#correction: ember's trying to write

[the-s1lly-corner]

What they call you (Helluva edition 4/4)

last part for now! if theres any characters you wanna see let me know and ill see if i can do a short little post for them!! obligatory i know ember is out of place here but SHHHH i like her i think she is very cool and fun to write characters: stolas, andrealphus, vassago, emberlynn notes: reader is a MAN for all of these guys except emberlynn, embers reader is gn and that reader will have alt names for gendered terms if needed, short post as its literally nickname stuff cws: none

STOLAS

what they call you: most of the names he calls you is dear and darling- my heart is another one he uses for you

what they like being called: lovely makes his feathers ruffle a bit the first few times you call him it

ANDREALPHUS

what they call you: my sweet, dearest are the main two he uses for you!

what they like being called: sometimes you jokingly call him bird boy- he... does not much care for it... loooooooves being called king, though! call him king and hes going to chuckle and agree with you

VASSAGO

what they call you: his muse, his harmony. though... the second one doesnt some out as smoothly as the first... sometimes calls you Mi Corazon (begging you guys to correct this, i believe its "my heart")- if you cant speak spanish it just pushes him to use the name more... he loves seeing the look you give as you try to decipher what it means

what they like being called: your songbird... cycling back to the above, he will be over the moon if you attempt to learn spanish and surprise him with a new name... it can be literally anything and he would carry it with him for the rest of his life

EMBERLYNN

what they call you: hot stuff, hottie, babe, and on occasional she WILL call you pookie. theres a lot more, but these are her main ones for you!

what they like being called: queen, sweetie... rest assured that as she adjusts to hell and its sinners/demons shes going to get a little too... excited... will make some insane petname demands, mellows with time as the relationship develops

[lunariatia]

i looooved before i break! will there be more parts? 👀

Before I Break Pt. 2 (Jude)

Fandom: Ikemen Villains Pairing: Jude Jazza x f!reader Word Count: 2.7k Tags: verbal tension/conflict, slow burn, potential dark romance, hurt without comfort, intimacy without touch, “enemies” with a complicated history, rivalry-turned-something-else

✦ Author's Note: Hello Anon! I actually wasn’t planning to write more parts—this started off as just a little character study to test the waters with Jude—but I ended up taking it further anyway! It really made me happy to hear that someone enjoyed it, (which is why I wrote another part) so thank you for that <3 That said… this one was a STRUGGLE!

You step out of Victor’s office with the mission file pressed flat against your side. The hallway beyond feels colder than usual — like the temperature dropped while you weren’t paying attention. The corridor outside is dim, washed in flickering light. It smells like stale smoke and cold metal — like regret, maybe. You don’t stop walking. Two weeks left. You’ve counted down in silence, carved every day into the walls of your mind like tally marks in a cell. The lights overhead buzz faintly, flickering once, then holding steady. A long, pale stretch of tile gleams underfoot, empty save for the man leaning against the far wall.

Jude.

Of course.

Jude is already there, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting too long and won’t admit it. Cigarette between his fingers, ember burning low. His eyes find you before you speak.

You don’t let your pace falter, but your steps start fading into the background, more measured. You’ve had this conversation before — or variations of it — each time having more thorns than the last.

He’s dressed like always: white button-up shirt, same black and purple coat hanging off his shoulders, one foot braced behind him, the other planted firm. A cigarette burns between two fingers, smoke curling upward like a warning. His expression is unreadable, save for the way his eyes track you with a kind of soundless intensity. Like he’s trying to catch you in a moment of weakness.

“Two weeks left,” he says as you draw near, voice low and rough. “Must be getting close enough to taste, huh? Are ya counting by hours or by the minute now, princess?”

You hate that nickname. But you bite your tongue — that’s exactly the reaction he wants. You could correct him, but you know how that game works. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to you.

“I’m not counting,” you lie, and it even sounds halfway convincing. You are. Of course you are.

He flicks ash from his cigarette, wearing a crooked smirk like he’s just won a bet. “Right,” he says, voice thick with sarcasm. “And I’m the goddamn Pope.”

You keep walking, but he peels away from the wall, flicking his cigarette to the floor. He falls into step beside you — close enough to be a presence, but not close enough to cross the line.

“Ya don’t seem like someone who’s not counting.”

You shrug, eyes flicking ahead, pretending the words don’t hit where they should. “You don’t seem like someone who cares.”

He lets out a low chuckle, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

He says it with a smirk, but beneath the surface, there’s a razor’s edge—cold and precise. That needling undertone, like a whisper of threat. He always does this: finds the slightest thread and tugs, watching closely, waiting to see if you’ll unravel.

He waits a beat, then drops the question like a stone in still water. “Tell me something. Do ya ever lose sleep over what we do here, or are ya just ignorant like the rest of us?”

You keep walking, voice steady. “No.”

He tilts his head, like your answer’s a puzzle he wants to crack. “Not even a twitch of guilt when ya close yer eyes?”

You give him a sidelong look, voice soft but firm. “I sleep fine.”

He exhales sharply, a laugh without amusement. “Sure ya do. Then yer either dead inside or the best actress I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a few.”

You say nothing, the words stuck in your throat somewhere between defiance and indifference.

The hallway narrows ahead, shadows pooling under flickering fluorescent lights. Somewhere far off, faint footsteps echo against the concrete walls.

Jude drifts ahead of you, unhurried, then veers just enough to block your path. Not aggressive — not quite — but intentional. The grin he wore a moment ago falters, his expression sharpening like the edge of a knife. His eyes drag over your face, searching for something he can’t name, and maybe doesn’t want to find.

“Maybe yer worse than the rest of us.”

There’s something unexpected in his voice — frustration laced with something quieter, something closer to need. But it sours quickly.

“I want to know what makes someone like you tick,” The warmth bleeds out of his tone, leaving something frigid behind. Something shifts — not in volume, but in weight. His tone turns clinical. Like he’s dissecting you, not speaking to you. “Because this place is poison. And anyone who walks through it clean either wasn’t breathing to begin with — or they’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding.”

His eyes remain fixated on you for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide whether you believe your own lie. Almost like if he stares long enough, the truth will crack open and spill.

But it doesn’t.

So he says, hushed — not unkind, but tired: “That’s the worst lie you’ve told yet.”

You angle your body to pass him, intending to brush past without a word, but he shifts in perfect tandem — subtle and deliberate. He doesn’t block your path, not outright, but he stays close enough that the space between you tightens like a drawn thread. It’s not touching. It’s not even a threat. But it hums, low and steady, like something waiting to break.

You’d expected him to let you pass — but he moves with you, seamlessly, almost lazily, as if it costs him nothing to close that distance. He doesn’t stand in your way, not really. Still, his presence curls around your spine like smoke, invisible but impossible to ignore. The hallway feels narrower. He’s not pushing — but you feel pushed.

When you reach the maintenance door, you stop — not because you mean to, but because something in his presence still lingers at your back like a hand that hasn’t touched you yet. Your fingers rest on the handle. “You’ve been following me for five minutes and haven’t shut up. Is there a point coming, or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”

There’s no room for second-guessing in his words; they tumble out swiftly and sharply, as if he’s been waiting for this moment far longer than you realize. The quiet hangs between you for just a heartbeat before his voice fills the space, “Yer not fooling anyone, least of all me.”

You keep your face turned, the dim corridor swallowing your silhouette as you let the weight of his stare settle on your back. Your hand tightens on the door handle as you speak, voice calm but unwavering. “I’m not a fool.”

Jude’s face sours, the humor draining from his eyes. “Ya don’t exactly sell it,” he says, probing as if daring you to prove him wrong, like he’s carefully testing you. “Beats admitting yer just another scared little hypocrite.” He pauses, then adds, voice measured, “Crime doesn’t suit ya.”

Your eyes stay trained on the floor ahead, unwilling to meet his stare. “You keep looking at me like I’m about to fall apart,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper, yet somehow almost like a challenge.

A hollow laugh slips past his slips, void of any warmth. “That’s because one day ya will.”

At last, your eyes lock with his, calm and unyielding. “This again? You must be bored if that’s your best shot.” 

He closes the distance between you, stepping just close enough to invade your space but not enough to cross the line into something personal. His voice drops low, laced with a bitter edge as he says, “Pretending must be nice. Maybe if ya lie hard enough, you’ll start to believe it too.” The words hang heavy in the air, sharp and unsettling, a challenge wrapped in something almost like pity.

“It’s not.” Your voice cuts, steady as a shard of glass—more defiance than belief.

Jude spits out a laugh, rough and ragged, like a wound that won’t heal. “Lie t’yourself all ya want.”

The corridor breathes around you—cold, unforgiving. Shadows pool in the corners, swallowing the faint hum of distant footsteps. The air tastes heavy, thick with unspoken truths and the weight of worn-down defenses. In this quiet, every word hangs sharp, every silence louder than before.

You feel as if Jude were holding a knife to your throat—you hardly could breathe. Your voice stays steady, stripped bare—calm, flat, but weighted with something unsaid. “Why does it matter to you if I feel anything?”

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t answer. His silence feels like words threatening to swallow you whole, to drag you down into a dark, empty sea where nothing surfaces. And when the words fall, they fall like a trapdoor beneath your feet—sudden, irreversible, and dark all the way down. Or… maybe more like a trigger pulled, and you’re the one bleeding. “Because it shouldn’t.”

“I care because I shouldn’t.”

You open the door like it’s the only way out. Like it might slam the conversation behind you.

But to your utter dismay, it doesn’t. He follows, and the weight of him enters the room with you.

Inside, it’s a forgotten wing of the library — dimly lit stacks and dust-laced air, where the scent of old paper clings to the walls like ghosts. Shelves stretch long and bare in places, like even the books have abandoned this part of the Crown. The overhead lights buzz faintly, too faint to fill the shadows. It’s quieter here. Not peaceful — never peaceful — but muffled. Contained. As if the walls are listening.

He paces a slow line behind you, the echo of his boots dragged through the hush like a threat.

“I don’t understand ya,” he mutters — more to himself than to you, but loud enough to land. “And I think that’s starting to piss me off.”

Your fingers trail along the edge of the nearest shelf, grazing the cracked spine of a book older than the dust it’s buried under. You press into it, steadying yourself. The air behind you tenses, thick with the weight of his scrutiny — but you don’t turn around.

“Then stop trying,” you say. It was a warning, not a plea.

“I’d rather be hated than ignored,” he says, too fast, too loud. As if saying it quicker might make it hurt less. As if he hasn’t already lived with that choice carved into his bones. It wasn’t aimed to wound — but they cut anyway. Almost as if he’s not proud of it — but it’s the only card he’s ever known how to play.

You stop mid-stride, the silence coiling around your ankles like smoke — weightless, but binding. For just a minute, the library holds its breath with you. No echo of footsteps, no shuffle of pages. Just stillness. And then, slowly, you turn.

Your eyes find his, and hold. Unblinking. Stripped bare of performative warmth, of pleasantries, of pretense. There’s no accusation in your gaze, no defense either — only the kind of stillness that demands truth from whatever it touches. It settles between you like a drawn line in the dust, daring him to cross it.

He doesn’t move. Not right away. But something in his face shifts. A twitch at the corner of his mouth, like a smile forgot what it was trying to be. A flicker in his eyes — recognition, maybe. Or recoil. And for just a breath — half a blink — he falters. Like he’s seen something he wasn’t ready to find. Like you stopped playing his game, and started winning it instead.

You lean in just a fraction, voice dropping like a stone sinking slow but deep. “So this is about you, then.”

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing with a sudden presence of something fierce lingering just beneath the surface. “Don’t flatter yerself”  he spits, like it tastes pungent in his mouth.

Silence wraps around you both like smoke — thick, choking, impossible to ignore.

Your footfalls bring you closer, and he stays rooted, not budging an inch.

His mouth parts as if to speak — then snaps shut, caught on something unsaid.

Finally, he lets the words slip, heavy, like a blade pressed just beneath the skin.

“If ya feel anythin at all,” he says, voice low, tasting like regret, “then yer human. But I’ve seen corpses with eyes warmer than yours.”

“Then I’m not the only one walking around pretending not to bleed.”

It comes out raw, without polish or shield, laid bare in the cold air between you. Too honest for him to bear.

He hears the weight of it instantly, as if the truth drags the sound down into the quiet.

And that quiet stretches — heavy, suffocating — like a steel trap locking tight around the moment.

He realizes now that he’s said too much, and he hates that she made him do it without trying.

You don’t reply, and there’s no need to. The silence stretches between you, heavy and electric. Instead, your expression shifts—barely perceptible, yet unmistakable—a subtle twitch at the corner of your brow, a faint softening around your eyes, a momentary looseness in the walls you’ve built so carefully. It’s as if something unspoken, raw and fragile, passes silently between you, like a spark of static in the dark. The moment hangs suspended, fragile and fleeting, before it slips quietly away, leaving nothing but the ghost of its presence. But he saw it. That small, almost imperceptible crack. The barest hint of a fracture in that blank face you wear like armour. And suddenly, the weight of it crashes down on him, a tide of regret rushing in all at once—regret for his words, for his cruelty, for the game he thought he was winning but suddenly fears he’s lost.

The shame settles heavy and raw in the pit of his stomach, a burning churn that rises fast and furious—not aimed at you, but turning inward, sharp and relentless. It’s a bitter, scorching fire fueled by his own desperate need for proof, his twisted craving to see you break, just so he might soothe the gnawing loneliness inside himself. But that heat doesn’t quell the ache—it only fuels it, driving him deeper into the cold. So he doubles down, hardening his heart, burying the shame beneath layers of ice and steel, determined to hide the cracks even from himself.

“Must be exhausting,” he says, voice low and clipped. “Playin porcelain saint while choking on the same rot as the rest of us.”

You hold his gaze, steady and unflinching, and in that fleeting heartbeat between words and breaths, it feels like you see right through him—not just the anger that flickers behind his eyes, or the guilt he wears like a second skin—but the vast, empty hollow that lies beneath all of it. The parts he buries deep, the fractures he hides even from himself. It exposes him. Leaves him raw. Like someone tore something open that should’ve stayed buried. In that moment, he feels stripped down, unarmed, as if you’ve reached into a place he never intended to show, a place he didn’t give you permission to touch. It unsettles him, this sudden revelation, like cold air on bare skin, and for once, he’s left utterly exposed—seen, and powerless to hide away again.

For a moment, Jude wondered if he was hallucinating—if that flicker of something real in your eyes was just a cruel trick his mind was playing, because deep down, part of him didn’t want to believe that the humanity he’d been desperate to prove could actually exist.

