Tumgik
#little drabble thing
stagnation-if · 6 months
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Even if seth betrayed us I would want to send them a sweet dream and visit him in it to say I'm not angry and I understand that sometimes gods die even by the hands of a friend.
Seth dreams of you—he dreamed of you even when you were, as contemporaries would put it, “out of service”—but dreams are somehow more bitter than any nightmare. Good things tend to do that to Seth, they make him feel a strange suffocation he can't shake.
He wakes up after dreaming of you, you in all your glory, forgiving and sweet like daffodils, brandishing your kindest smile. It’s a sight he hates to see even now. Hates it enough to stand though his limbs are numb and tired, stubbornly determined to stay awake so as to not give you the upper hand— the knowledge that Seth is thinking of the Deity of Dreams.
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dropout-if · 8 months
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Wanda's reaction to MC and Gabi surprising her with breakfast in bed?
“Don’t drop it,” Gabi repeats for the hundredth time, glancing at the enormous tray you’re using to precariously balance her mother’s breakfast.
You ask the little girl, “Why are we even giving her so much food, Gabi?”
“Mama eats a lot in the morning. Plus, they said breakfast is the most important meal of the day— at school!” Gabi nods confidently. She smiles—that grin that’s missing a couple of teeth—and waits for your reply.
“And the sprinkles?” you prompt with an amused look.
“Fairies—” Gabi’s latest obsession, “fairies make sprinkles and sprinkles are the—”
You vaguely listen to her rant, more focused on keeping the food on the tray as you and Gabi approach Wanda’s bedroom—and you bite back a laugh, when you hear her light snoring, which Gabi often calls a dragon’s cough.
“Knock lightly,” you warn her and, though Gabi nods, she still bangs her little fist on the door “Okay— Nevermind.”
There’s a little choking sound from inside as Gabi gets on her tiptoes, opens the bedroom door and says (loudly), “Surprise!”
Wanda hastily—and groggily—takes off her sleeping mask, hair tussled, her eyes are still half-open and riddled with sleep as she struggles to keep them open. You swear you hear her mumble, “Who died?”
Which you suppose is better than her cursing in front of Gabi.
“We made you breakfast,” you clarify. Gabi tugs on your shirt, and you add, “Surprise!”
Wanda rubs her eyes, finally looks at you with a smile equal parts exhausted and adoring. She stretches, pulls off the covers—which is practically a sign for Gabi to throw herself on the bed.
“We worked hard,” she lies—unless adding the sprinkles last minute is indeed Gabi’s definition of hard work. “The fairies helped, too.”
Wanda nods solemnly at Gabi’s words, gives you a fond look, makes grabby hands until you hand her the trail. “Damn, that’s heavy— Oh, that’s a lot!”
You and Gabi share a glance— the little girl shrugs a little.
“You two~” Wanda coos, looking a little more awake “The lights of my life! If you keep being so cute— my heart is going to melt!”
And when Gabi is too busy munching on a sprinkle-covered pancake, Wanda sneaks you a kiss.
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lovebites-if · 7 months
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OOOH Val's reaction if MC gets a papercut/is bleeding? cue Jasper montage lmao
bouncing off of that ask, imagine Val's reaction if MC just staggered in dripping blood, declared "Bar fights suck" and just sat down, with a poorly wrapped bandage.
MC😭😭💕
Part 1 kinda
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“Bar fights? You—” Val pouts, frowns, they sigh and seem to give up on something “You really don’t think, do you?”
“Hey— Now you’re just being rude.”
The vampire always seems to be in complete control of their actions and emotions, and perhaps that’s always been an attempt to also control their thirst for you. You don’t know. Val rarely elaborates. Their pupils are dilated—like a shark—and their mouth seems to be watering.
You were taught to be terrified of anything looking at you the way Val is glaring.
“What are you waiting for? Take your shirt off already,” they boss you around with a small huff “You’re bleeding out... I’m almost disappointed all that blood is yours.”
Like a piece of meat dangling in front of an apex predator. You decide to tease a bit. Just to even up the score.
“Hungry?”
Maybe this isn’t your best moment. You decide not to let Val answer, you keep speaking, and add, “Ah, don’t worry. I’ve already wrapped a bandage...”
