#//'it appears to run on some sort of electricity'

[heartlaboratory]

Claudia, one of your friends, invited you to attend to her beach volley match. The match is held indoor so, given the fact that its summer and in this country summer is also very humid, temperatures are going to be torrid. Beside this fact you're still quite surprised to see that the majority of the players are playing naked, females too (in this parallel univers human are not ashamed by their own bodies). After all sweating is the best way to cool down. She's quite skinny but look really good with that blue bikini, you always liked her so, secretely, you're very happy to see her playing covered just with air. Given the fact that the playground is going to be free the whole day, organizers decided to complete the tournament without skippying to next day.

Some hours have passed and she has played for a lot of time now. Room temperature went higher than 36°C for the whole last matches and now Claudia looks pretty torn. She's always been a warrior, someone who don't surrender easily but all that jumping in this particular condition had an effect on her too. She's covered by sweat, her skin has assumed a reddish tone and her panting has become so deep anyone can clearly hear her fast inspirations and exales. The thing that tunrs on a light in your mind though is the fact that her entire upper body is rhythmically shaking like it's thrusted by a sort of internal earthquake. You suddenly realize that you recently activated a medical app on your phone developped at the laboratory where you work that makes possible medical analises through the phone camera thanks to experimental sensors placed in the camera. You activate the app and feel pretty lifted up by the fact you already added her profile. A thin ensamble of laser rays, almost invisible, is projeced towards her and the selected target orgal (obviously Claudia's heart) becomes visible on the screen. Her heart is beating like crazy, not only considering the pace but also the strenght of each beat, the app says her heart is beating at around 195 bpm but it's probably even higher. It's something that is completely out of any safety zone for someone who is 34 years old... and not even a younger person should push its heart like this. The device can also work as a digital stethoscope and by wearing headphones to listen to her you remained schoked. Her blood is pushed so violently that it's making strange wooshing-like noises by rubbing against her heart internal structures, sounds that almost cover up her slamming valves. Suddenly the software gives a diagnosis: High cardiac risk- probability of a sudden cardiac arrest of 89%-potentially lethal arrhythias occurring. By looking at her detected heart electrical activities, her organ is so over-stimulated that PVCs and VTACs burst are already present. You know exactly what to do, Claudia's life has an 89% probability to end in the next few minutes and it's increasing. You decide to get up from your seat and run towards the referee to show him the analysis of your device. One of the players' heart is going to stop very soon.

A second before you move, on the ecg a strange beat appears and suddenly Claudia's heart interrupts any activity, it doesn't even fibrillate, it just ceases to beat as silence arises from your headphones. Terrified you see her taking a couple of deep breath, the ball she was holding fell on the ground and her left hand is placed in between her bare breasts... after a moment she collapses on the ground.

You have always wanted to place your hand on her chest to feel her heartbeat but now you have to do this to make it beat again. CPR has to be started immediately.

[stuffeddeer]

It's late.

Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.

It's late. You're probably asleep.

He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.

The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.

You're asleep. It's late.

He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.

If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.

With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.

Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.

He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.

If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.

Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.

Dazai turns into the bathroom.

You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.

It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?

His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.

You're asleep.

Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.

Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.

His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.

A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?

He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-

Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.

Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....

Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - A Simulation

author note: ... so this got out of hand and ended up being over 6500 words x-x really curious to see how you guys like it and react to the twist. i'm so anxious if you guys will enjoy it that i can't even right my usual rambly A/N!!

characters: Idia Shroud x GN!Reader, Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Slam.

You sighed.

The sound of quarrelling which, through Ramshackle’s thin walls, sounded like it could be happening right next door to you.

The sound of a quiet but stern lecture, a voice full of authority that would not stand being questioned.

You rolled over in bed and checked the time on your phone. 7:00 am. On a Saturday. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach and buried your face in your pillow – not the best quality but comfortable enough – as Grim snored, spread out at the foot of the bed. You were pretty sure he could sleep through a hurricane.

Just why had you agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay here, again? Perhaps it was masochism?

But that didn’t do Vil any justice. He had warned you that tenacity was Pomefiore’s thing.

The morning after Vil had grandly declared that he had moved in was… Something. The best way you could describe it was that it played out like a fever dream. You had hoped it was, actually. You kept pinching yourself, hoping you’d wake up any moment. Of course, you didn’t.

You had woken the next morning to Vil knocking on your door. He was rather insistent, as he didn’t leave even when you ignored his knockings in favour of burying yourself further into the warm comfort of your bed. Finally, you dragged yourself out of bed and ripped open the door, glaring bleary eyed at Vil, who stood looking annoyingly immaculate for so early in the morning.

“I’ve prepared us some breakfast. I see you need time to get ready, but please do hurry. I have a schedule to keep.” Vil informed you, not even waiting for your response as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall. You grumbled and slammed the door shut, reeling both from the early morning veiled insult and the fact that somehow Grim had slept through it all, still snoring away peacefully on your bed.

You readied yourself as quickly as you could but took an extra few moments to smooth out your appearance more than you usually would. You’d be sitting opposite Vil Schoenheit after all, and you could really do without his comments this early in the morning.

You walked down to the lounge to see that Vil had indeed set the table up for breakfast. Mismatched bowls filled with yoghurt, berries, and some sort of… Seeds? A jug of orange juice also sat on the table, just enough for one glass each, along with a heartier jug filled to the brim with water. You had to admit, you hadn’t had such a healthy, well put together breakfast since you got there. Most days you had to forgo your breakfast entirely in order to stop Grim terrorising the school population before first period began. If this was Vil’s charm offensive, you could get behind it.

“This was the best I could do with your dorm’s… Limited implements,” Vil sighed as he drizzled a modest serving of honey on his own bowl of yoghurt before pushing the honey container towards you, “I would have brought my blender but I wasn’t if Ramshackle had running electricity.” Vil commented dryly, “does Crowley not ensure you have the needed facilities to live adequately? That man is shameless.”

Now this was a conversation you could get behind.

“Crowley doesn’t ensure anything ever.” You grumbled as you drizzled some honey onto your own yoghurt bowl under the watchful eye of Vil. The amount you put must have been satisfactory because he didn’t say anything, only began to mix his spoon in his own bowl.

“The prize money from the SDC would help change that. You could get yourself better kitchenware, maybe some more soft furnishings…” Vil began, and you rolled your eyes as you munched on some berries. Nice segway.

“Not interested.” You responded bluntly, although Vil didn’t seem too surprised by that. He picked up the orange juice jug, pouring you a glass first before filling his own, as manners would dictate. “Why are you so against the NRC Tribe staying here? You only stand to gain from doing so. Whilst there may be a bit of disruption, I’ve assured you that I would keep disruption to your routine to a minimum. I must say… I do find your stalwart refusal a little odd.” Vil stared hard at you now, and you tried not to visibly squirm from the intensity that he was studying you.

It seemed that all your efforts to not bring attention to yourself were doing the exact opposite in this situation. Vil found your behaviour odd, and Ace and Deuce had also found your behaviour odd when you didn’t attend the Pomefiore ballroom when you were requested to do so. It was rather annoying, actually, how all your hard work to be as unnoticeable as possible was turning out to be fruitless.

But if there was one thing you could rely on for a believable defence, it was the inherent selfishness of the Night Raven College students (and arguably, staff).

“Why should I go out of my way to help you? Regardless of what you offer, it sounds like a pain. I have to accommodate seven extra students? On top of all the trouble I get from Grim anyway? Sounds like a drag. Plus I enjoy having my own space.” You quipped back, your expression indifferent.

“Hmph. It seems like you fit in here more than you think.” Vil shot back sassily, an elegant eyebrow raised at your open self-centeredness.

All throughout breakfast you and Vil had an unproductive back and forth where he tried to gain some ground on getting the training camp to go ahead in Ramshackle. It was exhausting, but you managed to hold out long enough that breakfast was over and there was no reason to stay at the table any longer, for either of you. You were just leaving the lounge when there was a energetic knock on Ramshackle’s main doors. You sighed, wondering why someone else was now knocking on your door, but for all you knew it could be Ace and Deuce, wanting to walk with you to class. That reminded you that you needed to get Grim up too. Reluctantly, you walked towards the entrance, pulling one of the creaky doors open.

“Bonjo—”

You slammed the door shut.

“That was rude. Rook is here to walk with me to class. He also is delivering my blender.” Vil scolded, having followed you partially to the entrance, obviously predicting that it was Rook. You groaned loudly regardless of this, bumping your forehead lightly against the entrance door’s old wood. You had to deal with Rook Hunt now too? This was getting out of hand.

Grudgingly, you pulled open the door again, not bothering to mask your expression of displeasure as you stared at Rook, who stood with his usual enigmatic smile on your doorstep, with a blender tucked carefully under his arm.

“Ahh Trickster! How delightful your disgruntled expression looks first thing in the morning! Magnifique! Like a raging storm cloud threatening the blue skies! And Roi de Poison, as radiant as ever! Like the brightest of suns in comparison! Oh, how I wish I could burn this image into my mind forevermore!” Rook enthusiastically sang, and it was as if you could feel your mood plummeting in real time.

“Oh give it a rest…” You muttered under your breath, having to duck out of the way as Vil breezed past you and grabbed the blender off of Rook. “Yes, that is quite enough of that, Rook. There is no cloud on this earth that could threaten my shine.” Vil commented, disappearing back into Ramshackle to no doubt deposit his blender in the kitchen. “Of course not, beautiful Vil!” Rook eagerly agreed.

Now why were you catching back handed insults from both Pomefiore housewardens?!

You grumbled under your breath about this, but Rook didn’t seem to mind or care. He continued to smile at you, watching you with those ever-observing eyes.

“You seem agitated, Trickster! But might I say, you do look beautiful this morning. A fine colour to your cheeks and a wicked glint in your eye! I see that your shared breakfast with Vil has done wonders for your complexion and spirit already.” Rook continued, managing to look harmless and sly at the same time. Quite the feat.

How exactly did he know that you had breakfast with Vil?! Had he been watching you? You cursed internally, swearing to yourself that you’d buy some thick curtains for Ramshackle out of your next allowance. But knowing Rook, that wouldn’t be enough.

Instead, you glare at Rook and point a finger at him, which he watches with glee, as if he is enjoying the situation. “Stop talking.” You say firmly, and he holds his hands up genially, not at all offended at your shortness. In your opinion, Rook Hunt was a whole valid reason on why you didn’t want the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle.

“Rook, it’s time for us to go. I don’t want to be late.” Vil declared as he strode out of Ramshackle, and you had to agree with Rook in that the run down exterior of Ramshackle didn’t take away from Vil’s shine in the slightest. It was quite amazing, and also kind of irritating. “You should leave shortly too, being late would be unbecoming of a dorm Prefect.” Vil sniped over his shoulder at you as he began to leave with Rook. Rook gave you a hearty parting wave, “farewell, Trickster! I do hope to be sharing a dorm with you soon!”

Not at all ominous, thank you Rook.

“And don’t forget about Grim.” Vil called, not even bothering to turn towards you as he continued on in the direction of Night Raven’s main school building.

Oh, damn it. Grim! You rushed back upstairs, on a mission to get Grim out of bed and out of Ramshackle before you were late and Crewel chewed you both out again.

After that, Vil was a semi-permanent fixture at Ramshackle. He would return in the evenings, no doubt after running the NRC Tribe ragged during practice, and then he would put you through your paces. He’d critique most of the things you did, and it wasn’t like his words of advice were unhelpful, it just didn’t help that they were delivered with the trademark Schoenheit sass. More often than not you were left reeling because he delivered his flyby judgments with such poise and poison, you were suddenly gaining a new appreciation for poor Epel.

Eventually you relented and agreed to allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle until the SDC, but under very strict conditions. You would be receiving Vil and Rook’s share of the prize money if they won. You were not to be disturbed under any circumstances by the members of the NRC Tribe, and they were strictly forbidden from entering your bedroom. Groceries would be provided for the duration of the training camp. You also made it clear that you would not be responsible for any shenanigans that Grim pulled off during their stay, so not to even bother pestering you about it. And lastly, you would not be attending the SDC.

It was a difficult decision for you to make, but you realised that with Vil hounding you about allowing the NRC Tribe to stay, you were perhaps interacting with Vil way more than you potentially would during book five’s story path. A foul thought crossed your mind, Vil overblotting because negotiating with you had eaten into his preparation time for the SDC. At least with these conditions, you effectively minimised your role in book five to pretty much nothing, and if book five’s story decided to run its course like normal, then it was nothing to do with you.

Vil had stared at you with a knowing look when you first came to him telling him that you would agree for the training camp to go ahead, but his face slowly fell into a judging frown once you got to the end of your conditions.

“You don’t want to see your friends perform at the SDC? You do realise this is one of the biggest events of the school calendar? There might not ever be another opportunity for you to witness such a spectacle, let alone one that your friends are performing in. Not to mention… They’ve been working so hard.” Vil questions you, his tone almost scolding, and his eyes wrought with curiosity as to why you’d be so callous to the two who you’d known the longest since arriving here.

You kept your expression indifferent, giving an excuse that loud spectacles weren’t your thing. You did feel bad that you would miss Ace and Deuce’s big moment, but there was no way you could allow yourself to get dragged into a potential overblot situation again.

Of course, all of that felt meaningless now, considering that they weren’t even complying with the conditions that you had set out.

You could vaguely hear Ace complaining to Deuce about having to be up so early despite Vil technically giving them the morning off, whatever that meant. You hoped that the voices would eventually die down and you could get a couple hours more sleep, but the banging, thumping and voices went on and on. You even attempted to pass sometime by playing around on some mobile games that you had downloaded, a guilty pleasure that was a temptation too hard to resist when Crowley gave you the phone. But the noise never abated, and with a disgruntled sigh you got out of bed and decided to get ready for the day.

It felt weird being on campus so early in the morning on the weekend. It was mostly empty, which you assumed had to do with most students forgoing breakfast to sleep in, although there were a few early risers milling around campus. Some were heading towards the gates, likely heading out to town, whilst others made their way to the many other facilities that Night Raven had to offer. You yourself had decided to visit the mystery shop on a whim, thinking you could pick up a snack or two for during your breaks at the library.

You were walking up the path towards the shop when some… Large boxes came floating out the door… You stopped in your tracks, blinking several times. Were you that tired that you were seeing things now?

“Sorry Prefect, I don’t want to accidentally bump you!” Said a chipper voice coming from behind the boxes, startling you and making you hop out of the way. Behind the boxes was one Ortho Shroud, and suddenly the floating made sense. Not so much the boxes, though.

“Ah, my brother got a little caught up yesterday and forgot to do his usual food order, so I came to the mystery shop to pick up a few supplies to tide us over!” Ortho told you as he saw you eyeing up the boxes in his arms in confusion. He floated towards you where you stood off the path, and gently placed the boxes down, and they were nearly as tall as you were! Just a few supplies?!

“What are you playing?” Ortho asked enthusiastically, and you belatedly realised that you had one of the mobile games you had downloaded open on your phone, and muscle memory made you want to close it down immediately, but Ortho’s big, excited eyes made you feel too guilty to do so.

“Oh, uh… It’s just a game I downloaded, I don’t know much about it…” You fielded awkwardly, hoping to brush the topic away but Ortho only floated closer to get a better look at the screen.

“My brother plays that one too!!” Ortho gushes with glee, the sudden burst of elation catching you a little off guard. Really? This didn’t seem like Idia’s type of game… You swear you vaguely remember him saying he wasn’t that into dating sims… Although, you did suppose this one wasn’t a conventional dating simulator at the very least.

“But what happened to your screen?” Ortho asked, ripping you out of your thoughts, his head tilting to the side curiously. Now that did make you lock your phone to attempt to hide your shamefully cracked phone screen. Kalim, that’s what happened, you thought dryly. “Oh it’s nothing,” you said quickly, “I just had a small accident with it. It still works just fine!”