You stay silent, the words lodged somewhere deep and stubborn.

No response is needed—the stillness said more than enough.

The quiet stretches — dense and biting, like static in a wire about to snap, wrapping around you both like a shroud.

Finally, he breaks first, eyes flicking away as if the weight of your gaze is too much to bear.

His shoulders stiffen, arms crossing defensively over his chest, a barrier against the vulnerability that lingers between you.

The space feels dense, charged—thick with the tension of emotions neither of you dare name.

The cigarette has long since burned to ash, vanished between his fingers like a fading secret.

He doesn’t say anything else.

And neither do you.

But the emptiness stretches — not peace, not surrender, but a fragile, aching thread of something almost desperate.

It lingers between you, a fragile thread stretched taut, waiting to be touched.

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x FemReader) IV

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz

_______________𖤐

Red hand marks were imprinted on y/n's face from leaning on them all night, body folded up on the lounge chair she must have passed out on last night. Was it all just a bad dream? she wondered. Throughout the night, her fire had died and left embers, muddy footprints sat in front of the metal gate shielding her from them. Confirming that last night, in fact, was not a bad dream. Letters had made a pile in her hallway, falling in from her letter box. Satans "W" stamp in the corner of each one. Today was going to be fun. 

"Fill me in on every sacrifice, mister" Y/N said to the fishy sinner below her, rushing to her office all the while struggling to finish tying her red bow around their neck. 

"We have had very few that are worth while this morning. A Mister Valentino performed a seance an hour ago, wanting money" He adjusted his monocle, trying to read the tiny writing on the paper slipping from fin to fin. "He seems to be a big drug lord, i think humans refer to them as "pimps" these days". 

"Interesting, and very easy. Lets start with that for today" Y/n grabs the file, slamming the door of her office into her assistants face. 

"Again...?" He mumbles under his breath, nose slamming into the hard frame.

After a second of scanning the file, y/n nodded to herself. Now sitting in her spinny chair at her desk. "Okay, first one of the day. Lets get those numbers up for you Boss" She mumbled, tying her hair into a bun to organize herself for business. Purple mist surrounded her, filtering through the furniture and pouring outside the room like a floor filling her office. Mere seconds passed, before her body melted into it and became an atom in the air. Vents in her space inhaled the air, making a vile sucking sound like it had taken a hit of a cigarette. She was gone.

In another world, another country, with blue skies and a full moon. She appeared in another office, similar to hers. Only there was natural light filled to the brim, and a rather ugly satanic star under her. How tacky, she thought. "You know, valentino, you don't need all these props to summon me" Her voice came across rather menacing to the tall man sat at his desk. 

"Satan?!" He half yelled, almost forgetting he basically called her into his office. His accent taking her a little by surprise. 

"Of sorts, i supposed. Don't act so surprised."

"i... i didn't think it would actually work" His gold tooth shined through his smile that had creeped onto his face.

"uh huh, uh huh. You wanted money? Am i correct?" She sounded bored, they were bored. It was the same shit every time. 

"Yes... oh! And a bigger name for myself!" He added

"That all?" he nodded hastily in response to her question. "I assume you know what i need in return?" Again, he nodded to the question, hand already stretched out to receive hers. As soon at they connected, he felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his body, as if the life was being sucked away from him. When his eyes flung open, he only just caught a glimpse of the purple aura she faded into. Back in hell again. Not even 10 minutes later. 

"Thats a start i suppose" She mumbled, back at her desk again. The rest of her day consisted of hundreds of souls being taken from greedy humans. Some of them really freaked y/n out. They weren't all money or power hungry. Some just wanted help to hide a body. Which is a lot worse than you think. 

On the other side of hell, sat the radio demon in his tower. Broadcasting another voice for sinners to hear in their nightmares later that night. His dinner distracting him from thoughts that had been eating at him. Why doesn't she remember him? Didn't she ever care? He didn't look vastly different than he did when he was alive... other than the red hair, and antlers, and red eyes, and hooves.... and deer ears. But other than that, he was the same. 

"Stop it! Al!" Y/n hit him playfully as he kissed her cheek. "We are live any second!" She stifled a giggle as the ticker counted down. He smiles at her warm expressions, struggling to look away. They had a 'thing' for a while. Never really giving it a label. They wanted to, but there was so much going on they never had the time to prioritize a relationship. Oh how he regrets it now. 

The broadcast aired, mainly giving updates on the weather and the uprising war in Europe. Trying their best to offer some comedic relief to the distressed citizens, and telling them "Not to worry! Things get worse before they get better folks, look at me!" Alastor bellowed down the line, chuckles following behind him. The broadcasts always ended with a small, catchy jingle to sign them off. 

"You think things will get better soon?" Y/n questioned as the red light indicated they are done for the day. A moment of silent speaks for Alastor's thoughts, waiting for the right words to pop into his head. "The depression can't last forever, dear. Besides, as long as we are with the right people, nothing can go wrong" His hand ended up holding hers without a second thought, a soft expression washing over his face whilst their eyes connected in a shared feeling. "Thank you" She says.

She cared. She really did. Something must have happened to her down here. He refused to believe nothing could be done. Perhaps he just needed to make her fall in love all over again. 

"Good afternoon, sacrificial demon" He appeared from the floor next to her, resulting in her body jolting back and almost having an outer body experience. 

"Don't call me that" A scowl was thrown at him, clutching at her coat harder as the temperature for the day started its nightly decline. "What do you want now? Didn't already find someone for lunch?" She began walking again.

"Actually, i had quite a pleasant lunch" He responded cheerfully, she knows. She heard the broadcast. "No, I'm here to make amends"

She stops in front of him in the middle of the almost deserted street. Sinners giving them space when the sight of them makes their knees want to give out. "What is your game?" she throws an accusing finger at him. "You are either playing a long game with your future prey, or you have another goal in mind. So what is it? I'm sick of playing guess who with you. What do you want with me?" Her voice escalates to frustration.

"To get to know you, dear"

"What makes me any different from the other overlords you've made your midnight snack? Hm?" She cuts him off, her face getting closer to his in attempts to read him. The usual smile not daring to flinch from its position made it hard to. His static fell silent for a millisecond before his sharp teeth moved to speak. "You remind me of someone I used to care for" A softer voice scared her, almost genuine she felt. A uncanny sense of familiarity washed over her like a kiss wakening her from imminent slumber. "If i wanted to kill you i-"

"Already would have. I know, I know." She cuts him off again, looking at the floor in thought. "How do i know i can trust you enough to allow myself not to kill you?" Her eyes find his and his heart hits the floor.

"I suppose you don't know. But it doesn't seem like you have much to lose" She did have a lot to lose, but she couldn't care less about the empire she had been forced to take. A second was taken to think this through. It would be nice to have another friend. Or another purpose other than sinful business. 

"Do you like tea?" She began walking again, not waiting long for him to jog a little to catch up with her walking speed.

"Actually, i like coffee. No milk or sugar"

"Hail lucifer, you really are a sociopath aren't you?" Their voices faded down the the streets, his chuckle echoing behind them. Maybe he did have a chance. 

[wannaeatramyeon]

I'm not sure if this is the kind of thing you write but the idea was rotting my brain so I thought I'd try! Basically, I was thinking about Gun hunting down vampire!reader but she's just infatuated with him and is just excited for when he'll come to try to kill her again because it's an excuse to see him.

Anon, sorry for the delay! This one was FUN!

Vampire Hunter!Gun Park x Vampire!Reader

G/N

Stiff lifeless bodies, glassy eyes, pools of crimson.

No pulse, no heartbeat. Skin pale and blue. Left out in the cold murky night, dangled to Gun Park like a carrot on a stick.

He doesn't need to get any closer to the corpses to know this is your handiwork.

The trail leads to you, it always leads to you.

Your lair isn't difficult to find. You move around often enough that other vampire hunters can't track you down. Leave your scent so that Gun always can.

.

.

"You're here!"

Your voice echoes, bounces off the crumbling stone walls. Most would mistake your tone for a reunion between two lovers.

Gun takes a drag of his cigarette, ignoring the shadows fluttering around him. Amongst the flurry of movement, his eyes stay glued to one spot.

The far left corner. Shrouded in haze, an unholy aura emanating. It reeks of you.

You always make it so easy.

He takes a final inhale, filling his lungs and veins with nicotine.

Lets the cigarette fall to the floor, slipping from his fingers. Waits for the ember to extinguish, then lunges.

Leaps the entire threshold of the old manor hall in a blink of an eye. A blur of muscle and power and savagery.

You're barely able to track his movements. You might not be able to completely evade him even if you tried. But why would you? You've missed his touch.

Gun's hand is gripped around your neck as you're slammed into the wall, forcing the breath out of your lungs. If you were human, your back would have been broken.

You're not. It will leave bruises at best.

You think of it as a caress.

"Come to see me again?" You choke out, throat straining against the fingers pressing into your windpipe.

His hold tightens and you consider scrabbling for breath. Digging your nails into him and ripping his skin open.

"To kill you." Gun corrects, leaning in. So close you could taste the smoke on his lips. See the bloodthirst and interest in his eyes.

"Admit it," Your hand comes up, flexing the full force of your power and you remove his own with ease, "You've missed me."

"You are causing too much trouble for me."

"Gunnie," you purr with a wide smile, "Don't say that."

"Didn't I tell you I would kill you the next time I see you?"

"You always say that-"

His hand comes up again to your throat and he squeezes. Tight and constricting. He's relentless, always has been. One of the reasons you were drawn to him.

It’s crushing this time. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s too much.

Yet. When you try to free yourself, you find yourself completely helpless.

What the...?

You look at him, brows furrowed, trying to work out what is happening when-

You see the exhale from his lips. The vapour rising.

His eyes, turning from the warm brown that you're familiar with. That you've fantasised many days about. Clouding over, darkening, dimming.

Until they're completely obsidian.

Two pure white irises stare back at you.

Same as yours.

Shock, and fear, flashes across your face.

Two sharp fangs glint in the moonlight when he growls in your ear, menacing and low.

"This is my territory."

He sinks his teeth into your neck, and it is nothing like you imagined.

[obsessedvibee]

Glowing Embers

Pairing: Benny!austin & Kathy/reader in the bikeriders universe

Disclaimer: I know nothing about biker gangs. I read a wikepidia page about them to give me a bit of knowledge but that's literally it. I just wanted to write a story/smut involving Austin's character Benny. This fiction has nothing to do with the actual movie story line. I got this entire story idea from the Bikeriders trailer. But if you pay attention you'll notice some lines & short scenes I tied into here from it. (Obviously smut is not in the trailer, nor do I know if any will be in the movie involving him....but I sure wont complain if there is..!!)

Summary: Benny and Kathy find themselves caught off guard when members from a different biker gang show up at their home. And Benny keeping Kathy in the dark about what's truly going on leads her to accusing him of cheating. Smut ensues.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, overstimulation, squirting, cream pie, unprotected sex, a little bit of orgasm denial, light roughness, smoking, drinking, guns...I think that's all of it?

The breeze of the humid night air filtered in through the open window next to me, making my skin clammy. The leaves rustled in the trees nearby, a few crickets singing in the distance. It’d be a relaxing night if only Benny were here.

The sun set hours ago. Benny only told me he had some business to take care of before he left in a rush, the roar of his harley fading off into the countryside. I lost interest in the television three sit-com episodes ago. Now a book sat in my lap as I reread the same page over and over again, trying to will my mind to let go of the worry that grew by the hour. 

My ears perked when I heard a rumble in the distance. 

Benny. 

Relief flooded through me. 

He’s safe.

I left the book on the couch, quickly padding over to the front door, peeking through the side window watching for the single headlight coming down the driveway; but my excitement was short lived. Through the trees there were two bikes already waiting at the end for him. I held my breath as I watched Benny stop his bike. The other two men proceeded to get off their bikes and began approaching him. 

Something wasn’t right. 

In a panic I tore open the front door, “hey!” I hollered, running down the steps of the front porch. The gravel tore at the soles of my feet with every step. I had absolutely no plan as to what I was going to do to stop them, but distracting them was the first thing that came to mind. 

One of the men glanced over, noticing me, grabbing the attention of his friend. They paused their approach on Benny. “The young pup’s ol’ lady was waiting up for him,” the larger man spoke. “Ain’t that sweet of her?”

My skin crawled as his eyes followed me. 

“She has nothing to do with this,” the warning was clear in Benny’s voice as the shorter man continued his prowl towards me. “Kathy, get back inside.”

“And that's where you're wrong,” the larger man corrected. “You got hitched, so she’s a part of you now, boy.” He took the cigarette that was hanging from between his lips, and tossed it into the gavel. “You play around on our territory, we play around with yours.”

“That was never yours to begin with!” Benny snarled.

My arm was suddenly grabbed from behind, the shorter man's fingers digging into my flesh, making a pained sound escape my throat.

Benny lunged forward, “get the fuck off of her!”

In the blink of an eye, there was a slight nod from the bigger guy and immediately I was released. I quickly put space between him and myself. Benny shot past me going right for the other guy, a sickening crack was heard as his fist came in contact with his jaw. He stumbled back falling to the ground as Benny continued to swing time and time again. 

“Benny,” I cautioned, stepping back, trying to snap him out of his rage.

The screeching of metal on metal caught both of our attentions. The other man had a knife lodged into the side of the gas tank on Benny’s bike. With a turn of his wrist gasoline began to trickle out onto the ground below.

Benny shoved the beaten man aside, quickly putting his body between them and I. “Get inside, Kathy.”

I stood frozen in shock.

“Now!” he growled.

I flinched, snapping out of my frozen state, making my way back to the house. I climbed the steps, and as I reached for the knob of the front door a gunshot split through the night air. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun around, my blood running cold. 

Benny was holding a pistol to the sky, a cloud of smoke still coming out of the barrel. 

I put my hand to my chest, relieved he was the one making the shot. The two men got a pep in their step, hurriedly getting on their bikes and roaring off into the night.  

He reached behind him shoving his pistol back into the waistband of his jeans before making his way to his bike to survey the damage. Shaking his head to himself, he pushed his bike up the drive, putting down the kickstand to let it rest for the night beside the house.

He walked back to meet me, the porch light finally illuminating his face. He had a small nick on his forehead just above his eyebrow, a trail of blood slowly running down his face. His hands reached out to cradle my arm tilting it this way and that. Seeing I was injury free, he let go to cradle my face between his strong hands. He gently brushed the few stray hairs that were caught on my lips. His eyes were clouded with what almost felt like sadness. Disappointment maybe? 

“Benny, I’m fine.”