“How are you alive?” Val wonders with an admittedly rude hint of disbelief “Take your shirt off— it wasn’t a suggestion, you know? Take it off. I’ll take care of this. Or I will eat you. Your choice, pet.”
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months
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you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
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teddybeartoji · 13 days
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
thinking about roomie!suguru, who steps out of the bathroom with just a towel hanging loosely around his waist. it's dangerously low and his happy trail is... leading your eyes to a forbidden place. water droplets cascade down his temple and his neck, his scarred chest and his toned muscles.
he finishes drying his hair with another, smaller towel before slinging it over his shoulder. he gives you a warm smile. there's still a bit of sleep in his tired eyes but he looks fresh, he looks good.
(he looks more than good.)
the morning light shines in through the small window of your shared kitchen and he hums at the smell of coffee. you're an angel leaning on the counter, hands busy with preparing your drink as he steps inside.
he chuckles. he asked you a question but you didn't hear it. he smells so fucking good; the smell of his shampoo and his fancy conditioner wash over your senses and it's easy to forget where you are. his eyes flick behind you before walking over to you with a smug little grin.
he bores his sharp purple eyes into yours – he loves how you react to him. he doesn't shy away from it, he's cockier than he looks. he loves the attention, he loves to be in your spotlight. he wouldn't care so much if you were a stranger, if you were a random person on the street ogling away, ut you're neither of those things, are you? no, you're something else.
he exudes warmth as he towers over you, his head tilted down to keep his eyes on you. he wants to play with you a little – he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. eyes big and wide, lip tucked under between your teeth. he's good with people, he can read them like a book and you're no different. he sees you swallow a dry lump, he sees you grace him with a flustered smile as you try to brush by the fact that he caught you admiring him red handed. he sees the way you're taking deeper breaths than normal, surely just to keep your composure. he can't wait to break you.
his arm reaches behind you to turn off the coffee machine with a small click.
"wouldn't wanna make a mess this early in the morning, now would we?"
melting. crumbling. falling down to your knees. you hate how much he teases (you love it), you hate how patronizing he sounds (it's hot). he's the only one that can get away with it – a charming smile that hides his deepest desires of sinking his teeth into little lambs like you, soft eyes that hide the need to watch them unfold before him.
his gentle hands long to hold, long to keep and covet. he thinks about you a lot; your shared mornings and afternoons, your exhausted naps and bitter rants about your days. shy gazes and lingering touches, stupid jokes and the cute little hidden sounds he keeps hearing from your room in the late hours. he's being patient, he's warming you up.
he's just as infatuated with you as you are with him. he's just more subtle with it.
or is he?
because you've heard him, too.
you don't know whether he's doing it unknowingly or he's actually trying to make you go insane – whichever it is, you are ready to bend at his will. soft groans accompanied by a steady slick pump; you didn't mean to listen in. you just wanted to make sure he's okay!
ear against the wooden door, you listened to him think about you. your name was on the tip of his tongue, but it was too early for that. he wants to smear you with his honey, he wants to drag you in but he needs to wait for it. this is perfect.
he did know you're were there.
he heard the floor creak, he heard the cutest gasp that left your pretty lips. fuck, you're perfect. his head was lolled back as he stroked himself to the thought of your wide, doe-eyes. how flustered you'd be, how flustered you were in that very moment. he imagined your trembling hands and your stuttered words and his dick twitched in his palm.
he thought about inviting you in and just making him watch as a form of punishment, for being a little pervert. he shuddered out a laugh and watched a glob of pre-cum cover his own fingers before mixing with the saliva and spit that's covering him already. he thought about making you sit between his legs so he could jerk off right in front of your beautiful face, he thought about your wobbly lips, your teary eyes. the way your thighs would press together.
your fingers would itch and twitch and he'd make you place them on your legs. he wouldn't want you to touch. yet. maybe he'd make you apologize and maybe he'd make you kiss the tip. he thought about how good you'd smell, how good you'd taste. another raspy groan crawled up his throat and you were about to cum untouched behind his door. like a creep.
he loves it. he's proud of you, he wants to push you even further. he wants to see what else he can make you do. this is exciting and he can't wait to devour you whole as a reward after he's done bullying himself into your body and your mind. utterly loved and corrupted—
— you're meant for him.