“Let’s get my brother to fix it!”

Oh no.

Ortho was beaming at you, eyes sparkling at the idea. You could feel your heart sinking.

“Oh no, no. I wouldn’t want to bother him! It’s totally fine, I promise!” You said hurriedly, hoping to derail the idea and make a quick escape, but it seemed like the idea had already firmly taken root in Ortho’s brain.

“It wouldn’t be a bother! My brother is really good with machines, he’ll get it fixed in no time! Plus, you two can talk about that game together! I’m sure he’d love to know there was someone else on campus who likes the same game as him!” Ortho encouraged.

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Book six had Ortho really encouraging Idia to share his gaming interests with the other students at Night Raven. Considering that the Ignihyde chapter was the next in line after book five, it did make sense that Ortho was taking this coincidence and running with it, considering you had just made it a thousand times easier for him to do so by just happening to like the same game as his beloved brother.

… But how were you supposed to say no to those eyes?! How were humanoids allowed to have such heart wrenching eyes?! It wasn’t fair.

You chewed on your bottom lip in indecision. It would be useful to get your phone screen fixed, even to stop Vil’s sassy barbs that he kept firing at you whenever he caught sight of it (something something “your belongings are a reflection of you” something something, blah blah). And this was Idia you were talking about here. He would probably freak out as soon as Ortho brought you to his room, fix the phone as quickly as possible and kick you out. Win, win?

“Okay, sure.” You relented, watching as Ortho lit up even more at your positive response. You swear you saw his hair get brighter. “But I can’t stay for long, I have other things planned for today.” You stated firmly, giving yourself an escape plan if needed. Ortho still seemed delighted regardless, moving once again to pick up those ridiculously large boxes he had been carrying. You followed suit, picking up the box from the top of the pile, much to Ortho’s surprise.

“It’s okay, I can carry them!” Ortho assured, but you shook your head, adjusting your grip on the box. It was a little heavy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “Nah, I can’t let you carry them all by yourself. Besides, this is the least I can do if you’re going to fix my phone for me.” You remarked casually, beginning to walk with Ortho towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“You’re very kind, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, seeming quite taken with your courteous gesture.

The walk to the Hall of Mirrors from the mystery shop wasn’t long, and as you stepped through the Ignihyde mirror, you realised that you’ve never actually really seen the inside of the Ignihyde dorm. Sure, the game lets you buy Ignihyde backgrounds such as the entrance and the lounge, and you can get Idia’s dorm room as a background on his birthday, but other than that, the Ignihyde dorm has largely been a mystery compared to the other dorms. You had no idea what to expect.

It was… Very white. And shiny. Kinda made you wish you had brought a pair of sunglasses. The hallways were deserted, and you felt like you stood out like a sore thumb. You suddenly started to feel uneasy about the whole thing.

You followed closely behind Ortho as he led you to Idia’s dorm room, not trusting yourself not to get lost. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, even with the boxes he was carrying partially obscuring his view.

“Ortho, are you sure this is okay?” You asked, unable to hide the unease in your voice. Ortho didn’t stop, continuing to float along the hallways and making turns where necessary. “Don’t worry, Prefect! It’ll be fun! We’re almost there!” He insisted, and you very much felt that you and Idia were about to be in for a very unfun time. Ortho suddenly turned and opened a door that you would have missed if it wasn’t for him, as it blended into the wall so well.

“Idia, I’m back!” Ortho announced, floating in nonchalantly. You followed awkwardly, managing to bump the door closed behind you and place the box you were carrying on top of the other ones that Ortho had left by the wardrobe.

You took a moment to glance around the room. It wasn’t… As messy as you thought it would be. Wow, the background you can buy in the game really doesn’t do it any justice. That or Ortho cleaned up.

“Ah Ortho! Come check this out! I finally beat the final boss in that boss rush and got some cool new— Gah!!”

Idia had swivelled in his chair to look at Ortho but saw you instead and almost tumbled straight out of it with the way he flinched backwards, face morphing into terror. You gave him a small smile and waved awkwardly, but that only seemed to make it worse.

“I invited someone over!” Ortho stated cheerfully as Idia ducked behind the high back of his chair to avoid being seen. Rather fruitlessly too, considering you could still see his characteristic flaming hair.

“I-I can see that, Ortho! W-w-why did you invite an extrovert into my room?!” Idia complained, trying to keep his voice low but not really succeeding. The interaction was so odd to watch that you wondered if you should leave but settled for looking away instead. Ortho didn’t seem bothered at all, smiling at Idia like nothing was wrong.

“This is the Prefect from Ramshackle! I ran into them at the mystery shop, and they helped me carry our shopping back! Wasn’t that kind of them?” Ortho rambled on, floating over to his brother. Idia seemed to pluck up the courage to peek over his chair to get a better look at you, prompted by Ortho’s words, but when you looked back towards him, he shot back down in his chair, the ends of his wispy hair turning bright pink.

Wait, was he blushing?

“B-but Ortho…” Idia stammered out, but it seemed that Ortho had no mercy for him today.

“The Prefect’s phone screen is broken, and I told them that you could help fix it!” Ortho piped up over Idia’s stammering, his smile taking no prisoners, “you can help them, right Idia? Something so simple won’t even take you ten minutes.” Ortho encouraged, beaming smile still on his face.

Talking tech seemed to kick Idia out of his fluster somewhat, and you could hear Idia’s back thump against his chair as he opened one of his desk drawers and started rifling through it. “Tch, typical normies with no protection on their device, then crying when it gets bodied. So noob coded…” Idia muttered under his breath like he’d forgotten you were right there as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling the kit he was looking for out of his drawer and placing it on his desk.

Ouch.

He pushed his keyboard back, assumedly making space to him to work. “Gimme. The quicker I fix it, the quicker they leave, right?”

“Prefect isn’t a normie! They play the same game as you!” Ortho retorted and you cringed, as you sincerely hoped that wouldn’t get brought up into conversation before you could leave. But apparently, Ortho had taken it upon himself to defend your honour from his brother. Lucky you.

“Show him, Prefect!” Ortho compelled you, and you would almost find it funny how he was basically strong-arming Idia to have an interaction if it didn’t involve you. You sighed internally, powerless to Ortho’s big eyes, and walked slowly towards Idia’s desk, loading the game up on your phone. You held it up, arm outstretched so you didn’t get too close and give the guy a heart attack.

“It’s this one. I don’t play much, but this is the game I play the most. I at least make sure to login every day to get the bonuses and stuff…” You mumbled awkwardly, not actually understanding why you felt so awkward either. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. But suddenly your phone was snatched from your hand, and you were startled to see that Idia had grabbed it.

“You play this too?! I’m so into this at the moment. How far are you in the story? What cards do you have? Who is your favourite? Ugh, this screen totally kills the vibe. Hang on, let me just…”

You blinked in surprise as Idia rapidly fired off multiple questions about the game at you before putting your phone on his desk and hunching over as he got to work. It was like he was a completely different person. You knew it was the case that he could become very lively when he got to talk about his hobbies and interests, but seeing it happen in person was… Truly something. You looked between him and Ortho, with Ortho looking absolutely delighted about the interaction, and gesturing for you to take a seat on Idia’s bed whilst he worked.

“Oh, uh… I’m not very far in the story, I cleared the prologue but that’s about it. I don’t get the chance to play often… I don’t get many chances to roll the gatcha either, I never have any currency…” You answered. You didn’t really know any of the characters well enough to say what cards you had or who your favourite was, so you kept quiet on that.

“Sounds like you’re still in noobville. I’ll teach you how to play, but first I have to… Whee hee hee…” Idia volunteered, his voice pittering out as he got more entranced on working with your phone. The room lulled into silence, and you began conversing with Ortho instead, random giggles and mumbles from Idia in the background as you and Ortho chatted. Midway through one of your conversations with Ortho you noticed that Idia had been working on your phone for way longer than ten minutes. Now, you had no idea how long it took to replace a phone screen, you were no engineer. You also factored in that Ortho could have just been bigging up his brother’s ego when he said it would only take him ten minutes, but did it really take that long to fix? It felt like you had been in here way over an hour…

Ortho was projecting some clips of his favourite video games when Idia finally swivelled around, brandishing your phone with a manic grin.

“The freshly refurbished Prefect Custom Gamer Deluxe! I replaced the screen and reinforced it so it won’t break again but still has high grade touch screen sensitivity. I upgraded the battery to a larger capacity model so that you can game for longer, and of course a 2TB memory card. The original memory was awful, where did you get it? Sam’s bargain basket? Kek.” Idia gushed about your newly juiced mobile, fully in his element, “I didn’t know what your preferred colours are, so I didn’t add any custom lights. Blue’s good, though.” He commented, and that is when he finally caught you blinking at him, staring rather blankly.

“… Did you get any of that? Sigh, noobs OTL…”

You didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you quickly snapped yourself out of vacant stare and quickly spoke, “I think so… It means I won’t have to delete anything to update my games anymore, right?”

That seemed to be enough, because he was smiling that startingly sharp toothed grin again. “Exactly.”

The room fell into silence again, with Idia seeming to realise that he’d burst out into a rave about his interests. He held out your phone towards you awkwardly for you to take, and you stepped forward quickly to take it, but Ortho was faster.

“Show the Prefect your cards on the game you both play!” Ortho insisted cheerfully but forcefully, clearly not willing to let this interaction between you and Idia ends just yet. You don’t know if it was because it was a game, or because he had been suitably warmed up from the tech talk, or Ortho’s wide, eager eyes. Maybe even a combination of all three, but either way, Idia agreed.

“So… Uh… Did you hear all the aggro online about what’s happened?” Idia muttered as he waited for his game to boot up. It booted up a lot faster than yours usually did. Is that what he did to your phone? If so, you weren’t going to complain.

 “Can’t say I have…” You answered honestly, and Idia scoffed lightly under his breath. “Oh right. I forgot you’re a casual.”

Why did it sting when he said it like that?!

Idia spent some time giving you some tips on free ways to get in game currency so you could roll on the gatcha more, and even recommended some social media accounts you could follow to get information on future events so that you could plan your resources and gatcha rolling accordingly. It was… Pretty helpful, actually. It was oddly nice to just chat innocently about a hobby for once, instead of constantly having to have your guard up in case someone tried to screw you over.

Idia made you boot up the game on your own phone (which you were pleasantly surprised to notice loaded up just as quickly as his own) and took a look through your card collection. He wasn’t impressed (“do you even statgrind?”) but gave you some advice regardless on who your best cards were and the more effective way to power them up, so you didn’t get locked out of the story when you progressed.

“Now show them your cards, Idia!” Ortho suggested yet again. You hadn’t missed his thrilled expression as you and Idia had been chatting, realising that he was likely delighted that Idia was talking to someone in person for once. But he was being awfully pushy about Idia showing you his card collection, even when the conversation didn’t need to be facilitated by him…

The tips of Idia’s hair went bright pink yet again, and you couldn’t resist raising a brow. What was he so embarrassed about? They were just cards, right? Idia tucked his chin in, turning his screen away suddenly. “I-I-I don’t know, my collection is pretty a-average…”

“No way! You have so many cards, show them!” Ortho tugged on Idia’s arm, with Idia trying to hide his phone in his lap, “or I’ll just project your cards for the Prefect to see!”

Idia sat up straight, looking very panicked at Ortho’s oddly specific threat. “O-okay, okay! Let me just…” He tapped away at his phone, and you had no idea what he was doing, but eventually he turned the screen back to you, showing you his card collection in all its glory.

Wow. He had tons of SSR cards. Even some UR cards… By the look of it, he seemed to only go for the ultra-rare cards of the same characters, so they must be his favourites. You looked at his card collection, nodding appreciatively and making a comment here and there, but otherwise you didn’t really have much to say. Idia’s hair was still tinged pink, and even his cheeks had an awkward half blush for reasons that escaped you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw Ortho staring at you rather insistently, as if he was urging you to keep the conversation going. Just why were you allowing yourself to be exhorted by this kid? Clearly, Ortho Shroud’s powers of compulsion know no bounds.

“Who is your favourite character?” You blurted out, hoping that would satisfy. To your surprise, Idia’s hair burned brighter, the pink flaring up at your question.

“O-oh, um… I-i… I can’t show you, because of… You know, all that aggro online…” Idia mumbled under his breath, looking down at his lap. What was up with him?

Either way, now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Tell me about the drama.” You asked, although you supposed it came out sounding more like a demand. Idia looked up at you suddenly, staring at you for a long moment, “… a-are you sure? It’s pretty long…” He mumbled, and you nodded anyway. Perhaps this would finally satisfy Ortho and then you could make your exit.

Idia’s demeanour entirely changed again, his elbows landing on his knees and he leaned towards you, his hands caging his phone. “This has been big news in the community. Like, God tier discourse. Everyone has come together to try to figure out what is going on, scrubs and tryhards alike. People have been mining the data files, I’ve tried hacking the serv—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stopped him, waving your hands to get him to slow down, “tell me what happened before you talk fandom dramatics.” Idia rolls his eyes but acquests.

“So a couple of months ago, something happened to the game. I’m not talking a limited time event or anything like that. I’m talking one day, every logged in for the next daily login period, and a character was missing.” Idia informed you, and you raised your eyebrows at this.

“Like, gone?” You questioned, and Idia nodded, frantically enough that his wispy hair bounced a little. You scratched your cheek, finding yourself slightly intrigued in this despite just doing it to get Ortho off your back. “I don’t think I follow what you mean…” You admitted, almost a little sheepishly, “how can a character just be gone? Wouldn’t you still have their cards?”

Idia, to his credit, didn’t seem to be bothered by you not following, only nodding along eagerly with your train of thought. “Right? But that is where it gets even weirder…” Idia begins to tap at his phone again, changing the filters on his card collection before turning the screen back towards you again, “because the cards are still there, but the character is missing.”

The sight was eerie, almost ominous. You deduced this character must be one of Idia’s favourites, considering how many cards he had, all maxed out. It made sense why he was so invested. But the cards themselves, they were…

Empty.

The cards were still there, in his collection. The background of the cards was still visible, even the other characters that appeared in the art were still there. But the character the card belonged to? Gone. Just an odd, inky smudge left in their place.

“That’s…” You couldn’t finish your thought, finding yourself at a loss for words at the bizarre, oddly chilling sight.

“Right?!” Idia hissed, really getting into the conversation now.

“Surely it must be some sort of event, right? Something to do with the story?” You tried to reason, and Idia shook his head wildly.

“That’s what we all thought, at first! Maybe they were springing some big event on us that none of the info trading accounts had managed to dig up. Sure it was a bit early for a Halloween event, GG developers, but it wasn’t like that hasn’t happened before.” You nodded along to Idia’s logic, this was exactly what you had assumed. The creepy feel of the cards definitely gave a Halloween vibe.

“But the official game pages never posted anything about it. And they weren’t responding to comments or messages about it either. So, we started to wonder if it was an update gone wrong, or a bug, and the devs were going to patch it. But still, we heard nothing from any official channels.”

You were staring at Idia, transfixed by this odd phenomenon. You’d never had anything of the sort happen in any of the games you had ever played, that’s for sure.

Idia’s cheeks flared a little pinker as he continued, “I-i have every one of that character’s cards, so I was able to check that it wasn’t just one card that had the issue, it was all of them. Other players reported the same issues, so that’s how we knew it was a game wide issue. The devs finally issued a statement, some vague BS about how they would be troubleshooting some issues with the game but not exactly what they were trying to fix. I personally think the devs have no clue what’s going on. Which is stupid, who doesn’t know what’s happening with their own software? Is it amateur hour over in that studio…” Idia finished, starting to mutter under his breath.