The brooding look on his face only darkened further, “those mother fuckers are lucky they didn’t leave a mark on you, or I’d have ‘em surrounded right now.” He let go of my face, turning away clenching his fists, as the rage inside of him grew. “They come here to my house,” he walked over to the side of his truck, “and come terrorize my wife!?” 

I flinched as his fist collided with the side mirror, bits of glass falling into the gravel. That alone hardly made a dent in calming his frustrations. He continued pummeling the driver's side window.

My patience thinned with every hit. 

When he finally got the window to crack, I decided I had seen enough.

“Benny, that’s enough.” I had seen a copious amount of violence for one night.

His wild eyes met mine, anger still boiling under the surface. 

I sat on the stoop, holding my hand out to him, “c’mere.”

He closed his eyes with his head tilted back, taking a few breaths before allowing himself to come over. He slowly placed himself next to me, his fingers fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. With a few swipes of his thumb a flame appeared casting an orange glow onto his face as he cupped his hand around it to light the stick between his lips. 

I stayed quiet watching him as he took each drag, the end glowing as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs before exhaling. With each breath I could visibly see him relaxing, as if he were exhaling more than just smoke. Like every breath released a stressor into the air.

I leaned back against the railing, my eyes looking out down the driveway, where the one single street light shined, casting everything into a yellow haze. The events kept replaying in my head, their words circling over and over again. What could he have possibly done to instigate them coming to our property and adding me to the equation?

He tossed the small remaining end of his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with the toe of his boot. “I’m sorry.”

I looked over at him, watching his eyes staring off into the distance only glancing down as I placed my hand over his. I waited patiently for him to continue, but he remained silent. I sighed trying to keep my own frustration in check as he chose to keep me in the dark. I stood up, pulling him with me up the stairs, through the living room and into the bathroom. I closed the toilet lid motioning for him to sit as I pulled a few things out of the closet to patch him up. I put myself to work cleaning his forehead and hands as best as I could letting the silence linger. I knew the destructive rage was sedated in him for now, but I could still feel something was off with him. His boot squeaked against the tiled floor as his knee bounced, and his eyes kept flitting around the room, looking everywhere but at me. 

“Benny, what happened?”

He bit his bottom lip shaking his head, getting up to slip past me.

I sighed in frustration at his silence. I put away the items scattered on the counter, and followed his footsteps into the bedroom. He was in the middle of shucking his jacket off, pulling his white t-shirt over his head. Quietly, I padded over to him pressing my front to his back. He was hot to the touch, the tension still rolling off of him. I reached for the handle of his gun, pulling it from his jeans.

He turned to me, his eyes flicking from the gun in my hands to my face and back again. I knew he trusted me, but I’ve never touched any of his weapons before. I never had a reason to. I rotated the gun in my hands, the light from above glinting off the metal barrel.

“Is this what this club is turning to now?” I looked up at him, my brows furrowed.

He ran a hand over his face taking a deep breath, “no.”

I dropped my hands to my sides, “we’re not going to get anywhere if you’re going to lie.” I reached over, placing the gun gently on the dresser.

“Wha-? I’m not lying, Kathy. This thing keeps getting bigger by the day! It’s bigger than me or Johnny ever expected it to become. Some of these guys just think they own the whole goddamn world, and they need to be put back in their place!”

“So it’s your job to start waving a gun around?”

He chucked his boot down to the floor with more force than necessary, “it got the job done didn’t it?” he stalked over to his dresser opening a drawer. “I needed to protect my territory.” He reached in pulling out some clean underwear. He shoved it shut, looking back to me before he walked back into the bathroom. “I needed it to protect you.”

I rolled my eyes following him to the doorframe, “oh don’t go making this my fault!”

He reached into the shower turning the water on before popping the button open on his jeans pushing them down and stepping out of them, “I know you wanna say it.” His blue eyes burned into me across the small room.

I crossed my arms.

“Since you have the answer to everything else, you have to have the answer to this too, right?” he sneered. 

“I want you to quit riding!”

“Don’t ask that,” he snapped, throwing his finger towards me before discarding the last of his clothing and stepping into the shower. 

I felt like I’d just been scolded, and quite frankly I didn’t appreciate it. I slammed the door announcing my departure before making my way to the kitchen and pouring myself a small glass of whiskey. I walked the house making sure each and every door had been locked and turned the tv off in the living room. I downed the rest of the glass, welcoming the heated burn down my throat. Leaving it in the sink for the following morning, I made my way back to the bedroom. 

He was already out of the shower, his hair wet, standing in just his briefs. “I failed you tonight,” he said quietly, tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper. 

I knew my mind jumped too far and too fast, but I couldn’t control it. Confusion suddenly filled my brain when the words from earlier resurfaced in my head. You play around on our territory, we play around with yours. They couldn’t possibly be talking about catching Benny with one of their women, could they? It almost started to make too much sense. 

He turned to face me, and upon seeing the look on my face he quickly defended himself, “not like that! Fucking hell woman why the hell would you even think that of me?”

“Well you’re not exactly giving me a whole lot to work with, now are you?” It was low of me to go there. Deep down I knew he wouldn’t, but the added shock and stress from earlier and quietness from him shortened my fuse.

He stepped forward towering over me, “you are the only girl for me.”

“I know- I know, I’m sorry, I- I- don’t know-,” My heart thudded beneath my chest as I stuttered at the close proximity, his damp skin and aftershave was starting to get to me.

“I promise baby, it has nothing to do with another woman.” He held my face with both hands, tilting me to meet his gaze, “you own my cock.”

Heat flushed through my body. 

“You need me to remind you?”

It took all I had to resist him, but I was determined to at least get one answer out of him. 

“How did you fail me?” 

He sighed, getting agitated as I ignored his advances, “I need to protect you, and I failed to do that tonight.” He ran a hand through his hair. “They got their hands on you, and I swear to god, I could have shot that fucker that touched you.”  

His masculine ego was bruised, being completely blindsided by being approached at our own home. Watching another man rough house me.

He needed something to make him feel back in control again. He still had all that tension coiled up in him. I finally took the bait. 

“There's no other woman?”

A sly smile crept across his mouth and his eyes darkened, sparkling from the bedside lamp. “Get over here, you little brat.” He snaked his fingers in the hair at the back of my head giving it a tug forcing me to look up at him. “One more smart comment out of you and I’ll give you something to fill your mouth with.” 

With that, he slotted his mouth over my own, his tongue entering my mouth quickly dominating. He pulled away with a little smirk bringing his thumb up to my lips pressing it inside. I swirled my tongue around his digit giving it a gentle suck before popping off of him. A growl resounded in his chest as he watched me. His hands reached down to the hem of my shirt and began tugging it up, exposing my bare abdomen to him. I helped him pull my shirt over my head, and my shorts hit the floor soon after.

He quickly pushed me back onto the bed and pulled my hips to the edge. He pulled my panties aside and dove in head first. I closed my eyes, letting him go to town. His mouth continued to work at my soft flesh, his tongue lapping hungrily.

Far too soon, he pulled away, and I whimpered at the loss. He yanked my panties off and discarded them to the floor. I anticipated the return of his warm mouth on me, but it never came. I propped myself up on my elbows looking down, only to see him with a little smirk, knowing and waiting. His arm flexed as he palmed himself over his jeans. 

“Benny,” I whined, as I attempted to use my legs to pull him closer. 

He hummed deviously, “I don’t think you deserve to cum just yet.” 

Oh. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. It was one of those kinda nights.

“Scoot back,” he instructed.

As I shuffled back, he stripped down, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. He made his way to me, placing my head between his thighs. “Open up baby girl.”

I opened my mouth as he lowered his hips down slipping his cock into my waiting mouth. His salty precum flooded my tongue as I swiped at the head. I tongued at every inch wanting to work him up the way he did me. His own mouth found its way back to my area focusing on my clit, flicking over and over quickly bringing me back to the brink. I lifted my hips searching for something more, trying to tell him I wanted something more, something faster, but he backed off again instead.

I groaned in frustration around his shaft, the vibration earning a blurt of precum from him. 

He started to piston his hips, his cock nudging the back of my throat. I gagged a bit, pulling a grunt from him. 

I reached down, unable to resist the urge and began rubbing myself, craving a good release.

His hips faltered, never having seen me touch myself in front of him before. “Fuck.” I felt his breath on my hand. “Look at you, so desperate for me.”

He quickly became jealous of my own hand and pushed mine aside and his fingers went to work. He rubbed vigorously, and it was only a moment later I finally reached my peak.

Feeling a bit of compassion towards me he pulled himself out of my mouth letting me voice my pleasure. I cried out as I rode the peak, my body convulsing with the waves of rapture. 

I eventually came back down to earth when I felt his hands at my hips flipping me over and lifting my ass up. “Time to fuck some sense into you baby,” he ran his hands up my waist and toyed with my bra strap, snapping it against my skin. “I hope you’re ready for a long night.”

I could only moan in response as he pushed into me. My wetness eased his entry and the tightness from my still-fizzling orgasm held his cock snuggly. 

He cursed under his breath and stilled for his own sake. “You were made for me,” he murmured, before pulling his hips back and pushing himself back in. 

He made work with his hands pinching the clasp of my bra, pulling the straps down my arms. It fell to the bed, but I too blissed out to even care to pull my arms out. 

Draping his body over mine he reached around and cupped my breasts as they shook with every thrust of his hips. 

I arched my back pushing into his hips to meet each of his thrusts, encouraging him to go harder. He quickly took the cue, his pace increasing. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, and his breaths became heavier. He mouthed at the shell of my ear, “you like it a little rough, don’t you?”

I already felt another coil tightening in my stomach. Goosebumps covered every inch of me as I felt his teeth gently graze my shoulder. One of his hands reached under me and started toying with my clit, making me gasp. “Gimme another one baby, I know you cum harder when you're sensitive.”

In the midst of dominance, he still managed to pay attention to the details. 

I fell into the throngs of passion again.  

He growled, as he felt my body squeeze around him. His hand suddenly came in contact with my ass, a quick bite to my flesh as the slap resounded in the room. 

I shrieked, the bed sheets clenched tightly in my fists. I shook with every tremor, while he continued his assault on my pussy as I rode out the euphoria, my core clenching down on him like a vice.

“Atta girl,” he praised, running his hand soothingly over the newly reddened skin on my cheek, moving to my back when I finally tipped the peak and started to come back down. His hand left my clit alone and pulled himself out of me making me groan from the sensitivity. 

I collapsed rolling onto my back as I caught my breath, my whole body tingling. Cracking my eyes open, I saw him sitting back lightly stroking his cock as he watched me. His cock was an angry red; his fingers lightly grazing his tip and coming back down again. “You haven’t cum yet?” I breathed.

He chuckled, letting himself go, laying himself over me. I instinctively spread my legs open for him. He nudged at my folds as he spoke, “I’m saving the best for last.”

My toes curled as he pushed into me again. He quickly began an unforgiving pace, his thrusts getting harder as his animalistic side began to surface. He began to grunt as the force of his thrusts grew. “Only you, baby,” he assured between his groans.

Moments later he rolled us over placing me above him. “Think you can finish us off?”

I bit my lip, trying to stop my smile. I sat myself up and began to rock my hips, shifting his cock deliciously inside of me. All my cares were thrown out the window as I moaned out into the room not giving a single damn of how much I voiced my pleasure. I could feel a new sense of euphoria building in me, and I was desperate to get us both there.

I pulled out every trick I knew. I reached back and fondled his sac for a bit, I leaned forward and let him mouth at my tits for a while. I could feel the sweat beading at my brow and my legs were starting to burn as both of us started getting desperate but neither of us wanted to be the one to let go first. I leaned back placing my hands on his thighs letting him watch my pussy grip his cock. I shifted my legs, getting a better position to bounce on him. 

“God, you are too fucking good to me,” he whispered stroking my waist. 

Pride swirled in my chest. I leaned my body over him pressing my mouth to his as I rocked my hips. Every tilt forward pressed his pubic bone into my clit making me moan. I suddenly felt something different begin to build. I sat up with a small gasp. 

“What is it baby?”

I reached for his hand, “just touch me.”

I placed his fingers on my clit and he began to gently rub but it wasn’t doing it. I touched his hand, “harder and faster,” I breathed. He obliged willingly. 

“Something's different this time.”

A smirk began to play on his lips, “a good different?”

I was almost heaving for breath as my peak continued to grow, “yea.”

He bit his lip shifting his legs to get some more leverage to help thrust at a better angle. “Just tell me what you need.”

A different kind of pressure was beginning to grow in my pelvis as I continued to ride him, his cock nudging a sweet spot deep inside me.

“Just don’t stop.”

He kept rubbing and kept pushing his hips up into me when the overwhelming sudden urge to push came about.

I let my body do what felt right. 

I squeezed my eyes shut and my jaw dropped as liquid suddenly spread between us and my head felt like it was higher than the clouds. A strangled cry clawed its way out my throat and I felt Bennys hands grip my thighs as he was catapulted into his own release.

My hand rushed to replace his hand on my now neglected clit as we both gripped each other for dear life. The pleasure tore through us simultaneously, both of us grinding our hips into each other prolonging the bliss. 

I slowly came back to earth when I felt Benny’s fingers digging painfully into my thighs. 

“Kathy- baby, baby- you gotta- hold on,” he moaned.

I stopped moving and he fell back laying flat on the bed, his abdomen heaving with his breaths. “Fucking shit,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to cut you short but-” he swallowed thickly, “just give me a minute.” He laid there for a moment with his eyes shut letting his body come back down. “Also, did I miss something, or did you just squirt?”

I half laughed, a little embarrassed by the wetness between us, “I honestly didn’t really know I could do that, I’ve never done that before.”

A groan escaped his throat as I gently pulled myself off of him, his release quickly running back out of me. “Benny,” I whined.

“Yep,” he replied, slipping out from under me, to grab a towel from the bathroom, “on it.”

Soon after we were both cleaned up, sheets changed, and we were both snuggled underneath.

He had me pulled into his chest, our legs intertwined, his fingers gently carding themselves through my hair.

“I’m sorry I accused you of being with another woman,” I murmured softly.

He let the silence beat for a few moments before replying, “I’m sorry I even gave you a reason to think that.”

The fan in the corner blew a cool breeze over us, and the sound of his steady breaths soothed me.

“It’s just so hard when I have nothing but time to think when you're gone, and then when you’re here, you hardly tell me anything that's going on.” He stayed quiet, listening to me. “You know how my mind works,” I added more quietly.

“I promise I’m working on getting things back under control, baby. Once Johnny hears of this, you won't have to worry anymore.”

