#i'm so fucking tired of my shit pull luck in this game

[thingswhatareawesome]

oh look, another shit 10 warp. a qq eidolon i DON'T NEED bc she's already maxed what the fuck does it take to get freaking ting yun???

[fulcrumstardust]

Did you say 👀👀 Halloween fic 👀👀 tell us more 👀👀

yes hello thank you for giving me attention 🥰

maybe you were already there last year when I made my followers build a fic! then life happened etc, so I didn't deliver but I'm back at it 🎃👻🍬🦇💀🧡

for reference this was the winning result of my polls:

strangers meeting for the first time

instant connection/attraction, no chill

sneak out and do chaotic activities

dom!Cassian

slutty preview under the cut:

“Like you’re not wondering how I would fuck you,” he whispers in her ear, moving his head before he continues. “I bet you’re tired of those pizza guys pretending to be nice and charming who don’t give you what you need. Maybe you do it yourself so it’s not awkward afterward. Or you just say you had a good time and run for the closest exit available.”

Hey, now. This is so uncomfortably specific and yet deadly on target, what the fuck.

“Wow, and you know all that just by looking at me?” Jyn snarls. “Are you psychic?”

“You're not that hard to read.”. 

Finishing off the wounded, okay. The funny thing is, Jyn’s default response to emotional damage is not going to weekly therapy. Quite the opposite, in fact. The best defense is offense, or something. So, of course, her first instinct when a random stranger decides to sexually profile her in the middle of a crypt is to ask for credentials. She might be fucked up but she’s no coward. Take that, shithead. 

“So what’s your move? Go on, let’s see why you talk such a big game. Do your thing.” 

She waits, defying chin up, hoping that’ll shut him up. 

“Not here.”

Imagine her surprise when the first thing she registers is a sinking, burning disappointment. Yeah, she wanted to call his bluff, sure. But that doesn’t mean the man isn’t factually correct. And maybe if he bent her over a coffin, she’d calm down. Just throwing ideas out there. 

Jyn pushes him away, looking to get some personal space. “You're sending mixed signals, man. I don't like that.” 

Before she can move, Cassian pulls her back by the waist. This is getting danger-close to warranting a fist fight. If the dude keeps pushing his handsy luck… 

“My thing,” he explains with a neutral tone, “is to be in charge. Exclusively. I don't think you'd enjoy it here.”

Jyn unclenches her fists, staying put. Her shoulder against his comfortable chest. Thinking about it. “What, like, some kinky shit with chains and leather?”

Cassian’s laugh brushes over her face. His hands are back on her, somehow, and she still doesn't hate the electricity she feels at the contact. Maybe she should. Especially when his voice gets an octave lower and her self-control keeps checking out. 

“I don't need chains to make you beg. But I can put on gloves if you ask nicely.” 

This is… new.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part thirteen) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

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

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt + BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), cursing, brief mention of toxic relationships, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: I’m on vacation so, expect slow updates. I still plan on releasing them regularly though. Enjoy :))]]

"What?" Stanley asked -blankly.

"I'm going to start my trip to Eds in a few hours," Richie repeated, "-like maybe one actually, what time is it?"

"For you? 9:30," Stan continued, confused, "-Didn't he say a month?"

"Shit, 30 minutes," Richie huffed out, rushing over to his bag and checking his shit -before running out the door and turning the key, "-Yeah, he did. He just... He got sick and tired of not being here, with me, and I'm not gonna say fucking no to that."

"You'd never say no to Eddie in any circumstances," Stan leveled, "-be honest."

"Yeah, okay, fair point," Richie agreed, more than walking down the staircase (hopefully not enough to fall).

"What about your streams?" He followed up with, carefully.

"Told them I would miss this week's, at the very least, and keep them updated otherwise," Richie answered, pushing out the door to the surprisingly sunny day. He didn't really absorb it though, slipping into the parking lot and then his car.

"So, on a limb," Stanley gathered, slowly, "-you're going to, unprepared mind you, travel through 10 states?"

Richie put his phone into the holder, switching it to speaker and throwing his bag into backseat, "Is it 10?"

"Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania," Stanley listed, "-not counting California and New York."

"Huh," Richie spoke, grabbing his snack bag and throwing it into his passenger seat, "-Don't worry Stanthony, Eddie won't let me push any limits on taking care of myself. He made me send my location to his phone-"

"Smart," he commented.

"-Both so he could track me and keep an eye on my stops and shit."

"That's what-" Stan seemed to pause, thinking, "-realistically, 6 days?"

"Yeah, I found this article that tells me like where to go and where to stop, and-" Richie pressed his lips together, trying to remember -buckling, "-I'm pretty sure it said 6. Or maybe 5."

"Bev knows about this right?" He asked.

"Yeah," Richie answered, seamlessly, and slowly backing up, "-she got me up at the fucking crack of dawn to get ready."

"And yet, you were still almost late," Stanley commented, "-Figures."

"Only because I wanted to call you," Richie pointed out, pulling forward and onto the road -his phone chimed about going straight. Richie did so.

"You could've done that earlier this morning, Rich," he refuted.

"No," Richie contradicted, "-Bev took my phone away. Made me get all my shit together."

Stan questioned further, "Did you even fill up on gas?"

"Bev did, this morning," Richie explained, "-made me pack while she took care of car shit."

"Car shit?"

"She cleaned it out," he clarified, "-for Eds, and also grabbed me a shit ton of snacks, a cooler-"

"Ah," Stan hummed in recognition, "-I see. You'll still probably need to stop to eat. Snacks only get you so far, Rich."

"Yeah, yeah, save the speech, Stanny," Richie rolled his eyes, "-I've got it from both Eds and Bev today. I get it."

"Just saying," he added, calmly, "-Patty says be safe."

"Tell her I will," Richie responded, instinctively, "-and that I love her very dearly."

"Love you too, honey," Patty called out, distantly, "-if you have any car troubles, call us, okay? We'll figure it out."

They really were like his makeshift parents. Fuck, Richie loved them so much.

"Thanks Patts," Richie chimed, smiling big and wide.

"I gotta go, Rich," Stanley sighed out, "-We're going out for breakfast, but keep me updated. Actually, send me your location too."

"I will when I physically can, Stan," he hummed, noting the rhyme in his head.

"Don't be stupid," Stan finished, succinctly.

"No promises," Richie joked back, before responding seriously, "-Yeah, yeah, I get it. Go on your date, woo her beyond belief-"

"Shut up," he responded -flatly, "-Bye, Rich."

"Bye~" Richie smiled, stressing it out until he heard the dial tone.

He let out a big huff of breath, staring at the medium level of traffic -it would be better when he got on the interstate. He knew that. He just fucking hated being slow-

He fidgeted with a wrapper between his fingers (antsy) and tried to memorize the license plate in front of him. Maybe he could play that game where you try and find a license plate from every state-

His phone started ringing, loud through his speakers. He flinched so hard that he knocked his glasses askew.

"Fuck," he blinked, before eyeing the ID (💞 Eds💞) and moving his finger to answer.

"Hey Eddie baby," he called, smiling (I'm going to get him, he's gonna be here).

"Are you already driving?" Eddie questioned, and Richie took note to turn down his radio. (He thinks he was listening to The Climb by Miley Cyrus and feeling it a little too hard the last time he drove.)

"Yes sir," Richie chimed, "-right on schedule."

Eddie was following up before he could add anything else, "How much did you sleep last night? I know Bev got you up early-"

"Eds," Richie soothed, laughing a little, "-I'm fine, don't worry. I slept good. And I promise, if I'm getting tired, I'll hit the nearest rest stop."

"And you've got food?" He continued on his brigade. It was okay though, he knew it would make Eddie feel better in the long run.

"Yep," he popped the 'p', "-Bevvy got 'em, so I got half healthy and half the good shit. And before you ask, I have a cooler full of water too."

"Good," Eddie breathed out, it wracked through his chest and Richie noted that he sounded a little more relaxed. Good.

"How's everything going over there?" Richie asked -curiously.

"Just packing," Eddie explained, "-My landlord's a piece of shit, per usual."

Richie frowned, "What did he do?"

"Found out I was leaving early," Eddie sighed, "-I think my next-door neighbor, Meredith, snitched. I have no fucking clue how she knew, but I'm pretty sure it was her. He basically wanted to rent it out, after I was gone, even though I'd already paid for everything."

"Shit," Richie cursed, "-Did you figure something out?"

"Just threatened him with a legal charge," Eddie answered, casually, "-He decided to give me a refund then."

"Awe, Eds," Richie laughed, "-my little shit."

"He was breaking the contract, asshole," he bit back, cheeks most definitely puffed up, "-It was a perfectly viable option. The fucking idiot should've known that."

"Doesn't mean you're not a little shit, Spaghetti," Richie reasoned, mindlessly listening to the directions (in 2 miles, turn left onto I-40), "-but I love you for it, so."

Eddie was quiet for a second, and it rattled through his chest. Not really nervous, but kinda just settling along his skin. It was only a little weird saying that to Eddie, openly, and maybe even more so that he wasn't saying it back. He didn't want to rush him or anything, Richie just acknowledged that it felt strange without reciprocation. And maybe it was a little scary. But he wasn't going to push him, he loved him and maybe he wasn't ready and that was okay. Yeah.

"Does that mean there's shit you don't love me for?"

"Uh," Richie laughed a little, humming thoughtfully, "-not that I can think of."

Eddie countered, "No fucking way. Gimme something."

"Eds," Richie fully laughed then, "-I'm so fucking serious. I don't know if I can."

"Yeah, right," Eddie snorted, disbelieving.

"Spaghetti," Richie leveled, "-I'm in fucking love with you. All of you. In your feral gremlin glory-"

"Fuck you," Eddie hissed back.

"Eds, you can't say you're not a feral gremlin," Richie offered, laughing, "-You're like a lil chihuahua that bites everyone who tries to touch it."

Eddie paused for a second, "I wouldn't bite you, dickweed."

Richie smiled, "As sweet as that is, Eddie baby, you have. And you probably will in the next few minutes actually-"

"Not really," Eddie disagreed, "-I don't really fucking mean it. Other people I would definitely fucking bite."

"I like that you agree with my analogy," Richie commented, "-I know my Eds."

"Stop deflecting, moron," Eddie chastised, "-You know I don't mean it, right? Well, sometimes you are a fuckface, but-"

Richie laughed, staring out a the road ahead of him -he expected California to fade out eventually. And then, it might be a little scary. But a new adventure kinda scary. With Eddie at the end. Yeah, he could handle a little scary with that prize at the finish line.

"-I don’t, always, mean it. You're my fucking boyfriend, I'm moving in with you. Obviously, I like the shit out of you."

Like, his mind chimed and Richie shoved it far, far away. It's okay, really, he can wait-

"Yeah, I know, Eds," Richie smiled, wistfully (just a few days), "-You tell me that shit a lot."

"Well," Eddie's face screwed up in frustration (Richie could really just tell), "-you deserve to fucking hear it, so. Suck it up."

Richie laughed again. Oh, Eds, Eds, Eds. I really fucking love you.

"You have anything to do today?" Richie questioned, always so curious about what Eddie was doing. Especially when they were apart. He wanted to feel like he was there, like he'd run out for groceries and left him a note, like he'd detoured into some boujee clothing store and picked him out something. Like he was right there.

"You know I don't do shit," Eddie bit back, passively.

"You do shit," Richie disagreed, "-you run, and you watch shitty trashy TV that you'll never fucking admit to-"

"I swear to fucking god, Rich," Eddie huffed out a breath, "-I do not."

"Eddie baby, I know the sound of TLC when I hear it," Richie countered, grinning.

Eddie paused for a second, cheeks puffed up (Richie could visually see it in his mind), "It's just what's on-"

Richie laughed again, "Eds, it's a streaming service, not fucking cable."

"Okay, fine, yeah," Eddie exhaled a breath, biting, "-I'm fucking hooked on your shitty shows. Happy now?"

"Fucking elated," Richie chimed back.

Eddie laughed then, and Richie wanted to commit the sound to memory (like he always did), "You are such an asshole."

"Yeah, yeah, Spaghetti, I know the drill-" Richie let his last few chuckles out, radiating through his chest, "-but seriously, you doing anything fun today?"

"No," Eddie answered -frankly, "-I can't do shit right now."

Richie tilted his head curiously, passing over into another lane, "Why not?"

"Because you're fucking coming to get me."

"Eds," Richie laughed, "-it's gonna take like 6 days for me to get there, ya have time, trust me-"

"It's not that, dickweed," Eddie interrupted, starting in, "-I can't fucking focus on shit. At all. Because you're finally coming to get me. And I'm going back with you, getting out of this fucking shithole with you-"

Richie was grinning, fingers tapping along his wheel. God.

"-You're gonna be fucking tangible, right in front of me. And I can't stop thinking about that shit, so anything else is irrelevant. I'm putting all my focus on the important shit-"

"Awe," Richie cooed, "-Eds thinks I'm important."

"Of fucking course, you're important," Eddie retorted -a little bitterly, "-What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Richie faltered a second, laughing a little, "Eds, I was just joking."

"Yeah, joke about it," Eddie relented, "-but you have to know that you're the most important fucking person in my life. So."

"Most important?" Richie asked, blankly.

"Um," Eddie paused, awkwardly, "-yeah, Rich. You're you, and that's kinda all I fucking care about."

Richie pressed his lips together, blinking.

"Really? Top spot, number 1?"

"Richie, I just fucking said it," Eddie stated -bluntly.

"It's just-" Richie drummed his fingers along his steering wheel, staring at the car in front of him (oddly a bright orange van), "-that's... you're... I don't think I've ever been someone's most important person."

"Well," Eddie blew out a breath, "-you're mine. Fucking obviously."

"Well," Richie swallowed, blinking blearily, "-thank you, Eds. I don't... I've never..."

