#I wonder what he thinks of his new form (I imagine he digs it) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kissforyouu · 6 months

Text

97 / jjk

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : smut , fluff

warning : back riding 🤭 , missionary , NAILS digging into his back , rough sex , masturbation , he watches her , switch!reader , switch!jk , name calling , p*ssy spanking

a/n : BACKKK!! hai :) this was kinda rushed but i hope u liked it 😭😭

unedited.

You want him so bad.

Your eyes stare at him, your boyfriend — God, your amazing hot boyfriend whom you love so so much — who was making himself a cup of coffee. Jungkook was shirtless and only in a pair of sweatpants. He knows that this type of outfit makes you go crazy, and that's exactly what you're feeling right now.

You doubt he did it on purpose though, he's usually shirtless at home and plus, he's been very busy lately. Very busy as in barely finding time for you busy. True, you did find it annoying, very annoying. But you also understood what he's currently going through.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you watch your boyfriend place a small kiss on your temple before going back to your shared room. He was currently working on a few work matters and busy of course.

You form a pout, staring at the pathway leading to your shared room as your nails tapped on the cushion on the sofa. Your train of thoughts end up on how Jungkook's big broad back looked. His shoulders wide, back muscles and biceps stretching whenever he moved his upper body. Jungkook had a muscular body, everyone knew that, but oh god his back and arms made you want to salivate.

Please you just want to claw your nails onto his back while he ruins your cunt rough.

Without even realising, you had been scratching the sofa with your nails, your mind imagining it's his back. Your thighs were obviously pressed onto eachother, trying to reduce the feeling of the small heat forming between them. Please not now, Jungkook's working!!!! You think.

Your eyes wonder around the room, trying to stop yourself from just getting up and fleeing to your room to beg Jungkook to take time off of work and spend it on you instead. But the pool between your legs just continues to grow.

You give up. You're up on your feet now, making your way to your shared bedroom. Pushing the door open, you see your boyfriend laying on his chest with his computer on the bed. He was shirtless and his back was fully exposed, giving you a perfect opportunity to just go sit on it.

His eyes shift to you, an immediate smile forming on his lips.

You walk inside the room, getting on the bed as you land a big fat kiss on his cheek. Jungkook giggles in return, his adorable bunny smile showing. You continue pecking his cheek over and over again, having a giggling man next to you in return. You move forward to press a few kisses on his temple, hand flying to grasp his hair so you could turn his head to wherever you wanted.

"Hmm? Want something?" Jungkook asks. He knew what was up.

"You." Bold.

Jungkook chuckles, his tongue wetting his lower lip. You look at the exposed mole under his lips as you place a small peck on it.

"Please. I want you."

"Mhm? That bad?"

"Yes, that bad."

"I'm working, baby."

You immediately groan, your shoulders falling down to the bed. But that was until you got an idea.

"No, you don't have to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Want to try something new."

Jungkook raises his brow, looking at you, waiting for you to tell him what it was. But you never say anything back, instead sitting up on the bed as you climb over to sit on his back.

"Baby—"

"Shhh."

You run your fingers through his hair a few times, knowing how much is soothes him. He hums, eyes closing to relax onto his touch.

You look at the mirror in front of you, looking at the way his arms flex as he is supporting his body up by his arms. Fuck, your boyfriend is so hot.

You twirl a strand of his hair, leaning down to press a kiss on the nape of his neck. You trail your kisses down his spine, feeling the heat in between your legs pool even more. You sit back on his back, feeling your clit land directly on his back. You feel your pussy clench around literally nothing. Fuck.

Jungkook stays silent watching everything you're doing through the mirror.

You get off of him for a moment to take your shorts off to be left with only your baby blue lace panties.

Jungkook bites his lower lip, eyes glued to the evident wet patch on your panties.

"Fuck, did I make you that wet, baby?" He groans.

"Yes, you did"

You sit back on his back with a small giggle, hands caressing his shoulder blades as you slowly start to circle your clit on his back.

Jungkook feels it, immediately letting out a groan. He looks surprised, but he should know better, you always liked to surprise him.

"Shit, this was what was on your pretty little head? My dirty slut."

"Mmhm"

Your pace was slow, you were taking your time with him. Slow, sensual and teasing. Jungkook's eyes were glued to your body through the mirror. Your breasts were squished in your tight little tube top, bouncing everytime your body slightly moved.

"It feels good..." you sigh, fingers running through Jungkook's hair as your clothed pussy continued to gently grind against your boyfriend's back.

Jungkook's eyes never left your body. He felt dumbfounded. It was so hot, you were so fucking hot and he could not get enough of you. You were bold and you always knew your needs. And you always made sure you had your way one or another. He loved that about you.

"Shit..." you circle your hips on a specific spot, your middle finger slipping inside your soaked panties to touch yourself. You press onto your nub, arching your back so that your crotch is laying fully on his back.

Jungkook's jaw drops at the sight, eyes wide.

"Baby, you're gonna make me go crazy" He breaths out.

Letting out a low chuckle, you jokingly punch the top of his head lightly.

"Don't you have work to do, hmm?"

Before he could answer you, you start circling your middle finger on your nub, slightly tugging onto the skin of your lower lip.

"Ah, fuck."

To Jungkook, your moans sounded angelic. It was his favourite thing to hear, ever. He could literally just get off to the sound of only your moans, he's even confessed that before.

He hums, gulping down his saliva down his throat.

You pull your fingers out, covered in your arousal, you guide them upto his lips. Jungkook happily wraps his lips around your fingers, taking in the taste of your arousal. He devours it, tongue swirling around your fingers to make sure he's gulped down every drop.

Fuck, you swear the sight just made you even wetter.

"You're so good for me, Kook"

He releases your fingers with a pop as you retrieve them back.

Jungkook groans back, already missing the feeling of you in his mouth.

You lean forward to pamper his face with a few more kisses, your hands massaging his shoulders.

Without a warning, Jungkook suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed onto the bed with his body hovering over you.

You quite literally moan at the sight. He was so big. Big, everywhere. Jungkook's broad shoulders tower over you, his muscular arms caging you between his thighs.

"Pretty..." He murmers, fingers twirling one of your curls around.

"Hm?" You hum.

You spread your legs wide for him to see the clear wet patch on your panties, your clit aching to be touched. Jungkook meanwhile loved every second of your desperate little attitude. He took in everything. The way your hair laid sprawled on the bed, a few curls here and there on your shoulders, your top halfway riled down with almost all of your breasts spilling out and panties oh so obviously drenched.

He bites his lower lip as he looks at the small pout forming on your lips. Jungkook coos, lifting your chin up with his fingers as his hand immediately wraps around your throat. He chokes you, not too hard but definitely hard enough to let you gain pleasure from it.

You let out a small groan, focusing on the tightening feel on your throat. And before you expected it, Jungkook's hand lands a small spank on your pussy. Then another, another, another, another and another. Each spank make you want another more, and honestly, you just wanted him to touch you. You didn't care where but as long as he had his hands on you, you were content with it.

Your breath hitches once you feel him slide your soaked panties to the side, exposing your sweet pussy to the cold air. Jungkook grins, fingers coming in contact with your folds to spread your arousal around.

You whimper, watching him just play with your cunt. He touches you the way he likes. He makes sure to take his time with you, teasingly rubbing you here and there but never fastening his pace nor trying to get you to come.

It's torture in a way, but you didn't care, just needed him to touch you.

His fingers almost enter you. Ane oh god, he's driving you crazy.

Jungkook pulls his fingers away from you heat to lick them clean as he also releases your throat. He spits on palm to land his palm right on top of your glistening pussy to smear it all around again.

Shit. He made you beyond horny.

You run your fingers up and down his chest and torso in the meantime, eyes fixed on his hard boner. Jungkook's hands leave your body for a moment, causing you to whine at the loss - but he gets back to you asap with his cock now sprung out, standing tall and hard.

The sight just made you salivate even more.

You were so ready to sit up and just gobble his cock down, but Jungkook clearly had other plans as he pushes back you back on the bed with a chuckle the moment you sit up on the bed to take his cock into your hands.

"You're so impatient and needy, ____"

You groan - annoyed - but also sort of embarrassed at him pushing you back. It shows how much power he has over you, mentally and physically.

He grabs hold of both your legs and hoists them up, pulling you a bit closer to his body so that your thighs meet his.

Jungkook looks so good like this in this position. Hovering over you, your lower body pressed onto his, cock sprung out and leaking with pre cum.

The corner of his lips curl into a smirk, his hand grabbing his cock to jerk himself a little. You watch him attentively, jaw fallen down which makes Jungkook let out a small snortle.

You both were so so whipped for eachother.

Jungkook sighs at the pleasure, feeling himself harden even more. He passes his thumb over the leaking head, smearing his pre cum around. He gives himself a final pump, letting his cock go with a sigh.

You wait for him to touch you again, patiently, eyes showing eagerness. Jungkook guides his cock to your entrance, making sure to tease you even more by guiding the head of his cock everywhere but your entrance.

You still stay silent, not minding the teasing at all. Again, you just wanted him to touch you. That itself was enough. You really were that needy.

Once Jungkook finally decides to cut the act and push himself in. You gasp, feeling his length in you, stretching your walls out a bit. Fuck, it felt so good, and he wasn't even fully inside yet.

You close your eyes, letting Jungkook take full control over you. His hands caress your ass cheeks, softly pushing himself inside. He's been inside you way too many times, but you never adjust to his size. He's not too big, but he's big enough for you and oh god if he got any bigger than this, you would quite literally split in half.

Once he's fully in, he taps your hips, asking whether you want him to start thrusting inside.

You groan, hand on your tummy.

"Fuck, just fuck me!"

Jungkook laughs, immediately starting to move his hips. His thrusts start animalistic from the start, fucking me with no mercy. He doesn't give me time to get used to his thrusts, but continues to fuck me for his own pleasure. I liked it so much.

He maintained his phase, hands holding your legs apart to make sure they don't close. Your hair was a mess and your arms were thrown over your head, lips in between your teeth as you let Jungkook take full control in fucking you.

Your body was his to love, touch, fuck.

The sounds you made weren't the screaming type of loud, but they certainly weren't inaudible either. It was perfect.

You whine as Jungkook lean down to burry his face in your neck. This way, he can find a better angle and also it was comfortable for him.

"Ah! Ah!" Your moans and the sound of skin slapping echoes through the room. Your nails were digging onto Jungkook's back, scratching it whenever he hits that one spot.

You were so sure that there were marks left by now. You expect to see scratches all over Jungkook's back after. He enjoyed it as well. He enjoyed looking at the marks caused by your nails on his back.

"Kook, you're fucking me so good, baby! Don't stop, don't stop—"

You moan out loud, nails digging onto his muscles more.

"Yeah? Right here?" He circles his hips around this specific spot that made you clench around him repeatedly.

You let out a long moan, eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck! Kook, I'm cumming..!"

Jungkook fucks you through your orgasm, moaning with you once he feels your cum coating his cock.

He continues to slam into your pussy, a white string of cum attaching your pussy and the tip of his cock once he pulls out. Jungkook moans at the sight of your swollen pussy, completely ruined and red, glistening with your cum.

Without wasting another second, his hand jerks himself off and spills his load all over your stomach, some even landing on your breast.

His cock hangs low, softening by seconds while you and him catch your breaths.

Jungkook's hair was sticking onto his forehead, his body golden - glistening with sweat.

He huffs, touching his hair to make sure they're parted. Jungkook leans down to place a little kiss on your lips, another, then another.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes."

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #smut #bts #bts jk #bts smut #fanfiction #fanfic #explict

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tojisun · 3 months

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no, but can you imagine dbf! simon and new boyfriend! toji actually interacting. place your bets on how long it takes for a fight to break out. five minutes or five seconds? and whose "starts it" (because you know that's what they're gonna say, as if they're kids)? i'm betting on toji for that one.

I WENT FERAL READING THIS??? GI OMG 😭

……oki but imagine toji being such a menace that the moment he meets dbf!simon he goes, “oh. so yer the ex.” he runs his eyes over simon. “y’don’t look much.” toji turns to you. “this the one y’were losin’ yer mind over?”

“toji.”

toji pulls you closer towards him, rubbing his arm along your shoulder. “m’sorry, kid,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “y’know it isn’t a dig on you, yeah?”

“oh god,” you groan because that doesn’t de-escalate the situation , not when simon’s arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes furrowed in anger. “let’s just–”

“you’re a pathetic replacement, s’what it is,” simon drawls, cutting you off.

the words pierce through you, pulling you under the memories of your heartache because simon does that well, anyway—he’s good at reminding you of the way you look for him in everyone.

and to hear that it must be the same thing with toji–

you snap your head towards your new boyfriend, denial already on the tip of your tongue because simon may be right about the others but not with toji. not with him–

but toji’s already moving, his warmth leaving you because—oh god!—he’s moved to throw the first punch, his curled fist hit simon’s jaw straight on with a sickening crunch. simon stumbles with a groan, wide eyes blinking, and then he’s returning the hit.

the two fall in a sort of wicked dance, both good at reading each other’s moves and retaliating with something even more painful. you stay out of the way, not knowing how to stop it, let alone how to break their focus. you thumb your phone in your pocket, wondering if you need to call 911 at this point but.

you tell yourself that you might just be biased, that the months of piled up anger and hurt are making you see things, but you think that toji might actually be overpowering simon.

you are proven right when toji throws one final punch and then simon falters before tipping over, his body tumbling to the ground. you watch with morbid fascination, your blood jumping in excitement because this, for some reason, feels like vindication.

“so,” toji says, his voice making you rip your eyes away from simon’s bloody form. “y’proud i won or?”

you blink, mouth agape, then you’re jumping into his arms. toji catches you with a chuckle, his scarred lips tracing a kiss on your cheek.

“so fucking proud,” you tell him with a giggle.

toji pulls back just enough that you see his boyish grin. “yeah?” you nod. “good. all those punches are for you.”

“oh, you,” you murmur, eyes fluttering, cheeks burning.

simon groans on the floor but you and toji ignore him.

i did the math and tojis heavenly restricted body would honestly fold simon :/

giselle this made me crazy ur so silly i fucking love it??? idk why i started typing like im actually serious about this (i am) but dhejdjrjjejd 😭😭

#giselle <3 #ask #dbf!simon #toji fushiguro x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #GIGGLING THERES NOT A SINGLE SERIOUS BONE BETWEEN ALL OF US

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months

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❝ just wanna be one of your toys, tonight❞

creepypasta x incubus!reader | drabble, how you meet, general dating headcanons | graphic descriptions of violence, descriptions of nsfw/smut | not proofread

warnings: yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationship habits but it's okay because everyone in this fic is unhinged, cannibalism with a sexual context, piquerism/knife kink, tentacles, teratophilia, pheromones used by r!, canon violence, LJ's section alludes to r! mutilating a p*de,Slenderman controls r!s food intake (?), guys this is kind of messed up pls

Eyeless Jack | Jeff The Killer | Laughing Jack | Slenderman | Toby Rogers

req: OMG. creepypasta fics. i love them. can you uhmmm. can you write headcanons for an incubus reader. with like eyeless jack, toby, masky and hoodie? ignore this if you dont do that sorta stuff im just jumping on a request train rn ghnjgjkejnjngf

authors note: unfortunately, I'm not super informed about the Marble Hornet boys so I did not include them ;'3 Also I did want to do the typical sexy incubi reader but then I didn't so enjoy demonic, somewhat feral, reader and his equally as fucked up lovers

Eyeless Jack —

There was silence when you first laid your eyes on him. As you're both demons who preyed on humans, it was akin to throwing two hungry wolves into a fighting ring.

Your prey, emphasis on yours, had been yours for damn near a week. You've been sneaking into their dreams, draining them of slivers of their essence by bringing them to climax in their wildest dreams. They would grin brightly the first few times but as the week progressed, they began realizing how exhausted they felt and those sexy wet dreams suddenly felt more morbid than exciting.

So your lips curl as you hunch over their head and bare your mouth full of fangs. Your hiss sounds like nails on a chalkboard and your jaw unhinging more than humanely possible as your forked tongue drips with viscous liquid. Jack steps back, his scalpel glinting in the moonlight as he returns the hiss with a gravelly snarl.

Oh, people think of "Sex on Legs" of a man when they imagine an incubus. That's the aim of your pheromones and magic after all. Everyone's ideal of a masculine body is what you morph into. Muscular, fat, hairy, clean-shaven, short or tall; whatever their genitals desire is what you distort their brain into seeing.

