#and also it's much more of a pace breaker to do it in the middle of a level rather than inbetween...

[juney-blues]

i think gamers dismissed the notion of keeping score in non-arcadey titles too easily i think. some games are a lot funner if you try to play them with score in mind

[minteagalaxea]

seelie | jy. uso

jey uso . breakers series

genre: smut (minors dni) . modicum of plot content warnings: public sex . unprotected sex (please use protection) . creampie . afab reader (they/them pronouns) . implied age gap (reader is in their early twenties/college) word count: 1.1k inspiration: jey winning world heavyweight champion . cinderella . jey's new neck tattoo . spring break . me being on spring break . fairies songs: "full house" by mobb (x) . "backstage romance" by moulin rouge! the musical (x) read also: "siren" (x) . "serpent" (x) note: thank you so so much for everyone who has been following along with this little miniseries! wanted to give a big shoutout to @spiicii for literally riding it out with me and keeping me motivated! i've been not in the best headspace, but hopefully this helps! also thank you to @lov3rla03 for the shenans over in the whorehouse for helping me get through this.

maybe this was a mistake.

keyword: maybe.

they weren’t quite like their best friends when it came to matters of romance, who were feral and cerebral, respectively. they loved those two, the perfect contrast to one another.

yet, they were the one who paired off first. all because of a stupid neck tattoo.

they were pretty sure it was done recently, the black ink vibrant underneath the miami sun as the group entered the resort’s dayclub, and it was the first thing they saw. it didn’t matter who was wearing that piece, but they knew that was the thing they were going to chase.

they hadn’t expected him—jey—to welcome their compliments with charm and slip a glass of champagne into their hands and to whisk them away into his cabana like it was a fairytale romance. well, it would have been a fairytale romance if they were the nonbinary version of cinderella, he was a tatted-up prince charming, and the ball was a wild dayclub playing questionable edm during spring break.

so, the real mistake would be, then, that they let him inside of their depths in the middle of the ball. so maybe, this was their version of dancing as he turned them both onto their sides, the weight of his hand heavy on their cunt as he stroked their petals. enough to get them squirming and writhing for his cock amidst the tandem of whatever beat drop was happening and the bodies of everyone else doing the same shit, ostensibly. any direction, and someone was getting railed—in the cabanas, the pool. it was the greatest free for all of the spring break shenanigans they had ever encountered throughout their collegiate career.

yet, there was a charm to it, though they wanted to think it had more to do with the fact that their friends were doing the same damn thing as they were doing. evidently, jey’s twin matched exactly the level of freak as her history major best friend, with how hard he was railing her. they turned to the other side to find that their other friend was engaging in something with his cousin.

his hips were assured as he pressed his forehead against theirs, their right leg hiked up against his thigh to give him better access to their walls as their foreheads touched. “you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” jey groaned against their soft mouth as his hips pistoned in a measured pace. he swallowed those noises as they moved, the rhythm something grounding and mythical.

in between the fervent, heady kisses, they murmured into his mouth, “you’re so good to me, jey. so fucking deep inside.”

they weren’t lying—he touched their depths in unimaginable ways, ways that soothed the aches and pains of their body as he kept his thrusts measured, purposeful, yet voracious. his tongue slipped into their mouth in a sensuous tango, a conversation more than a conquest.

it numbed their mind in all the ways they didn’t realize was liberating. there weren’t any thoughts of school, of integrals and matrices, of whatever stupid drama from their student organizations that left them reeling like maybe they were cinderella, and everything else in life was the wicked stepmother and stepsisters.

the suggestion, then, was when midnight would strike. would they linger? how much of this was meant to be a fairytale? they weren’t sure, and they weren’t sure if they wanted to know just yet as the tip of jey’s cock kissed that perfect spot inside them that erased any doubt, any concerns for the moment ebbing as he continued.

his name spilled from their lips over and over, each thrust rattling everything to their core. their breaths emerged in fervent pants as jey stared at them with a certain sense of awe, of reverence, of addiction. there was no other way for them to describe that feeling as he devoured every sound made with fervor. he groaned when they pressed their lips up against that new neck tattoo, practically licking the ink off of it if they could. that action always pressed their body up into his, their chests melding and jey’s cock so so deep inside that the angle made it even deeper, made it feel so so deep that there was no way they weren’t dreaming.

“baby, you’re like a fucking angel. sent down here just for me.”

“crazy talk,” they mumbled against his lips, body seizing up in a climax as his tip stabbed just right inside of them to propel them to a climax. that sound was airy, a stutter of absolute pleasure as they arched their frame into him, their walls pulsating in harmony to whatever song was playing off the club’s numerous speakers.

“baby, those walls of yours are like some fairy wings or something,” he gritted out as his hips stilled to deposit his load into their sweet, fluttering depths. it was full, it was warm, and that felt more like the stroke of midnight than maybe the end of a long, semi-romantic fuck.

they couldn’t leave—not with how jey held close onto them like a vine. his eyes were heavy with need for them, like they were the blessing he had been praying and searching for. he held them close as the song transitioned, length staying inside as he continued rocking into them, pushing his seed deeper and deeper into them like he wanted a part of him to remain in them.

“my little fairy,” jey mused with awe, as if he was seeing them for the first time beyond what led them into the cabana. their hips rocked into his, their lashes fluttering against his cheeks. their lips remained affixed to his neck, suckling marks on one side and paying reverence and worship to the freshly inked side.

“look at those pretty wings of yours,” he teased, pressing his lips to the side of their eye, brushing close to their lashes. their cheeks warmed at the gesture, snuggling close as their breaths mingled, their mimosa tangling with his bourbon.

“jey,” they breathed. it was the only word they could say as they stayed, long after the proverbial stroke of midnight and the music escalated and so did everyone else. their walls pulsed and beat like the wings of a fae.

“just stay with me, my little angel. stay all week long.” it sounded like a prayer to a creature they definitely weren’t, but cursed their little soft romantic heart and the softness of his eyes. he kissed them over and over, trying to imprint the taste of them on his lips as their tongues conversed again, dancing in candied delight and coquettish deviousness. it was less of that stupid cinderella tale they thought as jey drank them in, hardening once more at those soft contractions of their nether, rocking to have them mewl and preen under the miami sun.

they would stay. fairies loved lost things, after all. and there weren’t conditions like cinderella’s ball when they were the fairy godmother.

taglist ⇢ @yana3sworld . @roseydoesypoesy . @fearlesschimera . @theusotwinzcom . @acute-crashout-jeyuso . @geekinstilettos . @pr0wlerpunk . 

[outerwyrm]

Meet Franc

Perpetually distracted, and only has two states: Moving and Not. If they're moving, they're looking for things, exploring, tapping their foot, pacing, thinking aloud. If Not, they're usually asleep or least dozing. Very easy to go from one state to the other, but impossible to find a middle ground. Lots of their personality and actions is dictated by the fact that they just don't like to use their eyes all that much. Not because they need glasses, but because too much light is annoying or even painful, and is also usually accompanied by Heat, which is also annoying and painful. They tend to overlook things, misread things and have to go over it again, or are just blind to actual physical objects in their location. Quantum rocks had to be pointed out to them, or else they never would have noticed that they were moving around. Instead, they tend to prefer to explore their world through a combination of hearing and touch, along with whatever happens to be going on inside their head at any given time. They're not actually much of a musician themselves, but always listening to something or other, usually directly from the other Travelers. Their suit has even been altered in order to add nice headphones to the helmet. If they're not listening to music, they're thinking about it, constantly putting everything they're doing to a mental soundtrack. The music in the game is diegetic to them, especially the End Times, (though it only started showing up after a few loops when they started to pick up on subtle cues that things were about to come to an end. Interestingly, they started making that mental connection before they even realized that the thing causing the end of the loop was the sun going supernova.)

Otherwise, things don't often feel real to them unless they've grabbed it in some way. Objects, rocks, people, scrolls, they like to be close and personal with whatever they're inspecting. They discovered quantum entanglement by accident this way, turning off their lights to feel and hear the Cave Shard on Ember Twin. They also very nearly prematurely ended their adventure by pulling the Advanced Warp Core out of the project in order to get a better look at it, and only their internal warning bells ('didn't the text back there say something about this?' manifesting as the Final Voyage sountrack) got them to remember to put it back in time. Best friends with Hal, Franc took on the role of explorer and Breaker Of Stuff when they started trying to translate the Nomai language. Franc has a hard time thinking and speaking at the same time, which means they are either quiet or simply talking in a nonstop train of thought. Hal thankfully takes up a lot of the burden of talking through ideas and holding that mental space between them, which is why they click together so well and managed to put together a whole translator tool. Time Buddies with Gabbro, very much the kind of friends to sit and cuddle and say nothing together for long periods of time, though Gabbro is also very good at listening when Franc has something to say. Glad that they're in the loop together, because they might have burned themselves out otherwise. Not 'dating' anyone, but they are physically intimate with both Hal and Gabbro, more often with Gabbro. As a hugger and a cuddler, they prefer to be squished in some way when going to sleep, whether that's with another Hearthian laying half-over them or simply a large and heavy blanket. They're still stuck in the loop, and are currently determined to find another way out, for them and everyone they care about. Most of my headcanons and ideas about them will be set after they've filled out the entire ship log, but before going to look for the Eye.

[sburbian-mechanics]

I would like to hear more about the post-game and/or optional content!

Omg! This is one of my favorite topics to discuss- not a lot of people do it first game, but I did, so I think there should be a lot more comprehensible info out there! I mean have you seen the info on the Shadows of Home? There’s practically nothing! And speedrunners don’t really do it, and it’s hard to code break, so most Game Breakers don’t focus that much on it. Which is a real shame, because they’re really interesting! Maybe it’s the emotional difficulty? It is pretty brutal. Fighting a powerful boss is one thing, but facing difficult traumas is another. Still. More info needs to be shared, and it is up to me to provide!

Although I will warn you, there’s not much research done on it, so that does mean this is mostly personal experience and speculation. It could vary a lot, but I just don’t know. If you have ever done the post-game or optional content, feel free to tell me your story so I can build up a database on it!

ANYWAYS. Let's get to the actual meat of the question. What is the Optional Content? Also known as the Post-Denizen Quests, these are large quests that not all players get the opportunity to play. This is theorized to be because they were made as a sort of synchronizing measure- people who went through personal growth faster than their co-players needed something to do before the Reckoning came, so these quests only really become available to players that have a large difference between their quest completion time. If everyone goes at a similar pace, the Reckoning comes right on schedule and these quests never become available. So, what are they, and what makes them so emotionally difficult?

TERRAFORMING - The first phase of the Optional Content. Pretty easy actually, not that bad. It sees you become the new defacto ruler of your planet, as you learn to run it and help repair the damage done by your denizen. Sort of a breather episode, and helps prepare you for becoming a god later down the line. Not emotionally difficult at all, but managing things can be hard. You can actually find resources on this one! And the process of customizing your planet is really fun. Think of it like becoming the server player of your whole planet! and learning some god skills along the way. Fun!

DESCEND: This is where we run into some trouble. Eventually, you will find that some parts of your planet...aren't quite right. The air feels static-y, and everything is unaturally still. Even when people should be there it is completely empty, and you can't help but feel that something is Off. Like everything was shifted to the left when you weren't looking. Like the colors aren't right, even though you don't know what the right colors would even be. This is the start of the Quest, and as you run around managing your planet, you will discover more and more of these strange spots. Eventually, new monsters will start spawning there, and It's up to you to find the source of this madness. You'll start by diving down into the cave of your planet, going deeper and deeper, discovering more challenges and some creepy dungeons that haven't been touched in a thousand years. After fighting through all that, discovering creepy lore and making personal discoveries, you find yourself in the deepest part of your Planet. You go through the door and find...

THE SHADOWS OF HOME: A grey plain. Grass and light, but no sun. It wraps around itself, covering the inside of a small sphere, where you stick to the sides despite the fact that gravity should be pulling you to the middle. At first, the plain seems absolutely featureless. But as you walk more through the strangely silent place, you start to see shadows out of the corner of your vision. They aren't real though. Right? There are rocks sometimes, but no flowers. The fog is everpresent. But sometimes...a swingset. A faded plush toy. They seem so familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. It's so quiet. You start to realize something about the objects though. They're yours aren't they? The things you forgot. Every plushie you loved and then locked away, every event you haven't bothered to remember... sometimes, you see something that you wished you didn't. It reminds you. All the things you repressed, every memory you didn't want to confront...they are all here. Right here. You can turn back if you want. There is nothing attacking you here. But I have a feeling that if you do, you will never find this place again. If your planet is a representation of You, then this must be your unconscious. And if you get too scared, you'll repress this place away forever. So you keep walking. And thinking. And remembering all the terror you forgot. Eventually you will find a house. It's yours. An exact copy of the one up above. The door is unlocked. You turn the doorknob and...

THE NIGHTMARE HEIR: SBURB loves its doppelgangers. Although they never seem to quite be a part of the game progression, there is a reason there is a whole section dedicated to them on the SBURB Help Center. So strangely common...I wonder if it's because most people can't make it to this section. So SBURB tries to shove one in there anyways. When you walk into your house, you will know it's not Yours. It's dusty, grey, and still so slightly Off. Uncanny, I think that's the word. You can't remember if that door was supposed to be there, or if that picture is in the right frame. Was that what your mother looked like? You can't remember. However, the real danger isn't the house. Well, that might be a tad wrong. I have a feeling that the Heir is The House. Like this plain is The House. What if the haunting and the house are one and the same? Was the hallway quite that long? After searching around, you will discover some oddities. But the real reason you're here lies in Its Bedroom. Your Bedroom. The one (two?) who lives here. When you open the door, it's/you're sitting on its/your bed. It/you looks like a shadow. Not a reflection, but something different. All the worst? Most hated? Reppressed? parts of yourself. It's/you're smiling. And then you/it start/s to speak.