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gardenofnoah · 7 months
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“baby?”
he looks more like a cornered dog than a person right now, and yet against all sense, you approach. even like this, touya would never hurt you. it doesn’t even cross your mind—after all, he’s done this for you.
and what he’s done stains his hands and your new dress. he blinks down at both like he can’t quite wrap his mind around the hue of it.
“baby,” you repeat, as softly as you can manage, “look at me.”
he does, after a moment—you watch him come back to you, loyal as he always was. blue eyes find your own, and there’s something about them that is always so unmarred by all of this. touya may do terrible things, but his eyes are those of a child who’s only ever sought out praise.
“did he hurt you?”
it’d been a rare date that he’d decided to take you on, which really was just greasy food shared between you at the dive bar down the street. it mattered little to you—you were just as happy to lean against his shoulder in that torn up booth. the walk home was the problem.
you’d noticed some guy watching you in the bar. that was the thing about dull men—they never noticed touya until it was too late. he was never any bark—only devastating bite. he’d gotten up when you did, and followed you out into the street. he’d reached out to grab you by the jacket you wore—touya’s jacket—and there was no taking back that.
“no,” you murmur, “you’d never let him, touya.”
he nods, stiff. he’s still a little far away—even knowing that you weren’t hurt, it’s the thought of it that will eat at him the rest of the night. you’ve been here before—he’d pull away if you let him.
you don’t. you close the distance between you, tucking yourself under his chin and squeezing around his middle, all but forcing him to let go of the breath he’s been holding on to.
“oi—your dress—“
“don’t care,” you nuzzle into his chest, affectionate and preening. “you kept me safe.”
there’s a rumbling in his chest at that—something animal that keens at the recognition. he is your protector—he’d never let anyone hurt you.
he doesn’t touch you—he doesn’t want to ruin all the effort you took to look so pretty for him—but he lets you hang off his arm the rest of the way home, careful to shield you—from the road, from other people, from anything.
at all costs, touya protects what he loves.
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sobbing and crying because i got this wrapper on a chocolate
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and i immediately thought of this:
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These kids will be the death of him.
Steve already knew this, mind you, he just thought the threat of actually dying from anything having to do with them was finally behind him for good.
But today.
Today, El was given a chocolate.
It was a leftover from Easter, one of those ones that has some sort of phrase typed on the inside of the wrapper (She probably shouldn’t have even eaten it, does chocolate go bad? They’re in the end of summer now..).
The kids were all at Steve’s, taking a last bit of a breather together before school started again. Before he, Robin, and Eddie make their move to Chicago. Before they’ll all be separated until a holiday rolls around.
Steve was lounging back on one of the chairs at the edge of his pool when El came up to him; Robin was on a chair of her own on his left, and Eddie, his darling boyfriend (Boyfriend! Can you believe that??), floating amongst the other gremlins still in the pool.
El’s shadow blocked the sun from his face when she stepped up to the other side of his chair, looking down at him with a determined look on her face (though the look is softened immensely by her chewing).
He smiles up at her, “What can I do for you, Bells?”
She doesn’t say anything, just swallows down whatever was still in her mouth and leans forward to hug him tightly around his arms and chest.
“Whoa, hey, You okay?” he says, starting to panic a bit, sitting up straight while wrapping an arm back around her. She’s not normally touchy or affectionate to others outside Hopper and the Byers, so he’s concerned, okay?
“I am okay,” she says, pulling back and handing him a shiny something. Steve takes it from her, recognizing as soon as he takes it, reading the chocolate’s message.
‘Hug the sunlight.’ is typed into the center of the foil.
El starts to explain before he can ask. “Eddie always calls you ‘Sunshine’, so I concluded this meant you.” She nods once in finality, and turns on her heel back to the chair she was sharing with Max.
Like he said, these kids are going to be the death of him.
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proxycrit · 4 months
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Part 1 / Part 2
Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.
“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”
“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.
Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.
Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.
“Elesa? What do you think?”
Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”
Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.
Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.
Like right now.
The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.
“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”
“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.
“Elesa, help!”
Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.
“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.
Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.
The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.
“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“
“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.
