, holding her firmly against his car.

“You hate me baby?” He murmured between the kiss as his hands were roaming around her body.

“I-I do…I fucking hate you..so much…” her voice barely rising above a whisper, mingled with a soft moan.

He gently grasped both of her curves, trailing his lips along her jawline as he felt her shiver beneath his caress.

“you saying you hate me but I got yo’ ass in chokehold…tell me you hate me…say it..”

It felt like she was losing her mind with him touching on her like this.

“J-Jimmy….wait…fuck…”

He positioned her exactly where he wanted, successfully opening the car door and guiding her into the backseat while casting a glance at his twin brother and Zilla.

“Go ahead and take Bianca home. I'm finna handle her and take us home.”

“A’ight then c’mon Zilla.”

Jimmy forcefully closed the door behind him, pulling her onto his lap as she straddled him, her arms encircling his neck while he showered kisses along her neck.

“You gon’ act right when I’m done.”

“Fuck you like I just hate yo’ ass so much…fuck.” 

“Mhm, keep saying it imma fuck you.”

In that moment, her eyes grew wide at his words, unaware that she was still a virgin. Gently, she pushed him away and said, “Please take us home.” He noticed a complete shift in her demeanor as she rose from his lap, making her way to the passenger seat. Once settled in, she fastened her seatbelt, ready for him to drive them home.

He approached the driver's seat, inserted the keys into the ignition, and started the engine. As he backed the car out, he stole a quick glance at her, but she didn’t look his way. Shifting into drive, he navigated the road home.

Kholë sat alone in her room, distancing herself from everyone as she attempted to shut out the memories of the night she had just experienced with Jimmy. He was as captivating and perilous as Bianca had warned her he would be.

The way he kissed her to silence her ignited a fire within her, even though she was a virgin and unaware of the depths she was diving into with him—his experience far surpassed her own. The mere thought of being near him in this way filled her with a mix of excitement and fear.

Particularly when he drew comparisons between her and his girlfriend, it struck a nerve with her, even though he was completely unaware of the impact. She never intended to react this way; all she desired was a bit of his attention. However, it was clear that his affections were directed more towards his girlfriend, leaving her to grapple with the painful realization that their marriage held little significance for him.

She heard a knock at the door just as Jey peeked his head in, but she didn’t notice him since her back was turned.

“Hey, we all wanted to watch a movie together if you were down.” Jey said softly.

Kholë brushed away the tears streaming down her cheeks while gazing at Jey, who stood patiently awaiting her response.

“Sure I don’t mind.” She replied softly while sniffing her nose as she got up from the bed.

Jey caught the sound of a sniffle, suspecting that she had been in tears. He noticed how her energy transformed into a strained smile, as if to prevent anyone from probing into her troubles.

“Kholë you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He reassured her.

“It’s fine Joshua let’s go.” As she swept by him and made her way downstairs, she noticed the living room was shrouded in darkness, save for the glow of the stove light. Jey trailed closely behind her, and all eyes were on them as they descended the steps, including Jimmy, who was nestled comfortably with Trinity.

She plastered a phony smile across her face as she picked up the blanket and pillow beside her, preparing to settle onto the couch to enjoy the movie.

Jimmy observed her closely, noticing how her energy could change from vibrant to somber in an instant. He sensed that something was amiss, particularly in light of their recent encounter.

“How about we choose Kholë to pick out the movie for tonight.” Mama Talisua said.

“No no it’s fine you guys can pick whatever.” She replied.

“Please you’re part of the family now honey,” Kholë grabbed the remote from her hands as she began picking out a movie for them to watch, “y’all like scary movies?”

Everyone nodded in agreement as she selected a horror film for their viewing pleasure, choosing "It's What Inside," which had just been added to Netflix. Since none of them had seen it before, excitement filled the air. She set the remote down on the glass table and made her way back to the couch, cozying up by herself under a warm blanket.

While the film flickered on the television, Kholë caught sight of Jimmy stealing occasional glances her way. However, she chose to overlook it, as it held little significance for her—especially when he should be more concerned about his girlfriend clinging to him.

He decided to mind-link with his twin to get some information.

“Yo’ do you know what’s wrong with Klo?”

Jey had made eye contact with his twin.

“She hasn’t said anything to me since y’all came back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah? It seems like to me you starting to care about her.”

“No I don’t.”

“If you didn’t you wouldn’t be asking me what’s wrong with her in the first place dummy.”

Jimmy looked at his twin brother giving him a stank face while rolling his eyes.

“Just go talk to her for a second just to see where her mind is at. It's not that hard Uce.”

Jimmy stared down at Kholë who was watching a movie not even looking his way—so he tried to get through to her by her thoughts.

“Mamas come holla at me for a min.”

She attempted to shut out whatever he was trying to communicate, knowing she didn’t want to be near him after admitting her hatred for him—but he wasn’t about to let her slip away.

“Just for a second please.” She cast a glance at him, letting out a deep sigh and rolling her eyes. Grabbing the blanket, she made her way to a spare room, seeking some privacy, while he assured Trinity that he would return shortly.

She settled onto the bed, the blanket cocooning her as she watched him enter the spare room, closing the door softly behind him. He paused in front of her, and she averted her gaze, enveloped by the stillness that filled the room.

He settled beside her on the bed, leaning in close in hopes of catching a glimpse of her smile—she recognized that he was merely putting on an act to pry some information from her.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asked.

“You.” He replied.

She sighed softly—here he goes again. “What about me Jonathan?”

“Why you actin’ like this? Ever since we came back home you’ve been actin funny.”

“You don’t care so it shouldn’t matter what’s going on with me—look just head back to Trinity I don’t need her trippin’” Just as she was preparing to rise from the bed, he gently tugged her back onto his lap, holding her there.

“You not finna keep runnin’ away from me Klo.”

She gazed down at him as he looked up, studying her face intently and observing the signs of her tears, evident in her swollen, red eyes.

“I’m not running from nothing, don't act like you know me.”

He scoffed at her comment, “ I know you enough that you’re very stubborn and need to stop actin like brat.”

“I’m not acting like a brat, I just don’t wanna be near you.”

“Why baby?” His voice lowered several octaves as he spoke.

Kholë rolled her eyes at him, “don’t do that Jimmy.”

“Do what mama?”

“Talk to me like this…” A sense of unease washed over her as she rubbed her thighs together, a habit that surfaced whenever she felt a peculiar sensation in that intimate area. There was something about him and his deep voice that stirred emotions within her, leaving her unable to articulate the effect he had on her. “Talk to you like what? I’m just talking to you baby.”

She didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on her.

“Stop it Jimmy…are we here to talk or not? We are missing half of the movie.” Kholë said as Jimmy smacked his teeth at her.

“Fuck that movie it’s just me and you, I’m tryna see what’s wrong with you.”

“What you said earlier was uncalled for and it triggered me.” Suddenly, it happened—she finally found the words to express what had been troubling her all along.

“Maybe if you didn’t act like a brat I wouldn’t have said it.” Once again, he tossed out that brat word, clearly aiming to provoke her. However, she maintained her calm, determined not to lose her cool in front of his family.

“I'm not a brat.”

“You’re a brat even if you don’t admit to being one.” Kholë let out a heavy sigh, realizing that their discussion was at a standstill. She stood up from his lap, taking her blanket with her, but as she turned to leave, she felt him pull her back, along with the blanket.

He pressed her gently onto the bed, intertwining his fingers with hers as he positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked onto her captivating hazel eyes.

“Where you goin?” He questioned her.

“I’m leaving Jimmy, this conversation isn’t going anywhere. I wasted my time talking with you.” Kholë responded, attempting to shove him aside, fully aware of his superior strength.

“We ain’t done though mama.”

“Jimmy please this conversation is done there’s nothing much to say.” Jimmy appreciated her appearance at that moment, with her positioned beneath him, allowing him to admire her beautiful face more closely. “You look pretty all worked up over me.”

She scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself Mr Fatu.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft, damp kiss against her neck, making her gasp at the unexpected sensation.

“You talk shit but I be having you like this.” Jimmy plants another kiss on her neck.

“I-it was just a sudden reaction.” Her words faltered as she met his intense gaze, a wave of nervousness washing over her. “Nah, you do this all the time when I kiss you on your neck especially when you wrap your arms around my neck yearning for sum more.”

How is it that he can understand her so effortlessly? Deep down, he realizes that she appreciates his warmth, yet he reserves that tenderness for Trinity.

“Do I need to remind you? That this right here doesn’t mean anything to you? Stop toying with me and leave me alone.”

He was completely absorbed in the moment, his lips trailing kisses along her neck as he observed her yield to his caress. In an instant, she fell silent, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I fucking hate you Jimmy…”

“Mhm, I know you do, mama. You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I will and I can, I don't matter to you…” He halted in his tracks, captivated by her gaze as she uttered those words. It was he who had insisted that their marriage lacked meaning, claiming he was only helping her father.

