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blueywrites · 14 days

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baby can we smoke?

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.

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cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.

Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)

enjoy xx

Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.

He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.

Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him.

“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”

You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”

Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.

It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.

“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.”

Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke.

And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.

“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.

“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”

You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers.

“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—

Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore.

Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?”

Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”

You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.

“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.

“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”

“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell.

For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.

The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.

“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.

“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”

Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.

Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that.

The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs.

"Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.”

If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me."

You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."

“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief.

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

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ja3honey · 1 year

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Day 19 : Double Penetration : YunGi

「Title」 : Three Is Better

「Word count」 : 2.0k

-> Genre: Smut, College Au

Paring: (Mingi & Yunho) Boyfriend's YunGi x Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickeys. Big dick Yunho and Mingi. Light-hearted sex. Poly relationship. Swearing. Pet names. Praise from Yunho. Mingi is a moaning mess. Multiple orgasms. Protected anal sex. Unprotected sex (Mingi didn't wrap it. Woops) Let me know If I missed anything

February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar

"Please, please. Please." You sounded like a broken record. One that had been broken by none other than the infamous bad boy Mingi and his best friend, Yunho. You were the good girl in school. You weren't popular by all means, but you weren't an outcast either. You had friends, and you did what every normal college student would do. You lived a normal life.... well, that was until Mingi, the deep-voiced boy from your musical art class, started to take interest in you.

Everyone wanted him and his friends. They were the idols of the school. But none of them were interested in relationships or flings or even hookups. Girls would lie, saying they'd been with them, but in truth, the boys were untouchable, and that made them even more desirable. Heck, they didn't even like human interaction with anyone other than their friend group. But yet when Mingi saw you, he knew he wanted you. And so did Yunho.

It became a game of cat and mouse. But in this case, it was two very large cats cornering one scared little mouse. You wanted it, though. As much as you fought it at first. You wanted the pleasure you knew they would provide. But part of you wanted to keep your dignity, not wanted to be plastered as a whore in the school. But Mingi and Yunho's reassured you that no one would come to know your dirty secret. And yet, no one would even believe it anyway if it were to get out.

So here you stand, with two large bodies holding you close in between them. Mingi's fingers were paced fast as you high came ripping closer and closer. Yunho's tongue lapped the bright purple marks on your soft skin, the ones he created so he could show others you were taken without anyone knowing who exactly gave them to you. They were both possessive over you. Learning more and more things about you and your body every time they had you in these situations.

"Mingi I..I.." You gripped his biceps, nails digging into his flesh as you could feel your orgasm approaching. Mingi just chuckled, going faster while Yunho snaked his hand from behind you to place a finger on your clit, circling it quickly in time with Mingi's thrusts.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." you swore, knees buckling, you fall into Yunho's arms, making him keep you up while they continue. Your orgasm comes quickly, Mingi letting out a chuckle at his work. You were so fucked out already and they hadn't even started yet. Yunho swopped you up, laying you on his bed while Mingi takes this time to undress, finally making you not the only one naked in the room. Yunho kisses your forehead whispering how good you were, making your heart jump at his words.

“Yunnie.” You shakily place a hand on his cheek, bringing him close so you could kiss him on the lips passionately. Yun’s hands snaked down your body, gripping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You moan into his mouth making him smile. The noises you made were always music to his ears.

“So Me or Yun first, baby? Since we chose last time.” Mingi rubbed your ankles as he stood by the end of the bed. You sat up, looking at your lover. A hard gulp ran down your throat as your tried to prepare yourself to answer him. You recently found you wanted to try a new thing but became unsure how to ask. No better time than the present, right?

“I…I want both of you..” You glance over to Yunho, “At the same time.” Mingi and Yunho could feel their dicks twitch at the idea. don’t get them wrong, they both fantasised about taking you at the same time but they didn’t want to scare you away with the act. But hearing the thought roll off your tongue, god it made them go feral. Yunho jumped up, ripping his shirt off while he jogged over to his dresser.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Mingi shouted with a huge smile. You tilted your head in confusion as you watch Yunho strip down while he hold his fist out.

“Deal.” Yunho smirks, throwing the lube on the bed next to you before also placing his fist out. They swung, Mingi getting scissors, and Yunho getting rock.

“Fuck!” Mingi swears with a whimpering tone. Yunho laughs smugly walking over to you with pride. He lets his hand out for you to take, so he could pull you up off the bed so you can stand on your wobbly legs. Did they really just play rock, paper, scissors for who fucks you in which hol-

“Oh god….” your cheeks run a blush in a similar shade to Mingis pink hair. Yunho twirls you so you face Mingi and he could stand behind you. He kisses your neck from behind, rubbing your ass slightly before letting his hand land a smack on your soft skin.

“Next time Min. But right now, this ass is mine.” Yunho chuckles to himself.

He lathers himself up with lube and then coats his fingers again. With one finger he begins prodding at your ass before slipping it in slowly. It’s a foreign feeling and it has you squirming under his touch. He murmurs something in your ear you can’t quite make out but it’s all a blur anyways when he begins sucking at your neck. He adds another finger and he has to hold you in place. It’s almost painful but the lube is a blessing.

Mingi is suddenly in your sight, grabbing your chin to look at him. “Keep your eyes on me, I wanna see your face.”

Mingi cups your core, chuckling slightly at how wet you still were... He’s able to slip two fingers in easily and the noise that comes from your lips is something that you wouldn’t imagine. They go at two different paces and you can’t think. You forget that you’re meant to be looking at Mingi and you focus on him. Yunho has to hold you up as your knees keep wanting to give way. You have never felt this much before in your life.

“I...I feel weird..” The tingle in your gut was growing differently than any other orgasms you’ve ever experienced before. You lent more into Yunhos body, while Mingi got down on his knees so he could be face to face with your dripping pussy. His tongue licks a long strip, making you gasp out, gripping his short hair. His fingers got faster while Yunho stayed at the same pace, making your brain shortcircuit. Before you could tell what was going on, you were cumming all over mingi’s face.

“Fuck our baby just squirted,” Mingi said in amusement while Yunho chuckled against your ear, making you blush even more than you were prior. They both pulled out making you whine. You left dizzy, unable to register what was happening. All you could do was watch Mingi disappear for a second before reappearing with a towel, wiping his face clean with a smug smile plastered to it. You could hear the sound of a wrapper being opened behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Yunho rolling a condom on his thick length. He had a sweet smile but you knew this man had a dark side. He was going to enjoy ruining you.

“Okay, Min, lay back and let our baby ride you.” Mingi does what Yunho asks, laying down on the bed so you can straddle his hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars. Fuck, you swear every time you feel his cock it gets bigger. From behind, you suddenly feel Yunho’s fingers, slick from the lube, slide against your ass like he had done before. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access.

“You feel so perfect squeezing me,” Mingi moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your breasts in order to distract you from the discomfort you might feel soon enough.

“Isn’t she tight, Min. Always so good for us ?” Yunho grins, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Minigi just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Yun slowly moves his finger. One finger becomes two, and you ride Mingi a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his large cock, working the pleasure from you.

“Please, Yuyu, please,” you beg, leaning back up against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, Darling?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace.

“Fuck yes, Yunho, I need you so bad.” Yun pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Now be a good girl and take a deep breath.” Yunho keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Mingi helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him too. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him. His release to coming quicker than he expected. Only a thin wall now separates Yunho and Mingi’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands while their thrusts become different pacing, making it near hard to breathe. All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their stamina, they seem to last so much longer than other men. It was like they were some type of super soldiers They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Mingi whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Yunho leans over to bite your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“You gonna cum Doll? You want Min to cum inside you?” Yunho’s fingers wrap around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Oh my god, Mingi, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan through your strong high, gripping onto Yun’s arm. Mingi comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Yunho over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating for a moment. Yunho kisses you deeply before shifting to give Mingi the same treatment. Yunho gets up to grab a washcloth while Mingi holds you tightly, pampering your face with sweet kisses. They take care of you sweetly. Ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin, Yunho cleans you up, and together you and Mingi care for Yunho. Once you are all done, you flop on the bed with Yunho on his back and you half on top of him. Mingi cuddles up next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist while nuzzling his face into your shoulder. it was silent for a moment, the only things that could be heard were your bumping hearts and breathing that finally began to slow down. It was peaceful until Mingi opened his big, smug mouth.

“Ready for round two?”

You have never wanted to slap him so much as right now.

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lexisecretaccx · 2 months

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High School Sweethearts pt. 10 - Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT3, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, (other parts in my Masterlist!)

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, arguements, mean & suggestive comments about y/n, idk)

A/n: bro the negative tension and uncomfortableness in this part is too real.. y/n eats Evan up at the end yall.

“Good looking too.” My mom raises her eyebrows to me and smirks, “yep.” I awkwardly say before turning back around on my heels and going to walk up the stairs, “wait, I wasn’t finished talking.” My mom spoke, her happy tone faltering slightly. I turn back around and she motions for me to sit on the couch.

I sit down and she sits in the arm chair opposite me, “what?” I ask impatiently, “watch your tone.” She tilts her head and clears her throat before continuing and I look down at my hands, “The Watsons invited us for dinner later.” My head shoots up at her, “you’re talking about the Watsons as in Evan Watson?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah and I said we’d go, for old time sake.” She smiles, completely ignoring the discomfort in my body language and voice. “No.” I scoff before standing up and walking to the stairs, “excuse me? You are coming, they miss seeing you!” My mom tries to convince me. “No!” I repeat, “their son is an asshole who treats girls like shit!” My tone loudens and my mother’s smile drops.

She walks towards me her teeth gritted, “We are going, maybe Evan will be nice.” I scoff and roll my eyes, “I shouldn’t even be letting you do anything nice after you attacked Evans best friend.” My mom hisses, “I’m doing this so you can have a nice future!”

“No, you’re doing this so you can have a good reputation and you want me and Evan to end up together so you’re the mother of the girl who married into the Watson’s family,” I walk closer to her, “I said this yesterday, me and Evan are never going to be together.” I rub either side of my temples.

“Evan probably won’t even be there, since he has friends.” My mom swallows angrily, “he won’t?” I ask again, not truly believing her. “I’ll ask them now,” she pulls out her phone and starts typing.

5 minutes later she smiles, “I just checked with his mother and he’s not gonna be there because he’s got football practice.” She smiles, “you comforted now?” I shrug. “I’m only coming because I don’t think I have another choice.” I walk up the stairs, “put on a pretty dress!” My mother calls up.

We have to leave at 5pm, it’s 4pm right now, I call Chris and he picks up instantly, “you okay?” He asks, “no, I have to go for dinner at.. guess whose house.” I answer, “I don’t know.” He replies confused. “Evans house, apparently he won’t be there but my mom is forcing me to go.” I whine, “what the fuck.” Chris says, “I know, I’ll text or call you if anything goes wrong.” I look through my wardrobe, “yeah do that, promise me you’ll be okay.” Chris spoke softly. “Yeah of course, I gotta get dressed now but I’ll talk to you later?” I ask, “yeah of course, talk to you later ma.” He hangs up.

I put on a purple dress, I look in my mirror, that dress makes you look fat. Evans words rang through my ears, this was the dress I wore to my 16th birthday party, but he made me feel so bad about myself, not a good memory attached to this dress. I rip the dress off and grab a red satin dress that I had, I can’t remember when I got it.

I slip into the dress, it’s a dark red and backless, it goes to just above my knees, I don’t know if it’s too revealing but I’ll pair it with a jacket for my own comfort, I grab a creme jacket and do my hair and place a creme bow in the back. I look down at the blood stained ring on my hand, the blood wouldn’t come off even in the shower.

I shrug and keep it on.

“You look, nice.” My mom says, she’s wearing a black dress that goes just past her knees, she’s wearing black heels too, I’m just in white sneakers. She looks at my choice of footwear and rolls her eyes, “come on.” We walk outside and into the car. At this point it’s 4:57pm and we should get there at 5:15, knowing it’s only a 15 min drive to his house.

We pull into his large driveway, his massive house infront of us, three stories and very victorian style. I don’t even know how we got together in the first place since he was rich as fuck and I was.. managing to get by.

“Brings back old memories huh?” My mom smiles at me, I shrug. The only memory it brings for me is the time he tried to, you know.

We knock at the door and Evans mom, Katherine opens the door, she looks at me and smiles. “Don’t you look so beautiful!” She pulls me in for a hug and I stand rigid. “Thanks.” I whisper. “Evan will be happy to see you.” She replies, I instantly look to my mom who awkwardly looks away and smiles at Katherine.

She leads us into the house and me and my mom follow, “you said he wasn’t gonna be here!” I whisper yell, “there was no other way to get you to come.” She keeps a straight face and doesn’t look at me. “You’re a liar.” I sigh and she ignores me.

We walk into their massive living room, the tall windows and ceiling haven’t changed much. I see his father James walk up to us, he looks at me and then at my mom and quickly back to me, he smirks at me “you have grown up in the past year huh?” He looks me up and down, causing me to wrap my jacket around me further, I shrug.

I sit down on the large couch next to my mom as she talks to Katherine and James, Katherine directs her attention to me, “so.. how’s school?” She asks smiling kindly, Katherine is the only one of the Watsons that has some sort of genuine niceness to her.

“I don’t know..” I mumble, “She’s lying.” A voice comes from behind me, Evan. He sits down next to me and looks at his mom, “she’s a trouble maker now, it’s the boy she hangs out with.” He looks at me smirking, I have felt eyes burning into me the whole time I’ve been sat here, James is staring but not in a normal way, he’s always been kinda pervy.

“Oh? Who’s the boy?” Katherine asks me, “its-” Evan goes to speak but I cut him off, “I can speak for myself, his names Chris.” I glare at Evan before smiling at Katherine. She nods.

A lady walks into the living room, “dinner is ready.” They are so fucking rich they have a chef and a maid. We walk to the dining hall and I sit down next to my mother, Katherine opposite my mother, James at the head of the table and Evan across from me. The maid places the plates in-front of us, it’s steak.

I drown out the conversation between my mom and Katherine, James adding into the conversation too. I feel someone kick my leg under the table, I look up at Evan and he’s grinning, I roll my eyes and continue to move my steak around the plate. “Doesnt y/n look beautiful?” Katherine asks Evan and James, Evan shrugs but James replies, “she’s growing into an attractive young lady, yes.” He smirks at me.

His eyes seem to be not focused on my face but my chest. Evan clears his throat and goes to speak, “so you finally watching your weight or something? Because you haven’t touched the steak.” He spoke to me, an evil smile creeps over his face, I don’t have a reason to watch my weight, Evan is just a dick who likes to make me feel bad about myself.

My mother smiles at him, not even defending me, Katherine nudges his elbow. “That is not how you talk to a woman Evan,” she spoke angrily and looks to me before smiling, “ignore him darling you’re gorgeous.” James obviously agrees with her, creep.

“Do you two talk in school?” My mother asks Evan, pointing between me and him. I shrug, “stop shrugging its rude.” My mom quietly hisses to me, “you could say that.” Evan smirks. My mom looks at me with hope in her eyes, “if you’re talking about threatening me and being rude to me and my boyfriend then yeah I guess we do talk.” I scowl at Evan.

Katherine looks to Evan in confusion, Evans brows knit together and tilts his head glaring at me before turning to his mother, “what does she mean?” She asked him, “she’s lying.” Is all he answers with. “You always accuse me of lying especially after..” Evan clears his throat loudly, cutting me off.

I stand up and lean on the table “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask urgently. Katherine nods, “of course, you remember where it is?” She smiles awkwardly, “yeah.” I say and walk out the dining room. “Sorry about her.” I hear my mom say.

I get in the bathroom and lock the door behind me, looking in the mirror. “Fuck this.” I whisper. I hear a knock on the door, “what?” There’s no reply so I open the door, Evan is standing there looking down at me.

“Fuck you scared me.” I flinch. He chuckles, “I’m sorry about what happened in there, I don’t want to be there just as much as you.” He whispers, leaning in close to me. “I doubt it, it’s your fucking house I never wanted to come back here.” I look down at my feet, feeling intimidated by his light green eyes, staring into my soul.

“So he’s your boyfriend now?” He asks me smirking, I nod uncomfortably and push past him before walking out in the hallway. “Wait.” He says and grabs my arm turning me around to him. “Let go.” I say coldly and he does. “It was kinda badass of you to beat up Michael.” He leans into me again and I lean away. “Yeah I guess.” I awkwardly spoke.

“Your knuckles are cut up huh?” He grabs my hand and his thumb grazes over my knuckles causing me to squint in pain. “Don’t do that.” I stare at him angrily, pulling my hand out of his grip. I turn around to walk away again and he smirks following behind me. “I’ve redecorated my room, wanna see?” He asks me from behind, the obvious grin in his voice.