“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”
Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)
“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.
“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”
And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.
And here’s the thing—
— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.
The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.
He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.
But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.
—-
So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-
-the sound of laughter-
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-EMMET! Elesa cried-
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-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.
(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)
Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.
Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)
Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:
“Are you real?”
Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.
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“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-
“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“
Elesa reaches. Hesitates.
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Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.
She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming
You came back
You’re here
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I’m not alone anymore.
Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.
The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.
You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.
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“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.
AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.
YOU LEFT!
Emmet winces.
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You- You left us, you left me-
Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.
Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.
You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.
“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”
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Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.
And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.
(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)
“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.
Hope, he thinks. So he says this:
“I know how to get Ingo home.”
NOTES:
AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)
Thanks for reading this monster of a post!
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dropout-if · 7 months
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imagine if after fwb Kai gets annoyed at mc being jealous at a party they find themself jealous of mc flirting with someone? and maybe mc is, uh, a bit…annoyed at kai’s reaction since kai was mad at mc for being jealous and..now kai’s jealous?
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Part 1👁️
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Kai adores how you look, how you look when you’re flirting— they adore it just as much as they hate it when it’s someone else on the receiving end of your attention. It brings out the pettiest, ugliest sides Kai keeps tucked away under lock and key.
It’s even uglier, how much Kai wants to bang their head against the counter.
“Fuck it,” they finally shrug, order a shot and down it like it’s water.
It’s the liquid courage in them that makes Kai stomp in your direction, bumping against the person you’re flirting with (you’ve better taste than that, c’mon, they’re not even that pretty) and pretending they’re sorry.
Pettily, Kai shrugs at them, “Oops.” Then they turn in your direction, “Whatcha doing?”
“Having fun,” you practically deadpan. And Kai knows, they can tell, you’re annoyed (they just can’t figure out why) and that’s even more annoying.
“Cute,” they snap. Kai clears their throat, fingers twitching by their sides. They say, “If you’re doing this to get on my nerves—”
“Who’s doing anything to get on your nerves?” now you’re even more annoyed, oh shit.
“Well— You are,” Kai doesn’t know exactly sure, but they’re way too in to back out now, “I don’t fucking know, [Name]! I’m drunk.”
You sigh tiredly, it’s a look Kai doesn’t like— reminds them of high school.
“Just go home. You are really drunk.”
“Yeah,” drunk and something else. “I caught the bartender eyeing me, I might invite them back.”
“Whatever, Kai.”
As they walk away, annoyed and ugly and petty in all the possible ways, Kai does a poor imitation of your voice “Whatever, Kai.”
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lovebites-if · 7 months
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OOOH Val's reaction if MC gets a papercut/is bleeding? cue Jasper montage lmao
(romanced/crushing Val btw* mdmks)
The small vampire seizes your wrist, their grip is soft and freezing cold—when and how they got to your side so quickly, you don’t know—they hold your hand up to their eye height (which isn’t that high, but oh well). And then you see Val lick their lips, they stare at your finger, at the blood tickling down your skin.
“What are you doing?” you ask a bit heatedly.
With a slow blink, Val snaps out of their stupor, they look up at you—the corner of their lips tilt upward, and then they part open—Val leans in until your finger is inside their mouth.
Huh. Their tongue is warm. Like they’ve just eaten. Val gives you a little, soft, and probably unconscious moan as they lick your papercut wound clean— and then they step back. As if nothing happened.
“Noroc,” they say. Cheers.
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semifilms · 4 months
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semi, ATSUMU, osamu, hinata, TENDOU, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI, kuroo, SUGAWARA, akaashi, TANAKA, aran, GOSHIKI, asahi, USHIJIMA, UKAI, kyotani, suna, terushima
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imfinereallyy · 1 month
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I love how in most fics with stobin, Robin is either completely grossed out by Steve’s sex life, or they are both so horrible invasive and truthful with each other that Steve and Robin have no problem talking about sex. Both bring me joy. I love these platonic soulmates.
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wondeurwall · 3 months
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Idk if u've seen rafayel's new oracle story BUT IT HAS BEEN PLAGUING MY MIND
"What if i make it up to you like this yeah?"
MAKE UP SEX WITH RAFAYEL.