Your true form was a whole other story. You were a demon. It didn't matter if you were once human or if you were born in Hell itself. You were different now.

"They are mine," Your lips twitch and curl with every syllable. Fingers digging deeper into the skull of your prey. You don't know this demon's name and you're unsure of how strong he truly is but you dig your heels into the ground.

Jack pauses. His growling ceases as he loosens and tightens his grip on his scalpel.

He's had his run-ins with others "like" him. Eldritch beings, proxies of eldritch beings, and such others. However, incubi was new for him. He half-expected a stout creature with leathery wings and horns like those illustrations in the yellow pages of demonology books.

"...What do you need from them?" He wants to bargain. He doesn't have to but he does anyway. Partly from curiosity and partly from his own hunger...for you.

He wonders what you taste like. Jack wouldn't admit it then but he licked his needle-sharp fangs at the thought of your flesh in his mouth and your blood flowing down his throat like the most decadent wine.

"Soul," you answer as a sickening crunch resounds through the room just as your index finger burrows deeper, "Their brain, need".

"Good, I don't need that." Jack points the sharp end of his scalpel to his stomach. "Here, everything I need is here," he then aims his weapon at you with a loose grip; "Share, yes?"

Your lips hide your fangs and you tilt your head, swaying your head as you try to weigh the options. Other demons could be rather tricky. Sharing wasn't in most of their vocabulary. However, this one was...different.

"Share, yes".

That is how the two of you met. His masked visage and the tar-like substance that escapes from his humanoid eye sockets intrigue you. You had watched him cut open your prey with medical precision so he could carefully remove the organ he craved.

"Name is...?" Jack's pointed ears twitch from beneath his hoodie. He turns his head towards yours and if he were human he might have flinched from the way your nose brushes the bump of his mask. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

"Jack. My name is Jack," he brings one leathery hand to rest upon your cheek. It stains your skin and Jack's thumb rests precariously close to your lower lash line. The silence is a prompt for you to continue and you whisper your name, chewing on your lower lip after which makes Jack scoff in mild amusement.

Your relationship initially begins due to Jack's desire. He craves you in such a visceral way he doesn't know what to do with it anymore. It pains him that he doesn't sleep because he is certain that the number of times he's unravelled at the thought of you should already beckon you into his brain. But Jack isn't a human.

He's a demon. So, he decides to use victims to lure you. He wasn't sure how to go on about it at first but after tilting his head down at the moaning woman writhing in her bed, whispering your name, he takes her to his home.

When you visit your prey's dreams it's plagued with images of the eyeless demon and once you manifest into thin air he wastes no time pinning you to the wall with his inhuman strength.

"Jack!" you snarl in alarm and he releases you, smiling. His blue mask was placed elsewhere, instead, he hid his eyes behind tattered bandages. His teeth were so sharp you felt yourself tense.

You become something akin to a pet. Jack learns how to keep you captive in his home, locked behind bars and ancient runes written in blood. Despite the lack of freedom, you couldn't say he doesn't spoil you.

He brings you his victims. Dazed from whatever supernatural effect he has and sore from his impromptu surgery. They always scramble in alarm, panicked and disorientated before they spot you.

Then, Jack relishes in your vicious lunges. Watches from the outside as you crush their skulls open to fill your stomach.

When he eventually makes you trust him enough (Stockholm Syndrome is one beautiful side effect) he brings you to hunts with him. You're the shadow that hangs upside down from the ceiling when his victims wake up and shake, paralyzed as Jack digs through their layers of skin, muscles and fat. Your grin is hauntingly ethereal and inhuman as you lean down to kiss their trembling lips.

Jack wonders if you smell his desire. You do. But it's normal. Your pheromones were meant to attract sexual partners after all but your gaze does linger on Jack the more the scent of charred earth burns whenever you're pressed to his back.

"Teasing me?" He would mutter. Silence would be his reply and all he'd feel is your supple skin brushing on his ashen grey skin, nosing insistently to his neck. "I know you can talk (Y/N)" his needle and thread continue threading through the patchwork of skin.

"Why won't you touch me?" that makes him freeze. Jack had thought about it. Every time he saw you kiss your victims, or rip them to shreds. You were fire dancing in the wind and Jack can't justify his need to own you but he doesn't care.

"Because if I touch you, I won't be able to stop"

"Who said I'd want you to stop?"

Jack tugs on the blood-soaked thread. It glints in the harsh lighting of his desk lamp, briefly looking like a sliver of light.

"I'll sink my teeth into you, tear you apart and consume you".

His head turns as you grab his chin. His bandages tugged away and you chuckled as you saw the ugly gored-out holes. He hasn't told you the whole story but you know what scars he did have were all human-made.

"You can take my flesh if you want, Jack".

The thread snaps.

Jack belatedly realises that since you were not human either, your resistance to pain was just as crazy as your regenerative abilities. He takes you in a way that feels genuinely primal. Two animals going at it, blood smeared along the floors and walls while claws and fangs puncture into flesh.

You two give sex a whole new meaning. Jack finishes inside of you as he laps up at the gash on your neck, groaning as his dexterous tongues (yes, tongues) feel your pulsing veins dancing on them. You encourage his ferocity with saccharine sweet calls of his name.

Sometimes, as silly as it sounds, you make him feel human again. He swears the shrivelled thing in his dusty ribcage beats thunderously whenever you dig your fingers into the back of his thighs.

You were a never-ending feast. A banquet he will never tire from. The cell he kept you in wasn't in use anymore but he swears if you ever even think of going away from his side he would keep you in there until the sun exploded.

There'll eventually be a balance in your relationship. Once you gain his trust, you might as well carve out his insides to nestle between his blackened bones and allow his tar-like blood to keep you warm. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure no one, human or non-human, will keep you apart.

He thinks it is absolutely healthy if you return the sentiment.

Jack doesn't stray from you. He is devoted. The type of person to ensure you're always full, from his essence or from others, he will provide whatever you need.

Close-promixity. He doesn't have to be touching you, just wants you near.

Will bite you. Hard. Not in a cute nibbling way. Legitimately bites you to sustain himself and thinks it's romantic that you're inside of him.

He is more human than you at times. He enjoys human comforts. The internet, a bed, a shower. He doesn't need it, you're both demons after all. But they're a luxury that he treasures.

If "others" wander into your territory, Jack's growls turn spine-chilling. A chittering, gravelly, snarl that heightens in volume as he curls his lips. He'll unmask, scalpel forgotten as veins bulge into the back of his hands and his footsteps suddenly get heavier. The one time someone had stumbled on you while you were feeding, you swore you saw wisps of black smoke smoulder from Jack's skin and the faint sound of fire crackling.

Miiight be the most protective one of the bunch.

You having sex with your prey does not bother Jack. Your sex with him is much more solidifying, oath-binding and skin-scarring. Besides, he knows you need actual souls to be sustained.

Jack's not sure how long he will be "alive" but if he's dying you're coming with him, (Y/N). He would burn the world down for you but death won't keep you apart.

Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer —

"What. The. Fuck?" Jeff's damaged facial muscles could barely twitch or tug on his cheeks due to his insane self-mutilation, however, he manages to furrow his brows hard enough that he feels his cheekbones spasm as they attempt to frown.

The married couple he had been stalking laid dead on their mahogany bed and there was some sort of freak over them.

Your eyes were almost as wide as his as you slip three of your fingers into your bloody mouth, sucking them clean with an obscene sigh of satisfaction.

"Too...late," Jeff's "nose" burns as he surges forward. His boots track mud and water across the bedroom and your grin is maniacal as he unsheathes his hunting knife from his hip.

"You fucking bitch!"

Truth be told, you spotted Jeff during one of your nightly visits to the husband's dreams. His white outfit contrasts so sharply in the dark it almost seems haughty. A little "look at me"-sy if you could put it into words.

Jeff brandishes his hunting knife and you twist out of the way to instead latch onto the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes earn a pleasant shiver that spreads warmth to the thing between your crotch.

He was goddamn grotesque. Skin leathery, eyes so painfully dry and irritated it rimmed red and that cut-up smile? His yellow teeth and red gums are splashes of colour since they're no longer hidden by his cheeks. His jet-black hair whips furiously against his face as one hand reaches up to grab your ankle.

Your yell is more of a screech and Jeff wrestles you on the body of the wife. Her bones and nipple piercings dig into your back as Jeff digs his knife into your shoulder.

"They were fucking mine! You goddamn cunt! Stupid little bitch!" he's more robust than a regular human. Then again, a regular human would've died from his "cosmetic" surgeries a while ago.

You can still his heartbeat in his chest though. Slow but there.

He pulls the knife out and you exclaim once he stabs you once again. The toothy edge of the blade was meant to inflict pain every time he pulled out and Jeff's cheeks lifted into a gleeful expression as he watched you writhe in pain.

But then.

"Mom?" Jeff locks up. You turn your head to the shadow under the door but Jeff puts the knife to your eye and your snarling lowers into a hissing.

Jeff does not hurt kids. The way he stares down at you with stormy grey blues shows that though he has no idea how to slaughter you he will try to if you even think of laying a hand on her. Much to his relief, you close your eyes and go lax.

You don't hurt kids either.

"Momma?" The doorknob shakes and Jeff knows the kid probably smells iron but the two of you are as rigid as the corpses on the bed.

"Did you need something, Kavi?" The voice that comes out your lips isn't yours, it's the father's and Jeff only loosens his grip from surprise. Kavi's feet shuffle nervously and whatever stuffy she's holding squeaks lightly in pressure. "I heard noises...screaming" She hears the smile in your voice as you tell her to go back to bed.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Kavi" This time it's a command and Kavi's shadow straightens up before her footsteps fade away.

Jeff's breathing had slowed throughout the interaction. He's good at being quiet when he needs to be. Not so flashy when the situation calls for it. A soft spot for children. How noble.

He presses on your chest with the heel of his palm but then gets up and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. You turn onto your stomach, pushing the husband onto the floor as you watch Jeff glare at you with contempt as he paces.

"I've been watching them", Your eye roll makes him grunt. "I know, I saw. But, he's mine" He huffs at the sight of the twitching body on the floor. "Could've left me the wife, asshole" Jeff follows the trail of blood down your chest and stomach before ripping his eyes away as you pluck her eyes out to pop into your mouth.

Jeff swears he's never been harder.

"I was hungry".

Your grin like the cat that got the cream when Jeff rushes towards you and grabs the column of your neck to push you down.

For a guy who hasn't gotten laid, ever, he sure knew what to do. You helped, obviously. When Jeff's fingers tremble and hover you would goad him to do better, huff that you're getting bored and he needs to fuck your hole/s with more passion. That'd get that freak going.

He sure was in love with his knives too. Obsessed with the way you shiver and shudder every time the blade cuts into your skin or when he digs the tip of it in and you arch into the edge.

Jeff thinks his first time suits him. His life is fucked up in all sorts of ways so of course, his first time was with a demon. He remembers you bouncing on his lap, eyes glowing as you squeeze his dick and moan his name before he saw white.

When he wakes up, he shoots up straight and throws the rag away from his face. The bodies are stiff now and Kavi's older sister is pulling into the driveway. He wears his clothes and isn't quiet about it as he hears Kavi crying about nightmares while she rushes out.

Jeff's DNA being all-over the crime scene is something he does not give a shit about. What are the police going to do? Arrest a dead man? Hah! They'd need to catch him first and he's been dodging them since he was 13 years old and he's 24 now. They're shit at their job.

That one night spirals into Jeff fucking into his fists for a week straight. Unable to properly think without your whispers breezing past his ears in the wind. He's already insane but you've turned the broken notch higher.

Thankfully for him, you're just as hopeless. He isn't quite sure how long you've been stalking him but when he finally senses eyes on him he's excited because he knows it's you.

Your relationship is physical at first. Love isn't quite in either of your vocabulary but this relationship turns something close to it. He whispers your name in the wind and then he feels your weight on his back as your arms materialize from thin air and squeeze him.

"What do you need, executioner?" Jeff snorts at the title, shrugging you away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes the hanging body as he passes it. Jeff sits on the desk and pats his thighs.

"The fuck kind of name is that?" You cage him between your arms and lean in to lick the scratches near his eye.

"You don't like it?"

"I ain't no one's fucking executioner"

You roll your eyes and he clicks his tongue at it. "The fuck's that for?" You're still not sure what the fuck Jeff is, for all intents and purposes he's just something in limbo. Dead but not quite. Alive but not quite. But his ego is still that of a man and you're in your own purgatory as you decide if you enjoy it or not.

When Jeff realises he does care for you, it's a strange time for him. He won't ask if you've eaten or if you're hurt because suddenly he knows just from a glance. It's frightening to him. He doesn't call for you for a long time and he grits his teeth as you don't come for him either.

Stuck in-between again. He's relieved but he's angry. He's furious but sad. Are you alright? Do you hate him? Do you not care for him? How dare you!? But, also, great! He doesn't have time to be anything more! But how dare you? Do you not realise how much he cares about you!?

When Jeff finds out it's because some idiots in a cult managed to trap you?

He feels numb as he prepares to absolutely destroy them. With a one-track mind, he kicks open the doors of their stupid, dilapidated doors and lays waste on whoever isn't you. He burns their church down. His senses only rush back towards him when he has you in his arms.

That night, he's tender and sweet. It disturbs you a bit but you preen under his hands as he watches you heal your wounds in your own demonic ways.

"You came for me"

"...I'm your executioner, aren't I?"

Don't expect labels from Jeff but he does expect commitment to an extent. He won't be angry if you fuck around but he will fuck you harder if you mention that flesh bag being good.

He's bad at talking but once you manage to pry his mouth open he can be insightful about certain things. He's an observant man just so fucking egotistical.

You are his and he's yours but don't mention it too many times, he can get spooked. Did you expect stability from Jeff? Good, because you aren't getting it.

He wants you to participate in his kills. It's a great bonding activity! He is glad he has you as his buddy/lover. At least one person in this hell-forsaken world cares for him.

This does mean he can get a bit clingy at times, maybe even bordering on obsessed, but he doesn't give a shit. Even if you are a demon from hell, Jeff will find a way to find you.

Carved his name into you. No questions about it.

It will take years before he even says anything close to an "I love you" but he says in his own ways. He's tightlipped about you when his enemies catch up to him and if he feels that you're even a bit threatened he will fight tooth and nail until you're safe.

Jeff knows he's the last person that deserves a wish to be granted but he squeezes you tighter in his arms when he thinks of growing older. He's scared of dying, always has been, but the thought of leaving you alone/being without you? It terrifies him.

When his hair starts getting more salt and peppery he gets quite grumpy every time you mention it. He does soften when he notices you "ageing" as well - he knows you aren't and it's just your shapeshifting but he swears he'll do anything to stay by your side for as long as he can.

Laughing Jack —

Oh, he was familiar with your kind. Laughing Jack mainly targets families but he's been terrorizing the world since the 1800's, he knows the vices of men. He shoos them away (which is a nice way of saying he disembowels them if they get territorial over their prey).

What he didn't expect was to see you panting raggedly with your chin dripping with blood and pieces of what once was a man under your claws.

Laughing Jack's eyes shoot towards the child he had been "befriending". He knew he was suffering and Laughing Jack truly did not care — he wanted to have fun mutilating the entirety of his family and was only here because he wanted to visit his "friend".

The hair on the back of your neck pricks and your jaw unhinges as your eyes land on the lanky being.

You know of him too. This entity that was once brought to earth to help a lonely child turned into a demonic entity that relished in the pain of humans.

You're also aware he has an affinity to target children to bring back to his circus of horrors under the guise of "saving them" and even though you're a creature of hell, you stand in front of the cowering boy with your teeth on display.

"This is new", Laughing Jack giggles out. His claws curled in front of his mouth as he stalked forward. Oh, he knows why little Carl wanted to run away from home. His mother did a shit job at protecting him from his drunk stepfather and Jack was going to do just that.

He was going to let Carl run away. Never said Carl would be alive when he did. But Carl never asked.

"Usually you whores are busy with the adults, not the kids". The very implications of what he said have you snapping your teeth. He raises his hands in faux surrender with a mocking grin.

"Gone soft? Who were you here for?"

Your lips twitch and Jack pauses just as he's about to step out of the shadows. Carl's weeping and sniffling echoed in the room. Jack's plastered smile turns sour as seconds tick by.