“Of course!” I sarcastically say, flashing him a fake smile. “Of course not. I don’t want to go to the exact room you tried to attack me in.” I continue walking down the hallway and he grabs my shoulders, stilling my walk. “Maybe I wouldn’t have almost done that to you if you weren’t such a pussy, at that rate you’re gonna be a virgin forever.” He whispered into my ear.

Anger fills my face, who does he think he is? He has no right to say shit like that. “No I won’t.” I laugh, knowing that I’m not a virgin and when he finds out he’s gonna go mad. “Oh yeah?” He asks and I continue walking, him next to me.

“Did you see Chris at lunch?” I ask him, obviously he didn’t because Chris skipped so he could be with me. “No, nobody knew where he was.” He replied, I smirk, “I knew where he was.” I look up at Evan and I point at my chest. He tilts his head, “oh really?” He smirks down at me raising an eyebrow.

How big is this fucking house, I’ve been walking around in circles because Evan keeps fucking distracting me. “Yep he was at my house,” Evans smirk drops, and I grin up at him, “guess what we were doing.” I glare at him, lowering my tone.

His eyebrows furrow, “what?” His voice softens, “it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, me and Chris in my room, in my bed.. home alone..” I slow my tone at the end of it and I wait for Evan to realise, a smile creeps across my face as his face switches to shock.

“You weren’t.” He whispers, his ego has clearly taken a hit as his face drops. I nod and smirk before walking away back into the dining room, “can we go?” I ask my mom, making her jump as I came up behind her.

“Fine, we’ve finished eating anyway.” she looks at my half eaten steak and at the maid cleaning up the dishes. Evan looks very offended and doesn’t speak. “Have you two sorted your differences?” Katherine asks as we leave the dining room, “something like that.” I look up at her smiling before throwing Evan a snarky look, he just glares at me.

We walk to the door and Katherine hugs us goodbye and this time I actually hug her back.

My mom gets into the car and so do I.

A/n: y/n is actually a girl boss, Evan fuck outta here tryna manipulate her by being flirty. Also James can make his way to the ‘to catch a predator’ set because he’s a perv!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @accio326 @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @stingerayyy2 @freshsturns

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #matt #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #high school #high school sweethearts

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lovebittenbyevans · 21 days

Text

See No Shame | Part 2

Summary: You and Nanami were only seeing each other for three months. You eventually wanted more but of course they always say “don’t be someone second choice” in a man life.

Pairing: Billionaire! Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Warnings: cursed words

Author note: second part of this mini-series is here! I like writing for this. If you like you can reblog, comment but enjoy reading!

Part 2

Three months went by fast when you used to be around Nanami a lot. You didn’t care what he did and how rich he was at all. You just wanted to be around him all the time but now everything changes between you and him.

Sometimes you can't bring yourself to cry about him anymore even though your heart still beats for him. You tried to avoid him after he didn’t want to deal with you like that anymore but he only calls or texts you when she is not around.

For the past few weeks you only took shifts at the library when you thought it was necessary. You didn’t want to face Nanami again and cry about him some more.

You were trying so hard to get over he doesn’t feel the same about you but Tiffany kept sending you articles about him with Ariel nonstop. Of course Tiffany would send you a whole text message about how Ariel isn’t shit at all. You would laugh at anything she sends you with a comment.

Ignoring Nanami calls and text messages is all you have been doing for the last few days. You couldn’t bring yourself to cry about him anymore. You are regretting going to Yu Haibara party since he is Nanami's best friend.

You placed the gift you got for him on the table with a bunch of other gifts. “Don’t look now but Nanami is here with Ariel.” Tiffany whispers next to you.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “It seems like they came matching tonight.” She whispers to you again.

Fucking great

It shouldn’t be a surprise for you that Nanami was here at all. Yu and Nanami have always been close since their high school days. They always say fake it until you make it.

You made your way to the other side of the room as Tiffany followed right behind you. You greeted some people you knew but didn’t chat with them for long. You pour yourself some champagne into a tall clear glass cup as you hear a voice behind you. “Y/N and Tiffany.”

That whiny and flat voice, you only heard three times. “Ariel.” You gave Tiffany her tall clear glass cup as you turned around with a fake smile on your face.

“Wow, small world.” Tiffany clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink.

Ariel looks stunning wearing a purple body-con dress that shows her curves. You thought she was dressed up going to a club.

Ariel grabs tall clear glass from one of the butler’s who was handing them out on a tray. “How are you, Y/N?” She takes a swig of her drink.

“I’m good.” The only thing you said to her.

Tiffany jumps right in the conversation. “I’m good too. Work is killing me.”

Everyday you thank god for Tiffany because you have no idea where you would be without her.

You excuse yourself and walk around the place. You had to admit Yu always knew how to throw a party. You stop to admire one of the paintings on the wall when a raspy voice can be heard behind you. “Hello, Y/N.”

Suddenly your heart was racing fast as fuck.

Shit, Shit

“Yu, got that painting of his beautiful mom for Mother’s Day three years ago.” He says standing next to you.

You take another sip of your drink before speaking. “Hi and it’s beautiful.”

Nanami nods, placing both of his hands behind his back. “Hmm, I also want to say I–” You interrupted him as you locked eyes with him. “Don’t apologize. I am happy for you and Ariel.”

Fuck! It hurts for you to say that

A piece of your heart felt like it was being ripped apart again. You told yourself you had to say it in order to move on from him. You let out a breath while feeling a lump in your throat.

“Um. Thanks.” He muttered.

You squeezed his shoulder. “Happy looks good on you Nan.” You look at him again before making your way back to Tiffany.

You truly need to stop lying to yourself for once. For now you feel like a complete idiot when you know you didn’t mean those words to him.

You cough getting her attention, setting your empty tall glass down on the table. “I want to leave.” You hate the way you are feeling right now.

“Y/N, don’t take her away from me.” Gojo pouts while squeezing her cheeks with his palm.

You scoff and shake your head. “Nice to see you too, Gojo.” Sometimes you can't stand Gojo at all. He acts like a child half the time.

Tiffany gave him a kiss on the cheeks and followed right behind you out the front door. “What’s wrong? What did Nanami do? Is it Ariel?”

You let out a loud whine and start rambling. “I told him I was happy for his relationship.”

Tiffany smacks your arm playfully. “Now, why would you tell him that lie? We both know you are not over that man.”

You sigh. “I know. I know.”

She embraced you with a hug and rubs your back gently. “Look, I love you but you need to stop running away from him. Fuck Ariel.” She continues. “He doesn’t deserve you and he still can’t see it.”

You stood there listening to her as she pulled away from you. “Y/N, learn to feel your feelings then eventually brush it off.” Her eyes focused on you.

You understand what she was saying but it is hard for you to do that. You never saw yourself brushing off the feelings you have for this man. Your heart still beats for him and that’s scary.

“Oh my god.” You felt completely sick.

Tiffany hates seeing you like this over someone who just ended things with you three months ago. She never saw you act like this over guy before.

She opened her mouth to comment when you felt your phone vibrate against the pocket of your black jeans. You pull your phone out and a text message from Nanami on the screen.

Nanami: I don’t want you out of my life, Y/N

Nanami: I love you

Your eyes widened, those three words shocked you completely.

Is he serious?

“What happened?” Tiffany asked.

You turn your phone off and put it back in your black jeans pocket. “You can stay. I’ll just go home by myself.” You take the car keys out of her purse.

Tiffany gave you a side eye glance. “You sure?” She can see right through you that there was something you aren’t telling her.

“Yeah, tell gojo to take you home. I want to take a walk first.” You gave her a hug and then began walking down the block.

Taking your phone out of your pocket, you continue walking while rereading Nanami messages a couple of times. You notice three dots appear for a second and then he sends another message.

Nanami: let’s talk soon, I want to take you somewhere ❤️

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reigningqueenofwords · 2 days

Text

Prom Woes

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,246 Request: Anonymous. Hey, I saw one of your dean x reader imagines and I loved it a lot! So I was wondering if you could do a fanfic where dean and the reader are about 17 and the reader’s prom date breaks up with her during the dance and Dean comforts her and confesses his feelings? Fluff follows? 😂😂love your fics bunches!!!

Read on AO3

Standing in the middle of the dance floor, your eyes watered. People moved around you, bodies close to their dates. Sniffing, you shook your head and turned, making your way off the dance floor. It was your senior prom, and the memories that should have been magical were shattered.

“Oh, Y/N/N, you look beautiful.” Your mother gushed, holding her hands together by her chin. She’d just put the finishing touches on your hair once you’d finished your makeup. Your dress was a lovely shade of purple, and shimmered slightly. You’d had your eye on it for months before your parents agreed to go prom shopping. Your father refused to buy a dress months ahead of time in case you changed your mind. So, you’d scrambled two weeks prior to make sure you got your dress.

As you passed a trash can, you ripped the flower from your wrist and tossed it in. “Stupid jerk.” You muttered, wanting to punch him in the face. Finding your table, you dropped into your seat.

“Well, that doesn’t look like how you should look at your prom.” Came your best friend’s voice.

You sighed and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” You told him sadly, wiping under your eye and smudging your makeup. “Oh, great.” You groaned, seeing the black line on your hand. “Perfect.” You sighed.

Dean furrowed his brows and sat next to you. “What the hell happened? You’ve been looking forward to this night for months.”

You grinned as you Dean sat on the couch watching movies. “We’re seniors!” You squealed.

“Technically, we’re not students until Monday.” He teased. “And you are way too excited.”

“This is the final year of high school. And prom!” You saw him roll his eyes and shoved him lightly. “I can’t wait.” You added. “Jessie will look so hot in a tux.” You sighed.

Dean chuckled lightly. “I still can’t believe you’re dating that idiot.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

You played with the table cloth. “Jessie broke up with me.” You sniffed, your eyes watering all over.

“What?!” He asked, sitting straight up. “When? Why?”

Despite how bad you felt, you let out a soft chuckle at how he sounded. “Just a few minutes ago- on the dance floor.” Your eyes shot to where it was still packed for a moment, then back to the table. “He didn’t really give a good reason, actually.” That fact was just hitting you, and made your more angry than anything. You’d been together since the July before- that was 11 months of your life with him. All to have it ended. At your prom. Your senior prom!

Dean was clearly angry. “What a dick. Where’s that asshole now?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. He left me on the dance floor. I think I spaced out for a few minutes before I made my way over here. I kinda just wanna go home…” What was the point of staying when you looked like hell from crying, and you were miserable?

“Come on.” Dean got up and held out his hand. “Let’s have our own prom.” He grinned.

Taking his hand, you narrowed your eyes. “Should I be worried?” You asked, half joking.

“Nah.” He pretended to think for a moment. “I don’t think…” He laughed.

Sitting across from him at Burger King, you covered your mouth as you laughed. You had been chewing your burger, and he had made a stupid face. “Stop!” You waved. “I’m trying to eat.”

“Hey, I’m just happy to see you smiling again.” Dean grinned, taking a sip of his soda. “I hate when you’re all upset.” He shrugged.

You licked your lips before taking a sip of your soda, giving him a small smile. “Well, you’re good at making me smile.” You blushed. “You’ve been my best friend for forever.” You chuckled lightly.

Dean pouted, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat on your couch. The four year old was not at all pleased that he was staying at his mother’s friend’s house while she was off having his baby brother.

“Hi!” Came a small voice as you climbed up next to him on the couch. “I’m Y/N/N. ‘Member me?” You looked hopeful, as you’d had playdates with him a couple times before.

He glared. “Stupid girls.” He huffed, instantly regretting it when you looked like you’d cry. “Hey, you know how to play hide and seek?”

You face lit of. “Course I do!” You giggled.

“W-what if I’d like to be more than best friends?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

You froze with your burger almost to your mouth. “What?” You asked, not sure that you’d heard him right. Setting down your food, you swallowed. “You want to be more?”

He shrugged. “I’d like the chance.” Dean admitted nervously. “I’ve loved you for awhile now, honestly.” Your felt your chest tighten as your stomach fluttered at his words. “I just always wanted you happy, and didn’t want to screw us up. Then I saw how bad that dick hurt you.” He sighed, running his hand through his short blond hair. “All I wanted to do was hold you close and make it stop hurting you.”

Chewing on your lip, you chose your words wisely. “Dean…” You said gently. “I just got out of almost a year long relationship.” Which was something you needed to say before saying more. “While I do love you, a lot, I’m not going to pretend I can be more right now.” That would be fair to Dean at all. “I won’t shut the idea down, though.”

Dean nodded, smiling. “I get that, I do!” He told you. “I just couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.”

You chuckled lightly. “I vote that we finish our food, and go to my house, get comfortable, and watch cheesy movies.”

“I like that idea.” He agreed.

–6 months later–

Dean pouted at you over Skype. “You can’t make it home?”

“I’m sorry!” You sighed. “I have to work.” You explained to your boyfriend of three months. “I’ll be home for Christmas, I promise.”

“Fiiiiine.” He said dramatically, making you chuckle. “How about we have a Skype date on Thanksgiving? You with your food, me with mine.”

You smiled. “I love that idea, actually.” At least you knew that you’d be seeing him in a month, so this would work for now. “How is everyone?”

Dean chuckled. “Mom keeps asking about you. Dad calls you his daughter already, and Sam just started high school.” He shook his head. “I hope he hits a growth spurt soon.” You laughed, knowing what he meant. Sam was a bit on the skinnier side. “How’s school?”

“It’s school.” You shrugged. “I miss you, though. I went to a party the other night with a friend and wound up leaving because I got tired of telling guys off.”

“Well…”

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

Dean smirked, a twinkle in his eye. “What if I told you that you won’t have to worry about that for long?” You raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on. “I’m getting an apartment near you. This January.”

“Really?!” You grinned. “How?”

He laughed. “Dad is opening up a second garage. He needs someone to oversee it. I said I’d do it. I’ll be just half an hour away from you. Not three or so hours.”

“You did that for me?” You asked, feeling loved.

“Us, babe.” He corrected you.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester oneshot

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razorblade180 · 11 months

Text

Jealous Knight Shade

For context, some of yall might remember this story. It’s really old and I just found out a tumblr update completely ruined the format and wouldn’t let me fix the og post. So I had to completely re structure, add, and edit it as a new post.

[Jaune’s Dorm]

Radio:Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen! It’s a beautiful sunny day completely with a slight breeze and temperatures in the mid seventies. Perfect for the Vale concert!!! *clicked off*

Jaune:*jean shorts and a muscle shirt* I am sooooo pumped for this concert. The lights, the food, but most importantly….

Blake:*in the bathroom getting ready* The one….the only…….Jaune and

Blake: Casey Lee Williams!!!

Jaune:Gods I can’t wait any longer! Blake, how much longer are you gonna take? We’re gonna end up looking wasted anyways.

Blake:I at least want to start the day off looking somewhat presentable. I never been to a concert before; honestly never expected to go to one.

Jaune:Really? I guess it’s a good thing you met someone who always gets tickets with the best view possible!

Blake:I still can’t believe you’ve met her before! I hope I get the chance to as well.

Jaune:That won’t happen as long as you’re in the bathroom. We still gotta catch the flight! (Actually we’re ahead of schedule, but Yang and Sun don’t need to know I’m hanging with Blake alone. A blonde war is the last thing I need.)

Blake:I’m ready! *walking out* how do I look?

Jaune:It’s about ti-*Blake in a purple crop top and black high waisted ripped shorts. Black ankle high converse and some wristbands*

Blake:*nervous* Well..? I knew it was gonna be a little hot out all day; plus I never get the chance just to dress casual.

Jaune:*red* You look good! Like really good; wait that sounded weird. I mean you know…you……it’s nice.

Blake:*giggles* Thanks. I’m guessing you’re ready?

Jaune:Uhh Yeah! *hands her a water bottle* concerts can get exhausting for her. *puts on a string bag* I got a few other things in here since it’s an all day thing.

Blake:Well isn’t someone prepared?

Jaune:I’m a veteran at these sorts of things.

Blake:Then I guess I’m in your hands then; let’s go. *starts walking away*

Jaune:*watching her walk away* …….. *sips water* I am not ready for today…

[Airship]

Jaune:*leaning forward* If I die right now Blake, tell my ghost about the concert.

Blake:Why would you get Airship tickets if you get air sick?

Jaune:It’s the fastest way. Too much traffic on the road and I’m sure you want to get there as soon as possible.

Blake:You don’t have to go that far for me. *leans in a bit* you look like you’re turning green.

Jaune:You say that and get closer to me?