You will fight. You will throw the first punch, or maybe run away. You/it will follow. You can't escape you/it. You/it copy/s you, what you do. There is no beating you/it. Perfectly matched. But you will try because you/it scare/s you. The House will twist and warp around you(s) and everything will change. What is up? Down? You are too scared to notice. You/it keeps talking. You don't want to hear it. No matter how much you fight, you/it Won't. Stop. It will be the hardest fight of your life. You will sweat and bleed and cry. You don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear your/it's words. Maybe it's something good. Something bad. Something you want, or fear, or know, or whatever- but you don't want to hear it. You are too afraid. Afraid of what you already know, or think you know. You will have to confront you/it somehow. It will be the hardest thing you have ever done. Maybe it's refuting its negative words for some people. Admit you have those thoughts for others. Recognize what it is at all, or that you have that potential. I wondered how many people died here. I don't think they could ever be revived. But eventually, you will realize something. You seem unhappy. Not as malicious as before. You were so busy being scared, that you never even got a good look at yourself. Maybe you were never smiling at all? As you confront yourself, you will realize how untrue some of your words are. All the lies we all have. It hurts to keep all locked up inside. You are hurting now, you can see it. Now that you're here, that you're calmer, you can see how you limp. How lonely you must have been, in that house all alone. You're not a monster. Maybe you've done some monstrous things, but that's not all you are. You're looking at yourself, and despite all the shadows, all the hatred and doubt and guilt and fear. When you look at yourself all you can see is a scared kid.

You're just a kid.

ACCEPTANCE: Your final challenge is the easiest of them all. After all the blood sweat and tears, all you have to do is hug yourself. To hug that little kid that still lives inside you. When you do, the shadows will fade away, and you will finally see your own reflection. You'll smile for a moment, and then absorb that part of yourself again. Color will return to the plain and your planet, and when you walk out of your house, you'll find yourself back on top of the planet, walking out of the house up on top. Skaia is shining. It's a good day.

Rewards for the Quest are few. There is a reason not many do it. Sure you will get some cool grist from the shadow monsters in the caverns, and maybe a cool item in the dungeon here or there, but for the most part the rewards aren't physical. The caverns are where you will first learn about Possilapse/Ultimate Self, and absorbing your Shadow is the first step in acheiving that state healthily. Your Classpect powers will get a significant upgrade, and ocasionally you will notice a certain afterimage helping you out. However, the biggest upgrade you will get is that surety. That peace of mind. For the first couple minutes after completing the quest, you will feel the most at peace you have ever been. Your confidence will get a major boost, and you will find that helps a lot in everything you do. Of course, you won't stay in this state forever. You'll forget, sometimes, how you refuted your words. Fall into bad habits, or doubt and repress again. There will be no more magical SBURB quest to show you how to crawl your way out of that hole anymore, but you will have that memory. And if you did it once, you can do it again. It's up to you now to maintain that peace, and you won't always succeed. But you will remember, and know that it's possible. And sometimes, that's all the motivation you need.

----------<I>----------

I completely forgot about the post-game...........oh well. It's mostly just leveling up your God Teir badges, and getting the hang of becoming a real live God. You know, getting favored animals and shapeshifting and stuff. Running your own planet is basically the post-game anyways! Yeah. GG out!

[tottymatsuno]

So the totty jehov*hs witn*ess au is based on my personal childhood in Texas, where my family was originally apart of the church, but we were shunned later on.

I have a few AUs set in texas specifically even though itd make more sense if they were in IL, or Cali. Its just im deeply attached to my hometown.

Anyways in this AU, Todomatsu is a convert and literally the only jehov*hs witness in his family. The cult gets him bc it reaffirms the stuff he didn't want to do, or couldnt do as evil (going to college, working to get a higher paying job, losing his virginity) and aligns with canon todo misogyny and homophobia, (he does not respect women in the show very much, and in the anime hes constantly lowkey homophobic despite being so gay)

So the idea that he was NATURALLY doing everything right by not being interested in politics, higher education, holidays that make him feel bad or obligated to be selfless (romance/gift giving ones), and this really romantic idea that his virginity is for his future wife - plus there's a set of defined rules he has to follow. While Todomatsu def presents himself as someone flexible he's shown multiple times that he really, really isn't. At all. So the rules would bring him a lot of comfort.

Anyways he's literally the only one in his family like this, and he thinks it's fine because for the most part he already dresses like that, and its just world affirmative for someone with a major stick up his butt. He would thrive. However he'd hate having to go up to houses and knock on doors, and he wouldn't be very interested in rising in the ranks of the church bc he's seen the women he'd have access to, and decided its not worth it.

Anyways i think he'd really enjoy believing the world was going to end, and that he was special because he was going to be saved. I also think he'd create an imaginary friend out of their God, because JW's god is very kind, loving, forgiving - so in Todomatsu's head as long as he apologizes and explains it, anything he does is fine bc Jehovah loves him so so so much and understands. He's Todomatsu's accommodating imaginary friend 😭

And Todomatsu's able to justify not meeting the church's standards simply bc he prayed about it.

The au itself is funny though, his brothers esp suuji try to convince him to leave the cult but Todomatsu's not budging, oso was gonna join but all the rules pissed him off bc they're not allowed to have any fun, i think he manages to peer pressure karamatsu who runs away in the middle of kingdom hall, and he DOES have several Bible study sessions with choro, who eventually, and almost uncharacteristically sweet tells him, "This isn't really for me," which makes Todomatsu mad bc if anyone should get it, itd be Choromatsu! But Choro doesn't want to stop masturbating that's a deal breaker, and while he and totty would share similarly homophobic + misogynist ideals, Choromatsu doesn't really jive w the idea that others should be excluded for things they can't change. Choro would take several issues with it all, but to Todoma they'd be very petty and if his brother JUST listened but it doesn't work. He also tries to get his parents but they say not interested.

So in the au I'm an incubus, but like always my trans identity is hidden until i deem it safe to out myself. Todo comes over to do a bible study but thru shenanigans starts future faking bc he's attracted to me and wants to get married (specifically to have sex 😭😭😭) and since I'd feed off his energy i'd be delighted!

But we hang out more, and do the Bible studies, and despite being a demon i'd fall very genuinely in love with him bc he's my babygirl forever, there's no way i wouldn't be in love with him after a day or two. And he loves me back. Of course. But he falls for me at a normal, gradual pace, tho that lust is there from day one.

It's a slow burn so my notes say despite all the sex teases, itll be at least 20 more chapters than i currently have written before the sex actually happens. The timeframe of it all would be a lot shorter than the chapters imply, like I'd fuck him very early in, probably 2-3 weeks after meeting him.

Anyways think for the most part despite being a demon, id be pressured into converting including the baptism and attending w him. Theres more funny elements though bc itd be apparent that since I'm his "gf" he converted that theres sexual tension between us, he'd be told we need a chaperone to go on dates and shit, which he would definitely do at his big over 30s age. Theres a lot of comedy potential in this au.

Anyways the whole conversion arc hes bribing me w sex and im just like "okay whatver even tho u could bribe me with love and kisses and devotion idc its not a big deal (CARES SO MUCH)" and i convert. I like to think the idea of being exposed to more holy energy (not to say that JWs are right, theyre not, but this would happen in any vicinity of worship) that id eventually get weaker. There'd also be something very wrong w Todomatsu and his energy, bc while at first id try to avoid actively eating him for love purposes, eventually id really be starving and would try to eat his life force. Just a couple bites. And itd work but instead of his energy being drained, he feels more energetic. Itd get to the point where id be fucking him within an inch of his life, and he'd get up, stretch, and 10 seconds later would be perfectly fine, all his life force rejuvenated. Id be scared of him and ask what's wrong with him, but i also wouldn't question it too much bc YAY free energy. Except to eat a human, especially an awake humans energy is like having a really balanced, and delicious three coursed meal. Its super nutritious. But eating Todomatsu's energy is just like drinking expresso on an empty stomach. Since I'm not eating anyone else i eventually start to wither and die

But i don't wanna die, my boyfriend is cute and gave me a promise ring despite fuckin on him for months, and i love him bc he's so so silly and cute! So eventually i just eat someone else. I'd try their energy for a while but ive been starving so long that i need their body too. So id fuck them, but thats not enough. Id need to eat their body and soul. And todo would show up right when I'm doing it lol

There's more to this au but he just leaves, fakes a head injury, pretends he has amnesia, leaves the church and acts like that never happened. He doesnt even call the police bc he still love me too much. We get back together tho abd everything ends happily ever after but theres so much potential for comedy in this au. Its so funny to me. Its not even the scary au where i eat him

[teenageread]

Review: Elatsoe

Initial Thoughts: 

Trigger Warning: Racism

The plot was intriguing, but the world Darcie Badger created for Ellie was strange and difficult to follow. I was on board with the magic in middle America, especially Ellie’s ability to communicate with ghosts and bring them back into the living world. That part I enjoyed. However, when vampires were introduced early on, the story lost me. I felt like there was another book in the series that I had missed (but wasn’t), because I couldn’t quite make sense of it. While Badger attempts to explain things through Ellie or other characters, I found myself lost, unable to understand the world she was building. The book is clearly aimed at young adults, possibly even middle grade, but I constantly felt confused and frustrated by things Ellie seemed to know instinctively. The only reason I finished the novel was because I was invested in figuring out how Ellie’s cousin, Trevor, died and why he believed their town's superstar doctor, Abe, was responsible. That plotline was compelling, and I honestly think Badger could’ve told that story without the supernatural elements. If she still wanted to keep some magic or spirituality, I’d have preferred it to be focused solely on Ellie’s family—without the vampires. The supernatural elements were what ultimately pulled me out of the story.

Characters: 

The characters weren’t bad, but none of them stood out enough to make me want to keep reading. Ellie’s parents are supportive but conventional, showing typical parental concern for her safety while encouraging her dreams. Her aunt, grieving the loss of her husband, is emotionally present but doesn’t do anything memorable in her grief. As for Ellie, the narrator, she was reliable and somewhat relatable, but she didn’t have any qualities that made her particularly special. I did appreciate how Ellie’s asexuality was woven into the story without it being the focal point. It was simply a characteristic of who she was, which felt authentic. The same could be said for her Lipan Apache heritage—it was a key part of her identity, but it wasn’t the story’s main focus. That said, the themes of racism Ellie faced because of her Indigenous background could have been explored more deeply. Badger touched on these elements briefly but didn’t delve into them as much as I would have liked. The novel had the potential to be emotionally impactful, especially with the tragedy surrounding Ellie’s family, but the characters’ emotional depth felt underdeveloped.

Plot / Writing: 

The novel’s two main plotlines—Badger’s magical world-building and the mystery of Trevor’s death—never quite meshed. The world-building, in particular, felt clumsy. The introduction of vampires was too much, and I felt the need for clearer explanations. The Lipan Apache elements of the story, however, were great. The stories about Ellie’s ancestors were rich in cultural wisdom, and the respect Ellie showed for her relatives added depth to the narrative. The way racism was subtly incorporated into the story was also well-done—though not overtly labeled as such, the discrimination Ellie faced was clear in how others treated her, like being asked for proof of purchase or receiving long, suspicious looks in stores. This aspect of the novel was a strong point and one I appreciated.

The mystery surrounding Trevor’s death was also engaging, and while the pacing of the novel felt uneven at times, Badger provided a reasonable explanation that fit the world she had created. Overall, the writing was accessible, but the pacing and the world-building made it hard to fully invest in the story.

Conclusion: 

For middle-grade readers who can look past the confusing and under-explained world Badger built, this novel could be a decent read. However, from my perspective, the vampire element was a deal-breaker, and I found myself more frustrated than intrigued throughout the story. I’m not angry that I read it, but I’m disappointed because I had high hopes after seeing the cover art. In the end, I felt more confused than engaged, and the story didn’t live up to its potential.

[trannydykepuppybot]

To everyone asking how I did it, based on my playthrough and information I've seen regarding how the game calculates which ending you get, here are my recommendations:

Get hit a lot. Miss a lot of healing items because they're surrounded by enemies you'd rather just run past. Go into rooms with a full inventory, miss nonessential items, and then forget about them. Never combine healing items. Tank damage and save over all mistakes. Make every hit a near-death experience.

Die. Somehow not die despite being constantly an inch from death until a stupid mistake in the mines. Die a bunch in Nowhere because of the fucking Mynah straight into a Kolibri. Also that one microfilament maze that's full of Eules and Arars. Fuck Nowhere.

Kill. Clear all rooms early on because you've never played a survival horror game before. Overcorrect and stop killing anything for a bit. Get pissed the fuck off in Nowhere because you're tired and stuck and that one microfilament maze is overpopulated and so is the Mynah room that leads straight into a Kolibri and start murdering bitches that you honestly don't even need to left and right until you get through Nowhere and calm down. Fuck Nowhere.

Waste ammo. Don't realize how aiming works until the last stage. Be frustrated at yourself. It's fine. You still have too much ammo. Except shotgun shells. Unfortunate. You love shotguns.