He pressed a kiss to my hair. “Ain’t nothing going to happen to either of us, I’ll make sure of it.”

Need more? Check out my other works! > masterlist

[prettygreenpills]

A Love Woven in Shadows and Light - L. Weems x fem!reader

The air at Nevermore Academy carried a brisk chill as autumn fully embraced the grounds. Students in their navy uniforms buzzed around like the last embers of a fire, rushing to classes or lingering in corners to share secrets. But for Y/n, the day carried a weight that had nothing to do with classes or assignments.

Y/n had been at Nevermore for just a year, serving as a creative writing instructor after Larissa Weems herself had handpicked them. The principal’s calm authority and elegance made her a striking figure in any room. But to Y/n, Larissa Weems was much more than a commanding presence—she was the person who had unknowingly stolen their heart.

Y/n had always admired Larissa from afar. The principal was all poise and grace, with sharp blue eyes that missed nothing and a smile that could disarm even the most guarded soul. And yet, beneath her polished exterior, Y/n had glimpsed moments of vulnerability, like when she stayed late in her office, a faint crease of exhaustion on her forehead, or the way her voice softened when she spoke about protecting her students.

This particular evening, Y/n found themselves summoned to Larissa’s office under the pretense of discussing an upcoming creative showcase. With a racing heart, they smoothed their shirt and adjusted their posture before knocking on the large oak door.

“Come in,” Larissa’s voice called, warm but measured.

Y/n pushed the door open to find her standing by the tall window, the glow of the setting sun casting her in golden hues. Her platinum hair was pulled back into its usual elegant twist, and she wore a tailored navy dress that seemed to blur the lines between authority and allure.

“Ah, Y/n,” Larissa greeted, turning toward them with a small smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Principal Weems,” Y/n replied, their voice steadier than they felt.

“Please, call me Larissa,” she corrected gently, gesturing to the chair across from her desk.

Y/n sat down as Larissa settled in her own chair. They discussed the showcase for a while, the conversation flowing easily. Y/n couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way Larissa’s hands moved as she spoke, the way her voice carried such certainty.

But as the meeting drew to a close, Y/n hesitated, their heart pounding. They could feel the weight of unspoken words pressing against their chest.

“Larissa,” Y/n began, their voice softer now.

“Yes?” she replied, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Larissa’s expression remained composed, but her eyes softened. “Go on.”

Y/n hesitated, searching for the right words. “I just… I admire you. Not just as the principal, but as a person. You’re incredible—kind, intelligent, and so deeply dedicated to this place and everyone in it.”

Larissa blinked, her composure faltering for a brief moment. “That’s… very kind of you to say, Y/n. I appreciate it.”

“I mean it,” Y/n pressed, their courage bolstered by the flicker of vulnerability they saw in her. “And I know it’s probably unprofessional to say this, but I think I’ve been falling for you ever since I arrived here.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but not cold. Larissa looked at Y/n, her eyes searching theirs as if trying to decipher whether they were being serious or not.

“You’re not joking, are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” Y/n said earnestly. “I’d never joke about something like this.”

Larissa leaned back in her chair, a slow breath escaping her lips. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, her gaze drifting to the window.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” she admitted. “I’ve spent so long keeping my personal life separate from my work, especially in a place like this. It’s… complicated.”

“I understand,” Y/n said quickly, not wanting to pressure her. “I just needed to be honest about how I feel. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.”

Larissa looked back at Y/n, her blue eyes filled with something they couldn’t quite place—hope, fear, maybe even longing.

“You’re a remarkable person, Y/n,” she said finally. “And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed you. You’re thoughtful, talented, and you bring something special to this school.”

Y/n’s heart leapt at her words, but they stayed silent, letting her continue.

“But,” she added, her tone more cautious, “this isn’t an easy path to walk. There are expectations, boundaries, and risks. I need time to think.”

“Of course,” Y/n said, nodding. “Take all the time you need. I just needed you to know how I feel.”

Larissa gave them a small, genuine smile. “Thank you for being honest with me. It means more than you know.”

The days that followed were both torturous and exhilarating for Y/n. Every interaction with Larissa felt charged with unspoken tension, yet she remained professional, giving no hint of her thoughts on their confession.

One evening, Y/n found themselves wandering the grounds, the autumn leaves crunching beneath their feet. They had just decided to head back inside when they heard a familiar voice call out.

“Y/n.”

They turned to see Larissa standing beneath the lamplight, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Larissa,” Y/n said, surprised. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was looking for you,” she admitted, stepping closer.

“Is everything okay?”

She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Yes. In fact, I think everything might be more than okay.”

Y/n frowned slightly, confused, until Larissa stopped a few feet away and met their gaze.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she began. “About how you feel. And the truth is, I feel the same way.”

Y/n’s breath caught. “You do?”

Larissa nodded, her expression softening. “But this isn’t easy for me. I’ve spent so much of my life guarding my heart, convincing myself that I don’t need anyone. But you… you make me want to try.”

Y/n took a tentative step closer. “We don’t have to rush anything. We can figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Larissa smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “I’d like that.”

In that moment, Y/n reached for her hand, and to their relief, she didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers intertwined with theirs, warm and steady.

As weeks turned into months, Larissa and Y/n navigated their relationship with care. They stole quiet moments in the library, exchanged knowing glances during staff meetings, and shared late-night conversations that often turned into laughter.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Larissa’s fear of vulnerability sometimes created walls between them, and Y/n’s occasional self-doubt made them question whether they were enough for someone like her.

One particularly stormy night, those fears came to a head.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Larissa said, pacing her living room as rain lashed against the windows.

Y/n watched her, their heart aching at the uncertainty in her voice. “What do you mean?”

“This,” she gestured between them. “Us. What if it all falls apart? What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Y/n said firmly, stepping closer. “Larissa, I know you’re scared. I am too. But I care about you, and I want to be here for you—for us.”

Larissa stopped pacing and looked at them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple,” Y/n admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

After a moment, Larissa sighed and allowed herself to sink into Y/n’s embrace. They held her tightly, their hand gently running along her back as the storm raged outside.

In time, they grew stronger together, learning to trust not only each other but also themselves. Their love became a source of light in the often-shadowed halls of Nevermore, a quiet but undeniable force that brought warmth to both their lives.

And as the seasons changed once more, Y/n realized that loving Larissa was not just a choice—it was the best decision they had ever made.

[paxopalotls]

RAHH i just read both your tue danny / phantom / dan centric works, and how does it feel to be so correct and compelling and correct? more seriously - what about TUE / TUE Danny do you find most interesting to explore? do you have any characterization / headcanon that isn't necessarily canon compatible? and free space (please ramble about them as much as you want)

Sorry it's taken me so long to go through my inbox! I hope you don't mind the long text; TUE is one of my favorite episodes and Dan is a character that I find very fascinating.

Thank you for the kind words aahh! I don't often write so it means a lot that you liked my works. For context if anyone else is reading this, I wrote a couple IB fics about Dan/Phantom, and my thoughts about him, which I'll elaborate on here.

I have a lot of feelings about Dan, especially since he as a character is so tragic. It's strange to me that no one ever mentions the fact that when Vlad performed the removal of Danny's human half, it was Phantom that betrayed Vlad, not the other way around. I always thought that meant there was something wrong with Dan after the accident also. I delve into it a little in my fic, but I do have more thoughts about his attitude. It's interesting to me that the comic portrays his actions as being motivated by Vlad's self preservation and selfishness, and I don't necessarily disagree, but I do think it's more complicated than that. I personally believe his actions have a very complex motivation, more than just "Vlad is evil so fusing with him made Danny also evil".

It's difficult to deal with grief, and from the few scenes shown, it seems Dan dealt with it by shutting down. I also think he had a lot of conflicting feelings of grief and rage; Danny was the one who regularly defeated the ghosts, but he was also the one protecting them from the human ghost hunters, releasing the ghosts back into the GZ rather than allowing them to be taken for experimentation. I think it would anger him that his lenience towards the ghosts was taken advantage of, leading to the deaths of his friends and family. Vlad never showed an inclination towards abusing the ghosts, so this is what I believe caused him to do such uncharacteristically violent things like paralyze Johnny 13 from the waist down, permanently damage one of Box Ghost's eyes and one of his hands, and destroy Ember's vocal cords.

Something I touched on in my fic too is that I believe Danny has a weird relationship with death, due to the fact that he managed to come back from it, and also due to the general existence of ghosts in his life. AGIT states that all ghosts are people who've died, as well as that some lose their humanity over time. Due to this, I have a belief/theory that Dan expected his friends, if not family, to come back, and when they didn't, he dealt with his loneliness through anger. In TUE, he acts like he doesn't care about any of them, but I think he actually cares too much. He is caustic and taunting towards them, his parents especially, because his anger at them for hurting him is compounded by his grief at their loss.

In addition, the interference of Clockwork probably also contributed to his anger; there are two timelines that exist, the one where Danny lost and the one where he didn't, and the only reason that he won was because of the interference of Time himself. I think this is a lot of what motivates Dan's actions in TUE; he's trying to prove to Danny that the timeline is "inevitable" because he's trying to prove it to himself. His loved ones have already died, and he's angry that this alternate Danny gets a second chance. The only moment of true vulnerability we see in him during TUE is when he realizes that Jazz, his Jazz from his timeline, had always known who he was. It's obvious that despite his efforts to seem unemotional about everything, all of his actions are due to his turbulent emotions, and this is even more evident in canon due of AGIT confirming that ghosts are beings of emotion.

I do think Vlad's emotional state also compounds with this, since Vlad as a character is more prone to hiding his hurts than Danny, which is a large part of what makes up Dan's personality. In addition, Vlad's character is largely driven by a desire for family and affection, but he responds to this insecurity with a need for control and self-aggrandizement. Vlad's goals throughout the show are to amass power, largely to prove himself to those he cares about - Danny and Maddie - as well as to spite those he hates - Jack. His feelings for Jack seem more complicated than that, however; he is upset at what he sees as a betrayal by someone he obviously cared about; the two of them were best friends and roommates before Maddie was in the picture.

I think both Danny and Vlad center a lot of themselves on the people they love, though it's more evident on Vlad's side, and Dan as a combination of them does as well. His tendency is often similar to "splitting" in BPD, where he responds to a perceived betrayal or personal weakness with volatility, which is something Vlad does as well, with Jack, Maddie in some ways and especially with Danny. Dan as well responds with hostility towards people he is attached to who he perceives as hurting him, something that is complicated by the fact that part of what he blames them for is the fact that they died. He is especially ruthless with people he sees as betraying him or his lenience, like Valerie and the ghost rogues gallery; this is also a combination of Vlad and Danny's personalities. Vlad's hatred tends to be more long-standing than Danny's but he also tends to be more methodical with his actions. Danny on the other hand responds to his own anger with immediate aggression, but lets go of slights relatively quickly. Dan, as the combination of the two, holds grudges for a long time, but tends to rely on brute force rather than long term plans like Vlad would have.

He also has a lot of self-loathing, which he projects onto Danny and Vlad from this timeline, Danny especially. As I mentioned earlier, a large factor in this is Clockwork's direct involvement in the current timeline, which superseded his. In addition, I think that Danny and Vlad's interpersonal dynamic might have fed into this; both of them can't bring themselves to permanently harm the other but they do both hold some level of resentment for the other, Danny more-so since Vlad has an attachment to him. Danny's hatred for Vlad especially seems to derive in part from his own fears about himself and his selfishness, and I think that influences the way Dan interacts with both of them.

TLDR: Dan's specific concoction of mental illness derives from both Vlad and Danny, which affects a lot about how he acts and feels. There's a lot to explore about his trauma and how that relates to his new place in the current timeline, and I have a lot of feelings about him. (He makes me sad!!)

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hi, I don't know if you could write for Angel Dust x Reader, but if you could, I let my request here: It's a platonic relationship between Angel and Human!Witch!Reader. The reader (are a young and inexperienced witch) go to Hell for to find a rare talisman that it should not be there. And in their way they meet Angel, that he give his help to them. Thank you and have a good day.

A/N: HIII!!! Thank you so much for your request!! I’m trying to write for more Hazbin Hotel characters so thank you so much for this request!! I hope this was what you had in mind!!

Navigation!!

The air in Hell was heavier than they expected. Thick with smoke and the scent of burning embers, it clung to their skin, seeping into their lungs like an unwelcome guest. They had read about this place in books, whispered about it in circles of the more experienced witches who warned of its dangers. But the talisman was here—buried somewhere in the depths of this infernal realm—and they had no choice but to find it.

Their fingers trembled as they traced the protective rune on their wrist, a faint glow flickering before fading into their skin. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. The weight of inexperience sat on their shoulders, a reminder that they had no real plan beyond survival.

They took careful steps through the charred wasteland, the heat distorting the air in waves. Shadows danced at the edges of their vision, creatures lurking just beyond reach. They had expected to be alone, but Hell had a way of making sure no one ever truly was.

And then, they saw him.

The angel was unlike anything that belonged in this forsaken place. Standing amidst the ruin, his golden hair caught the dim light of the smoldering landscape, a stark contrast to the dark world around him. His wings—far too brilliant to be anything but celestial—were tucked neatly behind him, their edges glowing faintly with an unearthly radiance.

He should not have been here. Just as they should not have been here.

The witch hesitated, tightening their grip on the satchel slung across their body.

“You’re lost.” The angel’s voice was calm, edged with something unreadable. Not quite pity, not quite amusement.

“I know where I’m going,” they replied, though they weren’t sure it was the truth.

The angel tilted his head, studying them with sharp, knowing eyes. “No, you don’t.”

A frustrated sigh left their lips. “I don’t need help.”

“You do,” he corrected, taking a slow step forward. His presence was steady, unwavering, as if untouched by the oppressive heat of this place. “You wouldn’t be down here if you didn’t.”

They swallowed hard. They didn’t have time for this. The longer they stayed, the more dangerous it became. Every second wasted was another second closer to something finding them—something far less kind than an angel.

“I just need a talisman,” they admitted. “It’s not supposed to be here. I don’t know how it ended up in Hell, but it needs to be taken back before—”

“Before it falls into the wrong hands.” The angel finished the thought for them, a faint frown crossing his lips. “That is why I’m here as well.”

They blinked. “You’re looking for it too?”

He nodded. “Objects of power do not belong in Hell. Or in the hands of those who would misuse them.” His gaze flickered over them, as if considering something. “You’re young.”

Their pride flared at the observation. “I can handle myself.”

His expression remained unreadable. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be alone.”

They opened their mouth to argue, but he was already moving. With a grace that seemed almost effortless, he gestured for them to follow. “You won’t last on your own,” he said simply. “Come.”