You know better than to anger him. So you will yourself to speak: "His mother". Jack bounces back like nothing had happened and gleefully strides over into the light.

"J-Jack? Jack!" "Carl!" Your hand shoots out to grab at the boy but he rushes into Jack's claws and sobs freely into his chest as Jack shushes and cradles him. Jack gingerly plucks the stretched-out shirt back over Carl's shoulder and rubs his back.

"Then you can go!" Jack cheers as he cradles Carl. "Go, go! Go and get that bitch of a woman!" You march up to him and grow taller tower over him. Jack's neck cranes to meet your eyes and he swears his neck creaks. He's never had to look up at anyone before.

"The boy isn't yours!" Jack's claws envelope Carl's head as the boy covers his ears. "Protective? Your kind usually has a one-track mind, never known demons to have sympathy", Jack's eyes squish into crescent moons.

"Have you gone soft, demon?"

Carl isn't sure what happens next. He just knows that when he wakes up the next day, he isn't scared and his mom isn't there. Instead, there's you. He isn't scared of you, he trusts you and he knows that you're his older brother.

He goes to school with you by his side and when he comes back, you've made food for him. Carl doesn't know where all the money comes from or why there are foggy memories of horror when he stares into space but your voice always snaps him back to reality.

Carl doesn't know where you go off to at night but he knows he isn't scared because Laughing Jack always pops up in the house.

Carl doesn't know how lucky he is, not really, but as he grows old he does feel gratitude. He doesn't know nor care why you're not his brother on papers or that his mom isn't in the picture. He knows he loves you though.

And he likes Laughing Jack too. Even if he's scary sometimes.

"Honey! You're home!" You glare at Jack as you step into the kitchen, wiping blood from your chin as you shed your jacket and your human skin. Jack looks comically out of place. He waits for you to shed before he gathers you in his arms.

This arrangement was odd. Out of place. But you learned not to hate it. Maybe Laughing Jack was right, maybe you were getting soft but you were glad that Carl was safe. Even if you had to pretend to be his older brother and then deal with Laughing Jack at night.

He sways with you in the kitchen, humming an old tune and you groan as your shape settles. He grins as he runs his claws down your back then holds you firmly.

Jack wasn't interested in sex and you were okay with that. He just wants to hold you like this, an affection growing within him as he inhales your scent.

"Carl's at a sleepover, must be having fun", Jack twirls you and you allow it with a ghost of a smile. "If he was at my circus, the streamers would be intestines and the snacks! Oh, the snacks, (Y/N) Darling!" Your lips cover his and his brow raises as he returns the kiss.

"Carl's fine with regular streamers, Jack. He's human, let him remain as one", Jack's smile almost seems sincere as he looks up at you. "Speaking of humans, (Y/N) Dearest", Jack thwacks a roll of newspaper on your chest.

"Humans are getting scared of you, rabid incubus, and Carl's mysterious older brother isn't holding up! You need to scram", You sigh deeply as you pull away. Jack chases to cling to your back.

"He'll miss his friends"

"I'll bring them to my circus! He'll always see them whenever he wants!"

"You're not saying no", Jack purrs and cackles after you close your eyes and nod. He didn't really need permission but you appreciate him asking either way. Besides, he had a point! Carl could play with them whenever he wishes to so he won't be too sad.

Your relationship with Laughing Jack might be the most curious one out of everyone else. Carl made you more human than you'd like to admit and you made Laughing Jack more colourful (on the inside) than he'd ever tell.

He doesn't love Carl. Cares for, sure. He doesn't love you. But he wants your affections, that much he knows.

He brings you gifts, some of your real food, toys and all sorts. Even some for Carl because he knows you like it when he does it. Jack becomes a sort of family guardian. Anyone who tries to harm Carl doesn't just have you to worry about, Laughing Jack's looming over your shoulder too.

You share kisses, hugs and hand holdings if he's being annoying about it but both of you know Laughing Jack prefers not to go below the belt. He prefers that you seek physical pleasure elsewhere. He claps with glee every time you toss him the body, turning the corpse into a new throne or cake or whatever he wishes.

When Carl grows old and moves out, he knows that the porch light will always be on for him. He knows his "older brother" isn't human but he doesn't care. He also knows Laughing Jack isn't just his imagination but he doesn't care. Carl knows you're family and that's all that matters.

You tend to the house at times but after Carl moves out, Jack all but whisks you away into his circus. The spirits of dead children crowd around you, sharing an affection towards you due to Laughing Jack's own emotions. You tolerate them enough but spend most of your time with your Jack.

Laughing Jack doesn't know if he'd die for you, he doesn't even know if he's able to die really, but he would slaughter millions if it meant that you'd be content.

"Do you love me, (Y/N) Darling?" Laughing Jack tickles your side, giggling as you swat his hands away. You turn to face him and he relaxes in your hold, minutely but you still feel the way his muscles unbind.

"Do you love me, Jack Dearest?" His eyes soften and you swear you see the way baby blue bleeds into the monotone grey.

"I do, I love you more than I'd like to admit".

Slenderman —

Your head tilted at the shape in the trees. The person beneath you twitched and rattled out a groan as they clung to the little bits of life they still had. A quick snatch and grab of more of their brains puts an end to it rather quickly.

Swivelling your head you gaze at the drawings on their walls. Among the illustrations of the forest views that they drew and the maps, you note the odd scribbles.

This prey had odd dreams at times. Some nights, you find yourself fighting against a force just to invade their thoughts but you think of it as nothing but their own will. Some humans had quite a resistance to your kind.

You squint at the marker drawings, getting up from the bed to walk closer. Plucking the note that peeked from under the map only to gasp as the map fell onto your feet. It revealed more deranged scribblings and your stomach twisted into knots as you realised what entity your prey had been hunted by.

Your breath shudders and you take a step back only to stiffen as a cold wind whispers up your spine.

"Forgive me!" You kneel, bowing your head as you stare at the wooden floors in fear. This being - it was the very thing that crawled out of Hell. It was older than most if not everything that roamed this earth and you had taken its prey.

The crackling of trees makes tears brim your eyes. It sounds thunderous and it only grows louder. You force your eyes shut as the branches drag along the glass windows and you plead under your breath as you feel Him getting closer and closer.

When he speaks, your brain feels as though it's being pulled apart. Was this punishment from your past victims? You're struggling to understand what he says but his voice soothes into something tangible.

"Wha...What?" You lift your head and turn to face the empty, open, window.

"Come".

Slenderman was intimidating even for an incubus like yourself. As he towers over you, you feel your prey climb up out of your throat. But then, then, his spindly fingers stroke the side of your face.

"Please me, incubus", his tendrils sway in the wind and they lower and slither through the dead leaves to curl around your ankles and thighs.

His "suit" pulses and throbs, particularly between his legs and you see the slit glistening with wetness, white cockheads poking out.

Oh.

Well. Who were you to say no?

Slenderman doesn't speak in a language familiar to humans, it brings some semblance of comfort to you; his words and expressions are more archaic but it's undoubtedly the language of hellish creatures like yourselves.

His cocks are just as inhuman and long as everything else about him and those tendrils that sprout from his back? Oh, they make the best restraints. The barely there scales on them shudder every time he's close to an orgasm and since they're so close to you, the rattling of it makes you whimper in pleasure.

Slenderman allows you to go but he keeps his eyes on you.

The way you kill and tear into humans, the pleasure you take in it - you're nothing but an incubus but Slenderman wants you.

And like his other "toys" he is merciless in making you just his.

You're not allowed to hunt anyone other than the ones he tells you to. Not allowed to even think of craving anyone. You're his incubus and his alone.

Who are you to say no?

It wasn't all that bad. Sometimes, he would push the limits of your hunger if he wanted to "test" the prey but you were obedient to his whims.

Sometimes, he'd crawl into your mind to truly see if you were all his and though painful and vomit-inducing the rewards after were enough to make it worth it.

After all, compared to the rest of his toys, you were the most pampered.

"Master", a purring noise is all around you but with your sight taken from you (a feat that only a few beings could do). The only thing you can do to locate Slenderman is through touch. But the thing is, he's touching you every-fucking-where.

You were suspended in the air, legs spread with tendrils and arms bound to your back as your cloudy eyes stared aimlessly at the night sky.

"Patience, incubus"

Love is hard to pinpoint in this relationship. It's more of an endearment. His feelings for you were the same feeling as someone would feel towards a dog. If you disobeyed and bit him, he'd put you down no question - that much you knew.

He doesn't mind when you kill other incubus or succubi though. Not that he seeks them with the same intent he had with you, he is a bit addicted to you, he seeks them with the intent to make you jealous.

He knows you had feelings for him. Depends on him. His word was law.

He likes seeing his dog get jealous. He doesn't assist in your fights with the other demon, you have to be the strongest to be his and so he merely watches and rewards you once you win.

The one time you lost though? Oh, he was so disappointed, (Y/N). The incubus stood over you, clutching the stump of an arm as he hisses at you. You know he is about to rip your throat and you kick your legs as he kneels over you.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to be tilted up, exposing your neck. You were going to die, you were going to die!

"You're pathetic, pet", the incubus over you chokes, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest before he all but crumbles into dust. One of your eyes is swollen shut, bruised and bleeding all over and Slenderman cradles you in his arms as he helps you stand.

"I'm sorry, Master" Your tears are wiped away. His tendrils lift you into the air and close to his chest as you weep.

"You'd be dead without me, pet. Completely useless".

Toby Erin Rogers —

"...Get out of the fucking way" Toby had the coldest eyes you've ever seen. He had been tasked to kill the man whose skull was being split open by your hands.

He must think Toby was here to save him because he swipes a hand towards him, groaning desperately as his eyes shake. Toby's nose scrunches up in distaste. The man looked like a goddamn pug. His eyes bulged out and gaping his mouth like a dead fish.

"He's my kill". You furrow your brows as you stubbornly dig your thumbs deeper into the crack of his skull.

"Oops".

Toby throws a hatchet and it slices through your shoulder, pinning you to the wall from the strength he used. You claw at the handle, kicking your feet to try and push yourself from the wall but Toby simply ignores you to slash the man's throat with with his other hatchet.

"You asshole! He's mine!" Your thrashing makes him grunt as he slams his hand on your other shoulder. He grabs the hilt of his weapon and squints his eyes at you.

"S-Shut the fuck up, cunt. You can still eat the bitch, shithead", Toby isn't nice about tugging his weapon out. His brows furrowed at the sight of your torn flesh.

Toby has seen it all. After meeting a monochrome clown and a burned woman with a mask hunting for a guy named Jeff, among other creatures, Toby is unphased at the sight of a demon.

This means the already cold, unfeeling, man was not at all impressed. His eyes wander to your chest and your legs but scoffs as he cleans the edge of his hatchet on his sleeves.

"You asshole!" Toby waves his hand nonchalantly as he retreats. His plan is foiled as you latch onto his back, teeth sinking through his clothes and into the protective pads. Reaching back, his gloved hands grasp onto you to throw you across the room. The desk lamp shatters onto the floor as you lay out on the surface.

Toby rolls both his shoulders, sniffing in annoyance as he picks at the deep marks on the plastic of his protective wear. "Shit, your teeth suh-suh-sunk...through" his eyes glower as you peel yourself from the office table.

"Now, you're just ask, asking for it".

After that rough night, you stayed away from ever-crossing paths with Slenderman and his stupid proxies. Even with your supernatural regenerative healing, he slashed so deep at one point you're certain he had his hatchets go through you.

Your body ached for days. Not in a sexy way.

Toby, however, found it hard to get you out of his head. He knows an incubus' pheromones linger when they experience intense emotions and subsequently, so do its effects. But after 2 months of aching for you, he has had enough.

He takes a while to track you down. He's only human at the end of the day but when he finds your prey he reenacts the first time you met.

"You," venom was dripping from your words as you hissed at him but Toby simply raised from the armchair in the corner. The office of the poor psychotherapist you hunted reminded him of his childhood so he gladly focuses on your figure to focus.

He pays close attention to the way you get into the defensive, climbing the desk to put distance as you show him your fangs.

"I've got a pro, proposition for you" Toby walks towards the closet and to your surprise, your prey is tied up like a goddamn turkey. He falls flat on his face, breaking his nose, and squirms as muffled pleas come from him.

"You don't have to waste days making your prey succumb to you. I'll wrap them up...luh-like a fuuucking present and...you can munch on 'em"

"...In exchange?" You can't tell if he's smiling. But you hear it in his voice as he says:

"Fuck me".

For Toby, you provide relief and comfort. The beginning of the relationship was tough waters to navigate through, mainly for you. Despite providing you with food when he craves some physical intimacy, Toby is one scary motherfucker to be bare of clothes with.

It's a feat considering who was the demon in the relationship here.

Toby keeps his mouthguard on. For a whole 2 years, he never once took it off. By the time he does though? His eyes are closed and he's muttering for something to leave him alone. His anxiety crept up on him as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of the motel he had chosen for that night.

"Toby" his hand trembles and not because you're deep inside of him. His scarred chest falls and raises in rapid motions and you're aware that he needs to breathe. So, despite his heart-clenching whimpers you tear his hands away from his face to pull his mouthguard off.

"No!" Toby tries to cover the scar on his cheek. You shush him and pull out, carefully arranging your limbs so he can wrap his arms around you.

That night ended sourly. He shoves you away and dresses in a rush.

When he reaches out for you again, you don't pry. You've grown soft for the man but know he isn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Toby wonders if you're thinking of his face as he plows into you and his thoughts are so loud he has the audacity to grow flaccid.

As an incubus? That was a first for you.

"...Ugly mug, huh?" You eye him as you suckle on his cockhead. Now? He was going to talk about that night, now? Okay. Sure.

"No, I like your face" Toby grunts, clearly not believing you. "Just sayin' that 'cuz my dicks in your face". Well, at least he is aware of the timing too.

He exclaims as you push him down on the bed and straddle him.

"I like your stupid face, Toby. I like your stupid fucking voice, your body, your sarcasm and your shitty personality. Is that so hard to believe?"

This relationship turns warmer after this night. He throws extra snacks your way and he appreciates it when you help him with stitching himself up from his "assignments".

When his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, he finds it...nice...that he doesn't have to ice out his emotions anymore. He feels so human.

Toby is aware you're fully capable of handling your own affairs and so, he doesn't interfere. He's terrified of the Slenderman and even growing slightly curious about you too. It's a tough balance for Toby - it's not like Slenderman cares about work-life-balance.

So, don't expect to spend cosy days spent together somewhere sweet. Your version of date nights will be following him along on his missions or him watching you hunt and then spending hours together in the victim's home.

It brings Toby comfort. You're not human but the way you move through the house with him, it reminds him of simpler times; a past he no longer remembers but knows he cherishes. He thinks about the two of them being a domestic couple a lot.

"Remembering?" Toby says nothing as he kisses the nape of your neck. The two of you had washed up in the shower and the victims were neatly displayed in the living room with symbols all over the room. You two had all night to just...be.

"Never got muh-my memories back then, not...gonna get 'em now" He pulls away to grab the bottle of wine from you. When he settles on the office couch, you drop onto his lap with a plate of sandwiches.

He groans as you teasingly try to feed him but soon relents. He feels a bit ashamed as he struggles to eat "normally" with the open gash on his cheek but as he peeks at your expression he sees nothing but love.

So, Toby squeezes you closer and you say nothing as he allows you to care for him.

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igglemouse · 10 days

Text

The start of a new day brings me a fresh wave of optimism and that's all because of the success of my stand. It started as a random dream, a stray hope that maybe, just maybe, I could move forward into a new life and have it be fueled by a career driven by my passion and ambition.

So yes, I will start the day off with left over pizza because I simply deserve it!

There are a few things I must do before I can really get the day started. The usual chores of course. I cook so there's always dishes to be done and counters to be cleaned and of course there's always flowers to attend to as well. It's the dying days of spring with the coming of summer so I have plenty of gardening left ahead of me it looks like and that is work I look forward to.

Just when I think things are going well the day hiccups, putting before me a challenge, a problem to be solved in the form of a broken toilet. Yeah, I'm not going to worry about it and so I call the now usual repair service, my voice familiar to them by now, and let them know that something else in my house is broken.

I thought about trying to fix it myself but I do have things to do today and I do have somewhere to be as well.

And that somewhere? Pascal's.