Take a long time. Possibly too long. Leave the game running while you piss. Linger on cutscenes and puzzles. Take forever on the circuit breaker. Take a break and try to solve it on paper while at work. Exhaust every single possible combination. Open the game up at work. Realize you misunderstood how the multiplicatives work. Solve it fairly quickly via trial and error with no need for paper. It's alright. You're still proud of yourself. Get scared at the first beach segment and leave the game open until you can get someone to be there with you over Discord voice call for moral support. It's the middle of the day. Some people have day jobs. Others have scheduled TTRPG sessions. Do the section on your own. It wasn't that scary. Do this several more times. Get stuck and wander around a lot until you get fed up and check a guide. Do this several more times. Get stuck for far longer than normal in Nowhere. Realize that you missed an accessible room hidden behind a Storch and the deepest of shadows. Kill the Storch out of pure spite. Realize that this has granted you access to the most annoying and difficult rooms in the game. Fail. Die. Fail. Die. Go slowly. Fail. Die. Go quickly. Fail. Die. Go at a moderate but murderous, rage-fueled pace. Fail. Die. Try again. Succeed. Save immediately. Scream. Screaming is extremely cathartic. Fuck Nowhere.

Falke isn't actually that bad. Spend more time then you need in the areas before the fight. Spend way too long on your first try stuck on the first stage because you don't know what you're doing. Realize your error. Realize that steadying your aim improves the fight a lot. Save healing items until you need them. Get hit often. Spend healing items as soon as you pick them up. Shotgun adds with the single shotgun ammo pickup you noticed on your first attempt. This works to great effect. Use as much ammo as you like. Revolver pickups carry you through the fight. Enter the fight with an initial eighteen revolver bullets. Use all of them and then some. In short, incorporate all previous bulletpoints.

Fuck Nowhere.

Guess who just finished Signalis?! I got Promise as my ending.

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

READ NEXT PART

[edisongf]

spring breakers (matt murdock x f!reader)

matt murdock x f!reader one-shot/drabble

a/n: matt’s been getting sm love lately i couldn’t resist, enjoy baefys!! (also, canon plot is slightly diff made up to fit the story)

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of drug-use

summary: matt spends a day in los angeles, taking a rather rare off from the mental cage he raps against in new york. but in the smog, scalding heat, and sea of obnoxious santa monica spring-breakers, he meets eyes with someone who might just make this western hellhole worth it.

~

loud.

that was the first thing matt noticed. so was new york, and his heightened hearing didn’t help, but this sun-cast nightmare was so much worse.

the crashing waves of the santa monica beach seemed to amplify the voices of the falsely tanned twenty-somethings high on god knows what at 2pm, and it took all his strength to not pull out his black suit for the gold-toothed cotton-candy vendors screaming in his ear. 

he could have gone anywhere, god it was a miracle he went at all.

it wasn’t easy to pry away matt from the city he protected with his soul, but as fisk closed in, it took two S.H.I.E.L.D. squads to tear the devil out and into hiding. 

it’s not even that he intended to go out, matt was perfectly comfortable waiting the week out with his head in his hands (and thinking of ways to dismember his foe) in the barren space of his hotel.

however, as much as he hated it, matt’s a gentle soul. without foggy or karen by his side, he began to get anxious, standing by the phone and praying for an agent’s call.

and yet, he was here, with a pink, quickly toasting nose, and a more than modest outfit... in ninty five degree weather. 

he groaned, ignoring the way the irritating sand got into his embarrassingly sandled feet.

tightly gripping the base of his red cane, he hurried down the beach, ready to wave in an uber back to the abyss of a hotel he’d call a home for a few more days.

“little overdressed aren’t we?”

matt froze, cocking his head as he processed the sickly sarcastic voice to his left.

she was lying down on a beach towel, heartbeat slowed and relaxed, the sweet smell of a margarita coming off her lips.

“you can hear me can’t you? or are you trying to guess if i’m attractive enough to warrant a conversation with from my voice.”

matt smirked, turning to acknowledge the bold voice as he stood at the foot of her poppy pink towel.

“oh believe me, i know a beautiful voice when i hear it. though, i didn’t think a sunburnt nose and unpopped collar was much to notice in this densely populated colony of…” matt crinkled his nose, honing on the thumping footsteps of a bleach blonded jock chasing a dirty volleyball 20 paces behind him, “… eligible bachelors.”

she lifted her tortoise shell sunglasses, ignoring the chaos behind the handsome man and instead squinting at his intrigued face.

“oh i promise, red suits you. but this?” she gestured to the pitch black shirt and jeans he adorned, “this, is not something the socal sun takes too kindly towards.”

feigning hurt, matt clutched a hand to his chest, mouthing an ooh.

“are you trying to get me to take my shirt off? and here i thought you wanted to get to know me on this drunken, party-fueled beach.”

she shook her head, sitting up and gesturing for matt to sit at the newly opened space. “keep the shirt, or lose it. either die of heat stroke, or by sunburn, whichever way your gorgeous face will still be intact.”

“you’re a bold woman.”

“got to be.”

“let me guess. yet another wasted grad student looking for a good time to make your mid-march a little less mid-termy and little more … boozey?”

the girl shook her head, looking across the wide expanse of santa monica.

“and you call me bold? tell me, what’s a middle-aged dude in a borderline nun outfit doing all by his lonesome at a beach he obviously doesn’t want to be at?”

matt paused, his heart lurching. a couple simple excuses darted through his mind, but in classic murdock fashion, he opted to dodge it.

“well who knows, maybe i’m just as dedicated in my search for a good time,” he waved a hand to his lower half, “look, i’ve got my party sandals on and everything.”

“is that so? you look at these people like they’re the dirtiest trailer trash you’ve ever seen, but yet, you’re right in a way. they’re looking for something, anything, to feel joy for once. some gratification and liveliness to kill the stagnation of school, work, family, whatever the hell life has slapped them with. is that so bad?”

matt leaned forward, intent on her words. she didn’t meet his gaze, instead turning to her cooler and pulling out another mini margarita. she paused, giving matt a brief glance, before reaching in for another.

“i think you’re looking for something too, maybe you’ll find it if you stop being too proud to admit it.”

she didn’t hold it out to him, instead setting it in the space of the towel between them. no pressure, no force, an offering from one spring-breaker to another.

matt slowly took it in his hand, bringing the rim to his mouth. if he was looking for something, he was far as hell from knowing what it was. but for this moment, maybe this sunkissed someone could help him find it.

[just-more-trolls]

odd numbers for aether? just the first half of em though :]

You saved my fingies bless you TuT

IT'S STILL A LONG LIST THO >:V

1. Biggest pet peeves? How much do they annoy you? Are they bad enough to be a deal breaker if someone you were interested did them? He can't stand over-clinginess. Like it's only a dealbreaker with those he's interested in if they're non-stop blowing up his phone wanting to be attached to his hips 24/7 because if they're not breathing the same air they'd die...he's had personal experience with flings :')

Also open-mouth chewing.

3. What are your turn on’s turn off’s?

Turn ons: Gentle physical touches, showing genuine interest in him beyond just his physical traits, soft n sweet pillowtalk(flushed), almost combative/bratty pillowtalk(Pitch..he's v dominating in bed and likes the challenge of trying to knock his pitch into submission :>), and compassion! ....Also food

Turn offs: Overt-clinginess, being an asshole IN HIS CLUB!, thinking you can play him for a fool, having a hemoist attitude, uh..there's prolly more but I suck at turn ons and turn offs lmao

5. What if your least favorite and favorite parts of your body? Any feature you pride yourself on? Then least favorite would you change it if you could?

Aether's fav parts: His broad, dorito-shaped chest and his long Eggman legs.

He prides himself with his luxurious locks :>

His least fav that he'd prolly change?: He honestly doesn't find himself v attractive in the face. He'd change it if he could but it's just a matter of someone he cares about affirming that yes, he is handsum uwu

7. What is your least favorite food and why?

Beans.......because they're BEANS!

9. What are any tics you might have? Any nervous habits?

Aether bounces his leg or clicks a pen when he's mildly anxious. He paces when he's moderately anxious and when he's out of control of a situation completely his thumbs suffer from him picking the skin raw or until' it bleeds.

11. What is your earliest memory? Is it a happy or a sad one.

His earliest memory was losing his lusus to the local clown mafia. He ended up caught in the middle of a turf war and was accused of being part of a warring faction. It’s a hella sad memory but also what pushed him to get in “the business” and rise through the ranks.

[hitogatarock]

takt op. illustration novel # 9

Belkis : "A Suitable Person for Me"

a special short novel entry for the game takt op. Destiny by the City of Crimson Melody by Ishihara Sora ( 石原宙 ).

illustrator : Inooka ( イノオカ )

All translations are belongs to me, make sure to credit properly if you plans on sharing this! Enjoy reading!

Link source • twitter post

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character appearance in order + color code : Belkis , Daphnis et Chloé

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I brushed off the military curtain of the command tent with my hand irritably and walked down the path to the Musicarts-only barracks, my footsteps higher than usual.

"Huh..... How dare he preach to a person like me. Does that man think he's some kind of a god?"

This is Innsbruck, Austria. It is an ancient city in the Tyrol region, close to the Italian border. We of the First Expedition are stationed in the mountainous area of the Nordkette mountain range, a short distance from the city. Just a few moments ago, I was summoned by the local commander and was given a personal word of advice.

The reason, I was told, was that the Conductor who had been my buddy had fallen ill from exhaustion and had to leave the unit. They were so mentally and physically ill from my day-and-night "education" that they couldn't sleep at night, and fell like a dead tree.

I have only educated them on how to behave in a manner befitting my Conductor, from every of their move to the raising and lowering of a fork.

— Hiiiii!! Don't let them near me again!

— They're a freaking lunatic!

— Belkis is a personality breaker!

They was shouting that at the end of the day. What do they meant personality breaker? There is no one with a more perfect personality than me. Even the local commander, who just now twisted his normally stern facade into a bitter smile and said, "Can you please stop with crushing your favourite Conductor?"

What sort of an intuition is it to crush Conductors? It's the wrong thing to do. How many times have I told that I am only trying to educate them? There is certainly no shortage of Conductors.

Rather, I am very aware that the number is limited. But they're so shallow and foolish that they don't realise how much of a positive impact my education has had on this corps. I would like to take this opportunity to personally present my education——

— If you're a commander-in-chief and want to make a statement to the people, why don't you think a little more?

— You should also pay attention to your appearance. The head of the corps should not be seen with stubble.

— And there are six more points to point out..... mggh! mgghggh?!

Two strong aides blocked my mouth and strangled me with their wings. What a surprise. I was in the middle of a conversation when they pushed me back and kicked me out of the command tent.

"What an outrageously rude thing to do!"

Stomping on the ground with a brisk pace, the footsteps become even more high-pitched. Why don't you all understand? I have been fighting so hard to make this corps a better place, and yet I am a lone soldier!

Then, in the direction of travel, I saw a dozen soldiers on a break, chatting and eating a meal of rations. Just the right opportunity. Let's see if my "education" has paid off, shall we?

"Pardon, entertain me?"

I gracefully walk past the resting soldiers with my arms outstretched. The soldiers then hand me food one after another. By the time I pass between them, my hands are full of colourful sweets and fruit.

"Fufu, thank you. My lovely students?"

I turn around and smile with satisfaction. Just look at it. This is "education". Now I don't have to queue for rationing. My proud students will avoid them and save only the precious quality ones for me. What I don't eat, I can share with another soldier. Then more and more of my followers will follow me.

"What a well organised team. You all learn so well."

I clear my throat, and from somewhere I heard a feeble voice.

"Oh, um... Isn't that just raising people who are convenient for you, Miss Belkis?"

"......Daphnis et Chloé."

Daphnis et Chloé. She is a Musicart who inhabits the score, which is a ballet music composed by Maurice Ravel. Because of her complicated name, it's often abbreviated to "Daphnis". She was staring at me from diagonally to the right and back, chewing on a ration. I sigh in return.

"Take a good look. They are all paying tribute to me, and they all look satisfied."

"Well, it seems to me that more might ran away as soon as they saw you....."

"......."

Sure, there were a few ordinary soldiers who ran away like rabbits, but who cares? Those without the will to learn are those without the will to live. I cannot devote my precious time to such people.

"Daphnis et Chloé? In other words, what are you trying to say?"

"N-Nothing....."

When I narrow my eyes at her, she immediately becomes amusedly silent. If she was going to be silent, she shouldn't have said anything in the first place. They are all so incomprehensible, it's disgusting.

"Had you have enough? If I behave in a way that is appropriate for me, then I am behaving in a way that is appropriate for the world."

That's how you create soldiers and Conductors who are second to none. I, too, will fight with all my might to protect those who are worthy of me. In other words, the more people who are worthy of me, the closer I am to an invincible force that will always win. Why can't they understand this simple fact?

I shake my head languidly and take a bite of the almond cookie I've been given. It doesn't taste very good. This is wartime. The cookies, with little butter used, made my mouth terribly thirsty.

"Tea."

"Y-Yes."

When I hold out one hand, Daphnis et Chloé rush to pour me tea from the canteen. As she holds out the mug of tea to me, she says again,

"Um..... if you keep doing this, you'll be alone one day.....?"

She is surely referring to the mediocre soldier who ran away earlier. Or the Conductor who left me. I pause for a moment and reply matter-of-factly.

"There's another one."

Daphnis bit her lip loosely and stared at my face as I said this. I continue without hesitation.

"But that's okay. It's what I wanted. It's a lot better than the pain of being with someone who doesn't deserve me."

"Compared to the pain of losing... right....?"

As she said this, her eyes took on a color of sorrow rather than fright. I wonder what it is? She's being strangely insistent today.

"What do you mean by that?"

"N-Nothing.... I've finished my meal so I will leave."

Daphnis et Chloé turned her back on me and ran off.

".....What on earth."

Don't say things like you understand it. I just want someone strong, someone who is worthy of me, someone who knows how to be polite and decent, someone who is witty and "will never die". Even if I can't protect them. But someone strong enough to survive.

Speaking of which, I hear that tomorrow new Musicarts and Conductors will arrive from Berlin. I'm not expecting anything. It's not easy to find a suitable conductor for me. But if I actually found one. Then I'm sure I'll wear it like an accessory and never let them go.