Blake:*leans back* that could’ve been bad. Last thing I need is vomit on me; especially my hair.

Jaune:About that…*points to her bow* you can take that off since we’re off campus. Honestly I doubt anyone at our school is even gonna show up.

Blake:Yeah but….I just want to have a normal day.

Jaune:You’re more normal with it off to me.

Blake:*red* That’s nice to know. Besides my team you’re the first to say that. Thanks…

Jaune:That’s what friends are for. *leaning back* Phew, I think the worst has passed.

Blake:That’s good… *takes off bow and leans on him* glad you’re feeling normal too.

Jaune:*redish* Yep, things are just…. normal between us. Completely…..normal.

[A long airship ride later]

Jaune:*stretching legs* I’ll never get used to how long this trip is. My legs still feel *Blake runs passed him* asleep…..

Blake:*Looking at the venue* Wow….*it's basically like Coachella*

Blake:There’s so much of it, we'll do everything! It’s almost a little overwhelming. *ears wiggling*

Jaune:*Smiles don’t take it all in at once; you’ll go mad. First things first *pats her stomach* food.

Blake:I had half a mind to claw you just now. *stomach rumbles* but you’re right…

Jaune:Let’s go then, pizza is always a safe bet. *starts walking* I’m pretty sure it’s to our right.

Blake:Uhhh you might want to try left.

Jaune:Huh, really?

Blake:*points to her ears* I can hear essentially everything around here. I here grills to our right, and oven timers to the left.

Jaune:Blake….you’re amazing. Do you know how much of a maze this place can be!?

Blake:It’s no big deal. Still, there’s a lot of people here. I bet there’s a line for food.

Jaune:I can deal with that as long as I know where I am going.*grabs her hand* Let’s go!

Blake:Wait just a- *gets pulled onlookers staring at them*

Blake:Uh, I think people are staring at us.

Jaune:*looking around* I…think you’re right.

Blake:*folds her ears* I thought you said people wouldn’t care about my ears?

Jaune:*pulls out his hoodie and puts it on Blake. It goes down to her hips* Believe me, it’s not your ears. *starts walking behind her.

Blake:? *realization* Ohhhhh *red*

Jaune:Just ignore them and you’ll be fine.

Blake:I’ll try.

Stranger:*whistles* I think this is the first time I cat called a pretty kitty. What do you say about being with a dog?

Blake:Sorry, I’m not a fan of mutts.

Everyone:Ooooooohhhhh!

Stranger:What was that you little-

Jaune:*wraps arm around her waist* Walk away while you can dude. She may be the Faunus but I’m the one who bites.

Blake:*red* (That’s hot; why did it sound so hot!?)

Stranger:…..*stomps off embarrassed*

Jaune:I swear this place is awesome. Some people are just hot heads.

Blake:It’s alright! (He smells nice) Uhh maybe you should keep your arm around me. Just to be safe.

Jaune:Sure *starts walking happily*

Blake:(How did he do that!? Intense one second and happy the next!?)

Jaune:Wanna get some drinks?

Blake:We can’t buy any.

Jaune:*pulls out two fake IDs* I mean....Blake:......Have you always been this much of a rebel?

Jaune:I like to have fun when I can and I want to show you a good time.

Blake:*pondering* You know this is illegal.

Jaune:So is terrorism

Blake:Can’t argue with that; let’s get wasted!

Jaune:Yeah!!!!!*12 hours later*

Blake:*wakes up in a random bed* Ugh my head. Where am I? *sees she’s not wearing a shirt* What did I do!? Who did I do!?

Jaune:*laying on a couch* Look whose awake. *throws her aspirin* btw you slept with no one and this is Casey’s tour RV.

Blake:I met Casey!?

Jaune:You don’t remember?

Blake:.....No!

Jaune:We drank, the show started and we started singing your favorite song…

Blake:From Shadows is underrated.

Jaune:Yes it is. After that some more people started flirting with you and one grabbed your butt. After that I hit him and Casey had her roadies kick him out. She then proceeded to buy everyone drinks....

Blake:God she is a national treasure.

Jaune:After that we got to go back stage where I introduced you two and you turned into a total fangirl. You wanted an autograph but then you passed out and now we’re here.

Blake:That’s it?Jaune......[Last night backstage]

Jaune:*slightly buzzed* Blake, this is my good friend Casey.

Casey:Hello! Nice to meet a fan; also an old friend. *goes to hug Jaune*

Blake:*thoroughly drunk* Excuse me miss Williams! *grabs his arm* But he is taken!

Jaune:Uhhh what?

Casey:*snorts* What?

Blake:This man *hic* right here....is mine! He spent the whole day showing me an absolute great time! *rubs his chest* I intend on repaying the favor tonight.

Jaune:*bright red* You’re drunk Blake....

Blake:Drunk off of your love hehehe *almost falls over*

Jaune:*lifts her over his shoulder* I’m sorry for her. She’s usually super chill.

Casey:I believe it. Maybe I’ll get to meet her with less fireball in her system.

Blake:.....You have a cute butt Jaune. Not as cute as mine but still pretty nice.

Casey:*laughing*

Jaune:Oh boy....do you mind if we crash in your RV? I don’t think she’s quite travel ready.

Casey:No problem, *autographs an album and puts it in his bag* I figure she would want a souvenir.

Jaune:Thanks *turns around and walks away*

Casey:*waves* Bye Blake!Blake:I will fight you for him. You may be amazing but I call dibs! He’s getting laid tonight!

Jaune:You are going to bed!

Casey:*hysterical laughter*

Jaune:*puts Blake on the bed* Sleep!

Blake:Awww but I’m not tired. *takes off her shirt* Maybe you can fix that for me.

Jaune:(Why can’t this happen when we’re sober?) Blake go to sl- *pulled into her arms*

Blake:Come oooooon! I promise it’ll be fun.

Jaune:You’re drunk Blake, that makes it wrong.

Blake:Terrorism and Fake ID’s are wrong.

Jaune:I mean you’re not wr- no! *pulks himself free* Bed, now!

Blake:Fine, we’ll just do it in the morning. *passes out immediately*

Jaune:*flops onto the couch* Sigh, it’s always the quiet ones.

[later]

Jaune:....That’s it. *you got an album by the way.

Blake:Sweet! Thanks for the good time Jaune. Even if it’s a bit hazy *hugs him*

Jaune:Uhhh Blake *red* your shirt.

Blake:Eh, I don’t care. You probably saw them last night.

Jaune:Don’t worry, that’s the only thing I saw.

Blake:Too bad, you could’ve had an amazing night. *whispers in his ear* By the way, Faunus have high alcohol tolerance.

Jaune:*red* Huh!?

Blake:*walking towards the restroom* Well what do you know, this place has its own shower. Can you think of a more perfect way to start a morning?

Jaune:Depends, you remember what you said last night.

Blake:*playfully* Who knows? Maybe you should join me in here and jog my memory Mr. Cute Butt

Jaune:Now that is the best cat calling I’ve heard this entire trip.

#rwby #jaune arc #blake belladonna #rwby knightshade

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artzzyb00-27 · 4 months

Text

Fire-fam kids Teenage Adventures: Influences

The way I pulled and Evan Buckley and did an ungodly amount of research to find out if Christophers age here was still somewhat reasonable. I pulled out my calculator! Trigger warning: shootings

It had been a month and a few weeks after his first day of high school. Specifically at Theodore Roosevelt High. Sure Eddie had been more than a little worried, but Chris was confident he would be fine. Don't get it twisted, at first, he wanted to go to school with Denny and Harry. But after thinking it over, he decided it would be better to make connections on his own.

Buck was more than happy to let him try his own thing as long as he was being safe. After the painful slow burn, Eddie and Buck tied the knot and have been married for two years now. It was nothing but heaven. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't scared his little boy was going off to high school.

"I declare you, officially a teenager. Welcome to angst and acne forever!" Harry had said that when Christopher's fourteenth birthday came up. Harry was already sixteen by now so he knew a thing or two. Denny, who was now fifteen, had recorded the interaction to show his girlfriend and Christopher's secret friend. Not really a secret but Eddie and Buck didn't know about him yet so it technically was a secret. There was a reason Christopher pushed so hard to go specifically to Theodore Roosevelt.

Manuel "Manny" Salvador Gutiérrez. Mouthful of a name to say at once. It's why he preferred going by Manny Gutiérrez. Harry and Denny met him when Chris invited them to the mall saying he wanted them to meet someone. Manny was the type of guy to be tough and stoic. To be known as the troubled kid who looked like could throw a mean punch(he could) and not get hit at all.

Always wearing worn-down Vans with slightly baggy jeans, sometimes ripped jeans, an oversized shirt with a jacket over. Or sometimes a graphic tee that color matched with his Vans and leather jacket. He dyed hair at the ends, piercings(eyebrow and nose), and small tattoos because his mom let him.

Underneath that though, kid was a total dork. Once he warms up to you he's a complete softy. Like a big furry black dog. Looks intimidating, but is dopey at the sight of his favorite person. And that person was Chris. They had met in Junior High in math class, which was Manny's best subject. The teacher recommended extra credit to tutor Chris and since then they've been best friends.

"Wonder what's taking so long?" Eddie hummed in response at Chimney behind him. After learning they had a 24-hour shift, Hen, Chim, Buck, and Eddie had decided to carpool in the black minivan so it would be less gas on everyone. Noticing the time they got out, Buck texted Carla ahead to not worry about Chris because they would be able to pick him up.

"Not sure, he's usually out by now. The final bell rang like 20 minutes ago."

Looking around, he couldn't spot his kid. He'd begun taking on a different style of dressing recently. Drifting slightly away from bright colors but keeping his nerdy side. His hair was also slightly different. He had shaved sides that weren't vibrant but still shined. Wore more Converse than Eddie had in his whole life.

Hen looked out through her window, which was closer to the school gates, and saw Chris walking out but without his backpack smiling.

"I see him at the gate but he doesn't have his bag." Buck and Eddie turned to look and were surprised that Hen was telling the truth. Chris had this thing with bags, that if he didn't have it on him during school hours, he wasn't functional. That's when they saw a 5,6, light-skinned boy with purple-tipped hair in curls in a messy mullet, running up to their son with a backpack on his body and holding Christopher's bag for him on the other.

Eddie's eyes bulged, he barely even got to touch the bag, including Buck. He wondered how Christopher allowed the boy to hold his bag as carelessly as he was. As the two teenagers looked around, Christopher saw the minivan, smiled, and waved. The boy next to him doing the same. Buck, Chim, and Hen waved back smiling.

Not Eddie, he was still in shock and protective dad mode. As the boys walked over Eddie inspected the kid closer. He got a weird feeling and immediately disapproved. Then again he didn't know him so judgment was base level.

"Never would've thought Christopher hung out with punk rock kids," Chim commented making Hen snort and Buck smile while glancing at the back seat diagonal from him. Hen moved back through the open middle and sat in the very back seat. As the door opened, Eddie adjusted himself in the driver's seat so he could look at the pair better.

"Hey everybody!" Christopher said cheerfully.

"Hey!" Was the synchronized greeting. When nothing came out of Eddie except a soft smile, Chris raised an eyebrow but chose to ignore it for now. Turning to his friend while reaching for his bag Christopher spoke.

"Thanks again Manny, I'll text you when I get home." The blonde said whilst putting his bag on the floor of the van. Raising his hand waiting for Manny to do the same.

"Más te vale menso." He replied in Spanish while dapping up Chris. Walking away after Chris closed the car doors, he put on his headphones and walked off down the street.

"Who was that?" Christopher gained a weird expression, not because of the question in general, but because of the tone his dad used. Is he angry at Manny?

"My friend. Why?" Laughter came from the other three "adults" in the vehicle while Eddie started the van giving Christopher more confusion than before. After dropping off the other two firefighters at their respective homes, the family of three headed home. Once inside, Eddie wanted to start asking Chris about Manny but the person of interest interrupted with a phone call. Unintentionally.

"Hey, big man! How's the homework Garcia gave us? N-no! Oh, come on! Another Delta math-, I swear he secretly hates us-,..." The sound of conversation drifted away as Christopher dashed into his room for privacy. A small laugh pulled Eddie from his thoughts.

Turning around to glare at the man who he loved oh so much, but would very much beat up for making fun of him.

"What?"

"Yeesh, spicy Díaz, my favorite. Wish I could have you to myself early." Buck sauntered over whilst pulling his lover in by the waist. Getting a petty pout from the shorter one.

"Siguele, aver como te va. Don't act like you're not worried either." Eddie sassed as he placed a soft kiss on Buck's lips, the latter happily reciprocating. Pulling away, smiling Buck sighed.

"Nah, especially cause I already knew." He informed his husband, who's eyes widened in shock. "I walk into Chris' room to put some clothes away and saw the Discord call open,... and their messages." Buck looks down somewhat shamefully.

If Eddie was immature, he would ask what the messages had said. However, today was not the day, he needed to know Buck's opinion. (He'll press him for details later when they go to bed) Smiling with jaw agape, he couldn't help but chuckle at his pale lover with blue eyes.

"So you're telling me that, you were judging me, for being too snoopy of my son.." burying his face against Eddie's shoulder to save embarrassment, "And you-!"

Laughing slightly cut him off, to be fair, he was laughing too.

"YoOU decided to SCROLL through our little boy's messages?? You?! The 'laid back' parent?!"

Cackling at this point Eddie was smiling uncontrollably whilst watching Buck wallow in shame.

"You guys okay?" Chris said smiling at how affectionate they were being peeking his head out of his door. The pair turned to look at their son. Damn, he'd gotten tall over the time he'd entered high school.

"Yeah, we're good bud. We're just laughing at something." Buck assured the blonde boy.

"Okay, hey is it okay if I go over to Manny's tomorrow after school? It's his birthday and we wanted to spend time together," Despite the emotional manipulation tactic(taught to him by Buck no doubt) Eddie caved and agreed to let him go, reluctantly, as long as he texted when they went anywhere different location-wise.

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

So be it the next morning Christopher was gone for school earlier than Eddie and Buck were up for their 10-hour shift, and he got suspicious. The last time that happened Christopher made pancakes and burned Eddies. On purpose. Called it revenge for when he was a kid who couldn't fend for himself. He got noogied for a good bit after that one.

Looking at his phone after brushing his teeth, he saw a message from Chris. Saying he left early with some friends because they were stopping by the store near the school. They were grabbing snacks to eat in class because their teacher didn't care as long as they multi-tasked(they wouldn't), and finished their online notes(they won't).

Looking over his shoulder, Buck smiled in awe. He looked so proud of his son that it made Eddie's heart melt.

"He's growing up now huh?" Eddie nodded but stayed silent. Raising a brow in concern, Buck turned the shorter firefighter to face him and gently lifted his face with his index finger. Poor Papa Eddie, had small tears forming in his eyes. "Awh, Eddie, mi amor. It's okay."

If you think Buck didn't hold Eddie for a solid 3 minutes whilst rocking slowly from right to left? You're wrong. He even moved his hands against the man's face and kissed his forehead. Pulling back into the hug, Eddie nuzzled his head in Bucks' muscular figure.

"Don't forget he still needs us." Eddie knew that, but the thought of Christopher one day leaving to be on his own was terrifying.

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

And need them he did. How did it go so wrong so fast? At first, it started like a normal workday. Mess with Chim and Ravi, gossip with Hen, work out with Lena, answer calls, and help Bobby make dinner. Stuff that was unexpectedly expected. That is till 1:30 when a call from a school. Saying that there was an active shooter in their walls.

"It's at Roosevelt," Bobby said without wanting to go into detail. Everyone in the back seat froze and gazed upon Eddie and Buck who quickly interlocked hands to try and pace their breathing to focus. "Think you can handle it?" Immediate nods from the pair answered. The others smiled solemnly.

Once arriving at the school they noticed police officers everywhere around the school, thank god, and students across the street on the far side of the park. They caught sight of Officer Morales, a good friend of Athena's, talking to the Principal.

Athena went up to them once seeing their arrival.

"Whoever it is, it's a student. The cameras Reid hacked showed no footage of anyone sneaking in on school grounds. I need you guys to go in and find some kids that are still in the building-" A loud series of gunshots were heard. People near but far enough away from the danger could be heard crying, yelling, or swearing. Reluctantly Athena looked to Eddie. "Christopher is in there still. Along with four others. We need to hurry. My group will flank left, you go right, I want this child caught."

Without wasting another second, and no time to fully think about what she said, the team applied bullet bulletproof vest underneath their jackets and broke a window to get in through the science labs. Walking around as silently as possible they tried finding the shooter without giving them a hint of an idea that they were inside.

