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runner-owen · 2 years

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You are drawn into the darkness by the music. No human in this stolen castle should be awake at this hour, the magnificent old clock rocking the minutes back and forth between one and four. Yet there it is. A violin cries in the eternal night, over the desperate fury beyond the walls.

It pulls your soul, even though you know already who is playing that sad, sad song.

At the edge of the room you linger, falling into a crouch to stay out of sight. This sitting room, half repaired, half transformed, is not unfamiliar to you. A fire dies in the hearth, burning low like the blue glinting crystal lamps. In the center of the room he stands, his long dark hair flowing free of the ribbon that usually held it, his worn and handsome face strained.

You can't look away from him. There embodies a tragedy in his music you cannot understand. It unsettles you. He is not as old as his music makes him seem. After all, he's only human.

Mid-note, he stops, and sighs, face wrinkling.

"You are a stubborn little pest, aren't you?"

You jolt. When did he and how did he notice you were here?

"Bad enough you scared me from my horse and injured my leg," he said, pulling the violin from his shoulder. "Now you follow me to my place of temporary sanctuary?"

"It was an accident," you whisper.

He looks at you, Locke Hepatica, and he looks tired.

"Nothing is ever an accident," he says, and there's only exhaustion in his words.

You stand from your crouch. He tenses but doesn't move. You don't either.

"Why are you here, fledgling?" He asks.

"The music," you say.

"Ah." He nods, sets the violin down. "I imagine you were not trying to avoid the actual question, which is what you're doing at Black Velvet Manor."

"Oh!" You blink. "I'm not allowed to talk about that."

He grins. "I hope you know that explains more than you realize."

Before he can speak again, he cringes. The man falls back onto the couch, face bracing with pain, and you reach for him without thinking. Hepatica shakes his head. A moment and then another and he sighs, leaning his head backwards onto the couch.

"I'm so sorry," you blurt out. "I didn't mean any of this!"

He smiles at the ceiling. "There are no accidents," he says.

There is nothing now but the smell of dust and soap, the restless fire and the furious storm beyond the walls of the former vampire stronghold.

"Do you know what I was playing, just now?" Hepatica asks.

"It was beautiful," you say. "It was sad."

"It was about the Goddess," he says. "And her husband."

You shift. That's new. You couldn't remember much about humans considering the Goddess's husband. He is merely a vehicle for her suffering, the father of vampires through her. He didn't even have a name. At least She has a thousand titles. He is just… the Evil God.

"What about them?" You ask.

He isn't looking at you still. You could drink from him and he would not be able to stop you in time. But you don't want to hurt him. He is already full of hurt.

"Do you think he regretted it?" Hepatica asks. "After she birthed their last child and died. Do you think he understood what he'd taken from the world?"

"I can't imagine he cared," you say. "He was wicked even for the rest of the Gods."

Hepatica raises his head.

"He is your grandfather," he says, "metaphorically. Isn't he? You worship his children."

"That doesn't mean I have to like him," you say.

He laughs. Something warms in you. It's good that he's laughing. It's better than his sadness.

"You are a strange one," he says. "What kind of vampire says something like that?"

You just shrug. You just smile.

#runner owen series #dark fantasy #vampire fiction #vampcore #gothic aesthetic #gothic fantasy #gothic fiction #character: locke hepatica #reader pov #vampire reader #flash fiction #dark fiction #fantasy fiction #written by coffee

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thevoidstaredback · 30 days

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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Part 2

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lazylittledragon · 4 months

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fucking love pinterest. i can get anything on pinterest. there's no transphobic dogwhistles or nazis on my pinterest feed. pinterest would never hurt me i love her

#ramble #all the food and art inspiration i could ever want #get an adblock and it's bliss #posts written during the second half of my coffee

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poisonedbycoffee · 3 months

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𓈒 ݁ ₊ thinking about! early morning with bi-han. (prompt)

It's one of his favorite things: waking up next to you, especially earlier than he needs to. You're still asleep, so vulnerable, so close to him than ever. Your peaceful breaths, the soft rise and fall of your chest. He can't help but watch you, touch you.

His fingers on your skin, running through your messy hair, brushing your face, touching your lips with his thumb, so careful and soft, as if you were a crystal vase that would break if he push a little bit harder.

"Hey," Whisper of your morning voice. Your eye remains half-open for a moment before you wrap yourself ever more deeper in the blanket, hoping to prolong awakening.

"Hey," Bi-Han takes his hand away. "You spoke in your sleep."

"Really? And what did I say?"

"How much you love me and can't live without me."

You open your eyes, unable to hold back a smile. "Liar." He smiles, too, and you move closer, pressing your face into his chest.

"I know what I heard."

When you accidentally fall back asleep, too entangled in his warmth and feeling comfortable, he gently kisses you on the forehead, and gets up to get ready to be a Grandmaster again.