I take another bite of the almond cookie. After two or three bites, my mouth is soon become dry. I looked around and saw that the soldiers who were taking a break had already dispersed and no one was in sight. Unknowingly, a cough escaped from me.

"Can someone get me a cup of tea for.... me?"

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— translator's note: this week we have belkis! turns out she's quite the bossy-princessy or should I say himedere-ish😅 also daphnis et chloé finally makes her appearance! I'm not sure how should I translate her nickname ダフクロ (dafukuro / daphchlo) so I stick to "Daphnis" at the time being. I hope you enjoy as always!

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[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 1/6)

After about a century of me being gone and not writing a new story, I am back with a mini-series! 💙

I didn't have a good idea for a new OC so I decided to write a cute and fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

I would like to thank @am-i-space @madelineorionswan & @the-al-chemist for giving me ideas for the names of the dragons mentioned in the story. You are the best 💙 Since some of the dragons are mentioned in the later chapters I will make sure to include which dragons you named in the Masterlist for the story 💙

If you'd like to be tagged in every part the dragon with your name is mentioned please tell me and I will gladly do so 🤗

Warnings: Charlie being excited and obsessed with dragons.

Word count: 2,869

A dragon's roar awakened me. It might sound terrifying to some, but it is a pure melody for my ears. I have been working in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary for almost 10 years now. Come to think of it tomorrow's the anniversary.

My co-workers constantly tease me, telling me that I'm a workaholic. I always disagree with them. I just love dragons and working with them. Am I a bit obsessed with the creatures? Maybe. But who wouldn't be so excited about having their dream job?

There is something so soothing working with a beast that can swallow you whole, yet if you have the right energy and you treat them right they can be more obedient than a Crup.

When I first got the job I worked with a team of researchers. Since I have never seen a dragon in real life before starting working, my boss Matthew wanted me to learn about their behavior and study them to be better prepared to do other things.

They all thought I will be bored out of my mind – because I applied for the care of dragons position and not researching – but I loved every second of it. All I had to do was wake up every morning and go to the assigned habitat and observe the dragon there and take notes. It's like reading a book about the creatures – something I did almost every day of my 7 years at Hogwarts – but you get to be around them every single day.

My mother thinks I am insane for wanting to be around such dangerous creatures and I had to promise her before I left for Romania that I will write home every day otherwise she is coming to get me at once. I guess she needs to know daily that I wasn't eaten by a dragon. The thing is that being hurt by a dragon is less likely than falling off a broom, so I don't know what she is so worried about.

The only one of my family members that knows about all my injuries and all my scars is my big brother Bill. He understands that I don't mind getting hurt and he doesn't get a heart attack every time I end up in the infirmary. It's nice to talk to someone about these things outside my workspace. Even though being a Curse Breaker isn't the safest job in the world, Bill's number of scars can't even compare to mine.

We do have protective gear and gloves but sometimes the dragon's fire and teeth are just too strong. We are lucky that we have wonderful healers that take care of us and we have remedies that heal burns within minutes so it's mostly just an annoyance.

The year after my training I worked only with Common Welsh Greens. The year after that I tamed two Antipodean Opaleyes and it was the best feeling to see them get excited and welcome me with a friendly roar every morning. Even though they were both adults it felt like dealing with two kids and it was so much fun. The latter are such sweethearts and I even taught one how to roll over. They are like dogs but bigger, way bigger.

After that, I tried to convince my boss to let me work with a more dangerous breed. It's not that I didn't like what I did but I like a challenge. I needed 2 months to convince him to let me work with 2 Chinese Fireballs and by the smirk on his face I knew I was in for a treat. They were brought to our reserve so they could breed but no matter how much others tried nobody succeeded at mating them.

When Matthew finally gave in – not seeing any harm in letting me try before they send them back – I remember I danced around my hut for a solid half an hour being so excited to work with them the next day.

I was surprised that nobody thought of the strategy I choose. It was true that they brought the dragons to us together but they didn't know each other and since nobody thought of trying to acquaint them first, I gave it a go.

After 3 days they were best mates and I gave them 4 more days to fully feel comfortable with each other before taking them to the mating habitat. I am more than proud to say that since then they have been parents 2 times. I did some great things since I started working in the Sanctuary but you never forget your first big achievement.

Due to Matthew being absolutely in awe of me succeeding after a week he allowed me to work with a bunch of Swedish Short-Snouts even though usually only a dragonologist with 5+ years of experience can work with them alone.

I was amused when I saw the faces of some of my older co-workers when they found out – thinking they were going to get the job. I love working with them even though they are the ones responsible for most of my scars. Just after the first day, one burned my entire forearm and everyone thought I was going to back off because of it but it only made me want to work with them more.

Now, after almost 10 years I have worked with every single breed of dragon except my favorite – the Hebridean Black. They are one of the most dangerous and stubborn kind and only a dragonologist with a lot of experience gets to work with them.

I got the glimpse of one when I was working with the research team but no matter how sneaky I tried to be, Matthew wouldn't let me get anywhere close to them. I even got a chance to work with a team that took care of a sick Norwegian Ridgeback even though they are considered to be the most dangerous.

A year ago I got a chance to be part of an exchange program at the Swedish Dragon Reserve and I worked with a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly. My boss wasn't happy about the latter one as he reckoned I was too inexperienced to be around and try to tame the largest breed of dragons but as you can probably tell from what I told you so far, I was over the roof about it!

The Ironbelly might be the largest but they are among the least vicious ones – none of my co-workers would agree with me as most of them are terrified of them but I think they are adorable thinking since they are the biggest they are also the scariest. It's the same as with dogs – sometimes the smaller ones are more dangerous.

I got out of bed with a grin on my face. Even though I don't like to admit it I like reminiscing on my biggest achievements.

I made myself some breakfast – eggs and bacon as usual – while blasting music on my wireless. Nothing like singing while cooking and reading the letters my family sent me.

Mum and dad were going to visit George and Ron for the weekend. Bill and Fleur decided to repaint their living room. Ginny invited me to one of her games next week and Percy got another promotion.

I walked to the wall where I had a calendar hanging to mark the date of Ginny's game. It was the perfect event to meet with most of my family members and I love supporting her. I am proud of all my siblings' achievements but Ginny being the only girl among 6 boys made us all have a soft spot for her - even Percy, even though he would probably deny it if someone asked him about it.

Since I was working with three different dragons at the moment – Peruvian Vipertooth named Hel and two Romanian Longhorns Lasair and Rocker – I double-checked my schedule to see which one I am supposed to visit today. As I thought, it was Lasair. I know my schedule by heart but always check it twice– I don't want any dragon to be jealous thinking one is getting more attention from me.

My routine with the dragons was simple. First, they get their breakfast which is usually a piece of their favorite meat, except if it's our Common Welsh Green Crystal – she is the only dragon I have ever met that is a vegetarian and she mostly doesn't want to eat anything else than apples. It took us the longest time to figure out why she doesn't want to eat – vomiting out all the meat we gave her – until we moved her to an habitant with a pumpkin patch and them mysteriously disappearing overnight.

After the feeding, I like to play with them. That usually includes large balls or levitating rocks after which they can jump and run. Then it's my favorite part of the day – the flying lessons. We transport them to the part of the reserve that is built like a large stadium in the middle of the forest surrounded by mountains and it has 10 obstacles that the dragons have to learn to overcome so they are cleared for free-flying sessions.

After flying it's time for a brief pause to get the dragon back to its habitat and calm it down before giving it dinner and tucking it in.

Flying is the most fun thing we can do at our job. When Matthew told me that I am finally allowed to fly with them, I had to excuse myself and go to the bathroom because I felt like crying my eyes out. I wanted to fly on a dragon ever since I was a kid and even though I heard rumors about training them in that way, I always thought it was too good to be true.

The first time I flew on a dragon was with a dragonologist named Jim. He showed me how to properly prepare the dragon to be in the mood to have a person on its back and how to lift off and then safely land. Vulcan the Opaleye was just the loveliest when I trained with him to trust me to the point that he would allow me to fly. Even though my dream is to one day fly on a Hebridean Black, I wouldn't change my first flight for anything in the world.

Vulcan was more than obedient and so careful to make me feel comfortable and constantly made sure I was still on his back. He flew in a straight line and at an even pace making me feel so safe that I let go of his shiny scales and lifted my hands in the air. I wanted to shout from all the adrenaline and excitement that ran through me but I didn't want to startle the dragon.

It's safe to say that I didn't sleep at all that night. The second I laid in my bed I felt as if I was still in the air with Vulcan and I couldn't help but wish to do that every day.

"Good morning, Lasair. What do you want to eat this morning? Boar, deer, moose perhaps?"Lasair lifted her head sleepily at me. I teased her with the options, knowing full well that moose was her favorite. If she could speak she would ask me if I can't remember her favorite meal.

"Don't worry, you'll get what you want." I winked at her and put on my gloves before taking out my wand and levitating the big chunk of meat to her.

Lasair was one of the rare dragons that ate her food slowly, so I loved to sit down next to her and watched her chew. If Matthew saw me, he would probably murder me for sitting so close to a dragon but he doesn't know that Lasair and I have an agreement of her keeping me alive and I give her some extra meat for dinner in return.

"So, Lassy, I have some bad news." I cleared my throat as the dragon stopped chewing and tilted her head toward me. "We have to sharpen your claws today."

Lasair groaned and went back to her breakfast.

"I know, I know. Not your favorite thing to do. Trust me if it was up to me, we would rather do something more fun like play with your favorite tire or play fetch with your ball. But the boss said it was time."

Lasair didn't react to my words but laid on the ground once she finished her meal and wrapped her tail around me.

"You know that cuddling and being cute won't work on me." I chuckled. "Not this time, at least."

The dragon's nostrils started to smoke and I knew she was trying to negotiate.

"Between you and me," I whispered, "I'll throw in another piece of meat if you'll be a good girl like last time. How about some boar for dessert, huh?"

Lasair let out a gentle roar, giving me a sign that she agrees with my terms.

"That's my girl. I knew we'll find a common ground." I grinned at her and got up so we could start our day.

"Okay, Lassy. I will need you to step on this mat and do the burying motion. As if you were burying the bones of a deer." I explained when Lasair looked at the mat in confusion.

I mimicked the gesture and she copied it and walked to the mat with grace as if she was a princess.

"There you go! I am so proud of you, Lasair. You really want that extra piece of meat, huh?" I laughed to myself.

"So that is how you get all dragons to behave as if they're Crups?" I turned toward the voice and saw Matthew's amused face, observing my work with the Romanian Longhorn.

"You were never meant to find out," I said in a dramatic voice.

"Oh, it's fine." Matthew swung his hand. "You'll need all the skills."

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows at him as I stepped to Lasair to show her to step a bit forward so she could sharpen the claws on her back paws as well.

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Matthew asked, observing my every move.

"No." I lied. I knew that tomorrow will be 10 years since I work in the reserve but I didn't want to boast about it.

"Come on, Charles. I know that you out of everyone here you’re the one who counts how long you are working here for." He smirked at me.

I couldn't believe it. He remembered that it's my 10th anniversary? I couldn't help but grin.

"What about it?" I tried acting casually.

"Well, the team was thinking about what to get you as a present..."

"Matt, you don't have to get me anything. You know I am just happy being surrounded by dragons." I smiled appreciatively.

"Well, how about you get surrounded by a new dragon?" He winked at me.

"What are you on about?" I narrowed my eyes at him. I was getting impatient, the excitement in me growing.

"We are getting a one-year-old Hebridean Black in a week from the MacFusty’s." Matthew started to explain. "And since you are so good at taming and being best mates with the three you’re taming now, I was thinking of assigning it to you."

"Did...did you just say a Hebridean Black?" I said in a voice that was barely a whisper. I couldn't believe what just came out of his mouth. He was going to let me work with my favorite breed?

"You heard correctly, Charles." Matthew's smirk was growing larger.

"But...but I don't have enough experience, you said so yourself. You...you should give the job to someone worthy, to someone who will know how to handle the breed." I knew that I should've just shut up and thank him for the opportunity. Working with a Hebridean Black has been my goal ever since I can remember, but I have to keep my head clear and think of what's best for the dragon.

"Thinking like this is exactly why I am giving the job to you even though I told you the last time you begged me that you need at least 7 more years before you can work with them." Something in his eyes shifted. He had the exact expression on his face as he did when he assigned me to breed those two Fireballs.

"You are up to something. What's wrong with the dragon?" I pursed my lips at him.

"Oh, the dragon is just fine. Lovely, actually. I bet you two will have a lot of fun." The sarcastic tone in his voice told me that he was hiding something from me but I didn't dare to ask him about it.

He deemed me ready to work with a Hebridean Black. To work with my favorite breed. I am not about to jeopardize that if he thinks I am the one for the job. In a week my biggest dream will come true and there was nothing in the world that could ruin that.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

My thoughts on the MCC games

So my mind is still dwelling on MCC. Damn, I loved it. 

I thought I’d share my thoughts about each game! (Note: I always watch Tommy for MCC.)

Big Sales at Build Mart. It’s alright. I think it’s good as an early game - I enjoyed that it was first this MCC, allowing the teams to get used to each other and it didn’t matter too much in points. Whereas I kinda dislike it late game - it’s not one I want to be high pressure. In some respects its a lot more chill as you’re less directly competing against others and more working together to build something. It still feels tense and as a viewing experience its alright but painful to see streamers making mistakes which they inevitably do as its so high pressure. The changes of getting rid of the boats was so, so good. Losing Buildmart before was often because you failed a turn and lose so much progress which was way too devastating. much easier to navigate now too. (I didn’t like how in one build Tommy couldn’t see a block properly under glass, but usually the builds are very nice. 