I'm not going to dwell on what Simón and I shared earlier this week. I'll think of it as a book completed and closed. I've come to Oasis Springs to start a new life and that means starting new relationships which also includes those of the romantic variety.

So here I am before Pascal's place, large, big enough to house multiple people to be sure but its less than what I would have expected. He's an athletic prodigy, right? The next big thing? I'd think he'd at least live in a mini-mansion of sorts.

It's more than I have so who am I to judge?

Pascal is there to open the door for me and lead me deeper inside. Holding my hand on the way there, perhaps ready to direct me into this next part of my life or maybe he's just grabby? Either way, his presence is welcoming and his smile is inviting.

"You look amazing," he breathes out, bringing his lips to my fingers for a well placed kiss. Playing the role of gentleman, I suppose? The subtle action brings some warmth to my cheeks that is difficult to hide.

Pascal pushes every button for me. Physically, he's everything I could ever want. Mentally? Well, that is up for debate, isn't it? Mental faults are something you have to dig up to discover. Honestly, I feel fortunate that he finds me attractive at all.

"Love day is tomorrow," I remind him, already picturing another date with him, wondering if I should imagine a future with him at all.

"I know! It's just too bad I have a game that day," he says, sincerely disappointed, I think. "It is only a day, we have more than one day to spend together, don't we?"

"We do," I agree, two words fumbling from my lips and realizing that the language we are using right now assumes there is an 'us'. It's vague and really, too vague for my tastes. I want something more, something concrete, something I can rely on. Especially from a man like him. I chew on my lower lip, hesitating to ask the question I know must be asked. "When you say we..."

The laughter that comes from him is welcoming and the sound itself pushes relief through me. It's warm and jovial and comes before a confident nod of his head. "Yes, we! There should be a we, shouldn't there?" It was my turn to give a nod, I feel a little fluttery to be honest, thinking this relationship is advancing rapidly but feeling like there is no sense in getting in front of a speeding train. "Frida?"

"Y-yes, yes, 'we' sounds good!" Does that make it official? I suppose so. For a moment I think of Simon and then remind myself that he's a man from my past and not my future.

In the wake of our mutual agreement I can see that Pascal seems a little lighter, the smile on his face brighter with a vibrant look to his eyes. It's the look I imagine he has on his face after scoring a goal or making a crucial play while playing futbol.

Speaking of that, I find myself a little more curious about his world. I don't know much about it, if I'm being honest, next to nothing other than a bunch of people kick a ball around and try to get it into a goal, but the questions I ask him, about the basics and such, creates a shared energy between us. His passion for kicking balls around on a field is very infectious. "I should come! See you play-"

"It's an away game," he says, crushing that idea the moment I thought of it. "Of course you could travel. There's a wives club or something, they keep together sometimes but-"

"Yeah, pass," I reply a little harshly. I'm not a wife and I sure don't want to spend time with a gaggle of what I presume are stuck up and spoiled women who will certainly judge me for being just a girlfriend. "I can't any ways, my food stand is really picking up and I don't want to slow down that momentum."

"Your stand is so cute," he says, bringing energy back into the conversation. "And those waffles were amazing. I keep meaning to come back but my diet is pretty strict sometimes."

That I can understand. He's an athlete, after all. "I thought about becoming a full time chef. You know, work at a restaurant so that I can earn even more simoleons."

At this he frowns for just a moment. Quick enough for me to notice. He's also quick to explain himself. "If you're going to be with me you won't have to worry about simoleons."

"You can never have too many! Besides, I'd like some simoleons that I earn for myself. You know?"

"Yeah," he utters, but the word comes out flat, a tone that doesn't quite fit well into my ears. It's a disagreement then, one he's not ready to get into but what could be the issue? If we were to become official official, you know, living together and everything, what would be wrong with having more simoleons between us? "Give it a year, Frida, and I'll be one of the best players in the world. Simoleons will never be an issue for us."

He says it with such conviction and confidence that all I can do is nod my head. There is a clear determination in his voice and and a look in his eyes that tell me this is a future he's already seen. One promised to him or at least he believes it has been promised to him. This part of him is a little intimidating, the drive of a man that will not be stopped and will let nothing get in the way of his goals but that part of him is also exciting and admirable. Maybe it's because its a contrast to what Simón offered, a man who was happy to get what he could out of life, nothing more. Pascal, I can tell, is a man that settles for nothing.

I make it back home with more of a direction. I'm not single anymore. I'm not single! I don't know if this is a good or bad thing (because you know ladies sometimes its better to be single than miserably coupled) but it is definitely a thing!

I'm back in my kitchen, making waffles and baking cookies and decided to do something a little new. Fried chicken! It's one of those foods universally loved, who hates fried chicken? Other than vegetarians and vegans I suppose but I hope it will be a welcomed surprise for my customers!

The waffles and cookies disappear from my counter, dishes that are familiar to my customers by now, and the chicken is not far behind. Overall, a pretty breezy 700 or so simoleons are earned and that's enough alone for rent. I might outgrow my little place before I can even get settled into it!

The sun starts to fall, casting long shadows over the day and slowly but beautifully giving way to night. I don't like having my stand open at night because...duh, why would I? So I'm just about ready to close up shop until one more person lingers over to my stand.

"Hola!" I call out, catching his attention. One more sale won't hurt.

"Fryda?" He asks, his pronunciation all wrong. I nod my head any ways, impatiently wanting to make my sale and call it a night. "Closing up?"

"Yes, loong day but...one more," I keep it simple, Simlish still being new to me meant short sentences are better than longer ones and despite what others say I do not like my accent.

"Anything you would suggest?"

"Ummmm..." that's a question I don't get a lot so it makes me think for a moment. I look over the counter, most of the dishes are cleaned, my best offerings long gone leaving nothing I'd really suggest. "Pizza?" I wave a hand over it. It's not my best creation but he smiles, hands me his simoleons, and takes a slice.

"Can't go wrong with pizza! Thanks, Fryda!"

But little does Friday know that her last lingering customer was none other than Ray Booker. Infamous local food critic and one who was looking for any reason to leave a scathing review.

He happily made his way to a nearby bench in a neighborhood park, cleared of children thankfully, and signaled for his cameraman to pop out and start the show.

Once the lens fell on him he went into his usual motions. Playing up his chewing, making the same 'oooh' and 'ahhh' sounds as if his palate was so distinct that he could suss out every bit of flavor.

After finishing it, he gave his audience a knowing smirk, an expression they knew all too well as the precursor for a bad review.

"I've never had a slice of pizza so bad that it might make me consider having pizza ever again. Who makes a cream corn pizza, any way..."

Episode List - Next

#The Sims #The Sims 4 #ts4 #Sims #Sims 4 #sims legacy #my sims #generation 1 #soot #sims of our time #frida varela #ray booker #pascal alcocer #simon barrera

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gamegirlx · 8 months

Note

lmk season 5 (or doesnt have to be season 5) theories? or just thoughts that might be true such type stuff?

lmk s5 will include mayor

here's why i think so

so before we begin let's just keep in mind that most of us have heard that s5's villians are most likely the ten kings of the underworld who are also known as the grim reapers of their world, okay? keep this noted...

SO LET'S TALK ABOUT MAYOR

OKAY SO WE HAVE MAYOR. i always hear people say that he should have a redemption arc in s5 but honestly thats not in character with mayor tbh I, personally, IMAGINE THAT HE'LL BECOME PHYSCO over LBD's death, not simply giving up but actually becoming ever so determined to bring back lady bone demon to help her accomplish her "destiny". How tho?

he'll kill macaque. :D

okay so we know how macaque was brought back to life with LBD's power? I imagine that macaque has like "LBD life essence", and mayor will be wanting "LBD life essence" to bring back Lady Bone Demon.

NOW HERE COMES THE PART WHERE I TIE IN THESE BABIES

so the ten kings of the underworld are tasked to keep in control those who die, yes?

i would LIKE to imagine that Mayor comes to contact these guys, telling them that Macaque is still illegally alive due to LBD, and how Mayor will help them get Macaque to put him to death like he shouldve been.

(with ofc, mayor's real intentions just using the ten kings to help him get closer to macaque because surely mayor couldn't simply approach and take macaque's "'lbd life energy" without the LMK main characters interupting him.)

SO YES.

that's my S5 plot theory that indeed includes mayor. :D

okay, random note to end on, TOXICINSANITY MAKES NO SENSE, i still dig it a bit tho so uhm like imagine mayor meeting dead syntax while he's in the realm of the ten kings?? (since techniclly that would just be hell)

NOW I HAVE ANOTHER S5 THEORY THO

this'll be a smaller rant, okay but imagine them all becoming famous due to saving the world and also just HAVING POWERS NOW

LETS START WITH EVERYONE'S NEW LIVES, beggining with pigsy

so i imagine pigsy, and how maybe his shop would become more famous now? and due to that he suddenly has less time with MK and Tang, maybe he becomes more self-indulgent and maybe even selfish here?

FOR TANG, okay so tang, finally feeling important and famous for once, feels almost entitled to keep people cheering for him, forcing himself to help anyone he can, just like MK can. he finds himself becoming tuckered out, wondering if feeling important is really what he wanted.

(for my freenoodles homies, i can imagine that tang never really wanted to be famous but wanted to be loved, by PIGSY SPECIFICALLY OFC, but pigsy being busy cant spend time with tang, so on and so forth)

MK MEANWHILE, is trying his best to not be in the spotlight and tries to live a more secluded life, especially with his monkey form being just around the corner??

FOR MEI, i'de like to think that while she enjoys the fame, she can't help but feel split about MK not liking the attention, but man, she sometimes just cant help but spend a little self-indulgent time to just show off to everyone and be praised.

idk what else i can talk about SOBS IM SORRY NO WUKONG CONTENT FOR TODAY BUT LIKE???

ive ranted fr long enough, good evening, morning, and afternoon, everyone.

#lmk syntax #lmk mayor #lmk LBD #lmk lady bone demon #lmk theories #lego monkie kid theory #lmk rant #lmk toxicinsanity #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk season 5 #lmk macaque #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk mk #lmk mei #freenoodles

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tokiro07 · 3 days

Text

Undead Unluck ch.204 thoughts

[Lord Forgive Me But It's Time to Go Back to The Old Me]

(Contents: Parallels - Nico/Feng/Ichico, Character development - Feng, Power system development/speculation - Souls, Character speculation - Sun/Luna)

Well! I guess we didn't need to worry about Nico staying a non-Negator after all, now did we? So much for keeping Nico "Unforgettable-free" eh, Ichico? Still, I feel better knowing that my prediction that they'd trigger it on purpose was correct, even if the exact method was a bit off

As usual, Tozuka continues to impress me with his ability to compose iconic panels. Nico's face when he absorbed all of the memories from Acopalypse is simply Unforgettable, particularly since it so immediately reverted him to his classic L100 appearance. What's really fun about that is that it's probably not that his body just suddenly remembered all of the stress and sleepless nights of Unforgettable, but rather it's the logical extreme of Artifact-based memory influx. We've seen characters develop headaches and nosebleeds from it before, most notably from Fuuko digging through an huge box full of Artifacts, so for Nico to absorb presumably ALL of Apocalypse's stored memories (stated to be the most of any Artifact), it makes sense that even the capillaries under his eyes would all burst at once from the pressure

The question now is whether or not this is a permanent change. I imagine not, since his previously haggard appearance was indicative of his suffering, the haunting knowledge that his most sacred memories would soon fade and be permanently replaced with the most wretched. L100 Nico had the opportunity to create new pleasant memories but actively rejected the possibility out of fear of losing the old, while in this world Nico is going to be able to embrace the support of others as he won't have lost Ichico this time. Honestly, no wonder Tozuka waited to introduce Mico to this world; he wanted to make sure Nico would be able to make room for her in his heart rather than keeping her at a distance

I wonder if that's another reason Tozuka chose Feng for this fight; not only is Feng's current focus on making himself unforgettable to future generations, but he's also a good parallel to Nico's role as a father. Both L100 Nico and Feng prevented themselves from properly forming attachments with their children, and L101 has given both of them the chance to make right on that. Shen explicitly acknowledges that he loves Feng as his father, and Feng even calls Shen his son, so while Feng may not be the best or even a good role model for fatherhood, he does make a compelling argument for parental redemption. If Nico really does have complete knowledge of the previous Loops now, the significance of this change won't be lost on him, and he'll be certain to make sure Mico can grow up happy and loved

Speaking of, Ichico's final speech in this chapter remind me a lot of Nico's in L100. She tells Nico that she knows he can save her because he's the first person she's ever loved, while as Nico was dying in L100, Ichico asked if he thought Mico could handle saving Fuuko's life and he replied "she's our daughter. She doesn't make mistakes." Both of them have absolute faith in their loved ones to pull through when the chips are down, and both of them hold each other in extremely high regard. These two really have such strong chemistry, I'm excited to see the sorts of interactions they have now that the cat's out of the bag

Now that I think of it, Nico's refusal to let Mico into his heart was pretty ironic since Ichico explicitly wanted to make sure that Nico wouldn't ever feel alone. Just like Leila asked Rip and Latla to find love in each other, Ichico wanted Nico to fill the void she left with Mico, and just like them, he couldn't let go of the past and move on. Leila and Ichico were also both in poor health and believed that since their lives were short they held less value, and instead sought to leave as much of an impact as possible in the time that they had, even if it was just to make the people closest to them happy

Looking at Ichico in that light, we can see another fun parallel to Feng! Feng's Unfade made him believe that he had all the time in the world and that he didn't need to leave anything behind because he'd always be there, while Ichico's Unsleep made her believe she had no time and had to leave as much behind as she could. Both of them, however, had adverse effects on their families, as Feng believed his children to exist for him to become stronger and Ichico believed her child to be an adequate replacement for herself, when in reality Feng should have focused on raising someone to surpass him and Ichico should have focused on preserving her life to be present for her family. Heck, Unforgettable manifested in Nico both times specifically because he saw Ichico's last moments and thought something to the effect of "I don't want her to die, I want to remember her." Doomed by the narrative, indeed!

Man, I'm so glad Tozuka used Feng here, I had no idea there was so much connective tissue between all these folks! I bet we still would have gotten something cool if it were Tella, but damn this is such juicy stuff!! I hope Tozuka keeps throwing all of his toys together in fun combos that get me to think this deeply in the other Master Rule fights too

Feng's inclusion here also continues to demonstrate how far he's developed, forcing him to put his money where his mouth is and sacrifice himself for someone else for a change. He was a bit incredulous at first that Ichico was suggesting he should die, which is pretty hypocritical coming from the guy who just last chapter said "you should sacrifice your wife to get stronger, it'll be cool." Once he realized that dying would help him understand souls better and that Nico could save him AND bring him back to life, Feng was all for it, and may well come to understand that being with people provides more opportunities for growth than treating them as expendable ever could

I am very interested in seeing how his death will improve his understanding of souls, though. The damage he took from Luna's soul blast as well as the damage he dealt to Sun (who Language stated has a physical body) with his knock-off Kamehameha both prove that souls can directly interact with the physical plane, something that Ghost previously stated couldn't be done. This may be a matter of interpretation, though, as Ghost also stated that Andy only couldn't move his limbs after having those parts of his soul cut off because he believed he could move his body using his soul. Ghost's interpretation was that souls couldn't touch physical matter and vice versa, so only a physical attack coated in soul could harm him by ensuring it didn't matter which form he was in

Luna's attack seems to be pure soul, so by that logic, she shouldn't have been able to deal damage to Feng's body, and yet she did. Is Luna's interpretation that a soul attack damages the soul and reflects its state on the body? Probably not, then one wouldn't be able to detach their soul for attacks in the first place, as that would cause the body to change shape (see Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in JJK). Does Luna interpret souls as having different properties at different concentrations? Is she coating her soul around the air to create physical pressure when launching her attack? Or is it something entirely different? Whatever it turns out to be, I think it will have pretty drastic implications for how battles are fought going forward

Finally, I want to touch on an interesting line from Language. She referred to Luna and Sun as "the Pinnacle of the Spiritual and the Pinnacle the Physical" respectively, and given Luna's hazy silver appearance, it does track that she is literally made of soul, but then does that mean Luna doesn't have a physical body at all? And in fact, if Luna is only a soul, then how did she exist prior to UMA Soul's creation? Is Soul really the Rule that allows souls to exist, or the Rule that allows other souls, existences like Luna, to be?