“What? Cat got yo’ tongue? If this conversation is over with, I'll be heading out.” She shoved him away and quickly grabbed her blanket, making her way to the door. But before she could escape, he seized her by the throat, catching her off guard and pulling her face nearer to his.

“You’re such a fucking brat Kholë.”

She smirked at him seeing him all worked up, “and you’re just a bitch ass nigga” He lifted her by the thighs, carrying her back to the bed. As he pinned her down, her legs encircled his waist. He tugged her shirt upward, revealing her breasts, and began to kiss and suck on them.

A side of him she had never encountered emerged, his frustration evident due to her mischievous behavior. She let out a quiet moan as she tugged at his hair, pulling him away.

“I’m a bitch Kholë?” Jimmy says

“Yeah, you most definitely are a little bitch. You can’t handle me, that's why you got her.” Kholë responded.

Just as he was about to proceed, a knock on the door interrupted them, bringing their actions to a standstill.

“Uce! Y’all good in there?” Jey asked behind the door.

“Yeah, we're good , we'll be out in a few minutes.” Jimmy shot Kholë a fierce glare, but she merely smiled at him with feigned innocence, as if she hadn’t just riled him up and provoked him moments earlier.

Kholë adjusted her outfit and hair while he mirrored her actions, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a gentle kiss on her lips. He continued to shower her with kisses, determined not to let her escape so easily after the events of the night.

“This ain’t over Klo.”

“Oh it is over Jimmy.” 

MOON BOUND

uceyjucey, biancabelairwwe, jonathanfatu, and others liked your post.

kholëbabes: a nigga can’t handle me💋😘

uceyjucey: oh? @ jonathanfatu

biancabelairwwe: perioddd tell em again bestie

kholëbabes: @ biancabelairwwe A NIGGA CANT HANDLE ME

jonathanfatu: you tryna be fucking funny huh Klo?

kholëbabes: @ jonathanfatu don’t know whatchu mean sir

jonathanfatu: @ kholëbabes keep fucking playing with me Klo

read all comments.

a/n: welllll things are getting spicy between the two don’t yall love toxic shit 🫠 anyways what do yall think will happen between Kholë and Jimmy?

but I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below ⬇️ 

STAY UCEY

[othernaut]

Also, through their grimdark training (plus years of compacted trauma), they're the only ones able to perceive the massive, horrifying inequalities in the cuddles and smile dimension.

"Wait, how long has King Sunshine ruled? How long does his species usually have? You... you have a "hug festival" every year, where everyone donates their hugs, because they love him? What the fuck. What the fuck."

"So the Lump-Rock Bugs work in the quarries and mines and sing about it, apparently. Has anyone actually noted the lyrics? The whole 'work all day, work all night, work in the dark, work in the light, work with our hands and our feetses too, there's nothing Lump-Rock Bugs won't do' thing? Has anyone ever... oh, they just love work? They want to do it because that's what they're for? No one ever looked at this critically? No one?"

"So I noticed that No-Fun Nora wasn't at the jelly-jam jamboree last night. Is she okay? Oh shit, really? What's the diagnosis? Wait, hang on, not wanting to be touched is considered a mental disorder here? What's the treatment? Hug therapy?! Where the fuck'd I leave my thieves' tools."

"So, funny story. I woke up today to find just a full-ass dude in my kitchen. Turns out the Dirty Word Detectives can just do that, y'now, let themselves into your house if they suspect you've been saying fuckwords. Also go through your mail. And no one thinks that's weird. So, y'now. Something to think about."

"Did any of you just have any weird dreams? Reminding you the hug festival was coming up? Yeah, so apparently there's a dream wizard who makes sure everyone has good dreams. Also apparently, he receives two chests of golden fairy apples from King Sunshine before every hug festival. And I know his f---ing address."

"So it took me a while to dig up - the librarian kept bursting into song about how 'you've got friends at the library' or something - but the only legal successor to King Sunshine was Princess Marmalade, and she was married off to Prince Starlight about seven years ago. Except I compared the dates and, apparently, she was 13 years old at the time. She stopped sending letters two years ago because she was 'too busy being in love'. Gas up the Teleportation Circle, we can't let this sit."

Reverse ravenloft, characters from a grim nightmare world are good enough to be sucked to the cuddles and smile dimension

[thevoidscreams]

Hi!! I'm a recent lurker and love how u write stuff. Hope I'm on time for the mating press march (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

You're a perpetual who had been accidentally stuck inside the Warp until one day u manage to see a bunch of babies getting yeeted through the Warp (wtf?). U aren't evil so of course u aren't going to leave a bunch of cute babies getting hauled and probably corrupted by the 4 freaks that reside in that awful place. U go collecting kiddos as if they were pokemons (u only manage to get a few of them, not all) and decide to rise them because why the fuck no? Fast forward, some asshole comes claming to be the father of your sons and that he will take them. A fight breaks at first but somehow you both end up fucking to an inch of your life and this emperor guy has decided that the best solution to this problem is that you become his consort... You're actually pretty okay with that.

Have a wonderful day! ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

I had a few ideas for this but I'm only doing one so, I hope it pleases the masses. Reader is a perpetual from the modern day and there are references to such. Also I wanted this one to have some bits of comedy as it just helped the story flow a bit better. Also this WILL have some grim dark elements.

Smut isn't the focus of this piece.

Day 28 Year 2: Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, implied cannibalism, violence, implied sex Word count: 5599

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to piss off a minor warp god in college? Sure it'd been funny, really fucking funny, but now you were here, and here wasn't where you wanted to be.

Here was the warp, and your ass was spending eternity in it because of a rickroll gone wrong. Lesson learned though, don't bong a fifth and do stupid rituals written in tomes bound in suspicious leather in the woods.

You'd made it out in considerably better shape then your friends. That part did still haunt you. The crackling of bones, and the wet tearing of flesh.

Not that you thought any of that bullshit was real until then.

Well, hindsight is 20/20 as they say.

The worst part of being trapped in.. hell? Purgatory? The warp? It didn't matter this place sucked wholesale ass, but the worst part aside from the boredom was the things that skittered about out here. You'd gotten pretty good at dodging them and figuring out how to move around in this place. But it was like the deep trenches of the oceans on earth. One minute, nothing, the next second? Boom giant ass squid, ready to eat your face and nibble the bones.

If only you could find a way out. There was a terrible crack, like thunder but longer and deeper.

Then lights erupted in the distance, subtle at first but then brighter and hotter as they drew closer. Some instinctual part of you knew that you had to get to them. To catch the pods as they rocketed towards you. Creatures like living nightmares clawed at the capsules, trying to pry free whatever prize was inside the metal and glass.

Deamons. That did it. You swam through the currents faster than you ever had. your body collided with one. The many limb form was jarred loose, claws screeching as it scrambled for purchase, its grotesque from falling free. A second slithered around the side only to be met with a foot to the face. As it leapt from the capsule you finally had a chance to glance down through the frost caked glass and into the eyes of a tiny person. A child. You pushed the capsule through the tides, knocking into two more, crushing one of the daemons and sending the others hurtling from the smooth metal surfaces. The three you'd pushed together were sadly the only ones you'd managed. The others had been pulled away by other currents and had vanished. There was a pulling, almost sucking sensation on your skin as the waters of the immaterial plane parted and suddenly you were weightless in a new way. And deathly cold, colder than you ever had been. The zero pressure of space around you was a pain you had never known, not before and hopefully never again.

Then you were falling. Holding onto the capsule you fell down down down, through the atmosphere of a world, your skin popped and boiled on reentry, cooking part of your back. Then it was mercifully over, until it wasn't. You woke up in a fresh set of clothes, clean and alive. What remained of your old body was a half cooked, half splattered mess. "Yeesh." You groaned to no one in particular, then it all came back to you. The pods. The kids. You ran for what looked like the crash sight. The earth around them was badly damaged. But you hurried through the debris to find them. The first you found was the one you'd been riding. On it's front the Roman numerals XII. Twelve, you realized, How ever many of the pods there had been this one was number twelve. You searched for a way to open it, but you didn't need to. It opened with a hiss of freezing air and out stumbled the boy. BArely more than a toddler, yet he stood with purpose. A compossure and understanding of what was around him to an almost unnerving degree. "Hello." You spoke softly, taking a knee before him. You pulled off your light over coat and laced it around him to cover his naked form. 'Oh god please let him be a Superman and not a Zod.' You worried, looking at the pod he'd been in. "You got siblings?" You asked and he turned looking in the direction of what appeared to be another crash. He began to toddle that way and you walked beside him, offering him your hand. He took it and you walked together to the two other crash sights. There you gathered, number four and number fourteen. You were glad your weird ability allowed you to come back with your clothes, or else you would have had to trek around with three naked babies. And that wasn't ideal.

"Okay you three... now what?" You looked up to the darkening sky. Damn did you really not pay attention in astronomy class or what? The stars here looked all wrong and your sense of direction was totally fucked.