Granted, shattered glass in an empty room isn't the quietest. Walking around Eddie's heart was beating quicker than ever. Of all things, why a shooter at his son's school? Then Eddie thought back to what Christopher had asked him yesterday. Poor Manny must think today's the worst birthday ever.

Hearing a crack, they froze. Getting ready to duck into cover in the classrooms or run across the hallway. The sound of running gets nearer, with a shadow then rounding the corner to face them. Manny.

The sigh of relief from the kid was the opposite of what the firefighters felt. The boy was covered in blood and his hair was more messy and gross from sweat. Bobby prayed that it was someone else's blood in an attempt to trick the shoot. Manny scanned each of them till running up to Buck and Eddie.

"I know where Chris is! Come on!" He whispered. Looking at the other firefighters he gave them information on where the shooter was. "She's on the top floor, I drove her away from where Chris was and looped around. She thinks I'm still up there."

So it was a girl. Snapping out of it Bobby radioed Athena and told her to meet upstairs to corner the shooter and catch her.

"Her?" Athena's surprised voice could be heard.

"She's the daughter of a gun shop owner. She must've been pissed enough about Monday morning to pull this," Monday? "Careful, it's not a pretty sight in room S-16." This poor kid. Following Manny down the hall he came from, they made it to the Library and headed to the back.

Digging through the ripped wallpaper, he opened up a hidden room. Inside Christopher was having a panic attack, holding a pair of long scissors. Once seeing Manny he dropped them and lunged into the taller kid's arms.

"Manny! Dads!" The boy said hugging his parents whilst his friend watched. Taking a good look at him, Christopher wasn't injured. Smudged blood from hugging Manny in the relief of seeing his friend alive.

"We gotta get them outta here," Buck said before shots were fired upstairs.

"Go, I need to find Angie. She's still in the upper bathroom. I saw her text." Manny told Christopher, almost forgetting the adults were still there. Seriously?

"No time, come on!" Eddie yelled and went to pick up Chris. But Manny was two steps ahead and grabbed his arm running away. Groaning Eddie and Buck ran after the pair. Eddie was cursing in his head, what the hell is wrong with him!? Putting them in jeopardy like this.

Seeing them stop abruptly, Manny pushed his arm against one of the fire escape doors. It looked like one of the other students propped it open to let others out in case they were still inside. When Eddie and Buck reached them, Eddie walked through the door and tried, key word tried, to drag them towards the truck.

"No, I need to get to Angie! She's still in there!" Manny yelled out trying to rip out of Buck's hold.

"Manny! She's gonna be okay, I know you don't trust law enforcement but these are good ones. They're my family," Chris calmed(reprimanded??) his friend and led him towards the truck. Once they got to the truck, Hen ran over to inspect the injuries on Manny while Eddie checked Christopher to double-check if he was injured or not. A thump broke the inspection though. Looking up, Eddie saw Manny lying down in the truck with Hen panicked.

"Manny!" Chris yelled, leaning over his friend trying to wake him up.

"Oh my god-, Eddie I need gauze for pressure, he was shot in the stomach!" Scanning the boy, he noticed the splotch of blood on his white shirt over the torso was getting darker. Also spreading and staining the vehicle along with the boy's jacket. A brief sight at the jacket let Eddie read out a name on a patch on his right arm. U.S. Navy Airforce it read.

"Shit! Buck! Grab Chris!"

"No! Buck let me go! Manny!" Chris yelled trying to break free from his pop's arms. Looking back at the scene the kid was barely breathing but needed serious medical attention quickly.

"We need to get him to the hospital. Now!" Nodding her head, Hen and Eddie transferred him to one of the ambulances and rode off to the hospital nearby.

"Stay with us kid, just a little longer!" Manny was looking around the ambulance looking at Eddie trying to respond to him. "No, no, no, don't talk, focus on breathing. I need you to stay with me! We're almost there!"

Looking out the window of the ambulance, Eddie's heart broke more. The sight of leaving Christopher behind in Buck's arms, still trying to break free and run after the ambulance. Eddie didn't doubt tears were streaming down his son's face.

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

Later after arriving at the hospital and dropping the kid off, Eddie asked the nurses, whom he knew personally from all of his and his husband's escapades, to give him updates on Manny. She agreed relieved after inspecting the file quickly and said she'd let him know anything that happened.

After an hour of searching and a shot police officer, they were able to catch the girl responsible. Apparently, on Monday morning one of the teachers shamed her for her behavior. Saying it was her attitude wouldn't get her far in life especially because she didn't have a mom. the teacher didn't apologize and the people who she asked for help didn't do anything about it. That doesn't excuse the shooting and the lives it cost. The teacher she tried to get wasn't even hurt after the fact.

Parents were crying whilst firefighters and police officers consoled them. Returning to the scene for any additional tasks, Eddie scanned the area looking for his team. After catching sight of Buck and Chimney, he and Hen ran up to them.

"Where's Christopher?"

"Carla took him home, Bobby let me call her to make sure he was away from here," Buck said from behind him. Looking around slightly Eddie saw Ravi sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. "Ravi was up with some of the officers and Bobby trying to get the shooter. She aimed her gun at Ravi and a kid hiding in the corner jumped in front of him. It went right through his skull. Held him in his arms and took his parents into the building to mourn." Eddie grabbed Bucks' hand and walked up to Ravi.

This poor guy couldn't catch a break. Looking up, Ravi revealed his bloodshot eyes and pale face.

"It wasn't your fault," Buck said leaning on one knee with his partner copying. Putting an arm on the shoulder for comfort. Shaking his head, Ravi bit his lip to stop more tears.

"I'm sorry Buck, but right now I can't believe that. I don't think I ever will either."

After that Bobby told them all to go home and spend time with themselves and their families. Once opening the door to their house, Eddie and Buck were tackled into a hug by their son and then a softer one from Carla. After she left, Eddie gave Christopher an update on Manny. He was stable but wouldn't leave the hospital for a few days.

"Do you know his parent's phone number? I don't know if they followed to the hospital after getting a phone call." Chris gained a pained expression and rubbed his eyes, pushing his glass up in the process, before responding.

"They aren't home, they're in Miami. They're truckers, so they're never really around." Eddie took a glance at Buck who was looking down at the table saddened even more. "They're good people, just not around a lot. He was mainly with his uncle till last year. I can't say more than that, it's personal and should come from Manny."

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

The next morning school was canceled for the next two weeks. Along with encouragement for parents to seek therapy for their kids. Chris already had one, but Manny had become a concern now in Eddie's mind. Birthday at the same time as shooting and almost dying was not a good combo.

"When Madison pulled out her gun she was in the English room. Me and Manny were walking down the hall from turning in papers when we heard the gunshots. We thought something loud hit the floor till she came out, saw us, and shot. I froze, but Manny reacted and shielded himself in front of me. Grabbed my hand and booked it downstairs. I was able to pull the fire alarm in time whilst someone else called the cops. Angie was the one that wasn't in the room so she dialed 9-1-1." By the end of retelling the incident, Chris was sobbing in his father's arms, trying to speak but couldn't.

After a small breakfast, they all headed to the hospital and saw the multitude of parents in the waiting room. Some with tears, others with anger on their face. Some blank.

"Why are we here?"

"This is where we brought Manny, figured you'd want to see him. Plus he deserves a good party for his birthday. Sixteen's a big one." Chris brightened up at the idea but went back to somber at the idea of Manny connected to tubes keeping him alive.

"Hey there, you visiting that kid you brought in yesterday?" the same nurse from the other day asked. Smiling Eddie nodded, holding up a bag with a cake inside. They stopped at the store quickly to buy a mini one. Eddie hoped he loved carrot cake. It was the only one they had.

"If that's okay. Don't wanna overwhelm him after yesterday." Buck coaxed, probably trying to subtly tell Chris they might not let him in due to not being on the emergency list.

"Yeah, honestly better you three than no one at all." That brought frowns to Eddie and Buck. His parents weren't home yet then. Going up the elevators and walking the halls down, they got to the room. Taking a deep breath Chris opened the door and saw Manny awake looking at something on his phone. Looking up he visibly relaxed yet still looked worried. Meanwhile, Chris was just happy to see his friend alive running over to hug him.

Buck had his arm over Eddie's shoulder and leaned his head on the latter. This kid wasn't so bad. And he deserved so much better than what the universe handed him this week.

#911 show #evan buckley #eddie diaz #henrietta wilson #chimney han #bobby nash #athena grant #christopher diaz #orignal character #fire family #ravi panikkar #118 firefam #fire-fam kids #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 original character

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elizabethemerald · 3 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where the ultimate portal caused Claire to become a half-ghost like in Danny Phantom

Claire focused, past the pain in her hands, on the staff in her hands. She could feel her body splintering and breaking, cracks spreading up her hands and arms and out from her eyes. This was going to kill her, but as long as she could get the remainder of Trollmarket out, as long as she could save her friends, save Jim, she would be ok with her fate.

She felt Jim join her with a hand on the staff, she heard him shout as he did so. The unbearable, excruciating pain of the portal ripping through her reduced a little as first Jim, then Toby, then Aaarrrgghh and Blinky and finally her little brother. It wasn’t enough, she knew even with them trying to take on some of the load, that this would still be her death.

The swirling purple cloud swept out from the staff, encircling all of the trolls in the Gyre Station and for just a moment the dark purple was replaced with glowing green. Then they vanished from the station to reappear hours later.

“What’s this?” An older, wise sounding male voice said.

“Another? Just like me?” Said a younger male voice.

“You are mine, body and soul.” Hissed a woman’s voice that would come to haunt her nightmares in the weeks to come.

Claire put her hand to her head. Ever since the portal she had been feeling off. She wasn’t sleeping, could barely keep food down, and she was constantly shivering. Her dreams had been strange and terrifying but she never remembered them other than a sense of horror when she awoke.

She shook her head and reached for one of her textbooks in an attempt to distract herself. She watched in annoyance as the book fell and slammed into her bedroom floor, driving a spike of pain between her eyes. She huffed in annoyance and crouched down to pick it up… and her hand went right through the book like it wasn’t there.

Claire could feel her hand tingling even as she was able to it through the book and through the floor beneath it. She was panicking, but rather than feeling her breathing pick up and her heart race, she couldn’t feel either. Her feet slipped through the floor and she started sinking as her panic grew even worse.

“Hey, Big-Eyes! I- whoa!” NotEnrique galloped into the room to grab her shoulders and tried to pull her back into her bedroom. “Come on, Sis! The ‘rents are home! Can’t have you falling into the living room!”

She took a deep breath, her first in who even knew how long and she pulled herself the rest of the way out of the floor. There was something glowing on her chest, but she ignored it as she forced herself to be solid, and breathe and for her heart to beat like it was supposed to.

“Don’t tell anyone about this ok?” Claire asked her brother, even as she tried to still her shaking hands.

There was a new guy in Arcadia Oaks. He didn’t stand out that much from any of the other high school students she had seen, but something about him seemed to pull her focus. She could feel the shadows around her swirling around her ankles as she narrowed her eyes at him. She watched him breathe out a small cloud of fog, look around in confusion, then zero in on her.

She glared at him and gripped her collapsed staff tightly in one hand and a gaggletack in the other. He hurried over to her, a friendly smile on his face, but she didn’t trust that any more than she trusted his human appearance.

“Hi! My name’s Danny!” The stranger said. He held out a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Claire, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind holding this for me would you?” She thrust the gaggletack toward him.

Danny looked at her in confusion before he took the horseshoe out of her hand. He twirled it on his finger for a moment before it slipped off and hit him in the head. As he scrambled to pick up the fallen horseshoe Claire could see strange, green glowing marks on one of his hands. They didn’t look too different from the black marks she could feel on her own hands.

“Do you want your horseshoe back?” Danny asked as he rubbed the side of his head and offered her back the gaggletack. Claire took it, but kept her eyes narrowed at him.

“Claire!” She startled as Jim called out to her. Only a moment later her boyfriend had his arm around her shoulders as he glared at Danny.

“Well, I’m going to head out, Claire, you and I should talk soon. I might be able to help you out a little. I know what it’s like to go through all this by yourself.” Danny handed over his phone number and waved goodbye, giving Jim a wary look as he left.

Jim had been suspicious and paranoid about Danny, but Claire finally convinced him to keep his distance while she met with the strange guy. There was just something about him that sang to her, <Same, Same, Same> his presence seemed to say. Whatever was happening to her since the Ultimate Portal, he seemed to know and maybe could help her.

She had all but ordered him to wait for her signal rather than escort her to the meeting. He and Toby were around the block, if she texted or if they heard anything disturbing they would intervene immediately. She rolled her eyes, as long as she had the shadow staff she would be fine, and for some reason she didn’t think Danny would threaten her.

Danny had shown her the Litchenberg figures that crawled up his arm and told a very brief version of his accident with a portal to another world. Claire just as hesitantly showed him the black cracks that now marred her arms, she could hide them when she wanted to, but anytime she didn't focus on them they reappeared.

Apparently they were the same. Halfas. Half alive, half dead. An exclusive club of five now. The information just about knocked the breath out of her chest and she almost fell through the floor, except Danny was able to grab her and turn her solid again.

“By the way would you like me to get rid of your passenger?” Danny asked, glancing at her eyes, seemingly to look into her soul. Was that something Halfas could do? Claire looked at him in confusion and he explained. “Looks like you might be partially overshadowed. Er, I suppose humans call it possessed.”

“I’m possessed? Yes! If you can get rid of it, do it!” Claire hissed, terrified of what she might have brought back with her from the portal.

Danny reached into her chest and pulled out a glowing golden orb before tossing it aside. Claire could feel more than hear the being scream as it left and she felt like a great weight she had been carrying since the portal was suddenly gone.

“What was that?” Claire all but shrieked, desperately keeping her voice down so Jim and Toby didn’t storm the area.

“I don’t know, but she was powerful. I don’t think you’ve seen the last of her.” Danny looked wary, his eyes tracking something Claire couldn’t see or sense before his face brightened. “But maybe you got to keep some of her powers, my girlfriend back home was possessed by an angry plant ghost and sense then has been able to influence plants around her. We think with enough practice she might be able to fully control them too.”

Danny didn’t stay in Arcadia for long. After he showed her how to transform into her half ghost form, and wasn’t that a trip and a half, he left. He had his own responsibilities in a city called Amity Park in Illinois. However he promised to come if she called.

She added him, Toby and Jim to a group chat where they could all vent and share memes about the supernatural problems they dealt with. Danny added his two best friends and apparent partners, Tucker and Sam. Claire was absolutely not taking notes on what it was like to have a polyamorous triad, even if she did send lots of questions about it to Sam.

Her and Danny talked a lot about ghostly powers and the other halfas. She knew to be wary of Vlad Masters and that Ellie Phantom was Danny’s clone/daughter and was traveling the world. Apparently Dan Phantom was Danny’s alternate time-line future self who was on parole to see if he could be trusted in this timeline. She decided she didn’t need more information and vowed not to mess with time travel.

Danny guessed she had a “shadow-core” and that was why shadows seemed to jump to her command when she was upset. They both went back and forth before they decided she was probably a protector spirit like Danny was. Her final thoughts before the portal had taken her life were about protecting her friends and the trolls. She was a little worried about how unhealthily codependent she was with Jim and Toby, but according to Sam that was par for the course, and that Danny would freak out if any of them were hurt while out of his sight.

Life in Arcadia continued on in a terrifying way. Gruesomes swarmed to the city in anticipation of the battle to come. Claire was able to free Draal from Gunmar’s control with her ghost form. The Defenders of Arcadia raced to Merlin’s tomb, only to find the ancient wizard wasn’t dead. And now Jim was… Jim was… in a way him slipping out of her sight in the black potion Merlin had created felt just like her opening the portal. She didn’t think he was a halfa like she was, but in the same way, Jim’s life ended and would never be the same.

Now Morgana was free and the Eternal Night was upon them. Morgana, who had possessed her, used her to revive Angor Rot. Morgana who was one of the most powerful sorceresses in history. She desperately hoped that Team Trollhunters would be able to defend the city and the world, but she also knew that sometimes you have to call for help.

Danny and Team Phantom answered in a big way. Danny flew his team to California and worked to defend the citizens alongside the Trollhunters. Sam worked with the local plant life to restrain and trip the Gumm-Gumm hoard while Tucker focused on coordinating emergency services and the defense.

Claire and Danny fought side by side while Jim fought Gunmar. The two of them were barely able to defeat Morgana, with Claire wresting full control of her shadow staff from Morgana before the two of them banished her to the Shadow Realm.

Danny apologized profusely, he had wanted to get some help from the other ghosts but something was making them nervous and behave strangely. She wasn’t sure what that was about, but she told him he could call on her and the Trollhunters would answer. Blinky mentioned possibly creating a Gyre tunnel to Amity so they could travel back and forth easier. Toby and Tucker weren’t thrilled by that announcement.