"Are you crying?"

"That's not my fault," Richie sniffed, laughing a little, "-you said I was the most important person to you. That's fucking... I don't know, it taps into some internal trauma or some shit-"

"Richie, I'm not making fun of you," Eddie spoke, softer.

"-and I guess I just... With my boyfriends and my parents, I wasn't... I was second best, ya know, but you... you're... I'm your most important fucking person. And it means like a lot to me."

Eddie was silent for a moment, like he wanted to say something but he couldn't. Richie didn't know how he knew that, but he was pretty fluent in Eddie-isms now. So, he could just... tell.

Richie gnawed at his lips for a moment, inhaling a breath -it was shaky, "You're my most important person too, Eds."

There was another pause, a breath. It made Richie let out a big exhale, my favorite and most important person. Shit. He was so done for. Eddie might be the love of his fucking life-

"Hurry up and fucking get here dickwad."

"Ya want me to speed, Eds," Richie laughed out, "-I'll speed. You say the word-"

"If you fucking die on the way to come and get me," Eddie hissed, "-I'll kill you."

Richie grinned, and responded flatly (very nasally, per usual), "Yes, dear."

"I can't fucking stand you," Eddie huffed out, "-You're such an asshole-"

The rest of the drive was the same, Eddie stayed on the phone the whole time and Richie was ecstatic about it. They bickered back and forth, and Richie told him he loved him probably 10 times (like he couldn't help it). And Eddie kind of strangely got quiet after, the same sort of feeling. It made Richie just a twinge nervous, but he knew Eddie really liked and cared about him so it must've been something good. Or something okay at least.

He was stressed (anxious really), but he'd try and talk to Eddie about it later. Not now.

Eventually, after harassment from Eddie (he did stay on the phone the entire time, "I like spending time with you, asshat."), Richie pulled off into a... moderate hotel. Eddie wouldn't let him go anywhere cheap, rambling about sicknesses and health codes and bed bugs, the usual shit. He listened, diligently, and maybe with a big ass grin on his face, because he, well... he loved the shit out of Eddie. And when Eddie was Eddie, he just fucking loved it.

That brought him to now, a therapy call.

It was planned to be at yesterday, he should note, but Steve had called him while he was driving, and requested to schedule it for later. Richie guessed so as to not endanger him, sorting out your feelings while on the interstate sounded like a fucking nightmare, so he agreed wholeheartedly. Not to mention Eddie would have completely lost his shit if he'd insisted on driving through it, and Richie frankly did not want Eddie to lose his shit. Not when Richie couldn't properly be there.

"So," Steve echoed out carefully, "-your new boyfriend, Eddie, who we have discussed previously, has said, three months, then a month, and then tomorrow. And now, you're currently on a 6-day, unplanned, road trip to get him?"

"Technically 5-day now, but yeah," Richie answered, before asking jokingly (they'd talked a little bit about his nervous habit of being a shithead when things got too serious. Steve probably expected it), "-So, am I a lunatic, doc?"

"Not necessarily," Steve added, gently, "-it just sounds like you really care about him. Have you considered the fact that you might... love him, Richie?"

"About that," he laughed, fidgeting with his hair and eyeing the early morning sun creeping through the window (it was maybe 7:30), "-I do, and I told him that."

There was a lingering pause, maybe based on Richie's tone.

"But?"

"He's not," Richie breathed out, "-He's not saying it back. And I get that he might need time, I do, and I shouldn't expect him to do anything-"

"Richie, you're going to do that naturally," Steve amended, pointedly, "-Your past relationships have made you susceptible to anxiety on whether or not they truly cared about you. Loved you, even. This relationship has the same effect, even though you do somewhat know that Eddie cares about you deeply. So, don't put this negative perspective on yourself with the way you're wired to react. It only serves to impact your own self-worth, and put something on you that you can't quite help at this point."

Richie pressed his lips together.

"Instead," he continued, "-let's discuss your expression. Have you told Eddie that you're having this reaction? That it's bothering you?"

"No," Richie answered, quietly, "-I don't want him to feel guilty and just... fucking say it because it would make me feel better."

"Do you think Eddie would do that?" Steve questioned.

And Richie thought about it then. Really fucking thought about it.

'There's nothing wrong with you Rich.'

'And then I did it to you, the person I think I care about the most in the world-'

'But, you're not too much. At least not to me.'

'And stop fucking talking about yourself like that, you're one of fucking kind, Rich. I have never met a person like you, and that makes you fucking special.'

'And before your brain starts shit, I like the fuck out of you.'

'Because I actually want to fucking take care of you and your stupid brain.'

'I just care about you. And personally, that's all that matters to me.'

'Yeah, joke about it, but you have to know that you're the most important fucking person in my life.'

Richie felt tears burn the backs of his eyes, sob crawling up his throat. Eddie wouldn't do that. Ever. God.

"No," he answered, succinctly.

"So, communicate that with him!" Steve continued, "-If Eddie cares as deeply about you as you say he does, I imagine he'd want to soothe you over something like this."

Richie threw himself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Something in his chest was lighter. Yeah, his mind echoed, he really fucking would.

"It doesn't help to question things yourself," Steve added, "-All that will come of that is negativity. You know that."

He did.

Richie let out a long breath, "Yeah, okay, doc. I'll ask him."

"Good," he affirmed, "-I'm going to schedule your next appointment fairly soon, after you get Eddie most likely. I want to see how you're doing with that. 5 days, yes?"

"Yeah," Richie replied.

"But if you need anything, you-"

"Call you," Richie finished, instinctively, "-I know."

"Okay, Richie," Steve chimed, lighter, "-I'll talk to you again in a few days. Stay safe."

"Will do, doc," he replied, laughing a little, "-will do."

Richie was supposed to leave at 10, so he had some time. And he kinda wanted to alleviate the nerves, so. He took it upon himself to listen to Steve, and ask.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

hey eds

can I ask u something?

The response was nearly instant, Eddie was probably wide awake right now (it was 10 in the morning). So, it made sense.

e.kaspbrak

Of course, Rich.

What's up?

Richie stared at it for a second, anxiety making his skin prickly. He wanted to either fidget with something, hide under his blankets for a few hours, or rub his arms until they didn't feel like that anymore. After a few breaths, he steeled. You can do this, Tozier.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

don't take this as rushing u or anything

but Steve told me to ask

to soothe my worries or some shit

e.kaspbrak

You're kind of freaking me out, Richie.

He took a deep breath in.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why haven't u told me u love me yet ?

There was a pause. And Richie watched as the bubble continued in the bottom of his screen, for a little too long than expected. Well, maybe he should've expected it, actually. That was a pretty loaded question.

His phone started vibrating in his hands.

e.kaspbrak is calling

Richie blinked once, quickly answering. Before he could even get out a greeting, Eddie started talking.

"Richie?"

"Heya, Eds," Richie breathed out, a little nervous. He was busying his hands, packing the stuff he pulled out for the night (dispelling anxious energy probably).

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Eddie near immediately followed up, and Richie could tell he was worried.

"Really not long, Eds," he replied, gathering his bag in his arms and grabbing his room key (it was 9:45, and Richie was supposed to leave around 10 every day), "-I promise."

Eddie paused, tone careful, "Is it... Do you think you're not lovable? Is that... Is that what's happening?"

Richie sighed out, mouthing thank you to the front desk lady and dropping the key into her hand, "Steve basically said that it was natural, because my whole life I've been fucking... you know. And just not... given, you know, affection and shit, so I... Yeah, I guess so."

Eddie huffed out and whispered something to himself that Richie couldn't catch ("This is so fucking-"), "Richie, you're so fucking lovable, it drives me insane."

Richie laughed a little, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your fucking stupid jokes, and your snorty ass laugh, and your stupidly frizzy curls that you seriously need to take care of-" Eddie listed off (like he was genuinely pissed), "-and you're charming as fuck. God."

"Um," Richie pursed his lips, blush splotchy against his skin -throwing his bag into the back, "-thank you? I think?"

"Yes, yeah," Eddie clarified, huffing out a breath, "-It's a fucking compliment."

"Okay," Richie smiled a little, "-Well, then, thanks, Eds."

"And I just," Eddie spoke, cutting himself off, "-There's nothing wrong with you, Richie, you're-"

He paused, a moment of silence. Maybe trying to figure out his words, or what he wanted to say.

"-fucking amazing. It's just... God, fuck. I have this whole... Ugh-"

Richie started up the car (hooking it up to his radio), furrowing his brow but still smiling, "Eddie baby, you're not making a lot of sense."

Eddie groaned, and he had never felt more confused in his life. What the fuck is happening?

"Eds," Richie started, gently -worried now, and slowly backing out, "-is everything okay?"

"I wanted-" Eddie huffed out a breath, "-I wanted to... But, it's just so fucking hard-"

"Eds," Richie leveled, "-seriously. You're freaking me out."

"God," Eddie sighed, like he was really fucking reluctant, "-okay."

Richie just waited patiently, pulling out onto the road. He really wasn't sure what to do about it, or how to respond at all. Eddie wasn't really being the clearest, despite Richie knowing the Eddie-isms at this point.

"I want to say it in person."

Richie blinked, "What?"

"It's-" Eddie exhaled a breath, "-I haven't said it yet because I want to say it in person."

Richie pressed his lips together, blinking again, "Oh."

"But," Eddie continued, more frustrated, "-you're making it so fucking hard, asshole."

Richie blinked again, squeaking out, "What?"

"You heard me, dipshit," Eddie added, "-You keep fucking saying that you love me, and then you're you-"

"Eddie baby," Richie laughed, "-I can't just fucking stop being me."

"-and I just fucking... God."

Richie was definitely giggling now, driving down the road with a big ass grin. He felt a little like he was floating, up and out of the car through the fucking clouds-

"I'm gonna stick to my word," Eddie exhaled, "-and I'm not gonna... I'm not gonna fucking say it until you're here, but-"

Richie felt his heart leap into his chest.

"-I do. Richie, I do. So fucking much."

Richie smiled, eyes a little teary as he stared out onto the pavement. So fucking much.

"I love you so fucking much, Eds," he laughed out, still crying, "-Too fucking much, probably."

"I think just enough," Eddie grinned (Richie could fucking hear it), "-We can both be batshit crazy about each other. I think that's fair."

"Yeah?" Richie smiled, fingers tapping along the wheel (he was so fucking happy).

"What?" Eddie asked, playfully, "-You're not fucking batshit crazy about me?"

"Oh, Eds," Richie snorted, "-You have no fucking idea."

There was a pause for a second, and Richie waited -smiling. God, he fucking-

"I think I do, Rich," Eddie responded, fondly (fucking affectionately even), "-I think I do."

[thessalian]

Thess vs the Kulrut

I got woken up way before I wanted to by a large transit van (badly parked right outside my bedroom window) kept fucking beeping as it was driven by apparently a really shitty driver. Or something; there was beeping and now the badly-parked van is not there anymore. So I decided to just stay woken up and did the whole deal with the Kulrut. With ... the occasional detour.

I think I'm going to get those last couple of campfires before I do much else. Off I go.

Ooh, Scorcher site. Lemme just hide in this bush here aaaaaaaaand ... POONK.

Okay, something's alerted but I don't actually see any machines. What the fuck?

Maybe they were up on that cliff over there and got alerted by the boom, because there is nothing on the ground. I'll stealth over and scavenge. Quietly. Just in case.

Well. Whatever machine I spooked clearly does not give a shit about me. Okay.

And it's ... starting to get dark. Wonder if I could get me an Apex Tremortusk if I go back to that campfire I just found and fast travel back to that Tremortusk site.

.........Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.

You. Are. Definitely a little harder to kill, Mr Apex Tremortusk.

But ... not that much harder to kill. GIVE ME YOUR MECHANICAL INNARDS.

Okay. Enough messing around. Back to the Memorial Grove.

Yes, I will go and help your defenses. Lemme just pick up some data points first.

Right. Off to the north with me--

Oh, hi, Tekotteh. Showed your smug little face, huh? Yeah, yeah, are you really threatening the one who pulled a fucking mountain down around your ears? Just because she won't listen to your bullshit? Ha. No. Didn't think so. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go actually work while you lounge like an asshole.

This game reeeeeeally wants me to use a cannon, doesn't it. Alright, fine. JUST THIS ONCE.

YES DEKKA I KNOW YOU HAVE ANOTHER CANNON FOR ME BUT YOU CAN HAVE IT, THANKS.

Okay, field clear, but that is not going to be it.

ALOY YOU HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE SHUT UP.

Yeeeeeeeep. Hello, Slitherfang.

NO I WILL NOT LEAD THE SLITHERFANG INTO BALISTA RANGE I AM GOOD ON THIS SNIPER PERCH THANK YOU.

See? I've killed nastier. I'm good.

And ... you really don't want to give me earthgrinders, do you, Slitherfang asshole. Well, fine, I'll go hunt some more of you later. FINE.

Okay, over to help Hekarro and Kotallo--

LOOK I CAN SPARE TEN SECONDS TO POONK SOME OF YOUR ENEMIES IN THE FACE FUCK OFF.

Welp. It's a really impressive set piece of a cutscene, but damnit, why can I not just shoot Regalla in the face? She is right there.

...Oh, come on. Really? I have to let her get away? My draw arm isn't even tired! Also, throwing "everything you have" at us is not that much a threat when I have systematically taken down every. Single. Rebel camp in most if not all territories. And the Sons of Prometheus are basically scrapped, so ... good luck, Regalla.

So now's when Hekarro declares everyone who helped defend him to be Marshals-- yep.

HUZZAH. But you can say you'll let me go about my task all you want, Hekarro, but Regalla's going to make damn sure that it's my job to kick her ass. I know the type.

Hi, AETHER. Hop aboard! Destination: GAIA.