Hole in the wall - this one I’ve always really enjoyed watching. It’s a fun game with a great level of difficulty. Tommy’s pretty good at this one too and I like that he has a real habit of messing around in it. This game is the one where Wilbur lost his voice in MC11 after too much shouting. In MCC13 it was singing christmas songs. Something about it just makes everyone want to mess around. I like how although its mostly a solo game, team communication is useful ust shouting out colours and shouting out warnings. I saw Vikkstar being warned about approaching walls before they killed him a couple times by his teammates for instance and I like that. (Contrast ace race where its so hard to give much meaningful advice.) That said, the game is extremely glitchy! Hbomb demonstrated it this round but people have always been sliding through walls plus players with higher ping get an advantage. I would understand if they wanted to shelf it. I think it’d be hard to fix - 40 players in one area with moving slime walls will be so hard to handle. I wonder if they could have 10 separate maps instead or something to make it more feasible to play as I’ll be sad if it has to go.

Skybattle - really really fun from Tommy’s perspective! You can tell he loves it so I love it too. Rounds kinda have a tendency to all end the same way with little bridges towards the centre, might be cool if there was some existing narrow walkways to the middle as well and maybe new maps though I do like the current map as well! Hah, but yeah I love it! It’d probably be too much played too late but its the absolute perfect mid round game and every MCC there’s always really cool exciting plays. Its really fast-paced which sets it apart.

Survival Games - it’s a classic. probably a little frustrating points wise as its a single round meaning an early death is so costly. survival points in this one are worth so much. I seriously enjoy it though it is not one you want too late in the tournament. Also a good opener as its not too intense from the start, even if it gets pretty intense as the map shrinks. The maps for these games are always awesome and well-designed. (I think puffy might have fallen in an inescapable hole though? She was getting attacked at the time so maybe it was escapable but yeah - careful playtesting is important to make sure no spots like those exist. Which is hopefully the case!)

Ace race - I greatly enjoy this game. Tommy’s generally surprisingly good at it which helps. It just seems like a really fun minigame to play. Obviously this MCC the map had some errors and was maybe too confusing. The map was long and every moment had something new to process, a chiller section or two where you can observe and take it in a bit more would have been nice. It is a little fiddly with a lot of different mechanics leading to glitches. Tridents are just annoying! But its one thats a good time. I only dislike how its so much a solo experience - you can try and give advice to your team but its so hard to give useful input unless you’re right by your teammate. I quite enjoy this one being fairly late game as its exciting but not so harsh as the elimination games.

Battle Box: very cool game assuming the map’s fun! (Some MCCs had ones I didn’t care for.) And they remember to never ever give any players TNT ever again. There’s a bunch of tactics to employ, custom items, flanking. It’s just a really nice strategic mini-game. I like how its lots of ranged combat and there’s enough rounds that you don’t feel too bad about a mistake. It’s good anywhere in the tournament. Glad it got added to the practice server as its a lot of fun to watch streamers just play. Though they don’t ever practise the wool rushing tactics on there. xD Shame Tommy’s not built for this game though.

TGTTOS: I love this game! Lots of fun to watch and its kinda solo but also you can help your team and work together with some effort. Hmmm... though some of the individual maps for this game can be very hit-or-miss. I think generally you want like at least 80% of players to complete the map. A few of them have been too long and hard. Lots of punching goes on in this game and I kinda don’t mind. The one with the wool targets was probably a little too confusing. I like most of the original maps for this game aside form the cliffside punching one though I understand the same maps every time would be bad. Rocket jumping seems kinda finicky so I’m not a fan. Tridents, elytras, ice, and bridging are all great fun though and I do enjoy the variety. Again its good anywhere in the tournament! 

Parkour Tag - Not a fan. I like it in concept I guess but aah the scoring is annoying. It gives you points for survival which is so dependent on the person hunting you and it feels like there’s strategy about choosing the hunter for each opponent but in reality there’s not. I kinda wish the same person could be the hunter every round just so one person has that role. The maps have never felt that fun as it generally feels like scrambling around. Also this game rarely shifts the scores much at all, the ways points are awarded is just too strange. Maybe a bigger map and longer rounds? I don’t know though. This game is terrible as an end game and I guess its okay earlier. Yeah, I really wish there was a good parkour type game but this one isn’t it for me. (this is still much better than Parkour warrior mind!)

Rocket Spleef - Alright. I feel like this is one that’s hard on new players as rocket jumping is odd - getting kills in this game is also not easy. Hopefully they practice the mechanics on the practice server. That said I do enjoy this one quite a bit, it’s fun to watch. The deal breaker is the map. Some maps are just way better than others. I think by the end of a round the maps should be pretty much destroyed and I think it’d be awesome if rounds ended with only one or two people left alive. As long as its got a good map though it’s plenty of fun! It’s exciting without being really intense or high pressure and three rounds is a good amount. Good anywhere in the tournament.

Bingo But Fast - I don’t know how I feel about this one. Please don’t do it the nether again, that was too much. xD I think this game is too intense for me - it’s really fast-paced as completions start happening right away and earlier ones are worth more points. Also it’s another that is stressful to watch the streamer play non-optimally. That said it is an interesting game and I think its cool to have a mode like survival minecraft - generally I like how many games highlight different fun activities in minecraft. It’s such a varied tournament! Again I like this one best mid-tournament, not too late or too early. Maybe I’d like it a bit more without the locking out. like after the first five completions, the remaining completions of it still get a few points - a fixed amount. This is an interesting game but it’s also a really hard game! 

Sands of Time - This one is pretty awesome. A lot of fun to watch even if its so so painful for a streamer to lose.  Nice dungeon crawler feel, with cool maps and exciting traps. The vaults matter a lot to points. I like how less confident players can do safer stuff and its a very team-oriented game in the best possible way. As you don’t know how the other teams are doing it gets pretty intense and works well as a last game. Some traps are a bit annoying and I think ones requiring a second player are cool in concept but a bit too demanding. Also please please never make it out of snow again. People kept missing the snow! That was painful. Tommy’s interesting to watch and has successfully solved some risky traps even if he sometimes makes poor decisions xD 

Damn this turned out long! Listen, I love this event. All the games are delightfully unique and challenging and fun to watch. These are just my personal opinions. This is such a well-made and impressive tournament with such a great variety of games testing different things. 

Feel free to argue with me about any of these. Sorry parkour tags fans. xD

[blackenedwhite97]

Storge (Familial Love)Pt.2- EraserMic x Student!Reader

This post includes: Mentions of loss of family, cursing, mentions of fiscal problems, mild violence and injury, a prominent homosexual relationship, and mentions and depictions of anxiety.

Original Request: “Imagine living all by yourself. You’re a teenager that lost their parents years ago and refused to become a part of the foster system. So now you work and take care of your own apartment all while going to school at U.A. It was starting to take a real toll on you when Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada approached you, like concerned parents. It could be written as platonic or romantic. (Not with the reader, I'm talking about Mic and Eraser)”

Authors Note: 

As per usual I over wrote! This will be divided into two chapters. I went off on a bit of a tangent with this one but to be fair i wrote the first half over two months ago and the second half this week.

Word Count: 5.6k

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Chapter 2

That day you walked home in your new coat; the wind’s bitter teeth unable to gnaw at your bones like it used to. When you reached your front door, you didn’t want to shrug it off and toss it into the pile of sweaters and hoodies you kept near the door for cold days. You wanted to keep it on even if that meant, for the first times since the weather had changed, you’d be sweating through your clothes. It was new, you like new. It was a gift; you’d forgotten how much you like gifts. You cooked in the coat, did your homework in your coat and eventual fell asleep on your couch swaddled in the warm fur hood.

When the sun broke through your blinds the next morning you uncurled yourself, reluctantly peeling off the coat in favor of getting some fresh air on your sweaty skin. You checked the time on your phone, 5:32 AM. It was still early and you wagered you could sneak in a couple more hours of sleep before you had the be in class, but you overflowing kitchen garbage can caught your eye and you decided you’d rather use this time to maybe take care of somethings you’d let slide. First order of business was to clean your dishes, the counters, and gather all the miscellaneous trash scattered around your apartment. The second was to take said trash to the complex’s communal waste bin across the parking lot. Your apartment was starting to look like a functioning home again, the next thing to go was the pile of warm layer next to the door, you wouldn’t be needing those anymore.

The snow crunched under your feet, more had fallen throughout the night and it hadn’t yet been disturbed by the day’s traffic. The sky was pink and the rooftops white, and in the early morning silence your neighborhood didn’t look half bad. You lifted the heavy metal lid to the trash bin, tossing your over-stuffed bag before the seams could give way. With a clang you dropped the lid, the sound resonating through the streets. A dog barked in response and the world returned to silence.

You took a deep breath of crisp clean air and for a moment everything faded, only the blazing sky and your swirling breath mattered. Then the snow behind you started to crunch, footsteps moving closer. You turned around, suspicious of anyone else up and about this early in the morning. You were met with two familiar sleepy eyes peeking out from behind a thick grey scarf.

“Mr. Aizawa, G-good morning?” you greeted awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah. Good morning.” He said back, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I’m- just heading back from a night patrol. Sorry if I startled you.”

“I didn’t know you patrolled around here.” You’d never seen him before, which you guessed was technically the point.

“I-” he paused. “Just expanded my patrol range recently.”

“Oh, good to know.” You smiled at him; you rarely saw heroes here. If you did it wasn’t for long.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you in class.” He started to turn away.

“Hey, Mr. Aizawa?” An idea suddenly popping into your head. He paused and looked back at you. “I- since I have my provisional licence I’m allowed to patrol with a licensed hero and if you’re in the area on my night off-”

“No.” He said, turning back away. “You’re too loud. I’m sure Mr. Yamada would be willing to take you on patrol, if you ask nice enough. He can’t stealth to save his life.”

“I am not!” you huffed. “I can stealth if I want to!”

Still turned away from you chuckled. “Prove it in class today, then maybe.”

He started away again and in mere second scaled your building and leap across the roof out of view. You made you way back to your apartment, taking care to step slowly and as carefully as the snow would allow it. You’d show him stealth!

Mr. Aizawa wasn’t kidding about class. The whole obstacle course was built around stealth, evade capture for thirty minutes with no use of force and pass. It was in teams, you failed, your team also failed. You, as you were fully aware were, the least subtle out of your teammates. He had grouped you together on purpose, you knew it. You had to think logically, you had to plan to move around as little as possible. You ended up pulling a cluster of debris around you and your team in the middle of what looked like a junk yard, using your power to keep them in place as All Might thundered around looking for you.

        While it definitely was suspicious that this pile of debris wasn’t moving while the world’s strongest hero was lunging around, shaking buildings with each impact Mr. Aizawa passed your team. You were dismissed early for lunch with your team, beaming as you left the training grounds. You’d passed, proved you were stealthy.

        After you had wrapped up your lunch you decided to head back to your home room early, you were tutoring a first year in history and needed to take time to refresh your memory. Why not in an empty classroom?

        You knocked on the door tentatively, hoping Mr. Yamada had taken his lunch outside of his room. That, however, wasn’t the case. “Hello?”

        You slid the door open a fraction. Mr. Yamada and Mr. Aizawa sitting across from each other on two student desks, a convenience store bought bento open between the two of them. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt I was looking for a quiet place to study.”

        “Your always welcomed in your homeroom! Come in, we’ll keep the talking to a minimum.” Mr. Yamada waved you inside as he hopped off his desk to grab a white steaming cup from the edge of his desk. “What are you studying?”

        “First year history.” You held up your worn out textbook. “I tutor some of the underclassmen.”

        “Any from my class?” Aizawa asked.

        “E-Eijiro Kirishima.” You were pretty sure he was in Mr. Aizawa’s class, the kid sure complained about him enough anyways.

        “Hm.” He shrugged to himself. “I wondered how he suddenly started passing most of his tests.”

        “Speaking of passing…” you trailed off looking at Mr. Aizawa expectantly.

“Yes, you did.” He sighed into his coffee.

“See, I can be stealthy!” you exclaimed, clutching your book to your chest.

“No, you can hide. You tripped over your own feet leaving for lunch.” Mr. Aizawa grumbled.

“But you passed me!” You chirped. “You said that if I passed you’d take me on a patrol!”

“I said maybe I’d consider it” he corrected you.

“Sho.” Mr. Yamada chided him, eyes peering over his orange glasses.

“I-” Mr. Aizawa looked at his partner, then over to you. You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, Mr. Yamada doing the same. “When’s you’re next night off?”

“Thursday.” Your smiled grew genuine.

“I’ll be in your neighborhood around 8, take a nap after school and don’t be late the next day.” He instructed, eyeing Mr. Yamada frustratedly.

“Yes, sir!” you bowed. You began backing out of the room.

“Aren’t you going to study?” Mr. Yamada called as to were just about to breach the doorway.

“Right! Yes, thank-you!” You scurried forward, taking your usual desk and opening the textbook.

The next few days passed, work claiming your evening, classes taking up your days until you found yourself lacing up your boots at your front door waiting for 8 o’clock on Thursday evening. You’d seen Mr. Aizawa once in your neighborhood since Tuesday morning, and he was sporting a bruise that seemed to disappear by the beginning of class that very same day. You supposed he had access to Recovery Girl’s powers in the morning before the building filled up with students.

You leaned against your window frame, staring out into the parking lot waiting for the familiar darkly dressed silhouette to appear against the snow. When he finally leaped down from your roof you raced out the door to meet him. you slide to a stop in the slippery snow, spattering his legs with wet slush.

“Subtle.” To your surprise an entertained grin tugged at his lips. “I have a specific surveillance target tonight. I want you to get your patrol experience but if I tell you to turn tail or stay back you do as I say, got it?”