And if Luna is a soul without a body, then...is Sun a body without a soul? Can soul-based attacks work on Sun, or does the Union need to focus solely on physical attacks? Or, does defeating Sun require that Luna be defeated simultaneously, just like Ghost, because Luna is Sun's soul?

I know I say it all the time, but Tozuka really is following Oda's footsteps incredibly well. They're both so good at sprinkling in hints that make me ask questions rather than just spoonfeeding me answers, so while I desperately want the answers, the time I get to spend chewing them over and looking for them myself makes the questions stick with me and leave that much more of an impact. I sincerely hope that other mangaka are taking notes, cus I want to see so much more of this in Jump's future!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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euphreana · 12 days

Text

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 4: All Sworded Out

Masterpost

‘ACCESS DENIED’ flashed on the lock readout.

“Try it upside down?” Nimona suggested.

ACCESS DENIED.

Ambrosius narrowed his eyes at the ID card reader. He was a knight now - shouldn’t that let him into the archives? Maybe the systems hadn’t been updated yet…

“Hey, you’re not allowed back here!” the voice of an archives worker made Ambrosius jump, “This is a high-security area. You need special clearance to be here.”

“I’m a knight. Isn’t that clearance enough?”

“Not for there.” The worker jerked his head towards the locked door. “If you want to retrieve something, you can fill out a request form with the receptionist.”

Ambrosius grimaced as the worker shooed them from the room. Not more paperwork…

The pink, dog-shaped hallucination by Ambrosius’s side spoke up as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Go wait for me outdoors - I’ll look around back for any windows.” she said with a wink before trotting off around the corner.

Ambrosius wondered what she’d say if she returned - since she was a figment of his imagination, she couldn’t know anything he didn’t, windows included. He glanced back at the room he’d come from. What was he doing anyway? Sneaking into the archives was a bad idea. He could ‘dig’, as Nimona had put it, another way. And he could figure out that other way over breakfast at the tea shop across the street.

~ ~ ~

Ambrosius tried to ignore the judging glances from the other patrons when he entered the shop. No doubt his appearance at the execution yesterday had made the news. He knew he’d hear it from The Director when he went in for work tomorrow - stuff about ‘damage control’ and ‘keeping an appearance worthy of the Goldenloin lineage’, yadda yadda. It was stifling.

He scanned the tea shop menu. Ballister had always ordered the same thing whenever they’d come here; earl gray with milk (not creamer) and sugar. Nobody else Ambrosius knew used milk - his mom had liked it that way and gotten Ballister hooked on it the first time he’d visited. Ambrosius had thought Bal was just humoring her at first, but he’d continued to order it after she’d died. Now there was nobody left to order it...

Ambrosius ordered the earl grey with milk and sugar. He may as well have ordered nothing; once he got it, he couldn’t bring himself to drink it. All he could think about were the two people who used to order this very thing, both dead and gone. The last time he’d seen either of them had been distressing - his mom sick in bed with her hair shorn off, Ballister being dragged away after shooting the queen…

Eventually, Ambrosius reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper packet the size of his fist. ‘Bal’ had been written on it in ink - the only label he could think to give the handful of ash. He held it in his hands. He and Ballister had been inseparable since childhood - even now, Ambrosius couldn’t leave him behind to sit on a nightstand.

His thoughts were interrupted by a woman in a lab coat sitting down opposite him.

“I got it.” She grinned at him. She had Nimona’s voice.

Ambrosius shoved the ash packet back into his pocket, curious about this new form.

“Got what?”

Nimona held up a matching ID badge. “I’m the archives manager! I’ll just walk you in - the real manager’s out and won’t notice her badge is gone for at least an hour.”

It would have been a good plan if Nimona had been real, Ambrosius thought. Just then, a man in a matching lab coat walked up to the table.

“Oh, Priyanka, I thought you were in your office.”

Ambrosius blinked in surprise. He looked up at the man.

“What did you call me?”

“Not you.” The man looked at Nimona. “I could have picked up your order for you.”

Ambrosius’s jaw fell open.

“You can see her too?!”

The man gave Ambrosius a confused look.

Nimona spoke up. “I’ll let you know next time.” she said in what Ambrosius guessed was the manager’s voice.

Ambrosius’s head was spinning so hard, he didn’t notice the man leave. He reached across the table and prodded manager-Nimona’s shoulder.

“You’re real?”

“What, did you think you were imagining things?” Nimona snorted, back in her original voice. “Hooo boy, that explains so much.”

“This doesn’t make sense - you were a girl, then a dog, then—”

“Don’t forget the cat. You gonna drink that?” she pointed at the tea.

When Ambrosius didn’t answer, Nimona popped off the lid and guzzled it down.

“Hoo yeah, good combo. Anyway, you coming?”

“You… what are you?”

“I’m Nimona.”

“But you—”

“Listen, we can sit here talking, or we can get into the archives before the real manager gets back. Are you coming or not?”

Alarm bells were going off in Ambrosius’s head. Nimona was Wrong. He’d never heard of anyone in the kingdom able to change form at will. Where had she come from? From outside the wall? Impossible. Nobody could live out there because of the monsters - huge, hulking creatures with ravenous hunger - and the wall hadn’t been breached for as long as it’d stood. By all logic, Nimona shouldn’t exist. And yet here she was, offering him a chance to get some closure about about the man he’d loved. That couldn’t be wrong… could it?

~ ~ ~

Sure enough, Nimona was able to waltz right into the high-security archives with Ambrosius in tow. Ambrosius tried to play it cool as best he could, but guilt and anxiety pounded in his head. This was a security violation. A necessary one, he told himself - he was doing this for the good of the kingdom. If Bal had been telling the truth, then there was still a murderer on the loose. He couldn’t let that happen, right? And it wasn’t like he could have stopped Nimona from breaking in if she’d wanted to. He was just taking advantage of the situation.

The vault was bigger than he’d expected - rows upon rows of tall shelving units and cabinets labeled from ‘A’ to ‘Z’. There were several windows in one wall letting light in, all of them close to the ceiling and looking securely locked. Otherwise the only source of light was the old buzzing lamps above.

The sword was in a drawer in the B section, under ‘Boldheart’. The charred pieces were laid out on white felt, easy to see even in the flickering lights. Ambrosius carefully picked up a piece of the hilt, remembering the clang it had made when he’d knocked it from Ballister’s hand. He could remember it clearly now, the way the sword had fallen to the ground, shattering into pieces. The way Ballister had looked at him in shock - not the eyes of a murderer, but the eyes of a man horrified.

“Anything jumping out at you?” Nimona interrupted the flashback. She was back in her original form - the punk teenager one.

Ambrosius set the piece down, trying to calm his anxiety jitters.

“Honestly? I don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

Nimona looked down into the drawer.

“Well by the looks of it, it wasn’t a real sword in the first place. Someone took a sword-shaped shell and stuffed a blaster inside.”

That’s what the official write-up had said too. The write-up hadn’t mentioned how realistic the shell had been. The lengths the maker had gone to make it look like the original was phenomenal. Despite it's broken state, Ambrosius could see everything, right down to the scratches on the pommel, had been duplicated perfectly. The only difference was that the replica was hollow inside.

“There’s no way this was a store-bought prop,” he mused, “It had to have been commissioned from a workshop or something.” That didn’t sit right. Where would Bal have gotten the money to pay for it?

“So we are looking for a third party here.” Nimona said gleefully. “A whole workshop of people trying to overthrow the monarchy…”

“Unless they didn’t know what the sword was for. With that many people, someone would have gotten caught by now.” Probably.

“So if they didn’t know when they made it… maybe there’s a maker’s mark or something somewhere?”

It was as good a hunch as any. Ambrosius pulled out his phone and switched on its flashlight. He shone the light on the drawer as Nimona examined the pieces one by one.

“They really did a good job collecting all the pieces.” She muttered. “There’s almost too many to- HEY!” She held up a piece triumphantly - a chunk of the base of the blade. Sure enough, there was a tiny logo stamped into the metal - a crossed hammer and sword. It was just small and faint enough to be missed if you weren’t looking for it.

Nimona held the piece under the flashlight.

“Look familiar at all?”

Ambrosius had no idea. He did a search on his phone for logos matching the description… Bingo.

“‘Arms & Hammer’ - it’s a workshop in the shopping district. By the looks of it… custom swords are their specialty.”

“That’ll be a lot of orders to sort through.” Nimona huffed, “But if we find out who commissioned it, we find the perp.”

Ambrosius was still mulling over the question of who could have paid for the sword. Someone with money had to be behind the assassination. Or maybe several middle-class people. Suddenly, Bal being innocent like he’d claimed seemed less far-fetched.

Ambrosius was about to mention it when the sound of a door banging open echoed through the vault.

“I could have sworn it was you!” the voice of an archive worker resonated off the walls. “She had your ID and everything!”

“Well it wasn’t me.” said the voice of the real manager. “And whatever prankster it was is in a world of trouble.”

Chapter 5

#dun dun DUN #nimona #the shape of truth

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halfagone · 8 months

Note

Since you liked my worthy! Danny! AU so much, I figured I’d continue it. This next prompt is basically the avengers reaction to Danny kicking ass using the hammer (while still in his civilian form). What do you think?

Hmmm 🤔 now there are a number of ways one could go about this. Most of which stems to: how does civilian Danny get wrapped up in a situation like this where he'd have access to the hammer again?

I don't have normal prose for this right now (class will be the half-death of me TAT) but I do like the idea that maybe Danny is still in town after visiting the Avengers for the PR stunt. I doubt he would have gone that far only to come right back to Amity Park.

So maybe during this time there's an attack on New York, because apparently New York is like villain central (there are SO MANY heroes living there in Marvel comics) and the Avengers come out to play because it's that high level of a threat. It works as a pretty standard fight, blast the bad guy, save the civilian. Except, one time that Thor threw his hammer, he doesn't get it back.

So where did it go?

They can't go look for it right away exactly, not unless Thor would really need it right this moment, but eventually they come across the wayward hammer anyways. Maybe Danny had accidentally summoned the hammer without realizing it and doesn't know how to send it back? Who knows! All we know is that he is kicking names and taking ass.

Most of the Avengers would probably be reasonably concerned at this point. Not only is this kid getting wrapped up in a fight when he should be evacuating, he's trying to fight back? With a weapon he's only sorta familiar with? Say what you will about how competent he is, that is still concerning.

But then that also makes them wonder: How is he so good with the hammer? Danny might not have all the physics of it down, but he's obviously not half bad at harnessing the power of it. Except how is there lightning at all, Thor gives it lightning, Mjöllnir doesn't have lightning of its own? As far as most of the Avengers are aware???

They are so confused right now, bless them.

Meanwhile Thor is like: oh wow new friend is kinda badass, I dig it.

Even when he gets his hammer back (Danny would hand it over no problem, he meant to give it back forever ago), I like to imagine that Thor just picks Danny up like a bag of rice and keeps him tucked under one arm. That way he's out of harm's way!

Everyone else is trying to convince Thor to drop off his smol human friend somewhere safe. Danny is just kinda going along for the ride.

Tony promises Danny shawarma at the end. He is now an unofficial Avenger, because if you get food with the Avengers, you are automatically one with them. Scott made the rule, you're our now kid.

#halfagone replies #this is so stupid #but so very funny #they are trying to be good adults #but thor is like:#this is normal mortal behavior #human children can totally take this #and since danny ISN'T a normal human child #he just keeps feeding into thor's misconceptions

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randomwriteronline · 3 months

Text

It was so warm and tender that he thought he might have died.

It was a fleeting thought, bursting from his chest with the rustle of a small bird's wings as it left him only a heart beating fast and gentle, and a splendid unknown with curious eyes looking up as it laid beneath him.

Could he have described it? Oh, he didn't know; he wasn't enough of an artistic soul to do such a thing justice with his words. If he was forced to wrack his brain about it, he would have said it was incomplete: like a sketch left unfinished, the vague shape of an anatomical structure made of sand abandoned at the cruel mercy of the rising tide, some new flavor of sublime.

But he didn't want to think, and all he could describe it as was handsome.

He leaned down upon it, basking in the heat and light and barely completed physicality. His hand brushed the cheek, pressure causing its infinite pieces to crumble before they returned to their rightful place.

So handsome, he muttered as he settled between the ever shifting legs. So handsome.

The marvelous being looked at him with the gleaming eyes of a puzzled child beholding a strange rite for the first time.

"What is this?" it asked.

"Oh, we've got names for it," he replied: "Some crass or mean or downright silly."

He sunk into the body of multitudes like one sinks in a warm, dense liquid, with a pleasant mellow resistance enveloping him wholly; his gorgeous partner gasped without a mouth, and its arms melted briefly as it was taken by surprise. He kissed its forehead kindly, feeling its fluid chest lurch slowly forward for an overwhelmed second before deflating so sweetly.

"If you like it, we can call it making love," he said with a smile.

The body beneath him raised to surround him.

"I do," his wonderful lover replied breathlessly, wrapping him within itself slowly, limbs rising to consume him, swallow him, with such magnificent tenderness, and on its yet to be drawn face bloomed something akin to watercolor blush beneath its shining eyes: "I do like it - I do like it very much."

He moved forward, sliding without opposition deeper within the gentle mound covering him, embracing him slowly.

It felt sweet, and good, and just like he'd imagined it, or almost; the strange non-existence of the body he pierced at such a deliberate pace felt welcoming despite the peculiarity, the fleeting sensation as it barely clasped around him like a spectre's shadow upon a wall - but after all, he could not expect the taking of a formless minor god to feel too similar to that of a creature of flesh and blood.

A blissful sigh grazed his face through a cloud of mild golden embers.

"I like it so, my friend," the wondrous beast whispered, its voice propagating through him in long waves: "I do like it - I truly do like it so, my friend, truly, truly..."

He was slow, so slow, so gentle, as he kept going, going, going, sinking further and further down in that barely held together shape that kept enveloping him with relaxed coils as if trying to turn him into another part of itself - here he was, inching slowly along its stomach, digging in its faux entrails to fill it up completely, kind and warm and loving, moving into its chest where a quiet thrumming spasmed rhythmically through the sand-like form while it curled around him, covering every single inch of him, leaving a sensation so indescribably good across his skin.

He leaned down to kiss where its mouth should have been and felt a pair of lips kiss back.

"I love it - I love it, I do," it breathed through him, overwhelmed by something too delightful to explain: "I do, I do, I do."

In a moment, he was swallowed up completely.

The splendid creature exhaled through his lungs, long and quiet, as they both unwound.

"I do," they both repeated longingly, bodies and minds muddled together imperfectly like too much syrup in too little water, distinct but not for long: "I do. I do."

His hand reached out.

Something akin to another palm caught it.

He held onto his marvelous lover for a long while, feeling it pulse over him slowly.

"How wonderful," it sighed through him, smitten.

He laughed quietly, just as lovestruck.

"How wonderful indeed." he whispered through it.

The dream kept going - longer than it should have, really; the shapeless body enveloping him held him down, close to the unknowable core of the gorgeous chimera in his grasp, until their thoughts began clearing from the humid mist overtaking them again, until their forms began to divide enough to be pulled apart from each other again, until he could see those magnificent eyes clearly again (half-lid and heavy and gleaming with the soft sheen of velvet, taking all the time in the world to return from their bliss), until he could feel the hand gently resting on his nape as something outside himself again, until the invisible mouth that met him halfway to a kiss was one with his own in a manner different from the inexplicable unity that had bound them again.

He felt a quiet sigh curl upon his cheeks, just for a moment, warm and tired. Then his sublime partner closed its wonderful eyes, breathing deeply, fast asleep - and Ackar woke up still groggy, with his body half aching from moving in ways it hadn't enjoyed in a long while now, as Mata Nui slumbered deeper still in his own rest, exhausted from making love.