Love this prompt. I think team Trollhunters and team Phantom would work together really well. They 've both got a self-sacrificial hero, a goth who gets possessed by a powerful enemy, and a best friend who the writers are desperate to pretend is straight. oh also an enemy who literally has two faces and unhealthy obsession with the hero's mom.

Also did you think about the fact that the by becoming a halfa, The Ultimate Portal has to kill Claire at least half way? Devastating. The parents will never forgive themselves.

I forsee team Phantom eventually retreating to Arcadia if the GIW /the Elder Fentons ever go too far. Leave the ghost hunters behind and retreat to magic and fucked up city. Also the number of people in this city who have two halves is extradinarily high. Jim, Claire, Danny, Aja, Krel, Varvatos, and all the remaining changelings.

Power levels: Baseline Danny is stronger than Morgana's possession. Danny and Claire are about even with full power Morgana, making it a tense but winnable fight. Ghost King Danny is about as strong as Merlin and Morgana working together, and about as strong as any of the Arcane Order individually, though I think the full order actually working together would be able to destroy even the Ghost King, just like the Ancients against Pariah Dark.

The events of 3:Below and Wizards would play out very differently with the help of Team Phantom and I doubt that Rise of the Titans would happen at all.

Thanks for the prompt! Feel free to send me more prompts!

#danny phantom #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #crossover #danny fenton #claire nunez #Oh also both of the goths are part of powerful families in their city #i don't know you if you expected the double triads but I feel like at this point thats kind of my brand #Douxie realizes the danny is the ghost king the first time theymeet #he pretends not to notice just like he does with all the other troll/alien/ghost bullshit he's seen in his life #Jim is a jealous of Danny at first but danny gushing about his amazing boy and girlfriend changes his mind #and makes him consider some possibilities #Danny is wary of Jim because he doesn't know if jim knows about claire and he remembers how people in his city reacted to his secret (badly #also he can sense a powerful magical bond in jim ie the amulet and doesn't want to mess with any strange amulets

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idolsoftheshallowarc · 5 months

Text

01.

My name and Miles Zed, and I am nineteen years old. I have long black hair that I wear in my face way to often, and I have dark black empty soulless eyes and pale white skin. I wear all black consisting of a metal band t-shirt, and black ripped jeans and my favorite pair of black high top converse shoes.The story starts with me.I'm from North Springs, Colorado. I just graduated school and more than anything that means I have more time to play my video games. My mom made me get a job but she doesn't know I'm quitting soon. I mean, why do I need to work if she's just going to take care of me anyways?I tried to convince my parents to let me play my video games in peace, but it never worked. Ever since I graduated you would think they had a reason to let up on me, but never did.They eventually told me if I wanted to keep my car I would have to get a job, so I did. It was only a distraction and a good excuse to get out of the house.It was a normal night, and I was driving home from work. It was already 7:30 and dinner was at eight. But that wasn't the point. I needed to finish dinner early because I hated staying up to late playing GOD SLAYER 3, even though I always did.I was taking the exit off the freeway and when I saw it. It was the most beautiful comet I've ever seen in my life.The purple and orange haze of the blurry yet vivid comet shot across the sky and fell behind the trees. I thought nothing of it at first. But ad I got home and got out of my car I realized in all the excitement it gave me a headache.I ran up stairs after greeting my parents and took medicine and went back down for dinner. Little did I know that comet was a sign. Not only was it a sign, my life would change forever that same night.

#WebComic #Web Comic #My art #comics #IdolsOfTheShallowArc #IOTSA #ReadOnline #Idols of the Shallow Arc #TeenAngst #Fantasy

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juliettedunn · 10 months

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Change (Luz and King Fic)

"Maybe I won’t try to pick you up again for a bit.”

A bit. As if in time, Luz's ability to pick King up might improve, rather than continue to deteriorate. He had known this day was coming; he had noticed the increasingly strained breaths Luz let out when she tried to carry him for long periods of time, the wobble as he began to run out of space on her shoulders. Rather than perch securely on one arm, he had to awkwardly curl around her back, digging his nails in a manner uncomfortable for both. Really, he should have stopped trying to fit a year before.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ve been too big for a while.”

***

King is going through major growth spurts, changing way too fast and unpredictably for his own comfort, but his big sister is there for him.

***

King trotted to Luz’s house with growing eagerness. It was a friendly building with a sprawling garden of vegetables both native to the Boiling Isles and from the human realm, though from the state of the garden, Luz had trouble consistently attending to it.

The house looked vulnerable to the world, though Luz had warned King about the abomination traps Amity had engineered, lying in wait to capture would-be intruders in slimy purple casing. Luz had disarmed the traps for the day, with an urging to King not to tell Amity, who anxiously kept all the security strictly managed. According to Luz, she had to bribe Amity to make the traps non-fatal, though she insisted Amity was only joking…probably.

King had been here before, when he, Eda, Raine, and Camila helped her and Amity move in, but other than that he hadn’t really been over much. Luz making her official move to the Boiling Isles made it easier to see her in theory, and for the first year of her college King had seen her weekly as they worked together to uncover and experiment with his new glyph language.

But ever since Luz had gotten her own place with Amity, their time together had decreased drastically. Of course, King had already grown used to her long absences over her remaining high school years. At first it had been hard for everyone, especially with how many times they had seen Luz ripped away from them, each time apparently for good.

The Owl House had been so empty without her, even if she did visit often. But Raine’s arrival made it less so, and King grew adjusted to the new routine, enough that he didn’t feel the need to cling to his sister at every opportunity.

He was developing slower than the average witch or demon, but he had matured enough that he felt secure in his family dynamic. And if he ever got bored, Collie never hesitated to answer his calls and take him on a wild trip across the skies.

All this was true, but the fact remained that King hadn’t had a sibling day with Luz, just the two of them, in months, and he was overwhelmingly excited for it to begin.

Approaching the door, he caught the scent of shushrooms, and made a quick detour into the garden, scarfing down a few.

“King, I can see you.”

“Weh?” He looked up to see Luz heading down the steps, eyebrows raised at him. He shoved the last few shushrooms into his mouth and swallowed. “Luz!”

King leaped into her arms without a second thought, as he had always done ever since they first met, planning to scramble up onto her back. This time, though, instead of catching him securely, she stumbled, struggling to hold him and yelping as she fell.

She hit her side hard against the garden fence before colliding with the ground, flat on her back, choking on a gasp.

“Luz!”

“I’m okay,” Luz rasped. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

“But…isn’t that…”

When Luz had been nearly petrified, her organs had been frozen for a few moments, and nothing had functioned quite as smoothly since. The Healers had concluded she could for the most part engage in activities she had before, but her heart and lungs had to be routinely managed. They were weaker than average, and Luz often had to monitor her activities lest she suddenly start struggling to breathe.

On cue, Stringbean emerged from the house, carrying a bag of bottles and jars in her mouth, which she deposited at Luz’s side.

King tapped his claws nervously as his sister lay trying to suck in air, though her body relaxed significantly after she fumbled into the medicine bag and inhaled some substance from it.

Under Eda’s tutelage, she had grown quite proficient in potions and herbs, especially after she lost access to glyphs entirely for several years. With the freeing of healing magic from sigiled restriction, and aided by the suppressed ancient knowledge that was only just now being recovered, medicinal potions were much more widely available, though Luz still preferred to create them largely on her own. Many of them were her own design.

She sat quietly for a few minutes as her breathing got under control. King was too scared to say anything, just listened to her wheezing. What was likely only five minutes felt like hours, until his sister's breathing finally evened out enough for her to extend her arm to Stringbean. "Good girl," she spoke, giving the snakeshifter a grateful scratch under the chin.

“Luz," said King, voice breaking. "I’m so sorry.”

Luz paused in the middle of praising Stringbean, who had begun to purr. “Hey, it’s okay. It was an accident. I’m used to way worse. Comes with living on the Isles. And that new medicine works great at keeping these really mild." She gingerly got to her feet, wincing at the pain in her side. "Oof, that's going to leave a bruise though." She hesitated. "Maybe I won’t try to pick you up again for a bit.”

A bit. As if in time, her ability to pick him up might improve, rather than continue to deteriorate. He had known this day was coming; he had noticed the increasingly strained breaths Luz let out when she tried to carry him for long periods of time, the wobble as he began to run out of space on her shoulders. Rather than perch securely on one arm, he had to awkwardly curl around her back, digging his nails in a manner uncomfortable for both. Really, he should have stopped trying to fit a year before.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ve been too big for a while.”

“King…”

He couldn’t help but bristle at the look in her eyes. That same look of pity his loved ones always gave him these days. He never used to receive looks of pity. At first, it was always squeals and coos, then, when his true origins were discovered, hesitancy, awe, and sometimes a bit of fear. But pity...that was a more recent development, one that emerged after he began to be hounded by reporters and citizens wishing for blessings, not to mention the zealots who sought to kill the living proof of their religion’s falsity.

And all this while he grew and developed far slower than most children, and had tentatively begun to discuss his likely immortality to his loved ones. If only he had gotten a chance to ask his dad how long it took to reach full titanic size, or just how long he could be expected to live.

Collie knew some answers, but not nearly enough. The Archivists were careful with their wording, and as much as Collie wanted to help, they hadn’t been told enough to truly understand. What was clear was that Titans lived for at least several thousand years, and that was a future King was unable to fathom.

In a way, it was no wonder people felt sorry for him - the young Titan had taken to a lot of silent contemplation and brooding. “Teenage mood swings,” Eda would chuckle, though even she knew it wasn’t just that.

As much as King pitied his own situation, he hated the emotion from others. Why couldn’t he just be King, not a tragic, orphaned child cut-off from his heritage, a vulnerable target of assassins, the son of a literal god, or a strange, unfathomable creature doomed to live a life far vaster and more complex than anyone else. He was a Clawthorne, a son, a friend, a brother. That’s all he wanted.

“It’s fine,” he snapped at Luz, and she flinched, hugging her arms close to herself and making King feel even worse.

“It's not that I can never pick you up," she said after a moment. "I'm pretty strong. It's just, I can't really carry you around. Or catch you or have you on my shoulder or back. But I'll always be able to give you lots of hugs and cuddles. That'll never change."

“I know.” He sounded so stupid right now. Was that an actual tearful quaver in his voice? Over not being able to be held? No child could be held forever. Most grew up much quicker than him. Who else even got to perch on people’s shoulders for years? There was always a final time you were carried in someone’s arms, and you rarely knew when it was. Why was this such a big deal?

“I’m not a little kid anymore,” he said, mainly to assure himself, not Luz.

“You’ve grown up a lot. But I know you still love hugs.” She reached for him again, and this time he obliged, cuddling up to her while she squeezed him tight. “I’ll always be able to hug you.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“It is though. I’m sad about it too.”

“You are?”

“Of course! I’m going to miss carrying you around all the time. I knew it was bound to end, but for years it was just…our thing. You riding around on my shoulders. And it can’t be our thing anymore. I’m really going to miss that.”

Strangely, King felt better knowing Luz was also sad about it, that he wasn’t being overdramatic and childish.

“And, hey, maybe one day you’ll be able to carry me!” Luz laughed. “I’ll be an old lady and you can carry me places.”

King’s stomach dropped at the mere suggestion, a reality he knew was coming but didn’t want to even acknowledge at this point. He clung tighter to Luz, and Luz cleared her throat awkwardly. “But not for a really long time.” She hugged him close. “Sorry I said that.”

“It’s fine. I know it’s true.”

Luz fidgeted awkwardly, casting her gaze around as if looking for something to say, before she ended up getting to her feet and beckoning him into the house. “Come on, let’s sit somewhere more comfortable.” A good idea given they had been sitting near the garden for quite some time now.

King hadn’t seen the place fully furnished before, decked out in whimsical décor and memorabilia displayed proudly on bookshelves and windowsills . It could potentially be considered cluttered, but it was arranged in such a way that it felt perfectly comfortable and open.

“Your, uh, house looks nice.”

“Thanks!” Luz said, flopping down onto the couch, which King quickly copied. “We’re working on it. There’s still a lot to fix.”

There was another awkward pause. What was he doing? This was supposed to be a fun day with his sister; who knew when he’d get another one? Yet he was still on the verge of tears.

"I got that new battle royale video game we were talking about," said Luz. "Wanna play it?"

"With snacks?"

"Yep! I know how to prepare."

King tried to get comfortable on the couch while painfully aware of how much more space he took up than he used to, the way his claws had grown so thick and sharp. He picked up the video game controller, and was thankful that he was able to maneuver the toggle without much difficulty.

"Here we go!" Luz deposited a large bag of chips next to King. King snatched it up and started crunching them down. He had always been hungry, but now that he was going through another major growth spurt, he was more ravenous than ever.

"Weh! Save some for me, okay?" said Luz. Though her Titan transformation was temporary, she had picked up some habits, such as using the trademark Titan cry. King couldn’t be happier to share another thing in common with her, a Titan trait that he wasn’t completely alone in.

At her insistence, he looked up from cramming the chips into his mouth. "Sorry," he muttered, offering her the bag.

"It's okay. I've got more junk food, but I can make you a sandwich or something too." King only had to look at her before she laughed. "Right. We're here to eat crap and play video games until our eyes melt." She offered him a fist bump, which he happily returned. Then she passed him a couple candy bars before booting up her gaming system.

King narrowed his eyes. "Weh? How do you already have stuff unlocked?"

"Oh, uh...we had a going-away-party for Amity's trip, and people wanted to play."

"You started without me?"

"I know, I'm sorry! The temptation was too great."

"Your traitorous behavior will not go unpunished!"

Luz had shown King so many video games over the years that their skills were evenly matched. It didn't take him long to get acquainted with this one, and in a few moments the two were battling it out, slamming each other's avatars into walls and uppercutting them into the sky.

"Woah, this game's blood graphics fucking rule!" said King as he sent Luz's avatar flying once more.

"Shit."

"Haha, get wrecked. Your guts will spill!”

"Oh you poor, innocent soul."

"Weh?"

Luz unleashed some power-up King hadn't been aware of and smashed his avatar into the ground.

"What?"

The two continued playing, each winning and losing a round, until King ended up winning the final tie-breaking match. He gave a dramatic victory cry. "Ha! I have destroyed you! The student has destroyed the teacher!"

"This time."

"Don't downplay my victory!"

"Okay, dork," Luz laughed, shoving him.

"Hey, I'm the champion, you're the dork!" He playfully shoved back, but Luz let out an unexpected yelp.

"Weh! Still sore here, remember?"

King shrunk back. "Luz, I -"

"No, it's alright. It only hurt a second."

Still, the mood was ruined, and the guilt resurfaced. "I keep hurting you."

"You never hurt me that bad. It was just an accident, I could have done the same thing to you."

King shook his head. "No you wouldn't."

"Well, it's just because I'm more used to my size. You're changing so fast, of course it's hard to figure out."

Changing so fast, and it looked like he wasn't going to stop any time soon. Did Titans grow for their entire lives? Was there ever a point where he could just settle and get used to it? Would he always be gaining in strength until he could topple Luz over with just a nudge? Until he couldn't even fit in anyone's house? All that assuming his loved ones were still alive.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you know it’s okay to talk to me about this stuff.”

“What’ll that do? It won’t make me little again.”

“No, but I learned it helps sometimes, to get it out.”

“But I came here to spend time with you. I didn’t mean to make this a whole downer conversation.”

Luz set her controller down and drew King into a hug. King couldn’t help letting out a small whimper as he nuzzled close, rubbing his head against her shirt. Luz gently pet along his back, ruffling his fur while she spoke. “We’re still spending time together. We don’t always have to just be having fun. I haven’t seen you in a long time, and I want you to talk to me about stuff like this. It’s what big sisters are for.”

King had enough of fighting back tears. He hadn’t properly talked with Luz in months, and being here, held close in her arms, he allowed himself to let it out. “I’m just so scared. Everyone is getting older and moving on, and I’m being pushed into all these things, but I still feel like a little kid. Like I’m not ready for this, but I have to be, because I’m the Titan, not a child.”

“You are still a kid. I don’t know how long it’ll take for you to grow up, but as a technical ‘adult,’ I’m telling you it’s not so easy even then.”

“But at least people are growing with you. You’re following the normal path.”

“Normal path?” Luz looked at him, skeptical.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. Your aging isn’t like mine. Don’t pretend it’s the same. You have things change, yeah, but you still know about how long you’ll live, who’s going to stick around for most of it, what to even expect from your aging. And I don’t know any of that except that nobody’s going to stick around with me except Collie and a couple of demons like Hooty.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s not the same. But, I don’t know who’s going to remain in my life either. I think that’s always an uncertainty.”