You nodded. “Who is it?”

He stared walking; his footsteps impossibly silent in the dense snow. You now realize, if had wanted to hide his presence the other morning, he could have. You tried to mimic his soft steps, but your pace suffered and you found yourself trailing behind him.

“His alias is Earth Breaker, he’s an elemental type villain. He can control earth at his will, that means projectiles of stone and a solid defense.” Mr. Aizawa briefed you.

“Any we’re surveying him because?”

“Remember that apartment complex that went down last month about six block from here?”

“That was him?”

“Yeah. He killed lots of people in that building.” Mr. Aizawa paused and looked at you. “I’ll tell you when we need to stealth you can just walk normally for now.”

You straightened up and jogged to catch up to him matching his strides until he began to slow about six blocks later.  He held up a hand and turned to you. “Stay fifteen feet back, don’t lose me.”

You nodded and strayed off to the side of the sidewalk where a hedge of wild bushed would give you quick cover if you needed it and began to follow Mr. Aizawa from a distance. He ducked into an open gate, melting into the darkening yard, you hugged the fence and peered into the dark until you caught a glimpse of him moving again. He darted across the yard and you ducked into the gate just in time to see him jump the farthest fence. You dashed to the fence, careful to slow down so you didn’t make a loud impact against it. On the other side Mr. Aizawa’s rough voice whispered through the gaps in the wood. “The house across the street to the east, you see it?”

You looked to the east along the fence, you were in a perfect position to keep an eye on the top floor of windows. “Yeah.”

“Keep an eye on the top windows, I’m moving in. Text Mr. Yamada- Hizashi- the street name and district if things go awry. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Understood?” this a quiet thud a phone landed at your feet, a text chain with Hizashi already on the screen.

“Roger.” You nodded, grabbing the phone from the ground. You heard him leave but not where he went, and for several long minutes you waited in silence. Nothing in the windows stirred save the lights going on in a room, then going out again. You pre-typed the text to Mr. Yamada in case you had to send it quick and waited. You kept waiting. The street was so silent that you felt as though outside of yourself time had stopped.

You sat in limbo until suddenly the ground beneath you began to tremble. Waves of tremors rolled past you, flowerpots clattered on their saucers and fences began to sway. You stood up and dashed toward the gate, fighting against the tremors to stay on your feet. A loud bang rang out through the streets, echoing from the house across the street. You latched onto the top of the gate and peered over it just in time to see a cloud of dust washing towards you. You ducked until the worst of it washed passed you, by this time lights all around the neighborhood had begun to turn on a civilian peaked out of windows and doors.

You held your breath and hauled yourself over the fence, landing in a bed of flowers, you felt a tinge of guilt about crushing. Through the settling dust you could see the front of the house you’d been watching; it was covered in dust and the front door was hanging on by a single hinge. In the doorway a hulking man stood, his arms braced against the door frame which had fishers running through it that bled into the walls. His eyes were a light with an animalistic rage, the type of rage only a mad man could carry inside.

As the dust continued to roll back you could see more of the street, rocks and dirt scattered everywhere. Shingles and chunks of siding rained down from the house and bounced off the street. Mr. Aizawa crouched in the street, dust rolling off of him as he shielded the bottom half of his goggled face. You looked at the phone in your hand then back at him, he still seemed so calm. You left the message unsent.

“A SPY?!” The man in the doorway roared. He brought one of his great fists down onto the stone walkway at the front of the house and a fissure formed, snaking across the ground towards Mr. Aizawa. “THEY SENT ANOTHER SPY?!”

Mr. Aizawa launched himself backwards, barely escaping the crumbling ground beneath him. He should have been faster; you could have gotten away quicker than that. You watched as he landed, quickly shifting his weight to his left foot immediately after hitting the ground. He’s hurt.

You hit send. Better safe than sorry.

Earth Break fired off two quick fire blasts, Mr. Aizawa easily skirting one but heading straight into the middle of another. You shot out your hand and thought about pulling him towards you out of the way. He grunted as he was jerked backwards, landing and sliding into the grass. He side glanced at you, keeping his head turned towards the enemy. His hand hung at his side flinched, his fingers motioning for you to back up. You did as you were told, scrambling sideways into some bushes that lined the yard you were in. He stood and took off, even on his injured leg he managed to fade away into the night.

Behind you a low creak altered you to someone peeking out of the front door. You turned around and saw a man wrapped in his house coat staring wordlessly at the behemoth across the street currently smashing apart the driveway. You whistled quietly at him, his eyes darting to you. He stopped himself from shouting in surprise with a hand over his mouth and a calming breath. You crawled closer to him with a finger help to you lips.

“Get back inside, to the rear of the house!” you whispered.

He looked back across the street and his eye swelled with fear as he took a step back inside the house, this time a yell escaping him. You spun around to see a chunk of the road hurdling towards the house. Thinking quickly, you darted towards it and just as it passed over head pulled it towards you with your quirk. You rolled to the side narrowly escaping being totally crushed, instead getting away with a nasty gash in your arm from a stray piece of rebar. You jumped to your feet and looked back at the house, the owner was a few feet inside frozen with fear.

“Run!” you shouted at him. With a tremendous grunt behind you another chucked of road was launched towards you.

“ANOTHER ONE!” he roared.

You darted in the only direction you could at the moment, the house. You rushed in through the door,  and pushed the man inside along as you did. You breached the kitchen just as the boulder crashed through the doorway, tearing into the walls as it did. Debris flew everywhere, pieces of wood and insulation filling the air. You pulled the man through his house until you both burst through into the backyard.

“Keep going!” you huffed as you spun around and darted back through the house.

You breached the crater where the front door had once been, the shadow of a massive dust storm beginning to swallow the top of the house. Rocks and dirt and chunks of boulders began whipping around, leaving the house was next to impossible unless you wanted to be bludgeoned with debris. Windows shattered, the ground shook and the foundation began to crumble beneath you. The cement base tore through the carpeted floors in spears, you had to jump left and right narrowly avoiding serious injury until you made it to the stairs where the spears were having a harder time getting at you.

Then everything stopped, the spears crumbled into sand and the ground stilled. The house moaning as it settled back into its uneven foundation. The street quieted, almost back to the timeless silence before the chaos had begun. A single roar of anger pierced the air, cut short with a grunt. You steadied yourself on the stair railing and made your way on uneasy legs to the front yard. Mr. Aizawa stood, covered in dust and debris, with a single boot pressed into Earth Break’s chest. His hands pulled tightly on his capture weapon, restraining the boulder of a man below him.

The street began to fill with lights and sirens, the cool blue darkness of the night flooded with red and white. Police piled out of their cars and vans to load the villain into an armoured truck for transport. You plopped down onto the front steps, brushing aside an uprooted plant. You sat and watched the arrest, watched how many officers it took to contain just one man. He was the definition of raw power, one stray kick tearing off a police car door.

Once he disappeared into the truck you leaned back onto your arms, you were beat. You were sore and exhausted, but you were also in a strange perverse sense happy. Perhaps it was the adrenalin of what you’d just gone through still coursing through your system or the afterglow of a technically successful patrol, but you felt like this was what you were meant to be doing. This hero thing, this was for you.

When a pair of ambulances arrived, you watched as the paramedics jumped into action. One of them offering medical treatment to Mr. Aizawa who, you had only just noticed, was making a b-line towards you. He waved off the paramedic, limping towards you on his injured leg.

“Are you alright?” He grunted, lowering himself onto the step next to you.

You looked over yourself, your sleeve was torn, and arm was scratched up from the rebar in the boulder but you would live. It immediately started to thrum with pain when you looked at it, the blissful ignorance of adrenaline wearing off as soon as you actually took stock of the injury. You were covered in dirt and dust, but you still felt good, despite your injuries.

“Yeah. Just a scratch.”  You shrugged. “How’s your leg?”

“I’ll live.” He grumbled looking down at his torn pant leg. “Thanks for that by the way, the save earlier. Even if you did put yourself directly into harm’s way, like an idiot.”

You chuckled to yourself. There was always a learning opportunity with him.

“No problem?”

You both sat in silence for a moment, watching some of the police cars start to leave.  It was him who spoke next. “So, where’s my phone?”

“Oh,” you looked over your shoulder at where you had dropped it, a large boulder sitting in the wake of a deep groove in the lawn. “it’s-”

“Under that boulder?” he sighed.

You nodded solemnly; you couldn’t afford to replace that phone.

“Well, at least it’s not you under the boulder.” He turned back to face the street.

Was that… a glimmer of fondness? You smiled to yourself, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. You still missed that, people being glad to have you around. You didn’t really spend enough time around people to feel that anymore.

“Okay,” Mr. Aizawa pushed himself to his feet. “let’s get that armed checked out.”

“It’s a scratch, I’m fine.”

“It’s flesh eating bacteria waiting you kill you.” He said, pulling you up with surprising strength for a guy with a bum leg. It wasn’t quite the same as Mr. Yamada’s unbridled kindness, but you got the feeling this was Mr. Aizawa’s version of fussing over you.

***

“Hey.” There was a quiet knock at the door of your room. You looked away from the fuzzy TV screen to find Mr. Yamada leaning up against the door frame, a disappointing looking cup of coffee in his hand.

“Hi. What’s are you doing here?”

“Sho- Mr. Aizawa had to get an x-ray for his ankle so I thought I’d stop by and keep him company while he waited.” Mr. Yamada looked over his shoulder, sighed, shook his head and turned back to you. “It would seem he needed so such company though.”

“What do you mean?” You gestured at the chair in the corner of the examination room for him to sit.

“Well,” he gladly took the seat, propping his boot clad feet up on a basket of magazines. “he’s been on the phone passing around the emergency room, probably hurting himself even more. He’s giving the station an ear full right now, he’s not very happy with them.”

“Why? They came pretty quick.” You picked at the paper rolled out across the bed.

“You.” Mr. Yamada placed the cup in his hands on the ground and looked up at you. “He only let you patrol with him because the report he was given on Earth Breaker misclassified him in threat level.”

He leaned back into the chair, sinking down like a bored teenager trying to slip away. “I’ve never heard him chew someone out for so long.” Mr. Yamada grumbled.

“Really?” You didn’t really know what to say, partially because you couldn’t picture Mr. Aizawa being upset and the other part because you were trying not to fall asleep. The adrenaline had worn off about half an hour ago and the pain meds the nurses gave you were strating to lull you to sleep.

“Yeah.” Mr. Yamada pushed himself back into a proper sitting position, tucking one leg under himself. He was obviously uncomfortable in the wooden waiting chair. “I was surprised when the nurse said you were still here, I thought you’d have gotten stitched up and went home.”

You blinked a few times, begging your eyes to stop drooping.

“I have to wait for my case worker to come get me, since I’m a minor leaving the hospital after treatment is kind of tricky. I can’t check myself out.” You shrugged.

Mr. Yamada sighed, not particularly happy with his new position but seemingly not bothered enough to fix it either. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I called and left a message like, an hour and a half ago.” You looked down at your phone, there was a new crack in the screen. No New Messages.

“And?” Mr. Yamada asked.

“Well, it’s currently 2:30 in the morning,” you breathed, “so I assume she’s asleep. If I don’t hear form her in another 30 minutes the hospital will call child services and they’ll send an overnight clerk to get me.”

“Shit.” He mumbled. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah. Mr. Yamada?”

“Mm?” he looked at you, his body sliding down in the chair.

“Don’t expect me to make to class on time tomorrow okay?” you grinned. You were tired and it was the best approximation of a joke you could make.

“I’d be upset if you even showed up.” He huffed, pushing himself up.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes, the distant gruff voice of Mr. Aizawa lecturing someone filling quiet. You looked at the TV for a bit, our eyes burning with exhaustion. You tried to read the medical posters, but the reading made it hard for you not to nod off. Eventually, after a particularly long blink Mr. Yamada spoke up.

“Lie down, go to sleep. I can wake you up when someone comes to get you.” You were about to protest when he reached up a turned off the lights. The open door still letting in the cool light from the hallway. “Shhhhhhhh.”

You could have sworn you’d seen his silhouette sink down in the chair as his shush came to an end. While you hated the idea of sleeping around other people you couldn’t fight the urge to close our eyes and fine rest.

***

“Should we wake her?”

“We have to, she has to sign a form before she can leave, Zashi.”

“Shit, right!.....Hey Sho?”

“Mmmm?”

“Thank-you.”

A hand gently shook your leg, waking you from your shallow sleep. You blinked into the dark room, a figure leaning in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall lights. At the end of the paper topped bed was Mr. Yamada, or rather his very recognizable silhouette. Still dazed with sleep you rubbed your eyes and started to pull yourself up, the paper crinkling and tearing under you.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted softly.

“They here?” you mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“No, no, no.” he seemed somewhat nervous, glancing behind him at the figure in the doorway. “Mr. Aizawa called in a favor with someone at Child Services, he got permission to check you out. We’ll give you a lift home.”

You blinked. You weren’t entirely sure if you understood what was happening, you were too tired to really care. Home sounded good and he said you could go home. You nodded anyways and slid off the table, Mr. Yamada putting a pre-emptive supportive arm around you. You were on auto piolet, the pain meds and sleepy daze that hung over your head making it impossible for you to fully wake up. You signed some paper, a nurse said something nice. Mr. Aizawa looked…soft. No, nice…nicer than usual.

Then you were in the back seat of Mr. Yamada’s car, drifting off against the car door and dim streetlights passed you by.

***

You woke up to the sun piercing through your blinds, hot rays of light warming your chilled skin. Your room, perusal was chilly, though you were curled up under several blankets. You stretched and groaned, the that fog that hung over. You last night lifting. Lifting. Lifting. Lifted. Panic. You shot straight up, your aching muscles expressing their displeasure at the sudden movement. You looked around for your phone, it was usually under your pillow but then again you didn’t even remember getting into bed.