#— written with coffee ˖ ࣪⊹#bi han #bi han x reader #bi han x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader

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somerabbitholes · 3 months

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my second ben lerner book — charming, self-affacing without being insincere, with traces of what eventually became the hatred of poetry, committed to poetry without being able to define it, drifting but not aimlessly, and so, so funny

#booklr #books #books and reading #studyblr #bookblr #book blog #aesthetic #aes #reading #bookstagram #literature #coffeeblr #written extracts i like #ben lerner #granta #studysthetics #home #study aesthetic #coffee aesthetic

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kaybzzart · 9 months

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Winter Harv !!

#On the coffee is written “Simp Nation Coffee”#with like a small self portrait #cuz i admit i'm a huge simp #my art #art #sdv #stardew valley #sdv harvey #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley harvey #mustachio man tag

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coffee-system-uwu · 1 year

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After Andrew started making Neil hold his hand, Neil decided he loved it. A month or so later, he was trying to figure out how to take it a step further. He was scared less of embarrassing himself, and more of upsetting Andrew. Finding a comfortable next step might be a little difficult.

It hit him one lazy morning. He woke up first, which is to be expected. (Andrew wasn't a morning person and often grumbled about Neil's tendencies to be up at the cracks of dawn.) He was watching Andrew sleep, admiring his only slightly more peaceful face.

The only parts of them that was touching were the arm Andrew had stretched out under the pillow Neil was laying on, and the arm Andrew had thrown across Neil's waist sometime during the night. Neither one of them ever moved much while they were sleeping, so they were both still facing eachother.

Today he found himself staring at Andrew's lips. His mouth was so fascinating for Neil, because of the words he spewed like venom, and the kisses that he covered Neil in despite claiming indifference.

Neil was a little bit more selective of where he kissed Andrew, there were boundaries. But while he was admiring Andrew, he came to a bit of a realization once again, that as long as he asked, he might just be able to do the same, outside of the bedroom even.

A couple days later, the Foxes took a pitstop for coffee on the way to a game, they weren't particularly worried about their opponent, it'd be an easy win and everyone knew it. It was almost unfair how much of an advantage the Foxes had.

While they were waiting in line, Andrew grabbed Neil's hand. It wasn't really romantic, Andrew was still stiff about it, but it sent a shiver down Neil's spine regardless. Now would be a good time.

"Yes or no?" His voice might've cracked, but Andrew thankfully didn't mention it, he just raised an eyebrow and considered him slowly.

"Yes."

Neil took a deep breath and turned towards Andrew, leaning down. Andrew started to tilt his head up, seemingly expecting a peck on the mouth. But Neil carefully raised a hand to Andrew's head and turned it so he could place a kiss on Andrew's forehead.

The reaction when Neil pulled away was immediate. Andrew's face flushed and his eyes widened as he stared at Neil in disbelief. A couple seconds later he regained his composure. He jabbed Neil in the side with his free hand, and squeezed the hand that was holding Neils so hard Neil wouldn't have been suprised if bones broke.

"You're a fucking Junkie." He hissed.

"You liked it."

"I hate you."

#shae #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfhc #all for the game #the foxhole court #all for the gay #andreil #andreil trash #this was long and poorly written #in my defense ive only had 4 cups of coffee #anyways #Andreil casual intimacy

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elvyn · 4 months

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Lady Furina

#genshin #furina #furina de fontaine #I think she has become one of my favorite characters in Genshin #and she drinks the same coffee as me xD #love her #in my opinion she is one of the best written characters there #my art #genshin impact

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slashersteve · 2 years

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Hi, can I request a Steve Harrington x girlfriend reader where they get into a car wreck and Steve freaks out. At first the reader thinks it's about the car but it's really about them.

This request actually reminded me of a part of an old, unpublished series I wrote a few years ago a little after s3, so I revamped it for this. Also, I'm trying a new format for writing more shorter requests! Thank you lovely <3

warnings/extra tags: cursing, mentions of blood, car accident, st2 steve because meooow

✧ ✧ ✧

The car was a wreck.

The frame of it looked like it was completely demolished, the red paint scratched off in various places, and the headlights were practically non-existent. The windshield too was one tap away from being completely shattered.

It certainly looked like it belonged in this junkyard you recklessly drove it through in order to save your boyfriend and the kids he found himself babysitting and monster hunting with.

You might say the cherry on top was the demodog blood that stained the scrapped pieces of the car, or the actual demodog that was pinned against the destroyed hood.

"What-what the hell just happened!?" Steve was shouting from where he had laid on the ground after he jumped out of your way, "Oh my god!"

You were stumbling out of the car, your head feeling incredibly disoriented before you nearly collapsed. Your hand had found a metal bin filled with various junk, and you leaned on it as to not fall to the ground.