You mulled all this information over. Wow, clearly fandom drama in Twisted Wonderland was way more over the top than in your world.

“That’s really… Wow.” You hummed, which you thought summed up the situation quite well. You were pondering over it, eyes back on your own phone as you opened your card collection back up. You guessed you hadn’t noticed because you hadn’t rolled any of that specific character’s cards in the gatcha. You were kind of grateful, actually. It probably would have given you a fright.

“Uh…” You heard Idia hum, and you looked up at him, seeing him watching you with an apprehensive expression, “I have something to show you, if you want to… See… But you might find it weird…” He said slowly, his posture more hunched than before.

“Oh, okay?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. You wondered if you were making him uncomfortable and had overstayed your welcome, considering Idia was starting to become more withdrawn again. His social battery was probably starting to go flat. You’d leave after this, you decided. Maybe quicker, if he was going to show you something really weird.

“The character is gone from the game’s cards, but they still appear in promotional materials that were posted online. Do you… Want to see?” Idia asked hesitantly, and whilst you found the way he asked the question a little odd, you had no reason to decline.

“Sure, why not? I feel like I’m invested now.” You smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back, only turned his gaze to Ortho. “Ortho, can you project the promotional art?”

“Easy! Searching promotional art… Loading… And, done!”

… … …

You felt your blood run cold instantly and you couldn’t stop the look of petrified horror that froze upon your face.

Projected onto the muted walls of Idia’s bedroom, in crystal clear clarity, was the promotional art of the character that Idia had been telling you about, just as he had asked Ortho to do. There was no inky smudge replacing their appearance, and they were posed rather dramatically, the norm for promo art. But something about it had your heart stopping in your chest and your hands trembling in your lap…

The promotional art…

The promotional art looked exactly like you.

[chocsra]

✧ more personal chuuya hcs !!

✧ appearence hcs:

has a small small face

long, naturally curled, luscious eyelashes

soft and silky ass hair

very smooth, soft looking ivory skin

repping mestiso community, described as beautiful and unique

he actually glows in like any good lighting, golden hour does him best

his beauty is like majestic but gets called pretty a lot

bones did him soo wrong, he has toned sleeper build guys trust

naturally low-lided, sleepy eyes

he has really pretty brown eyes

has russet hair, NOT a ginger, he's more of a reddish brunette

slim, large hands that are really attractive

SNATCHED waist

he has a few pretty freckles

old money aesthetic

90s hot.

my personal hc is that his appearence comes from some sort of european descent, be it french or spanish blood that made his features so unique

looks so unreal that he looks otherworldly or like a doll; alien beauty

his skin reminds you of porcelain; this man's skin is mad flawless

ties his hair up at home into either a manbun or ponytail

has an 8+ step skincare routine..

has a super raspy voice in the morning/night

always takes his gloves off in the cuntiest manner - either biting the fingertips off one by one or that one manga panel where he bites the wrist part

whines when he stretches and it always catches u off guard

✧ crack/general hcs:

dances like hyunjin from skz (knows how to and practices his moonwalk)

bro is a WHEEZER when he genuinely laughs, he also feels the need to say ur not funny to keep ur ego in check when he is in fact laughing his ass off

when yall are laughing ur ass off (drunk or not) just know yall will be collasping on the floor feeling the six pack coming in

rip chuuya - you would've loved making electric guitar thirst traps on tiktok

he LOVES rollarcoasters or anything with a kick to it tbh (fast car or motorcycle rides) bc he loves gravity dzuh, but yknow what he CANT take??

them seats in the movie theatre where they move according to the movie, he gets way too invested in movies and the seats moving like crazy fries his brain (IM SORRY IF U DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING AB, THEYRE CALLED DBOX)

he ofc has a weakness for dogs but if he ever tries to feed a stray cat and it runs away or hisses he gets a little sassy and hisses back

sleeps like a dying victorian child. you walked onto him sleeping once and contemplated on calling a priest

one of those people who have copies of the same clothing item, or they're like barely any different. you see his hat rack and he gets offended bc "all his hats are completely different"

he scoffs a lot

starts chasing you if you ever MENTION the times when he was 15 (has made cringy youtube diss tracks with dazai, lost the login, now that videos up forever..)

if you're short like him and tell a story complaining about how ppl call u short, he gets personally offended FOR you

likes reading books but they vary from sophisticated novels to books like "HOW TO STAND ON BUSINESS?!?!"

his spice tolerance is wild, even if he can't actually take it he still will to prove a point

since his voice is pretty guttural whenever he has a voice crack while speaking you both pause and look at each other in silence before you laugh and he just goes "shut up.. shut up.. 😒"

he likes to mock ppl (lovingly) w higher voices like higuchi (especially when shes talking ab aku) bc it's older brother vibes and their reactions are always priceless

✧ chocsra™

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 12)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”

She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.” 

It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.

You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.

You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. 

The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t. 

You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you. 

           They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh. 

Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.

It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing. 

It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing. 

Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced. 

The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —

‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’

You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes. 

It hurt.

—

Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop. 

Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew. 

Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven? 

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”

“Executioners?” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up. 

Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest. 

Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains — or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path. 

The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch. 

It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned. 

And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took. 

It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand. 

You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea. 

Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had Dejá vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes. 

You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required. 

For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely. 

You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady. 

Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle. 

As were the eyes that were upon you. 

As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

—

Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods. 

She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point. 

Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility. 

It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar. 

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx

Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.

[kelcemenow]

Personal Foul.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2103

Warnings Some strong language, mentions of violence and a big old fluffy Travis.

This anon request came through a while ago and now that I'm pretty much finished with Touchdown, I thought I would finish this to a place where I'm happy. I hope you like it! "I’m so glad you did my request absolutely loved it!! I have another request hahah fic x reader where Travis is playing and another player says a comment about the reader that makes Travis go crazy protective mode and ends up getting ejected from the game"

You settled in your seat close to the side-lines of the field at Arrowhead Stadium. The Chiefs were facing the Bengals for their first game of the season and even though it hadn’t started yet, the atmosphere was electric. You clutched at your cold beer, looking around at the sea of red and gold that was surrounding you.

Your sister, Karly, snuggled up next to you, “Oh my God, we’re super close!”

You breathed in the air, “Yeah, Travis sorted these out for us.”

“I can’t wait to see him play, apparently he’s really good.”

You smirked at her, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, he’s pretty decent.”

The noise grew louder and your eyes snapped to the field, watching for your new boyfriend to emerge onto the grass. Your seat rumbled as the announcer called his name and the thousands of people in the stadium roared for him. You were filled with an immense feeling of excitement and adoration for him, proud to call him yours.

Your heart fluttered as he jogged out, lifting his arms to encourage more noise from the fans. You smiled as he stopped to dance in the end-zone, hopefully a taste of what was to come during the game. Travis placed his hand to his lips and then raised it towards the stands, something he said he would do for you. You caught your breath knowing that you were on his mind right before the game began.

The first half of the game was fairly uneventful, the Bengals took an early lead with a touchdown in the first quarter but the Chiefs caught up within the second. You were concerned though. Travis seemed to be struggling, his focus elsewhere. You noticed a particular Bengals linebacker paying close attention to Travis, covering him often and occasionally conversing with him between plays. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, willing him to snap out of whatever mood he was in. He missed some throws, tripped up on a rush and you could see Patrick pulling him aside every now and again.

Karly didn’t seem to notice anything, thankfully she was oblivious to the rules of football and seemed to be enjoying the game regardless. You looked back towards the field as the teams left at half time to go back to the locker rooms, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is everything okay?” Karly questioned.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine.” You said before taking a sip of your beer.

“Oh my God, you’re not pregnant, are you?” She squeaked with excitement.

You laughed, “Karly, I wouldn’t be drinking beer if I was. Besides, me and Travis have only been together for a few months, you’re a little ahead there.”

She slumped her shoulders in disappointment, “Fine. So, what is it then?”

You twisted your mouth, “Something’s up with Travis.”

“Really? Well…maybe he’s just a bit nervous, with it being his first game of the season and all?”

Your fingers rubbed against the edge of your plastic glass, the cold condensation covering your thumb, “Yeah. Maybe.”

You weren’t entirely convinced but silently hoped that he would settle during the second half and you would soon see the man that you were falling in love with back to his best.

As the third quarter began, Travis seemed to appear much calmer and more focused, but as the Chiefs were getting lined up to run a 4th down play with 2 yards in it, Travis quickly stood up from his crouched position and grabbed the jersey of Germaine Pratt, the linebacker from earlier in the game, bringing him close to his face in anger. You rose to your feet and rapidly ran your eyes across the field to figure out what was happening.

The officials blew their whistles and a flag was thrown onto the field. Travis had Germaine up to his face, his helmet clashing against his. Players, coaches and officials flooded the field and you spotted Patrick Mahomes pulling Travis away. An officials voice rang out into the stadium detailing Travis’ penalty. ‘Personal foul. Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 87. 15-yard penalty, automatic first down.’

You watched as Patrick spoke to Travis for a second before returning to the field. Travis lowered his head and made his way to the bench, removing his helmet and running his hands over his face. You craned your neck to see him, but you could barely see beyond the rows of fans. You could only just make out his arms, flailing wildly in panic as players flocked to his side, trying to calm him down. You took a deep breath, watching as the Chiefs lost the ball back to the Bengals after failing to make the 17 yards.

“Well, that was intense.” Karly said in a low voice, holding her beer up to her mouth.

You shook your head, “I don’t know what’s got him all riled up?”

“Not a good color on him, though, is it?”

Your snapped sideways to look at Karly, “We don’t know what’s going on down there.”

She took a mouthful of her beer and shrugged her shoulders, turning back to face the field. You continued to look at Travis on the bench when an increase in crowd noise diverted your attention. Chris Jones had Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow flustered and he fumbled the ball. You jumped to your feet as Nick Allegretti caught it and ran the ball for 14 yards, giving the Chiefs possession. Travis threw his helmet back on and with a confident thud on his chest, he ran out ready for the next play.

Your heart was beating out of your chest with panic, “Come on, Travis. Come on, baby. Just keep it together. Please.”

Both teams squatted down ready for the snap and your eyes were locked on Travis, who was now face to face again with Germaine. You clutched your hands up against your chest, swallowing hard as if it would eliminate the churning sensation in your stomach. Suddenly, Travis sprinted from his position, finding a space downfield and leaping into the air to catch the ball.

“Yes!” You shrieked as he made the catch and securely tucked it in his arm, your eyes following him down the field.

The crowd raised their voices as he approached the end-zone, successfully dodging Bengals on each side. You jumped slightly with excitement, watching your man’s feet pounding the grass with impressive speed as he crossed the goal line and lifted the ball into the air. Karly jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around you, screaming loud enough to make your ears ring.

The ecstasy you were feeling was slowly halted when you noticed Germaine speaking to Travis. You narrowed your eyes as you watched Travis puff out his chest and aggressively approach the linebacker.

“No, Travis!” You cried out but it was too late. He had already pushed Germaine’s shoulders with both of his hands, knocking him to the ground. Travis towered over Germaine, shouting down at him as players in both red and white crowded the pair. Another flag was thrown onto the field and a chorus of boos sang out around the stadium.

Your hands found their way to your face, covering your cheeks in despair. Patrick managed to drag Travis away but you could still see the tension in his body, the anger flowing out of him. Above the crowd noise, the official tried to read out the penalty.

‘Personal foul. Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 87. He is ejected from the game.’

Your face fell in shock as the crowd erupted, a mixture of cheers and boos. Your body was frozen to the spot as you watched Travis walk off of the field and into the tunnel, back to the locker-room. A feeling of dread washed over you as you sat back down in your seat.

Karly out her arm around you, “Well, that was shit.”

You sniffed a laugh, “Yeah, it was. I’ll speak to him after the game. Something was up with him, I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have done that unprovoked.” You pointed a finger towards the field.

“Just hope they win this game, otherwise he’s going to be really pissed.” She squeezed you close.

The game ended as a bittersweet victory, all in thanks to 2 more touchdowns from the Chiefs, holding the lead until the final whistle. As you shuffled out of the stands, you searched for the way to the locker-rooms. Travis had gotten you clearance so you could see him after the game so as Karly waited by the bar, you showed your pass to the security guards and headed down the corridor.

You smiled at the various players whom you had met already as they passed you. Patrick threw you a wave and George Karlaftis pulled you in for a hug. “Go and cheer him up, would you? We’ve tried but nothing.” He said as he withdrew, turning away to leave the stadium.

You paused and took a deep breath before you pushed the door open, the air thick with steam and sweat. The room was empty but as you stepped further in, you saw a foot peeking out from around a corner. You waited for a moment before calling out into the room.

“Is it safe to come in?”

You heard a faint chuckle, “Of course, baby.” Followed by a couple of sniffs.

Travis was sat on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. He had already changed into a plain black t-shirt and some dark grey sweatpants, his hair slick wet. You gazed upon your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows, his pain and anger radiating from him along with the damp heat from his shower.

“Baby-“

“I just snapped.” He looked up at you with red eyes.

You knelt down in front of him, placing your hands on top of his, “I know, I know. What happened?”

He stood up abruptly, pacing the locker-room with a frantic energy. You stayed still for a second before coming to your feet, staring into his back as he dropped his head.

“What happened, Travis?”

“That asshole Pratt, he just kept-“ His voice cracked.

You stepped closer to him, gently touching his bicep and pressing your lips to his back.

“He kept talking about you.”

You leaned your head away from him, your face filled with confusion, “What would he have to say about me?”

He turned to face you, his teeth gritted together, “That he saw your bikini pictures on your Instagram and afterwards, he had to take a cold shower. That he knows that a fine-ass woman like you could do better than a scumbag like me. That he made a bet with the team that he could make you cum 10 times in one night and he can’t wait to find out if he’s gonna win.” His voice began to shake.

You stared up at him, his face full of pain.

“I can’t have anybody talking like that about you, baby.”

You took hold of his face, staring deep into his eyes, “You cannot let them get to you, Travis. That’s all that ass-hole wanted, for you to react like that...and you did. He just wanted to distract you. This is your career and your life and it’s so important that you don’t get into trouble just for protecting me.”

“But baby-“

“Travis, you are too damn good and too damn talented. Fuck what anybody says, even if it is about me. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He smiled softly, his eyes filling up with tears. He exhaled quickly and took you in his arms, “I’m so sorry.”

You laughed gently into his chest, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just defending me, and I appreciate that. But only off of the field, okay?”

He pulled you away and gazed at you with his hazy eyes. He breathed deeply in silence for a second before nodding his head, “Okay.”

“I can’t have the man I love getting in bust-ups every game. I don’t think my nerves could take it.”

His eyes widened and he gripped your waist, “What?”

You smiled, “I’m in love with you, Travis.”

He leaned down and smashed his lips onto yours, running his hands through your hair and rubbing circles behind your ear with his thumb. You hummed into the kiss, pressing your body into his. His kisses slowly moved across your cheek and onto your neck, the words falling out of his lips and into your skin.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

I loved this concept. Protective Travis just does something to me! I'm really enjoying getting requests...you all have such good ideas! Feel free to throw some more my way and I'll also be adding people to my Taglist for my writing, so let me know if you want me to add you!

Taglist @kkrenae

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[jinnie-ret]

oddinary house pt 1

cyborg!chan x reader

genre: horror

content warnings: electrocution

word count: 1.7k

summary: a girl approaches oddinary house, no idea of what would be inside

ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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This was a mistake, the young girl thought to herself as she warily approached the dark, abandoned mansion that barely held itself up in front of her. Metal railings that would have once protected this home were bent and twisted in all sorts of different directions, like someone had once fought to escape the place. Or maybe it was to stay inside the grounds that were overwhelmed with weeds and ivy running up the sides of the building. Yet, despite it's unwelcoming aura, there were some signs of life, such as the electricity running through the red neon sign that said 'Oddinary House'. Albeit was flashing, she at least knew she was at the right place.