#bionicle #mata nui #ackar #random writing #suggestive #local man mistakes passionate night with his friend Yaldabaoth the Demiurge for sexy dream (in his defense he was literally dreaming)#literally. just Some Guy going down on a false god extremely tenderly and not realizing This Is Happening For Real #one day hell realize and go ohhh my god wait. he lives in dreams. oh my god. OH my GOD i didnt even fucking ask for his CONSENT #(slams head on wall) (passes out) (visits mata nui) IM SORRY I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS *REAL* I THOUGHT I WAS JUST SLEEPING I SHOULD HAVE ASKED #mata nui forgives him bc tbf thats a pretty normal assumption for anyone whos not a minor god forcibly having 2 sleep within a mask to make #also welcome to yet another iteration of my fav trope for OG Form Mata Nui being a Vague Shape Possibly Made Of Light And/Or Sand #in this case coming to save me because i Cannot Write Sexy Details lest i Die Forever due to repulsion

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moriiartist · 2 years

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003 | TAKE THAT

SERIES SUMMARY: The warmth of June has swept over North America, and with it, summer break. Fresh out of college and armed with a blinding lack of direction for the future, you decide there’s no better place to be than Camp Hermity, a remote summer camp in the shadow of Mount. Noxite. Can you find your life’s goal here, with your campers and fellow staff? Can you even handle your campers? And… why are the rest of the counselors so attractive?

Masterlist

Taglist

SUMMARY: New friends, a scavenger hunt, and an alliance made with the Red Rabbits.

WARNINGS: Mild language, suggestive humor, brief description of scars, death mention

A/N: I’m alliiivvvveeeee! Sorry that this update took a little while to get written- with all that’s happened over the past few months, my mental health has taken a hit. It was very hard for me to write for a while, but I’m just happy that I managed to post this. Hope you all enjoy this, and happy (late) birthday @nix-writes-mcyt! Love you (/p)!!!

“Alright, who took it?”

One thing that proved to be a constant at Camp Hermity (after a quick glance at your schedule, of course) was each cabin's free period after lunch. The children were allowed to roam relatively wild throughout the grassy knolls and forest paths within campus bounds, safe under the careful watch of their counselors. Whatever they wanted to do outside of activities was allowed and even encouraged, whether it be to play at the lake’s edge, read and play board games inside the big house, or mess about in the field.

The Coyotes had begged you for the latter after archery, congregating around you with such puppy-like, pleading faces that you briefly wondered if their mascot was more than just a namesake. It seemed like the hour or so of practice with a bow had barely managed to take the edge of their boundless supply of energy, and so, to save yourself the headache later on, it was easy for you to cave into their demands.

Of course, the Pandas had to tag along as well, the younger kids enamored with the older ones after seeing their skills during archery. The older kids- particularly Cassidy and a ten-year-old named Jamal- ate up the attention, practically preening at the gaggles of children that followed them around like ducklings.

Ren and Doc weren’t much help. If you hadn’t caught the mischief seeping through their mild expressions, you wouldn’t’ve realized that they were actively encouraging their camper’s clingy behavior. For whatever reason, you weren’t one hundred percent sure. Perhaps it was some form of hazing, to ‘pick on the new guy’ and all that. Maybe you were just imagining it.

Either way, you weren’t complaining; their actions had given you premier tickets to this.

Somehow you’d ended up here- perched on a picnic table to the side of the main field with a perfect view of Xisuma, hands planted firmly against his hips and back held as straight and stiff as a board… and completely at the mercy of a sea of children. Despite his drill sergeant-esque posture, it was easy for you to pick out the exhausted slump to his shoulders. By the way the kids’ eyes gleamed, they could see it too.

“I’m not mad, I just want to know.”

Xisuma’s tone of voice was so dead, so absolutely done. He sounded about ten seconds away from just giving up. Words could not describe the look on his face. If you could’ve taken a picture of him right then, you would’ve titled it ‘a portrait of despair’, and then sold it for a million dollars to pay off your college tuition.

The skin over your knuckles was taut where they were pressed against your mouth; a futile attempt to stifle your laughter. You were half-biting down on your own hand, teeth digging uncomfortably in between the bones that pushed insistently against your lips. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you had bite marks left over when you were finally in the clear.

You had a reputation to maintain as a counselor, and what would those poor, innocent campers of yours think if you set a bad example? Though, based on the gleeful expressions and the giddy whispers of the throng gathered before Xisuma’s quailing figure, you didn’t think that they’d really care.

Your colleagues sure didn’t, if their lack of composure in the face of Xisuma’s crumbling reputation as a ‘respected leader’ was anything to go by.

It was even more difficult to hold in your giggles when Etho met your gaze from across the picnic table you were sitting at, the subtle shaking of his shoulders and the mischievous gleam in his eye being the only things betraying his inner glee.

A seat away, Ren was slumped over with his face pressed into his hands. His chest heaved with fast, wheezing breaths that almost sounded like sobs. If you weren’t in a similar predicament, you would be worried that he was having an asthma attack or something.

Doc was more composed, watching the scene with his elbows propped in front of him. Still, he was more than entertained. If you had to compare his expression to something, it would be that of Hades looking over the fields of punishment, reveling in the torture of the damned. A sadistic smile- all sharp, white teeth- stretched from ear to ear.

You knew that it was mean. You knew that you shouldn’t have found this funny. But watching as your unit head had to resort to bargaining with his own wards for his keys back was arguably the most entertaining thing you’d seen all day.

What can you say? Human suffering is unequivocally hilarious when that suffering is entirely the fault of children.

Xisuma pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in one great gust of air, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought off a blithesome grin. Half-turning towards you, he raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you four just going to laugh at me, or are you going to help?”

Ren batted his eyelashes innocently at him, although the effect was (somewhat) ruined by the shit-eating smirk that stretched across his face. “I don’t know, man. It seems to me like you’ve got things handled just fine.”

“Yeah,” Etho chimed in, all too ready to join in on the brunette’s blatant teasing. “You’ve got this. Aren’t you the most experienced guy here?”

Said ‘most experienced guy here’ glared at you all half-heartedly, scratching at the back of his neck in a fashion that somehow communicated his exasperation perfectly. Xisuma glanced towards where you and Doc were sitting side-by-side, although his eyes were bereft of hope.

“I assume that you’re going to leave me to suffer as well?”

Doc and Ren shared a glance, communicating more through their brief seconds of eye contact than you’d ever managed to convey through speaking aloud. Doc’s smile widened, and you resolutely did not stare as a pink tongue darted out to wet his lips. ”Well, it is very amusing.”

You couldn’t contain your snort, then, and felt your face flush with heat when Xisuma raised one dark eyebrow. Although he seemed perfectly nice, embarrassment still swelled within you at the prospect of laughing at your employer. Y’know, the guy who was actually in charge of overseeing you and making sure you weren’t a complete idiot?

It was obvious that these four had known each other for a long time, or were at least familiar enough for friendly bullying- but that was the problem. You were a stranger to them. Were you being too familiar? What if they thought you were annoying, or rude?

You jolted a little as Doc shifted towards you, nudging you with a broad shoulder. Glancing up to meet his gaze, it was immediately obvious that your split-second anxiety hadn’t gone unnoticed. Despite his smiling visage, concern was evident in the strained slant to his lips and the assessing once-over he gave your person.

Looking back, you found Xisuma glancing between you and the dark-haired counselor, a strange look glittering deep beneath the blue of his eyes. They were narrowed slightly, as though he was deep in thought. You frowned at him, and he appeared to snap out of it, offering you a small smile that tried and failed to comfort you. It didn’t last for long, though, and he schooled his features back into those befitting a man facing death row at a dinner party.

Xisuma had come out here expecting to have a good time, but he was honestly feeling very attacked.

“Look at what you’ve done. Now I’ll have to worry about if you three fiends are corrupting our lovely new counselor.”

Doc looked mildly offended, scrunching his nose distastefully. On the other hand, Ren and Etho seemed delighted to be compared to fiends.

The latter grinned under the mask, settling a hand under his chin to peer up at Xisuma through pale lashes. “It’s bound to happen eventually, X. How else can we hope to oppose your tyrannical reign over camp?”

Xisuma rolled his eyes, the muscles in his crossed arms tense as if he was physically fighting the urge to make an obscene gesture toward the snickering counselor. “I’m going to go get a new clipboard since you all have decided to be unhelpful.”

“You’re welcome,” Ren said cheerfully, either not noticing or not caring about the withering look that the harried-looking counselor shot him.

He ran a hand through his hair, touseling it until strands were sticking up every which way. One clump fell in front of his face, and he swept it back with an annoyed huff.

“Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t fired you all yet.”

Most of the children had grown bored after X’s attention had turned towards you and the other three adults. So, instead of awkwardly hovering around the table like a school of strange, fleshy fish, they had elected to ditch you all completely in favor of actually interesting things- like playing manhunt or reverting back into the neolithic era. Therefore, the drama was somewhat diminished when there was no crowd to part as Xisuma turned on his heel and strode away in a huff.

“Love you too!” Etho called cheekily. This time, Xisuma broke and threw a filthy gesture over his shoulder, prompting you to glance around in a panic to make sure that none of the kids had seen and were at risk of copying his actions. Thankfully, whatever (semi) benevolent entity that was writing your story seemed to pity you, and none of the children were interested enough in the adults to be paying attention.

“Are you guys always like that?” you wondered bemusedly, gaze flitting between the three men and the retreating back of their head counselor. Ren shrugged, leaning back in his seat with an easy grin.

“Pretty much. X might seem scary, but he’s all bark and no bite,” his smile widened, baring perfectly straight, white teeth. “I would know- this dog’s an expert on both.”

Doc paused, before smirking.

“Kinky.”

You don’t know who snorted first. It could’ve been you, Ren, or any of the guys- but it didn’t really matter. One moment, you were shocked silent, staring at each other with wide eyes, and the next, the entire group exploded into laughter.

The kids looked at the four of you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, but you could hardly breathe, much less care what they were thinking. With your breath hiccuping in your chest from the force of your giggles, you laid your head down against the surface of the table. The peeling red paint that covered its surface was sticky against your skin, and the vibrations from the other’s raucous mirth carried through the wood.

“Dude-” Ren coughed, nearly doubled over due to the force of his giggles. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, revealing the tell-tale gleam of unadulterated amusement (and unshed tears) in his eyes. “You can’t just say that! Think of the- the children!”

Ribs aching, you inhaled sharply, fighting your chuckles in order to lock gazes with the brunette. Maybe it was because you were oxygen-deprived, maybe it was the pink flush on Ren’s cheeks, but you were suddenly possessed with the courage of a frat boy doing a keg stand.

Leaning forward conspiratorially, you motioned him to do the same. Naturally, Ren’s interest was immediately piqued. He leaned forward, mirroring your posture, and looked at you with a quirked brow.

You titled your head. Grinned. Then, in a feather-soft voice, murmured: “Screw them kids.”

Whatever response Ren (and by extension, the other boys) were expecting, that was certainly not it. Doc choked on air, pressing a fist to his mouth to quiet his subtle wheezing. Etho’s eyebrows had flown up and into his hairline, nearly invisible against the white tufts that covered his forehead.

And Ren himself? Well… If Ren was a computer, he would’ve been bluescreening right then. His features were frozen, eyes blown wide and lips parted.

A part of you was tempted to wave your hand in front of his face or snap your fingers to try and get his attention, but the pure shock on his expression was something you wanted to savor. You don’t think he’d blinked once, despite the seconds that had stretched on since you’d spoken

Scratch that. Computer or not, he was definitely bluescreening.

“Well, well, well. Fresh Meat’s got some fangs,” Etho joked, bringing your attention back to him.

He looked relatively composed compared to the helpless, wheezing mess that was left of Doc, and Ren’s statuesque facade- his head perched in the palm of his head, gaze solely affixed on you.

Etho tilted his head, and the way he was staring at you shifted from amused to… um. Something. As you were quickly coming to realize, it was hard for you to read him. His ruby-red eyes reflected nothing except your own visage, as deep and beguiling as the furface of a frozen lake.

You coughed, biting at the inside of your cheek as you looked away. Was it just you, or had the air outside gotten hotter somehow, despite it being past noon?

Etho went on as though he hadn’t just picked apart your every virtue. “I wasn't expecting that from you,” he said, blissfully ignoring Ren and Doc’s continued distress. You were actually pretty sure the former was dying. “I’d pegged you to be the shy type.”

Huffing, you crossed your arms. “Well, you better get used to it, buster. There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“I hope so,” he murmured wryly, and you got the distinct impression that he was grinning like a Cheshire cat under his mask.

Before you could work out how to even begin to respond to that, Xisuma decided to arrive back at the table, a new clipboard pinned safely between his body and his arm. He frowned, dark eyes wide and confused as they flickered from you, to Etho, to Doc and Ren, then back to you.

“What’s got everyone so worked up?”

Etho blinked placidly, sticking his hand under his seat and coming back up with a suspiciously familiar-looking clipboard in hand. “Well, for one, I found your clipboard.”

“... What?”

In all honesty, you probably could’ve done without that whole debacle, but hey! At least it allowed you to bond with your fellow camp counselors- and by ‘bond’, you meant watch as Xisuma simultaneously tried to prevent himself from killing Etho, and prevent Doc from suffocating on his laughter.

(It was hard to tell, but you think he might’ve cracked a rib.)

That was neither here nor there. All good things must come to an end, however, and soon enough you were packing up armfuls of wriggling Coyotes and desperately herding them off to the most anticipated event of the day: the scavenger hunt.

Unlike archery, this activity was a little bit different. It wasn't solely confined to just the Coyotes and another cabin that was scheduled along with you- this thing expanded to include the entire camp. Everyone, including the other kids and counselors you hadn’t even met yet.

If you had to guess, it was about three-thirty in the afternoon. The sun had sunk low past its zenith, and the conifers and oak trees at the edge of the camp stood out in dark relief against the sky. The buildings and decor that cropped up from the rolling hills of Hermity grounds cast long, purplish-blue shadows against the grass, painting your legs as you hurried by.

Zeniyah (eight, loves the color pink, hates tomatoes) remarked that the shade from the taller clumps of the snakeweed flowers that dotted the lawn made her legs look like they had tiger stripes. You offered her a terse but indulgent smile.

You could hear the other groups before you saw them. The high-pitched chatter of tiny voices filled the air as you and the rest of the Coyotes crested the steep trail that led up to the cabin grounds, biting your lip nervously at the sight of the other groups already gathered around the staged platform that took up the center of the space. You shaded your eyes, squinting against the momentary glare of the sun peeking out from behind the forest copse.

And, oh, great- not only were your nerves sufficiently wrung out just by having to drag your kids to the meeting place, your stress only mounted when you saw that you were the last group to arrive. As in, the final group to get there. The dregs. What the cat drug in.

That is to say, you were late.

Flushing, you ducked your head as you and the rest of the Coyotes joined the horde surrounding the makeshift stage, directing them quietly to stay with the other cyan-banded kids. The hair on the back of your neck prickled, and with no small amount of misery at the notion, you knew that more than one person was staring at you.

Glancing up, you made eye contact with a short man with hair approximately the same color as a waffle. The saffron-yellow of his lanyard drew your gaze, marking him as one of the counselors of the Yellow Yaks. He blinked, unfairly long eyelashes fluttering as he tilted his head, before offering you a cheeky grin. You returned it, albeit with a tad more confusion than he seemed to harbor.

It wasn’t long before your attention was directed towards the platform that everyone had gathered around, and you were glad to see one of the administration stepping out of the crowd and into the proverbial spotlight.

“Good afternoon campers,” he greeted jovially. Although he looked young, his voice was soft and gruff- more fitting for a wizened old man or an aging mad scientist. “How are we all doing today?”

The kids screamed, and wow- R.I.P. your hearing. You winced, slamming your hands onto your ears in a futile effort to block out the noise.

The man- who you now recognized as Cub, the assistant camp director, simply smiled in the face of what must’ve been a hundred shrieking children. You suppressed a pang of envy at his ability to keep his composure until you realized that it was probably because he had hearing loss.

You respected his decision, honestly. May he never have the misfortune of listening to Wonderwall ever again.

Once the tidal wave of prepubescent joy had crested, Cub raised his hands to calm the crowd. “Alright, alright. I don’t want to keep you kiddos here very long, and I have a feeling you guys don’t want that either.”

He grinned, dark eyes gleaming. Although you didn’t know the man, you distinctly got the impression of a sort of sadistic glee in the way that his crow’s feet crinkled. Either he was celebrating the chaos that would no doubt ensue in the following hours or…

No, if he could, he would definitely be laughing his ass off at your future misery. You supposed what goes around, comes around.

“Let’s get to it, campers!”

According to Cub, the rules were simple:

Firstly, each cabin would be allotted a bingo-style card with a variety of different objects on them. These objects had already been hidden all throughout Camp Hermity grounds, and it was yourself and your kids’ jobs to find them all before the other cabins could. Which was… well, the whole point of a scavenger hunt. No surprises there.