Oh. When I saw a holovid data point called "Unity", I didn't think it'd be ... this. There are some moments in this game, lemme tell you.

AHAHAHA THE LOOK KOTALLO GAVE TEKOTTEH IS SENDING ME OMG.

...waitwut.

Awwwwwww Kotallo OMG. "Unity" takes on a whole new meaning at this point, doesn't it. Outcast - so of all clans and none at the same time - with Nora, Oseram, Carja if you count Talanah (need to look for her in Barren Light, I think), Utaru, and Tenakth. And even Zenith, more or less, given Beta. It's a nice message. We need more of it. Just ... y'know. In general.

Hi, Dekka. What's the what?

...How did I know that we were going to have to try to talk a rebel Tenakth around eventually? Yeah, I'll see what I can do but I want to check a few things first.

So you want some bits to help you rebuild your balista. Okay, I have the tusks you need, at least, but ... y'know, if you'd all given me five seconds to loot the machines that attacked the Kulrut, you'd have your sinew--

No? Okay, fine, I will hunt a fucking Rollerback. But I hate Rollerbacks. And the idea of hunting them in your training / entertainment arena doesn't really appeal but maybe you'll have something spiffy for me later.

...Oooooooh, so that's what the tags are for. Yeah, I have plenty, and I could just give them to you-- Oh. You insist on rewarding me for them so in order to be able to get rid of the jingly tags, I need to fix your balista. Okay. Fine.

Okay, so before I solve everybody's problems, I need a break.

No, seriously. I'm trying to be better about the whole "food" thing. Just my appetite's been shit lately, so my food intake has been minimal. Even with relatively minimal activity, that shit's not good for me. So I'm going to try to eat something resembling lunch. Then I will go help Dekka's grandson and hunt a fucking Rollerback because I guess that's what we're doing now. And then it probably gets ... spicy.

[vertraumend]

I've been working on comms as of late, and I've been sucked right back into Black Desert. (I made my spouse's OC in it as a scholar bc why not, and then it turns out that the scholar is sick and I love her lore and moveset like holy fuck ... the overarching story is still shit but I'm over here bludgeoning enemies with two huge hammers.) ANYWAY I'm behind on PtN and HSR.

incoming rant below

but ... I am most likely going to stop playing Twst. I'll keep up with it via translations from JP, but the game just??? It's not fun for me. I'm tired of the continuous disappointment when I pull on any banner. Like since the year started I haven't pulled a single SSR, and trust me I've blown through more than enough pulls that at some point I should have gotten at least 1 or 2. But pity doesn't work in twst like it works in PtN or HSR or even F FUCKING GO. I think in total I only have like 27 SSRs since I started playing, which feels like a lot until I am harshly reminded that I had to put down over 500 in cash to get that amount. And the grind isn't fun. The official localization is mindbogglingly bad at times. The mischaracterization ... ughhh I could go on.

I hate bouncing between twst and PtN, doing only like 50 pulls or less on PtN and walking away with up to two S-ranks, while twst gives me nothing. it's kinda disheartening. ummm also PtN's localization is really good?? like really fucking good. HSR suffers a little because honestly, it takes a bit to get a 5* to show up, at least with my luck. but frankly for games that I've put less money into, I tend to get more bang for my buck than I have with twst. Why does it take 100+ pulls to get a fucking SSR?? is this f/go??

so yeah, I'm probably going to drop twst bc I can't do it anymore. the game isn't fun for me. I'll keep up with it bc I'm invested in the characters, and the overarching story, but I'm just not into the gameplay.

[thelittlestspider]

🧠 🤲 !!

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

(i couldn't pick just one, so here's a few)

peter

- peter plays games like online solitaire, chess, sudoku.

- he goes on wikipedia, hits random and reads whatever articles pop up. he can sit there reading for hours.

- his comfort movie is legally blonde.

- he has a memorial tattoo for gwen.

ash

- this is more of a crack headcanon turned beloved, but i love the thought of him being an estranged member of the addams family. or morticia's family the frumps. i think in this one ash's mom was a frump.

wade

- wade loves parties. going to them, throwing them, it doesn't matter.

- wade loves pop music. britney spears, abba. he also loves charlie's angels.

(wade is britney coded and ash is lana coded. which are really funny energies to put together lol)

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

this is a scene from these hungry streets i haven't really had time to write yet, but it's peter/ash with hints of their sun/moon imagery.

peter sits up on the edge of a building, tired and discouraged. he's been swinging around for what feels like forever in the hopes of finding ash walking around in the early hours like before.

in his absorption with his thoughts, he almost misses her. but williams luck cancels out parker luck and he sees ash walking down the sidewalk below, dressed in a white wedding dress and veil, long legs eating up the pavement in graceful strides despite the high heels she's wearing.

she stops under a streetlamp to fish a cigarette and a lighter out of her garter pocket, lights up, and takes a drag, her face tilted up, eyes closed. peter's throat dries. she's so fucking beautiful. like some horrible angel made in a lab specifically to torment him.

peter's climbing down before he even realizes he's moved, jumping to the top of the streetlamp and gliding down it from a web upside down. ash hasn't seen him yet.

"what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" ash immediately whirls around and punches him with her metal hand, quick as lightning, but peter's faster and catches her hand. "hey hey, it's just me, angel."

ash frowns, brows drawn together in anger.

"don't fucking scare me like that, you asshole," ash says. "what the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"i was looking for you," replies peter, jumping down from the web strand. he moves closer to ash, hoping she isn't going to sock him again. ash just looks at him with those big dark eyes, made even bigger with the liner and mascara. her makeup glitters in the light, shimmering every time she moves, making her face look luminous. peter is entranced.

"why?"

"because i wanted to see you." it comes out more earnest than he'd meant, and peter cringes inwardly. might as well go for broke. "and to beg you to take me back."

"peter..."

"no wait, just listen to me," peter reaches for ash, pulling her closer. ash goes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. peter almost gives in to the weak feeling inside him that wants to just sink into her, but fights it back so he can say his piece. "i love you, and i'm sorry--"

"peter, i love you too." peter's heart skips a beat. "but you have severe emotional problems and you need help." peter pulls back to look at her incredulously. ash rolls her eyes. "yeah i know. that's rich coming from miss mental illness america. but pete the way we're going isn't healthy. we almost ended up holding hands on the metaphorical train tracks."

"look, i'll give you anything, tell you whatever you wanna know, just don't disappear again."

"i can't promise that. but i'll try to leave a note if i do."

peter sighs in relief. "that's all i ask."

they stand there under the street light for a moment, embracing each other. ash pulls back with a tentative smile.

"do you wanna go to a party with me?" asks ash. peter's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden change in subject.

"a party?"

"yeah, that's where i was going when you scared the shit out of me. mystery inc. throws them every year."

peter gasps. "you know mystery inc.?"

"yeah, we help each other out sometimes." ash pulls out of peter's arms and tugs his hand in the direction he assumes the mystery gang's place is. "i didn't know you were a mystery inc. fan."

"i have all their books," replies peter, embarrassed. ash laughs.

[doomxdriven]

MUSE TRACKS !

post   3 — 5     songs   that   remind   you   of   your   muse.

tagged by: stole it from my old blogs lmao tagging: you! if you've never done this before!

foo fighters -- THE PRETENDER: Keep you in the dark ╱ You know they all pretend ╱ Keep you in the dark ╱ And so it all began ╱ Send in your skeletons ╱ Sing as their bones go marching in again╱ They need you buried deep ╱ The secrets that you keep are ever ready ╱ Spinning infinity, boy ╱ The wheel is spinning me ╱ It's never-ending, never-ending ╱ Same old story ╱ What if I say I'm not like the others? ╱ What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays? ╱ You're the pretender ╱ What if I say I will never surrender? ╱ In time or so I'm told I'm just another soul for sale, oh well ╱ We are not permanent we're temporary, temporary ╱ Same old story

cleopatrick -- PEPPERS GHOST: I swear shit hadn't changed since the day that I spawned in╱ And that's what I wanted, my god, holding on to nostalgia ╱ Oh, that's when the whale devoured me entirely, I stood ╱ Behind the teeth and tried to see through all the irony of being duped ╱ It was all a ruse, I'm fucking screwed man ╱ Yeah, I thought I could verify who was on my side, man ╱ I swore I'd seen it with my own two eyes man ╱ I guess I'm a fool for fucking fallacy ╱ When Peppers Ghost gets smoking mirrors in my vicinity, yeah ╱ Yeah, they look fucking real to me

mansions -- DIG UP THE DEAD: Saw that mountain burn or was it in my head? ╱ I'll track down the words if you dig up the dead ╱ Well, I have never been free, but I have always been cheap ╱ No, I have never been free╱ But nothing in my bones can say just where you've been ╱ Nothing in my bones can let me start again, but I'll start again ╱ My eyelids falling down, all my dreams in black and white ╱ I see so clearly now I won't ever get it right

brand new -- AT THE BOTTOM: There's a lake ╱ And at the bottom you'll find all our friends ╱ They don't swim cause they're all dead ╱ We never are what we intend, or invent ╱ 'Cause I make little lies and then I pull them apart ╱ Think something dark's living down in my heart ╱ Some men die under the mountain just looking for gold ╱ Some die looking for a hand to hold

rise against -- PRAYER OF THE REFUGEE:   Don't hold me up now I can stand my own ground ╱ I don't need your help now ╱ We are the angry and the desperate ╱ The hungry and the cold ╱ But we've been sweating while you slept so calm in the safety of your home ╱ We've been pulling out the nails that hold up everything you've known

foo fighters --  ALL MY LIFE:   All my life I've been searching for something ╱ Something never comes, never leads to nothing ╱ Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close ╱ Closer to the prize at the end of the rope ╱ Hey, don't let it go to waste ╱ I love it but I hate the taste ╱ Done, done and I'm on to the next one

taking back sunday --  BULLET WITH BUTTERFLY WINGS:   The world is a vampire, sent to drain ╱ Secret destroyers hold you up to the flames ╱ And what do I get for my pain? ╱ Betrayed desires and a piece of the game Despite all my rage ╱ I am still just a rat in a cage ╱ Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved ╱ And I still believe that I can not be saved

metallica --  THE UNFORGIVEN:   They dedicate their lives to running all of his ╱ He tries to please them all ╱ This bitter man he is ╱ Throughout his life the same ╱ He's battled constantly ╱ This fight he cannot win ╱ A tired man they see no longer cares ╱ What I've felt, what I've known ╱ Never shined through in what I've shown ╱ Never free, never me ╱ So I dub thee unforgiven

brand new -- NORO: Little light lead us through the night ╱ And if we die burn down the forest ╱ I'm on my way to hell ╱ Why doesn't anyone I know sleep? ╱ Are they all just scared of their dreams?╱ When they lay their heads down at night ╱ What are they haunted by? ╱ Why won't anyone just close their eyes? ╱ Could it hurt them to rest for a while? ╱ Getting dark ╱ Running out of luck ╱ How am I ever gonna know peace? ╱ How will I ever see the light through the trees? ╱ I want to burn down everything we've begun ╱ I want to kill and eat my young

phantogram -- BLACK OUT DAYS: Hide the sun ╱ A thousand voices howling in my head ╱ Speak in tongues ╱ Dig a hole ╱ Fireworks exploding in my hands ╱ If I could paint the sky all the stars would shine a bloody red

marilyn manson -- PERSONAL JESUS: Your own personal Jesus ╱ Someone to hear your prayers ╱ Someone who cares ╱ Someone who's there ╱ Flesh and bone by the telephone ╱ Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer ╱ Things on your chest ╱ You need to confess ╱ I will deliver ╱ You know I'm a forgiver ╱ Reach out, touch faith

[barbaracleboy]

Bluh...Y'know what? Three strikes, I think I'm done with Tumblr Tournaments. First I joined one (submitting a Character and paying attention to what was going on) and I thought it would be enjoyable, but then there was some bullshit right at the beginning that soured the whole thing for me.

Then there was one that I didn't even choose to join for fear of drama, and while there was next-to-no drama (to my knowledge) there was a Character I disliked getting shoved down my throat often. And then said Character I disliked won so :/

And now I tried again at having fun with one, and due to bad luck and I suppose bad choices on my part all but one of the Characters I submitted were dropped in the Qualifying Polls, and the one that did make it was put into what I genuinely believe was the most unfair position it could possibly have been in. Seriously, I'm not sure how the luck could have been worse there. And I know it was luck, I won't get mad at anyone over it (especially because the tournament host is a nice person), but damn, my fucking luck fucking sucks. And with how the actual polls are set up I feel little-to-no-reason to actual care about the polls, not just because I don't care about most of the Characters taking part but because most of the most popular Characters are on the right side, and based off the kinds of people submitting to the tournament I know at least one of those Characters are gonna have obnoxious campaigns led by assholes that're proud of being assholes pulling randos from wherever they can to add to votes. That's all assuming that one of the Characters involved doesn't win another tournament, with the same theme to boot.

I'm just so tired. I'm not even getting into how there's apparently been other kinds of drama with other tournaments that I haven't really kept up with, but even ignoring drama I'm just so sick of the tournaments in general. It feels like every other day there are two or three more tournaments and they keep making more and more arbitrary categories like "Best Blue-Haired Character!", "Best Character with a Stutter!", "Best Little Brother!" And, I mean, people are allowed to do what they want but I'm also allowed do dislike what I want and I just don't get how people can get invested in one Tournament, let alone the half a dozen I see when I'm just browsing peoples' blogs.

Tournaments just suck, honestly. At best it's praying that a Character you like has a big enough fanbase and/or isn't put up against someone from one of the most fucking popular indie games in the world. At worst you're dealing with people that are extremely annoying about the Character they like because that shit seems to be encouraged in this situation. The most annoying person I know keeps getting wins with their Characters so whatever.