It was a mysterious predicament she had found herself in, yes. The letter she had received a week ago inviting her over for the week leading up to Halloween had been very convincing. There was promises of permanence her childhood home had never given her. Sentences that enticed her into the feeling of safety, which contrasted with the appearance of the mansion, she must say, but hey, she wasn't going to judge a book by it's cover. Quite frankly, she didn't know why she was here, but there was also something in the back of her mind reminding her that she had nothing to lose. Even if she was to never be seen again, she wouldn't mind that. Anything to be rid of the same four walls she was restricted to the whole of her life.

As she approached the front door, she wondered, should she knock? It was completely see through, offering a transparency to the house the girl hadn't expected. They must be anticipating her entrance, the guests of the house who offered her a cleaning job, to fix and repair the house and help restore it to it's original form. She decided, she should knock, with such big responsibility about to be in her hands, it was only right to treat the place with such respect. Yet, as she rose her hand to tap at the door, it slowly opened on its own accord, like it had a mind of its own. There was no wind to explain what had just happened in front of her very eyes.

"Hello?" she called out timidly, wincing as her boots met the creaks of the rotting wooden floors. She'd have to keep an eye out for that.

"Come. Forward."

The girl jumped as the robotic voice sounded from around her. Where was it coming from? It was like it had been tuned into surround sound speakers, and how could they see her?

"You are finally here," the voice spoke again, words disjointed.

The girl turned again to see a... man? Except it wasn't quite a man, it was more like a half man, half robot. A bolt was screwed into his right ear, and half of his face had been invaded by metal plates. His blue eyes mirrored that of which she could only assume was blue synthetic hair.

"Are you... Mr Yang?" she asked nervously, surprised to say the least. She couldn't remove her gaze from his electric blue ones.

"Mr Yang is, pre, pre, preoccupied with other matters," he began, head suddenly jolting to the side as smoke came out of his ear, until he could eventually get the words out.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked concerned, a frown appearing on her face. This was surely no environment for a robot to be in, the whole reception area of the house was damp, droplets dripping onto some open wires. In fact, she was sure she saw the robot flinch when water met the copper plates of the wires.

"I am OK. I am... Not... me," the robot man said abruptly, hands struggling to lift his glasses back on his face. She noticed the open machinery on his arms, embedded into his fingers and running up his arms, acting as joints and muscles.

"Here let me help," the girl cautiously pushed the man's glasses further up his face.

"Thank you. What is your name?"

"Y/N. Y/N L/N. I was offered a job by Mr Yang to work here, in a letter. What's your name?" Y/N explained to the robot, before returning the favour, unable to hide her curiosity no longer.

"My model is CB97, but they call me Chan," Chan nodded rigidly, his answer seeming to have taken longer to load than his other words, like it was the first time in a while he had been asked this.

"Nice to meet you Chan... ummm, what do I do now? I was told to expect a tour of the place," Y/N retold the words she has read in the letter she had somehow misplaced, but she remembered every word.

Unfortunately, the words seemed to have stirred up a malfunction, what the girl could only assume was Chan's anger.

"No. No tour. Wait. Wait here. Then it will happen," Chan's blue eyes glowed brighter. Then his metallic body shifted to stand, a buzzing sound echoing around the room as he slowly but surely approached her.

"Wait here? Is Mr Yang coming here or not?" Y/N asked, now a bit frightened at the cyborg clanking its way towards her.

"Wait," Chan stopped in his tracks, a few feet away from Y/N, as his feet became planted into the floors, like there were outlets that he generated energy from.

"Chan, what is happening?" Y/N asked again, fear filling her from the unknown of what would happen next.

"Welcome to Oddinary House. Take a seat behind you. My name is CB97. I will send you to your room. Thank you for choosing to stay with Oddinary House. We hope all of your monsterous needs are fulfilled," Chan froze in his robot form, blue sparks flying from his body as his mind went on autopilot and he spoke what seemed like a monologue he was very used to. Or perhaps he was programmed to do so.

Y/N was taken aback when she found herself suddenly strapped into a chair as silver cuffs kept her wrists against the arms of the leather chair, her ankles being strapped in against the legs of it.

"Chan? Chan, what's going on?!" Y/N yelled out terrified as she tried to wiggle out of the chair.

His feet were unplugged from the ground, and he marched behind her chair, resting his hands on the sides of her head with an expressionless face.

"Name."

"Chan what is this?!"

"We cannot find that in our records. Name."

"It's Y/N, you already know that!"

"Y/N. Age 20. You are staying in room 143."

"Chan listen to me! Chan?!" Y/N's tears ran freely down her face and she could her them fizzling against Chan's fingers that framed her face as her head was held still.

"Your stay here will be indefinite. There is no time listed."

"CB97!!!" Y/N desperately shouted, and that's when the buzzing that had filled her ears stopped, and the girl didn't know of it was for the better of for the worse.

The clanking of the metal marched once again, Chan, or CB97 standing in front of her, yet this time, he had a red eye alongside a blue one, instead of both of them remaining the same colour.

It was for the worse.

"CB97. Umm, release. Yeah, release! CB97. Release," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to be firm and hide away her shakiness so that the robot would listen to her and understand what she was saying. The metal cuffs were now beginning to feel really tight and the fact that her stay at this building was indefinite, was making her even more scared. Yet, a sad part of her still felt safer being restrained and unable to move in front of an unpredictable creature, than at home with her family.

"Request. Denied."

"No, no, no! Chan, listen! CB97, explain! What will happen now?" Y/N whimpered after knowing that she wouldn't be freed.

"Y/N. Y-y-you, will, b-b-b-be taken t-to your room. You cannot leave," Chan's voice became deeper yet he seemed to be bugging out, and suddenly wires sprang out from the uncovered workings on his arms and they connected to the metal cuffs. Electricity charged into the metal, and Y/N screamed out in pain as she was electrocuted.

"Ahh! Ahh! Stop! Stop!" her screams rang out around the room.

Chan's body was jolting and nearly bouncing in its place as the electricity ran out from his body and be finally shut down, like he was being restarted. Y/N sighed in relief, body going lax in the chair as her body was exhausted from the electricity having been forced into it.

"CB97. Restarting."

"Chan?" Y/N whispered, seeing his eyes shutter open and close before they turned back on, and thankfully revealed his normal blue eyes.

"Y/N. Extreme body exhaustion detected. Cause: electrocution." Chan reported as his eyes did a scan on Y/N's body. "Explain how this happened."

"Chan, you sort of malfunctioned and then some wires came out and got me. You sort of just went... out of control?" Y/N stared at the robot in front of her, and there was a flash of human emotions in his eyes, an almost furrow of the brows.

"CB97 malfunctioned. We apologise for this mishap. Chan will do better. Next time," Chan's head tilted downwards and he genuinely looked apologetic.

"Chan, I just want to rest now," Y/N said tiredly. She could see her frizzy hair out of the corner of her eyes and her arms nearly felt limp.

"CB97 will send you away now."

And with that, the chair started moving quickly down what seemed like a never ending hallway, and as it slowly started to begin to move, Y/N saw Chan return to his space behind the reception desk. It passed through a long hallway, different patchy wallpapers seen as she sped forwards at what felt like the speed of light.

The motions were too much, to the point where Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair. The only semblance she had of where she was, was when she felt the softness of a bed, a blanket encompassing her body. That slight moment of consciousness allowed her to see the door to her room close, a bat flying through the small gap before it did.

What had she gotten herself into?

taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

[chronicbeans]

Wally Darling with a Villain Reader (part 2)

I saw some people request this so here you go! OwO

TW: Kidnapping, Possessive and Obsessive Behavior, Unwanted Hugs/Cuddles

🍎 You have been sitting in the basement for a long time, now. Well, at least you THINK it has been a long time. It is pitch black, besides the candles, which only light a small portion of the basement. Wally said that, for whatever reason, electricity doesn't work in Home's basement. He also said that, since the candles use flames, it would warm you up more than electric lights, anyways.

🍎 Either way, it is dreadfully cold. You are wrapped up in a million blankets, with pillows surrounding you to work as a mattress or sorts, yet you are still cold and uncomfortable. Is this your punishment for annoying people? You really don't know. Wally hasn't explained anything to you, yet.

🍎 Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Look who's walking down the stairs to see you! It's Wally Darling, the star of the show! You don't even try to run anymore, because he always closes the basement door too quickly to give you a chance. Once that door closes, it is always pitch black, again. Not only that, but you are also pretty sure Home is working alongside him. Once, when you said something bad about Wally keeping you locked up, a pipe above you began leaking in response, some weird, black substance staining your blanket.

🍎 Wally walks over you, with you only being able to see him again once he is right in front of you. His grin is as merry as ever and his eyes still holding that unnerving look as when he first brought you here. He pulls up a pillow, sitting cross legged on it as he speaks, his voice holding his signature monotone "Isn't this so fun? I get to see you everyday, you get to sit back and relax in here. I also get to watch how our neighbors are reacting to you disappearing! How exciting!"

🍎"Wally... this isn't fun. Please, let me go! I don't know what I did to make you so upset, but-!" He shushes you, placing a finger to your lips to keep you quiet. "You did... nothing. Nothing to upset me." You can tell it's a lie everytime he says it. His smile always grows a bit darker when he does, almost like he is straining to keep it together. However, he then pulls away, continuing "Why is it fun when you whisk me away, but not the other way around? That doesn't sound very fair, neighbor. I am having fun. Home is having fun, too! Are you still cold? Do you need more blankets?"

🍎 You don't answer his question, instead asking "Is... is anybody even looking for me? Do they care?" He pauses, seemingly thinking. He then shakes his head "No. I don't think they are... Let me tell you a secret, little villain." He crawls over, grabbing a hold of your upper arms, saying "Don't let Home know this, okay?" You weakly nod, at this point just wanting him to get away from you as soon as possible. You aren't going to lie... As much as you like to seem brave, Wally looks a bit frightening in the glow of candle lights.

🍎 He leans close to your ear, whispering "I don't think our neighbors have even noticed you are gone, yet... it is kind of like... you never existed." Your heart sinks. You watch as he pulls away, still holding your arms as he says "I'll be here, though! We can play games. I can show you how to draw. I can give you some paper to write on. The others don't matter, right? You'll be safe and happy here, I promise. A good neighbor never breaks a promise. Pinky swear!" He grabs your hand, linking your pinky to his in a forced promise. "I can even keep you warm and safe, here. If the blankets don't work, I'll come down every hour to give you a long, warm hug!"

🍎 As if to demonstrate, he wraps his arm around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. To be fair, he is surprisingly warm, but it is still extremely uncomfortable. You have made it very clear to him, numerous times, that you like to have personal space. Usually whenever you took him to the forest, you just grabbed his hand and dragged him there, then sat next to him on a log with a foot between you two. Meanwhile, he grabbed you from behind like some horror movie villain, dragged you into his basement, and now won't stop finding excuses to hug you close.

🍎"Get off of me... I'll be fine on my own. These blankets are cozy enough." They really aren't. You just want him off of you. "Nope! You are my captive, now! You gotta do as I say, and I want hugs! Just a few more minutes." Your eyes widen. That is a very... uncharacteristic thing for Wally to say. Then again, he has been acting strange ever since he took you here... but he usually still listens to you when you say to let go.

🍎 You get an explanation once he says "I love playing villain! I can see why you like it, now. You get to be mean and not listen to people. While you like to break things, say mean things, and trip people... I like to keep you here and cuddle you for as long as I want! After all, from how you spoke to me during the times you took me away, you seem like you really need them. If you won't accept them or ask for them yourself, I'm going to make you. Nobody else is willing to give you them, after all, because you are MY villain."

🍎 He finally pulls away, causing you to instinctively scoot away from him. "You are crazy. Like... There is something WRONG with you. Why won't you just let me go home? Even if people do start looking for me, nobody is going to even THINK to look inside your house! Much less your basement, which people don't know about! What even is this place? It's so dark. It seems to go on forever..."

🍎 Wally lets out a small "humph" noise, tilting his head "That's just another little insult, isn't it? Kind of like you saying my paintings look bad. I'm not crazy! If I am, I'm crazy for you! I don't seem to act like this around anyone else and you won't leave my head. As for this place... I honestly don't know. It came with Home. I haven't seen all of it." There is a muffled knock from upstairs, followed by an equally muffled "Wally! I gotta delivery for ya!"

🍎"Oh! My paints must have arrived! I'm working on a gift for you! How about you just get some sleep, okay? Oh, and don't try screaming. I've found that nobody can hear anything from down here, for some reason... I really picked the jackpot with this hiding place!" He then hurries upstairs, leaving you in the darkness, once again.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Play Nice

“You are an absolute brat and I loathe you,” Coriolanus grits out, covered in sweat, scratches and a little bit of blood as he wrangles her down to the tiled bathroom floor, “I wish I never let you move in with me.”

All that he gets in reply is a hiss and a frustrated yowl.

“Is everything alright in there?” Soarynn calls from the bedroom.

Coriolanus glances at his reflection in the floor length mirror. He looks absolutely pitiful like this. Soaked with bath water, his curls sticking to his forehead, his hands scratched up as he attempts to pin down an eleven pound cat to the ground.

“Perfectly fine darling,” he calls back.

Petunia lets out a loud meow, so loud that you’d think he was strangling her which is fucking impossible the way she’s wiggling around. “This is only going to serve as a momentary lapse in our relationship,” he gasps as he finally manages to get her to hold still, “all that’s left is drying you off and clipping your nails.”

Easier said than done.

Ever so carefully, he reaches for the towel he left on the floor, wrapping it around her until she looks like some sort of puffed pastry. Petunia does not look happy but Coriolanus can’t find it in him to care about that right now. “You’re an absolute diva,” he tells her, shooting the feline a small glare, “you had me fooled in that pet shop all those years ago.”

Coriolanus had gotten Petunia as a gift for Soarynn, as means to give his girlfriend some company while he was away at work. He hadn’t expected the cat to become a tyrant in his own home, prancing around with ribbons on her neck, batting at his ankles and sleeping right in between them.

And she stole his socks. Some things were just unforgivable to him.

She looks a bit like a wet rat right now. Soaked to the bone but he is too. Her normally fluffy, white fur is smoothed down making her appear much smaller than she usually does. Petunia is a ball of fluff, if only her attitude could say the same.

“Do you need help Coryo?”

His eyes widen at his girlfriend’s question and he’s quick to shoot it down. “We’re fine! Just rest darling.”

Normally, Soarynn took on the brunt of Petunia’s personal hygiene. She brushed the cat at least ten times a day and cats are quite clean overall so it was rare for Petunia to be bathed. Usually, they handed that task over to their trusted veterinarian but the vet was closed today and while Soarynn could bathe Petunia with no problem, she wasn’t feeling well. Menstrual cramps seemed to be a constant issue where Coriolanus was concerned. He hated them. Hated how they made the love of his life feel, how helpless she became, how she whimpered in pain as she curled up in a tight ball.

So on the day she had planned to give Petunia a bath, he bravely stepped up to the task. How hard could it be? Petunia was always so well behaved when Soarynn bathed her. Coriolanus even had a photo of Soarynn holding up a swaddled Petunia in her arms, almost like a child with a big smile on her face.

Petunia however, seemed to be dead set on making him regret his selfless decision as she attempted to free her paw to swat at him. “Save your tears for someone who cares about them,” he tells the cat as he ruffles the towel and attempts to dry her off. He glances at the hair dryer that sits on his girlfriend’s side of the bathroom counter but that’s too risky. Water and electricity are a terrible match and with his luck, he’d electrocute both of them.