Secondly, there were no objects in the forest or beyond the camp sign. Again, that made sense. You wouldn’t want kids or counselors wandering away and accidentally getting lost, so Cub or whoever had made the rules for the game had restricted play within reasonable boundaries.

Thirdly, you could not steal items from other cabins. That, again, was self-explanatory, unless the children were particularly inclined towards committing crimes. Which they absolutely were, given how some of your Coyotes looked upset when they heard the rule.

Finally, the first cabin to return with all of their items would be in first place, winning the biggest prize, and everyone that came after them would have winnings of corresponding value to their placing.

All in all, it was a fair competition according to you, so, when the whistle blew and the entire clearing exploded into motion, you were actually less panicked than you would’ve been otherwise.

Cassidy, who appeared to have been elected the de-facto leader of the Coyotes based on the way all the kids crowded behind her, was quick to tug on your shirt. You blinked, looking away from the scrambling of the other cabins to affix your attention toward her.

“We should look by the lake,” she said firmly, a determined set to her chin that told you she wouldn’t back down.

Your eyebrows flicked up.

“Uh, wow… that was fast. Shouldn’t we ask everyone else if that’s what they want to do?”

She blinked, utterly nonplussed. “I already did, while that guy-” she waved vaguely in the direction of Cub, “-was talking. Even Harvey agreed!”

Harvey, standing a little off to the side, nodded sagely, as though this was some monumental endorsement. Though, it probably was. Although you hadn’t known the kid for very long, he was a hard one to please, if the fact that he would only wear the sunscreen he brought from home was any indication.

Rocking back on your heels, you sighed deeply. “Why do you think we should go by the lake?”

Cassidy crossed her arms, black braids swinging as she stared. Menacingly. “Because the lake’s cool.”

Hard to argue with that logic.

If you hadn’t been looking for it, you would’ve completely missed the trail leading down to the lake shore. Unlike the other main sections of the camp, including the field, sports areas, Big House, and cabins, there was no marked path for you to take. Rather, the only indicator that such a trail existed at all was a small point on your map, just a few meters away from where the volleyball pit was.

Indeed, even when you managed to find it, the way down was obscured by a multitude of trees and rocks that sprouted from the sandy soil, shading your backs as you and the kids made your way towards your destination.

Waves lapped at where the land and water met, carving deep grooves into the reddish-brown earth and carrying sediment away. Surprisingly enough, the beach itself wasn’t rocky; a notable outlier from what you’ve seen of other lakes. If you had to hazard a guess, someone must’ve came along and cleaned everything up so the children could swim or something.

Glancing at the card in hand, you noted that you only had to find six items as opposed to a normal bingo card’s 25 spaces.

“Alright guys,” you called, drawing the attention of the Coyotes. “The plan of attack is to spread out! I need you all to split into smaller groups so we can search faster.”

Harvey perked up. “Does this mean that there’ll be team leaders?”

You huffed slightly. “Just don’t go too far and I’m good with whatever you do.”

A pause. The children all blinked at you seemingly innocently, but you didn’t trust them for a second.

“I take that back. Just… don’t get into any trouble, and I won’t have to call your parents.”

If there was one thing that you had noticed, it was that the Coyotes were competitive as hell. In almost no time they had divided into separate enclaves of children, and were in the process of turning the entire ecosystem of Camp Hermity upside down in their quest to win first place.

For the most part, all you had to do was watch them. You casually strode along in their wake of destruction, watching with no small amount of amusement as Cassidy proceeded to boss everyone that would listen to her around. Harvey was no different. In fact, you almost pitied the poor kids that fell prey to his piercing command.

Their energy only increased once the first object was found: the sunglasses, delivered to your hand by an over-excited Coyote pack. It was a miracle they didn’t vibrate straight through the floor as you ticked off that part of the card with your handy pen, let alone spontaneously combust under the force of their excitement.

It was hard to stay indifferent towards their enthusiasm, and so it cut you off short when all of the kids fell suddenly quiet. Standoffish was the right word- hackles raised as they stared at the competing cabin that were picking their way across the lake shore towards you.

Your kids would be snarling if they could, and you weren’t quite sure if that was endearing on concerning.

Definitely concerning.

“Hi!” one of the counselors shouted as the group drew near, bouncing closer with a semi-feral grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

His dark hair was wild, sticking up from his head in a way that wasn’t dissimilar from a spiky seed pod, barely held back by a red strip of fabric that was tied around his forehead. His moss green eyes were alight with mischief, and that, paired with his entire demeanor, only spelled trouble for you and your Coyotes.

You raised an eyebrow, stuck between the politeness that your parents had hammered into you and the incrediculousness you harbored towards the man’s sheer audacity. “Uh, hi? Can I help you.”

If it was even possible, his smile widened. “Well, I am so glad you asked me that! Me and my buddy Scar here saw you just down the ways, and you know what I thought? I thought that you looked like some real nice people, so we thought we’d come say hello!”

Fighting the urge to snort, you nodded along like you had any idea of what he was talking about. “Sure. That makes total sense.”

He preened, fluffing up his hair with a hand. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Who are you?”

Cassidy, who you hadn’t even noticed creeping around your leg, scowled at the man, eyes narrowed until only the faintest sliver of her hazel irises were visible. You laughed, bringing a hand to your mouth to hide your snickers as the brunette gaped.

Spluttering, he flushed, turning his bronze skin a noticeably redder shade. After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself, laughing awkwardly as he once again fluffed up his hair. You tilted your head, eyeing the movement.

“Right- ‘name’s Bdubs, at your service!” he said before stepping to the said, waving an arm grandiosely behind him, “and this is my business partner, Scar!”

A part of you was embarrassed to admit that you hadn’t even noticed the person standing behind BDubs. You were doubly more so when you noticed that Scar was several inches taller, towering over both you and the other counselor with ease.

“Hellooo,” he said cheerily, drawing out the greeting in an almost song-like manner. His hair was a soft-looking mess of almond brown tidier that Bdubs’ own, and his skin was sunkissed. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties, but you could already see the beginning of laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.

Scar waved only slightly awkwardly with one hand, and it was at that moment when you spotted the crutches strapped to his forearms; and, subsequently, the medical-grade knee braces that pressed tight against the material of his jeans.

Which was- okay. You really needed to start working on your observation skills, because it was just downright mortifying to continue living like this.

Now that you were looking at him, though, you began to notice the multitude of scars that covered his body-a thin one at the corner of his mouth, a smattering of old perforations that covered his left cheek and jaw, and thick, winding gashes across what you could see of his left arm.

You were curious, obviously, but when you went to glance up you found his honey-brown gaze already centered on you. He smiled. You decided to shut up and mind your own damn business.

Rolling your attention back towards Bdubs, you sighed. “Alright. What is it you two want?”

While Bdubs once more spluttered, shouting something about how ‘he would never impose something on the newbie’, Scar pushed him out of the way with a charming grin. He looked like the cat that got the canary- and one who was quite pleased with himself, at that.

“We were wondering if you might want to team up,” he chirped, leaning forward and into your personal space. Wrinkling your nose, you lightly poked him with a finger, prompting him to chuckle and scoot back.

You looked up, meeting his eyes squarely. “Why? What do we get out of it?”

Scar grinned fully this time, all teeth. “Two teams working together will get more done that one, right? I heard that first place gets ice cream sundaes, and, well… who’s to say we can’t share?”

Some of your kids gasped, dropping their defenses, and you honestly couldn’t blame them. Ice cream was a very strong motivator.

Hesitating, you glanced towards Cassidy, who still had an octopus-grip on your leg. You nudged her slightly. “Well? What do you think?”

She looked at you incrediculously. “We work with them, duh.”

And that was that.

The Coyotes and Bdubs’ and Scar’s cabin, the Red Rabbits, worked together surprisingly well. It seemed that all it took for people to put their differences aside and combine efforts was a common goal- especially when that common goal was sweet, decadent ice cream. Especially when those people were children.

It was obvious to you that BDubs and Scar were more than familiar with each other. In fact, you had initially guessed that they had known one another for years- but they had simply laughed when you brought it up.

“Scar only joined Camp Hermity, what- two, three years ago?” Bdubs said, wiping a tear from his eye. Scar nodded, smile much softer than it had been previously. Bdubs nudged his shoulder. “‘Guess we were just meant to be best friends.”

You watched them for a moment, a smile of your own toying at the edges of your lips. “That’s sweet.”

Scar laughed. “Not as sweet as that ice cream’s gonna be!”

Although you were skeptical at first, the two were more than happy to pull you into their conversation and you searched. (i.e., watched the kids search while you lagged behind.)

It was almost too easy to fall into the easy pull and flow of their conversation, and before you knew it, you were bantering with them like you had been friends for ages.

“I have so much of these already,” Bdubs joked as he waved towards the shirt he was wearing. “I’ll have to- to set up one of those big bonfires and burn it all up for an occult ritual.”

‘What?” you laughed. “I thought you liked this camp!”

He nodded earnestly. “Oh, I do! But there has been a darkness growing within me recently.”

“Thanks for going along with our plan. Most of the other guys don’t anymore- they know better,” Scar said, steamrolling over Bdubs’ descent into madness.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, they’re boring anyways.”

A blatant lie, but it was fun to go along with the pair’s overdramatics. You didn’t think that Etho, Doc, Ren, or Xisuma would be too insulted- but you could always plead the fifth.

He bumped his shoulder with your own. “I didn’t know what to think of you at first, but you’re pretty fun. You know that?”

It was impossible to stop the blinding smile that lit up your expression right then, and you ducked your head, internally fighting back the warmth you felt. This was exactly what you wanted- for your coworkers to like you. In fact, it had been your biggest worry with applying for a job here, and having Scar’s approval felt like striking gold.

“Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more kicking everyone’s asses.”

Scar’s eyebrows flicked up, a ridiculous grin blooming across his face. Bdubs’ whole expression leaped a step beyond pure delight.

You didn’t know it yet, but right then? You had solidified yourself as someone with the potential to be their favorite person.

https://forms.gle/7RN42uid463Kr2KFA (Response collection ends at 8:00 AM on 9/20!)

@bookmark-anon @shifted-dreams @peanut-is-freed @sina-the-idiot @itsonlydana @redactedsouls @shjdriyy @demi-writes-fics @massivewaffle @marshallol @icarusthefoolish @minepugs @blockyshieldmaiden @frog-that-writes @blufr0st @thegeekisheere @fayeisuppose @sunflowersare-yellow @emma0nline @i-n-o-s-u-k-e @cloudburst14 @lunarheartsposts @bapthadapper

#mori's archive #tw: mild language #tw: suggestive humor #tw: death mention

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unfinishedjulyrain · 10 months

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👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 ALL THE SHIPS EVERYONE YOU CAN THINK OF ONE FOR

send 👀 for a dirty thought and/or fantasy my muse has had about yours.・❥・@mournus

Hana: "What dirty thought or fantasy did I not have about him? Well, to be fair, a new one comes along almost every day and I don't mind repeating them in my head over and over again. When things are pretty serious and he discusses matters with his crew, leaning over the wooden table with the big map, I can't help imagining him bending me over exactly that spot, my chest squished on top of it. Oh and if Nachim whispered foreign words in my ear? Even better. But really, anything he does... this smile... I don't know if he would ever be interested in me pole dancing for him. That's my fantasy, watching him as he watches me. I practiced, I know I can do it. With clothes, without clothes. But with the jewelry he gifted me."

Tadashi: Tadashi blushes for a whole minute before he goes on. "I like to think that Haru has a very nice... bottom, any part of Haru, really! Just that my mind drifts to their butt and I can't help the thought how juicy it looks. And is. I'm not very... I might be a bit boring in that sense so I have to rely on Haru a lot to show me the ropes but I love seeing Haru in cute oufits, daring outfits... so my fantasy is to see Haru a little tied up while I caress each part of them, maybe with a toy, maybe with my hands, or something else. I love Haru, I think I'd do anything they ask of me."

Dahlia: "Haru's my little plaything, my one and only. More than often do I think how precious Haru looks, especially stripped off of clothes with just this cute pink collar. So as for a fantasy, I want Haru to taste my blood, to endulge in its sweetness and feel my arousal through it. Haru riding me is a fantasy that lives in my head rent-free and that enough gives me so much energy, I need to let it out somehow."

Manshik: Is he really going to say such things about a friend he has not seen in centuries? "Maybe it's because I haven't seen Jongsu for so long and especially in that form that makes me wonder how he looks underneath, human bodies are different than our true forms, they actually give you so much more room to explore. I will never tell him because I don't want to scare Jongsu off but to dig my fingers into that ass and press him against me? Enough to get me excited."

Otohime: "Kaili is so sweet, I felt welcomed the second I met them," Otohime chirps. "Maybe this is too light for dirty thoughts or fantasies but I just want to be near Kaili, the rest comes with it. If they want to go further, we can. If not, I am very much content just laying there and look at the stars, the sea, talk about anything. Allow me to say though that I'd love to know how their lips taste."

Goeun ( about Mai ): "Mai's stares didn't go unnoticed, they make me feel a little hot and bothered. Why do I imagine sitting on her lap and rolling my hips while waiting in my dressing room?" Goeun holds her burning cheeks. "That's... keeping me awake, to be honest."

Goeun ( about Kaho ): "Can I have such thoughts about Kaho-san? We barely met and yet, I can't help but imagine how my fingertips would feel on his skin... or how our bodies would press against each other, barely clothed. I am a vampire, I am a little more on the passionate side but this is new... my heart is not beating but I still feel these chills all over my body. It's like his voice lured me in."

#mournus #( * ic; letters answered )#nachim & hana #ariel & captain jack #haru & tadashi #haru & dahlia #jongsu & manshik #kaili & otohime #mai & goeun #kaho & goeun #i did them aaaall

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palettepainter · 1 year

Text

I know I said I was on break from MHA at the moment, and that still stands, I got a lot of smaller projects I want to try and get done this month, but I’ve been thinking about Stain recently and this what if story has been bouncing about in my head for a while

Imagine if you will: Stain, the hero killer, protecting the ground in which All Might’s statue stands. He does not stand for anyone trespassing on that sacred ground, god help anyone he catches daring to try and vandalise it. They are struck down fast. The stupid sign they keep putting up, he cuts it down every time, and everytime he does, they put a new one - a man must sleep afterall, not even Stain can stay awake forever, and those valuable hours of him not on watch are spent by vandals destroying what is left of All Might

Then, this lady appears

This nobody, this random women, this civilian who somehow slipped past him, decided to intrude on sacred ground. She approaches the statue, Stain has come to expect certain reactions - despite this lady not looking like a typical vandal his grip tightens on his blade, he’s prepared to strike. Then - she does something curious - she takes off the sign. Stain’s eyes widen by a fraction, but he doesn’t loosen the grip on his blade

He watches from a distance as she pulls out a cloth from her pocket and begins to buff out the dents and grim that have made themselves comfy on the statue, grime and buffs that Stain cannot get rid of, does not have the proper tools to deal with. Even in the pouring rain as she becomes soaked from the downpour she continues her thorough work on cleaning the statue till it shines like new with a focused expression. She leaves without ever knowing Stain was there

The next day, she is back, Stain watches again, curious - the same thing repeats, she touches up the statue, cleans it up, arrives at the exact same time every day. No matter the weather, she appears, after a while Stain stops reaching for his blade on second nature - it’s almost like he can relax when knowing she is in the area, like she’s taking over his job of watch duty and - just a little bit - Stain can let his tense shoulders drop

Stain learns about this women, curious of her origins: he figured she was staying in a shelter nearby, maybe she was a resident from one of the many previously standing buildings. Through some digging, he learns of her life - her character, that she protects All Might’s honour and name fiercely, that she was the last person All Might ever saved. A one sided respect is formed, and Stain allows her to pass freely to the statue without his suspicious gaze boring holes into her. He still watches, observes her only and always from afar, never close enough to be spotted, but always lingering near.