For a moment, they hesitated. Trusting an angel was not something they had ever considered. Witches and angels did not often cross paths, and when they did, it was rarely without conflict.

But Hell was vast and unforgiving.

And he was offering help.

With a begrudging sigh, they fell into step beside him.

⸻

Traveling through Hell was worse than they had imagined. The landscape twisted with every step, shifting like a living thing, making it impossible to map out a proper route. What was once a path would crumble into an abyss the moment they turned their back, and places that seemed safe would suddenly come alive with unseen threats.

But the angel—whose name he had not yet given—moved without hesitation. As if Hell itself could not touch him.

At first, they walked in silence, the witch too focused on keeping up, the angel too focused on whatever unspoken purpose he held.

But eventually, curiosity won.

“You don’t seem like you belong here,” they said, breaking the quiet.

The angel glanced at them. “Neither do you.”

“Yeah, but I have a reason to be here. I doubt angels just drop in for visits.”

There was a pause, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “We intervene when necessary.”

“And this talisman is necessary?”

“Yes.”

The witch frowned, kicking at the scorched ground beneath their feet. “Why does an angel care about something like this?”

“Because it is dangerous,” he said simply. “And it should not have ended up here.”

“You think someone put it here on purpose?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stopped, wings shifting slightly as his gaze swept across the desolate terrain ahead. The witch followed his line of sight and felt a chill creep down their spine.

There, barely visible through the smoke and flickering embers, was the entrance to what looked like a cavern. The air around it shimmered with unnatural heat, dark energy pulsing faintly from within.

“It’s there,” the angel said.

The witch tightened their grip on their satchel, their heart hammering in their chest. They hadn’t expected to find it so soon. Or so… unguarded.

Which meant it wasn’t.

“Something’s waiting,” they murmured.

The angel nodded. “Stay behind me.”

They bristled. “I can—”

“You can’t,” he interrupted. “Not against what waits inside.”

They wanted to argue, but the weight of his words settled in their gut like a warning.

He stepped forward first, the glow of his presence pushing back the oppressive darkness. The witch followed, every nerve on edge as they crossed the threshold.

The cavern was worse than it looked from the outside. Shadows slithered along the walls, whispering in tongues they didn’t understand. The air was thick with something unseen, pressing against their skin like invisible hands.

And at the center of it all, resting atop a jagged altar of blackened stone, was the talisman.

It was a simple thing—small, unassuming—yet the moment they laid eyes on it, they felt its power.

“We take it and leave,” the angel murmured.

But before either of them could move, the shadows stirred.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the cavern, and from the darkness, something moved.

The witch barely had time to react before the angel stepped in front of them, a blinding light radiating from his outstretched hand. The creature—a twisted, grotesque thing with too many limbs and eyes that gleamed like molten gold—let out a piercing shriek, recoiling from the angel’s light.

It lunged.

The witch barely had time to brace before a wave of energy slammed into them, sending them crashing against the cavern wall.

They gasped, dazed, as the fight unfolded before them—light and darkness clashing in a chaotic dance. The angel fought with an effortless precision, his form barely moving as he deflected each strike, his radiance cutting through the creature’s writhing mass.

But it wasn’t enough.

The witch forced themselves to their feet, reaching into their satchel with shaking hands. They weren’t strong. They weren’t experienced. But they weren’t useless either.

With a deep breath, they traced a sigil in the air, their magic flaring weakly before launching toward the creature. It wasn’t much—just a small burst of force—but it was enough.

Enough to distract it.

Enough for the angel to strike.

With a final burst of light, the creature let out an anguished scream before dissolving into nothingness.

Silence followed.

The witch exhaled shakily as the angel turned to them, expression unreadable.

“You are reckless,” he said.

“So are you,” they shot back.

For the first time, something like amusement flickered in his gaze.

They both turned to the altar.

The talisman was waiting.

And together, they reached for it.

[viking-raider]

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT > PART THREE

Summary-> Alexa and Henry leave their villa to explore the beauty of Costa Rica, with an unblinking eye trailing behind them.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 5.7k

Parts-> I II

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter, Anxiety

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> Dragon_Dweller

– The Hike –

Alexa pulled her loose cotton, deep arm-hole tank top over her bikini, while Henry packed a day bag for them to take on their hike.

“Right, we're all packed.” He smiled, coming to stand in the bathroom doorway. “Figured we could stop in town for some lunch items, and if we need anything else before we head to the start of the trail.” He informed her, watching her tug on a pair of short, board shorts with a print pattern on each hip, over her bikini bottoms.

“I love the sound of that. We can also browse the local life.” Alexa smiled, a tingle in her stomach knowing Henry was distracted by seeing so much of her body.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Great.” She nodded, patting him on the chest as she breezed by him, into the bedroom; mentally reminding herself not to look at the camera that was there filming the whole thing.

With their little hiking bag packed and a rental car for them waiting in the drive, Henry and Alexa loaded up. Jesse followed them from a car in the back, having mounted a couple cameras in ideal places on the rental car to film them.

“Wow, this place is so gorgeous.” Henry commented, looking out the window as he drove them into town.

“Just wait until we hit the trails.” Alexa smiled, lounging back in the passenger seat. “It's a whole other world. It feels like you've been lost in some 18th Century adventure book; deep in the forest as you look for the coveted and cured gold of an ancient God, that the natives warn you not to go near.”

Henry looked over at her, smirking. “Bookworm?” He chuckled, teasingly.

“The word is, Bibliophile.” She corrected him, with feigned offense. “Thank you very much.”

“Oh, my apologies, Bibliophile.” He laughed, amused. “But, I can see it, this place does give you an enchanted feeling.” He sighed, as the town of Tamarindo came into view.

Tamarindo bustled with life, an assortment of shops, brightly colored and close together, showed their wares in windows, balconies and sidewalks. Signs announcing what each shop and pop-up cart was selling to whomever stopped by to look, from fellow tourists to locals.

Henry found a place to park and got out with Alexa, the both of them casting their eyes around, taking everything in and trying to pinpoint the place, or places, that would help them achieve their goal for a picnic on their hike.

“Something smells amazing.” Alexa commented, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

“Could be anything.” Henry chuckled, noting the several street vendors and restaurants.

“I need it.” Alexa said softly, her blue eyes slightly out of focus.

Henry looked down at her, cocking a brow at the almost manic look she had on her face. “Do you?” He asked, a soft smirk tugging up one corner of his lip.

“Yes.” She nodded, looking up at him with an eye twitch.

“You little gremlin.” Henry laughed, his whole body vibrating with its mirth.

“You best get used to it, Bowser.” She giggled back, before skipping forward in search of what she smelled.

Henry watched her skip off, his head cocked to the side as she paused at a stall with trinkets displayed on it, giving the woman running it a sweet smile as she did. He felt the embers of passion for her heat up even more, forming a teeny flame that Henry couldn't deny was the start of him really falling for her. Recalling himself, as Alexa looked back to see where he was, Henry moved to join her, nodding to the vendor.

“Hola, cómo estás?” She greeted him with a sweet smile.

“Hola, estoy bien.” Henry echoed with the limited amount of the language he knew, making her chuckle at his accented Spanish.

“These are so beautiful.” Alexa cooed, examining a black skirt with bright and colorful, intricate patterns along the bottom hem and inside. She looked up at the woman, holding up the hem for her to see. “You?” She asked, hoping the other woman understood what she was implying with her minimal knowledge of Spanish.

The woman smiled wide, understanding, and nodded with clear pride. “Sí.”

“How much?” She asked, brows raised.

“Treinta colón.” She answered, signing three and zero with her fingers in emphasis.

Nodding, Alexa dug into the little bag she had resting on her hip, retrieving the colónes that Riah had supplied her and Henry before leaving the house, supplying the woman the right amount of money for the skirt she had handmade herself. Taking the curled notes from Alexa's hand, she stashed them away in a locked box somewhere behind her stall, before motioning to Alexa to pick one of the skirts. Alexa peeked through them, admiring her craft and amazing needlework with the fabric. None of it lacked color and all of the patterns were unique in their own right, fascinating and awing her.

“What do you think?” Alexa asked, looking up at Henry for his opinion between the two skirts she was conflicted on.

“Hm.” He hummed, looking between them with a cocked brow. “They're both very beautiful.” He commented, reaching out to touch the cotton fabric. “Personally,” He said, finally. “I like this one. It's super colorful and seems like it would be...light and free. It makes me think of you.”

Alexa blushed, biting the inside of her lip at his comment, as she looked up at him, before looking down at the skirt he was referencing. It was red with a kaleidoscope of circular patterns, and blue top and bottom hems. Smiling, she picked that one out of the bunch, motioning to the woman that she had made her choice, and she nodded her understanding. Alexa and Henry moved on, observing the other stalls that lined the street and peeked in the windows of the shops, before they finally found the local grocery store and popped inside.

Grabbing one of little metal baskets, Henry and Alexa browsed the modest aisles, plucking up a couple things that caught their eye for their picnic. Something else grabbed Henry's attention as they reached the back of the store.

“Hey, I'll just be one second.” He said, resting his hand on the small of her back. “I'll meet you at the register.”

“Okay.” Alexa nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, before continuing on, grabbing a couple more things off the shelf, before she headed to pay for everything, tossing a glance over her shoulder to look for Henry, but only found Jesse following her instead.

But Henry appeared as she bagged their items, offering her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just wanted to check something out.” He told her, grabbing a few items and helping her put them in the plastic bag. “I'm looking forward to this hike with you.” He admitted, taking the bag and heading out with her. “Part of me wishes this was happening around the time the Durrell Challenge occurs.”

“When does that happen?” Alexa asked, curiously.

“It happened in May.” He told her, holding an arm out to stop her from crossing, as a car appeared up the street. “So, we missed it.”

“There's always next time.” She replied, watching the car go by. “Not like we won't be together.”

Henry looked down at her, struck. “That's more than true.” He answered softly, crossing and following her along the street, observing the shops as they made their way back to their vehicle. “So, wife, where is our trail?” He asked, reaching into the back, for the pack he had their stuff in and tucked their lunch inside.

“Right here.” Alexa answered, leaning over the center console to show Henry the map of the trail head. “It's part of the Rincon de la Vieja Volcano National Park.”

“Looks beautiful.” He commented, getting the address for the trail head and situating his phone on the dash mount. “So, our first day as husband and wife!” He grinned, navigating the road that ran parallel to the coast on one side.

“Yeah.” Alexa giggled, taking a photo of the gorgeous white sand and glittering, azure water. “How's it feeling?” She asked, shifting her camera's view to snap a shot of Henry, catching him off guard.

“It feels good.” Henry replied, giving her a shy and boy-ish expression. “It was a bit strange waking up to another person, and not either alone or to Kal snoring in my face.”

A laugh bubbled out of Alexa, her body scrunching up. “No, you just had me snoring in your face this morning.”

“Well worth the morning breath!” Henry chuckled back, teasing, watching the coast fall away the more inland they got.

“I don't have morning breath!” Alexa gasped, shoving him in the shoulder.

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked impishly, cocking a side brow over at her.

Alexa gasped again in outrage, mouth ajar. “Uh! How dare you accuse me of such things! I'll glue the toilet lid down from now on!”

“That's fine.” Henry replied, his smirking shifting into something even more devilish. “I have great aim.”

Alexa's cheeks colored, understanding his suggestion. “Naughty!” She cooed, batting her eyes at him, before glancing quickly over at the recording camera on the dash.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot!” Alexa nodded, twisting sideways to look at him.

“Do you have any nicknames you do or don't like going by?” Henry inquired, rubbing his palms over the steering wheel. “I don't mind being called Hen, Henners or Hank, but I loathe being called Harry.”

“Who calls you that!” She asked, outraged at the notion of someone calling him by that name, eyes twitching.

“I had a teacher at boarding school that did and sometimes, one of my uncles would.” He explained, shaking his head. “No matter how many times I told them I hated it and asked them not to.”

“I don't blame you! You don't have a Harry aura about you. Hen, yes. Hank yeah. But-” She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Good grief. As for me, most of the people in my social circle call me, Alex or Lexi, which I'm totally cool with. There are people that call me, Lex, which I'm not really here nor there about. However, I don't like being called, Allie, it makes me think of alleyways, or one of my roadies desperately tried to make a thing of calling me, Lexus.”

She met Henry's eye. “I'm not a car.”

Henry snorted, laughing softly. “A car, you are not.” He agreed, smiling. “So, Alex, Lex or Lexi are cool to call you.”

“Yep.” Alexa nodded, liking the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, as she noticed the sign announcing the turn off for the National park just around the bend. “Almost there!” She declared, rather excited to go exploring and hiking on the trails with Henry. “This place is so beautiful.” She commented, as they got out of the car, the warmth of the beach was replaced by the cool, but humid, air of the forest around them.

“Yeah, it is.” Henry agreed, clipping their bag secure across his chest.

But not as beautiful as you. He thought, fleetingly.

“Are you going to be able to hike this, carrying that camera?” Henry asked Jesse, who was getting his own gear set up. “According to that park sign, the trail is seven kilometers in length. One way.” He informed the cameraman, concerned for his well-being as much as he was Alexa and his own.

“I'll be fine, bud.” Jesse replied, shouldering a bag that rattled with various filming equipment and a couple of things he brought for the hike, water bottle, food, bug spray and so on. “I've done wildlife documentaries in Antarctica. I'm sure a four mile hike around the volcano will be cake.”

“Making sure.” Henry said, before turning to Alexa, who was patiently waiting at the trailhead. “You ready, short-stuff?” He asked with a smile.

Alexa snorted and rolled her eyes. “More ready than you are, Bones.” She answered, then held up a trail guide pamphlet. “I scanned the QR code they have on the back, but just in case our mobile service goes nutty, I thought we'd bring the booklet with us too.”

“Sound idea, love.” He nodded, gave the trail ahead a look over.

She leaned in close to Henry, before whispering loudly. “If there's any spiders, I'm leaving Jesse to get eaten first.”

“I heard that!” Jesse barked behind them.

Alexa flashed him a sweet smile, then took the first step onto the trail. One small step on our hike, one giant step into the rest of our life. She thought, continuing with the assurance that Henry was right behind her.

“A bridge!” Henry announced as he rounded a bend in the trail, coming upon a rope bridge, just wide enough for one person to cross at a time, single file. “You think it's sturdy?”

“It looks like it.” Alexa answered, looking around Henry's arm. “I'm sure they wouldn't have it accessible if it was dangerous. Unless they have a thing for making their visitors feel like they're having an Indiana Jones experience.” She commented, half-jokingly.