I'm just gonna mute any Tournament Tags I see from here on out and just try to ignore that side. It'll suck ass when people don't actually make unique tags for their Tournament posts (I know of at least one like that right now) but it's the best I can think of.

...I'm gonna bury this. I was already pretty frustrated lately so that may or may not be making me more upset about this shit than I otherwise would be but whatever.

[kiridarling]

"𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒."

izuku midoriya | friends older brother!izuku + college student!reader + f!reader + squirting + size kink + more! minors dni! does this count? as dark content?

— 2.4k words

"It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

“[Y/N?]”

“Uh, hey Izuku!” You smile, grip tightening around the strap to your bag. Izuku fills the doorway, broad shoulders kissing both sides of the frame, and you can’t help but feel minuscule in comparison. “Kota around?”

Izuku shakes his head, peering over his shoulder for a second before returning his attention to you with a click of his tongue. "Uh, no I think he's out with Eri. They should be back soon though...it's been a few hours."

"Shit," you curse under your breath. Your friend's older brother smiles in apology, biceps straining under his white tee.

"You need something?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing your eyes back onto his, instead of the broad chest presented at eye-level. "Just my precalc book."

Izuku waits a second, thinking, before his palm claps against the doorframe and he's walking deeper into the house. "Come on in, then! I'm sure he won't mind."

You step into the house after him, and it's...weird. Weird being with your Kota's older brother without Kota there, because despite the thousands of times you've been in your best friend's house and as well as you know the greenette, you and Izuku have never been alone.

"Find it?"

You've been rummaging through Kota's room for a solid ten minutes and somehow still empty-handed, moving slowly in fear you'll see something you can't unsee. And hey, with Kota and Eri dating, anything's possible.

"No," you sigh, ready to give up rather than find a strap-on. "It's fine. I can just come to get it tomorrow or something."

"How soon do you need it?" The greenette asks, his forearms leaning against his younger brother's dresser. You take a seat on Kota's comforter instead, silently hoping you'll find your book by accidentally breaking your tailbone against the damn thing; you're a little disappointed when all your ass comes in contact with is a plush mattress.

"Like, tonight," you grieve, knowing that tomorrow morning, your math grade will suffer severely. "'S fine though. There's always another test."

Izuku snorts at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to you. The bed whines under his weight but doesn't collapse, and you feel a little bad to say you're surprised. Voice full of reminiscence, he sighs, "Ah, the college days."

You giggle, "You act like they're lightyears behind you."

"They might as well be," the greenette shrugs, before reaching behind your waist to steal a pillow. "Couldn't tell you a thing I learned."

You shrug trying to remember the last time you’ve felt prepared for a test, “Neither can I.”

Izuku chuckles and nods, though you’re convinced it’s because he has nothing to say. An awkward silence takes possession of the room by the neck, and you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say that could give you an excuse to leave, or at least redirect his strange yet heavy gaze. As Izuku licks his lips, you notice how close you two actually are, as he's big to the point where your shoulders almost brush, but not quite.

"How um, hows your boyfriend?"

You scoff at that, but you suppose it's been a while since you and the greenette have talked one on one—and the last time you had, you weren't single.

"Oh uh, he's fine, I guess," you brush it off with a shrug and a wave, cringing at the thought of how that ended. "I don't know. We broke up a while ago, so."

"Oh sorry!" Izuku flushes and throws a hand over his mouth, and you giggle.

"You're fine. He was an asshole anyway," you chuck a laugh, but it's not really that funny. Frankly, he's left too many emotional scars to count, along with the ones healing from past exes. "I...don't have a good reputation when it comes to picking boyfriends."

“So, I’ve heard—no offense,” he says sheepishly, though you don't blame him. You've definitely had a few surprise visits caused by a nasty break-up or two, knowing this is the place you'll probably find both of your best friends hiding out. When Izuku speaks again, it’s borderline awkward as his eyes dart around the room, cheeks puffed and lips pursed in apprehension. “Found...anyone new?”

You frown, “Anyone new.”

“Yeah!” Izuku exclaims, and it’s almost encouraging. “Like a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Um, no. Like I said, I don’t have much luck with that type of stuff.”

Izuku snorts, rolling his eyes before he’s adjusting himself to lay on the pillow, half of his body upright. “I bet you do. You might not realize it, but you do.”

Now it’s your turn to snort and roll your eyes, leaning back on your hands with a huff. "You're just being nice, Izuku."

"No, seriously!" He props himself higher so you can see he really is serious, evergreen eyes locked and deadset, "Like—okay, and this might be a TMI or something, but how do they, y'know, and then be dicks, y'know?"

"They don't."

"They don't...what?"

"They don't...make me cum," you heave with great depression, despite the seemingly surface-level complaint. With wrists tightening around your ankles, you hate uncomfortably in the silence, and watch Izuku's mouth open and close, before it opens and closes again.

"Like...never?"

"No." You give him a weird look.

"But what about your last boyfriend? I thought he—"

"I don't know what you're looking for, Izuku," you chuckle, shaking your head. The greenette seems more pained than he is shocked, eyes wide with a big fat pout in place of a neutral face. "It's not like I haven't had an orgasm before. Just...not with someone else."

"That's not the same!" Izuku defends, slowly becoming more animated than you've ever seen him. "It's like...more passionate with another person, you know? And that makes everything a whole lot hotter."

"Thanks," you huff, mood souring more than it already has. Izuku's mouth stills once he realizes what he's essentially bragging, guilt clouding his face. As you exhale out of your nose, you can't escape feeling bad for snapping. "Look. I'm perfectly fine with being the only person to be able to make myself cum. It's not that deep."

"You sound like you expect no one to be able to," Izuku snorts with a raised eyebrow, shoulders bumping against yours. "You've just...had bad boyfriend luck. That doesn't mean no one's capable of doing it."

"Well," you click your tongue bitterly, because you've heard all of this before, and you're utterly tired of hearing it. "They've been able to make all their exes orgasm. And it's not like it even matters, relationships aren't abou—"

"I could do it."

"I—" you blink, shaking your head at the pure audacity of his request? Suggestion? Comment? Whatever the fuck. "Excuse me?"

"I—wait, listen," Izuku rushes like you're getting ready to book it the fuck out of there, sitting upright so his body is turned to yours. "You're...it's...I've been told I'm good with my fingers, right?"

And what a way to start a story.

"Izuku, in the nicest way, every guy is like this," you scoff, "He thinks he's all that just because a chick or two said you made her feel really good. I don't need to fake another orgasm."

"You won't have to," Izuku purrs cockily, leaning forwards on his hands and making you wonder where all of this is coming from. "Let's play a game of simon says, yeah?"

"Simon—" your chest collapses with a giggle of pure disbelief, "I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"I wouldn't be offering if you were," the greenette reasons, eyes growing dark slowly, if any. "Yes or no?"

"What's the catch?" You bargain and Izuku huffs a laugh. You can feel it on your face.

"No catch, Pretty," he hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your fingers. "It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

You gulp as Izuku lifts a hand—and a very large one, at that—and it's jagged and rough with scars and bulky knuckles. His free hand makes you grab his wrist and you're fingertips barely touch, but you’re pulling his hand south by your own volition.

“Gotta take your pants off first,” he chuckles, and you flush red. That would be helpful, yes.

It doesn't take long before they're off though, flung towards a corner somewhere—and this is when you realize that maybe, you shouldn't do this on Kota's bed.

"Izuku maybe we shoul—"

But before you can say anything else, he's pushing your panties to the side and shoving both fingers into you at once, eyebrows folding as he groans under his breath from the sensation.

"So wet already? Clearly, someone likes this more than they let on."

"I—what the fuck happened to simon says!" You yelp, but his fingers don't move. Izuku just beams like the deceptive asshole he is.

"Game starts now," is all he says, and you're huffing, propping yourself up on your elbows. Izuku's fingers might as well have knocked the wind out of you, lungs struggling to find room to breathe as he curls his fingers to tap directly onto your g-spot with worrying precision.

"Simon says um, move please," you grunt out. Izuku's fingers stay still, and you frown, kicking him in the thigh. "Hey, I sai—"

"You gotta be more specific than that, Pretty,” he says with a grin. You snarl. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I..." you start, but it's fucking embarrassing, and you know Izuku feels you twitch around him when you say: "Can you um, fuck me with your fingers."

He doesn't move.

"Simon says fuck me with your fingers, asshole," you grunt with narrowed eyes, though they widen when he starts to pump his fingers in and out, chuckling when you shiver from the dexterity.

Except, his fingers move painfully slow, and you find yourself gritting your teeth at the speed when he doesn't make an effort to go any faster. You click your tongue—he's really going to make you request everything, isn't he?

"Simon says faster," you growl with a challenge burning in your eyes, and Izuku meets them with equal fire, fingers finally forgetting their torturous pace for a much quicker one. Finally.

"Fuck! Simo—simon says right t-there," your legs spread wider and Izuku makes more room for himself in between. He hums with dark eyes as you whimper and whine his name, writhing in his younger brother's sheets like they belong to him—like you belong to him.

"I wanna touch you all the time, you know," Izuku grunts before cursing at the sight of your wetness around his fingers. "Make you feel good, make you mine. I don't think Kota would approve, though."

"We don—" you wheeze and he places a hand next to your head, towering over you. The angle only gets better, your hands digging into the sheets as Izuku's fingers curl just right. "We don't have to tell him."

Izuku chuckles at that, chest rumbling as he leans in closer to the point where your noses nearly touch. "You dirty fucking girl."

You moan at that, hips bucking into his hand. You're so close and yet you need more, something else to push you over the edge for good. With a whimper behind a bitten lip, you say, "S-Simon says rub my clit."

Izuku's thumb falls upon your clit and you squeal from the amount of initial pressure, thighs jolting from the white-hot waves that pump through your bloodstream as his thumb moves in small, ever-quickening circles that have you gripping for Kota's comforter for dear life.

"Iz—Izuku I'm gonna—g-gonna cum," you pant, and he's ripping his hands away before you can even reach a hint of the edge. You glare at him out of pure and utter betrayal, and he beams.

"Simon didn't say, did he?"

Your mouth flies open before your brain has time to process it all, "Simon says make me cum, p-please, I need to—fuck!"

Izuku's stuffing you full with his fingers in an instant and his thumb returns to its rightful place.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, Pretty?" His hands somehow find the energy to speed up to the point where the clap of his palm against your pussy fills the room, slowly being replaced by a lewd squelch as you tighten around him. He chuckles when all you can do is whimper, grappling for his big shoulders as he says, "Oh, yes she is. So fucking close I can feel it."

You let out a broken moan and in a blink you're squirting, body buzzing as you make a big wet mess of Kota's sheets. It doesn't even register how screwed you two are because you're too busy wading waist-deep in the sea of Izuku's eyes, chest heaving in time with his as he gives you a look of pure awe. Not at what you've done, per se, but at you, and that's when you understand it—the passion.

"We should uh, probably clean up," Izuku flushes as he chuckles, cheeks pressing into the crescents of his face, and you find yourself smiling along with him. With a final click, he pulls his fingers out, gesturing to a circular wet spot on his now see-through shirt. "You made quite a mess."

Fuck the passion.

You shove your fists into his chest and Izuku laughs, pushing your hands away with his one dry free hand, wiping the wet one on Kota's sheets.

"Izuku!" You gasp, looking at the new and improved addition to your mess. The greenette shrugs.

"What? We're going to have to clean it anyway," he shrugs before assuming the dry spot to your right and nestling his forearms in the pillow to peck you on the forehead. Then he freezes.

"I uh...am I allowed to do that?"

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by his squirt-soaked shirt to pull him into a kiss. Izuku hums at that, suppressing the urge to smile as his big hands find their way to your waist. He's an annoyingly good kisser

"No, you're not," you say with swollen lips once you pull away. Izuku grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes flutter to yours for a moment, before they're staring into your soul again.

"I like you," he boldly states, albeit quietly, like he's talking to your eyes and nothing else. "Like, a lot."

"I—" You start, but you're interrupted by a click of a lock and the sound of the front door opening. Shit.

"Oi! We're home, Izuku!"

[equallyshaw]

𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔩. - 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔫𝔫 𝔥𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔢𝔰.

inspired by miss o rodrigos: brutal.

part of the "sour" imagine series.

Sour Masterlist:

Part two: all i want.

warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide indirectly (not named), mental health issues and angst.

word count: 3.5k

slight time jumps, 2018-2020-2022.

—

I'm so insecure, I think

That I'll die before I drink

And I'm so caught up in the news

Of who likes me and who hates you

And I'm so tired that I might

Quit my job, start a new life

And they'd all be so disappointed

'Cause who am I, if not exploited?