One day as usual, as she’s cleaning the statue, some vandals interrupt her. Stain’s crimson eyes are narrowed dangerously, hand reaching for his blade - the women places herself at the foot of the statue, bravely clinging to her umberella as her only means of defence and taking up a brave stance - it almost made up for the fact she was trembling. Stain was on them like a hawk, placing himself between them and the statue - Stain didn’t even need to get violent, they where gone with their tails between their legs seconds after he warned them to never come back. Stain stands heaving for air as if the confrontation had drawn every once of energy from him

He turns, the statue unharmed, and the mysterious lady standing shaken besides it. The two hold eye contact, and Stain’s tense, rigid form relaxes, just a little, seeing that she is the only one there and the trouble makers are gone. He leaves before she can say a word, disappearing into the rubble and leaving her alone in the rain. She does not follow him, does not seek him out or call after him, she simply returned to her cleaning and left without a sound hours later. The next few days, she does not show, Stain wonders if he scared her off, in the back of his mind he wonders if - maybe - those vandals caught up to her and decided to enact some revenge. The thought sets off an unpleasant feeling inside him, something akin to grief - like Stain had lost an alley

Then, the women appears. She is uncomfortably rigid the entire time she cleans the statue, throwing occasional, cautious glances over her shoulder to observe the area for anyone - for him. Stain keeps watch from afar, only sparing glances her way when her back is turned. Where had she been? She didn’t appear injured, why hadn't she shown?? She leaves like normal, and Stain prepared himself to return to his perch atop a still partially standing building where he could watch for intruders- but then he spots it, a small plastic bag was sitting at the statue.

Stain pauses, eyeing the bag with wary like he expects it to blow up or if it was some sort of trick. After staring for several minutes, he walks over, easily jumping up on top of the large pillar the statue stands on and grabs the bag. He pulls it closer with one hand, untying the knot at the top to reveal three small tupperware boxes of food, must be from the shelter, he thought. Stain blinks, actually taken aback, not expecting food. Briefly, he wonders if this truly is for him, but then who else was it for? Not like he saw anyone else come in or out cleaning the statue. Perhaps this was thanks the lady's way of saying “hey, thanks for not killing me the other day, have some food”

Even if it wasn’t for him, it was his now. Good food was hard to come by unless you where in a shelter, and any small cafe joints around the area had been picked clean. Stain eats, for the first time in four days, he had to restrain himself from eating everything at once. The next day the lady comes back again, continuing her cleaning on the statue and cautious over the shoulder glances. A day later, she finds the bag and empty Tupperware tucked behind the statue, not a crumb of food left.

The two form a..somewhat silent friendship: Stain allows her to clean the statue and do what she needs to do (jumping in if anyone is so stupid as to try and vandalise the statue or her work) and she leaves him little bits by the statue in thanks: another tupperware tub of food, a flask of hot coffee, a blanket, two bottles of fresh water. It feels..nice, grounding almost, the little routine they have in place. Her presence becomes something he’s customed too, so much that if she doesn’t show, he begins to think of the reasons why

I’m not too sure if this would ever happen, but imagining a scenario where Stain - after running out of his supply of food and not going a few days without sleep, gets jumped on by some Tartarus break outs and almost ends up dying. They leave him for dead, after they nearly destroy the statue which Stain fiercely defended. The last thing Stain seeing is that very statue with some ugly graffiti tainting it, and the sound of a gasp and feet rushing towards him. He’s barely conscious, but he manages to make out a familiar face, the face of a women hurriedly examining his bloodied face and body. Stain can’t make out what words she’s saying, but when he feels himself being moved, he gets the sense that he’s not in danger, so doesn’t try to fight her off (not that he could in the condition he was in)

She tucks him away inside a small ground floor of a half decimated building. the ceiling leaks and it’s drafy, but it’s more or less sheltered. Stain is pretty much a hissing, feral cat when this timid women approaches him with her cleaning cloth and attempts to wash off the blood - despite being timid however, and clearly scared, she does not back away, her tone more gentle then her face suggests as she reaches over to wipe at a deep cut on his shoulder. Stain tries again to shake her off, but she only moves till she can reach the wound again and continues to clean it. Eventually, Stain allows it, sitting without a word and not even hissing or flinching once as she tends to the more serious wounds. Some wounds are deeper then others, they’ll need tending to she says, stitching's - she leaves Stain with an order to stay put (with a pleading please at the end) and rushes off into the rain, completely forgetting her umbrella. Forty minutes later, she returns with a needle and a first aid kit

Stain bristles like a cat, attempting to stand up despite her requests (Stain promptly fell back on his ass cuz ouch everything hurt) - but with the same stern yet gentle tone she insists Stain needs to be treated, she will clean the statue, but only after he is healed, claiming she won’t be the one to sit by and let him bleed out after all he’d done to keep that statue standing. Stain glares at her hotly, snorting...but after a bit more percussion, and acceptance that his condition was not good, Stain sits himself down on the floor and lets her get to work.

She recleans wounds, uses antibacterial, stitches the deeper wounds, dresses them in bandages - all the while Stain remains unresponsive, only biting his cheek a little when the needle first pierced his skin. He responds in short, curt answers whenever she asks him if anything hurts, or if the bandages feel too tight. Stain does not like being cared for, mostly because he hasn’t had anyone do so for a long time...still, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Perhaps a tiny part of him could concede it felt nice to have someone tend to his injuries. Stain’s sense of taste is pretty much gone thanks to the blood he has to taste to activate his quirk, so her continued offerings of food she leaves at the statue after the encounter are welcome. One time when the lady comes out to clean the statue in a god-forsaken STORM Stain drags her into his little hide away to keep her dry, maybe he could appreciate her company, let his guard down around her. The two end up in there longer then he thought, and she starts to shiver from the cold.

Stain isn’t sure how it ended up with the two sitting huddled on the floor with her by his side for warmth, he also isn’t sure when she fell asleep and took a small nap, and why he didn’t move when her head fell on his shoulder - curiously, he finds himself not minding, and lets her rest till the storm passes

After a while, when she spots him watching her, she no longer tenses like a deer in headlights, it’s like she’s greeting an old friend when she gives him a polite bow of her head and a smile, small, but genuine. The two sometimes chat from time to time, mostly about All Might and opinions on the state of society, but soon she is asking about him: does he need anymore food? is there anything else he needs? what about his wounds, how are they healing? Stain is always to the point with these answers, but once again, he finds himself not minding her questions, even beginning to appreciate the concern. This women eventually falling under Stain’s official protection, as she walks back to the shelter from cleaning the statue Stain watches her go from the rooftops, only returning back once he sees her go through those doors and she’s inside again, safe. One day some low life criminals running into her on her way to the statue, no body actually threatening, but one of them gave her a decent cut in her arm that tore her cardigan. Stain recognises that irony smell, and is grabbing her arm (oddly gentle like for the hero killer) to examine the wound closer. Stain getting her some bandage and covering up the wound to prevent infection, searching his memory for faces and criminal names as she describes in hesitant detail her attackers

Can you tell I’ve thought about this too much????

#MHA #Stain #Random lady #Prolly gonna give her a name and a whole personality #Please listen to me and my ramblings

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rawmeknockout · 2 years

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Hope I can squeeze one last request in before they close. Could I get Starscream fucking reader and Bee's ghost shows up, reader can't see him but Starscream can so he just decides to put on a grand show for the very flustered Bumblebee please?

//boy this was a doozy to write sorry if its not that hot or doesnt have a ton of tasty details i was more focused on trying to fit two perspectives in one ficlet//

You're so incredibly tight around Starscream, mewling and moaning under him, just like he remembers. When he had been Air Commander, with his trine by his side, and you as his newest little 'project'. An apprentice. He had been insulted at the time that Megatron would insist he teach you: a quivering new seeker with not an ounce of promise or potential. It was up to Starscream to make you, build you up, show you how to use the wings you took for granted.

That had been centuries ago.

What he had once seen as an insult is now a gift. Even with a crown on his head, you're his only true supporter. Power was supposed to fix everything, but it has only made life worse for Starscream. But, even here, you are still by his side. He's lost his trine, his chance to lead the Decepticons, the chance to put Megatron in his place, but you are still here. If only he had known so long ago how pivotal you would become to his sanity. You used to cling to his side, like he would protect you from the harms of the world, and it had felt all too good to be liked.

Starscream grants you gentle kisses down your neck cables, hissing when your pointed digits dig into his wing joints. You're the only person he can trust, the only person he can count on to have his back.

Then, there's that tell-tale shimmer of light. Starscream almost misses it, he's so used to seeing Bumblebee, but his optics snap up to catch the shocked, nearly flustered look on that little bug's face. He's stock-still, not even the twitch of a door wing, optics darting from your writhing form to Starscream's face. Star keeps optic contact with Bumblebee as he fucks you harder.

If only they had met under different circumstances, if only Bee were more than a hallucination. But at least he can't leave. He knows that the real Bumblebee would never befriend him, guide him, but he likes to delude himself into thinking there may be two people he can trust. There's always the chance you could betray him. It's low but not none. Bee cannot do that now. Bee also can't touch him, something that Starscream has mourned on more than one occasion. He tries to shake it off, it's not like this Bumblebee is anything more than a figment of his broken psyche.

Bee's mouth is unfortunately dry, but he doesn't dare move an inch. It may break the moment, startle Starscream out of their intense stare-down, and the heat with which he pins Bee to the spot makes him feel seen. For once in a very long time. He wonders if his own optics betray his desire to touch, to be in the moment, perhaps squished between those two seeker frames. Can Starscream see that? His ghostly frame, so detached from the physical world he longs for, heats up in a way he thinks it shouldn't. It only worsens when his gaze darts down to your body, wriggling and bucking on Starscream's spike. Bee can only imagine what it must be like on top of you in the same way.

When your servos skitter over Starscream's turbines, digits sinking into vents, Star leans over to kiss you feverishly. Only breaking optic contact with Bee at the very last moment. If only he could have the little yellow bug here, where he could touch and love and taste the only mechs he hungers for. Just for now, it's satisfying enough to make Bee squirm on the spot.

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ria-writes-stories · 5 months

Text

Ship: Envy

Genre: Glass-ish cotton

Description: Comfort time

Title: You shine brighter

----------------------

(No one's pov)

The library is a great place for many things. You can go there to do whatever your heart desires. To quietly read a book, to imagine yourself within wonderful worlds, or to simply dig deeper into the meaning of this plain of reality and existence called 'life'. However, it was a great place for many other things. For secrets never to be spoken, for whispers never to be heard and for tears never to be seen.

This was a place for many more uses than anyone could imagine, so that is why when one uses it for a purpose, they are surprised to see another using it with a whole different one.

N was happily reading a book about the many different breeds of dogs. It was a book series that Tessa has placed in the library specially for him. Each month a new one appeared, each book focusing on three breeds of dogs and how they were created throughout the years, as such getting to also learn about even more dog breeds under the pretext of learning about the history of just one! How exciting was that?! Truly it was a wonderful experience for N. These four-pawed fluffy creatures were so appealing to him, no matter their size, shape, or form and purpose. He saw them all so unique, perhaps because that is what drones like him were as well. In the eyes of humans, he was just a drone, but in the eyes of a more attentive person he was N, a distinguished person of his own, with his purpose, his role, and his personality. His favorite dog breed was the golden retriever. Therefore he was more than enthusiastic when the newest book had this specific dog breed explained through its pages, but he did not yet get to read about it because he heard soft quiet aggitated sighs, as if someone was hiccuping.

He didn't expect that at all. Who was making these noises? What were the cause for them? He couldn't know until he'd go find out so that is what he did.

V was on her knees, cowering in the furthers corner of this library where everything was covered in dust.

She was softly crying in her palms, hiding from the world, hiding from everyone and everything that could possibly see her in such state.

"V?" A gentle soothening voice called out to her with great worry and concern filling it's soft tender calling, as she felt two pairs of eyes softly brushing her with their gaze, wondering what has brought such pain upon her wonderful heart, and begging for an answer.

V looked up to see N as she quickly turnedh er face around and cleaned her tears immediately. "What's wrong?" N asked with a sadden voice as it pained him greatly to see her in such a state, he couldn't possibly phantom as to why she was in it, and he wanted to help her more than anything. "I-I'm fine N." V said as she sniffed softly, cleaning her tears without taking her glasses into consideration, forgetting the tears that have dropped upon them there.

N gently approached her and slowly placed his hand upon her shoulder in a comforting manner. "If you don't want to talk about it I won't force you." N said with a sadden smile as V looked at him, feeling vulnerable and weak, unsure of what to think or do, but her heart overwhelmed with the sorrow's of her mind and she ended up softly leaning against his touch as N sat down next to her.

V couldn't help it. She felt lost, and even if he was there it felt like he wasn't, as if he couldn't possibly understand what was bothering her heart. "V..." N cooed softly as he gently placed one of his hands upon hers.

"I'm jealous." The girl said without thinking. "Jealous...? Of who?" The boy asked innocently as he couldn't unerstand her words. "The sky and everything within it, the stars and especially the sun. Every book I read they are adored and worshipped and- I don't know, it feels like people only love big things distant and mysterious... it makes me think that... nevermind, it's stupid." The girl said getting up as she shifted away from him, looking at the ground sadly with a heavy heart.

N gave her a symphatetic look and he looked to the side looking at the floor on which the beaming light of the sun laid upon, making it's way through the windows. N suddenly got up and gently picked her off the ground, placing her on her feet as his hands gently traced their soft caring touch on her's until they landed on her palms and parted from her as he continued to give her a charming warm smile as he began to step away backwards.

V looked at him puzled and confused, as a soft blush rested upon her visor, right above her cheeks, being taken off guard by his actions. "N-n?" V asked with pure innocence within her eyes as he continued to get away from her until he reached a window and pulled the covers from the left side over the window. The winodws were so huge that they needed dual curtains, so there was one for the left side of the window, and one for the right side.

"Come one! Help me put these in place!" He said with cheerfully as he took more distance from her, running from her playfully as he signed her to follow him with one hand, looking at her with a beaming smile before fully turning around from her and running down the hallways of the library. "N-N! Wait!" V called out confused as her eyes slightly widen as her blush deepened from his innocently charming smile as she went after him, but not without stopping by each window to close the right curtain, playing the little scheme that he has put into motion.

N was of course faster than her, and V struggled to keep up, soon enough N was lost within the library, as V could only see him via the windows, looking at their curtains, seeing when one closed, as the high bookshelves covered her entire view of where he was and where he could be, as his footsteps echoed into the room. V was startled but she tried to keep up as much as possible.

When all finished V found herself looking left and right trying to see where N was, when she heard footsteps and ran after them. "N!!! Wait up!"

She called out to him, following the noise of his footsteps but before she knew it she was in the middle of the library, where it was pitch black dark and of course she lost track of the clanking sounds his shoes made against the floor. V looked around fearfully and concerned, unsure of what to do.

"Look around." N's voice called out from somewhere behind a bookshelf and V was ready to take a step closer but when she was about to his voice rang again. "Don't move! Stay there!" N said softly as his voice shifted to behind another shelf. How was he doing this? She had no clue, but his instructions were confusing and derutating. What was all of this for?

"Look around you. What do you see?" N asked as his voice cooed out from different spots of the library. His voice was soft and gentle and V looked towards the spot from wherever his voice came from but never moving.

"Darkness." She replied unsure of what sort of game this was. "Look closer." *N spoke out from his current hiding spot as he was constantly changing it, his footsteps being fainly heard from a distance.

V didn't know what to look at as everything was dark, so, she ended up looking at her hands, and she had the surprise that the closer she brought them to her face, the better she could see them, as her visor's light gently shined upon them.

"The stars and the sun are big and bright, but not even they can light up this tiny room. You shine brighter than all of them." N said in a soft gentle tone as he came up from behind V and rested his palms upon hers, as she softly brought them to her chest over her heart, as her head shot up and her eyes widen from surprise, a blush covering her face as she could feel her heartbeat pounding against her chest as while he softly pressed his chest against her back and lovingly held her in his arms.

"Uhm- What...were you reading before all of this?" V asked awkwardly as she tried to break the deafening silence as her heart could no longer take it.

It was too much for her pure innocent soul. N simply smiled and replied joyfully. "I was reading about dogs! I just got to my favourite dog breed! I could read the chapter to you one day!"

*N kept his promise, and he read her the chapter...* "Golden retrivers also have gentle mouths! Awwwwwwwwh! That's why they are so good with kids!"

In this dark stormy night, she was the brightest light within the library, and like the sun that stood still and stiff, he orbited around her, reading to her every single time of the day when he got a break from his duties.

She was his brightest light, even if she couldn't see it herself, even if she was now just as distant as the stars upon the sky was, as she couldn't be reached in the state that she was. Even so, she could hear it all, and when he wasn't around it was like she could also hear his words the day before she ended up like this.

"You shine the brightest"

The end

#murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones envy

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