“Well for me it’s a guarantee,” he snapped. “One of the only guarantees I have. There are no other Titans. I’m alone. Stop pretending you know what I’m going through.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Instead of speaking again, she did a nervous tap against her right arm.

King hadn’t really meant to snap at her, but he was so tired of being alone. Everyone who could have explained to him what was happening was dead. He was so, so alone, and no amount of reassurance from his family could change that.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not you. I know there’s not really much you can say. A lot of this I’m working out with Collie, but he's a kid too. I just want someone who actually knows something to tell me it’s going to be okay. My life can’t be like what I thought it would be. When I had Eda officially adopt me, I thought I knew where my life was going. Even if I never found my original family. But then we found out I was a Titan, and I’m almost immortal. I can’t have a normal life. I can’t even have a normal Titan life because they’re all gone. Everything I thought my future could look like is just stupid now.”

He looked at Luz, but it appeared she was waiting for him to say more, so he took another breath and continued. “If I just knew what was going to happen, and when. But I don’t know anything about being a Titan. Eda keeps telling me to just let myself chill and have things happen when they do, but how am I supposed to prepare for stuff when I have no idea what things are going to be like? No one knows anything about Titan development or how long it’ll take. Everyone else is changing, and one day they’ll die. I know it’s a long time, but not that long. And then I’ll be more alone. I already can’t make friends with people other than Collie. Who feels right playing with a god? I’m scared, Luz.”

He hadn’t meant to say that much. Why had he said that much, let himself turn into a blubbering mess again? Especially over something Luz couldn’t help with?

Still, he let her pull him into another hug while he struggled to stop his tears and listen to her response. For some reason, he almost believed she could be reassuring, even as he dreaded another vague “we’ll wait and see what happens” kind of comfort.

She was so quiet; was she even going to answer? Or did she agree with him, that his situation really was hopeless?

“King…I can’t promise things will be okay. You’re right. We don’t know what your development is going to look like. And I know none of us can really know what you’re going through.”

She paused again. This wasn’t a promising start, but somehow, the way she said it made King feel calmer than some of the vague inspirational words thrown at him from people like Grandma Gwen, well-meaning but useless for someone who was so isolated from anyone else’s experience.

Luz continued. “I used to believe in happy-ever-afters, but now I kind of learned there is no permanent 'okay.’ There’s just times that are more okay than others, and they're always changing. You never know when or how. But, I know that there’s always something good to find. Things you never even thought of before that you would have missed out on if the changes hadn’t happened.”

"Like what? What kind of things?”

“Like…like Collie! Or, wait, is it Coco now?”

“No! Only I call them Coco. You can’t do that.”

Luz held up her arms. “Sorry! Didn't know that was a closed nickname. Collie then. None of us could have predicted him getting released, and if we could, we would have done everything we could to stop it. I know we all would have fought to make sure the Day of Unity never happened, that Collie never got released, and that we didn’t get separated. And, it was terrible, but it happened, and Collie was finally freed, and now you have them. So, would you undo that, and solve it in the simpler way?”

King furrowed his brow. “Oh. That’s really weird to think about.”

“Yeah,” Luz chuckled nervously. “It is. I don’t like thinking about it a lot because I start worrying about the things I did." She started to scratch harder at her arm, but Stringbean quickly nosed her way in and Luz pet the snakeshifter instead. "But again…I guess we just never know what’s going to happen. Like, I didn't want things to change when we all lived at the Owl House together either, but then if they hadn't, I might've not reconnected with my mom, and gotten to be sisters with Vee, or had any of the opportunities I did. Even losing the original glyphs...that hurt so bad, but it challenged me to find even more ways to study magic, which helped Hunter and I start that disability program, and then when you started developing your own glyphs, it gave me a whole new language to work with that could do things the other one couldn't! So however things happen, well, something good is there. There’s always something good there. Even when you thought you lost it all, and it’s nothing like what you expected.”

“So you’re saying something good is going to happen no matter what?” He knew Luz was an optimist, but she couldn’t really believe that. “That’s not true. Sometimes things are just bad.”

“You still have to make the good opportunities happen. If things had gone differently, maybe you wouldn’t have befriended Collie, and they would have accidentally killed everyone.”

King chuckled wryly. "Probably.”

“But you connected with him, and you helped save the Boiling Isles and him. You did that. Even though the situation was bad, you made something good happen. Another person might not have done that and just given up, or tried to fight them instead. So see? You’ve got to make it happen, but it can happen from anywhere.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen? What if my life just sucks and it’s out of my control?”

“That…that could be. For a time. There’s always going to be times like that. I’m not trying to sound like I’m saying your life will be great. Because I know it might not. Life can really suck. I’m just saying, there’s always something there to make it worth it. Even if you really have to look, and you don’t find it for a long time. If we always stopped when life was at its worst, we’d never get to see all the surprising things that do turn out okay. Even if they seem small, and don’t last. Life is really weird and surprising with what happens to you. I didn’t always feel this way, but I’m grateful I hung around to see where my life went, and where it’s still going to go. You just never know.”

King rubbed his skull. “This is making my head hurt.”

“I know, it kind of does for me too. It’s really weird, but maybe it helps?”

“Kind of. Probably.” He sighed. “I don’t know.” What Luz said made sense, but at the same time, it was more waiting. More anxious anticipation of an unknown future, unclear when or how it would change. And as much as Luz reminded him the darker times wouldn’t last, she wasn’t the one facing an immortal life. To maintain overall happiness through a life of eighty or ninety years was an entirely different feat to doing that with a life of thousands. She could never really understand.

King wanted to believe what she was saying. In some ways he knew it was true. But it didn’t stop the fear. Even she admitted she didn’t know what his life would be. If his happiness would be great, or small snatches, desperately clung to amongst the pain. Probably periods of both, but which would make the bigger picture?

More waiting. His life was simultaneously far too slow and far too fast, one spent in frustrated anticipation for his situation to become clearer, his mind to mature, while his body and mind shifted and developed, and his loved ones aged. He didn’t know if he wanted to hurry things into a period of greater certainty, or freeze it all right now and never let it move. What stability could exist for him, anyway, in a world of constant upheaval and change? One where even the victories gained from the defeat of Belos were called into question, as ugly groups reared their heads, determined to bring back the system and doctrine that had so recently been overpowered?

He got so caught in his thoughts, he almost forgot Luz was there, until she said, “Well hey, I do know one thing that is guaranteed to never change.”

“What?”

Luz took his face between her hands and gave his cheek tufts a scratch. “That I’m your big sister, and I love you. Even if we see each other less, and our routine changes and our lives change, and I can't carry you anymore. No matter what, that’ll always be true. Okay?”

“Okay.” He sniffled and cuddled closer. “Luz…I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, buddy. We need to see each other more often. I know you’re growing up and have your own stuff, but we need our duo time.”

He nodded, sighing into her shirt. The thoughts hadn’t really calmed. Nothing had been resolved. But the hug was warm, and he felt loved. Things were okay, for a moment.

King was going to reply, but instead Luz pulled away and gave him a mysterious smile.

“Hey, what’s that look?” King asked, tilting his head at her suspiciously.

“Wait here. I just got an idea. Oh! And close your eyes.”

He obeyed, though he half-expected some jumpscare. It would have been a bit odd for the moment, but not out of the question.

Luz quickly returned. “Okay, hold out your arms.”

King held them out, and something light-weight and soft dropped into his paws. He opened his eyes to see a very familiar purple and white cat hoodie, the one Luz had quit wearing years ago.

King stared at the garment in his paws, then back up at his sister.

“Remember you asked me to keep it for you so it could be a hand-me-down? I think it might fit you now,” she said, smiling. “If you, uh, still wanted it.”

“You actually kept it?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?”

His tail wagged and he hugged her again, before he silently smoothed the fabric out, admiring it before tentatively attempting to slip it on.

There was some difficulty due to his horns, and Luz helped him when the hood got caught on them. But thankfully, the material was stretchy, and with some minor wriggling he managed to get it on.

It was still a bit too big, billowing out around his feet, but he wasn’t lost in the fabric, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to wear it at times.

“I have a hand-me-down,” he said quietly. Then he spoke a bit louder, once the sentence had fully clicked. “I have a hand-me-down!”

Ever since he learned of his father’s existence, he had dreamed of having a hand-me-down from him, before realizing the truth. The concept of a hand-me-down had even been cruelly spat in his face amongst the Titan Trappers. To Tarak, a hand-me-down was the severed skull of a child, and all the weapons King thought he would inherit were used to slaughter his kind.

The symbol in the tower he hatched in was a possibility, and for a while he had worn it on his collar, though it had turned out to have magic that concealed him from Collie. Now that Collie was his best friend, that wasn’t an option anymore either. There had been no physical history left to inherit, beyond the massive bones of his ancestors. Not a trace of true heritage, all relics of Titan culture wiped clean by the Archivists and the Trappers.

The destruction of an entire civilization and nearly all traces of it made him more desperate than ever to have something tangible, meaningful, to hold. Especially if he was going to outlive his family by so long.

Eda and Raine made it a point to give him keepsakes and trinkets ever since he spoke to them about this, and each one he treasured. His pile of plushies gradually transformed into a nest of all kinds of odd knicknacks, until it was more impressive than a dragon’s hoard, at least to him.

And now Luz. How many times had he watched her run off in this exact purple hoodie, getting into wacky hijinks, while he trotted after her on stubby legs, always falling behind and crying out for her to come scoop him up onto her shoulder and carry him along on her daily grand adventure?

“How do I look?” he asked. Not that she would ever say he looked bad, but he hoped she truly approved.

“You look amazing, but see for yourself!” she said, directing him to a tall mirror.

It was certainly an awkward fit, but it suited him far better than he had hoped, and he did a little twirl to see the full effect.

Luz pulled out her phone, and raised her eyebrow to confirm King had no qualms with it. He gave her a thumbs up, then went into increasingly dramatic and silly poses, until the two were lost in giggles over it.

“Aww King it fits you so well. I’m really glad you like it.”

King turned to admire himself once more. His tail wagged, though it bumped uncomfortably against the shirt. “I think there needs to be more room for my tail though.”

“I can get Hunter to modify it for you.”

“Okay, but not too much!”

“Of course not. The power of the meow must be preserved.”

“Ew, don't call it that.”

“Last I checked it was my hoodie originally, and that’s what I remember calling it when I wore it.” She brightened. “Oh, that means you have to say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know.” She held her hands out like cat paws. “Meow meow.”

“I am not doing your hideous cat impression."

“Oh, are you too much of a cool, moody Titan for that?”

“The ears won’t work on my head. My horns are in the way.”

“So? Embrace the cringe!”

“You're just like Raine.”

“Embrace the cringe!” She hugged him close and tickled him until he shrieked with laughter.

“Okay, okay! Meow meow!”

“There we go!” Luz cheered. “The ancient power has been transferred. Now it’s truly yours.”

King pumped his fist in the air. “Yes! The power of the ancient cat gods are mine!"

Luz beamed at him, and he beamed back. He tensed reflexively to leap into her arms, but caught himself, and with another pang of sadness he wrapped his arms around her in a simple hug instead. “Thanks, Luz.”

"Any time, buddy."

After letting the hug linger for a moment, he pulled away. “Okay, enough downer stuff. Can we do a game rematch so I can destroy you again?"

"You're on."

#the owl house #toh #luz noceda #king clawthorne #the owl house luz #king toh #toh king #the owl house fanfiction #toh fanfic #titanlights #Titan lights #my fics

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jaiwritesgiantswoahh · 3 months

Text

g/t story for you!! (parts warning! this is part one!)

tobias walked down the hallway of the all-inclusive high school, trying his best to stay away from the human students as he made his way to his next period. although, he wasn't like the other giants walking by him.. this giant was part vampire. meaning he could walk in the sun, garlic didn't hurt him, and he actually likes the cross necklaces he sees. however... that does mean he has the hunger for blood like a vampire. usually he doesnt feed into this hunger; he eats lots of red meats and that usually keeps it down. however, at this moment, the vampire hadn't eaten any bloody foods in a good while, and he really was craving something better than just a steak.

but that would have to wait; he has to get to his class, of course!

as the bell rang and signalled the beginning of 4th period, the vampire giant sped up his walk, being nearly the only one in the hallways at this point. however, unbeknownst to him, there was a human girl full on running down the pathway, panting and desperately trying to reach her own 4th period before the late bell rang. as a human, her walking speed wasn't nearly as fast as a giant's, and since the school was built for a giant... she wasn't exactly making good time.

most students had the help of a giant friend to get them to class on time; the schedules were strategically arranged so that every human had at least one giant that shared their next period. today, however, the giant that was supposed to get Kiara to her next period was absent, and as much as she loathed walking.... she absolutely detested the only other giant that could get her to this class—

and that giant was tobias.

now, toby didn't have a track record of being mean. he simply kept to himself and would rather draw and listen to music than socialize. who needed people when he has his Rammstein? he actually didn't mind kiara. he, of course, wasn't exactly friends with her, but he didn't dislike her. she was one of those people who got along with anyone and everyone. so outgoing that she can light up a room with just her smile. so sweet that she can lift the spirits of anyone she graces with her presence.

and tobias just... doesn't. he's not that kind of person. he doesn't smile unless he has a reason to, and he doesn't know how to make someone happy.

but back to business.

kiara looked behind her briefly as she felt footsteps, nearly sighing in relief as she thought she felt a giant who could take her to her class. but as soon as her eyes landed on toby, the human female scoffed, finally stopping in her run.

"hey! toby!" kiara waved her arms as she watched the giant boy approach.

"hm?" tobias finally looked up from what he was doing, scanning the ground for a sign of life nearby. as soon as he saw kiara... the girl who was sweet to everyone except him.. he stopped, looking down with a gentle look. "can i.. help you, kiara?" the teen slipped his black and purple headphones off his head, letting them rest around his neck to give kiara his full attention.

kiara seemed to tense under the gaze of the giant. she wasnt afraid of him hurting her... but she couldn't help but admit that he's terrifying. his shoulder length, dark brown hair resting above the orange colored eyes that nearly pierced her soul gave him a bit of a shaggy, monstrous look. his hair was teased a little, giving it a poofy effect while still looking maintained and presentable. unlike his dark red sweater, that had mysterious stains and perpetually snagged threads on it, complimented by his ripped, black jeans and combat boots. he wore various chains, a couple pentants looped into the chains around his neck, and a pair of silver cross earrings hanging from his pointed ears. hidden behind his round lips were a pair of sharp fangs where normal canines should be, as well as a pointed tongue with a single stud piered into it.

"y-y.. um-" kiara choked out as she tried to form a sentance, distracted by his rugged appearance. "are you going to mr. bates's class next?" she managed to spit out a full sentence without stuttering, but she stroked her long ginger hair in anxiety.

"uh, yeah. why? need a ride?" tobias suddenly kneeled down, causing kiara to stumble backwards, nearly tripping on her black flats.

at this, toby reached forward, but stopped short, showing her his open palm that seemed ready to snatch her up. his pale, slender fingers retracted when she regained her footing, but he still seemed ready to catch her if she needed it.

"i-i do! please.." kiara muttered, averting her soft, light blue eyes from his bright amber colored ones.

"alright.. wanna, uh.." before finishing his sentence, toby laid his hand flat in front of kiara, giving her the option to climb on by herself in favor of just picking her up.

kiara stared at his palm for a moment, but slowly took a deep, prepatory breath and stepped closer to the massive, offending appendage.