He’ll just stick with the towel.

꧁ ꧂

By the time he’s finished with the battle of drying and clipping the cats fur and nails, Coriolanus feels as if he’s lost a good two years of his life.

It’s damn near ironic how she happily prances out into the bedroom once he opens the bathroom doors, gasping for air. Petunia runs over to the bed, effortlessly jumping onto it and immediately seeks out Soarynn for comfort.

He can’t see his girlfriend all that clearly with the amount of pillows and blankets she’s got covering her but he hears her chuckle at his attempt of a ribbon around Petunia’s neck. “Oh, you gave him a run for his money, didn’t you my darling?”

Coriolanus scoffs and smooths his hair back as he walks around to her side of the bed and finds her curled up with her heating pad. Petunia is already lying down, her stomach on full display as Soarynn gives her belly rubs. “If our children are anything like her then we’ll need to hire a full-time nanny,” Coriolanus decides right there and then.

Soarynn smirks as she slowly attempts to sit up but he gently pushes her back down. She needs to rest, that’s why he so stupidly agreed to do this suicidal task in the first place. “You know, I do have to move at some point,” she softly reminds him. Coriolanus nods, he knows that Soarynn can’t lie here forever but he’s set on keeping her here as long as possible. Where she’s safe and warm and loved.

Petunia meows, seemingly upset that the attention is no longer on her. “I think if we gave you to Dr. Gaul she’d send you right back,” he says, not at all impressed with the innocent display Petunia is putting on. She hisses at him and tries to swipe at his hand when he reaches for Soarynn.

Soarynn rolls her eyes and scratches the cat between her ears, “Play nice you two.”

Easy for her to say. The cat is obsessed with Soarynn, wants to follow her everywhere, be with her while she showers and brushes her teeth.

Which is unfortunate because Coriolanus is also obsessed with Soarynn and wants to follow her everywhere, and be with her while she showers and brushes her teeth.

If he knew he was in for some competition then he would have gotten her a fish.

“She refuses to share you with me,” he grumbles as he carefully sits on the edge of the bed, his hip next to Soarynn’s head. Soarynn gives him a small smile, “Sounds like someone I know.” He ignores her teasing and runs a loving hand through her soft blonde hair, “Well, that someone clearly adores you with all his heart and made a great sacrifice today by bathing that cat.”

Soarynn giggles and presses a kiss to Petunia’s head, “He also replaced the silk ribbon I normally tie around her neck for a necktie.” Well, now he’s embarrassed. And the tie looks rather sharp in his opinion and Petunia clearly doesn’t mind as she bats at it with her paws. “He was a man with few resources who was trapped with a deadly beast,” he tells her somberly, “be glad he made it out alive.”

Soarynn looks up at him and he nearly melts right then and there at how beautiful she looks.

She’d deny it if he told her how perfect she looks right now. She’d claim that she hasn’t showered yet and that her hair isn’t properly styled and that she hasn’t eaten a decent meal since yesterday afternoon but he doesn’t care. He’s sure he’ll see all sorts of sides of her as their relationship grows and matures. He’s going to hold her hand when she pushes their child into the world and Coriolanus doesn’t doubt that she’ll look absolutely beautiful when she does it.

“Thank you for giving her a bath,” she says. And suddenly all is forgiven. The headache he has is now vaporized. The cuts on his hand healed. His damp curls dry and styled to perfection. Everything seems to be alright with her by his side.

“You’re very welcome my darling,” he replies before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He feels a soft sensation on his cheek and in his peripheral vision he can see Petunia rubbing her head against his cheek. Soarynn lets out a breathy laugh, “Looks like all has been forgiven then.”

Coriolanus smiles to himself as Petunia crawls onto Soarynn’s lap and curiously observes the heating pad.

Petunia can be a real pain in the ass. But when he sees how happy she makes Soarynn, how much more Soarynn laughs and smiles because of that cat, it all seems worth it in the end. After all, these are the two most important women in his life. He ought to take care of them.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[margowritesthings]

you made me

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral (r receiving), orgasm

a/n: I honestly dont know where this came from hehe - Ive been so blocked all week and thought Id bash some angst out and got.... carried away whoops. Hope you enjoy!

tagging: @faye-tale @slut4colinbridgerton

My requests are currently open!

Thomas Dorset’s lips were oh so close to your ear, so much so that his breath brushed your lobe when he told you just how stunning you looked tonight. It tickled, but not in the way you were used to. Not that you expected it to. This was, after all, Thomas Dorset. Nobodys breath tickled hot fire across your skin quite like-

No. Not tonight. 

You had promised your mama that tonight was about finding a suitor. You had promised yourself that you would stop breaking your own heart day after day waiting. You couldn’t think of him. Not tonight. 

The task seemed near impossible when you felt it: the crackle of electricity against the back of your neck, the fair hair standing to attention and a shiver running down your spine. You felt his eyes- Viscount Anthony Bridgerton’s eyes- staring furiously past his friend Mr. Dorset and right at you, wine glass clutched in gloved hands with a vice-like grip. Even from across the dimly lit ballroom, you could see the tension in his jaw as his teeth clenched. His brother Benedict appeared to be talking with him, but Anthony seemed too engrossed in his fury to have even noticed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, seemingly desperate for escape. You couldn’t blame it, part of you wishing you could be swallowed up by the Bridgertons beautiful wooden dance floor, or perhaps kidnapped by pirates and taken to The Americas. Anything to help subdue the hurt you were feeling right now.

Dorset twirled you around as you attempted to mumble out responses to the small talk he was trying his hardest to harvest. Poor Thomas, you thought, watching an actual bead of sweat produce on his forehead from the excursion of conversation with you, he doesn’t have a clue.

How could he? Nobody did. From the outside, there was no way to know your heart belonged to another, which was exactly the problem. You had been with Anthony for almost a year now, in secret, and he had made it obvious he had no intentions with you. You, on the other hand, had to marry. You had to help provide for your mama, there was no other option. Hence why the University chum of the love of your life was bowing his head to you gratefully as the music died down. 

You smiled politely, thanking Thomas for the dance, knowing full well there would absolutely not be a second. Your cheeks ache. Your heart hurts. It always was so much harder to maintain a fake smile than a real one. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You breathed the cool air in deeply, as though emerging from being submerged in water for hours, and glanced around the terrace to ensure you were alone. Glancing at your dance card, you grimaced, knowing Viscount Darby would be waiting on the dance floor for you at this very moment. It was most improper to leave him waiting, but after feeling Anthony’s intense glare on you for the last 10 minutes, you were starting to lose the ability to breathe. He hadn’t approached you. Of course he hadn’t, you thought bitterly, gripping onto the vine entwisted railing until your knuckles were white, as if you could somehow transfer pain from the heart to the hand. 

Tears pricked at your eyelashes, threatening to fall and you shook your head furiously, trying in vain to will them out of existence. A stray curl fell from your coiffure right in front of your face and you cursed. Again, most improper, but so was falling in love with a man you had been secretly living in complete and utter ruin and sin with for a year. Maybe you were just improper. Perhaps that was why he wouldn’t marry you or court you or anything of the sort. 

Whatever it was, it was done, and you weren’t going to find a husband with dishevelled hair like this.

You had been snuck into the Bridgerton house enough times to know that you were only a hallway away from the nearest washroom. It wasn’t perhaps open to the rest of the guests, but you’d much prefer to stay away from anyone else until you looked less like you’d just been compromised. A harsh laugh escaped your throat as you snuck away back into the house. Compromised. Imagine that.

As suspected, the hallway was empty, but you had actually been snuck out through this very entrance, so knew exactly how to get to the washroom. It was three doors down to the left, you just had to go past Anthony’s stud-

“A word, Miss y/l/n?”

You gasped, every muscle in your body somehow simultaneously frozen and on fire. The most nauseating drop of dread fell into the pit of your stomach.

You turned on your heel to the origin of the voice, seeing Anthony leaning against the doorframe in the entrance to his study. 

Longing eyes shared a moment together, before you realised there was absolutely nothing you could say that would dissuade Anthony from having this conversation with you. Wordlessly, you walked past him into the office. 

The fire was lit and you once more felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, ready to burn on the spot at any moment. The air was suffocating for a second and then even more so as Anthony’s intoxicating scent was pushed into you after locking the door and stepping towards you. He towered over you, almost backing you into the bookshelf as your wide, defiant eyes blinked up at him. You couldn’t speak, having imagined this conversation so many times over so many tears that the real thing didn't feel real at all. Conviction threatened to collapse just after seeing him, but you swore you wouldn’t break. You had to follow your duty, no matter what he had to say.

 Anthony’s eyes were dark and you spotted a muscle in his jaw flutter. You tried not to think of the other times you’ve spotted that muscle, while he grit his teeth to try to last longer inside you and keep your precious time together going as long as possible. 

“Dorset is not suitable for you.” 

You scoffed, all heartbreak halted for a moment as you attempted to fathom his audacity.

“Jealousy isn't becoming of you, my Lord.” you spat, trying not to notice Anthony wincing at the sudden formality between the two of you.

Anthony’s eyebrows knitted together, sadness creeping across his face and defying his angry demeanour.

“Was that not your intention? To make me jealous? Why else would you be dancing with half of London all night, flaunting yourself in front of me!” It was your turn to wince at the raised volume to which he shouted, his accusations of flaunting painful. Truly you had not intended to make him jealous, but you were on a mission to find someone to care for you and your family. Dancing was rather mandatory at a London ball when in want of a husband.

“I beg your pardon, my Lord-” “Anthony.” “-but I fail to see how who I dance with is any of your concern. I am a Lady and you know full well how improper it would be for me to decline an offer of a dance from a gentleman.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as Anthony took a step forward. Your back hit the bookshelf gently and strong arms clad in a velvet jacket encased you in.

“And when, exactly, did you start caring about propriety, little siren?” The nickname he had for you was instantly intoxicating and you felt something inside of you crumble and desire pool deep. You were forced to push it all down, absolutely determined. 

His breath tickled your skin- exactly how you liked it- as he spoke, whispering deeply “You think Dorset can give you what you want? You think he will know you as I do? Every trick,-”

His tongue flicked against your ear so gently that you could have screamed.

“-every moment, all those depraved, wicked things you love? Only I know those, little siren. Only I know you like you need to be known…”

 It would be easy, so easy, to give in, especially as your Anthony’s lips came closer and closer to your-

“No!” You exclaimed, ducking under one of Anthony’s arms to escape. The confusion on his features was a stab to the heart and a punch to the gut all in one. You had never felt such physical, palpable pain for something so intimate and emotional. 

“What is going on, y/n?” He demanded, the fury of earlier in the evening returning to his eyes.

“I cannot do this! I cannot do this anymore, Anthony. The time we shared was…” words failed you, unable to do justice to the sheer weight of the time you and Anthony shared together, “Whatever it was, it isn’t sustainable. I need to be with someone I can marry, someone to provide for my family. You have made it more than clear that you do not desire to state your intentions on me, so this… This cannot continue.“

You could almost see the cogs whirring around in Anthony’s brain before completely falling apart, shattering with a silent crash. The tension fell away from his jaw and if it wasn’t so dark in the study you would have sworn you saw his eyes glisten. 

And your entire being broke all over again. 

“I… I see.” He managed, swallowing hard. “I… I did not realise you needed to… I see.” He trailed off, suddenly unable to meet your hard gaze. Your eyes dropped to the floor too, knowing each second of that intense eye contact was another moment you weren’t sure you could handle. 

“I did not mean to… That is to say, I-” “It is fine, Anthony. There is nothing left to say. I shall take my leave, my lord.” And without meeting his gaze again, you attempted to make your way to the door. A hand grasped around your arm stopped you in your tracks.

“Why do you think that? That I should not wish to marry you?” Your eyes met. It was a mistake, you knew that as soon as you noticed the sadness pooled in Anthony’s face. It was unbearable. If it wasn’t for such a stupidly obtuse question, you may have lost some of your resolve.

“I know what I am to you. We had fun, but you hid me away in the shadows, my lord. A Viscount needs a Viscountess he can show off to the ton, do you not think? Not a ruined woman he is ashamed to be seen with.” The tight grip on your skin loosened but didn’t fully subside, Anthony not yet ready to let go, it seemed.

“Y/n… Do you know why I didn’t announce our courtship?” You blinked, and upon realising that was answer enough, Anthony continued, “I felt guilty. I felt I took liberties with you and the ton can be so unforgiving to ladies such as yourself. If they found out what we did? What we shared? You would be ruined, forced to marry me and spend a miserable life with a husband who compromised you… I… I lo- I care for you too much to allow you to settle because of my actions.”

The revelation split the world in half. Or, at least it felt like it did. Your legs felt like jelly and you wished more than almost anything that there was an aptly named fainting chair around for you to drape upon dramatically. Your skin fizzed under Anthony’s grasp and your hairs once again stood on end. Jaw slack, lips trying to form words that refused to be spoken, you tried to figure out if Anthony was telling you just what he thought he was telling you.

“You… You didn’t ruin me, Anthony. The ton may say otherwise but I don’t see it as ruined, I never did. I don’t regret what we did, I didn’t regret it the first time and I haven’t regretted it since. You didn’t ruin me, you made me and if I could live the rest of my life with you I would. I… I…” 

At some point, your arm had slipped from Anthony’s grasp. Tears were welling in your eyes and you were both breathing hard, panting. The silence grew and the room got smaller and in that one moment, it became inevitable. 

You became engulfed in Bridgerton blue velvet and pulled against Anthony’s warm body, lips clashing with his violently. Books fell to the floor as you managed to push Anthony into the shelf, your tongues angrily dancing together.It was hot, it was needy, it felt as if your futures together lie in this kiss, as long as you could hold on and never let go. 

“Y/n…” Anthony breathed through kisses, a hand reaching to push the stray piece of hair that was responsible for this whole exchange behind your ear. “Y/n, y/n, y/n… my darling…” He was breathless, breaking the intense kiss between the two of you to pepper more down your neck. Everything fell apart from the two of you, leaving two souls alone in the world, about to change their lives forever. 

You closed your eyes, allowing the tingles to spread across your silky skin with each kiss like ripples in a pond. When your lashes fluttered open again, you had to look down to see Anthony, who was holding onto your hips and was knelt before you, his head inches away from your belly.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him knelt before you like this, but it was the first time you were clothed. The fire crackled beside the two of you, illuminating Anthony in the most stunning glow as he snaked a hand around to take your hand.

“What are you-”

“Marry me.”

“What?”

He didn’t seem to even blink, gazing at you with enough intensity to make you feel like some sort of masterpiece in a gallery.

“Marry me. Not because I compromised you, not because you must marry to care for your family, not because I am the only one who truly knows you. Marry me because I love you. Marry me because I am a bloody fool who couldn’t see what was right in front of me. Marry me because you, y/n, made me. Marry me because-”

You couldn’t wait.

“Yes! Yes. Anthony, I- my God, Anthony… Of course I’ll marry you. I love you too.”

Tears of pure joy and absolute unadulterated happiness welled in your eyes as Anthony shot up and whisked you into his arms, spinning you around. He kissed every inch of your face and neck, just whispering your name over and over again until it ceased to sound real. God, it better be real.

Both feet firmly back on the ground, your cheeks were squished together by Anthony’s strong hands as he pulled you back close to him for another kiss. He kissed away the tears falling down your cheeks. He kissed your jaw and your nose and he anchored his fingers into your coiffure, fingers sensually scratching the back of your head. You mewled deliciously, teasing a growl out of Anthony’s chest. Closing the gap between you, he reached around to unbutton your dress expertly, more than used to your intricate ball gowns. It wasn’t long before there was a puddle of silk on the office floor and the skin of your back was exposed to the heat of the fire. It no longer suffocated you, instead fuelling your passion. Every sensation felt like ecstasy at that moment.