You didn’t really remember getting home or leaving the hospital. You ran your hands up and down the bed until your phone caught your eye as it rested atop to dresser across the room. You crawled across the bed, stumbling to your feet and looked at the time. 12:14 pm. You’re heart sank. It was Friday and you were late, again. Then your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper, a hastily written note on the back of your grocery receipt.

‘Don’t you dare come to class today. Here’s my number, send me message when you wake up. Let me know you’re not dead. -Mr. Yamada.’      

        You looked down at yourself as the panic subsided. You were in the most basic configuration of your hero costume, the jacket, gloves boots and utility items were folded up next your phone. All that remained what your pants and undershirt, both in need of some patch work and cleaning. You dethatched all of the pieces that couldn’t be washed and gathered up those that could and threw them in the communal washing machine on the floor below. When you reached your apartment again all you wanted was to eat and shower, but you typed out a brief, to the point text and sent it.

               ‘Not Dead. – Y/n.”

        A hot shower warmed you right up. You got a better look at the bruising on your arm and knees, noting too serious nor life threatening. In fact, you’d think you’d probably gotten worse during training. When you got back to your phone you quickly found out Mr. Yamada was an emoji texter. You could only imagine how he and Mr. Aizawa’s message exchanged must look now.

               Glad the hear it! Got something I wanna talk to you about when you have time!’

                    ‘IT’S NOT BAD! I promise!’

                    ‘Is there a time I could stop by this weekend?’

‘Mr. Aizawa would be there too or course! Not like a one on one thing, that would be weird.’

        You could see his energy channeling into texting anxiety. You checked your work schedule, you had day shifts this weekend so any night would work. You responded as such, suddenly realizing you had invited them over to your dumpy apartment. You could kick yourself. You looked around; this place was so rundown that it needed to exorcized of its dust. You flopped back onto the bed, dreading all the cleaning you had ahead of you. To top it off you had a night shift to get ready for.

***

        Saturday. Within the next day you had gone to work twice and between shifts thrown out everything that wasn’t wearable, washable or too offensive to be allowed continued existence. By the time you were moderately happy with your place it looked like a college dorm pre-move in. It’s not that your place had much personality to begin with, but over the last few months the mess had become your only sense of self here. Between your busy schedule and lack of motivation to do anything outside of work and school, you had gotten comfortable living in the product of that life.  Despite the stress of having guests over to a home you were ashamed of, the cleanliness was…nice. You could get used to this.

        You were almost able to enjoy the new environment when a knock sounded at your door and your gut squeezed in on itself. You tried to relax, telling yourself that they weren’t going to judge you. They fought villains for a living, you were not their idea of a bad person. A bad apartment doesn’t make you a bad person. You still felt shitty, though.

        You opened the door. The two of them stood in the hall, shoulder to shoulder, in casual clothes. Mr. Aizawa looking tired, but not as frustrated as he seemed to be when lurking in the halls at U.A. Mr. Yamada was bright and smiling, without the cockatiel hair he seemed less larger than life, more puppy-esque.

        “H-hi!” He greeted.

        “Hey.” You smiled back politely. Okay, now let them in. “C-come on in.”

        It took you a second to open the door wider and step aside, hopefully they didn’t notice. Who were you kidding, Mr. Aizawa definitely noticed, hopefully Mr. Yamada was still unaware of your currently mortified state. You turned around; they were taking in your space. You followed their eyes. Your walls were too bare, your couch sagged awkwardly in the middle, you didn’t even have a kitchen table.

        “This is nicer than your place when you first moved out.” Mr. Aizawa mumbled under his breath, ginning as he elbowed Mr. Yamada.

        “I mean,” Mr. Yamada blushed. “there’s a reason that building doesn’t exist anymore.”

        “Did you guys want to sit? I have… water?” Yes, those were things you said when you had guests.

        “No, thanks.” Mr. Aizawa said, nudging Mr. Yamada towards the couch.

        “O-okay.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly.

        The three of you went towards the couch, the couple sat on the couch and you leaned against you leaned against the T.V. unit. Silence hung in the air; it was a dense silence filled with unspoken words. You were nervous, it felt like you were doing your own parent-teacher interview. Mr. Aizawa remained ever calm, he looked almost serene compared to, not only how you felt but also, to how Mr. Yamada’s vibrating leg betrayed him to be feeling.

        “So,” Mr. Aizawa started.

        “So,” Mr. Yamada trailed behind. With a stern look from his partner he continued. “I know, when you lost your parents you didn’t want to be mix matched with other families.”

        A strange feeling began rising from your stomach, it was somewhere between anxiety and comfort. It made no sense, but you pushed it down and let him continue.

        “And since you’ve been on your own you’ve done really good for yourself.” He fiddled with a loose thread on a tear in his jeans. “But there are some drawbacks, like last night with the whole hospital thing, right?”

        You nodded. Wanting desperately not to jump to the conclusion you felt tickling the back of your mind.

        “I, uh, I was… Well, we were-” Mr. Yamada swallowed hard.

        “We were wondering if, just until you turn 18, you would consider letting us foster you.” Mr. Aizawa has said it but all you could see, and feel was the sheer panic and surprise of Mr. Yamada’s face.

        “Y-you want…to-” you breathed. That warm feeling refused to be repressed any longer and spray forth, a bright shiny joy engulfing you. You had thought you didn’t want this, that you were better off just waiting out your years as a minor. You hadn’t thought about how much you missed family in a long time, how much you missed having people fuss over you and worry about you and even make assholes of themselves for you.

        “It’ll also be easier if you go on school trips or want to apply for a licensing exam, we can even help out with, like, normal everyday life stuff maybe.” Mr. Yamada threw in.

You grinned to yourself. You had five months left to be a kid.

Read Chapter 1 of Storge here!

[luninosity]

Time for the second-to-last @whumptober2020 fic!

This one’s for theme 27 - OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? for the prompt Power Outage. It’s also a present for a friend, who asked if I could write Leverage OT3 fic for her birthday-present - I’ve never written Leverage fic before, but I do love some good Eliot/Parker/Hardison, so I’ve tried!

#

They’re in the middle of watching Ratatouille, because Parker’s never seen it and Hardison likes Pixar and Eliot can quietly critique animated knife skills in his head but say nothing, when the power goes out. There’s a crash and a boom of thunder and a whip of wind, rain hammering down, and just like that, snap, it’s all dark.

 “Oh man,” Hardison says, “oh, come on, no,” and he’s sitting up and reading for a laptop or two as if that’ll do anything, dislodging their comfortable pile of lounging bodies and blankets and a popcorn bowl flawlessly balanced on Parker’s knee.

 Or he would be disrupting it all, if Eliot hadn’t expected the motion, hadn’t moved in turn, catching the bowl, shifting to redistribute weight and free a blanket. He sets the bowl down as his eyes adjust to the dark; he’s always been good at seeing in it, though of course they’re all three not bad at that. Good at improvising, adapting, new environments.

 Parker, distressed, is on her feet. Even in the dark she’s quick and feline, poised to move. “Who could—”

 “—find us here?” Hardison checks the battery on a phone, sets it down, gets up as well: catching her hands as they move, offering reassurance and being reassured in turn. “Nobody. I swear. This’s our place. I’ve got that taken care of.”

 Their place. Their home: the three of them, when they’d become a them at last. Eliot can shut his eyes and recall with perfect clarity the way Parker and Hardison had shown him around, so excited; the way he’d smiled and tried so hard to be excited for them, for their life together, the happiness they deserved, while he’d known he’d be the one leaving and walking away into the cold, leaving his heart with both of them, knowing they’d never know, and that’d be fine, he could live with that as long as they were happy, he could take anything if—

 He can recall the way they’d each taken one of his hands, and the way they’d leaned in to kiss him, easy as breathing, easy as if it could all be simple, easy if he could believe they had room to spare for him.

 This is your home too, Parker had said, eyes wide, surprised that Eliot hadn’t understood this: we found it for us. And Hardison had reached out and drawn him close, and Eliot had gone willingly, because they wanted him, because he didn’t believe it, because they wanted this here and now and he’ll always say yes even if they’ll look at him in the morning and say that was enough, curiosity satisfied, time to go. He’ll say yes to them even if it kills him.

 He’s somehow still here, three months after that.

 He gets up as well, now, in the dark. Parker’s pacing and irritated; none of her best acrobatic skills are of use here, nothing to steal or dare or leap from. Hardison’s annoyed at the power outage but coping by talking to her and checking all his backups and complaining about the timing and the lack of ability to see.

 That, at least, Eliot can do something about.

 He leaves them to find balance in each other; he has a number of various types of emergency stashes hidden in multiple places around the house, most of which Parker and Hardison know about, some they don’t. He never wants to be unprepared; he never wants to be unable to defend them. He finds candles, real and LED; he finds flashlights, and battery packs, and, after a moment’s thought, some chocolate.

 He catches them both looking at him, and then at each other, when he comes back into the living room; he says nothing—no need; he doesn’t need comfort, he’s just fine if they’re also fine—and only starts setting out candles, lighting them, turning them on if they’re artificial.

 Light blooms through the darkness. From tabletops, shelves, the fireplace, kitchen counters. In white and gold, honey and amber, warm and soft and clear and bright: shades of illumination sweep out and curve into quiet safe globes and spheres. They push back the dark, befriend it, share the night: layers of luminosity, brighter and dimmer, overlapping.

 He sets out a few battery packs in case Hardison needs them. He crosses over to them, or a few steps away, and offers the box. “Here.”

 Parker takes it. Opens it. “Magic chocolate! You found it in the dark!” The small shiny truffles beam up, bathed in candlelight.

 “When’d you buy chocolate?” Hardison takes one. His eyebrows go up. “You got the good kind, too.”

 “Made,” Eliot says, not offended but with an odd little feeling in his chest, a pang that’s not really hurt. “A while ago. Just practicing. There’s some with orange zest, some with pink pepper, some with walnut cream.”

 Hardison looks at him for a minute. Light caresses his cheekbone, the side of his face, the tilt of his head; Eliot wants to touch him. That’s just a want, though, no practical reason; no invitation, anyway.

 In defiance of the want, he says, “I can make a fire, too. If it’s gonna get cold. No telling how long it’ll be out.”

 Parker licks chocolate from a fingertip and looks up. “He didn’t mean he thought you didn’t know how to make chocolate. He meant these are really good.”

 “I know,” Eliot says.

 “Eliot,” Hardison says.

 “I can get more blankets,” Eliot says, “too.”

 “Come here,” Hardison says, and that’s somewhere between an order and a joke, the kind of flippant banter they toss back and forth without thinking; but it’s also the tone that means this is important, you need to listen, something might blow up if you don’t, so Eliot finds himself taking a step that way without thinking, because he trusts Hardison and Parker without hesitation, no matter what might explode.

 Rain drums across the world, over rooftops and streets and balconies. Eliot’s never liked fighting in rain. Too slippery. Unpredictable.

 It’s not bad, sometimes, for concealment. The noisy sheets of water can hide sound and motion, and that can be an advantage. Of course, it’s an advantage for the other side, too.

 Hardison puts an arm around him, folds him in close. The gesture’s fluid, natural, no hesitation about affection. Eliot leans into it because he can’t not, just for a second.

 He’s allowed that much. They’re all comfortable with each other; they have to be, in the field, and they relax that way as well.

 On the couch. In the bed. Because he’s somehow been invited in, touched and kissed and made to feel pleasure, because they asked.

 Someday they’ll stop asking, stop wanting. He gets that. He understands. He won’t ask for anything more than they give.

 But here and now the world’s full of mingled light and dark, and Hardison’s body’s solid and strong and firm, and so Eliot does let himself lean in, a moment like the balance of candlegleam and shadow, suspended between realities. He’s cared for them, the people he loves. He’s found them light and warmth and sugar. That’s all he needs, really. He’s good, knowing that.

 “Eliot,” Hardison says again, and sighs. He’s tipped his head to rest against Eliot’s; his breath brushes Eliot’s hair. “I can hear you thinking about what else you can do.”

 “Someone’s gotta be the competent one,” Eliot mutters. The joke’s half-hearted, and they all let it go.

 Parker slips up on his other side and puts an arm around his waist and one around Hardison’s, which means they’re all now randomly standing in the living room holding each other. Eliot should move, should go check a circuit breaker or make that fire or keep a guard on a window in case this wasn’t a random outage. He doesn’t need comforting.

 He doesn’t move.

 The rain pounds harder over glass windowpanes and roof-tiles and the wood of the balcony railing.

 “We know you love us,” Parker says, eyes all earnest, face all honest. She doesn’t hide from saying it, blunt as ever. “Why don’t you know it? About us?”

 “Because it’s tough.” It’s Hardison who answers, hand touching Eliot’s face, cupping Eliot’s cheek; and Eliot should run, should back away, should take himself out of this circle of affection before he breaks it with clumsy strength and fists and brute force…

 He still doesn’t move.

 “We love you.” Hardison uses the hand to tip Eliot’s face up, and kisses him: a kiss like security, like certainty, like commitment to a plan. The kiss tastes like chocolate and oranges, and Hardison’s mouth’s warm and commanding, not aggressive but confident in the claiming. Eliot does not tremble, because he doesn’t, but it’s so close to everything he wants, too close to fracture-points and breaking joints—

 Hardison draws back. Searches his face. “Eliot, we love you because you’re you. Because you’re the one who always has our backs—”

 “Or our fronts!” Parker adds brightly. “Or our sides, or—”

 “—and you jump in and fight for us, you take hits for us, over and over. And then you come home when we ask, and you find candles when we’re both busy complaining.” Hardison touches Eliot’s mouth, this time. “You know you don’t have to earn it, right?”