#g/t #giant/tiny #gentle giant #g/t fearplay #unintentional fearplay #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #vampire #giant vampire #tiny #emo boy go brr #part one #two part series

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sunny-reis · 9 months

Note

OMG HI I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE AKITO!! may i request akito x reader cuddling after a long, rough day? if thats cool. oneshot if you do :) have a good one 🤞

oneshot - tired cuddles with akito

you're the coffee that i need in the morning; you're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring

an: OUUYDHDHHDFH TYSM !! 🫶🫶 tbh i thought the other akito oneshot would end up being garbage bc i'm not as familiar with him or vivid bad squad (*'-'*) tbh i've been feeling touch starved lately so im gonna focus more on the affection here lolz (worry not it'll be a balance of fluff and mild angst)

tags: gender neutral reader, just a tidbit of angst (having a shitty day), intimacy

there's no way today could possibly get any worse.

at least, you hope so. sometimes you hit rock bottom and think it can only go uphill from there, but life comes back with a pickaxe, ready to dig until you're truly at your worst.

like today. you think you must've woken up on the wrong side, since absolutely nothing went right – you spilled cereal on your kamiyama high school uniform in a hurry, almost missed the bus, nearly fell asleep (and got yelled at for it) in math class, noticed your backpack was ripping just a second too late, and came home at the wrong moment, when the sprinklers were on, and ended walking inside completely soaked. needless to say, you’ve had a miserable day.

the thick piles and piles of homework to do don't help, either. as you lay in bed, mindlessly scrolling through pinterest, the deep pit in your stomach envelopes you in guilt. even though you've been trying to get up and start doing whatever you can get your hands on, maybe pre-calculus worksheets or an analysis of “the most dangerous game,” you find you simply can't, being too drained to do anything but lament in your head. mentally and physically, you barely have the strength to make it through the rest of the day.

hours go by, the bright afternoon sky becoming a beautiful purple-pink sunset around dusk, and you still haven't moved from your bed. your parents came in a handful of times to try and get you to let it out, but to no avail – you don’t foresee yourself getting up any time soon. it's only when your stomach rumbles that you sit up and pad downstairs to grab a snack from the kitchen.

pouring out a handful of cheerios into a bowl, you zone out, staring out the window overlooking the backyard. although you feel slightly better after a session of moping and lying in bed for hours on end, time goes by viscously; you find you’re still not out of the mental slump, and everything feels too overwhelming. the hair on your arms is too prickly, your sweatshirt too warm, and you have the sudden urge to claw at your skin. sighing, you trudge back upstairs and quietly shut the door, sitting down at your desk. after putting your phone on silent, you browse soap2day for a random movie to drown everything out with (and hopefully forget about the rest of the day).

after finish watching howl’s moving castle for the nth time, you sit up in your chair, stretching and yawning. although you still somehow feel like garbage, imagining yourself as a character sure felt relieving (and fed your escapism, but that’s a worry for another day). shutting your laptop down, you crawl into bed to try and sleep; the analog clock on your night stand reads 11:37. placing your phone on the table, you pull the covers over yourself in attempt to drift off.

unfortunately, your attempts were only fruitful for forty-five minutes at most. you awake to an abrupt thud on your window. brows furrowed, you shrug off the covers to see just what’s going on; opening the window, you’re met with the unexpected presence of an abashed akito crouched on the roof.

“akito? what the hell are you doing here, and at this hour?” you ask, eyes wide.

“can you let me in first? it’s cold and windy and i think i might fall.” facepalming, you help him crawl through the window, shivering at the suddend draft and closing it.

“so, care to answer my question?” you pick at him, flopping down on the bed and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“i should be asking you that, honestly,” he shrugs, “i tried texting and calling you but i didn’t get anything back, so here i am.”

“oh…” you laugh sheepishly, “sorry about that, i had a shitty day and couldn’t stand having my phone go off.”

“aw, what happened?” akito asks, joining you in bed. you glance at the door, checking to see if it’s locked. although your parents are more than welcoming of akito, seeing him with you alone would be a bit of an unpleasant shock. leaning on his shoulder and pulling the blanket over the two of you, you recount your eventful day to him as he fiddles with a lock of your hair.

“and i didn’t even get to have lunch in between all that.” you add, whining. although you now find the events just a little funny, you still cringe in embarrassment when thinking about being yelled at by a teacher in public.

“i’m sorry all that happened,” says akito, pulling you closer to him, “but you know you can talk to me about it if you want to, right?”

“yeah,” you pout.

“well, are you feeling any better than before? if not, i know just what to do.”

“i think so? i watched howl’s moving castle and it made me feel a little better.”

“i think christian bale tends to have that effect on people.”

“for sure!” you not, “but yeah, i feel…icky, i guess.”

“maybe you should take a shower, sometimes that helps,” he offers, “but you should probably do that in the morning, you’ll get sick if you shower now.” you roll your eyes.

“really? that’s such a mom thing to say.”

“hey, don’t come to me if you shower and get a cold!”

“nah, i’m too tired to shower right now. since, y’know, i was in the middle of sleeping until someone woke me up.” akito laughs sheepishly.

“is it really my fault if you made me worried sick? i mean, i was just fulfilling my role as the caring boyfriend, don’t you think?”

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you laugh, laying down on his lap.

the two of you spend a while chatting in bed until god-knows-what time, when you’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. akito makes a show out of tucking you in, giving you a quick peck before climbing back out the window. you melt away into a dreamy sleep, feeling warm and fuzzy at the thought of akito’s warm embrace.

#akito shinonome #pjsk #project sekai #akito imagines #akito x reader #akito oneshots #pjsk x reader #pjsk imagines #pjsk oneshots #gn reader #gender-neutral reader

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strawhatsoraya · 2 years

Note

the last one (haha who am i kidding, i'm never done w. you), i promise. may i pls pls pls request an aot fic with a jealous jean x reader (i said what i said). can be angst, can be smut, can be whatever u like babey the world is ur oyster. bonus points if it includes strawberries and wine somehow. wink wink.

My love, I have had you waiting for this for like a month. I'm so sorry. Again, I don't know why time gets away from me so easily. I see your jealous!jean and I raise you an arranged relationship/contract marriage au with a jealous!jean. I had a really rough weekend so this was an attempt at distracting myself. I wanted it to be better than this!! But I don't think you would sit down for 12k of this. Maybe another time. So I limited the word count down to 4.5k lmao.

Please enjoy. Oh, yes, I included your requests for strawberries and wine *winks* You know I can't say no to you.

A Messy Inconvenience

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN X FEM READER | NSFW WORD COUNT: 4.5k CONTENT WARNING: profanity because Jean has a tiny bit of a potty mouth, lots and lots of groping, dry humping, alcohol consumption (would it be a fic I wrote if they weren't drinking to some degree??? i think not), nipple play, lots of teasing, jealous possessive jean likes to do a lot of biting and marking, even if frankly he has no right to be jealous, he is a HYPOCRITE, that should be a warning, also jean does whatever he wants then acts like he did nothing, so another warning, he throws dishes in sinks and breaks them, another warning, the man breaks every domestic law and rule, i will fight him A SUMMARY: Jean and Y/N are in a marriage of convenience, and have been for several months. There is no reason for feelings to be involved, but when someone decides to hit on Y/N at the gym--Jean has to come to terms with emotions he has no power to control.

An arrangement of convenience should always remain that: a convenience.

Four months had passed since you first walked through his door, carrying very little in your arms. When he had asked you about the rest of your possessions you had smiled—tight lipped, abashedly, almost secretive. I didn't have much to begin with, you had said. I'll just consider this a fresh start. It had always been this way. He had met you in college, as you walked down the corridor with your head in the clouds, carrying photocopies from course books you couldn't afford.

His chest was solid when you ran into him, papers scattering into the air like tinted flower petals reminding you—one by one—that you didn't belong at that school, no matter how hard you tried. He still remembers the hole on your slip on shoes, and the way the peek of the purple sock teased him. He still remembers the flush on your cheeks, the watery pathetic look in your eyes as if you had been holding back from crying all day long. He still remembers the way they laughed at your patched up backpack, and how you held your head high.

And he remembers the way it filled him with fiery rage, how it consumed him and prodded him to want to burn the whole establishment down—just like now. He watches quietly as he sits upright on the bench. His fingers curled into fists, gripping so tightly his clipped fingernails threaten to piece skin. There's a man next to you, smiling down at you with a lecherous sheen to his eyes. Jean does his best to sit still, to stretch his arms above his head and not picture himself ripping his eyeballs out. His hand touches your elbow, and Jean stands up, reasoning yelling in the back of his mind to grab his attention.

The contract flashes through his mind's eyes, taking precedence over his anger.

An arrangement of convenience should remain a convenience. Your lives were meant to be lived in privacy, without the meddling interference from each other. Those were rules strictly discussed and agreed upon. Jean's mouth twists into a scowl at the memory of his signature, neatly scribbled at the end of the paper—the same one that he kept a copy of in the drawer of his nightstand.

You had every right to entertain that idiot if you liked—even if Jean thought he looked like he couldn't count past ten. You had every right to smile back, the way you did, and laugh at whatever joke he had just said. You had every right to live a life away from him, as long as you came back home every night, to sleep in your own bed, in your own room.

He grabs a towel, and sprays sanitizer on the bench, finding cleaning his own sweat infinitesimally more productive than to focus on the bitter jealousy gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Jean knows he has no leg to stand on, no right to stride up to you and swat his hand away. He has no right to feel cheated, or uneasy—to feel like you're being tugged away from his fingers.

But he does, so he spins in place and walks towards you, feet slamming down on the gym mats—muffling his anger. He tries to think of excuses to give, something or anything that would make him sound less pathetic than he felt. He is within earshot when he hears you.

“No, I won't go with you,” you say flatly, your gaze is pointed as you blink. “I'm married,” you tell the man. Jean is surprised when he feels your hands on his bicep. The way your fingernails softly dig into his flesh remind him that this moment is real. It's not just another fantasy that plagued him at night while he laid in bed skin slick with his own sweat. This was you, standing your ground. This was you, holding on to him.

At the moment it didn't matter whether he was just an excuse for you to push away unwanted attention. Jean stares the man down who looks appropriately abashed before his mouth twists in anger. Jean feels his own mouth water. The words are cocked on his tongue but you're pulling away, leading him towards the exit and down the stairs. They fizzle and die out in smoke with every step taken.

He had hoped the heat of the shower would wash it all way. His hair sticks to his forehead under the shower head. Eyes closed, water running over his skin, he tilts his face to the ceiling in hopes that thoughts of you would evaporate from his mind and follow the steam away from his body. Instead, you envelop him in your heated cloudiness. He sees the band of your sports bra digging into the soft flesh of your torso. He can picture, in annoyingly perfect detail, the sweat that clung to the small of your back, the way drops drifted lower until they disappeared into your spandex. The same spandex that had made him uncomfortably tight in his gym shorts when he saw you bend at the knees for a squat.

Jean stays in the shower long enough for his fingers to prune. He stays until thoughts of you turn hazy, less significant. When he makes it out of the shower with wet hair, a towel around his shoulders he sees you coming out of your room, and into the kitchen. His eyes track your movements, a predatory hunger prowling inside him like a caged animal. Jean coughs into a closed fist; a sad attempt at composure. Your curls are wet, soft ringlets sticking closer to your skull than he is used to. He is used to seeing them wild, and bouncy, swaying with every move you make—but this sight isn't unappealing either.

Your pajama shorts are, frankly, a bit too short for polite company. Jean tilts his head in barely restrained admiration as you move towards the fridge and bend over to reach for something in the back. Ass cheeks taunt him as they peek out from under the legs' hemline. Your white t shirt is snug over your chest, and see through enough he can almost picture every detail on your bra.

Jean swallows thickly and drops himself on the couch—the same spot he always occupies as you cook.

It's where he can watch you the best. It's usually innocent, almost pure but tonight Jean feels filthy as he takes in your silhouette. He can't stand the sight of your hair, the way you keep brushing it away from your face with an impassive hand. He can smell your shampoo—imagine it. He had smelled it enough times when you got too close; the scent of coconut and vanilla. He is irritated at how accurately his mind can recall it, how he can recall the back of your neck and how badly he had wanted to kiss it then. Jean licks his lips.

He wanted to kiss it still. Badly.

Jean is still irate when he sits down for dinner. His body is tense from the constant clenching of muscle. His jaw hurts, but he chews anyway, not wanting to appear ungrateful. Your mouth; however, is treacherous. A sinful siren leading him to murky waters. You wrap it around each morsel, and around your fork, as if he was made of wet paper; wafer thin. Jean swallows his desires with a swig of wine. He did not often drink, much less wine, but you had insisted; another month in faux marital bliss.

You had a strange sense of humor he couldn't help but entertain. It pissed him off to no end.

The wine is sweet on his tongue, and he wonders if it's the same for you as you throw your head back, determined to get every last drop in your glass. Your tongue dips around the rim of it, throat exposed for his devious eyes to take in. Jean shakes his head, pretending his brown hair is in the way of his eyes. In reality, he's trying to shake your hold off his mind. He's trying to dislodge the imagery of that man at the gym running his tongue up the column of your throat. Jean blinks, a heat over his eyes as he finds the hollow of your neck, and fights the urge that blooms inside of him.

He wants to kiss you there, on the soft flesh that connects your shoulder and neck. He wants to follow up the trail to just under your ear, and he wants to mark you time and time again; a signature left on skin drawn with blood and teeth.

Jean bites down on his last morsel of dinner and barely misses his tongue. He is nauseated by his own desires. He thinks there might be something innately wrong with him and the way he wants to pull you up to the table and rip your clothes off, so he can fuck you before the desire kills him first.

He thinks he hears your voice saying his name in ecstasy in his ear, loud and clear, so he slaps his hand on the table in an attempt to make a louder sound. His blood rushing to his ears, beating against the walls of his sanity, threaten to drown out your voice.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, brows drawn together in confusion. Jean shakes his head, and smiles—soft laughter following his gesture.

“There was a mosquito,” he lies with ease, wiping an already clean hand with a napkin. He sees your eyes narrow, and sees doubt peek from behind the brown in them but he ignores it. Jean had bigger, bolder things to worry about—like the sudden erection in his pants. He moves his hips in the seat, trying his best to adjust himself under the table without using his hands. It doesn't work. It especially doesn't work once you have decided you're done with entree of the night and move on to dessert.

Strawberries had never seemed like a poisoned fruit before but Jean starts to question reality when your white teeth bite down on the bright red flesh of one. Juice spills over your bottom lip, a faint red that trails down your chin. You hurriedly bring up a hand, collecting the drips on the crook of your palm. Jean breathes out noisily through his nostrils, a rogue hand going to his crotch where he palms his erection. To adjust, he lies to himself, to push it down in a way that would not pain him, but the stroke of his hand only reminds him of what he is missing.

Your fingers—the ones that grasp another berry and another berry. Your lips—the ones that suck the whip cream right off the red tip of another strawberry.

His breathing is barely controlled, and he feels heat slide up his neck and face; lust filled fingers seeking to gauge his eyes out. The same eyes that refuse to let you go. They follow you as you move to carry dishes to the sink. He doesn't know when he does it, but he stands up nonetheless, as if he is tethered to you by an invisible string. He follows you into the kitchen, his own empty dishes in his hands.

“You know,” you start, placing the dishes in the sink. You're full, and content, but it wouldn't be right to finish dinner without at least bickering once with Jean before bedtime. Also, it helped to ease the tension that flooded your body at the feel of his presence. He was standing closely behind you. Too close.Enough to make your heart race. “Since I cooked dinner yet again, the least you can do is do the dishes.”

You turn around, determined to laugh your way out of this situation. Jean's arms are around you, plates clattering in the sink as he drops them in haphazardly. The noise is sharp and it fills your ears as Jean's mouth clashes against yours. There's a gasp in the back of your throat, one you swallow promptly when he pushes against your lips. The kiss is tight lipped, forceful. His hand is searing against your skin where he grips the back of your neck, thick strong fingers digging into your flesh. His free arm curls around your waist, and he pulls you in close, crushing you against his wide chest. A flush blankets you when you feel his hard on press against the softness of your belly.

Jean thinks he might suffocate. His shoulders stiffen as he keeps his mouth on yours, trying to weigh your reaction. He thinks he should wait for a sign from you, anything that will grant him access to the inside of your mouth to find the tongue that teased him time and time again earlier. He thinks he should practice patience but the scent of your breath heavy with the sweetness from the white whine threatens to intoxicate him; to strip him from whatever meager remains of inhibitions populated his mind and body.

Your eyes flutter open and close. There is heat at the pit of your belly. You're aware of this feeling making you tremble. You're aware of the embarrassing throb between your legs, the tell tale sign of rushing blood in a state of arousal. Your body wants his, and it only makes his erection all the more evident. You're not sure if you should return his kiss, but you find yourself pressing tighter against him, eager to see what would happen if you wiggle in his embrace; tease him just a tiny bit.

As you slip your hands over his chest, your lips break away. Jean slots his mouth against yours, his tongue slipping in between your sweetened lips. In a rare moment of tenderness, Jean brushes his tongue against yours, urging goosebumps to run their course over your brown skin. You gasp in his embrace, and it was all the incentive he needed. He didn't have to think anymore. He could just take.

So he claims your tongue as his—sucks on it with greed he tried to hide with pretenses and lies. His hands go rogue, they act recklessly as they smooth down your back and grasp fistfuls of the tender flesh of your ass. Jean sucks on your bottom lip, groaning as his hands keep moving. They slide over your hips, and over your belly until they find your breasts. He is nipping at the corners of your mouth, mumbling things you don't catch while he kneads your tits. You are too preoccupied by the building wetness between your legs to care about the words he's trying to say. From experience, you know it's nothing important. Jean had the innate ability to talk the most crap when you needed him to the least.