So you headed for what looked like a mountain. With no signs of civilization in sight you would just have to find somewhere and hope that the night wasn't too cold. WIth a cave located you settled the boys down. Using branches and some kind of moss to make makeshift beds. "Okay, you all stay here. I am going to go grab some of that fire out there, and hopefully bring it in here." They looked at you and nodded. Well they understood you and that was good. The trip back down the shallow slope wasn't too hard, but it might become harder the longer you're here. Finding fire wasn't the hard part. The impact has set trees on fire and they still smoldered. The problem was getting it back to the cave. You found a good stick, setting it into the flames only half way till it burned with fire at the end. "Nice." You trekked back up the mountain using the impromptu torch to light the way. When you got back however, the three were sitting around a fire. They turned to look as you approached. "Oh..okay." You came closer to them and set the large branch into the flames. "So more fire for the fire I guess." You sat a few feet away from it looking at the odd children. They looked at you expectantly. You felt responsible for them, and there was something clearly unique about the boys. You needed to take care of them. How you would do that you weren't sure. But you'd have to get it figured out. The press of small warm bodies startled you for a moment, they were all pressed against you, and you opened your arms to let them in closer. First things first you supposed they'd need names.That first week went by in a blur and the kids were already bigger. Perturabo, as he'd taken to calling himself, was already analyzing the world around him as if he had been alive for centuries longer than he had. Maybe it was the fact that you'd cut yourself and they all gathered around to sample your blood which had freaked you out terribly. Yet that was when they'd begun to speak in fragmented sentences.

Though the fact that they could speak more didn't shock you, it was how fast they were growing. Food on the mountain side was scarce, small rodent animals skittered among the crags and stones but they were far too fast to catch by hand. If only the girl scouts taught rope tying like the boy scouts you thought wistfully. Maybe you could have made a snare.

Perturabo had also begun calling his brothers by new names. Given that none you tried felt right for these clearly non average humans.

Mortarion had brought back plants. "Eat these." You took them, placing them on a stone by the fire. "Thank you Mortarion, you did a good job finding these." You praised and he smiled. "Thank you mama." He darted off to look for more before you could correct him, did you even want to correct him?

A week later the first storm hit. The kids were as tall as your waist in height. And seemingly

growing by the minute. A thick layer of snow washed over the mountain. You shivered, the cold could kill, but the fire wood gathered did help. Angron pressed his face into your side. Every time he touched you it seemed that some ache or pain evaporated and your worries eased. The plants you'd gathered were running out. There was enough for a day, but with how hungry they were, it would be hard to keep them satisfied. You looked down at your own hands. Then to the knife of flint Perturabo had made you. They looked hungry.. you would come back, with more clothes and.. and you were a sizable chunk of calories. They looked at you, and the twisted knowledge of what you had to do for your boys set in. You would come back.

You knelt before them on their now remade 'beds'. "Boys, I have to do something, and I know it will be upsetting to see, but I need you to trust me." The storm howled outside the cave. It hadn't let up. "You're going to hurt yourself." Perturabo surmised and you nodded. His face scrunched and there was a look of quiet grief in his eyes. "I won't be gone long. I promise." You stood and Mortarion took your hand, then Angron. "No." they whispered quietly. You smiled sadly. "We need to eat." It was all you said before pulling away and heading for the back of the cave. They should have to see this. You tossed some of the bones onto the fire. They popped and crackled as the water in them evaporated. You still felt shaky about the meat incident as you called it. But your boys looked full and they had energy. You took the old clothes and tried as best as you could to outfit their ever growing bodies. It wouldn't be enough. The winds died down first and the sun came out for the first time in over two weeks. Many more bones piled in the cave, and your skulls had made for fine cups to melt the snow into water. It had been a month and the boys who had started as hardly more than infants were now old enough to be squabbling. "Boys, that's enough. We need to go. Gather your stuff." They did as you bid, hurrying to gather what few belongings they had. Perturabo was at the front. "The south is that way." He pointed. You let him take the front, as he seemed to know where he was going. Occasionally he'd look up to the sky and mutter but you never saw anything. After hours of hiking you stopped. They looked at you and you shook your head. "Rest." You told them. It was mid afternoon by the look of the sun. The woods around you were coming alive. It was full of alien bird song and despite the snow. It was lovely. You rested your head back against a tree and Angron hugged you. You wrapped an arm around him. They were calm, listening and then there was a snuffling. You picked up your head but the boys were already alert. Facing the sound. An animal, something like a boar but with longer legs strolled from the snowy brush. It turned its eyes in your direction. Parting jaws full of conical teeth. It seemed to find the idea of you worth the trouble. It charged. You were ready to bolt, but sweet Mortarion was the first to move. He fisted a rock up from the ground and brought it down right over the animal's eye. It wheeled, screaming as it made to charge him. Angron came in next. Swinging his clenched fist into the knee of its back left leg. It went down with a hearty crunch and another high pitched whistling scream. Perturabo joined the fray, the flint blade he'd made cutting down through its neck and it dropped. The boys shouted, hooting and whooping as they stood over the slain beast. You were staring in shock. They were only children.. but they weren't only human. You remembered. Mortarion and Angron seemed the most delighted. "Look mama, we killed it. Now you won't have to hurt yourself so we can eat. It's okay."

The boy's words were like a hot knife to the gut. Tears stung your eyes and they all looked confused. They came to you, arms open to embrace you. "It's okay boys I'm okay. You all did such a good job, I'm proud of you." In truth you weren't and hadn't been for a long time, but that didn't matter now. You had your boys and that was enough, you would care for them no matter what. The pig thing lasted only two days. Your kids were still growing. Soon the clothes you'd provided wouldn't be big enough.

It was then you found salvation. A town, sizable to be sure. There would be things here for you to better dress your boys. But.. you didn't have money.

The words you read on posters looked so frustratingly familiar but there was nothing you understood. Perturabo stepped up beside you, seeming to get that it was a job board. He knew that from the memories he had of your life before. He and his brothers had come to understand your life up until now after consuming so much of you, including your brain. You stayed staring at the board as if it would give up its secrets to you. Perturabo gathered Angron and Mortarion. "We need money but none of us speak this language. I can read it, kind of, but mom cannot." "What do you suggest?" Mortarion asked his brother. "We need to learn this language." It was all he said, but the understanding was immediate.

When you turned with a frustrated sigh you expected to see your boys. But all that met you was an empty alleyway and the quiet of the night. "Boys?" You called softly, surely they had to be nearby. Panic gripped your heart as the only reply you got was silence and more darkness. "Boys!?" You called again and began to search frantically. The three could hear you and it hurt to ignore your call. They took the opportunity to find someone suitable. Someone no one would miss. And they found it in the form of a ganger alone in an alleyway, nothing to light his figure in the dark but the burning of a foul smelling stick between his lips. You nearly collapsed with relief when you saw Mortarion and grabbed him. He looked upset about something but you just knelt by him and held his face in your hands. "Mortarion, where were you? Where are the others?" Tears streaked down your cheeks and warm arms embraced you from behind, Angron was hugging you. "We're sorry mama. It won't happen again." Perturabo was the last to appear. You hugged them all so tight.

"Don't ever run off like that again, okay?" They nodded. And you found a tavern that seemed to have rooms. Mortarion put a wad of something in your hand and you gasped. It was money. "Did you steal this?" You asked him and he nodded. "You shouldn't steal." You told him but he didn't feel as remorseful as he pretended to be.

"Still it should get us a room.. I hope." You pushed through the doors. It was like some odd blend between a tavern of old and a motel. The bartender? Clerk? Looked up at you then down at your clothes and then to the three children with you all dressed the same.

He said something but you didn't understand it. Perturabo took your hand. "He wants to know if he can help us with something." At this point you didn't question it. "Yes. We need a room. And I would like to know if he's got any positions open for work. Just until we can get our feet under us."

Perturabo relayed the message and the clerk looked at a screen typing something. He spoke to Perturabo who nodded.

You stepped up to the counter and the man looked you over. You must look terrible. "He says they need a general cleaner and that you may work for room and board. But if we want to stay longer than that he knows a better place to do so." "How about we just start with a room for tonight. And the job tomorrow."

The bar clerk, as you took to calling him, got you a key to a room with a few beds and he took what cash you owed him. Which wasn't as much of your cash stash as you assumed. The first thing you did was bathe and instructed the boys to do so as well. Then you slept. Like a rock. With all three of your boys piled on your bed. When you woke the next afternoon you stumbled down to the lobby and found that the man from the night before had been replaced by an older woman. She had a motherly sense about her and she smiled. She motioned you forward and took out a box of old clothes for the boys. And a few pieces for you as well. Perturabo translated that they were 'hand me downs' from her own sons including the one you'd met the night before. And the woman's clothes were from her daughter who no longer wanted the pieces.

It was such a thoughtful gift you teared up and she shushed you and gave the four of you breakfast.