 “I’m just here,” Eliot says. “I’m just trying to make everything, y’know, good. What I do. Hit things, fix things, cook things.” Hardison’s fingertip’s distracting. It taps him on the nose, almost a scolding, then brushes his cheekbone, the spot where his eyelashes land when he blinks, the corner of his eye. He absolutely does not want to cry, to beg for more touches, to ask for more words that hold promises.

 “Sometimes, yeah. You do all those things. You do them all for us.” Hardison glances over. “Parker, help me out here.”

 She bounces up to kiss him, swift as a sparrow. Then says, “Tripods are more stable.”

 Eliot blinks. Considers this.

 “Wouldn’t work as well without you,” Hardison contributes. “All three legs. Holding us up. It’s not the two of us plus you, it’s all three of us. Otherwise we’d tip over.”

 Parker makes a gesture that Eliot guesses is meant to illustrate a loss of balance, and agrees, “Boom.”

 “So you get it,” Hardison finishes. “We love you. And you love us. Here, have one of your awesome chocolate things.”

 Eliot starts to protest. Finds himself being hand-fed a truffle, because Hardison’s still holding the box.

 It’s pretty good, he has to admit.

 “Okay,” Hardison says, “come on,” and walks them all back to the couch, and gets them arranged: Eliot squarely in the middle, lying down, being cuddled by them both. He could fight, could resist, could use physical hard-won training to remove himself from the spot.

 They drape arms and legs and body weight over and around him. It’s nice. Grounding. Tangible. His heartbeat steadies. His toes feel warm.

 He dares to wrap an arm around Parker, to hold Hardison a little closer, in turn.

 “Yeah.” Hardison sounds pleased. “Like that. We got you, okay? You don’t have to do anything. You let us do this, right now.”

 “You’re our Eliot,” Parker says, and feeds him another chocolate. This one’s got a hint of pepper, smoky and sweet, and it leaves heat and sugar in his mouth. In his gut. In his chest. A pooling glow.

 The couch is large and sturdy and doesn’t mind holding all three of them as they tangle themselves together. The rain purrs and leaps, cleansing the night. The power might be out for a while, but they’ve got candles, and back-up generators, and batteries, and blankets, and each other.

 They do have each other. Eliot has them, and Parker and Hardison have him too, and so maybe, maybe—

 This can work.

 Tripods are stable, after all.

 He has to clear his throat. “Wouldn’t, um. Wouldn’t want you to tip over. Without me.”

 Parker’s hand strokes his hair. “You won’t let us.”

 “I won’t,” Eliot tells her, tells them. “Never. I’d catch you.”

 “Yep.” Hardison slides a hand under Eliot’s shirt, resting over his stomach, skin to skin. It’s not sexual, not now, at least. Only intimate. Purely present. Feels good there. “We know you would. So let us catch you, too, all right?”

 It’s hard but it’s also simple, effortless, a choice that’s not one. This is right; this feels right. Eliot knows about instincts. And he believes—beyond any doubt—that these two, his partners, will catch him.

 So that’s the answer. It’s the only possible answer. It’s a loosening, an acceptance, sweet as adrenaline and relief. He starts to say, “Yeah,” and barely gets the first sound out before Parker kisses him, and then Hardison kisses him, and together they taste like chocolate and warmth and balance, held secure between the couch and their bodies and golden light and falling rain.

[willowswiththorns]

(Desert Nightmare) x reader

( it’s not really an x reader per say, it’s just having you guys get into the plot of the game. That being said, some shit is about to go down. Also okay so I’ve noticed no fanfics or artwork for this man, like at all. It’s honestly kinda disappointing but eh. This takes place from beginning to end of the game, so I warn you SPOILERS AHEAD. Also, I haven’t written anything in about 2 years. So please , bear with me. That’s it.)

Though the sun blared onto the tinted window, it still left an aching warmth onto your lap as the car drifted down the empty highway. It was such a boring sight when looking out the window, the view only being filled with sand for what looked like miles with no end. The only thing keeping you some sort of comfort was the music blaring into your ears during the long ride.

“ y/n “ a muffled voice could be heard, barely recognizable of your own name. You turn tiredly, a bit annoyed you were thrown into this situation as you made eye contact with Sandra. She’s smile awkwardly, trying to hide her annoyance at you putting your ear buds in rather than complaining with her about missing the biggest party of the summer. You’d raise an eyebrow, seemingly missing a conversation between her and her parents, mostly coming to this observation due to the fact that all three people seemed to be awaiting your response. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a deal breaker in an argument between Sandra and her parents, though that didn’t mean you liked being involved in their family drama at all.

“ uh- I’m sorry, I had my ear buds in. What’s happening?” You’d look at the front of the car as you’d mutter that out the most polite way possible. Audible sighs could be heard from the front, one beside you as Sandra now showed how annoyed she was in the situation. Seeing how you showed that you were now present in this small argument, there wasn’t really any chance of listening to music and zoning out again.

“ I was trying to tell them that I have to stop somewhere to use the bathroom! I’ve been holding it in for hours” the teen whined, letting a small pout show at the parents looked aggravated towards their upset child. You’d smile a bit, not out of humor of the situation, but more out of nervousness, especially when a gas station was seen in the distance past the heatwave.

Instead of having the argument start up again, you’d lean in a bit ,” I sorta have to go too, I’m sorry.” You’d lie, knowing that since you were their child’s friend and not their own, they wouldn’t be inclined to be mad or yell at you. You also didn’t go earlier to be fair as well. You could see the station pull up closer , seeing the father grow tired of his daughter’s complaining the entire ride finally show on his expression. As the car stopped, it didn’t take a second for Sandra to unbuckle and bolt out the car to stretch. You’d sigh, doing the same at a less eager pace. The sun seemed to shine much stronger on your back than it did on your lap in car, most likely due to the tint on the backseat windows. It wasn’t until you finished stretching did you hear the conversation ahead of you.

“ Do you have to stop at every other gas station?” A gruff voice asked, quickly identifying it as Sandra’s father. Though his face wasn’t seen, you could tell he was utterly exhausted from the ride and the treatment his daughter gave him. He’d continue “ I want to reach the next city before it’s dark.” You’d stand awkwardly next to Sandra, who’d seem to take his comment rather negatively.

“ Uncle Rupert will survive if we’re one day late!” You wince a bit at Sandra’s tone, knowing how this conversation would soon go south. “ I don’t know why I came at all! I’m missing the best part of the summer!” She continued.You’d smile awkwardly , trying to diffuse the situation at hand “ Sandra-“ only to be cut off.

“ Life isn’t all about parties, it’s time for you to realize that!” Her mother argued , her tone cutting at the tension more. The only thing to do in the situation was not to be involved, who would be dumb enough to jump into your friend’s family feuds. Slowly gripping your bag, you decide to walk to the gas station, noticing the bathroom wasn’t connected to the station rather it was beside it. With a quick pull, the arguing voices were cut off with the door echoing shut.

You’d sigh, the heat was uncomfortable, especially during the summer. Walking to the sink, you turned the faucet in hopes cold water would steam out. much to your luck, hot water burned at your fingertips when trying to test the water temperature,” shit-“ you’d hiss. The sound of the door opening and slamming quickly caught your attention as an annoyed Sandra came walking in ,” they threatened me- they said I can walk there!-“ you’d tense for a minute.

“ they wouldn’t… you know-“ you’d gulp at the idea of walking miles in the burning heat,” make us walk to the next city right? “ Sandra would scoff at the idea, going to the stall as she’d complain. “ As if, they wouldn’t actually leave us in the middle of no where over a disagreement. That would be messed up! Plus they’d be the ones explaining to your parents about it if you did have to walk with me.” She’d try to joke, trying to uplift your worry as she finished her business.

The must of the bathroom was unbearable as you did your best to wash your hands throughly. It wasn’t long as the bathroom stall creaked open to see Sandra walk out, her expression still a bit upset as she now too went to wash her hands ,” you know, it means a lot you came with me. No one else wanted to miss the biggest party of the summer” she’d joke.

A small smile would twitch up on your face ,” of course, you’re my friend you know? A party is nice but I’d rather be here with you than drinking with some idiots who won’t remember basic human boundaries or morals.” She’d smile a bit, seemingly soothed by your words. It wasn’t long before she was ready to head out.

“ ready?” She’d ask, grabbing her bag as she’d tuck her black hair back behind her ear. Sandra was always the type to be too stubborn to work with others or admit when she’s wrong, but was overall always there for the people she trusted at the end of the day. It was definitely something to grow accustomed to, but you had years of friendship with her to be use to it by now. She was more of an annoying little sister at times, family none the less.

“ yeah, just try to be a bit more bearable to your folks though okay? I know they’re exhausted from all that driving, especially in the heat.” You’d warn, opening the door and looking back at Sandra to try and keep your attention towards her. Though your thoughts shifted at the change of expression on her face. Your back was still faced to where the car would be, ‘did they turn off the car?’ You’d think, not needing to look to notice the lack of motor from the overheating car. Sandra seemed shocked and disgusted as she’d move past you, now you could turn and confirm you and Sandra’s fears.

They were gone.

Oh

No…

As the adrenaline rush kicked in for you, it doubled in Sandra as she’d freak out at the sight of the rustic green van missing. “ what the fuck-“ Sandra was quick to say, going to grab her phone to call her mom only to freak out more. Out of curiosity, you looked at your phone as well. Oh? You were not having any reception on your phone either. A small tremble would form as you’d get a bit antsy, looking down the dusty road to see that no one was there, no car, nothing. So it definitely wasn’t a trick. As you’d slowly make a step towards the road to check your surroundings, Sandra was quick to check the gas station.

The sun blared into your shoulder as you tried to shield your eyes with your hand, trying to look out at your surrounding without getting primarily blinded by the blistering sun. A hand grabbed your shoulder, making you jump a bit as you turned to see a distraught Sandra. “ What’s wrong?” You’d ask calmly, “ Sandra?”

Sandra seemed a bit worried as she’d quickly make her way down the road ,” we have to go to the next city!- they’re probably waiting there for us to prove some dumb lesson!” You’d raise an eyebrow, speed walking to meet up with her. Her pace seemed forced a bit faster than usually, her face written with nervousness.

“ what’s wrong? Why can’t we wait at the gas station for your parents- Sandra come on!” You’d be cut off by Sandra giving you a small glare, obviously frustrated. “ Y/n, I went in there, the station-“ she’d huff before continuing “ it was empty, it looked like it wasn’t occupied in years. Waiting there just screams danger, especially when you don’t know who will stop there!-“

“ okay okay- “ you’d reason, just trying to keep to Sandra’s pace as she’d try to make it to the next city before the sun set. The walk was overall silent, the sound of sneakers hitting the concrete pavement as your eyes quickly focused on a road sign. ‘Dusty Creek - 1 mile ’ “ that town, Dusty Creek? It’ll be less than a mile at this rate” you’d reason. The walk grew more into a race on getting to that Dusty Creek before sun set.

As if it were luck, you both made it to the big wooden sign with the letters ‘ Dusty Creek’ on it. The course of running a mile left you both breathless, though Sandra’s breath seemed to be taken more at the sight of her blue book bag leaning against a wall. She’d be quick to grab it while you’d look around. “ my back pack- y/n how did it get here?!” She’d ask, shocked.

You’d smile , shrugging as you’d grip your own bag ,” I don’t know San, but I’ll go check in this Inn to see if your parents checked in okay? You go look around for their car!-“ She’d go through the bag and nod, not seeming to mind that arrangement. With a swift step, you’d walk into the inn. The room instantly hit a strong smell of pine as you’d step in. Your eyes would meet with papers littered all over a desk behind the counter, the counter itself being neat with a big book open for signing in. Your gaze would then meet towards a girl a bit older than yourself, her eyes cold as she’d let her messy brown hair out of her face so you could get the full glare.

“ um. Hi-“ you’d begin, not use to this kind of hostility,” I’m looking for my friend’s parents, did a married couple with the last name Richmont check in at all? “ you continued, trying to be polite even though the glare of this girl was biting away at you “ nope. “ she’d say bluntly.

Huh?

You’d feel your lip twitch slightly into a small smile, confused now. If Sandra’s parents weren’t actually here , then why was Sandra’s bag against the wall of the inn earlier? “ have you at least seen a green car to drive by here recently?” You’d try to reason before she hit you with a “ no I haven’t.” It was obvious she wasn’t in the mood to talk.

As the tension grew, Sandra came in with a tired expression, quickly catching up as you were given a chance to collect your thoughts. This town was strange for sure, the people didn’t help Change that observation either. It wasn’t until you saw Sandra take out her wallet and pay the chick before getting your attention. You’d be quick to follow her up the stairs, each step creaking softly as you’d whisper to her ,” okay so, any ideas of where your parents could be?” Sandra would look over her shoulder to you before walking to the hotel room ,” they said my parents could be in a pension at the end of the city, knowing them they’re probably going to spend the night. So, I decided to room here for tonight. We’ll share a bed okay? It was cheaper.”

A small sigh would leave your lips, realizing that spacing out earlier caused you to not gather this information first hand. Your attention was cut short as she’d open the door, a small creak cutting the silent air before you both walked in. Putting your bag down, you stretched ,” we can look around a bit to help ease your anxiety “ you’d offer, noticing how tense Sandra was. She’d smile at the offer ,” I do want to check this place out. It’s kind of scary though.”

A small chuckle left your lips gently as you headed to the door ,” oh? You chicken?” You’d tease, knowing how stubborn she can be ,” oh hush! Fine one walk around won’t hurt!” She’d huff, not bother fighting back at all.

With a step, you grabbed her hand and headed out the door.

With that, the journey began…