You don't respond, and it upsets him. So he pushes you against the sink. You cry out as the edge digs into your backside. Jean picks you up by the waist and places you back down on top of the edge of the sink. You mumble something about the faucet and Jean reaches around you, blindly as he is sucking on your tongue, to move the faucet around—anything so you'd stop complaining, so you'd stop interrupting him. Your taste floods his mouth; strawberries and wine, a combination he knows he'll never be able to recover from now. Your tongue marks him everywhere it touches, tattoos of memories digging into the skin of his jaw, down the column of his throat.

His fingers are tangled in your curls. Jean grunts when you bite down on his neck, tugging at sensitive skin. He pulls you close, tightly, as if that would help ease you under his skin. Your mouth is unforgiving, and Jean lets you go as you suck on the hollow of his neck, feeling his grip on you becoming elusive. He can't contain you or this heat slowly building in the kitchen. You are an arsonist and he is an abandoned building, too tempting, too lonesome and swallowed by darkness for you not to set on fire, to not stand back and watch as the flames eviscerate its foundations into dust.

So you dig your teeth into his skin, time and time again in your path for revenge. You leave a mark for every smart quip he threw your way, for every time he laughed sarcastically at something you said. His hand slams on the door of the cupboard above you. You look up, startled, eyes clouded with lust. His dark lashes obscure the flame behind his eyes, but you see the glistening saliva on his bottom lip, and the flush of his cheeks. You see his chest rising and falling, hear the rattling of his breath and in that moment you know that Jean Kirschtein is a beast barely contained.

He is a hunter seeking to be reformed but salivating at the chance of one more kill.

His body is trembling, fighting the urge. You look so decadent underneath him, trapped between him and the kitchen sink. Your neck is marred by angry teeth, and a hungry mouth. His mouth stretches into a lazy lopsided grin. That had been his doing, and he should feel no satisfaction. He had no right and no reason except that he just wanted to. Just like he just wanted to pull your shorts down, and push your panties to the side and fuck you right there and then, on the sink, with the dirty dishes behind your ass.

A newfound breath in his lungs he goes back to your mouth, a stupid moth to a burning flame. In his mind, somewhere small and dark, he knows he should stop kissing you. He knows he should end things here before they become more complicated, before you hate him in the morning. He knows this, but his body no longer belongs to him. He thinks, in agony and in lust, that maybe it belonged to you now as you slip your hands under his shirt and run your nails down his back. He hisses into your mouth, a small groan reminding him of his hardened cock. Jean thinks of pulling away but the moment his lips are not on yours, he sees that man again—that fucking ugly face smiling down at you. If your tongue is not in his mouth he thinks about him, kissing you. If his tongue is not pressed flush against the pulse of your neck, if he's not feeling your erratic heartbeat reminding him of the throbbing of his cock—he thinks of that bastard, running his hands all over your body, pulling moan after moan from you.

He groans again as he kisses you, too much teeth and tongue, too much passion to the point you cry out when he bites down too hard; he tastes blood as he licks your bottom lip in apology. He must have lost his mind, he thinks, as he licks it again and again until he can't taste copper anymore, until you grow softer, more pliable in his embrace.

His hands are under your shirt, fingers slipping under your bra. You cry out as he pinches hardened nipples. His tongue is back on your neck, and he kisses over the marks already left, and sucks where he thinks it is too light; not stark enough. He signs over them, again and again, as he twists his fingers, causing you to moan.

“Jean” you breathe out, your trembling hands going to his wrists. You hold on to them loosely, as he continues to tease your breasts. You bite down on a whimper, and almost lose your resolve when he looks down at you through his dark and thick lashes. “Why are you like this?” Suddenly, she wanted to add, but Jean's hands are relentless. His gaze is unwavering as he watches you squirm under his touch. In all honesty, he wanted to tell you. He wanted to confess the times he had thought about you this way, responding to his touch so eagerly that he'd wake up in a sweat, aroused by the ghost of your scent in his sweatshirt.

Still, he couldn't tell you. Not now. Maybe never.

“Service,” he pants out, brushing his thumbs against your nipples. You arch your back at his touch, a soft lewd song humming in the back of your mouth. “Consider it a service for you making dinner.”

He pushes his hips against yours as he curls his fingers around your throat. His hold on you is tight, almost suffocating. You gasp both at the feel of his erection, mercilessly rubbing against your heated cunt, and at the pressure he builds with his fingers. Your eyes flutter close, another soft moan filling your mouth. Jean thinks he's at his limit, but he ignores it. He pushes past it with every thrust of his hips, seeking out every sound you can give him; every moan, sigh, and whimper he can collect. He stores them in the back of his mind for later, for when his bed feels cold and empty.

A heat swirls at the pit of your stomach. It goes around in circles, tighter and tighter each time. You're familiar with the sensation, enough that it makes your toes curl in anticipation. You gasp and shout, holding on to Jean with one clammy hand. Your other shoots out behind you as you shout in surprise when one particular thrust rubs against your sensitive nub just right.

“I'm gonna cum!” you yelp as his face comes towards you. He's chuckling in your ear, and your hand moves again without you realizing it—your body's own way of trying to ground itself from the flight of ecstasy. Your fingers graze metal, and you hear the running water. Your breathing is harsh against your own ears. Jean is laughing again as you feel him reach around you. You feel something wet and cold splash against your back and you jump in his arms.

Jean pushes against you, one hand clamped tightly around one hip. “Easy, you'll fall off,” he says against your temple, a small smile stretching his swollen lips. You dig your nails into his shoulders, wanting to bring him back to the more pressing matter. You had been so close and he had slowed the speed of his hips, causing small jittery motions of your body every time your oversensitive clit received friction.

“Why did you stop?” you ask him, but his eyes are unfocused. His jaw is set, and he looks everywhere but at your eyes. You feel his gaze on your mouth, and your neck. You feel him staring at your chest. He is reaching around you, holding his hands under the running water. He brings them towards you, and slides them over your chest over and over until it soaks through your t shirt. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth as you watch him. He is laser focused. The sight of white teeth pushing down on a berry colored bottom lip shouldn't be so arousing. You consider suing or at the very least writing a strongly worded letter, affronted at how wet it made you; wetter even.

It was starting to become embarrassing how much you craved him at that moment. You whimper when he wets his hands again, and slides them under your shirt. They're cold against your overheated back, fingers unclasping the bra. You narrow your eyes as he expertly reaches through your sleeves, pulls down the straps with your help, and tugs the bra off from the front—as if he's done this before, many many times.

You don't want to think about it. In fact, you hate that you are, even as your nipples are erect. You bite your tongue in hopes of staving off petty jealous things you want to ask and say. You don't get to expend too much energy in that endeavor. Jean never ceases to surprise you, and he commands your attention by grasping your breasts over your t shirt.

His mouth hangs open as he watches, amazed at the sight of the brown areola peeking through the wet fabric; translucent and teasing. You feel you should say something now, while you still can but the words never make it out. His mouth is back on you, on your breasts as he sucks on the nipples through your shirt. His kisses are gentle at first, testing, exploratory His curiosity becomes hungrier, slightly feral. Jean feels himself go blind as he sucks on your nipples, teeth grazing the t shirt until his own skin prickles from the sensation.

You egg him on, thrashing in place, seeking out his hips time and time again with yours. He feels your wetness through your underwear and straight through your shorts. He groans as he sucks loudly, his hands finding your ass. He brings you closer to his hips, moves them against you, feeling sickeningly satisfied with himself. It is him that's making you unravel, and it is him that has you here in disarray, shirt soaked through with a mixture of water and his saliva.

And it is his hair, your fingers tangle up in, and it is his name you call out when you cum, time and time again.

When you come down from your high, when your hips stop moving so viciously against his throbbing cock, Jean finds the will to pull away. He stands away from you, a small amount of drool oozing down his chin. He wipes at it casually with the back of one hand. His gaze is heavy, and his face is flushed in a way that makes you self conscious of your own.

“I'm gonna rest for a bit,” he tells you as he takes another step backwards. Your eyes flit from his face, to his abused bottom lip. You can't help when it drifts lower, to the obvious bump in his sweatpants. Jean turns away from you, and starts walking away from the kitchen and down the corridor towards his bedroom.“I'll do the dishes later, so don't fucking touch them,” he says as he pauses midway to twist his torso. His finger is pointing at you. You're enthralled by the way he frowns at you, at how casually he has changed the subject, as if he wasn't desperately rubbing his cock against you seconds ago. “That's my job, okay?”

He leaves you on the sink, the water running behind you. You startle and jump to turn it off, a shaking hand grasping the metal knob tightly. You try to ignore the slick sensation between your legs, how cold the shirt felt against your hot skin. You try to ignore the sick feeling taking over your chest, and how uneasy you felt now that Jean was gone. Now that his mouth and his hands weren't goading you into orgasm, your mind felt slightly clearer.

You shouldn't have done that.

An arrangement of convenience should remain that: a convenience. Entertaining this, whatever it was, would only make this complicated; a messy inconvenience. You set your jaw, and your convictions and decide that tomorrow morning, when your mind wasn't clouded by the phantom kisses Jean had dropped on your skin, you'll have a serious talk with him.

Lines needed to be drawn clearly in the dirt, in blood, or whatever it took.

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empires-au-ideas · 2 years

Text

I know I don't post too much about them, but I love Withered Witch

...

Please Don't Insult the Cirlce I've Trapped You In

...

Shelby had done it.

Okay, maybe any ol' witch could trap a ghost, but she also failed all her seance classes so this was a new high for her.

The ghost was the one making the music, using a similar spell the teachers would use during school dances. Though this magic wasn't neat like the teachers, it almost spilled everywhere, like someone pouring out a bag of flour.

The ghost had long red hair, now that she could be seen within the circle. For a dead person with no visible wounds, she was rather young. A big purple witch hat, green dress with a more lavender cloak, big round glasses, and most terrifying of all: a really big wand.

She looked familiar...

"The circle is WAY too wobbly to effectively contain anything," the ghost rolled her eyes. She yelped as she tried stick her hand out the circle, the lines where her veins were while alive pulsing red. "Oooh! Nice job on the anti magic field though!"

She also SOUNDED familiar. All naggy like Shelby's teachers. The whole time she was flipping through her books for banishing spells (Shelby had the misfortune of trapping the ghost in her bedroom) the ghost had been going ON and ON about what a below average job she was doing.

"It may have been a while ago, but if I'm remembering right the last time I made a circle like this- under way higher pressure- it was a lot better than this." The ghost remarked. Shelby was about to banish her shoulders to the afterlife and all the ghost could bother was to look a LITTLE bored.

"Gah!" Shelby slammed her book shut, casting it off to the side, like the four others she had read before it. "Can you at least PRETEND to be scared?! Or wrathful?! Or whatever else NORMAL ghosts do in this situation?!"

"Why would I be scared?" The ghost raised an eyebrow. "I'm not in danger."

"I'm about to rip your soul up and cast the parts into limbo?!" Shelby tapped her foot, reminding the ghost.

"At the rate you're going, I think I have time to get out of this," the ghost shrugged, smiling. Shelby sneered. The smile was too warm for the vision of a malicious ghost in her head. "But it is nice to formally meet you, it's been too long since I've been with students."

"So you WERE a teacher!" Shelby pointed at the ghost, triumph in her voice, even though it wasn't reallya discussion to be won. "If you're some magic teacher... why haven't I heard of you?"

"Really?" The ghost raised her eyebrows. She extended a hand, but Shelby new better than to stick her hands in occupied containment circles. She learned the hard way. "Geminitay. Pleasure to meet a modern practicer."

Shelby's stomach dropped.

Gemini freaking Tay. Of course. What other ghost would just, you know, decide to haunt her? And play ominous music?

Uh oh.

She was the fricking founder of pre modern magic. Of course she could recognize a containing circle from a mile away, especially if the legends about those demons were true.

Shelby stumbled back. "You're gonna kill me, aren't you!"

Gemini sighed. "If my hoal here was to kill you, I would have done it already."

Shelby yelped. Looked over, cringing back a little.

"I mean that in a reassuring way!" She clarified. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"SHELBY OF THE EVERMOORE PREPARE TO MEET YOUR END!!!"

Gemini rolled her eyes. "Though, he might be."

"HUH?!" Shelby's heart was racing as she gripped her wand with white knuckles. She held it out in front of her, snapping her head I every direction as ominous creaking and hisses came from all around. He sounded like he was shouting from the bottom of a well, his voice was dispatched, too echo-y.

Yep, this is where Shelby Shubble dies.

"Sausage!" Gemini groaned. "Cut it out!"

The second ghost whined, turning visible right in front of Shelby. This one was wearing blue robes encrusted and weaved with silvers and golds. Similar to the other, he had a big wand- staff then, if it was the old magic- alight with a blue flame. Unlike Gemini, put up on display in the circle, Shelby had to unfocus her eyes, stare at empty space to see him.

Shelby's brain clicked. "Of freaking MYTHLAND?!"

King Sausage is renowned for his innovations in dark magic, as well as ritual sacrifice. Surviving after both getting corrupted by a demon and also going toe to toe with Geminitay? It was a wonder he had managed to die at all.

"Ooh! I love meeting fans!" King Sausage cooed. He held out his staff. "Unfortunate I have to kill you now."

Shelby shielded her head as the king lifted his staff. Just as he was about to bring it down upon her, Gemini sighed.

"No one's getting killed," Gemini walked through the circle- with a little struggle, to Shelby's credit- and her form flickered to the same "not there but there" Sausage had. "See? Not in danger. I got out just fine."

"Geminitay and King Sausage in the Evermoore..." Shelby sat down, rubbing her temples. "Sure."

"Gem and Sausage are fine. Glad to see you didn't fail history at least," Gem grumbled. "It HURT to look at your report card."

Shelby blanched, looking up. "Then you two know-"

"That you're not supposed to be here, we know." the ghosts said in unison. It sounded rather, well, HAUNTING with the airy voices.

"You..." Shelby gulped. Founder of magic and known demonic summoner/worshiper staring her down wasn't exactly putting a dampener on her nerves. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

"Don't know if we CAN!" Sausage huffed. "Even that god couldn't see us! Definetly wasn't responding when I asked 'how's the weather up there'."

Shelby snickered, settling down a bit. "But... why are you haunting me? Did I do something?"

"Standard unfinished business," Gem shrugged. "Though, I'm curious as to what YOU have to do with it, we weren't here before you arrived if I remember correctly."

"I was having so much FUN in the afterlife!" Sausage complained, pouting. "You know Pearl's god now?"

Gem lit up. "Really?"

Shelby listened to the ghosts discuss this "Pearl" before the conversation got sidetracked, which was fairly quick despite one of their best friends turning unto a god?

"I think I need to help you guys with your unfinished business, if you came here with me," Shelby cut into the conversation. "But this partnership only works if you don't go around scaring me and the frogs and the one forest spirit I actually managed to get in here."

Sausage let out a cry of agony as Gem nodded. "Seems reasonable enough. Though, we do need to get those grades up. It's been a while since I've done any teaching-"

"You literally told Scott 'just try harder' after he nearly froze your whole lake." Sausage pointed out.

"Oh be quiet!" Gem jabbed him in the stomach with the end of her staff. "I taught you and Fwhip, didn't I? I'm sure I can handle a student who WANTS TO LEARN."

"You're just mad I wouldn't teach you any blood rituals." Sausage stuck his tongue out.

"Can't do blood rituals if you don't have blood anymore, doofus." Gem also stuck her tongue out.

For such pioneers of so many types of magic practices, the two were WILDLY immature. Especially if they both died at what, forty is?

"Wait..." Shelby brushed her hands through the air, stopping the ghosts before they somehow killed eachother. "Why have you been leaving those signs then? Does it have to do with the unfinished business?"

"Oh no, we didn't make those," Sausage smiled. Huh. "We usually just hang out in your house, so we don't notice any more than you do."

"Sausage!" Gem hissed.

"Cool." Shelby slowly nodded. "Didn't even notice ghosts in my own house. Amazing. Anything else I should know?"

Gem clenched her teeth. "Don't look too closely at the potion manuals..."

Shelby glared, having to re unfocus her eyes a second later. "Gem. What did you do to my manuals?"

"Uh..." Gem looked from side to side. "Sausage dared me to!"

"Hey! Don't play like that!" Sausage squaked.

Shelby might not have noticed the ghosts leave if they weren't so loud.

This would be... interesting.

#empires smp au #withered witch au #shubble #geminitay #mythicalsausage #writings for the aus #empires smp

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