Your fiancé led you over to his desk, sitting you down on it as he knelt between your legs. He didn’t break eye contact as your underwear was pulled down your leg slowly. Stockings were peeled off your legs. You were now completely bare, practically dripping onto the desk while Anthony bowed below you. Seeing him knelt there, ready to pleasure you might just have been the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You felt that same tickle of breath between your legs and you fought to stay still.

Torturously slowly, Anthony’s tongue slipped out, licking a line all the way up your slit, dipping into you ever so slightly before flicking over your clit. You cried out, grabbing Anthony’s hand and entangling your fingers with his thick curls. 

“Shhh…” He cooed, the vibrations of his hush felt right at your core. Anthony’s hand snaked up your chest, taking care to brush your hardened nipples on the way up as he guided you to lay back onto the papers strewn across his desk. Another long lick bucked your hips into the sky and you tried to muffle your moan by biting onto your arm. He pulled away, never once breaking eye contact with you as his devilishly rakish smirk grew and grew.

After what felt like torturous hours of breath teasing at your exposed, soaked cunt, he finally delved in, kissing and nipping and licking in all the right places. He knew you and he knew just how to reel your coil tighter and tighter until you were grinding against his face chasing release. 

“Oh, God, Anthony…” You whined, reaching for the hand that wasn’t holding your chest to the desk so you could hold onto it, feeling as though if you weren’t grounded by Anthony, you might just fly off into the sky. 

“Fiancee…” He breathed out, before taking your clit into his mouth and sucking. You couldn’t help but scream his name, damn anyone who may walk past, as you are catapulted over the edge by your Viscount’s expertise. As you came, the sweet suction on your nub pulled and pulled at your centre until tears formed and fell down your cheeks once more. Gentle licks at your dripping juices gently let you back down to Earth as the white hot melting of your mind subsided to a gentle, satisfied fuzziness. 

Trying to catch your breath, your lashes fluttered down to between your legs, where Anthony still knelt, looking up at you with all the love and lust in the world. If not for the racing of your heart and rushing of blood in your ears, you would have sworn this was a dream, a fantasy you would wake from. But it wasn’t, emphasised by the slight jolt sent up your spine when Anthony nibbled at your inner thigh .

“So… Do you still wish to marry me? Or shall I return you to your…” Anthony glances down to the floor, picking up the long discarded dance card that must have fallen in your passion, “Mr Bradshaw? Oh, my love… You’re staying here with me, for your toes and sanity if nothing else.” He began peppering kisses over your skin, up your stomach and chest until he was on top of you, catching your lips every time he could manage to get in through the giggles. 

“Don’t be cruel!” You blushed as Anthony’s tender kisses moved to your cheeks and nose, “But yes, of course I still wish to marry you. But- oh, God!” You almost shot up, very nearly bashing Anthony in the forehead, “I’ve been gone for so long!! My Mama will-” 

“Think you’ve been kidnapped and compromised by a handsome Viscount? Oh, my stars…” Anthony whispered, his eyebrow raised and boyish grin fully formed now your womanhood wasn’t blocking your view. You hit him gently on the chest before pulling him in for another kiss, quite literally in awe of this man and enthralled by how quickly everything had changed. 

“And what, pray tell, does this handsome Viscount intend to do with me next?”

“Oh, he intends to absolutely ruin you…” 

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mr. Chicken

Debut: Rhythm Heaven Megamix

The year is unknown. The world as we know it is unrecognizable. Ocean now covers nearly all of the planet's surface, and the remaining landmasses jut sharply upward, connected only by brittle stone bridges, if anything. And yet, despite all this...

This chicken bought himself an electric car, and he's ready to take it for a ride!

Mr. Chicken is the star of Charging Chicken, which is a game of chicken! You know, like, trying to get as close as possible to something without going over? I don't actually know why that's called chicken. Hold on, I have to look something up.

Ah! It is called that because the original game of chicken involved two drivers driving right toward each other, where one or both must swerve away, or risk crashing. If only one swerves, that driver is the Chicken, in the "coward" sense of the word. I would not call avoiding a car crash cowardly, but I cannot speak for people who would intentionally drive toward each other in cars! This does not help the reputation of the humble chicken.

Thankfully, Mr. Chicken is not driving into head-on traffic. Unfortunately, he is driving toward a landmass only a few feet wide, with a drop straight down into the ocean on the other side. Why is he doing this? Is he stupid? Yeah, I think so.

I don't know if Mr. Chicken is a terrible driver, his car is terribly designed, or both! The moment it finishes charging, it immediately zooms straight at full speed, so either it drives recklessly on its own until it runs out of fuel, or this chicken has the gas pedal slammed down to the floor at ALL times. I would not put it past him.

All this is bad enough, and that's without even mentioning that chickens barely have any depth perception! That's why they (and other prey birds) bob their heads while they walk- the things that they see will appear to move at different speeds depending on how far from the eyes they are! Delightfully, Mr. Chicken DOES indeed bob his head rapidly while driving, so at least he's trying, I guess. But if there is anything you take from this post, I hope it is that a chicken would not be good at driving a car.

Nevertheless, THIS chicken has his driver's license, somehow. And we get to hear his own thoughts about it!

"I've been driving for almost three years now. I get pulled over all the time, and I keep expecting a police officer to comment on my license picture--I look so good!"

I am happy he is proud of his photo. I'm sure it looks great, I always love looking at a photo of a chicken. I even included one in this post! They are so fun to look at. But getting pulled over all the time? I am disappointed in him! I don't feel comfortable with such a reckless driver on the road! If only he would change his ways, but that is surely too much to expect...

"When my safe driving record got me the gold driver's license, I asked if I could keep my same picture. It's such a cute picture of me!"

Wow! He changed his ways, despite me not having faith in him! It turns out even a digital chicken has the capacity to change. I am proud of him! This is now a chicken who all drivers should aspire to be like, in terms of both safety and self-love!

The non-Japanese versions of the game feature this, quite frankly, sick mural of Mr. Chicken and his car at the end of Machine Remix! I don't think this is his own garage, since there is a whole Car Guy character that this stage is hosted by, so maybe he's a beloved customer, and became a sort of mascot. He probably crashes enough cars to keep a repair shop in business!

There is even more to Mr. Chicken but I don't feel like writing anymore! Check out this official comic if you want to see some rooster heterosexuality.

[cosmokrill]

I know it's been exactly two days since I said that I would be taking a break, but I realized I never really got to elaborate on a few things regarding Noah (The Narrator) and Ford (Timekeeper)'s appearance in relation to their story, since relaxing for a bit has let me work on proper character stories a bit more.

Um... spoiler for (sort of?) partial nudity, they're full body sketches but rest assured, nothing explicit is showing, everything sensitive is covered up, and it's in no suggestive way! It's important because it does go in-line with their story.

And if I see any of you being weird about Ford again I will personally and publicly call you out on my blog

Stanley's being left out here, at least this time, because there's really nothing special about his appearance despite his goofy little dot eyes.

So, what are we looking at?

Noah has a partial-body scar across the left side of his torso and his left upper arm! Back when he was completely human (yes, he really was once fully human!) He attempted to fully dedicate himself to his writing and storytelling as a part-time author, in a world technologically advanced enough to have closed trial runs and proofs of concept when it came to an experimental machine that, in all aspects, was a bit like a sensory chamber mixed with full-body VR inside a computer and the Internet; the only thing separating it from modern tech was that it was a lot bigger and more clunky than the VR headsets we have in this day and age.

Being a man with a soul-sucking 9 to 5 who just barely got by on money to have a nice apartment and some comforts, but who didn't have enough spending money or the apartment space for the giant pods, Noah took to... well, building one himself. He had the blueprints and some experience in building things, how hard could it be?

Well... he certainly did build one. It was EXTREMELY unsafe, but he built one. Hooking himself up, he flipped the power switch without a test run and it had a bit of a shocking result, haha. To put it simply, he did manage to slip into the digital world, but his computer stationed at his left side experienced an electricity surge and completely fried his physical body beyond saving, represented by the scars on his digital self and a slight voltage in his body, enough to dimly light a bulb in his hand. It only takes a bit of appearance tweaking in the files to hide the scars, although they do revert if he's very emotional.

It's interesting to think of how he would've fared if Noah never uploaded his consciousness, but that's a story for another time. The only thing I'd say is that... he'd probably look like this!

Now that we have Noah out of the way, it's Ford time! One thing I never noted with their appearance, due to it being mostly covered up by clothes, is that they have fairly visible stretch marks. What, you really didn't think they were always 8'11", did you? In their "Pre-Parable" look, back when it was an office simulator running basic AI, Ford was much shorter, both in height and hair length.

Due to "unknown" circumstances, though, Noah panicked and tried to delete Ford's code, but the AI caused the files to corrupt in the background, still existing, causing rapid growth to start and their demeanor to become... well, the way it currently is. With the changes happening in such a short time, it's expected that they would have many growth marks to show for it. Their current form, as crazy as it is, is only very early in the corruption, so their body is going to get REALLY fucked up millennia from the story's present if they don't figure a way to keep a hold on it. And to add insult to injury, they blame The Narrator for it all.

What's fun is that, something I never realized until now, the discoloration on Ford's left half perfectly copies Noah's scars! That's fun!

...And if you're asking why I noted Ford having slight shoulder freckles... I just think they're cute, okay?

[ananxiousgenz]

in honor of my birthday: have a malevolent fic!! it's shitty, but it's complete!! and because you wanted to be tagged: @lighthouseshepard <3

John's time as Arthur's arm and eyes had prepared him for a lot of things that came with being human. The sensation of touch, for one. How to use muscles and nerves to move limbs and interact with the surrounding world. How to determine direction. How to use force. How to describe things effectively and how to apologize for wrong-doing (sort of).

He’d figured out a lot more after the successful completion of the ritual that granted him his own body. Walking. Running. Jumping. Handwriting. Hugs and handshakes and nearly all of the other casual and not-so-casual ways humans made physical contact with each other, kissing included (with Arthur, no less, but that was a story for another time). Smells and sensations and which ones he liked and which ones he didn’t (the smell of clean laundry was a yes, but the feeling of sand on his feet was a big NO). He was still getting the hang of etiquette and social cues, although secretly he felt like he was never going to fully understand them. But on the whole, John felt like he had figured out a lot of what it took to be human.

But never this. Never hair.

John stood in the tiny bathroom of the apartment they shared, examining his dripping hair in the mirror. It was….. nice, he supposed. In appearance, at least. The color suited him, a deep coal black  that suited his warm brown skin perfectly, and when it wanted to cooperate with his efforts to style it, it looked positively regal. Only when it wanted to, of course. It was the styling part that had been causing him problems. Actually, it was the whole taking-care-of-it-in-addition-to-styling thing that had been causing him problems for the past few months.

Arthur had always kept his own hair short and neat, and even when he had been without a barber for several months between the Dreamlands and Addison, his hair never grew farther than slightly past his jaw, shaggy and uneven. His hair was easy to take care of. A little soap, some water, perhaps a comb and pomade when they could get it, and he looked just fine. 

John’s hair, on the other hand, was long and thick, falling in neat waves past his shoulders with a slight curl at the ends. He and Arthur had both been surprised when his new body had hair like that. According to Arthur, men typically kept their hair short all their lives and offered to take John to a barber, but he refused. John had never had to take care of long hair before, but decided to give it a try. Arthur offered what little advice he had picked up from his time with Bella and what he knew from taking care of Faroe, but he wasn’t much help, so John was left to figure things out on his own.

Unfortunately, he quickly discovered that long hair was a nuisance. It frizzed at the slightest provocation, leaving John looking like he had just touched a live electrical wire. It tangled in the breeze and got caught in his shirts and his mouth, which he found utterly disgusting. When he woke from a nightmare (which was more often than he cared to admit), it would be knotted and tangled beyond belief like a bramble patch had decided to grow on his head. Washing and brushing it all out took longer than he had patience for. He supposed he could chop it short like Arthur had suggested, but the thought of anyone taking scissors to his hair made him feel sick to his stomach. 

Not to mention, Arthur had decided that they were going out to dinner tonight, and while John did enjoy being able to talk to people outside of Arthur, he did not particularly enjoy being the center of attention. People staring at him and whispering to each other always set his teeth on edge. He should be used to it by now. He was a big man, taller than most people, and his eyes were a peculiar shade of brown that turned yellow in the sunlight. It was a bit hard for him to blend in. But unwanted attention, whispers and points and stares, made him feel like the King again, and that made him feel powerful and powerful made him feel…nauseous. And messy hair, as he had already figured out, would only exacerbate that attention.

So, he was stuck here, in their tiny, shitty bathroom, his hair more wet and knotted than rope on a sailboat, trying to figure out how to get it to lay nicely on his head after a wash.

He supposed the best place to start was trying to detangle the knots. John took a deep breath in, picked up the comb that had been lying on the counter next to the sink, and began to try to pick some of the larger knots apart.

You eat the elephant one bite at a time. Just start with this side. The ends of this section of hair. Put the teeth of the comb in, and……

John hissed and dropped the comb. That fucking hurt. Felt like he was trying to tear his damn scalp off. He could even hear strands of hair snapping as he tried to ease the knot out. He stood for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to will the pain to disappear.

Okay. While that did hurt like hell, he wasn't about to give up so quickly. Deep breath. Comb in hand again. Same knot. Try it again.

“Fucking- ow, ow, ow, ow, OW.” The comb was stuck. On reflex, John yanked at it, sending a wave of pain across his scalp. This time, hot, stinging tears began to prickle across his vision, mingling with the water dripping from his hair.

“Jesus Christ,” John muttered, looking at the pained expression fluttering across his face in the mirror. There was some desperate emotion beginning to bubble up inside him that he tried to press down. He had to calm down. He couldn't overreact. It was just hair, after all. Nothing worth getting truly upset over. But just beneath the surface, that feeling continued to roil and churn, like a covered pot a few degrees away from boiling over no matter how John tried to turn down the heat.

Okay. He could do this. It was gonna be fine. Ignoring the dull roar of his emotions and ache in his lip from where he was nibbling on it, he grabbed the comb again, still stuck in his hair. It didn't budge. He tugged at it again, but still nothing happened. John let out a deeply frustrated huff and tugged at the comb one final time. 

Between the sweat building on his palms and the water from his hair, his grip on the comb slipped. John's hand shot out and slammed into the mirror, and oh Jesus fucking Christ. 

The mirror, in response to the impact, shattered, sending spiderweb cracks skittering across its surface in every direction.

John inhaled and froze. He stared for a moment at his fractured reflection. A dozen slices of himself stared back, looking wide-eyed, wet, and disheveled, a comb still hanging from the ends of his hair. A monster in a funhouse mirror. A part of his brain dimly wondered if this was how Arthur saw him sometimes, when he couldn't see beyond the bits of the King that still lived within him, terrifying and awful and incomprehensible.

The emotion in John's chest finally bubbled over and began scalding its way up his throat.

He yanked the comb out of his hair, taking the whole knot with it but he couldn't give a fuck about the pain anymore, and threw it against the floor as hard as he could. It snapped as it hit the tile. The emotion had made it past his throat and was now burning behind his eyes as John leaned back against the wall and slumped to the floor. Hot tears began racing their way down his cheeks. John buried his face in his hands and let them come.

He felt nauseous. He felt like a fucking failure. He felt like he should turn around and leave, and never let Arthur see his sickening, monstrous face again.

He was on the verge of getting up and doing just that when the bathroom door creaked open.