That was the first of many that you would have in that inn. It was also unfortunately the first day you would understand the problem of living in a town or city. The 'Tax Collectors' were petty thugs working for the government. They came through the towns outside the cities regularly and took what they wanted, often taking more than was needed and pocketing the excess. The innkeeper and her children seemed to just let it happen. So worn down by the constant abuse that it seemed normal. Your sons watched, a deep anger in their eyes as they observed the cruelty. "Just stay behind the counter, don't want a repeat of your husband. Awful soon to make your children orphans wouldn't you say?" He lazily gestured what looked like a flintlock pistol at the elderly mother and your hands clenched into fists. You hadn't understood what he'd said but the look you saw from the three was absolutely murderous. And they intended to do something about it. The assault had only taken a minute, maybe less, but the five men sent to scour the town and her people of their valuables for their governor were piles of bloody rags and meat on the floor. The inn keeper had fainted at the show and you laid her down on a few throw pillows until she woke up. It wasn't a pretty sight and the four of you set about cleaning it up. Little did you know this would become a common occurrence. Five months down the line and the three looked like nearly full grown men. The innkeeper took your explanation of them being your sons with a grain of salt. But she was glad for the peace their presence brought to the town. Maybe you would tell her one day the whole truth. It was also from her, though you were still gathering the language, that you had been correct in your assumptions that this was not earth. That part did confuse you. And there was no way to know how long you had been disconnected from reality until you contacted someone from the wider universe, if anyone was still out there.

"This won't stand. I won't allow tyrants to rule this world and her people." You overheard Mortarion say it. His conviction is clear as day. "I agree, we allow our town to live in relative peace but others do not know such a luxury. And the men they keep sending are getting better armed and more numerous." Angron added. Perturabo listened and stood from the makeshift forge he'd set up outback of the inn. "We will arm ourselves, and take the fight to its source." You trembled at the thought. Of your boys going off to fight some terrible army of gangsters and blood thirsty law enforcement. They noticed as you rounded the corner a look of concern in your eyes. "Hey kiddos." You were pulled into a hug by all three. "We must do this. To keep this world and you free and safe." You tried to understand but it still didn't make it easier. "This is our purpose, what we were made for."

Has it really been only half a year since the pods? It felt like a lifetime. "You protected us, now let us protect you." They headed off the week after, with weapons and armor forged by the hands of your 'oldest'. Then they were gone, for three months you fretted, cleaning the inn from top to bottom over and over until there wasn't a single nook or cranny you hadn't scrubbed twice over.

You helped ease your mind by making up fake yelp reviews in your heads about it. Four stars, the place was so clean but the cleaning lady did the dishes while our breakfast was still on them. Otherwise a great stay and friendly staff. You were giggling to yourself about it when the front doors blew open. Three towering figures crouched in and you nearly fell off your ladder from where you were changing the candles. Angron grabbed you first, hugging you tight. "MA!" He laughed and the others soon joined. Even the relatively dour Perturabo. "Oh my boys!" You cried and hugged them, kissing their foreheads, even if they were bigger than you now. They told all, not leaving a single detail blank, from the day they left to the day the took the capital. "There's a place for you there mama." Mortarion said, hugging you. "A fine manor where you will be safe and where we can take care of you now." "There's also labs with technology beyond what we have here. We can go, and find a way back to your world, or to find others like us." You nodded. "Let's not leave tonight. We'll leave in the morning."

The staff was sad to see you go. But the town at large was celebrating, the heros who'd freed them from the tyrants and allowed them to live in peace.

It had never been more apparent then when you looked at them now that they weren't humans. Not like you.The capital looked more like cities you remembered. Cities of metal and stone and glass. You didn't get attached to the place, you didn't think you'd be there long enough.

Perturabo was completing one of his first ships from old schematics he found in the labs. Improving it where he could. You helped Angron and Mortarion in their attempts to rework the government. You colossal sons seemed to have a hard time in talking to regular humans as they all trembled before them, in both fear and awe. It took entirely too long to get it figured out. Months in fact.

But it did get done. Men and women from every major town and city came together as a sort of united governing body. Elected by their towns own smaller councils.

You felt good about it by the time you left. What you didn't feel good about was traveling in space. It made you think too much of the warp and its horrors. But your sons would keep you safe and you would keep them safe in turn. Helping them learn to navigate their own more human aspects. Helping guide them to settle petty disagreements and squabbles. They still insisted on sleeping in the room with you. Having grumbles about how they could barely sleep when they were away to liberate the world. You let them. You loved them after all, they’re your boys.

The world you came to first was one called barbarous. Its toxic atmosphere and earth made for a terrible death world. You had to wear a mask the whole time and even then it left your skin feeling itchy and irritated. The humans here lived in more fear than they did on the one you'd left behind. It took even more months to free this world, from the terrible claws of the oppression brought by the overlords. You'd patched them all up more times then you could count but their bodies didn't need as much time to heal. They handled the fumes and violence better. Mortarion seemed to feel a deeper connection to it. "I can't explain it, but it was like I was meant to be here." You heart-fully disagreed. But it was his own feelings on the matter and you didn't push.

The people were set up, made to rule themselves as you had done before.It went similarly for another world called Nuceria. Angron seemed to shiver at the feeling of being there. His hearts beat with rage as he saw men, women and children enslaved in the fighting pits.

This one was harder to topple, the people had to be brought up. Given the purpose and desire to fight. You were there over a year, almost two. The barbarians had ancient technologies that Perturabo fashioned into weapons. The conflict was bloody, but your sons took the day, Mortarion was glad to see more tyrants brought to heel and Angron became well loved by the people of the fighting pits. Even tasking his brother to find a way to remove the nails hammering into their skulls. He did, and the healing began as it did on Barbarus.

They upgraded their armor and weapons as you went. The ship Perturabo had made, became larger and more advanced. There seemed to be a deep need in him, a calling he could not deny.

It came about when you left the warp again in the orbit of a world called Olympia.

You immediately didn't like it. The world was fine, but the people, they were users, self involved and greedy. They looked at your boys and saw tools. You didn't want to stay, but Perturabo did, he wanted to see more of the world. Its city states were always warring, and Perturabo sought to see peace reign, and you gave in with a sigh. "Okay, if it will make you happy, Pert." You kissed his forehead and let him go about his business. His brothers helped, and in a matter of months the world was under the rule of one city. You didn't like the people, but there was one girl, the daughter of the city's leader, and you and her got on well. Maybe this place wasn't so bad if you avoided the asshats who wanted to get to know you to get closer to your sons. It was oddly enough here that your life would change again, and maybe for the best. You couldn't be sure. You'd been in the city with your three when at the top of the nearby mountain there was an incredible light. Your sons were drawn to it. Needing to know where it was coming from. You followed. He was radiant beyond belief, the man on the mountain. Your sons fell to their knees in awe of him. You had to resist harder than you ever had to resist anything not to also succumb. "My sons. I have looked for you, on many worlds. I heard tales of your great deeds." "Hold on!" You interjected. "Who are you?" You demanded, and the man seemed to consider you. Your sons reached for you to try and calm you. "I am known by many titles, but to most I am the emperor of mankind. And these," He gestured to the three men who you'd loved and raised, "are my sons. I thank you for bringing them together, but their destinies lie beyond here, they are my generals, and they have sons of their own to lead, armies made in their image for them to lead and bring the universe back under the banner of humanity. You have seen them do this, here and on other worlds." He was going to take them away. You could feel it and the anger bubbled up in you, it didn't matter if this being was so much greater than you. These were YOUR sons, who YOU had raised and loved and all of hell would freeze over before you let this stranger take them. "So what, you're just gonna take them and make them work for you?" You interjected." "Yes. And you will stay here, or on the world where you found them." He spoke with such finality that you felt your anger rise higher. "They're my sons." You growled, "You won't be taking them from me." Your eyes blazed, and the golden figure reached for you. His hand closed around your throat. The clatter of metal behind you told you that your sons were on their feet now. "Put her down." Angron's low rumble came, demanding. The emperor looked from you to them. In their eyes he saw loyalty, love and devotion. "I see. This is very interesting then." He hadn't expected to find them all here but it seemed as if you were the common factor.

He made a motion with his hand and you found yourself away from the surface. The room around you was dim, the walls gold. It seemed to be personal chambers. "You will tell me everything." He touched your forehead with one bare finger and you felt him push into your mind. Every memory scrutinized, every laugh, and trial, everything that you had sacrificed for the children you loved. Giving your own body to them to eat, teaching them how to interact with the world around them and each other. Even the fight in the warp. You'd brought three of his sons together, and they were raised as brothers as his other sons never got to. He felt your love, so deep and maternal. You writhed in his hands and he drew his finger away. You had done more for them than most had. "You are indeed their mother." You looked him in his eyes and he did something that shocked you, he set you down. Knelt before you and bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you." He spoke as the blinding aura around him dimmed and you saw him properly, so it seemed, for the first time. He touched your cheek but you didn't recoil, and a soft stream of memories played in your mind, the theft of his sons, the anguish, the search for them, finding other that you did not know, but more than anything, finding the worlds where you had been, listening to stories and seeing their progress with such pride, the happiness at finally landing on the world of Olympia to find them.