“Fair enough, you go ahead first.” He said, stepping sideways on the trail.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you, to let me plummet to the river below first.” Alexa quipped, moving by him, only to have Henry catch her wrist, his expression stony.

“Don't say that.” He snapped, his eyes glassy with horror.

Alexa's stomach churned at his expression, leaving her speechless for a moment, before she caught Jesse moving closer to them out of the corner of her eye and she scrambled to pull herself together again. “I was just kidding, Henry. I'm sorry.” She squeaked, gulping thickly as she pried his fingers from around her wrist and stepped onto the bridge.

That was so stupid! Why did I say that to him! She berated herself. Riah's going to juice her panties when she finds out. With how good it'll look, when the show airs. Stupid me creating an angst-y fuss, like some teenage drama.

The bridge wobbled a little bit as the three of them moved across the weathered slates at a steady pace, Alexa gripping the rope sides and daring to take a glance over the side, before quietly squeaking at the steep distance to the valley bottom and shooting her eyes forward, not looking down again. Henry's own eyes were on the back of Alexa's head, the whole time they crossed, taking slow, deep breaths and pretending the bridge wasn't as high off the ground as it actually was. In an attempt to control his fear of heights.

“Right, so!” Alexa sighed, after their feet touched solid ground again. “According to the app, the hot spring is this way and it's just before the waterfall.” She said, tracing the red line on the screen of her phone with her fingertip. “Do you want to see the waterfall first or do you want to hit the spring?” She asked, looking up at Henry, who craned his head over her shoulder to see the map, his hand gently resting on her side.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyeing the outlined trail, before looking up ahead of them. “Why don't we hit the waterfall first and have lunch there, so we can have a nice dip in the spring before we leave?” He suggested, looking back to Alexa. “That way we can have a nice rest period.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Alexa nodded, pocketing the device and hooking her arm with his. “It's so gorgeous here.” She said, looking at the tall canopies above their heads, her ears picking up the sounds of the forest surrounding them. The call of birds, frogs croaking deep in their throats and insects buzzing in the humid air, with the occasional howl of a monkey deep and far off the beaten trail.

“It really is.” Henry agreed, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant and cool air.

They pointed out sights to each other, plants and animals. Alexa became excited at one point, thinking she saw a little squirrel monkey, before it vanished in the trees. They snapped a couple of photos over the hour and a half it took them to go from the head of the trail to the rushing waterfall at the end.

“Oh my—Odin.” Alexa gasped softly, standing on a large, flat river rock as she gazed up at the fifty foot waterfall, the spraying mist at the top glittering in the sunlight, casting a rainbow-like halo at its drop off point. “I've never seen anything quite so magical.” She mumbled to herself, following the water into a basin of crystal clear water, surrounded by rough cliff walls covered in creeping vines and moss, slick algae and small trees that somehow managed to take root and grow out of cracks.

There were a couple of people around the edge of the pool, resting on rocks or clear, flat spots of the ground, with several others swimming in the water itself. Both Alexa and Henry looked at each other, then tossed at glance at Jesse, who hadn't stopped filming once, knowing they would attract attention the moment they got close. So, they moved around to the far side of the waterfall, where there were no people and found a decent spot to sit down and relax.

Henry set his pack down in front of him, unhooking his water bottle from the loop on the strap, while Alexa sipped at her own water, staring out over the pool with a whimsical and thoughtful expression.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, before taking a big gulp of his icy water.

“Hm?” Alexa hummed back, blinking and turning her attention to him.

Henry chuckled at her. “What are you thinking about?” He repeated himself, unzipping the main compartment of the bag.

“I'm wondering how cool that water must be.” She confessed, her face giving away her interest in going for a dip.

“Hmm.” He purred back, narrowing his eyes at the water and considering the sweat running down his back, causing his tank top to stick to his skin as well as his curls to his forehead. “That's a good question.” He replied, closing the backpack and reaching for the back of his tank, pulling it off over his head and dropping it on the bag, before standing.

“Let's go find out.”

Alexa grinned, taking off her top and stood to wiggle out of her shorts, kicking them over to their bag as Henry's arm hooked around her waist. “Henry!” She cried out with laughter, breaking out into a massive grin as he carried her over to the water.

“You can go in with your insulin stuff, right?” He asked, as the water reached his calves.

“Yeah.” She assured him, squirming and wrapping her arms around his neck. “All water-proof.”

“Perfect.” Henry smirked devilishly, shifting his hands to Alexa's hips, hoisted her up and launched her into the deep end of the water.

Alexa gasped as she splashed into the water, disappearing under for a moment, before she pushed off the bottom and broke the surface again. “That's unfair!” She huffed, splashing Henry in the face as he moved towards her.

“Absolutely.” He nodded, carding his fingers through his dripping hair, pushing his curls off his forehead.

The two of them looked up at a cry that echoed down to them, finding a group of guys that had climbed to the top of the cliff by the waterfall, screaming their heads off and throwing their arms up, showing off to their group that had stayed down below, and who were returning their rowdiness. Alexa chuckled and looked at Henry, hooking an arm around his neck to support herself in the water and be close to him.

“Those guys are wild.” Henry commented, watching one of them take a running jump off the edge, feeling his stomach lurch as the guy plummeted and splashed into the water, heart clenching for a moment, waiting for him to resurface safely.

“And probably drunk.” Alexa giggled, gently pressing her lips to Henry's collarbone, as she held herself against his chiseled torso, feeling his palms squeeze and massage her hips. “If you try tossing me again, I will bite you.” She whispered against his skin.

Henry glanced down at her, cocking a brow with interest. “Is that a promise or a threat?” He asked, his own lips brushing the top of her head. “Cause, I'll gladly find out.” He said, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

Fuck, I hope I'm not being too forward with her.

“Oh, you like that kind of thing?” Alexa teased him, smirking. “Superman likes getting nibbled on?”

His body reacted to her flirting, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, and his blue eyes laser focused on her face. “I just might.” He purred, voice deepening as he leaned his head in close.

“Mmm.” Alexa hummed back at him, a sparkle in her eye while meeting him, feeling her heart skip a beat, knowing he was going to kiss her again. But she caught sight of Jesse wading into the shallows of the pool, camera poised on his shoulder and a soft smirk on his face, clearly understanding the moment. “You know what?” Alexa gasped, pulling away from Henry and treading in the water to keep herself up.

“I want to jump off too.” She told him, an impish smirk crossing her lips.

“Oh?” Henry frowned, confused by the mood change and sudden disconnect from her. “Is that safe?”

Alexa chuckled, splashing him. “They did it!” She called over her shoulder, swimming away to get out of the water and head up the small trail that led up to the top of the cliff.

She's crazy. Henry thought, debating if he should follow her up, to make sure she didn't get hurt on the way to the top and perhaps try and stop her or to just watch her jump from his spot in the water. She'll be fine. He tried to reassure himself, keeping his eyes fixed on the spot the group of men had been, when they jumped.

His heart calmed down slightly, seeing her pale head pop up among the lush greenery at the top of the waterfall, gazing down into the water below and waving at him with a huge smile. Henry smiled and waved back, hoping he didn't look too horrified for her well-being. Alexa surveyed the landscape from her vantage point and wished she had brought her phone up to snap a couple of photos, before jumping.

Taking a deep breath and taking a couple steps back, before taking a running leap off the edge, plummeting feet first into the water. Henry swam over, meeting her halfway back to where they had been.

“That was wild!” She giggled at him. “You should try it.”

“I don't know.” Henry chuckled, looking up at the spot. “It's pretty high.”

“I'll go with you!” Alexa said, trying to embolden him. “We could jump together!”

Henry bit his lip, then shook his head, flicking droplets of water from the ends of his curls. “Nope.” He declined, pressing his lips together. “No can do, darling.”

“Aww.” She cooed, before clicking her tongue at him. “All right. Fair enough, Sötnos.” She smiled, her eyes gentle and understanding.

“Sötnos?” Henry echoed, causing Alexa to giggle at his pronunciation of the word.

“Swat-noss.” She pronounced the word for him, slowly. “Sötnos.”

“What does it mean?” He asked, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it.

Alexa giggled, resting her hands on his shoulders. “It means a couple things.” She smirked, amused at the pet name, as she pressed herself against him, making him feel their size difference as they floated in the water. “Sweetheart. Sweet cheeks.” She explained to him, chuckling. “But the direct translation is, sweet nose.”

“You think I got a sweet nose?” Henry teased, leaning in to rub noses with her, making Alexa giggle even more. “I like it.” He told her, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Would you teach me more?”

“Ja, of course.” She nodded, touched and excited that he wanted to learn more of her language and background. “You're going to need it, min mannen.”

“Great.” He smiled, before noticing the slight shake in her hands. “Are you all right?” He asked, taking one of them in his, pressing it between his palm and chest to seep some warmth into it. “Are you cold?” He inquired, the water was cool, but not chilly.

“No.” Alexa replied, shaking her head. “I'm just getting the shakes from my sugar starting to dip a little bit. I need to get out and eat.” She explained to him, her brow pinching as it hit her all at once.

“Let's go then.” Henry urged, wrapping an arm around her waist and guided them out of the water, back to where their pack and clothing was. “Here's water, I'll get our lunch out.” He said, opening her water bottle for her, before opening their backpack and started pulling out all the food.

Sipping her water, Alexa caught sight of something, as it fell out of the pack in Henry's rush to get their lunch ready, and reached for it. Picking up a short, plastic wrapped tube, the words printed on it were all in Spanish, but she had seen this type of container enough times in her life to know what it was.

“Did you buy glucose tablets?” She asked, looking up at Henry with a crease between her brows, holding them up for him to see.

Henry paused and looked at the tablets, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Ye-ah.” He answered, slowly gulping. “I-” He floundered to vocalize why his brain had told him it was a good idea to head towards the chemist aisle he'd seen at the store in town, to buy the capsule of ten, Raspberry flavored, glucose tablets.

What if you needed them, while we're on our hike or on the drive back to our Villa? He thought, still struggling to voice his fear that her blood sugar would drop to an unsafe level. What if they were the only thing that kept you from-- Henry forcefully shook the last thought out of his head, refusing to manifest it.

“I just—I just thought-” He took a deep, hard breath and looked back down at his task. “I don't know what I thought.” He mumbled under his breath. “It was stupid.”

Alexa's face fell at his words, closing her fist around the tablets, wanting to say something to him about how thoughtful it really was, but couldn't find the words. “What do we have for lunch!” She said instead, changing the subject for both of them.

Henry set out their wrapped sandwiches, along with the little containers of fresh fruit, slices of mango, watermelon and oranges, as well as a small cluster of grapes. They sipped their water and nibbled on their food, Alexa gazing around the forest that surrounded them, fascinated by the towering and knotted trees among the lush green plants, the sound of the waterfall behind them was so soothing and peaceful. She sighed softly, reaching out for another piece of fruit, her hand coming into contact with Henry's, as he did the same.

Their eyes met and Alexa felt Henry's fingers caress and trace her hand, like the touch from a ghost. It made her skin tingle and the breath in her throat caught. She didn't understand. They'd known each other for less than forty-eight hours and when Henry touched her, it was like nothing she'd felt before. Not with the boyfriend she'd been with for five years or a couple of attempted dates she'd been on since breaking up with said ex-boyfriend.

What is it about him? She thought, turning her palm up to his touch, her shoulders shuddering faintly as he stroked his fingertips over the heel of her palm to her fingertips. Why does his touch light my nerve-endings on fire and send sparks into my mind? What magic is he casting over me? Alexa reflected, swimming in the azure ocean of his eyes and trying to reach the tawny island at the top.

Henry in-turn was lost in her gaze, a gentle smile twitching and curling up one corner of his lip as he drove ever deeper into the arctic landscape he found there, mapping out the small flakes of minty-green that was close to her pupils. He was besotted with her, and it only dragged him down deeper as the seconds ticked past them. Henry had no answer to it either. Though, he was sometimes prone to falling in love quickly, and that sudden realization stabbed him in the stomach, like a red-hot knife.

Am I falling too quickly? Is this just a sudden flame, that'll burn out in a week or by the time our honeymoon is over?

His fingers faltered against her skin and Alexa noticed, a wrinkle forming between her brows as she watched the bright light in Henry's eyes fade and his expression panic, pulling his hand away from her.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, waving to the food they'd intersected at. “Go ahead.” He said, patiently waiting for her to take what she was reaching for, before grabbing his.

“Henry--” Alexa started, wanting to know if she'd done something wrong.

“Do you still want to go to the hot spring?” He asked over her, clearing his throat, knowing how rude of him it was, but couldn't bear her asking him what she intended to. “I know we went swimming here.” He said, waving to the waterfall behind them.

Alexa licked her lips and glanced at the rushing water for a second. “I would still at least like to see it.” She replied, biting her lip. “If that's all right with you?” She added, looking at him with a conflicted expression.

“That's more than all right.” He answered, popping a grape into his mouth. “I'd like to see it as well.” He confessed, offering her a half-hearted smile, hoping to bring some peace back into their outing.

“Cool.” She rasped, picking up her shorts and stood up, pulling them over her damp bikini bottoms, not bothering with her tank top, and instead stuffed it into their bag. “I'm ready, when you are.” She told him, looking at her Dexcom app, making sure her levels were in an appropriate range.

“I'm ready.” Henry replied, packing what was left of their food away and stood with her, shouldering the bag and glancing at her phone. “Is that a good level?” He asked, looking at her.

“It's a hundred and fifty, now that I've eaten.” Alexa explained, turning the screen towards him. “So, that's a pretty decent range. Especially for me.” She said, before pointing to a number beside it. “It was a hundred and ten, before I ate, which is middle to low-ish side, before a meal. But, I'm perfectly fine now. So we can head to the hot spring and likely make it back to the Villa, before I need to eat again.” She told him, closing the app and pulling up the map to the hot spring from where they were.

“So, we need to get back on the trail we arrived here on, for a short while, until we reach that fork and turn left.” She showed him their route and Henry nodded, motioning for her to lead the way.

Alexa glanced behind her to Jesse, who frowned at her, clearly annoyed she kept staring into the camera lens, before moving forward. Henry took a deep breath, glancing above them as he reached out to hook his arm around Alexa's shoulders, pulling her a little into his side as they retraced their steps over the trail.

They reached the turn, branching out in the three different directions and headed towards the hot spring, and the closer they came to it, the more they could hear the rush of the thermal waters.