—

we broke up right after my 18th, because somebody was scared about what my supposed 'celebrity' status would do to his career. we broke up two weeks before i was awarded the gold medal for figure skating, at the 2018 olympics. he broke up with me because, he could not deal with the attention i got. attention, you say?

as much as i love this life, i hate what comes with it. i was barely 17, when the media turned me into a sexual icon for skating, or was a scapegoat because i came in 2nd at worlds and said that team usa did not have a chance at gold. they were wrong ofcourse, but you don't think i hated it too? i hated people on social media, following our every move. following yours, and sending me pictures + videos of you at parties with girls at your disposal and all up on you. that team usa's golden couple, were not as perfect as people made them out to be? because of my position i am terrified of what people will say, and what my coaches, teammates and managers think. always trying to please people, be the perfect starlit that i needed to be to win.

right before the olympics, and right after you broke up with me, i broke down. and some people will call me a baby because a lot of it was over you but was also, because of the amount of hate i had gotten. the amount of accusations of cheating, and apparently i was 'caught' drinking at a party which made team usa upset or that i went after a team usa hockey player that was not quinn. all untrue, ofcourse. i remember so clearly, thinking about dropping out because my mental health and anxiety were at a all time low and nobody did anything to supress the rumors, you even played along with it liking comments about me being in the wrong. i remember wanting to pull out, and doing a big fuck you to team usa and you, quinn. i wanted to be petty and disappear from the world. completley. it had gotten that bad. my coach shannon though, was one of the first to notice. she noticed how i didn't participate in anything other than what was required of me, and was one of the only people who tried to intervene on my behalf to no luck. team usa, pathetically, only and truly cared about hockey. skating, they could of gave two shits.

but then again, if i quit that would feed into there power. people would reval at the thought of tearing me down and 'winning' because i quit. i didn't want to give them that satisfaction but i didn't want to deal with it. also, the skating world and team usa needed somebody to not only be there scapegoat but somebody they could use to there advantage, not my personal. all they cared about was using me and then dumping me. so quickly, after taking a week off to personally sort out treatment options, i went back out into the plymoth ice and worked my ass off. tweaking parts of my routine, to add extra points and showed off my 'hard' side. something we had never explored before i needed to be soft and pretty. but the comittee, wanted me to win and to overshadow the rumors of why i took that week off. they told me this was it, if i didnt pull off a gold medal.

and i think about to this day, what would of happened if i did pull out of the 2018 games. who would i be now? where would i be? would i be with who i am today?

—

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

If someone tells me one more time

"Enjoy your youth, " I'm gonna cry

And I don't stick up for myself

I'm anxious and nothing can help

And I wish I'd done this before

And I wish people liked me more

—

ever since i had come to plymoth to continue my training at the age of 12 because the skating window was small, i hadn't lived a normal life. even more so, my parents had me homeschooled instead of going to public school with the rest of team usa. they believed that i would achieve more and quicker, if i spent more time in there. i had no friends. my coach shannon being my best friend and closest confidant, made me closed off. i mean i spoke to my teammates but becuase they were older, it was difficult to make that bond but i loved them nevertheless. and that's when you came into the picture. skating me off my feet, at the age of 15. literally. somebody decided to skate backwards during a open skate and bumped into me without realizing. i remember rolling my eyes, getting up and skating off the ice to disappear to the second rink. away from everybody.

you were so curious about me, asking anybody you could to find info about me. again, i didnt really have any friends so you relied on the trainers and coaches to coax information about me. i wish people my age, liked me more. it was so lonely, skating everyday and then going home to do school and then go back to the rink to do some off ice training. people thought i was weird becuase of it, even some of your teammates. it wasn't normal, and then you and some of the others our age, pulled me into a small knit group. where i thought for once, i was normal.

and then the rumors began, and nobody stood up for me. this was before we even started dating. i didn't stick up for myself because i wasnt given the oppurtunity or clearence to do so. i was scared to even walk by a camera when i had to. i tried to hide, and make myself small so i wouldn't be seen. nothing would help, though. and then once we broke up, i finally set the record straight in a instagram post after i won gold.

"to all the doubters, naysayers and drama fanatics- this is for you. i have worked my ass of since i was 12 to get here, through all the upsets, injuries, and extreme isolation as a kid, i have won. i won gold, baby. take that."

—

All I did was try my best

This the kind of thanks I get?

Unrelentlessly upset

They say these are the golden years

But I wish I could disappear

—

and then i wasnt seen until 2020, when the pandemic hit and my training was halted. i was seen on my way out of the training facility in plymouth. my manager said to the media, that my time was not over. that i still had a huge shot of making the 2022 team, despite this set back. i hated having the 'spotlight' back on me. i hated people watching my move again, fearing i would misstep and be looked down upon.

people still felt like i owed them something. people believed that despite me winning gold, i should of cleaner, sharper then what i did on that ice. i remember a rumor swirling around about how you had liked another instagram comment, about my routine and how i was apparently sloppy. does that make you feel good? does it make you upset, that i went to the olympics and you didnt? are you jealous?

god, i could never win with you. after everything, you still want to bring up old shit? shit that neither of us, had ever commented on? after seeing that swirl around on twitter, i shut the world out once again. my amazing boyfriend who was on the 2018 hockey olympic team wanted to reach out on my behalf but i kept telling him no. that you didn't deserve the time of day or energy spent. that he seriously didn't need to drive ten minutes down the road, to make a point. my skating would take care of that.

and then my mom was terrified during quarintine that i wouldn't be able to get a second gold because of not being on the ice. saying that even though i was in my prime, and my golden years, i might not be good enough because of this set back. so as soon as the rink reopened, i spent hours upon hours going over the basics and then moved my way onto the harder stuff that i had never attempted before. but i had moments where i felt like, i wasnt enough. that two of the closest people to me at one time, felt like i wasnt good enough. and i hate that you still have some power over me. that your opinion matters, because it did at one point.

—

I feel like no one wants me

And I hate the way I'm perceived

I only have two real friends

And lately, I'm a nervous wreck

'Cause I love people I don't like

—

even days before leading up the 2022 olympics, i still felt like i was not enough. and even though my boyfriend, from across the sea kept trying to keep my spirits up i was still sad and very lonely. a lot of people think that the olmypics are fun, and that is true, but it's also isolating. im also not the most outgoing or boisterous person to be around, so it made things difficult. yeah, i had friends from other countries that i got to hang with but i also just wanted my boyfriend. besides, shannon my coach- he was my best friend. i wish he was here again, but he was living out his dream in the nhl. now newly, apart of the seattle kraken. (a/n an hour plan ride from vancouver....) he couldn't be here. and then he went to post a picture of us two, and for the first time since we got together in 2019, we were finally public with the world. it was a shock to say the least. i enjoyed five minutes of blissfullness, before all the rumors and comments started to come in. and i know you saw that picture, and grew uncomfortable. im glad it did, because i know you cared more about me than you ever said.

and the days leading up to my final event, i freaked. i was a nervous wreck, thinking i sucked and that i would choke. and people were reaching out, thinking they were calming my nerves but no, it made it worst. and then you sent me a dm on insagram, thinking my number had changed. it was a simple, "go usa! cheering you on from vancouver." and im not gonna sit here and say i didnt appreciate it or love it, i had a tendancy to love people i didn't like becasue im a doormat. i allow people to walk all over me, and then just shut myself out from the world. it's what i do. it's what you do.

—

All I did was try my best

This the kind of thanks I get?

Unrelentlessly upset

—

i didn't win. i did not win the gold, i set out to get. maybe outing our relationship jinxed me? maybe the comments got to me and gave the other skater an edge? no, i couldn't blame it on him. he had done everything right, i just didn't win gold on my own accord. and now people are coming after me saying that i shouldn't have even gone to the olympics. i shouldn't have had the oppurunity to represent usa all these years. after everything i've done for the sport and country, this is how you repay me? so me, winning gold in 2018 doesn't matter? im only being reduced to my 2022, performance? a silver medal? like yeah, i wanted to win gold, but silver i think is still pretty good.

you did too. you messaged me right after the podium saying how phenomominal i was and how much you were rooting for me. even joking that you got some of the canucks team too, despite not being from there home country. and that you were there if i needed somebody to talk to, as friends ofcourse. i thanked you, but didn't go any further. god forbid that got out, and rumors ran wild.

my boyfriend welcomed me with open arms, as i touched down in seattle. i wanted to go there first, before going home to plymouth and seeing my extended friends and family. he was so sweet, and proud. he wanted to show me off every chance he got, which i liked but dreaded at the same time. i knew after the olympics were over, it would take a lot of convinving to get me to be in the public eye again. i hadn't even thought about the next four years and what it might entail. if i wanted to do another olympic run and to finish my career off with another gold.

and then he wanted me to go to the seattle vs vancouver game at home ice, the second week i was with him. i had ofcourse, laid low and kept pushing off the detroit parade/rally of me and another winter athelete's welcome home event like last time. my boyfriend kept saying that the kraken wanted to honor me, since i was thinking about extending my trip and potentially moving here. i mean, him and i had been dating for almost three years. the next logical step was to move in with him, but i wasn't sure i wanted that just yet. i wasn't sure if it was him, i wanted to do it with.

then the night rolled around, and i was being honored with my lovely silver medal. i took a deep breath and stood near the ice, shaking with nerves. i hated these things, again- explortation got old real quick. i walked out, waving my arms in the air and plastered my gold and fake winning smile to the sold out crowd. i could feel the thump of my heart beat in my ears, as i posed for the obvious picture with the captains. as i was walking back to exit the ice, my boyfriend stopped me trying to give me a full on kiss. and i freaked, turning my cheek in time to have him give me a kiss on the cheek. he knew i hated pda, and to do it on this stage- was so very uncalled for. i hated things like this. but then matty beniers who i knew back in plymoth skated up and saved the day. he greeted me with a huge smile, and we hugged. and then will borgen who was also at the 2018 olympics team, skated up as well and hugged me. they marveled at my silver, and congratulated me once again. i then tunred back towards my boyfriend and i gave him a small, flushed smile and turned back to the camera one last time. waving, before walking back off the ice. the seattle kraken gave me one last boisterous cheer, and i turned towards them blushing like a fool. and it was impossible to miss your gaze, from afar. i turned away quickly, and headed off.

later that evening, everything blew up. after a dissapointing loss again the canucks he broke up with me. my boyfriend of three years and friend of four, broke up with me. why? i never got a direct answer. and that night, i got on a red eye back to michigan. again, shutting out the world. i pushed off the parade/rally once again, apologizing to my fellow usa athlete stating that i was going through something personal. once again. they understood, and appreciated the extra time to spend with friends and family.

i was walking through the local coffee shop, and saw the one person i hadn't seen in person for a few years. mrs. hughes. the person that quite honestly, acted more like my mom then my own. she cared more about what i felt, thought and did outside of the rink. whilst, my mom cared more about my accolades and what i needed to work on or fix. the hughes at one point, was my chosen family when we were dating. always there to hang out, advice and a needed laugh. i ordered, and walked over towards and empty table pulling out my laptop to go over some school that needed to be done. being a senior at university of michigan was going to be over soon, and i couldnt be happier. but that didnt last long, when i felt ellen tap my shoulder. i turned in my seat, freaking out before a soft smile appeared on my face. she saw my under eyes that were now chronic from the lack of sleep, she saw the exhaustion plagueing my eyes, the messy hair from not bothering to tame my natural curly hair. she saw i was falling apart, and that everything was becoming to much. it was brutal out here.

she sat with me, and we spoke for three hours. going over the break up between quinn and i, why i left skating for a week, after the 2018 olympics, quinn's draft, me and ryan's relationship, getting back into the public eye, this olympic run, the breakup and now i was here. i was in the present. she gave me advice, comfort and motherly love that i ached for. she told me that quinn wouldn't stop bombarding the family groupchat about my every move at the olympics. he would stay up late to catch my skates or early. nearly missing a morning meeting, but it was worth it since i won silver. ellen told me that i won despite, the color of my medal. and that i should be proud no matter what. opposite of the words my mother chose. ellen said that i shouldn't rush another run, until i was for certain i was ready. i joked that i'd need a hughes by my side for that one and at this point i'd take any one of the three. she laughed, claiming that having some hughes drama might be good luck after all. i mean, i did win a gold medal after what quinn put me through.

she told me that when i was ready, i might reach out to quinn again. as a friend, ofcourse. what did i have to lose? she didn't say it to get us back together, but to mend that brutal breakup between us. that quinn stubbornly, never moved on because he still held out hope for the two of us. i nodded, claiming that i might reach out to him soon.

—

Got a broken ego, broken heart

And God, I don't even know where to start

—

i reached out to you via text after confirming it with your mom, that it was still the same number. after some back and fourth on our break up, i finally was able to make peace with it. i was able to make peace with you, after all these years. and then we got onto face time, and i saw that stupid face of yours. one that brought me back to the good times. and then you asked me about my relationship with ryan and i sat there for a few seconds debating on telling you. but ellen would tell him, if i didn't. i told him that ryan broke up with me after the game, never giving me a clear reason. and now i had to put together a make shift reasoning and mend my broken heart. i didn't know where to start though. i saw that it made you uncomfortable, and i understood why. even though we had broken up, you still had a huge love for me. you still cared about me, and with the rumors throughout the years, you still kept up with me. hanigng onto any sliver of information on me when i kept my profile low. always hoping to see me in michigan when you came home, always hoping that luke would run into me at practice and say something. we did, but it never went past the how are you's and good luck's. you still loved me, in the most stubborn way. and then you suggested sarcastically, that i take a trip out to vancouver once, i had the parade/rally. i caught your eye and smiled. "i mean, what's stopping me?" i innocently asked. you took that sliver of information and ran with it. arranging everything, and coordinating his schedule to accomidate my flight in. in the back of my mind, i discarded the return home flight. knowing full well, that by the time it rolls around- i wouldnt be needing it.

i would be flying in with a broken heart and wouldn't leave simply because, i wouldn't want to. knowing, just knowing that you'd be back in my life in more ways than one. Until you know, you become a traitor once again.

—

i hope you all enjoyed!!! there will be a follow up imagine for this becuase, why not? i can't not now, im too invested in this relationship. please reblog and like!

Tags: @jayda12 @dazeddobson

[dashofmonsters]

Midnight Oceans pt.2

Male Tiefling x Female Reader

It had been three lousy days since you've gone through the portal and into this unknown world. You were completely awestruck the first time you saw everything, Arthok warning you not to gawk but you could hardly help yourself. He was strange alright but not compared to the other odd peoples you met. Everything was new and exciting but your excitement drained quick.

Today you woke in the same room in a tavern run by an old friend of his who owed him several favors.

The large and rather muscular woman with tusks had eyed the both of you with curiosity, plucking at the shirt you had bought Arthok. He gently swatted her hand away and smoothed out the wrinkle she had brought up with a pout.

"Where've ya been Voxis? I haven't seen thread the likes you wear in my life and I've seen many threads," she sneered at him and gave you a scrutinizing glare.