Then and softest of all, the pleasure of seeing your memories and knowing that unlike some of his sons, these three had been loved so fully and cared for. "Thank you." He spoke again, his lips pressed to yours and your brain went haywire. Holy hell, how long has it been since you were kissed? Or touched in any other other than platonic. You'd accepted that your sons' clingy need to sleep by you likely meant you'd not have a love life for a long time if ever, but oh fuck it felt nice. You pulled away and he let you. Your brain swam with less than wholesome ideas. "You will come with us." He said, and you nodded, mind still swimming. "Okay." You agreed and he swept you up into the bed. His mouth on your neck as he kissed marks down your flesh to seal the deal. You had no idea how long it took. But by the end you were a sweating, panting mess, naked under him as he put another load in you. "I have been lonely these past years, very lonely. And I know that my sons who did not have others to love them would benefit from your care." He rolled onto his side and you were amazed at how quick you went from mad to okay with all of this. "We should probably tell our kids then." You sat up thinking about the three left planet side. "They have already been brought aboard." He explained. You nodded but before you could get up the man pulled you back down. "You are a perpetual." You shrugged. "I guess, if by that you mean I can't die like others then yeah."

He nodded. "That is good, it means I will have you for longer and that my sons will not have to mourn your passing as they would a regular human." You felt his warm seed leak from you and then you realized. He didn't use protection, your cheeks flushed a deep red. He sensed your sudden realization and laughed warmly. "Well you already love three of my sons. I'm sure you could love more."

You huffed. What an asshole. But you kissed him again…for your sons’ sake.

[blondeaxolotl]

Jade actually ships Jamil and Floyd really hard but he shows it in weird ways.

Ah Jamil-san have you heard of an old story where a merfolk took their partner's scale and stabbed it in with their own, so they might always have a piece of their partner with them? Its quiet a romatic tale, don't you agree? *eel grin*

Jamil: What the fuck

Floyd later: Hey Jams~ Could you give me one of your scales-

Jamil: FUCK NO! I mean, uh, no, that's not-

Floyd: Okay, sorry, didn't realize you were so defensive about them. *worried pout*

Jamil: .... Jade told me *insert weird story*

Floyd: Hmmm that old thing? Yeah its an old legend, its even older than the one of the mermaid princess that went to land. But its not a tradition or anything. I didn't know old stories like that creeped you out Jamil~

Jamil: Of course it creeped me out! Anyway, what do you want my scales for?

Floyd: Promise bracelet.

Jamil: ..... What?

Floyd: Y'got promise rings up here right? Well, in the sea its common for merfolk who have scales to sew them together with string to symbolize their unity. Kind of like that old legend but less... extreme.

Jamil: ....................WAIT-

Floyd: *wraps his arms around Jamil and squeezes* Nope, wheen you get with a Leech, there's no going back~ You basically promised to marry me the day you said you'd go out with me~ Don't worry we can take it slow if you want hehehe. I love you Jams~

Jamil: *blue screens hides in his hoodie blushing* im starting to regret every decision I have ever made up to this point ever...

Floyd: Im so happy with every decision leading up to this point :))

Jade: I am such a good wingman :D.

Floyd: GTFO

Jade: This is also my room-

Floyd: *Throws a pillow at him*

Jade: *dodges*

Azul, completely oblivious: W- *gets hit in the face by the pillow*

Azul: I- Whatever, Im deducting that from your pay check. Im too busy to deal with either of you now. I have a meeting with a new worker, hopefully less troublesome.

Jade: Hm~ I think I'll join you Azul, after, all my brother is quite busy. :)

Azul: ...Im too tired to care, whatever.

Jade: Did Riddle-

Azul: Shut up.

Jamil: ....Are they gone now?

Floyd : Yeah.

Jamil: Great, Im also leaving- *tries to get up*

Floyd: Nope you're staying right here. *Lays on top of Jamil* Good night Jams~

Jamil: It's only- Oh fuck it's 10 pm I need to go- Floyd, move.

Floyd: Tiger fish can handle himself let him be-

Jamil: Floyd-

Floyd: You've left him alone plenty of times by now.

Jamil: Yes, and one time he tried to "cook a midnight snack" and almost burnt down the dorm.

Floyd: Fine. *Gets up*

Jamil: *sigh* Thank-

Floyd: *Picks up Jamil* We can go sleep in your dorm and talk about our wedding: ^^

Jamil: W-no- arghh *hides in his hoodie again*

Floyd:^^

The end. This ask is going to get deleted by tumblr isn't it.

This is so cute hehfhehsdfhfdhsfd I love the idea of Jade being the wingman that's so funny, Floyd's little "Jams" nickname for Jamil is so cute as well I love I love I love I love

Jade and Floyd separately telling Jamil about old merfolks story that are both disturbing and weirdly romantic (and Jamil being distrubed by it) I love that I love creepy shit about merfolks yesssssssssssssss this made my day thank you hehehehe

[eyedoeluhn]

I'm well past what the show has covered and the only improvement I'll cite is that the new art doesn't hurt to look at and they have a budget now. Literally everything every comics reader has complained about is stupid garbage and I'm certain this is some kind of CIA psyop.

The invincible comics are, when they're being good, a mediocre hero comic predicated on tropes with a vaguely interesting alien plot and then it kind of starts discussing the basic moral questions about superheroes. It's frankly a struggle to find something that wasn't interpreted by the show better and no I don't care that they cut the crossover with "The Astounding Wolf-Man." You could not pay me to care about the wolf man. I will not read his comics.

Really the most important part of reading the comics makes you realize a lot of people are actually arguing about how events went down there instead of the show. And I guess to some people trying to spoil it?

Anyway I read in the first issue that they were very proud of comic debbie and it was just misogynistic shit that was really bad. Basically every female character suffers though. Most characters are just...i really dont like them. Even Mark, and i fucking hate show Mark. But it's a fond hatred. I think he's a funny idiot who needs to be killed painfully. But man comark just irritates me. Part of it is because the show spends more time with building character moments and there's limited pages but the other part is that they genuinely just fumble character building moments the show revises.

Like, what comes to mind immediately is this monster girl and robot date scene where they attempt to watch an R rated movie while both of them look around 12 years old and are stopped by a ticket seller who doesn't want to let them in.

In the show Monster Girl is the one to get them in, while rudy tries to poorly negotiate she bribed a nearby woman with $10 to act as their mother. She then talks with rudy about how this happens fairly often and shes used to having to work around it. This is a great scene because we learn more about how monster girl has learned to navigate the world and how it makes things more difficult for her and her age reversal curse is a important part of her arc I could expand on. It's also good for rudy too because hes freshly human and still experiencing friction, he's extremely inexperienced in even basic human tasks and now this is a problem he didnt anticipate. His approach is smart but inexperienced and he's been spending the last few days following monster girls lead.

In the comic the scene plays out very differently. Rudy is the primary negotiator, and he initially tries to brute force the interaction before coming to the same conclusion and bribing a nearby woman while monster girl swoons and thanks him after. In this scene we learn....Rudy is smart. Hes willing to change his approach and..this is just another step in his plan to woo monster girl and hes cool i guess...its just not that interesting for the characters. And also the ship is really bad in the comic its so bad Jesus christ. The revised version is just better here.

The show being better doesn't make the comic ass. The comic is just ass on its own, independently. Which is fine, most superhero comics are. Its a capeshit story from 2003 just stop pretending it's Shakespeare and that it has well written female characters. Or you will find me in your house.

[utilitycaster]

re: the top 5 books ask, here's what I didn't include but all of this could go on this list.

Math and Physics: Wonders of Numbers (Clifford Pickover)/Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman (Richard Feynman)/The Elegant Universe (Brian Greene) were all awards or graduation presents in middle and high school; one is a bunch of wild math puzzles, one is a (very funny) memoir of a legendary physicist; and one is an exploration of a then very hot theoretical physics theory, and it's interesting to consider how all of them shaped me.

why I as a math/physics person am also an avid meta writer:Hyperspace (Michio Kaku) and How To Write Science Fiction and Fantasy (Orson Scott Card) - Kaku is a physicist as well but writes for the layman, and Hyperspace is about extradimensional physics but also provides a huge list of fictional explorations, which is why I'm pairing it with How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy. Look I cannot vouch for Card as a person given the Mormon Homophobia but this book was absolutely formative, I read it very young (not long after Ender's Game, actually), and I do recommend pirating it because I inherited a great deal of my understanding of narratology and good writing from it, and it introduced me to some of my favorite less problematic writers. These books also serve as "introduction to a billion fucked up sf short stories I read in high school"; just copy down every fictional work they mention and read as many as you can.