TELL ME DO YOU THINK THEY'LL HAVE IT OFTEN?? But ones in a more playful sort of way not really full on arguments if you get what i mean 😩💗💗
oh my god please, nonnie, rafayel's oracle story is literally the only thing on my mind. i've been so unwell
i went in with one dream and spent everything i had because my luck is abysmal. and, the worst part?? I CAN'T EVEN BE UPSET ABOUT IT 😭🫵🏻 it wasn't what i expected. it's kind of funny ASKDDJKD!! i thought it'd be myth related. instead, i was blessed with rafayel.... kisses... 🥰
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itty bitty nsfw 🔞 mdni.
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rafayel would 100% down for playful makeup sex 😵‍💫💕 honestly, he'd pull any kind of excuse just to get you undressed and fucked out in bliss. he loves how pretty you look when you cum 💕 even more when he and you can get a good laugh in between because he'd appreciate lightheartedness in intimacy. after all, he wouldn't have sex with anyone else! he needs trust to do those sweet, silly things too, and he can only ever do that with you.
because i think he'd find a lot of fun with it, he'd do it often, but the sex doesn't necessarily need to be absolutely mind-blowing once initiated. banter is fun, even better when it leads to sex, but he just loves being close like that: naked and a tangled mess of limbs with the warmth coming from your body to his.
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he's a night owl, so he's unintentionally ignoring your texts. maybe, even misses a few phone calls or immediately ends an incoming one, thinking it's an alarm he set up before. part of the day goes by and you're coming into his home to make sure he's doing alright. there's no use in pretending that you aren't upset. because you are upset! you didn't hear from him 💔 but, you find that he's just now out of bed after finishing a new piece of art.
"were you asleep this whole time?" you ask.
he rambles on about a sudden inspiration he had and that, "it'd be wrong to rest when the idea was too good."
you listen, nod, but truthfully some of his words go in and out the other ear. you frown at him. and, when he asks why you have that look on your face, you're quick to say, "i'm sure you can figure out why."
he knows. of course, he knows. he reads you well, just like you do him. then, his shoulders are a little hunched over, and he's laughing!
"i've really spoiled you," he says softly. his hands are on your hips the next second, pulling you close. "mm, why not let me make it up to you? i'm awake now, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves."
he lifts you and lays you on the couch. kisses you while he thinks about how many times he can get you gushing on his fingers and tongue before his cock.
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OR, if you're the one making it up to him 🥹
accidentally spilling paint on a good shirt of his? you're panicking as soon as it happens. your hands move faster than your mouth, and you're halfway with unbuttoning his shirt before telling him he needs to take it off.
his laughter is what stops you. it dawns on you! but, to be fair, your thoughts don't have anything else besides: the shirt must be washed before it really stains.
"someone's being bold," he chuckles as your eyes meet. "did you plan this?"
"what?" and, the fabric drops from between your fingers. rafayel doesn't miss the way your gaze falls briefly, catching the sight of his bare chest, last 2 or 3 buttons barely laying over his abdomen. "me, ruining a piece of clothing that's probably over three times my budget? i don't think that's planning. it's called being clumsy."
your face feels warm. you take a deep breath, reach out to him, "c'mon. i'll wash it. take it off before the paint makes it unsalvageable."
rafayel clasps your wrist with his hand, steps into your space, voice deepening with a tinge of playfulness, "no, i can think of a better idea. how about me and you have matching clothes?"
he embraces you, gets you wearing blotches of paint too, and you want to argue. but, you can't find the energy to when one hand is guiding your head back and the other is tugging on your neckline. rafayel's lips move to your throat first. then, trails open-mouthed kisses along the rest of your neck, jaw, the base of your shoulder, before whispering, "it's a good idea, yeah?"
since you're the one to make a mess of his shirt first, he wants you riding him as compensation. to make him feel good? yes, sure, he loves that. though, the reason for it, most of all: he wants you using his cock like you own it. wants you aching and desperate for him. cum all over him, feel good because of him. nothing gets him going more than watching you bounce on top and moan his name so sweetly 🥰
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© 2024 wondeurwall ☆ all rights reserved. please don't repost as your own, modify or translate on here or on other platforms. reblogs & likes are appreciated! ♡
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gardenofnoah · 22 days
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You slide into your regular booth later than usual - a sweating bottle of your tried and true choice saving your spot as you catch the tail end of some heated debate between Katsuki and your best friend.