"Calm yourself Kildrae, I'll explain later... Once the lights are lost and the last of your drunken patrons have stepped out," he grounded out.

The woman, Kildrae sighed and nodded reluctantly before pointing to a table far in the back and away from prying eyes. She served the both of you thick stew with rolls and ale. You sipped at the drink, hiding your distaste for the bitter brew. Soggy had taken the shape of the small house cat before entering the establishment and laid next to you, purring up a storm.

After two bowls of stew, three games of cards, witnessing a bar fight, and enjoying a few drunken shanties were you finally starting to tire. There were three sobbing stragglers that Kildrae had to push out when they could not longer hold a tankard in their hands.

She quickly locked the door and barred it before rounding her counter and pulling out a pipe. She knocked it against the wood and refilled it. It's not like the sharp and dry cigarette smoke that would sting your nose, this was a cool herbal note that neither offended nor hurt one's senses.

"Out with it Voxis, you know I don't like surprises," she puffed as she took her seat at the table.

"Then you won't like what I have to say," he crossed his arms and leaned against the table.

"Try me, let's start with the little lady you brought here. Kidnapped, seduced, or stupid?" she tilts her chin up, biting her pipe at you.

Before Arthok could argue you chuckled, "How about no other option?"

Kildrae hummed, "You speak with a strange accent and wear threads I haven't seen before. Where are you from?"

"Far away," Arthok answered.

"No shit and was I asking you?" she glared at him with burning amber eyes.

The tiefling grimaced but silenced all the same. The spot light was on you now ad you had to bring the house down.

"I doubt you'd believe me but I'm from another world," there you said it and now time to look crazy.

The woman groaned and hung her head, "Alright then... so say I believe you for whatever fucked up reason... Tell me why you are here and that it's the only option you have."

You took a deep breath and relayed the lengthy story of how Arthok came to you and how you were now involved with trouble because of Soggy. You removed a couple things from your bag as proof of being from another world and she just nodded. Amazed or terrified, you'd never know.

She sighed heavily and turned again to Arthok, "and you thought it'd be a fantastically wonderful idea to bring her here did you?"

"Kildrae my options are less limited than hers but they're slimming by the day. Oldrek is still holding my ship until I can pay up and round together a decent crew and Nal is being stubborn as ever and refusing to pay for the last three jobs. I'm screwed and out of luck right now and..." Arthok started speaking in another language, his voice straining as he spoke more and more.

Kildrae softened up at whatever he said and agreed to let the both of you stay with her while he figured things out. That was then and now days later you feel your skin crawling with uncertainty.

You roll out of bed and dress yourself in the clothes from this world. Kildrae had given you some coin to purchase new clothes and whatever you might need to be comfortable while you're here. You had grown unusually fond of her in the short amount of time that you had gotten to known her. She's loud and confident and the patrons respect her.

Soggy stretches on the bed and protests when you pick him up and set him aside as you straighten it up.

Today you'll go downstairs and help Kildrae do some prep work and tidy up the tavern for tonight's guests. You open your door at the same time Arthok does. He looks tired and his wrappings have come undone enough for you to see crusted blood.

"It's reopened hasn't it?" it was less of a question and more of an accusation of negligence.

"How much trouble will I be in with you if I told you not to worry about it?" he chuckles then winces.

"We could get Ms. Kildrae to poke it at instead?" you offer with a sly smile.

He groans, "I'll clean up then and await to be wrapped."

"I'll come back up with breakfast. Oh and don't forget Kildrae said someone is coming in to talk to you today about Nal, dude's got some beef with him as well and you'll need the extra muscle given your current condition," you remind him as you trot down the stairs.

You hear his door close as you round the stairs and enter the kitchen. The porridge is pipping hot and smells fantastic. The food Kildrae cooks is good and sticks to your ribs but with all the work you do it never stays.

"Morning little lady," she greets you with a nod, turning from her cutting board.

"Good morning Ms. Kildrae," you smile and grab a couple clean bowls.

"Voxis awake yet?" she asks.

"Yes, but his wound is bleeding out again and he needs his bandages replaced," you sigh.

"Probably from getting kicked in the gut yesterd- oh I'm not supposed to tell you that..." she cringes and apologizes.

"Let me guess, Nal?" you set the bowls back down and lean against the counter. You're buckling in for an explanation whether she or Arthok likes it or not.

"Aye, apparently negotiations went south and Nal started slandering Voxis in public. Being a proud man child that he is, he of course got egged on and had his ass handed to him. He's in no health to be fighting, especially fighting an Orc twice my size," she grits, cutting hard into a chunk of meat almost as if to accentuate her point.

You've heard nothing but bad things about Nal since you've gotten here. He's apparently an ex bounty hunter who posts offers for dangerous and deadly work. Arthok took a few jobs to help pay to get his ship repaired but the Orc has yet to pay him or several others.

Kildrae notices you pondering something and sets her knife down, "What's eating at you now?"

"What are the laws on contract work here? Did Arthok sign anything or was it a verbal agreement when he took the jobs?" you ask.

Her eyes widen and she places a hand on her hip as she leans back against the counter, "Things are done differently where you're from but I get what you're setting down. Most things here are done word for word as one's actions are honored. Nal is anything but honorable, bastard kicked out of his own clan."

"And how is a dishonored agreement handled here? Are there any laws or punishments?" you push the subject, determined to figure out some sort of leverage here.

Kildrae smirks, "Laws here are too loose to hold much meaning and the people tend to uphold their own sense of justice. Don't steal if you think you'll get caught and don't kill unless necessary, punishment for either is always equal to the crime. As for unpaid labor, that's between the party of interest. And Nal has a lot of people interested in seeing him broken and bloodied on the docks."

"That's why Mr. Holgan wants to talk to Arthok?" you sigh. The burley dwarven man from yesterday seemed to hold a high sense of justice and not only felt cheated from his money but felt as if everyone who worked for Nal deserved their long overdue pay.

"He's been gathering a small group of people Nal has wronged. He's got about seven people together who have already agreed to gather more people for a riot against him. Like I said, justice is laid by the people here and he has worn his welcome by many," Kildrae nods her head with satisfaction and returns to work.

You know you've gotten as much as you can out of her and won't press the subject any further. You quickly dole out breakfast for you and Arthok and run back upstairs. You knock on his door to make sure he's dressed and wait for him to answer.

"Took your time," he states, opening the door wide for you.

"Ms. Kildrae and I had a little chat," you set his bowl on his nightstand and yours on the desk by the window. "Next time tell me when you get your ass handed to you, especially when you're still healing."

Arthok groans as he plops down on his bed, cursing and murmuring about something, "You were busy and practically dead tired last night, I didn't want to be a bother."

"You don't have to worry me in order to be a bother," you quip as you pull new bandages from the medical kit you left in his room.

"I know... I'm sorry, not just about me but all this. I'm just glad that I'm able to keep you safe," he stirs his porridge, picking up the spoon and watching as the cereal drips and plops back into the bowl.

"What about you? You keep getting beaten up like nobodies business. How are you keeping yourself safe?" you ask as you sit next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Your question seems to have him completely tongue tied. His eyes stare blankly at his hands and his breathing shudders, "I never... I'm always on the run to stay safe, to stay free. I'm never safe for long, never free from the burden that my family's name brings me."

"Not yet," you add, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "You've been at this for a while, you're family will eventually get tired of throwing money at bounty hunters to reel you back in."

His shoulders sag when he turns to face you, his sky blue eyes seem fogged over and tired as he looks into yours, "I pray that you are right ebrath, and I do not pray often."

Before you can ask him about what he just called you, Soggy pushes the door open all large and in charge. He butts his head against your leg and plops at Arthok's feet.

"Lazy boy," you chuckle.

"Let him enjoy his naps, he'll have work to do soon enough," Arthok sighs and turns his body towards you. "Let's get this over with so we can eat, I'm certain Kildrae will need you down there soon."

You wrap him up with ease, now well practiced from doing this so often. Arthok and you have breakfast together and go over what you discussed with Kildrae earlier. He seems almost shocked that you've taken this much interest in his circumstance with Nal that he seems to be a bit flustered by it.

After you finish up, you leave him to get fully dressed and take the bowls back downstairs. Kildrae has a laundry list of things she needs help with this morning and you eagerly set about to get them done. It's keeps you healthily distracted with having so much to do, you rarely think about home or your actual work.

Arthok eventually makes his way into the tavern, wearing a mix of clothes from this world and yours. He admitted how much more comfortable the clothes you bought him felt and he wore the shirts everyday.

"Make yourself useful until Holgan arrives and help me check my accounts," Kildrae hollers to him.

That makes you perk up. Arthok notices your interest and smiles.

"Very well but I'll need to borrow her. Her real job is to deal with things like this anyways," he shrugs.

Kildrae agrees without the usual argument and you and Arthok go into her office. It's rather large and wonderfully organized with everything in its place.

"Took me nearly a week to clean this place up. I'm just glad she keeps it this way," he chuckles, pulling a book and loose paper off one shelf. "She was piled high in debt, or so she thought. Her late husband was terrible with numbers and left this place a disaster. It took me days to organize her finances and nearly a month to makes heads or tails of what she had to lose. To everyone's surprise, mine included, there were documents proving that taxes had been paid, they were just trying to take advantage of a widow."

You grimace at hearing that. You've heard of people skimming extra for themselves when helping people with their accounts and taking advantage of their ignorance and it always pissed you off. It gave honest people like yourself a bad rep.

He lays out the book and paper and grabs a bag of coins from one of the drawers. Arthok gives you a crash course in currency and how taxes work in this world. You're able to pick it up with ease and when he goes over Kildrae's accounts you manage to point out a couple mistakes. In the end you both go over old dates to double check his and Kildrae's work.

Both made small and few mistakes that were easy to fix. You're surprised by how humble Arthok is when it comes to his flawed math, most people you've helped got all hot and bothered about it but he remains calm.

"I'm impressed," he admits as he looks over the more recent pages, "I was groomed to work with accounts and trade deals but you handle this with more ease and care. You have more of a passion for numbers than you care to show."

"I was a bit of a math nerd in school," you shrug, your cheeks growing warm with such an odd compliment.

He raises a brow and you realize the the term 'nerd' might not be common here or means something else but luckily he doesn't seemed bothered by it and brushes it off.

"I wish this wasn't temporary, I'd need someone like you to help with my finances and possibly to patch up my crew," he grimaces and closes the book.

"Well I'll only be a portal away and we can discuss how you'll pay me then," you joke but realize too little too late that he's taking you seriously. His face lights up with hope and his once fogged over eyes brighten, it makes your stomach reel with guilt.

"You truly mean it?" he hisses as his antlers catch the hanged lights above when he stands. Kildrae marches in and shakes her head at the sight and brings this horrid would be conversation to an abrupt end. You'll have to thank whatever god created tieflings for giving them inconveniencing horns.

You both help him untangle before Kildrae tells him that Holgan and a few others have arrived to discuss Nal. Arthok takes a deep breath and excuses him, giving you a warm smile as he leaves.

"He's sweet on ya little lady," she smirks.

You snort laugh at that, "I doubt."

"And what makes you think so?" she tilts her head.

"He doesn't know me," you grimace, picking up the papers and stacking them neatly.

Kildrae pulls out the chair at her desk and settles down, "In all my time knowing him and mind you that that's a good decade, I have never seen him look at anyone the way he just looked at you."

This felt like the sort of idle chatter friends would have with each other about guys or girls they liked. You had little experience with that seeing how the only guy you dated was apparently 'too good' for you and all your 'friends' said it was your loss when you broke up with him. You like Arthok as far as you could tell, but only as one individual to another, you wouldn't dare fantasize romance on something temporary.

"It doesn't matter," you eventually ground out. "Soon enough I'll be back home and both he and I can put this behind us."

"And what if things don't work out that way?" Kildrae tilts her head up, "Then what?"

"Soggy knows where I need to go, I doubt it'll be a problem," you swallow.

"More doubts, you come off as confident but lack conviction in the things that count it seems," she notes, pulling her pipe from her skirt pocket and knocking the ashes out.

You purse your lips and look towards the door, "I- I uh there are vegetables I need to go chop up."

"Aye, that you do. Check on the boys while you're out there and give them a round of drinks on me. If they can ring their earnings out of Nal they'll be back to spend some here no doubt," she shoos you away as she lights her pipe and begins to hum a shanty when you exit.

You see Arthok and Mr. Holgan surrounded by others who are voicing their grievances over Nal. One of them attempts to grab for your wrist but is quickly stopped by Arthok who addresses you again as ebrath, "All well?"

"Uh yes, Ms. Kildrae asked me to serve you all a round," you try your best to smile while you back away a little bit.

"No doubt on her and hoping it would coax us into spending what we can get out of that miserable oaf," Arthok snorts but the grin he wears is genuine.

Someone makes a terrible and perverse comment about having his drink literally on her and Mr. Holgan slaps him hard against the head and makes him apologize to you for dirtying your ears with such filthy speak.

You can't help but to smile at his gentlemanly behavior, even towards someone who everyone assumes is a tavern wench. You quickly bring out the promised round of ale for the party and complementary snacks that Ms. Kildrae always has set out.

As your setting them down you feel an unfamiliar hand touch the mid of your back. In quick response you turn and practically round house kick the guy. It wasn't the same man as before, this one was the tall lanky elf and he looked both shocked and horrified as blood trickled down his nose. You weren't sorry.

"What in the nine hells was that for wench?" he growled.

You ball up your hands into fists and take a step forward, the elf scrambles back. The men have gone quiet and watch with batted breath, even Arthok. You corner him and step right near the family jewels.

"I am not a fucking wench and you will keep your goddamn hands to yourself. Do I make myself clear?" you look down and sneer.