Medicine, healthcare, neuroscience, and the human element: The works of Oliver Sacks/The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down (Anne Fadiman)/The Checklist Manifesto (Atul Gawande) - I think I would not have been as happy as a physician, but I also think had a few things gone slightly differently in my life (notably, having a high school bio teacher who was competent and whom I did not detest) I might have been pushed in that direction, and as I'm in other more peripheral spaces in healthcare, these are still very important books in terms of how I think.

Cookbooks: How to Cook Everything Vegetarian (Mark Bittman) and Salt Fat Acid Heat (Samin Nosrat) - I'm a pretty good cook and Bittman's is the first cookbook I owned as an adult (I am not vegetarian but I was in my first ever apartment, as I keep kosher and therefore having two sets of dishes and buying kosher meat was prohibitively expensive as a grad student, at least if I also wanted to like, go out for drinks or pizza on occasion). Salt Fat Acid Heat is much more recent but I think that's what really freed me from needing cookbooks and instead thinking about cooking more by experience.

Childhood formative books, especially in fantasy: A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears (Jules Pfeiffer)/The Phantom Tollbooth (Norton Juster)/the general works of Diana Wynne Jones, Ellen Raskin, and Elizabeth Enright. A taste for the weird/mythical/fractured fairy tales.

Teen/Adult formative books in sf: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (Susana Clarke)/The Belgariad (David Eddings)/Wild Seed (Octavia Butler)/Old Kingdom series (Garth Nix)/I, Robot (Isaac Aasimov)/The City and the City (China Mieville) - teens and adulthood formative books in sf and fantasy. The lessons learned here, in order, respectively: find the intersection of mythology and academia and if you're doing pastiche do it impeccably; if you're not original, be funny and kind to your characters (still throw rocks at them but treat them as people); with that said be original and as weird as you fucking want; write a woman who is incredibly good at what she does and build a deeply compelling world around her; no really write a woman who is incredibly good at what she does and build a deeply compelling world around her and also stupid puns are okay; get weird, play with genre, and don't hold your audience's hand.

[tarnishedsilverjewelry]

He reacts to your ex stories

A/n: gave Johnny a chubby S/O bc I K N O W that he likes bigger S/Os!! My source? ME (im right shhhh)!!! Also Raiden my pookie bear ily. And Kung Lao (my king) would apologize if he thought a joke went too far?? Idk why I saw someone say he wouldn’t??

Warnings: Mentions of Self harm scars, you lowkey got crazy exes lol (one of them is based off of one of my own exes. I won’t say anything else), mentions of fatphobic exes, please let me know if I missed anything!!

JOHNNY

You hadn’t been bating long, about 10 months

So it was still under wraps for the most part, especially since he had gotten a lot of new fans with his new Mortal Kombat franchise

At this point, you felt comfortable with being mentioned but still off camera. Johnny was incredible all around

But you said nothing…until you had a bit too much wine

“Do you wanna show me off?” You slurred, curling around one of his expensive pillows

“Course I do, baby. But I didn’t think you were ready..”Johnny laughed, gently prying the wine glass from your hand. “Nuh uh, nobody wants to show me off…cause your friends will laugh.” You pouted, reaching for your wine glass—eyes brimming with tears.

Johnny furrowed his brows deeply, hands gently pulling you closer “Baby if you wanted to, I’d buy a billboard with us on it. You deserve the world and more, I don’t know where you got that.”

You sniffled and snuggled against his strong chest and muttering “All the guys I ever dated said so..” Johnny laughed a bit and replied “Baby, those boys can’t handle real women. I promise you when you’re ready and sober we’ll announce everything.”

Privately Johnny was livid. Were these people so cowardly they’d put their friends over a relationship? These horrid people feasted on your insecurities and kept you down so they could…what? Hit and feel better about themselves?

He hadn’t really dated people who weren’t models, but those were different. They usually had connections he wanted to further himself in the acting world

But you had been different. People from outside the industry, with no connections or knowledge about the world he’d thrust himself in. And now you thought he wanted to hide you?

Of course, he wasn’t mad at you. This wasn’t your fault in the slightest. You had been treated poorly by other people, now it was up to him to reverse these insecurities.

But first, he had to tuck you in.(you’d fallen asleep on the couch)

RAIDEN

You, apparently thought that bringing up feminine trauma was funny? He knew it helped you cope by joking about it..but you had a therapist for a REASON??? He does think the jokes are funny, if it helps you he’s down🤷‍♂️

So when he set a plate down a little harder and you jumped about three feet in the air..yeah he’s a little concerned. Immediately drops everything and comes over to comfort you.

And you being you are just like “oh yeah sorry lol. My ex used to thrown stuff at me when he was upset. My bad.” Did NOT help, it actually made it worse!! Raiden has never been so tempted to hurt someone before in his life.

Like genuinely. He’s overprotective of the people he loves, not overly so but when they so casually something so concerning and are just…cool about it? He loose control of his anger and shock you a little.

VERY tempted to ask Lord Liu Kang for their address (he’s doesn’t dw) or to just like…smite them (he also doesn’t do this)

Bc you’re so…cool?? And bubbly and pretty and funny and lovable?? Being with you was like..euphoria but all the time? So the fuck were you dating (from what he’s gathered) some monstrously hideous sewer person? You were like the human equivalent of joy and happiness, you practically had a sparkly golden aura around you all the time?? So why were these…leeches hanging off you like a disease??

It’s genuinely perplexing

Safe to say…he’s upset and confused. And might be planning to hurt them but shhhhhhhhhh.

KUNG LAO

You had this habit of checking under the bed and in the closets before bed. Throughly.

Lao is very endeared by this, and thinks you’re adorable. If you’re sick or don’t wanna get out of bed he’ll do it no worries!

One night however, he makes a little joke about you being afraid of the bogey man.

And you just casually said “oh no my ex used to stalk me and hide in my closet and under my bed to mess with me while I was sleeping. Now it’s just a habit”

Mind you, you’re both dressed in matching Pjs about to go to bed. “What?” “Have I not told you that? Yeah he sucked” “that’s putting it lightly. I’m sorry if I upset you, with my joke.”

You giggled, pressing close to him “No it’s okay, he’s all the way across the world now. And in jail, but it’s just a silly habit now.” “I don’t think so, you apparently dated a supervillain it’s good to be careful.” He replied, pressing a kiss to your head. “Goodnight, my louts.” “Night Lao..”

He can’t sleep though, too worried about you a few years before you’d met. Sleep deprived and paranoid being stalked relentlessly by a man who didn’t seem to have a problem with hurting you

And gods he’s upset he wasn’t there to help you. Keep you safe from him.

Silently he vows to always be there and protect you. His focus was to defend Earthrealm, but now it was on protecting you.

[akajustmerry]

Can I ask then how you feel about Woody Harrelson's Haymitch in the movies?

sure. obviously, it sucks the role is whitewashed but that's more to do with studio directives then Harrelson so I'll put that to the side. I think movie!Haymitch is SEVERELY underwritten, with most of his poignant scenes with Katniss and Peeta in all three novels completely omitted in the films, as well as scenes like his Victor Testimonial, etc. My biggest beef with Francis Lawrence is that the sequences in Catching Fire where Haymitch really tries to sober up and train with Peeta and Katniss in the lead up to the reaping are completely absent. Instead movie!Haymitch is pretty consistently just drunk!dad comic relief to the point where even his drinking isn't portrayed as the tragic result of constant trauma and just as something that makes him funny. In my head I call this the Tyrion Trope i.e. where you reduce a character to "I drink and I know things". A lot of these problems are with the writing itself, but I do think Harrelson's performance frequently attempted to inject depth where the script didn't really care to show it. This is most obvious in how he teamed up with Elizabeth Banks to fight for the Hayffie moments she improvised (legend), and how he said in interviews that he played Haymitch as more affectionate to Katniss than was originally scripted. I think his performance is good but it's so limited by how little Francis fucking Lawrence actually cared about Haymitch and his role in the story that it's not as good as it could be which pisses me off. I also genuinely think he was considered initially for the role because someone was like, "you know who can play this alcoholic? That guy from Cheers." As I said, he's fine and no problem I have with movie!Haymitch has anything to do with how Harrelson played him.

[bepisbee]

yoo :3 <3

1. how many works on ao3?

57

2. total ao3 word count?