Coming through a thicket of trees and brush into the clearing, they discovered the steaming, volcanic-formed pool. Not quite so populated as the pool at the foot of the waterfall, but was still dotted with people. Some stood waist deep in the warm waters, while others sat on the rocks that surrounded it, their feet dipped in, admiring the multiple, little volcanic rock waterfalls that supplied the water for the spring.

“This place is so gorgeous.” Alexa commented, as she and Henry found a spot to sit and slip their feet into the heavenly warm water, with a soft moan.

“It truly is.” Henry agreed, slowly gliding his feet through the water and watching it gurgle down one of the falls.

Alexa gasped suddenly, grasping Henry by the arm and grew animated. “Henry!” She insisted, blue eyes round with wonder and surprise as she pointed into the tree tops across the spring, just as a sound filled the steamy air, like a high-pitched, song-bird-like call. “It's a Toucan.” She grinned at him, giddy for spotting the yellow-throated toucan.

“Oh wow, it is!” Henry nodded, narrowing his eyes at the small, long billed bird of paradise.

“When I was little, I wanted one as a pet, after seeing George of the Jungle with Brendan Fraser, cause Tookie-Tookie was my favorite.” She confessed, taking her phone out to snap a photo of it. “Other than Shep the elephant.”

Henry smirked at her, touched that she shared that teeny bit of information and memory with him, and was amused by it. “Is that so?” He asked, his eyes going back to the little black and yellow bird as it took flight off its branch.

“Yeah, I love animals.” Alexa nodded, a little deflated that the toucan flew off, before looking at the photos she'd taken of it. “I had considered becoming a Zoologist before becoming a musician.” She confessed, pressing her shoulder against his and lifting her phone again, its front camera open and showing her and Henry. “We haven't taken a single photo together.” She answered the startled and confused expression she saw on Henry's face through her phone.

“I'd like at least one photo with my husband, during our honeymoon.” She smirked at him. “If he'd indulge me?”

“Why would I not?” He cooed, his expression softening and posed with her to take the photo.

[luminique]

So you said that you'll try to write Lighter with specific headcanons in mind, so here’s an idea. Transmasc Lighter on his period

this reminds me of the meme (?) where someone says “if my nose is correct, one of you beauties is on your period. who is it?” and that is so billy asking the rest of the sons of calydon while transmasc lighter would just casually say “it’s me.”

but anyways, i have a personal headcanon that all of their periods sync up, so they’re all in pain together. he would try to not let it show though but i do think that he has his ways of alleviating period cramps so that he can still practice and spar, especially back when he was fighting in the ember arena. supposedly, consistent exercising makes period flow much lighter and helps with cramps so maybe he’s the kind to track his cycle and plan accordingly.

i also think that he gets mood swings, not too bad but it is a little easier for him to get pissed off when he’s on his period. he’s already pretty straightforward from what we’ve seen of him in game, i can just imagine him getting really frustrated quickly or suddenly having the urge to see you.

also in the name of drip, he has to wear his relatively tight pants (are they jeans? i’m not so sure) but on his period, HE’S SWITCHING OUT. it is NOT a fun experience for him down there so i’d like to think that when he’s not out and about, he’s choosing more comfortable clothing.

[canarias-stuff]

Our Story (Bakugou Katsuki X Midoriya Izuku) - Oneshot

Summary:

Once, a 5 years old Katsuki and a 4 years old Izuku dreamed of being heroes. Now, a 17 years old Katsuki and a 16 years old Izuku were actually recognized as heroes. Katsuki wondered if one day they could walk side by side, as heroes, as friends, as rivals, as whatever they were allowed to be. Because no matter what happened in the future, Katsuki would be beside Izuku, and if the embers ever fade, he would definitely be there to rekindle the flames. This was their story after all. The story of how they became heroes… …together. (SPOILERS FROM MANGA - CHAPTER 424!!!!)

Notes:

The oneshot is short, I just wanted to write what I think that Katsuki thought while saying those words (the manga words from chapter 424), that's all.

Still, I hope that you liked this story.^^

See you!

P.S: English is not my native language, so sorry for possible grammar mistakes. I don't have a beta reader, so as soon as possible I will correct possible mistakes.^^

P.S.2: I also have this story at AO3 and Fanfiction.net under the name "Mistsukis2"!

Link Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56303923

Link fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14360791/1/Our-Story

“But I can still feel some left embers…” 

Once, All Might said that he was helping Izuku in his own way to find redemption. And even if he didn’t admit that, not even for himself, somewhere in his being, he knew that was exactly what he was doing, or trying to do.

Katsuki could admit that he treated Izuku like shit for most of their life, that’s why he apologized just a few days ago. He really meant it.

Izuku was Izuku, gentle and carrying Izuku. The green haired kid had forgiven him on the spot, if not a long time ago. Because, why would a victim of bullying keep trying to reach their bully?

But it didn’t matter anyway. It didn't matter if Izuku forgave him or not. He wanted to make up for his errors, even if it took him his whole life, because Izuku was…

Truth be told, Katsuki didn’t know what to call their relationship anymore. 

Childhood friends? 

Rivals?

Something…more?

The thing was, they were important to each other to some degree, at which degree, they would find out later. 

Right now…

Izuku just said “embers”. That meant…

“How can you still walk around, brat?!”

His mother was yelling at him, she and his father were trying to stop him from entering the hospital room where Izuku and All Might were, but he didn’t give a shit, there was something really important happening right in front of his eyes.

“KACCHAN! I’m so glad that you are safe!” Izuku yelled, at the same time that his mother apologized for their intrusion, saying something about him being worried.

Any other time, Katsuki would yell back, denying the accusation, but…

“Embers…” The word left his mouth before he could process the whole situation. It felt bitter. “Then…it means that you are…”

Izuku was still smiling. A soft and gentle smile. He just sacrificed the one and only thing that he has ever wanted, and he was still smiling, just like back then, when they were 5 years old, holding an All Might card and sure that one day they would be heroes together.

“...quirkless…”

The word felt hard and heavy on his tongue.

The first time that they fought for real Shigaraki and All For One, the first time that they landed in the hospital, badly, badly injured, Katsuki wasn’t allowed to see Izuku. And he didn’t have the chance later either, because Izuku left solo right after, leaving behind a shit excuse of a letter explaining his reasons.

This time around, no one would stop him, he would check if the nerd was doing as good as possible, and wasn’t planning another escape. Because this time Katsuki would definitely stop or join him.

That wasn’t necessary though…

Katsuki should have prepared himself for another kind of blow.

“Hum.” Izuku sounded…fine for some reason. “But…from the start, it was something that I didn’t have, so it’s okay, I don’t regret anything. It felt like…I was allowed to see a really great dream.”

What the hell…?

Izuku had both arms bandaged, just like him. They were both badly hurt, and if anyone looked at them now, they wouldn’t know who had it worse. Katsuki was allowed to keep his right arm, his quirk depends on the sweat of the palm of his hands, but Izuku…he just lost the quirk that he worked so hard to control.

Why?

Didn't he just tell the doctor that he would give his all in physiotherapy, because he wanted to follow Izuku's example? Even when Izuku was still quirkless, the green haired boy gave his everything to achieve his goals, never giving up on his dream.

That’s why Katsuki wondered why that was happening now.

“What kind of trick did you use?! How can a quirkless kid pass the test?!”

“Then, I have to go beyond it! No! I need to go beyond it!”

“Don’t let me surpass you, Izuku.”

“Eh…” Shock. Realization. The more he looked back at his memories, the more he wondered: why ?

Was that some kind of twisted punishment? Because he was horrible to Izuku while growing up? If that was a punishment, fucking hell , why wasn’t he the only one to draw the short end of the stick?! Why did Izuku have to be dragged into that too?

Izuku didn’t deserve that. After everything that he went through…he deserved better.

“Cry-Crycchan???!!!”

Katsuki didn’t even realize that he was crying until Izuku pointed it out…loud and dramatically. Was that his new nickname?

Fuck…just when I finally acknowledged ‘Kacchan’?!

He only knew how to yell, anger and frustration were feelings that by now he knew how to deal with, but this ? How was he supposed to put into words all this…guilty? Shame? Overflowing feelings? He didn’t know!

“No…I don’t like it…” There was a lump on his throat, and he refused to acknowledge that he just hiccuped. He felt like a kid again. Powerless. “Seriously…?”

The tears were falling without his consentment, the bandages on his face and hand were getting wet, it didn’t matter how hard he tried, it didn’t stop.

“Seriously…what the hell was I doing to you…?” He hated the way his voice trembled, why was he feeling desperate like that when Izuku was the one who lost everything? The only one who got his dream destroyed? 

The tears were blurring Izuku’s face, but Katsuki was sure that the green haired boy had a troubled expression right now.

“I just thought…” 

He was naive. 

“...that somehow…we would be like that forever…” 

Naive. Too naive Katsuki. 

“...competing and chasing after each other you know…”

He thought that after all this fucking war, things would go back to…normal…

Classes. Living under the same dorm’s roof. More classes. Fights. Competitions.

He would chase after Izuku, and Izuku would chase after him.

Normal stuff, right?

But what was ‘normal’ now?

“S-stop, this is not like you…” Izuku stumbled on his words, sounding troubled now. “I still have the embers! It’s just that my body is currently weak, so my mental strength also got weak!”

Right…All Might was able to keep fighting with OFA’s embers…Izuku would be able to do the same…he could still live his dream…

The hell was he doing? He was supposed to be the one comforting Izuku, not the other way around. So why couldn’t he stop the tears from coming out?

Why was he…so wea-

“You two really got strong.”

All Might's voice was still fragile, but his words were far from that. That only sentence put a stop to the chaotic thoughts on his head.

“You have changed a lot since the first time we met.” He continued, looking between him and Izuku.

Gentle, but powerful words. Words meant to comfort, but trying to pass a message.

“The Midoriya shounen that ran with all his might that day is my hero, but right now, you are everyone’s hero. And also, Bakugou shounen who gave me more time…”

All Might had always been their idol, the type of hero that they wanted to be, and here he was, implying that no matter what had happened in their complicated past, no matter what would happen or what they decided to do from now on, they, he and Izuku…

“You are the greatest heroes. So thank you!”

He wasn’t the only one crying anymore, Izuku had always been a crybaby, so of course he would start crying while hearing such words of praise. Not that he could fault Izuku here, Katsuki was the first one to start crying anyway.

But hearing that felt oddly reassuring.

Izuku smiled between sobs, and Katsuki did the same.

Hearing those words made Katsuki think that somehow things would work out eventually. 

For him. 

For Izuku. 

For both of them.

…

Once, a 5 years old Katsuki and a 4 years old Izuku dreamed of being heroes.

Now, a 17 years old Katsuki and a 16 years old Izuku were actually recognized as heroes. It wasn’t a dream anymore, it was their reality.

That’s why Katsuki wondered if one day they would walk side by side, as heroes, as friends, as rivals, as whatever they were allowed to be.

Because no matter what happened in the future, Katsuki would be beside Izuku, and if the embers ever fade, he would definitely be there to rekindle the flames.

This was their story after all.

The story of how they became heroes…

…together.

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 3, Day 18, Day 20

Stalking | “I can handle it.” | Scrape | “I’m fine.”

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Contains: angst, fatigue, stalking mention but in jest, mention of being arrested

WC: 620

Light yet glowing in the sky

“I don’t know how else to explain this to you,” said the governor’s son, “but you need to let this go. We’re leaving in the morning, and my father will kill me if I don’t bring you back.”

“What? You’re not going to miss me?”

The food taster barely registered his own joke. It had been a long day, and a disheartening one, which had yielded no answers as to the identity or the location of the mysterious girl whose charm he still had in his possession. Sluggish waves of exhaustion dragged at his limbs, and the stinging sparks of a headache burst sporadically in his temple—yet his mind couldn’t rest.

Who was she, that girl, and why did he care so much? What gain was there to be found in seeking her out? It was beyond futile, reaching the point of absurdity, as his friend, who had not been reticent about sharing his opinion, continually reminded him.

And who was not done, apparently.

“No, and I especially won’t miss you if you bring shame and scandal to my doorstep by getting dragged off by the palace guards. You’re obsessed. You spent all day looking for her already, and you found nothing, so what else is there to do? Forget her. You’ll get into trouble, some sort of scrape you won’t be able to get yourself out of, and I am not paying to bail you out of prison if you’re arrested for stalking that poor girl. Get yourself packed, and move on.”

The food taster glanced sullenly at his half-filled trunk. “You’re the one who told me to give the charm back.”

“Well, that was before she ceased to exist, as she evidently has. Just . . . think about something else. You’ve done all you can.”

After a long pause wherein he considered his friend’s words, weighing them against the awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, the food taster sighed. “You’re right.”

His friend crossed his arms, eyes alight with triumph. “Of course I am. You may have the extraordinary magical taste buds, but I’ve got the brains.”

The food taster rolled his eyes, then added with a frown, “I’m wounded by your lack of faith in me. You think I couldn’t handle a spot of trouble on my own?”

“Correction. I know you couldn’t.”

“I could. In fact, I think I’d be perfectly fine.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

Half-heartedly, not concealing the sulky look on his face, the food taster resumed throwing his clothing haphazardly into his trunk.

“Good man,” said his friend, clapping him on the shoulder. “I knew you’d see sense. No point in looking for trouble where there is none.”

Concealed in the food taster’s pocket, the gold charm seemed to burn hot as embers. “I suppose so.”

“You suppose?” His friend shook his head. “I give up with you. You’re hopeless, you know. How about I do all the thinking from now on, hmm?”

Hopeless, indeed.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” said the governor’s son, heading for the door.

The moment he was out of sight, the food taster dropped the tunic he’d been pretending to fold.

He left the door ajar when he stepped outside, so as not to alert anyone to his flight.

Pointless. Ridiculous. A lost cause.

Perhaps it was so.

But…

He glanced at the setting sun, watching radiant streaks of red as they arrayed across the sky. Soon it would be dark. Soon it would be tomorrow. Soon it would be too late.

But there was light yet glowing in the sky, and determination yet blazing in his heart.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t give it one last try before he let the flame burn out.

June of Doom Masterlist

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@juneofdoom

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[moongothic]

2024 YouTube Reccomendations

IDK people like to share their Spotify Wrappeds and whatever each year but I don't listen to music much (and if I do it's some mp3s on my harddrive like a real Millenial (or just shit directly on YouTube lmao)), but I figured. It could be fun to share some of my favorite YouTubers and/or specific YouTube videos from this year, so here's a non-comprehensive list of some reccomendations, wahoo

To quickly summarize what's on my list:

Gaming

Gaming

Video Essay

Video Essay

Video Essay

??? I don't even know how to classify this one

Sewing

Knitting

Regular Eyepatch Wolf

You know who Super Eyepatch Wolf is, everyone knows who Eyepatch Wolf is, I don't need to introduce him to you. But. Did you know he started doing regular gaming streams on his second channel? Now he has been doing said gaming streams for well over a year now, but still. I want to reccomend his second channel, where you can find some Live VODs as well as edited streams of him playing various games, often horror themed, lots of Fear and Hunger, but also. God damn fucking Dokapon Kingdom. Y'all that one was a ride.