He nods with a whimper and you stomp off back to the kitchen, the men exhaling with relief that you didn't come after them next. A few making remarks on how hard you kicked him saying he deserved it.

Getting back to your chores you pour all your frustration into chopping a mountain load of vegetables. Ms. Kildrae comes in a little bit later to start assembling the nightly stew.

"You've made it known that you're not one to be messed with, good on ya. Sometimes these dock boys need to be reminded of that. Holgan is too good for this scum town," she notes and you couldn't agree more.

The both of you get into a steady work pace once you've set the vegetable by their respective pots and cauldrons. Kildrae tosses in the meats and vegetables along with her special blend of spices and salts. It wasn't even bubbling yet and the kitchen already smelled like heaven.

"I think I'll miss your kitchen the most when I go back home," you laugh.

"You're always welcome to return if that cat will bring you here," she smiles, sautéing some onions and garlic in a large iron skillet.

The thought alone sounds wonderful but idealistically impossible. You would need to get on with your life when you got home and put this one in a special place in your heart. No one would believe you if you told them where you had been and that's fine. This would be the one thing that would belong to you and no one else on Earth.

It's nearly lunch when the group of men break, Ms. Kildrae had brought them two more rounds and bread and oil to share. Arthok excused himself and meets you in the kitchen.

"How's the discussion going?" you ask.

"Good if you like the idea of getting impaled on a spear by a giant of an Orc," he growls.

"That bad?" you wince.

"My ideas are apparently too cowardly," Arthok grimaces.

"What are they?" you raise a brow.

"Poison arrows. Not enough to kill him but enough to knock him out and tie him up," he shrugs, leaning carefully against the counter.

"That doesn't sound cowardly, it sounds pragmatic. You could put it to them in a way that it would do him more harm since he'd lose to such a cowardly method? I don't know... go behind their backs? Say 'lol you guys are right what was I thinking? Silly old me lets just go bare knuckles at this guy!' and then like not show up to the party and shoot him in the ass with poison darts?" you offer jokingly, and he once again takes you seriously.

"That's..." he pushes himself off the counter and walks towards you. He picks your hand up and kisses your knuckles before leaving. Ms. Kildrae comes in with a grin on her face and teases you till your hot in the face and have to step out to the back to cool off.

You pace around in the back, careful not to run into the chickens as you contemplate your life up unto this point. You're not the adventurous type, nor are you flirtatious or outgoing so what the hell made you drag your ass to a whole different dimension aside from the obvious danger?

"What the actual fuck," you sigh, slumping onto a crate against the fence. You have to admit your life has been the dictionary definition of boring until recently. Your mom always got onto you about needing to get out of your comfort zone and you did just that to the extreme.

Kildrae eventually comes outside with a warm roll as a peace offering, it's oddly effective. "Didn't mean to ruffle your skirts or anything little lady," she crosses her arms as she leans against the fence.

"I know," you bite into the roll and groan. "I feel like I'm giving him false hope... in more ways then one."

"He hasn't had much to hope for in these last few months. What with Nal holding his earnings and his ship stuck on the docks and now bounty hunters... he's been put through the wringer. Whether you think it's false hope or not, you've given him something that's lit a fire under his ass," she takes in a deep breath and smiles down at you, "and something is always better than nothing."

She leaves you with that and the roll she brought you. Soggy saunters outside in full beast form and terrifies the chickens away when he yawns, teeth sharp and bloodied by whatever meat Ms. Kildrae gave him.

"Why me?" you ask the cat, the question obviously rhetorical. He lifts his head up and nods at you, his eyes changing colors like the time he had shown you Arthok's incident with the bounty hunters. "No... Soggy whatever it is you're about to do I need you to-"

You're out like a light, body weightlessly heavy and numb. Your eyes peel open slowly to the sight of your childhood home. Everything is how you remember it, from the two story farmhouse style home with the wide porch you would spend so many summers on to the untamed wild backyard that was fenced off from the rest of the world.

Soggy is at your side in beast form as he slowly strides up to the house. Your mom opens the door and shakes her hide and that's when your jaw drops to the floor. Soggy transforms into an orange cat with a familiar blue collar and bell. A young child version of yourself runs out the house and passed your mom, the cat following you with enthusiasm as he always did.

The picture of your childhood fades leaving you with more questions then answers. Soggy was your childhood cat that your mom always had follow you around. And from the looks of it, your mom knew what he was.

A hand startles you as you jolt awake and you grip at your shirt, breathing hard.

"It's just me!" Arthok pats your shoulder and kneels down next to you, "What happened? You look like someone just drained years off of you."

"Another vision from Soggy," you rub your head and grimace.

"What was it about?" he asks, taking your hand in his. He's got a genuine look of concern that nearly makes your heart stop.

"Where Soggy was before you found him," you swallow. Arthok squeezes your hand in anticipation. "He was my mom's cat... or at least I thought he was just a cat. We called him Afi and-"

Soggy rubs his head against your leg and rumbles loudly as if pleased to hear his old name. "And one day he went missing. I was already moved out of the house and living far away so when my mom told me I didn't think it was strange. Most cats don't live to be over twenty years but he did and I just thought that he...well you know."

Arthok sighs, "Do you need a moment to process this? I understand that this raises more questions and does little to help."

"I'll be fine, for now at least. Can't say I'll be thrilled to have this conversation with my mother but I need to know what's going on here or else it'll eat me up," you toss your head back and groan.

"He must have missed you if he sought you out after all these years," he comments as he stands, hissing in pain from his wound.

"He missed how much I spoiled him," you chuckle.

"You are quite good at it. Gods knows you make me feel spoiled at times," he smiles at you, his eyes glinting like sea glass in the sun.

You pat your knees in an awkward beat and try to think of anything to reroute this conversation back to safe waters. Arthok squeezes your hand again, making you realize that you were still holding hands. Before you can slip from his grasp he pulls you up and gives you a hug.

"I'm going with your idea from earlier. The others will be none the wiser. We're going at it tonight," he whispers to you, his arms shaking.

You shiver at the thought. This land's sense of justice is far from what you've known but it's not like it's new, just brutal. The idea of someone you sort of know buckling up for good old fashion throw down didn't sit well with you but you know you had little say in the matter.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asks, his voice strained.

You nod against his chest.

"I suggested this because I don't want to see anyone else get hurt. I know what Nal is capable of, seen how merciless he is and how dishonorable his actions are," he holds you a little tighter and exhales, "He also terrifies the hells out of me and I don't want to go an inch near him unless it's to retrieve my coin."

"Kicking you in the gut wasn't the only thing he did was it?" you raise your head, his hands dig into the fabric of your shirt.

"There were some punches and he stepped on my hands pretty hard but it's what he said and what he showed me when he dragged me into his shop. He has a damned devil caged and chained up, the beasty was gnawing on the arm of some unlucky victim," Arthok ground out, "If he unleashes that thing here, hundreds of people could die before it's brought down."

"Did you tell them? That they might be walking up to some guy who could sick a devil on them?" you pull away, your eyes wide with horror.

"They didn't believe me or at least thought I was overexaggerating when talking about Nal's little lackey," he sighs, a look of disgust crosses his face.

"Anyway you'd abort mission?" you smile nervously.

Arthok runs his hands from your shoulders, down your arm and to your hands, lifting them and pressing a kiss to both, "It would have been easier to consider without the devil, but that infernal bastard changes everything. If he got out he could get to everyone, including you."

Your stomach churns when his eyes catch yours, heavy with resolve. He sets your hands down, his lips pursing as something nags on his mind, "I wish I could borrow even an ounce of your bravery ebrath, that would be more than enough for tonight."

Before you can speak he bows his head and strides back into the tavern. Your mouth hangs open and you feel your knees give out. Soggy luckily catches you in time and pushes you back to sit on the crate again.

Taking several deep breaths you attempt to calm yourself, eventually you're able to settle your heart back to a steady rhythm and your face feels a lot less heated. You drag yourself up to the water pump and splash your face a couple times for good measure.

This time of day with all the stews on and the bread done baking there's not much for you to do. You've mostly wandered around the market areas with Soggy as your guard and you're considering doing the same today.

Ms. Kildrae regards you when you walk back in but doesn't ask about Arthok being out there either not wanting to push you again or because she didn't know.

"He left a little bit ago to buy supplies for tonight. I loaned him a bit of coin to-"

"Nal has a devil," you blurt. "A real one," you add remembering what Arthok said earlier.

The kitchen goes quiet and Kildrae sets down her knife before wiping her hands off and untying her apron. She grabs her shopping bag off the hook near the stairs and turns to you, "We're going shopping little lady."

~~~~~~~~

The market is busy as ever, stalls packed with different wares from all over this world. People were bargaining and haggling over prices left and right, who had grown accustomed to the commotion but not the crowds.

Kildrae navigates the market with confidence, her head held high and her gaze piercing enough to make people stay far enough out of her way. You're sandwiched between her and Soggy as you make your way to a large burgundy tent with two orcs speaking to each other in their guttural language. Kildrae waves at them and they turn to her with shocked expressions.

"Magbron and Narbruk are my brothers and weapons dealers," she tells you. Her brothers approach her with open arms but she shakes her head and speaks to them in orc and their faces darken, mouths forming sneers and teeth setting till their tusks were fully shown.

One of her brothers stomps off towards the tent, slapping the flap away in rage. The other brother looks to you and Soggy, crossing his arms as if questioning you being there.

"She's capable, Narbruk, that and the cat will listen to her," she reassures her brother who then unfolds.

The other one, Magbron comes out with a large brown bag and a crossbow with bolts that he throws at you. Kildrae snaps at him and he straightens up and quickly apologizes to you. This felt familiar.

"Ever used one of those before?" Kildrae asks as you try to figure out how you should even be holding all this stuff that was tossed at you.

"Never?" you raise a brow, afraid to ask why you'd need to.

"Narbruk will teach you. Mag go find one of the watch, preferably an orc from one of the nine. I need to go buy a few more things and I'll be back, you'll be in good hands here," she turns back to you and nods before striding back into the crowds.

"Ever the boss she is," Magbron groans before following her out. "Don't scare her away Nar," he pats his brother on the arm and runs.

The orc walks up to you and stands with his hands on his hips, "well we best get started. The gods only know if we'll be so lucky to fight a devil and live to tell the tale."

"I hope we're lucky enough to not even have to see it," you grimace.

Narbruk places one of his big hands on your head, "Luck usually never works in one's favor in places like this. Come now, we have work to do."

~~~~~~~~~~

You, Kildrae and her brothers huddle in a alley that faces Nal's shop. His little lackey comes out, stumbling this way and that in a drunken stooper. Soggy who is occupying the alley on the other side lifts his head, eyes glinting in the setting sun, his signal for all is clear.

Magbron races out and grabs the little goblin and tumbles into Soggy's alley. It's a quick and quiet scuffle that ends as soon as it started with the lackey tied, gagged, and knocked out.

Kildrae pats your shoulder and points you into the direction of the shop. You were told earlier to make a scene by throwing stones into the windows to anger Nal in hopes it'll keep him away just a bit longer. You pelt his shop with stones and rocks, some hitting their intended targets but most hitting the windows.

Now was the hard part, hiding in the open. Once Nal sees the damage he'll go down the alleys that open towards his shop and you're in one. Narbruk picks you up and hoists you into his arms, as discussed, and tosses you up enough for you to grab the ledge of the building. You pull yourself up and roll onto your back, screaming internally at yourself for being dragged into this.

I am going to need so much therapy after today.

Sitting up you look around and see the Kildrae, her brothers and Soggy have all placed themselves out of the way. You scan the allies and quickly duck when you see the giant of an orc that is Nal.

He wore the bare minimum of pants and boots, parading around proudly with all his scars and tattoos. Bones and talons decorate his messy dreads and bands of gold accentuate his mean muggin tusks. Pierced in every place possible that you care to see and imagine, this guy was as metal as they can get.

Nal quickly notices the mess that is his shop and practically tears the door off the hinges before searching up and down. After a good few minutes he reemerges, slamming the door hard before looking around and heading down towards the alley you were just in.

You hold your breath as he passes and lay flat on your belly. You make a mental note to yourself to look into splurging on a spa day when you get back to your world.

If I get back to my world...

After a few minutes go by and no Nal in sight does the next stage of this dangerous plan burst into action. Narbruk, in all his size and armor somehow manages to quietly run up to the shop and sneak in. That was your signal to ready yourself and your bolts. You station yourself by the chimney and hold yourself up by your elbows. From here you have the perfect view of his shop.

Holding position you wait for Narbruk's signal, hoping that it's an open hand signaling the lack of the devil. You wait and wait and when you finally see him emerge your heart drops at his closed fist. It's there and by the slicing movement the orc does with his hand at his throat, it's ready to kill.

Narbruk rushes towards the building you're at and climbs the wall and lands on the roof with a heavy thud. He motions for you to follow and you do just that. The orc points to a tall building three blocks away before hoisting you up and jumping to the next building with ease. In no time flat you're facing Kildrae and her other brother, both waiting for the news.

"He's got a damn devil alright, keeping it fed just enough by the looks of it," Narbruk grimaces as he sets you down.

"Fuck!" Magbron pounds his fist against the building.

"We'll have to get to Nal and fast, cut him off somehow before he returns," Kildrae runs a hand through her hair and looks to you. "Like we went over earlier, we'll hold him down while you fire. If Arthok finds us, fill him in."

With that said the group rushes back to Nal's shop, via rooftop and alleyway. You, Narbruk and Soggy jump back to the building you were at, nearly slipping when you see the crowd of rioters Holgan had built up. This was the last thing you wanted to see. They were here earlier than they said they'd be and so was Arthok. You see the tiefling jumping from rooftop to rooftop, clutching at his wound ever so often.

When he reaches the building on the other side of yours, you poke your head out just enough and wave at him. His eyes widen and he stills before shaking his head and jumping over to you.