183,672 wooooof

3. top 5 fics by kudos

#1 the gang meets shadow with 625

(four swords)

the lu chain meet shadow in fours era but hes a little shit (affectionate) and is shape shifted as a cat. vidow focused

#2 Missing Me with 172

(south park)

mostly a vent fic about self harm and familial abuse from parents. ship focus: creek

#3 Reader x Craig with 165

(south park)

this was just a crack taken seriosuly reader smut with tenta dick after i finished reading homestuck. its one of the worst mature fics ive ever wrotten lmao

#4 Scars with 160

cute short about lu talks about their scars and where they got them. Vio has one from shadow biting him becuase monster boyfriend nsfw implied. silly shenanigans about it

#5 Storms with 131

fun fact this was actually one of my very first vidow fics back on devient art (iluvshadowlink if anyonecs ancient like me and were on there) cute fluff about the first time shadow experienced a thunder storm. I have a re-write of this somewhere on ao3 too

I was surprised about the south park but I know my creek stuff got a huge hit up when south park had the whole manga fangirls creek episodes going on lol.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

right now? soley legend of zelda and zelda related things (like linked universe) but i used to do: south park, tokyo mew mew, tmnt, death note, fruits basket, ouran high school host club and inuyasha

5. Do you reapond to comments?

not as much anymore i feel awkward and i dont wanna come across as insincere or have tone taken wrong becuase its a big fear of mine

6. fic with the angstiest ending

for noooooow its what i had to but not to spoil buuutt there might be some hardcore feelings in store for the last chapters of no longer you

7. fic with the happiest ending?

till death do us part i literally make them get married

8. do you get hate?

no, but i did get this really weird dm awhile ago about my robot ai au (V10137) someone wanted to adopt it and called it underdeveloped while i was still active on that fic (im still working on it just slowly its not abandoned. i made some major story change decisions and have to rewrite 3 chaoters now and im procrastinating it). and i know i shouldnt but i took it really personally. at the time it was my longest word per chapters fic and i was super proud and it bummed me out of writing for awhile.

9. do you write smut?

thats probably MOST of my fics ngl lmao i love me some vidow smut. im also in the middle of male puberty (hrt) so that doesnt help XD

10. Do you write crossovers?

not really? not in the tradtional worls meets world but i habe used worlds as aus (like bnha but four swords no characters from bnha but all the four swords are in that word).

11. ever had a fic stolen?

not that im aware of?? im nowhere near THAT popular lmao

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. have you ever cowritten a fic?

yes and no? my rp partner for many years (about sp) and i used our rps for story ideas all the time but idk if tbat counts as "cowriting" exactly.

14. OTPPP

VIDOOOOOW baby vio x shadow

15. WIPS you wanna finish but doubt you ever will?

triforce valley (four swords stardew valley), the mafia au (vio is a mob boss) too many ideas on that one in my head i cant decide a cannon. Magical Hearts (shadow is vio's demon college roomate au) im stuck it started as oh my god they were roomates and funny prompt about a roomate a sage/cleaning the dorm room and roomate b a literal demon getting sick or not able to cross tbe threshold anymore. I was going to turn it into a fucked up unreality where vio was in a magical coma from trying to revive shadow and shadows real soul was reseructed from the event and so was a cleansed vaati he was interacting with their conciosnesses the whole time. eventually they escape amd shadow and vaati are revived but good. all 3 remeber everything that happened in the dream. vio wakes up still having the tatttoos he got in the dream and it ends like inception, with the reader never knowing what was real and what wasnt. did the magic kickback infuse the circle and ritual onto his skin, or was this another level on subconcious they are stuck in forever?

16. Writing strengths?

autistic huperfocus + maladaptice daydreaming =fics fics fics ideas! wuooo!

17. Writing weaknesses?

autistic hyoerfocus. lol sometimes i get a scene stuck in my brain and struggle to work around it or expand how to get from point a to the stuck point to point c. and having spurts of "i want to write everything" and going for 8 hours and then not writing for two weeks.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

I love it IF there's a translation offered in the notes or in the story context what was said (example "Words here!" character yelled, cursing their bad luck with a line of swears. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" you dont know exactly tbe translation, but obviously it was jist cuss words ya know? like that) if it's a language not selected as the fic language. I feel left out otherwise and it can be confusing.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

ah geez. I'd have to guess for that honestly. its very likely it was legend of zelda though. oot ish ive been writing between friends and i since like 4th or 5th? hell it could techncially be warrior cats actually LMAO

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Missing Me was the first multi-chapter fic I actually finished and I was so proud of that. Content wise though is the android ai au

thanks for the tag @lizzable <3<3

i taaaaaaagggg @spadeprincesss @singingvio @frostedshadow @blupeeblep @twink-between-worlds @bokettochild *throws this at you with snacks*

im so sorry for spelling and grammar im on mobile rn and its 215am

I have been tagged by @batrogers!!

1. How many works on AO3? 241

2. Total AO3 word count? 1.25mil. Almost to my 3rd AO3 anniversary :D (that's around 1,170 words every day for three years, not counting nonpublished words! Proud of that rate, even if it's slowing.)

3. Top 5 fics by kudos:

Status? about Four. I think this one hits the sweet spot for a lot of people: not too long, a bit angsty, but sweet.

so i admit that the mud didn't do much for me, about Hyrule. Actually the first fic I ever posted on this account, it's silly and I'm surprised to see it so high

incandescently happy, a post-LU happy ending. Posted little chapters every day for like a month which kept it in people's feeds so I think that's why it's so high

what is a stump supposed to do, a random Hyrule & Four one, honestly baffled why it's up here

Rise and Shine and Fall, my successful (by that I mean actually wrote and posted every day on schedule) Whumptober 2022 extravaganza compilation. I posted it all in one work, so it's higher than most other whump fics of mine, but there's a lot in it!

4. What fandoms do you write for? Zelda. In the past I wrote a tiny bit of Danny Phantom and a fair amount of FE3H!

5. Do you respond to comments? Always!! I admit to being SO VERY BEHIND right now, a couple months' worth. I'm trying to keep up on new ones, but I've had some beautiful wonderful readers going through my catalog and I can't always keep up!! XD

6. Fic with the angstiest ending: I don't write a lot of negative endings, so I think this badge goes to Counterbalance, my LU Darks AU. I'm actually fully in love with this fic, it's probably the best mix of silly and angsty I've ever written. It's full of what are essentially OCs but they're all my babies and I love them.

7. Fic with the happiest ending: incandescently happy, post-LU. The whole fic is essentially a fix-it ending, though LU doesn't have an ending yet. XD

8. Do you get hate? A couple silly comments trying to tell me I'm doing things wrong, but not really no! Oh, also can't forget the ask I got that was "Remember that Jesus is your first reader." I think that was meant to be passive aggressive but there's a chance it was meant like, genuinely? Not sure.

9. Do you write smut? Nah. And I don't plan to. Not my thing! Closest I get are vampire bites XD

10. Do you write crossovers? I swear I've done more but the only ones on my AO3 are a Vidow fic done in an original world (Nothing New Under the Sun (crystals, dumplings, jewelry)), and Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School, a Vidow retelling of a very fun vampire novel.

11. Ever had a fic stolen? Nope, but I did have one of my Vidow fake fic book covers stolen for someone's fake fiverr listing. Got it taken down with a DMCA but I was like, why

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Oh plenty. @enrolio and I spent most of 2020-21 lockdowns and beyond cowriting, mostly original stories (1.7mil) but a lot of fic, too (nothing published, but almost 400k worth.) We're currently in the process of working on a big epic original fantasy series, though that's a long-term project. @batrogers and I have done a few alt-POV-type projects too, which have been super duper fun!! Hope to do more.

In that vein too, I feel like the Bad End Links kind of qualify here—so much of the characters and their stories were brainstormed collaboratively and so many friends have contributed details and fics and art, it feels like a fun group project! I've really enjoyed working on it. :D (the encouragement and hype for it also helps a lot!! I'm really hoping to finish this big project out!)

14. All-time favorite ship? Ahhhh a harder question than you'd think, tbh, even if you're limiting it to fic. I've written the most for Vidow, and they're definitely up there (same with Fourdow though I've done less with them.) I do have to admit that Linhardt/Byleth might take the cake, though. They were the first ship I was ever actually obsessed with, and the first romantic pairing I wrote in fic.

I just really adore Linny in general, and I love how the pairing continues and closes off some of the themes in the Crimson Flower route of FE3H. That's the only route where Byleth doesn't become archbishop-slash-dictator, and I think choosing to live life in a small cottage, not particularly contributing too much to the government, builds nicely upon the themes of becoming human and choosing your own destiny, themes that are really missing from the other routes.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My old AO3 account (a couple FE3H fics and not much else) has a series where I wrote the beginning of a fic and then had several different endings planned, each a different ship with Linhardt, but I only ever wrote one. I'd love to read the rest but I have too many other fics calling my name!

16. Writing strengths? Um... Volume and speed? Also AUs. I think I can call myself good at fitting characters into new settings. Also fight scenes are fun and I think I do them well.

17. Writing weaknesses? I feel somewhat weak in the plotting and style realms.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue? You can't count on a reader to know not-tagged languages, so that has to be accounted for in the text.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Danny Phantom, in high school or maybe just after. That's late for a lot of fic writers but... there are reasons for that, and a different discussion!!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? This is an extremely rude question, because I love so many for different reasons. I write things I want to read!! Counterbalance (for the tone) and Blood-Sucker's Guide (for the finished novel plot) are up there but I linked them above, so I'll take the chance to call out a different few—Marvelous Misadventures is way up there, a Wind-focused modern with magic AU. I promise I'm still working on that last chapter (and the epilogue), I just gotta throw everything else aside one month and buckle down. Maybe June, I don't have any fic events planned and 06/23 was the last update. I think some earlier chapters need a refresh as well, once I have the ending written.