TB Skyen

Go watch the Boss Designs of Elden Ring. And then the Boss Designs of Dark Souls and Bloodborne. And maybe his Arcane and/or LoL videos if you're into those but GO WATCH BOSS DESIGNS OF ELDEN RING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. THE PLAYLIST IS RIGHT THERE GO WATCH IT!!! (For those unfamiliar, the "Boss Designs" is a series where TB Skyen plays a Soulsborne game completely blind and then analyzes the world and characters; what the games are trying to communicate through the art direction and character design, and how those tie into the themes of the game and art history. Each video starts with a gameplay section where Skyen plays the game until he reaches a boss, and after defeating the boss he will discuss the actual boss design. Every time a new episode drops feels like I won a 100 bucks in the lottery or was gifted a box of the best donuts in town- it's not lifechanging, but it's fucking fantastic) (Skyen also has multiple sidechannels, 2BSkyen for let's plays, 3BSkyen for reaction videos and a Shorts-channel for bitesize character design essays etc. If you're following me for posting One Piece content, he has a whole series about the "Best Panels of One Piece")

Shanspeare

Subscribe to Shanspeare or else. Minor problem I'm having rn; I am not writing these entries in order and I am running out of ways to describe who does what and why you should go watch their content. But I do also feel like Shanspeare might be one of the more famous people on my non-comprehensive list of reccomendations, so maybe you already know her! Which would be great, because otherwise I will throw peanuts at you until you go subscribe to her channel. Her video essays are fucking great okay. Go watch the Girl Math & Girl Power essay. It fucking slaps.

Caelan Conrad

Caelan Conrad does incredible video essays about transphobia. Their essays are incredibly well researched and absolutely destroy transphobes. And they're so fucking funny. (They also do some smaller videos just reacting to ridiculous, queerphobic movies/YouTubers between their bigger video essays, which are lovely) Their videos definitely tend to be on the longer side (the video essays tend to be an hour long at minimum), but the video I've linked here that goes into the claims about whether or not Marsha P. Johnson was trans is only 18 minutes, which would make for a great "entry video" to Caelan's channel, go give it a watch!

Ember Green

Ember Green is a video essayist who discusses various subjects often relating to ableism and being neuro-divergent. If you are not subscrimed to Ember Green yet you need to fucking correct that and go subscribe right the fuck now. Every single one of her videos is an absolute banger, and the meanest thing I could say about her videos is that she speaks a little slow (which can easily be "corrected" by bumping up the video speed). Go subcribe to Ember right now Anyway yeah, she discusses some political stuff and I find her videos very thoughtful and interesting, the above (and linked) example of the Aspie Supremacy-essay being an incredible example of that where she discusses and explains how the "aspie supremacy movement" is literally rooted in Nazi eugenics. (She also did more recently a video about ableism in Harry Potter if you'd like to have a better understanding of how Rowling is ableist, but that video has more views than the Aspie Supremacy-one so I'm not reccomending the low hanging fruit)

Drama Kween

Look I'm allowed to watch silly videos that go into weird TikTok trends (some of which may not even matter that much in the end) and discuss how infuriating said trends are. Like I kinda want to call Drama Kween my "guilty pleasure popcorn movie" kinda YouTube channel, but also I do feel like that would be disrespecting Drama Kween a little too much, Drama Kween has artistic value and more things say about the state of our world than Marvel Movies do. But also yeah these aren't Extremely Well Researched Political Video Essays or anything. I'm still gonna reccomend her tho.

The Stitchery/Charlie Nebe

(Her main channel is the Stitchery but she also has a second channel "Charlie Nebe" where she posts videos of herself just telling small stories etc while doing stuff, which is enjoyable for sure but I am primarily reccomending her main channel. And this is more of a general "channel reccomendation" rather than a specific video)

I can't remember how I ran into Charlie's channel but I deeply enjoyed her videos this whole year. Charlie does primarily sewing videos of herself creating clothes from scratch (without even patterns). Her editing/comedy style is has a similar feel to it as Rachel Maksy's, but instead of having a whimsical twist to her projects Charlie makes very, like, practical, everyday-use items for herself (a regular person who likes comfy clothes and has texture issues). Charlie also does embroidery (though her gigantic embroidery projects take a lot of time so she hasn't updated us on her WIPs in a long time) and occasionally likes to try out new things, new kinds of crafts and projects. I just like her video style A TON, she has really sweet vibes and energy to her. And, not gonna lie, seeing Charlie just bullshit these elaborate dresses together without patterns or instructions on how to make them has unironically encouraged me to try to do more sewing even if/when I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. (Which is great, because I do have a gigantic pile of inherited fabrics just collecting dust that I should try to make something out of)

Breathing Yarn

Generally speaking I just enjoy the really mellow, comfy feels of Breathing Yarn's videos and I do want to reccomend her whole channel overall. She primarily does videos about her knitting projects (with the occasional crochet or sewing project) and other knitting-related videos (like pattern reccomendations etc), and she's just really wonderful to watch while knitting or crocheting. But also I really enjoyed this specific deep dive into the ethics of yarn, and if I can only convince you to watch just one of her videos, it'd be that one in particular.

[electrospherevaults]

I Made You Breakfast

[Find other stories from the 2024 Friday Writing Challenge here]

It had been one more of those early mornings. He woke up and checked back and he saw his General still soundly asleep besides him on the pillow that they shared. Soundly was a correct word to use, he thought, because his snore could be loud enough to disturb the birds outside the window and ruin their song. Other times, their rhythms matched, and he would lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as his slow restful rumbled breathing would tickle his ear. It had not been the first time, but it had been a long time since they last could be afforded the decency of a privacy.

How ironic; now that peace reigned, they could not have been driven further apart.

The days they spent in the mud and the shrubs, on the campaign trail to save their lands, had been some of the harshest his short as of yet life had to endure. In blood and sinew, they were made enemies once upon a time, him a prince and his opponent a lieutenant. He recalled his friend, the cunning Lady Wrethella, and her army of maidens which he admired as much as he feared. Thanks to her cunning and a slight slip-up, he bested his opponent in battle. A couple nights later, a slight slip-up of his own led their lips to entangle for the first time. The night tasted like wine, and the day tasted like soot, and the embers of his friend’s home led to the dissolution of twelve years of war. They never had been enemies, they never should have been ones, but he was once a Prince of the Autumn Court of the Solarian Kingdoms. Twelve years of war, and all it took to end it was a woman vowing her revenge on the world as they knew it.

They failed to save those old mythic lands not because they did not try their best, but because the hatred of their nations ran deeper than the veins from which they all once sprouted from together.

Peace is a funny thing to listen at in the morning. The summer house was secluded, a retreat deep in the countryside that was partially owned by both of their nations and which exchanged hands every so often. It had been fifty years since Mytheria drew its last breath, and the birds of this new world chirped the same songs he had grown listening once upon a child with young ears and even younger fur and horns that longed to grow, to be as ferocious as his grandfather’s, to rival those of his brothers, to be equal in the image his father imposed on him. The father he once loved lay slain by the sword he gave her, thanks to the gates he unlocked for her willingly. In return, she had promised him a quick, clean kill.

There could have been no other way. For the world to live, Mytheria had to die. A death metaphorical and literal, manifested upon by the blood of creatures mythical and strange and real. Critters that sleep peacefully until the sun rises over the horizon, rumbling in their sleep, mumbling sweet words in languages they call their own. That night once tasted like wine. The wine tasted like bark. Last night, the celebration of his birthday which coincided with his rise as the new rightful and sole King of Kings of Solaria, they got to meet once more. He was back from the deep ends of the galaxy, hunting down the threat their enemies posed upon them. He had grown to have silver hair, and his moustache had grown longer, falling gently upon lips cracked with age.

“Maybe one day we shall dance again without the eyes of the world upon us, mon ami,” he told him amicably, his fingers lingering upon his shoulder in the hope that the lights would go out and the eyes would divert and the world would extinguish – if only for a moment. He still carried their combined scars, retraced at the end of a night they once slipped by. That bombed out fortress had a balcony that overlooked a meadow and a river, a river they once shared, where they bathed in the evening and cooked breakfast by its shores the morning after. And as his fingers left his shoulders, the nobles and the officers and all the highly esteemed creatures of the courts sought his attention. An attention so fleeting yet in such high demand; the monotony of the expectation ate his insides. He needed the escape.

Late that same night, he pulled his General to the side, behind a curtain on a room adjacent to the throne. He gave him an envelope, and a promise to see each other in three days’ time. He sealed the promise with a kiss that was so sudden and so fleeting, and he was gone again in an instant; passed by the veil to the side where their combined high societies expected better of them. A society that had separated them into a master of peace and a commander of war. Of course the General obliged; he would have been a fool and a moron to not do so. He was kind and thoughtful to every man and woman that had earned his trust, and to his beloved King he had nothing but his whole heart deposited upon the trust he assured him. In their common struggle, they learned a lot about each other. Chief among them, the once young prince discovered the delicacies of the scythian cuisine, the way the once young lieutenant enjoyed a good charred slab of meat cut on cubes on a skillet and served with sunny side-up eggs and softened onions.

He could say “I made you breakfast” but it would have still been a lie because a King does not make his own food, let alone his own bed. And yet, under the glow of the rising sun, within those golden embers of daylight, he found a reason to live. He retraced the steps he half-remembered from years past. Mytheria was gone and all that was left was peace; and peace tasted like burnt toasted bread, slightly charred slabs of meat cuts, and spilled eggs that resembled a scramble more than they did the sun. The sun itself would have to suffice outside, glowing over the meadows and the rivers this valley overlooked. The wind was crisp. He did not notice how louder the birds had been singing the songs of their homeworld. Stepping slowly with half-dazed eyes that were still heavy from sleeping in late, the General arrived to the kitchenette. His face beamed with a smile. “What did you dream about, Arckie?” he asked his King. “For I dreamed about making you breakfast again.”

[dropout-if]

❛ we just can’t seem to get it right, huh? ❜ for J

SECOND BREAKUP LETSGOOOOO

From this ask game!

This took me so long I'm so sorry your drabbles are always a joy to write💕

The moon hangs low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the city streets as you and J find yourselves standing at a familiar crossroads. The quiet hum of the city’s nightlife serves as a backdrop to the weighty silence that envelops the two of you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other in such a situation, and the tension in the air is palpable.

J breaks the silence, their voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty, “We just can’t seem to get it right, huh?”

You turn to face them, their familiar features illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. It’s been a long journey for the both of you—flames that once burned bright reduced to smoldering embers. Trying to rekindle what once was has proven to be a daunting task.

“I guess not,” you reply softly, unable to hide the melancholy in your tone.

J’s gaze remains fixed on the ground, frustration swimming in their eyes, “I— Things could have been different this time.”

“They—”

“They haven’t. I know. Don’t say it,” J interrupts you.

You want to argue but instead, settle on nodding in understanding, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The memories of your past together flood back—both the beautiful moments and the painful ones. It’s as if the baggage you thought you had left behind has resurfaced, refusing to be ignored any longer.

“It’s not that I don’t want things to be different,” you admit, “But we can’t just erase the past, J.”

J meets your gaze, their eyes searching yours for something you’re not sure you can provide, “I know— But… can’t we at least try?”

You pause, the ache in your chest deepening. It’s not that you don’t want to try—you’re just sick of repeating the same mistakes. The pain of the past is still too fresh, and you’re not sure if either of you has truly moved on. Even after four years apart.

“We’ve hurt each other before, J— You’ve really hurt me," you say, your voice trembling, “I don’t want to go through that again.”

J’s expression softens, a hint of regret in their eyes, “I never meant to.”

You let out a sigh, your heart is torn between the desire to believe them and the need to protect yourself.

“I know,” you say simply.

Silence falls between you once more, the weight of your words hanging in the air. It’s a painful truth—one that you both have to face. As much as you may want to rekindle what was lost, the scars of the past run deep, and you’re not sure if they can ever fully heal.

J’s hands clench and relax by their sides, their voice is barely above a whisper, “I still care about you, you know. I think— I always will, somehow.”

You meet their gaze, the intensity of their words echoing in your heart.

“I think I’ll always love you too,” you say—boldly correcting them, saying what they never say—and frown when they cringe at your words. Desperate to lighten up the mood, you add, “Somehow.”

“Yeah... Somehow.”

The moment hangs heavy and awkward with the weight of your shared history, the emotions too complex to put into words.

[ruvastuon]

Travel Buddies

Thanks for the tag, @literally-just-zay

I'm picking my main WIP for this one.

1. Doing mad research for an affordable place for everyone to stay

Tori-, as the leader of this rag-tag group of fighters and by far the most sane of the bunch, the responsibility of accommodations often falls to him.

2. Hoping to try all the new food they can.

MA - Ever eager to try what the world has to offer past pain and suffering. MA will often try anything at least once, baring things that will directly harm those around her.

3. Wants to stay inside and sleep through the whole vacation.

Billy - He isn’t one for merriment and prefers to tend to plants or read books in his spare time.

4. Believes no vacation is complete without certain activities (going to the beach, swimming, skiing, sightseeing, hiking, ect, whatever they’re passionate about.

Hati - The resident mechanic is a staunch believer in doing things in the way that he believes is ‘objectively’ correct. If he gets the opportunity, he will drag others along with him willing or not.

5. Is annoyed that certain people are in the same travel group as them.

Billy and Ember - They tolerate each other for the sake of the whole, but with one being a pyromaniac far to willing to burn anything in her wake, and the other being a forest guardian, their personalities tend to mix like water and oil.

6. Buying souvenirs for everyone back home

Ma/Owen/Hati/Ember/Tori/ Billy - In that order. While some of them might be more stoic in their expressions of affection, everyone on the crew is fairly close besides Ember and Billy. While some of them don’t lean towards sentimentality, none of them can resist the urge to pick up bobbles that remind them of their squad mates.

7. Is about to turn this trip into a business trip.

Billy all the way. If he finds a target, his rifle is never far out of reach, and he will abruptly split off the group to do some “Gardening” if he sees someone that crosses his bottom line.

No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @flurrysahin @davycoquette ,

@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +open tag