“John? Are you alright? I heard some noises and I just wanted to check-” Through his fingers, John could see that Arthur had poked his head into the bathroom. There was a second of silence as he took in the broken comb and mirror and John, curled up with his back against the wall.

“Jesus Christ, John, what happened?” 

John didn't answer. His chest was still too thick with hot emotions and his eyes still burning with tears.

“John, are you alright? Please talk to me.”

John let out a shaky breath, but still said nothing. There was a pause before Arthur said anything else.

“Oh- John, your hand, it's bleeding a bit. Here, I'll patch it up.”

His hand was bleeding? John's brow furrowed from behind his hands. The pain hadn't even registered over his panic and frustration. Suddenly, there were cool fingers on his wrist, moving the injured hand away from his face and out into the light. John saw that Arthur was now crouched on the floor in front of him, examining his hand for a moment. He used his free hand to wipe some of the tears from his face. He didn't want Arthur to think he'd been crying, especially not over something as stupid as his hair.

Then those cool fingers were moving a lock of still-mostly-wet hair out of John's face and  tracing along his jaw before coming to rest just beneath his chin, gently but firmly forcing him to tilt his gaze up to meet Arthur’s.

There was no judgment in Arthur’s bright eyes. Just faint curiosity and gentle concern. “Come on now, John. What happened?”

“I- I tried to- I couldn't…. Nothing. It was nothing,” John said quietly, averting his gaze back to the floor.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he stood. “I don't call a broken mirror, a snapped comb, and a bloodied hand ‘nothing’.”

“It was nothing you need to worry about. I'll pay for a new comb and mirror.”

“John, you and I both know that's not what I'm getting at,” Arthur huffed, grabbing antiseptic and a bandage from the medicine cabinet. “What happened? Was it an accident or purposeful? That's all I'd like to know.”

“I told you it was nothing. It's fine. I can handle it myself,” John rumbled, trying to inject as much warning as he could into his tone.

Arthur paused his rummaging in the cabinet and looked at John over his shoulder. “There's a difference between independence and forcing yourself to suffer because you think you don't deserve or need help, you know. I learned that difference the hard way.”

John was silent for a minute. 

“It's just… it's stupid. It’s so fucking stupid,”  he muttered. Just saying those words renewed the burning in his chest, throat, and eyes.

“Tell me anyway.” 

“I…. You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”

“I solemnly swear, I will not think you’re an idiot. No matter what you tell me.”

“I… I was trying to make my hair look nice for dinner tonight, okay? I washed it and was going to brush it out, but the fucking comb got stuck in my hair. And when I tried to pull it out, my hand slipped and hit the mirror and-” John's throat began to close with the frustration still boiling over on that stove in his chest. He realized there were more tears slipping down his face and desperately tried to wipe them away.

“Hey. John. Look at me. It's just a mirror and a comb, alright? They're both easily replaced, and-”

“No, I don’t care about the broken shit, okay? That's not it! It’s me I’m upset about. I feel so fucking stupid and clumsy and helpless,” John burst out. “It's just brushing my hair! I should be able to do it on my own! But I'm like a fucking toddler who can't do anything! I can’t take care of this body, I can’t interact with people well, and I can barely control my own fucking emotions! It's just complete bullshit!”

The words hung heavily in the air, and John was on the verge of tears again, his breathing sticky and shallow. Arthur was quiet for a minute, biting his lip in thought as he began to clean the myriad of small cuts on John's hand. 

“I don’t want to make you feel worse about being able to accomplish things on your own, but can I help you with your hair? Only if you want, of course. But I might be able to help get some of the knots out more easily. I could show you how to do it so it won't hurt as much,” Arthur asked carefully as he wrapped a bandage around John's knuckle.

“I guess,” John muttered.

“Okay then,” Arthur said, picking up the two halves of the comb up off the floor and placing them in the garbage. “I have a spare comb in the cabinet somewhere… ah, here it is. I have a hairbrush here, too…”

As Arthur searched, John silently moved away from the wall, making space for Arthur. After a moment, Arthur was standing behind him, using his hands to gently pull apart some of the knots towards the ends of John’s hair before raking the comb through. Somehow, in Arthur’s hands, it felt like a feather being swept through his hair. John had used too much force. He always used too much force.

John closed his eyes and gently leaned into the sensation. It felt lovely, a gentle push and pull, like waves lapping gently at the shore of a lake, or like a slow dance, the kind he and Arthur did sometimes on a lazy Sunday morning. He could stay here forever, he thought, sitting on the tile floor, Arthur brushing out his hair. But the longer he sat, the brighter the question brewing in John’s mind that he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. Not that it was a question he himself could answer. 

The question went along these lines: he knew he must be horrible to live with. His temper was thin, and liable to be set off at the slightest upset. He lashed out when he got scared or nervous instead of talking. He said horrible things and rarely apologized for them. He was working on it, just like he was working on everything else that came with being human, but he still knew he was not an easy person to be around. And yet, despite all of it, the broken mirrors and sharp words, Arthur still stayed. Arthur still helped him, still loved him, still treated him gently despite all the hurt he undoubtedly caused. 

What John wanted to know was this: why? 

Arthur was talking, John realized, and had been for a minute or two.

“Next time, try it like this, alright? Pull some of the more difficult knots apart with your fingers before using the comb or hairbrush. It seems as though it’ll keep your hair a bit more intact than-”

“Why?” John blurted.

Arthur sounded confused. “Well, because you don’t want to actually rip the tangles out of your hair. I think that would be pretty painful-”

“No, no, not about the hair. Why… why are you helping me? Why do you care?”

John finally opened his eyes and turned slightly to look at Arthur’s face. He looked nearly as confused as he sounded. His brow was furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned slightly down as he crouched down to eye level with John.

“Why do I care?” he repeated.

John nodded. “I’ve caused you so much trouble. Even from the beginning, I… I killed Parker. I got you involved in all of this supernatural mess. I’ve yelled at you. Said horrible things to you. Done horrible things to you. But you haven’t left me. You still care for me. Why?”

“John.” Arthur’s face had softened completely. “I would never leave you.”

“Huh. I would leave me,” John muttered.

“Well then, thank your lucky stars you’re not me,” Arthur replied, standing back up and returning to John’s hair.

“Believe me, I thank them every day. I do not miss that frail, twig-like body of yours. You could break a bone if the wind hit you the wrong way.” 

“May I remind you I’m still the one helping you brush out your hair, and I can leave at any time.” 

“Ugh. Alright, fine, I’ll play nice.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Ignoring the wave of heat the final comment brought up his neck and over his ears, John tried to return to the point. “You didn’t answer my question, Arthur.”

Arthur stopped brushing John’s hair and let out a small sigh. “You said you want to know why, right?”

John nodded again.

Arthur was silent for a long moment, his brown eyes growing warm and thoughtful. “I stay with you because of something I learned a lot about over the course of our time together: ‘Life is about survival. Love is about life with others.’ I’ve spent so long surviving on my own that it’s nice having someone else to survive with, and I don’t want to lose that. Even if you think you’re not worthy of it, even if you have caused me problems or hurt me in the past, I stay because I… I love you. I love you a terribly great deal. I stay because I want to see you survive, too, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens.”

“Oh. Okay.” John’s heart felt like it might explode in his chest from all the tenderness he felt for Arthur. “I love you, too.”

Arthur smiled softly. “Let’s finish your hair, shall we? We’ve got a dinner we’re going to be late for.”

John smiled back and nodded. 

The world was difficult and complicated, and John still didn’t understand a lot of it. He knew there was still a lot for him to learn. But there was one thing he knew for certain: love gave life its color and purpose. And if love meant survival with others, then he could survive with Arthur. All of the tangled hair and shitty combs and frustration in the world wouldn’t be able to stop him from surviving with the man he loved who also loved him. He would do it with pleasure for the rest of his days. 

[bingbongsupremacy]

Lonely Pt. 1

Pairing: Stranger Things x reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Warnings:

Summary: A few days after the zombie apocolypse took over Hawkins you lost everyone. Once you finally run out of supplies, you're forced to venture out into the town, hoping not to run into anyone and make it to safety alive. Unfortunately, life doesn't always go how you want it.

*Not Proof Read*

This Fic does not mention body type, weight, race, gender, etc. If I happened to mess up and add a pronoun or anything that could define the readers appearance, please let me know so I can fix it. Ty!

ABC List Stranger Things Master List

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

*****

People are evil. They truly. When things get rough the worst parts of us tend to leak out. Maybe it's from fear, maybe it's from adrenaline. Whatever it is, the worst parts of us tend to leak out, forever changing us.

Three days after the virus hit Hawkins my family was killed. A group of blood thirsty survivors tore through my parents' house, killing everyone. Well almost everyone.

I managed to get out. I'm not sure how, but I did. I ran until my lungs hurt. Until I felt like I would die if I kept going.

Flashes of Jason Carver, the athlete turned cold blooded survivalist leader, killing my parents running through my mind. The lack of emotions sent shivers down my spine. How can someone take the life of another and not feel anything? Not feel guilty or disgusting. Somehow the previous three days turned the cocky pretty boy into an emotionless killer.

The personality change is terrifying.

I managed to find a house away from the inner heart of Hawkins. Away from the people. Thankfully, whoever lived there left behind a good amount of food and water.

Unfortunately, food and water can only last so long. I knew this day would come. The day where surviving off of the pantries of nearby homes wouldn't be possible anymore.

Frankly, I'm not sure how I've made it 6 months on my own. I still struggle to kill the zombie things out there. I hide away whenever they come out, hoping they don't hear me move around.

I tuck the last few remaining bits of food into my backpack before pulling the heavy pack onto my shoulders. I do one last sweep around the house, making sure I have everything I need.

I tightly grip onto the kitchen knife in my hand. Hopefully I don't run into a hoard. There's no way in hell I could survive if I do.

I close the front door of the house I've been borrowing for the past half a year. I feel anxiety bubble up in my stomach. I'm scared. I can't deny it. What if I get bitten? Or kidnapped by Jason Carver's pack of assholes?

I have no choice.

The sound of crunching leaves beneath my feet and wind are the only sounds I hear as I step onto empty street. It's silent, the way it has been for months. The last time I heard something was when a small group of zombies wandered through the the neighborhood, managing to somehow stumble into every garbage can possible.

Any sign of human life is gone. The lack of animals is terrifying. Is everything dead? What if I'm the only person alive.

Will I be alone forever?

It's been hard being alone for so long. There's not much you can do when you're by yourself with no access to electricity or running water.

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss my fucking job. At least there I got to talk to people, even if it was a forced greeting.

I finally make it out of the neighborhood. Even though I haven't been this far out in months, I remember every road. I know exactly how to get to the center of town.

There has to be some place with food, right? There's no way Jason Carver could have gotten absolutely everything.

As I pass another neighborhood, I immediately spot the smashed in doors. Windows are shattered and belongings from inside and thrown around the yard. People have raided here.

In a weird way it gives me some sort of hope. Maybe there are people besides Jason and his friends that are alive. Maybe they'll help me.

Not everyone can be evil, right?

Not everyone is a murderer.

A few cars litter the roads, rotting people sitting inside. Some have turned and others are still, their bodies decomposing.

I finally make it to the entrance of main street. All of the surrounding buildings are smashed in. I pass a four car crash in the center of the road, dried blood staining all around.

The loud sound of groans fills my ears. A shiver runs through my back.

There's a zombie somewhere out here.

I turn onto a nearby street and immediately regret my decision. Dozens of zombies wander around the street.

" Fuck. " I mumble, fear crawling it's way towards my throat.

The heads of the zombies snap towards me, their dead grey eyes piercing into my body like a knife.

They have fucking super hearing or some shit. I'm fucked. I'm fucked.

I quickly turn to run down the street. The sounds of shuffling feet follows behind me. They're not super fast, but there's no way I'd be able to run for miles with them behind me. If I stop running they'd easily catch up.

Clenching the knife in my hand, I run as I fast I can off of main street. Maybe I can make it back to the house? Fuck fuck!

Fuck me. The side road is blocked by another group of zombies. My old neighbors, people I used to talk to every day, quickly turn their hungry eyes on me.

I'm so screwed.

I have two fucking hoards behind me.

I turn onto another street, hoping there's not another group on this street.

I'm so caught up in panic that I don't register the sound of a speeding car and gun shots.

A brown and white van speeds in front of me. The door opens as it quickly halts to a stop a few feet in front of me.

" Get in! " The man yells. His eyes trained on the group behind me. In his hands is a large shot gun.

I hesitate. What if this guy fucking kills me?

" Earth to girl, get in the fucking van! " Another man in the drivers seat yells, shooting the pistol in his dirty hands.

Fuck it, being killed by them might hurt less than being eaten alive.

I scramble into the van, immediately noticing the pile of tools and weapons laying around.

The man at the van door slams it shut. He clutches onto the back of the passenger seat in front of him as the driver speeds down the street. He turns his attention to me, immediately raising his gun towards me when the van stops jumping around.

I push myself against the van wall, fear coursing through my veins. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should've just gotten eaten. " Please don't hurt me! " I keep the knife in front of me, hoping it'll help somehow.

Who am I kidding, a fucking knife won't save me from shit.

" Drop the knife. " The man grunts. His face is covered by a short beard. His long frizzy hair is tied back into a bun, his head covered with a battered hat. A small scar runs down the left side of his face, near his eyebrow. His eyes look familiar but I can't quite place it.

Deciding it's probably best if I listen, I carefully set down the knife. " Okay, okay. " My breath is shaky.

" Check for bites. " The guy up front barks, glancing back at us from the rear view mirror. His skin is covered in splotches of dirt and grime, his eyes are covered with a pair of dark sunglasses. His hair however, reminds me of someone; Steve Harrington. It's neatly put up, only a few stray strands framing his face.

I don't have time to question the looks of the man up front before the guy holding a shotgun speaks to me.

" Show me your arms and legs. "

I don't hesitate to shrug off my bag and jacket. I pull up the ends up my sleeves, turning my arms back and forth before pulling up my jeans. I let out a small wince when I notice a large gash on my ankle. I have no idea where I got this. Maybe I scraped it against something? "

" Where did you get that? " The shotgun man asks, nodding down to my leg.

" I have no idea. I had no idea I was bleeding. "

" Tie them, E. " The man up front says nonchalantly.

My eyes widen. " What? But I haven't been bitten! I swear to god, I haven't been bitten. I-I'll take everything off and show you! " I offer, terrified about what these men are going to do to me.

Guilt flashes in the shot gun holding guys' eyes. " Look, until we know you're not dangerous or infected, we can't take any risks. If you're clear, you'll be out of this in no time. " The guy pulls a handful of zipties from his pocket. " Please give me your hands. "

I hesitantly hand his my hands, seeing no way out of this.

The guy quickly ties my hands and ankles before putting anything sharp in my reach in a locked box. He pulls a small red bag out of the box and scoots towards me.

I try to scoot further into the corner of the van, tucking my arms into my body.

The guy notices. " I'm not going to hurt you. " He pulls out a Band-Aid. " I'm gonna clean your cut up. If it's not infected with the virus, it's going to get infected by some other shit. The last thing you need is an fucked up leg. " His tone is slightly softer than it was a few minutes ago.

I allow him to take a look at my ankle. His cold hands pull my ankles onto his lap before he begins cleaning up my cut. The anti bacterial wipe stings but not bad enough to cause me to wince.

" Good news is it's not deep. Probably a branch or wire that scraped you. "

I take this opportunity to study the mans face. Small dark bags rest under his brown eyes. Over grown bangs droop past his eyes, pushes aside by him every once in a while.

Up closer I notice the shirt he's wearing. It's covered in dirt and blood, making it nearly impossible to tell it was once white. My eyes trace the familiar design. The Hellfire Club.