"What in the nine hells are you doing here?" he hisses.

You lift your crossbow and point back to Soggy and Narbruk, "Stopping Nal before he gets to the shop. If he gets in and unleashes that devil, it's all over."

Arthok shakes his head again, "You shouldn't be here."

"No, you shouldn't be here," you press a hand to his wound and he growls. "Now shut up, sit down and listen. We have a plan."

The tiefling sighs heavily but positions himself next to you as you fill him in per Kildrae's request. You tell him about how the watch is supposed to come by and how you had hoped to catch Nal before the crowd came in.

"And now they're nearly at his doorstep... Nal is-"

"Still out, as far as we can tell. His lackey is bound and gagged so one less to worry about. If possible we need the rioters to surround his shop, make it impossible for him to get in until the watch gets here," you explain.

"I think I can get Holgan to organize that... Anything else?" he slips a shaking hand over yours and you grasp it.

"We'll be fine, a little fucked up afterwards but we'll be alive," you whisper to him and as you pull your hand away you kiss his cheek.

He blinks in surprise before nodding his head with a solid resolve. Arthok runs off then towards the crowd leaving you with a giggling Narbruk. Yeah him and Kildrae are definitely related you think.

You close your eyes and picture your apartment, your favorite restaurant and your childhood home. Five days ago things had been so peaceful. Four days ago things had gotten weird. Three days ago you entered this strange and foreign world. And now, today you're on a rooftop with a crossbow ready to shoot some guy's eye out.

"You ready for all this?" Narbruk taps your shoulder, his voice calm which helps your nerves a little.

"Not really, but what other choice do I have?" you shrug your shoulders.

"Run? Take the next boat out of here?" he raises a brow as if that should have been obvious.

You roll your eyes and check your crossbow, making sure the bolt is secure, "I've already ran once, best not to make it a habit."

Narbruk nods with a solemn smile as if approving of your own resolve, "If the devil gets out then you might want to run."

"No need to tell me," you chuckle nervously.

The crowd nears the shop and you hear the beating on weapons, shields, and boots hitting the ground. Kildrae manages to sound out her signal, a perfect imitation of a bird... Nal is close.

Arthok jumps back up to the building across from yours and jumps over and runs up to the hiding spot, "Holgan and the others will cooperate but only a few believed me when I said that a devil was confirmed in the shop."

"Did Holgan?" you ask.

"Yes, but with all these people he's not so willing to risk unleashing it. The rioters were barely willing to fight Nal, if they knew what else was here they'd already be packed and on to the next town," he grimaces.

As you open your mouth to speak a loud roar echoes over the cries and yells of the crowd. It had come from Kildrae and Magbron's spot. Narbruk stands, silent and still, amber eyes like his sister scanning the surrounding area. He holds out his hand and crouches. "Stay," is all he says before launching himself to the building on the other side.

Your heart stops just thinking about something bad happening to Ms. Kildrae. Arthok squeezes your shoulders and you jump at the contact.

"Go back to the tavern," he turns you to him, forcing you to look into those piercing eyes of his. "Please, go back there."

You grab his hands off your shoulders and sigh, "If Nal is over there, they'll need you. I can't jump like that."

Arthok closes his eyes and grinds his teeth, "Please just-"

"I'm needed here, just incase he gets passed them. You shoot him down first and make sure I don't need to finish him off. I'm just the back up now," you purse your lips as the reality of all this come crashing down onto you.

He nods and starts to pull back but you quickly pull him into a hug.

"You fucking better come back or else I won't be able to sleep when I get back to my world you asshole," you feel the tears stinging but quickly shove them away, there will be time for feelings later.

Whether it was being terrified or overly emotional or whatever you felt driven to do a 'something' as Kildrae put it. You pull back and grab his face, planting your lips on his. You hear him moan his shock but it doesn't last long. He returns the kiss with fervor only breaking at the sound of an explosion in the distance.

"Go," you swat at him and Soggy pushes him up. Arthok turns and takes one last good look at you before he runs off.

You get back into position, watching as the crowd huddles his shop with Holgan shouting orders. Soggy crouches next to you, his shoulders hunched and ready to attack if necessary. A chilling breeze sends a shiver down your spine and you have to set your teeth to stop the chatter.

Tonight is going to be the longest night of your life and it's only just begun.

<Previous Pt. 1

[thingswhatareawesome]

time to do another regular/stellar warp. at 70 pity. cmon, bailu or gepard, pleeeeeeeeeease, please don't be shitty to me stellar warp, please i'm begging

lol fuck me i guess

...it's a light cone. wasted my fucking pity build up for NOT EVEN A FUCKING CHARACTER AT ALL. fucking bullshit stellar warp i fucking HATE this goddamned warp banner, it shits on me EVERY FUCKING TIME.

fucking fuck. and it's clara's lc too, i don't even have her, idek if it's good for anyone i have, might not be (lol it isn't). all that fucking waiting and working to build up the passes and it's probably all for fucking NOTHING.

i'm so fucking frustrated. can't i just have been given a goddamned 5* fucking character??? i have literally only ever gotten characters TWICE off the goddamned stellar warp banner since i started the fucking game. just bronya (my 2nd, i got her off the starter warp) and himeko. that's it. EVER. all the fucking times i've tried, no welt, clara, yanqing, bailu, or gepard. TWO out of 7 fucking characters. and like i didn't get ANY characters at all off the fucking 10-warp. 5* light cone, 4* lc (topaz's, which is worse than useless to me), and just assorted other trash 3* light cones. i might as well have been pulling off a fucking light cone banner, not one that's allegedly for fucking characters.

i am so TIRED of my shitty shitty shitty shitty luck. every time it's like this. ten after ten after ten after ten after ten for what, like near nine months of playing this game? can't i ever get something good from stellar warp? why are you crapping on me like this for this banner, hoyo, why? what more do i have to DO.

great. now i have to spend forever building up another 10 passes, and it'll be at 0 pity bc the bullshit light cone fucked me. awesome. 19 more wastes of time before i get to choose a character, i guess.

[angstyx]

Going on a Road Trip w/ SBI Hcs

Includes: Tommy, Wilbur, Techno, Philza

TW: lots of cursing, shouting

Requested?: [Yes] [No]

Masterlist // Rules for Requesting

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

It’ll take ages to plan the road trip since everyone would want to go to different places

Poor phil, he'll have to deal with all of you, tommy, and wilburs bullshit along with having to be the driver as well

You three would probably bicker about stupid stuff

"Hey wilbur, think about this: if humans breath air yet we can't see it, can fish see air and not be able to see water?"

"Shut the fuck up you child, I’m trying to sleep”

"YOU BITCH YOU DARE CALL ME A CHILD IM 17 YOU IDIOT"

"Technically you're still a child tommy"

"TECHNO HOW DARE YOU JOIN WILBUR’S SIDE”

“Guys stop talking, I need to focus on driving”

"Phil tell Wilbur that I am not a child!"

"Oh fuck off, I'm done with this shit"

Techno, being in the passenger seat, would just stay silent throughout the trip or read a book; only talking to either prove a point, correct someone, or to stop someone from doing something stupid

And by someone I mean tommy

Tommy tried to convince phil multiple times to put the song 'roadtrip' on and turn the volume all the way up along with having all the windows down since it supposedly fit the "scene"

Everyone probably fought for different seats in the car before the trip started

Phil definitely forgot to help figure out who's getting which seat and he totally regreted it because techno and tommy both wanted the passenger seat

"I'm more mature than you, you idiot! I deserve to sit here!"

"Tommy... you just called me a 'idiot' which first of all, is not mature at all and second of all, I'm older. Now move out of the way and get in the back."

"PHIL!!"

Tommy would only sit in the back just so he could vlog with you

The amount of curse words thrown around in the car is tremendous

You wont be able to go 5 minutes before hearing a curse word escape someone mouth

Although it's only 5 people, the car would still feel crowded and it'll feel as if there's at least 10 people inside

Tommy would constantly ask phil to pull over for food every 10 minutes or so

Wilbur would tell tommy to shut up

Techno would either join Wilbur and tell tommy to stay quiet or he'll just stay quiet himself

You, on the other hand, would just probably fall asleep or something, not wanting to be included in Tommy's shenanigans or wilbur's bickering

After your nap (if you are a person to take naps), you, tommy, and wilbur would play some car games

Despite his refusal, tommy would force have techno join as well, much to techno's dismay

"I spy with my little eyes... something green"

"Leaves?"

"Wrong answer Wilbur!"

And because you were so bored, you decided to join in as well

"The grass?"

"Nope! That’s wrong y/n!"

"The tree leaves?"

"I already said that y/n-"

"CORRECT Y/N!! WOOHOO!!"

"... I-I don't want to play anymore"

Tommy, like always, would vlog the trip!

He’ll make sure to bring all the equipment in his bag

He wanted to bring much more equipment but no mater how hard tommy begged, Phil still said no

“HELLOOO VLOG”

“Tommy everyone’s taking a nap right now, just go to sleep”

“But I need my content, Phil!”

“You won’t get any content at all if you don’t go to sleep this instant”

“Awww…”

If Phil got tired with driving, either wilbur or techno would take out so he could rest

Tommy wanted to drive but everyone quickly told him that he was going to crash the car

Let’s just say he didn’t talk to anyone for a while during the trip

If you brought headphones or something to listen to music to, you still won’t be able to hear your music properly since tommy would be talking too loud

“Tommy can you be quiet? I’m trying to listen to music right now!”

“Oh well too bad y/n! CAUSE IT’S VLOG TIME WOOHOO!!”

“….Fuck you, Tommy”

Despite all the chaos, bickering, and fighting throughout the road trip, everyone still had fun

Well mostly everyone, like I said, Phil had to deal with everyone’s bullshit :)

Good luck cause the next time the SBI goes on a road trip with you, it’ll be much more chaotic

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Taglist: @thenotsohottopic @0-0littlem0-0 @alec-lostboy @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @ryxjxnnx @boiciph3r @maxiewritesfanfic @cheesysin @missusstark @multifandomgirl-us @sophia902103 @sunnyxlove @marrymetheonott @voidgonemissing @alec-lost-bee

Send me an ask or dm to be added to my taglist! :)

[stetervault]

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

OR

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

-

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

~~

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

--

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

[thebestmc]

Not a chance

A/N: Thank you for all the support❤️

CW: Techno x reader, High school au, Seniors, typical High school shit. The MC’s actions and mannerisms are based on my own, please understand this is a story where Y/N is really prominent. Switching between first and third person.

master list

<last chapter|next chapter>

“Wow, is that a girl the famous Technoblade can’t get?” Dream cooed putting a hand on Techno. “I can get any girl Dream.” Techno rolled his eyes and pushed Dreams hand off of his shoulder. “Yeah? Let’s make a bet then.”

"What kind of bet?" Techno arched his eyebrow, "I bet you 400$ that you can't make miss Y/N L/N fall in love with you and sleep with you in 2 months." Dream smirked, there was no way Techno would win. "Well, Dream you're setting yourself up because there's no way she won't fall for me." Techno looked so confident, "Well, to make things more interesting, I told Schlatt to pursue her as well. Good luck, Techno." Dream laughed and walked off.

Now that would make things difficult, J Schlatt had been your best friend until freshman year, and everyone knew you were head over heels for him. But you two drifted apart, why? Well, no one knows for sure. Well, now he needs to find you before Schlatt does.

He pushed through the crowd scanning it to find you. A few minutes later he saw you standing next to Schlatt laughing and talking with him. He put on his usual cocky smirk and walked towards the two of you. "Mind if I steal her from you Schlatt." He asked but was caught off guard when you said; "I can answer myself just fine. No, I would not like to speak with you. You could've asked like a normal person but instead you acted like I'm a fucking object that should be shared." you crossed your arms and walked off. "Hey, wait." Techno reached for your arm. "I apologize, it wasn't my intention to make you feel like an object. Please Y/N, I'd like to talk." “Not a chance." You pulled your arm away.

‘God, can’t he take the fucking hint.’ I thought to myself, he’s so infuriating. Why the fuck is he suddenly so interested in talking to me. He’s had 3 years to do that. I just want to punch that fucker in his smug face.

Now. Back on task, where the hell is Audrey. I went searching again, finally I found her. “Hey girlie, how’s the party!” She smiled at me, she’s so kind and welcoming. “It’s...” I debated whether I should tell her about Techno. “It’s great! But I’m getting tired I’m going to go home!” I pulled an excuse out of thin air. “What? No you can’t go!” She whined holding onto my arm. “Let’s play a game!” She got up on a table, “Come on everyone! Spin the bottle!” She shouted.

We ended up in a circle with George, Sapnap, Clay, Luke, Niki, Schlatt, Minx, Audrey, and Techno. “Alright! We all know how to play! Y/n, you go first!” Audrey insisted motioning to the bottle. “Uh, sure why not!” I shrugged and grabbed onto the bottle and spun it. I watched in spin in a circle holding my breathe as I watched it slow down. It landed on...Audrey! My lips touched hers,our eyes shutting as she placed a hand on my cheek. Sap, Schlatt, and Luke cheered us on. We both pulled away, “Bestie! You’re such a good kisser!” She laughed and kissed my cheek quickly. “Okay my turn!” Audrey span the bottle excitedly and watched it land on Clay. Audrey leaned forwards and kissed Clay. It was an extremely fast kiss to Clay’s dismay. “Your turn green man!” Techno pushed Clay playfully. Clay span the bottle and it landed on...me.

Tag list: @zefrenchturtle @losingvienna @lovelysmp

[jimlingss]

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck. 

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes. 

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest. 

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars. 

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot���

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!” 

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken. 

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt. 

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain. 

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!” 

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes. 

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features. 

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!” 

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast. 

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time. 

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long. 

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get. 

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power. 

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe. 

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him! 

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.