I'll also toss White Walls (medwhump, "non consensual body modification: the fic") into this category for how long it is and how proud I am to have finished even a collection this long, and a long walk, a Linked Nexus fic where I did so much math and had so much fun with it. :D

Tagging: @silvrash-797 @toyouhellohowareyou @nopenototdaysatan @skyward-floored :)

[campingwithmonsters]

🌻“Promise?”🌻

[firethekitty]

last semester i wasn’t doing well in a very important class i needed to pass in order to graduate so i was working my ass off writing essays and shit and every time i started slacking i would bring up this image and i’d say “ah fuck you’re right vash i really need to keep working” and then i’d write for another two hours and i actually managed to pass and graduate and i honestly don’t know if i would’ve been able to without this picture. thank you vash

[ghost-proofbaby]

IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse. 

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him. 

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless. 

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings. 

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival. 

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles. 

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery. 

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating. 

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of  mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own. 

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him. 

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy. 

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.” 

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.” 

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him. 

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?” 

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun. 

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.” 

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl. 

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization. 

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault. 

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life. 

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal. 

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence. 

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town. 

Come to me. 

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence. 

Come to me. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems. 

“Why are you here?” 

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him. 

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible. 

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment. 

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…” 

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you. 

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give. 

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” 

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch. 

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own. 

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths. 

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness. 

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-” 

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep. 

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns. 

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away. 

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs. 

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.” 

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down. 

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him. 

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.” 

“So why are you still in pain?” 

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other. 

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.” 

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps. 

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…” 

“Different?” 

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind. 

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night. 

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.” 

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger. 

“What was the cost?” 

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing. 

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now. 

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey. 

Blood shouldn’t be sweet. 

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow. 

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you. 

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance. 

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration. 

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed. 

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?” 

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him. 

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees. 

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?” 

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.” 

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.” 

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance. 

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it. 

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them. 

“Don’t,” he lowly warns. 

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?” 

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches. 

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment. 

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger. 

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were. 

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s. 

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you. 

He could almost taste you. 

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.” 

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable. 

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger. 

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone. 

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch. 

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.” 

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer. 

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone. 

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him. 

He’s losing control. You’re losing control. 

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation. 

A road to your hunger. 

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease? 

Probably. 

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge. 

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs. 

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising. 

Come to me. 

“Please.” 

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out. 

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.” 

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now. 

You’re so close. So close. 

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. 

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat. 

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.” 

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance. 

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push. 

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-” 

He breaks. 

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you. 

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure. 

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment. 

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper. 

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you. 

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them. 

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly. 

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being. 

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you. 

I need more. 

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his. 

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously. 

Then take it. 

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt. 

My pleasure. 

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. 

Sweet as honey. 

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words. 

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with. 

“Yes, please.” 

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to. 

And you most certainly did not want to. 

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control. 

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.” 

Yes. 

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.” 

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously. 

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this. 

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.” 

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy. 

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters. 

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts. 

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure. 

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.” 

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical. 

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him. 

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed. 

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine. 

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood. 

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin. 

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?” 

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.” 

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry. 

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you. 

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity. 

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance. 

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you. 

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself. 

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.” 

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares. 

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his. 

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth. 

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him. 

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure. 

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.” 

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it. 

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed. 

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you. 

Eddie. 

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire. 

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter. 

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours. 

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done. 

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.” 

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.” 

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.” 

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough. 

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough. 

Of course, lover. 

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them. 

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[ford-tamblyn]

“ please don’t. I would like to have kids some day “ ford replied as he glanced to his twin with a surprised look on his face. He understood the concern but Ford couldn’t let himself drop it. Not when his family refused to let him live it down either. Maybe they were all jokes from them but ford couldn’t help but forever feel like the family sell out. He was a professional liar when it came down to it and it made him realize as he got older that him and his dad were maybe a little closer than he’d one thought. “ that’s true. Most people in reality tv are actually worse in real life. “ he’d own plenty of people who were way worse. A few that were better but it was rare. “ you know, in the beginning it wasn’t a character right? “ he admitted. “ I was actually that mad and volatile and a pain in this ass. I think cause I was mad about the stuff with dad and then because I left home I didn’t have as easy of contact with you and the others. I think that’s why I have a hard time living it down. It’s not who I am now , but it wasn’t exactly a lie either “

“ wait so we’re admitting my idea wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen?” Ford asked at the comment his twin had made in regards to his reality tv run. He smiled a bit and didn’t dwell too much on it.

“ fuck I shouldn’t have opened my mouth “ ford added shaking his head. There of course was someone but how could he really get into it all yet when he was still figuring some stuff out. “ there is someone though. Do you remember Iris Alderidge? She went to school with us. Maybe the grade above us? I think she used to date that guy who ended up an actor? She’s back in town and we reconnected and I don’t know? We were friends back then and now it just feels different. Like we’re both different and I really like her, please don’t laugh “

Ford understood the idea of being caught in the moment. Kenny and him may have been different in other ways but that was something the twins shared. He knew exactly what it looked like when he got caught up in a moment. “ I get it. “ Ford began as soon as the story had wrapped. He hadn’t been there in person but he understood the fears of being trapped. It was so funny though because all ford wanted in life was to be ordinary now but his siblings had other plans. But none of them were ever gonna be ordinary. They were Tamblyns and with that came a flair for the dramatic. “ You will never be ordinary even if you’re stuck in Aurora Bay dealing with all of us. “ he teased. “ I know we’re not the family to talk about this stuff but, if you ever feel alone or sad again, I’m around for you “ he noted trying to it to think too much about it but he understood how it felt to be in a place and just feel so completely alone. It was why he quit Nepo babies. “ that’s the main reason why I quit the show. Filming kept me away from you guys cause I didn’t wanna suck you and Vi, and the others into the show and I felt trapped. The situations are different but I think our family has this thing where we want to avoid feeling so stuck. It’s in our nature to run from being trapped“

“What a thought, right? “ he laughed before glancing at them again. Kenny didn’t answer about the whole dying together joke and he assumed that meant somewhere between yes and shut up. @kennyxtamblyn

"Ford, if you say you're like him again I'm going to kick you in your balls." Kenny rolled their eyes with a huff. "You're not like him. Even if you lied about stuff for your little reality show it doesn't make you like him. The difference is that on the reality show you were playing a character-- acting. Besides, anyone who thinks reality tv is one hundred percent real clearly still needs a reality check." Kenny paused, realizing how weird that sounded. "Whatever. You know what I mean. You're not like him. Dad wasn't playing a character, he was lying to everyone and... well, he sucks. You played a character on a show. I'm not going to let you sit here and continue to compare yourself to him." Kenny teased their twin relentlessly but that didn't mean they didn't love and care for him.

"A real girlfriend?" Kenny's brows rose, happy to change the subject from their crappy father to something more interesting. "Will you ever get a real girlfriend or will you forever wallow in your self pity for taking a job that kept food on the table?" That just may be the closest Kenny would come to admitting that Ford wasn't a sell out but did what he had to do to survive. "Pray tell, is there a real girlfriend I don't know about yet?"

When the conversation turned back on Kenny and their ex-- well, on their spouse, they shifted their weight. It wasn't exactly something Kenny talked about much. Sure, the marriage was impulsive and it was probably due to the excitement of being in a romantic setting after having filmed a wedding for a couple in Italy, that led them to make the rash decision to get married on a whim. It didn't mean Kenny didn't care about the person though, it was just that Kenny didn't want to settle down and they felt weird talking about that sort of thing. However, if Kenny was going to talk to anyone about it, it would be to Ford.

"I think it was me being caught up in the moment and thinking I wanted something I really didn't. Well, not that I didn't want them, it was just... I don't know. I think we were too caught up in everything to realize that we wanted very different things. I want to keep traveling and exploring and they wanted to find a place a stay and settle down. Be... normal." Kenny said the word like it pained them to even think about having a somewhat normal life. "It's not that I don't like them or that we weren't good for each other, I just don't want to feel..." Kenny paused, trying to decide if they wanted to allow that little wall to come down so they could share something personal with their brother. "I didn't want to feel trapped. I don't want to live an ordinary life where I'll be alone and sad all the time but I can't stand the idea of staying in one place for too long." It was a bit ironic because Kenny was now living in Aurora Bay and had been for nearly a year now. It was different though because Kenny never felt alone with their siblings.

"You? A Tamblyn? Getting their shit together? Don't think it's possible." Kenny grinned.

@ford-tamblyn

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[jackklinemybeloved]

zac’s “less is more” approach to comedy is always golden but it is working PERFECTLY for colin provolone from both a comedic and dramatic standpoint. everyone else I kinda get the vibe of but colin is Just Some Guy which is driving both me and raphaniel up the fucking WALL.