The sound of Steve calling your name made you lift your head up to see a panicked expression written on your boyfriend's face as he was running toward you. You stared at him for a second, before you remembered what you had just done.

Your heart sank, realizing that the car you just crashed into a couple of demodogs wasn't yours. It was Steve's, and you probably just totaled it right in front of him. When you turned your head and saw the damage, guilt had already settled in you, and you very quickly began to apologize.

"I'm so sorry," you told him, your voice still quite winded from the crash, "I just saw a bunch of them surround you and I didn't know what else to do, so I just-"

Steve was in front of you now, his soft brown eyes frantically moving over your face before resting on a cut on your forehead that was protruding blood.

You didn't even realize you were injured, too focused on the fact that you destroyed Steve's car.

"I can't believe this," Steve said to you, and you almost wanted to cry, "Are you crazy? God dammit, you really just did that-"

At the sight of your eyes welling up with tears, Steve felt his heart stop and he thought the worst.

"I swear Steve, I will help you fix it, or hell I'll give you my car until I can get you a new one, god I am such an asshole, I didn't even think about it-"

Steve had barely started to listen what you were talking about, as his attention was on your wound and he was about to ask you if you were hurt bad anywhere else because you were about to cry.

"Wait what?" Steve asked you, his eyes resting back on yours.

You were frowning deeply, and replied in a quiet voice, "I destroyed your car, Steve."

His eyebrows drew inward, and his eyes flashed toward the smoking, hunk of metal that was currently pinning a twitching demodog against another, much older and abandoned car.

Steve blinked for a moment, clearly seeing the damage then turned back to you, "What? That's what you're worried about?"

You nodded weakly, "Yeah, it's your car Steve-"

"Screw the damn car," he interrupted, looking at you as if you had grown two heads when you really only assumed he cared about that hunk of metal rather than the well-being and safety of his girlfriend.

You still weren’t getting it though, “But I totally ruined it-“

Steve interrupted you again, “I’m more concerned about you, shit, you’re bleeding pretty bad. Henderson! I hope you have bandages in that backpack of yours or something!” His hand reached upward to the top of your forehead, his hand carefully touching around the wound. You winced when he did, and he apologized.

You didn’t know why you were so concerned with the car rather than yourself too, or why you would think for a moment that Steve, your loving boyfriend, would care more about it than you.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head when your eyes met each others and he saw your still confused gaze.

"Did you seriously think I cared more about a car?" he asked you, still baffled by the fact that you probably did.

"....no," you lied, and he shook his head and laughed quietly. He grasped your hand then and began to lead you toward the bus with the kids and where Dustin was pulling out a bandage from a medkit he was smart enough to bring.

"The car can be replaced, you cannot be, now come on before more of those...bastards show up," Steve told you, "Don't do that again though, god you scared me."

It was touching to realize that it was you Steve was concerned about, even with the pulsing pain in your head, and your half-foggy mind. It served as a reminder to you that Steve loved and cared for you as much as you loved and cared for him.

#brought to you by me someone who drank a whole iced coffee at 3 am and got this written #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #reader insert #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader #asks #ily anon #anonymous #requests

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questwithambition · 1 year

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It was so sunny that I decided to eat breakfast and read on the porch

#best way to start the day #will be doing it again tomorrow #questwithambition #studyblr #studyspo #books #bookblr #booklr #currently reading #a day of fallen night #samantha shannon #it’s amazing so far and beautifully written #food #coffee #cottagecore #spring #aesthetic

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sleepnoises · 1 month

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tragedy: the history of starbucks that i checked out from spite for legends&lattes is ALSO badly written

#stop making snarky little jokes and tell me Coffee Facts #when will the proper coffee history come in off hold :<#I don't want my histories to be flippant I want my histories to be written by earnest and concerned nerds

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runner-owen · 2 years

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Too Curious [GN human reader x vampire]

You knew better than to explore the vampire church you found. You went back anyway. He was waiting for you.

Part 1 of ? - Stray

[SFW. Dark content ahead, ask to tag]

Forbidden. The word curls around your tongue, wraps around your thoughts like smoke. Forbidden. It settles in your chest, in your belly, in your hands that clench your bedding at night. Forbidden. It’s forbidden.

Your numb lips press together as you hurry through the dark. Far too cold a night to be out. Far greater dangers than vampires roamed the streets of Theria. You pull your cloak tighter around yourself, and don't stop. No, nothing will stop you now.

Forbidden. That made you want it all the more.

You’d recognized it from all the books you’d read. A few twists in the streets, a hidden door left open - like fate, like destiny, the darker world revealed itself to you. There was no denying what you’d found. The statues, the scuffed floor, the dust that danced in the moonlight. An altar without cloth or candles standing before a portrait of the Goddess. Not the Goddess reborn, black winged, sword in hand. Not the Goddess as Champion on her dragonic steed. Corpus Daea, the Goddess in death, still chained in her flower-filled grave. At her side, five figures hover, and even though their images, too, are taboo, you know them. You know where you are.