“Okay, but he’s really nice Bakugou—“
“Nice? Y’need therapy.”
He holds an arm out for you to settle in under, turning his head to kiss your temple in greeting.
“Okay so maybe he’s not nice all the time, but no one is nice all the time.”
You can feel the eye roll from your boyfriend without having to see it. “Is he fuckin’ twelve? There a reason he can’t control ‘imself when he’s grumpy?”
She sticks her tongue out at Katsuki, and you turn to press your smile into his shoulder. It’s endearing, the way he’s fit himself into the lives of your friends. The way he genuinely cares, in his own harsh way - the way he wants your friends to be treated well. He’s a girls’ girl through and through, even if you’d never say it to him. They have this argument every week.
Your friend picks at the label on her bottle, pouting.
“Okay, but isn’t it enough that I love him?”
Katsuki throws his head back and cackles. It’s mean, but the three of you know that he means well.
“That ain’t love.”
She huffs at that, setting her bottle down to cross her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Katsuki. “You don’t know that.”
You feel him eyeing you then, and you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s warm - the smile is in his eyes as yours pulls at the corners of your lips. He turns his head to take another swig from his drink.
“I know enough,” he says finally, arm around you tightening just a bit.
Your friend gags, and it makes you laugh. Katsuki is stubborn and crass, but he’s right about this.
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Y’all remember the days when Belos was just the funky mysterious masked villain with the sans eye. Remember when Little Miss Perfect dominated both the fandom and Amity Blight as a character. Remember when some of us were genuinely worried Eda would die in the S1 finale. Remember when we all hated Lilith with a seething passion. Remember when Luz’s biggest issue was just trying to figure out day-to-day Boiling Isles life. Remember when, save for the finale, Understanding Willow and Enchanting Grom Fright were the episodes we all lost our minds over.
Wild times
#the owl house#toh#emperor belos#philip wittebane#luz noceda#amity blight#eda clawthorne#lilith clawthorne#little miss perfect#boiling isles#talk#season 1#toh season 1#the owl house season 1#text post#drabble post#i can name so incredibly specific things about being in this fandom. so incredibly specific#guys i joined during the brief hiatus during adventures in the elements. i still REMEMBER there was a break cause yknow. DISEASE#yes i made the belos reference first cause. gestures to my profile picture. i know#remember when belos was just like. the villain. and the human theorists were The Crack Theorists#remember when our brain chemistry was rewired with grom. remember when we all wailed in the s1 finale and we were like#dang thats insane. all of this is so insane look at this tidbits of plot. and then season 2 loomed over us#god. do you guys remember my four years au? remember the character i named keene?#he was my idea for the sneak-peak we got of the top of hunters head by dana. keene was who i thought hunter was gonna be. i had a plot idea#where he almost betrayed amity at one point before deciding to stick with the kid. guys i thought hunter was like an adult man & also yknow#had his life together. oh if past me could see this sht now#i could go ON about the crazy things i thought/did back in YE OLDEN DAYS of this hereby fandom. i am accepting asks#WE HAD NO IDEA. WE HAD NO CLUE IT WAS GONNA TURN OUT TO BE A RELIGIOUS WITCH HUNTER PLOT TWIST#OR CLONES. OR INSANE FAMILY TRAUMA. OR HARPY LADIES. LOOK UPON YE MIGHTY AT WHAT WE BECAME
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starrylevi · 9 months
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Levi who has an untitled album in his phone and it’s all pictures of you. Most are candids in which you’re caught off guard. He’s talented at taking pictures without you noticing. There’s a picture of you sleeping, another of you snuggled up against his chest, one of you belly laughing, and more. However, his favorites are the ones that are the most ordinary, the ones that you personally don’t think are all that special. In these pictures you’re doing the most mundane things like laundry, washing the dishes, watching television, engaging in your favorite hobby, etc. He thinks you look beautiful in all of them. He doesn’t believe there needs to be a reason for him to take these pictures. You simply existing is reason enough for him.
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