I was never apart of it, but I'd heard of it. I'd thought about joining back in high school but I was too scared. I worried they wouldn't let me play since I'd be the only girl in the group or think I wasn't good enough to join. I let my fears get the best of me.

" Eddie Munson? " I ask, my eyes looking up at the mans' face.

His eyes meet mine, widening in confusion. " Yeah? "

A little bit of relief fills my chest. I was never friends with Eddie, but I'd worked on a couple of assignments with him growing up. He was always kind and for the most part, did his part of the project. I'm not exactly sure why he got held back. He was smart, he just didn't seem to want to put in the hard work needed to graduate. It was like he didn't believe in himself.

" I'm Y/N. You probably don't remember me, it was so long- " I'm cut off by him.

" From world civ! " His lips curl into a small smile. " I remember you. "

My heart jumps a little. I'd always had a small crush on the dark haired boy. He was one of the reasons I wanted to join Hellfire. He'd talk about it sometimes during our projects, making it sound so fun.

" Is that Steve Harrington? " I ask, glancing to the driver.

" It's me. " Steve replies, his eyes not leaving the road. " Sorry, I don't think I remember you, Y/N. "

I nod. " I was 3 years older than you so we never really crossed paths. " I feel slightly more safe knowing I at least semi know the people I'm with. " Did we lose the zombies? "

" Yeah we lost them a while back. " Steve nods, his eyes glancing back at the rear view mirror every once in a while. " We're going to need to stop for gas soon, Eddie. "

" Fuck. " Eddie sighs. " Of course we are. "

" Should've filled the tank up when I told you. " Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie finishes bandaging up my ankle before gently fixing the positioning of the ties around it. " I was busy grabbing bullets. "

The van pulls to a stop and Steve shuts off the engine, making sure to take the keys out of the ignition. " Grab the tube. "

Eddie grabs a small bag. A small tube pokes out of the top of it, quickly disappearing when Eddie shoves it down. " We'll be back. " He reassures me before opening the back doors and jumping out.

I quietly lean against the van wall.

" Let's just cut them free. " Eddie's voice is muffled slightly .

" No fucking way, Eddie. I know you know them, but we still have to follow protocol. We keep them tied for at least a week. Until we know they aren't infected. Besides, we don't even know if they're dangerous. They could slit our fucking throats and steal our supplies. " Steve's voice is stern.

Eddie sighs. " They wouldn't do that. I know they would- "

" When was the last time you saw them, Eddie? High school? It doesn't sound like you guys were friends when they graduated. I'm pretty sure you'd be able to recognize them faster if you were. " Steve points out.

" Well, yeah but they're a good person. They wouldn't do that shit. " Eddie defends me, making my heart jump a little.

My stupid fucking crush is back.

" It's been years Eddie. You don't know them. It's been 6 months since shit hit the fan. People change, especially after all the crap that's been going on. They probably aren't the same person they were years ago. Look, nobody's going to hurt them. We just have to keep the ties on until with get back to the lab. "

Eddie gives up arguing. The two return and Eddie tosses the bag on top of the tool box. The van slightly fills with the scent of gasoline as Eddie and Steve close the doors. The source being the tube.

Steve rolls down the front windows, letting air filter through the van.

Eddie sits across from me, his shot gun next to him. " We're going to help you. " He reassures me. " We just can't risk that you aren't infected. As soon as we're sure you can get those off. " He glances down at the zip ties.

I nod. " I understand. Thank you for saving me. "

Eddie smiles. " Of course. Couldn't just let you die out there. " He leans back against the van wall, crossing his arms. " We've got a bit of a ride, sit back and relax. "

[persephosposts]

Chapter Four: A Face to the Name

TW/CW: cursing, regular HH stuff

Disclaimer: I don’t own the song or any of the HH characters

Walking out of Cannibal town to the center of the city, (Y/N) sighed as she cracked her knuckles. Sinners made sure to steer clear of the siren’s path, knowing what power she possessed.

Turning into an alley way, a shadow figure appeared on a blood-stained brick wall. It eyes narrowed at the direction she took, immediately creeping up to the alley way, it entered it cautiously. Scanning the area, it raised a brow and scratched its head in confusion only to jump when it felt a blast of light hit its stomach.

“You’re pulling my leg, right?” (Y/N) asked, appearing from her hidden place in the shadows, a powerful light beam coming from her palm. “You really think I wouldn’t notice some… thing following me?”

The shadow figure just shrugged its shoulders with its hand raised.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, shaking her hand to get rid of the light coming from her hand. “Tell whoever or whatever sent you that it’s not gonna get the upper hand on me.” She ordered, glancing down at the now permanent hole in the creatures stomach. “I’ve been here way too long for something like that.”

The shadow shook for a moment before slowly melting away, the Siren humming as it disappeared. She then made her way back to her original path, adjusting the skirt she was wearing as she did so.

Meanwhile, Alastor was at this radio station where he boasted his current broadcasts. Currently, his broadcasts consisted terryfying screams of past Overlords as he viciously killed them. It gave him a sick pleasure to know that other demons were listening to station.

Cleaning his staff, his gaze didn’t move away when he saw a shadow standing in front of him from his peripheral vision. “So,” he hummed with his signature smiled plastered on his face as he looked at it, “what did you find?” The shadows whispered incoherently, Alastor raising a brow as he looked at the hole that was in the creature’s stomach. When the shadow was done explaining, Alastor’s smile was tense as he snapped his fingers, the shadow disappearing.

When he was alone, the demon sighed heavily as he sat his staff to the side. Moving from his chair, he folded his hands behind his back as he moved to the window. His radio station was disguised to look like a regular apartment building, that way no passing demons would get any ideas.

Thinking about how his shadow explained how the siren had gotten the upper-hand on it, Alastor couldn’t help but feel… intrigued? Not even the most powerful overlords could dominate his shadow creations, so what made this one so different? He then thought back to Rosie’s words from earlier that day.

“And while it may not have seemed like it, (Y/N) can give you a run for your money. The same with her sisters.”

“I see then…” he hummed, his voice becoming more radio-like. Slowly, his eyes shifted into radio dials as his frame grew. A bright red glowing aura surrounded him as his staff came running to his fist. “I think it’s time for the public put a face to the Radio Demon.”

****************************************************

Entering a studio building, (Y/N) cringed when she heard some sort of off pitch singing coming from one of the recording booths.

Her and her sisters have been running a “record label” for a little while, just for some sort of side-hustle. Even though the three haven’t found a single soul that can even compare, much less compete with them.

“Stop! Stop!” Regina yelled, having had enough of listen to the demon. Immediately, the man closed his mouth, his eyes widened. “You really think you’re going to impress us with some Frank Sinatra cover that’s five cents flat?! Give us a break!” The green demon scoffed, the blue sister nodding from her seat.

“Yeah, it was rough.”

“Get out of my studio!” Regina hissed, her nails tapping harshly on the electric equipment. “If I were you, I would go fuck up the whipper-snapper that put the idea that you had an ounce of talent in your head!”

Crying at this point, the demon ran out of the recording booth and past (Y/N). The younger sister stared after him before moving her gaze to Regina.

“Absolutely ridiculous.” The eldest scoffed, rubbing the sides of her temple in annoyance. “Why can’t people just be good? Is it really that hard?”

“Now Regina,” Mary hummed, crossing one leg over the other, “not everyone can be as talented as us.”

“Well obviously.” The green demon snapped, rolling her eyes as she pushed herself out of her chair. “But we have zero clients! Zero. How are we supposed to run a successful business without any clients!” At this point, her eyes were glowing a bright shade of green, giving a dangerous aura. Her crystal was almost blinding as it refracted in the light.

“Regina, darling,” (Y/N) sighed, rushing over to her sister. Taking her hands, she did her best to calm her older sister down, “deep breaths. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Yeah?” Copying her words, the green lights slowly dimmed down. But this didn’t mean she was totally calm, just less irritated than she was before.

“Right.” She said shortly, moving her long hair over her shoulder as she combed through it with her sharp nails. “How was Rosie’s by the way? Did she convert you to the ‘lovely’ ways of cannibalism.”

“No.” (Y/N) sighed with an eye roll. “Though, something strange did happen on the way here though. I was being followed by this shadow thing.”

“Was it the Overlord Killer?” Mary asked in her more raspier voice.

“Possibly? I’m not quite sure. Though I made sure to send it back wherever it came from.”

“That’s what we like to hear.” She chuckled deeply, Regina nodding in approval before speaking again.

“I still can’t get by this Overlord Killer.” Regina hummed, moving to stare out the window. Their studio was located in the center of their district; the Music District. Demons who had a spark for that subject roamed throughout that part of Pentagram City. “I mean, why take down a few measly Overlords when Lucifer is right there?”

“Are you saying that it’s possible for Lucifer to be defeated?” (Y/N) asked in confusion, Regina snorting in amusement.

“Hell no! Of course not!” She laughed, shaking her head. “If the demon even tried, all Lucifer will have to do is snap his fingers and the assaulter would just disappear. Especially since he has a kid now.”

Before a reply could be made, there was a loud static noise coming from the microphone in the booth. Covering her ears at the annoying noise, (Y/N) heard Regina immediately yell at Mary.

“I thought you turned it off!”

“I did!” Mary snapped back, baring her teeth at her sister as she frantically tried to work the soundboard. “But now it’s back on and it won’t turn off! Stupid fucking blasted technology!”

(Y/N) winced as the pitch got higher, looking at the sound booth only to see a black shadowy substance come through the microphone. Raising a brow, she almost missed how the static became less quiet before an incoherent voice could be heard… singing.

As the girls grouped next to each other, the shadow became taller as the voice could be comprehensible. The male voice was singing no words, just a small little tune it sounded like to (Y/N).

“Doo doodle-oo doo

Doo doodle-oo doo

Doo doo doo doo

Doo doo doo”

Finally the shadow was formed completely, reveling the outline of the mysterious form. (Y/N) furrowed her brows, thinking she recognized him from somewhere but couldn’t quite place her finger on it. Until the shadow snapped his fingers, finally revealing who he was. The tall, red demon was none other than the Alastor she had met at Rosie’s that day. The three could only watch in surprise as the demon finished his song.

“Who cares what they're wearing on Main Street or Saville Row?

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe that matters

So, Senator, so, janitor

So long for a while

Remember you're never fully dressed

Though you may wear the best

You're never fully dressed without a

Smile

Smile

Smile!!!

Smile darn ya, smile!”

When he was done with his song, lots of clapping and cheering could be heard, but yet there was no one there watching him except the three sisters. The tall demon had a pleasant smile on his face as he stepped out of the recording booth, taking a deep bow. “Thank you! Thank you! It was an honor to perform for you, yes indeed!” As he revealed in the invisible audience, the three sisters shared a look.

“And… who are you?” Regina questioned, the cheering and clapping coming to halt immediately as Alastor laid his wide eyes on her.

“Oh, how rude of me to not introduce myself! The name’s Alastor, an honor to meet you three!” He exclaimed, shaking Regina’s hand and then Mary’s vigorously. But when he got to (Y/N), his smile widened as he took her hand. “But of course, we’ve already met. Haven’t we dear?” Feeling her cheeks heating up at being called out, she smiled awkwardly at her sisters.

“What does he mean by that?” Mary asked, raising a brow.

“He was at Rosie’s.” She shrugged, taking her hand away and moving go stand next to her sisters.

“Well, sir,” Regina began, making sure to be on guard, “how can we help you? You want money? Power?”

“Oh no!” He laughed, a cane appearing in his hand as he twirled it before setting it on the ground with a thud. “I have plenty of power, trust me. I just acquire some… assistance.”

“Assistance of what kind?” (Y/N) asked, crossing her arms. Alastor’s eyes landed on the youngest girl, his smile almost widening at her question.

“I am oh-so glad you asked, dear!” He hummed, folding his hands behind her back. “I want your help in me joining the Overlord Committee.”

“And what makes you think we can help with that?” Mary sighed, becoming bored with the situation now.

“Well, my dear Rosie told me you three are probably one of the most toughest Overlords in Hell!” He explained. “And I concluded with you influence it would be a piece of cake for me to join.”

The three stared at the smiling demon for a moment, each of them flabbergasted at his request. Finally, Regina took a step forward, putting a hand on her chest as she cleared her throat. “Listen, Alastor right?” At her question, (Y/N) swore she saw his eyes twitch. “Even if we wanted to help you join, Carmilla’s in charge of that stuff. We try not to…”

“Give any shits.”

“Yes, thank you Mary. Very classy.” Regina sighed, regrading from rolling her eyes as she stared at the red man. “And besides, we haven’t really exactly heard of you until right now. What makes you so dangerous that you should be considered an Overlord?”

(Y/N) swallowed a bit when she saw his grin turn more darker, the taller man leaning down to face Regina. The green demon pursed her lips at his expression, tilting her head as she waited. “Tell me, my fellow green demon,” Alastor began, his voice becoming darker, “who do you think has been taking care of your fellow Overlords?”

At this rebuttal, the three froze in their places. Did he just admit to killing their fellow colleagues? No way. Seeing their scared expressions, Alastor straightened back up, twirling his can in amusement as he looked around the studio. “I must say, what an interesting set-up you got here! Do you get clients often?”

“Hold the phone!” Mary snapped, Alastor raising a brow as he snapped his fingers, a red landline appearing in his palm. “What? No, not literally!” She scoffed at him, the demon humming as he snapped his fingers again which made the phone disappear.

“You’re the Overlord Killer?” (Y/N) spoke up in confusion. “But you seemed so… well, non-threatening at Rosie’s Emporium.”

“Oh my dear!” He laughed again, setting a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t even know half of what I’m capable of!”

Regina, who had been standing there in silence previously, hummed lightly in thought. “I see…” she trailed off, walking over to the demon. “Well, Alastor, if we get you on the council, what’s in it for us?”

“Well anything you want!” He exclaimed. “More power, protection. You name it!”

“We have plenty of power, and we’re already protected by the big boss himself.” Regina mumbled, looking at her sisters. “Let us… discuss. Yes?”

Dragging Mary and (Y/N) by the wrist, she led them to their spacious bathroom before slamming the door shut behind her. Locking the doorknob, she turned to her sisters with a deadly serious look on her face. “Well?”

“Well? What do you mean well?” Mary hissed, flailing her hand to the direction of the wall. “He’s a sociopath!”

“This is Hell, Mary.” Regina replied flatly. “And besides, if we don’t help him, who’s to say he won’t hesitate to slaughter us and broadcast our screams throughout Hell? Hmm?”

“I’d like to see him try.” She huffed, sitting on the the sink begrudgingly. Regina rolled her eyes at her sister’s attitude before looking at (Y/N).

“What do you think, little sister?” Regina asked, the pink demon being caught off guard.

“You want to know what I think?” She asked, Regina rolling her eyes but nodding nonetheless. (Y/N) swallowed a bit, running a hand through her hair as she thought it over. She had met Alastor twice without knowing he was the Overlord Killer, and both times she didn’t seem him as a threat. But now…

“(Y/N)?” Regina asked again, growing impatient for an answer.

“I think… it would be in our best interest for him to become an Overlord.” She answered, Mary groaning a bit at the statement.

“It’s settled then.” Regina said, turning to unlock the door. Opening it, the three almost jumped out of their skin when they saw Alastor standing in front of the door, his signature grin on his face.

“Sooooooo?” He asked, tilting his head a bit as he waited for an answer.

Regina closed her eyes as she took a deep breath before sighing. Raising her hand, the looked the tall demon in the eyes before speaking. “In exchange for an ally-ship, nothing more than that, we will help you become an Ovelord.”

Alastor chuckled as he shook her hand, a mix of green and red light emitting from their connected hands.

Tags: @scoliobean @xdolls-crownx @sugarrush-blush @enjisthings