You’re stupid to go back. But the pull is too strong, like the scent of meat to a starving dog. You can’t resist the need inside you. You have to go back. You have to.

In the darkness, the click of your boots echo. Your breath traces up into the half-hidden sky. The door is near, the door is here, it opens without a squeal at your touch.

The church is unchanged. A ceiling that stretches up into the dark. Cracked and damaged statues of winged strangers, precious artifacts salvaged from another time, their white exterior stained red. Holy metal dangles from ribbon, clicks and sings and brushes together - Lockets, you understand now, each containing a soul. It’s like looking into a mirror of another time.

Into the forbidden sanctuary, you press on. And it is the same as you remember from the day before.

But no, it’s not.

Those footsteps are not yours.

The darkness shifts, a candle flickers to a golden glow. A man stands before the altar, his robes streamlined and smooth black. His hidden eyes turn away from the book in his hands. Hidden eyes, red eyes, burning beneath the dark mask and silk veil that drapes from it.

Your mouth goes dry. Inside you, something collapses into boneless relief.

The vampire speaks.

“So the stray returns,” he says. “The lamb lost from the flock seeks sanctuary among wolves.”

His fingers run down the inside of the book, tracing the path of the letters within the holy text. You do not look away from those smooth pale hands, gloveless hands, as they close the book. No dust flares up as the man sets the book on the stone altar. Someone cleansed it in the brief time between the last visit and now.

“You knew?” you whisper.

“We all knew,” he says.

With a shrug, a shift of his arms, the robe of fallen stars pushes off his shoulders. You suck in a breath. Beneath it, dark, starched clothes, deep purple vest. The hideous mockery of the Goddess’ emblem, with her and her children, rests over where his heart lays. He grips the dark left sleeve of his shirt. Rolls the fabric, once and twice and thrice. The forearms revealed are strong, and all but stripped of the color that should have been in their veins.

“Are you afraid?” He raises his hand to his head, brushes a strand of blond hair away from the mask. The veil shifts, a smile below it catches your focus now.

You cannot speak. You nod your head.

“Strays…” the man, the priest, says. The sleeve of his other arm is rolled up now, when did he do that? “You are certainly a pleasure to work with, compared to the ferals I have known.”

“W-What?” Your words are shaking, breathless.

“Should I not be the one asking that question?” He steps towards you. You hear no footsteps now. “An undomesticated human, wild and pure, wanders into our most private sanctuary, as if guided by the gods themselves…”

He’s fast. He’s halfway to you already.

“What would ever possess you to do such a thing?”

You stumble back. Slip. It’s not the floor you hit, it's one of the wooden pews you now sit in. The veil shivers, his smile grows.

“Don’t you know who we are?”

A hand grips the pew by your head. Your gaze jerks towards it. Jerks back forward, down, to the legs sinking on either side of your own. He’s taller than you, he’s stronger than you, by far. The powerful body presses against you, and the eyes that watch you hunger.

His finger lifts your chin up, to look into his scarlet eyes. They burn. Your eyes water. No. You can’t listen. You can’t obey. No. No.

You can’t obey.

You obey.

“I was curious,” you whisper.

“Curious?” He repeats, and the low tone sends strange shivers through you. “Curious…”

His finger pulls away. The soft fabric of the veil brushes against your skin.

“So be it,” he says.

You open your eyes and the scream traps in your throat.

You know him.

“No--”

Without the mask, there’s no denying what you’re seeing. The clawmark scars on his face are unmistakable. You’ve seen them in every newspaper, every warning pamphlet. You’ve seen them exaggerated to grotesque delight on the posters for the music hall performances.

He is the Scarred Man, high priest of the clans, and you are worse than dead.

“No--”

“Foolish little lamb.” His breath is cool on your skin. “What did you think the price of curiosity was?”

You cannot move. You cannot breathe. But he can. His lips brush a gentle kiss on your cheeks, and follow the path of your skin. Your fingers dig into the exposed skin of his arms, and he hisses against your flesh.

“No--!”

A pinprick of pain. Your vision hazes over. You hold on shaking, shaking, as your eyelids grow heavy with sleep. With poison. You cannot think. You cannot hold on. As the blood inches down your skin, lapped up by a rough tongue, your body surrenders.

Your eyes close into dreamless sleep.

#runner owen series #vampire fiction #vampcore #reader pov #reader insert #reader x vampire #gothic horror #gothic fantasy #gothic romance #human x vampire #vampire x human #ask to tag #writblr #vampire story #written by coffee

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alackofghosts · 2 months

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