#see u fuckers at midnight

[aajjks]

Love Fuckin’ (m)

synopsis. You love feeling him so deep inside you after a nightmare.

rating: 18+ (explicit smut)

warning: expl-cit sex, k—ssing, unpr-tect-d sex, r-ugh sex, m-ssionary, posess-veness, borderline y-ndere gojo, f-ngering, he’s dr-nk, manga sp-ilers, nightm-res, drúnk gôjô.

note. This is for all the Gojo fuckers out here. I love him and I need him and I fucking hate sukuna and GEGE. fuck u both please share your feedback. I love you guys. Enjoy. Also this contains manga spoilers. Reposted.

You wake up in cold sweat.

Gojo was cut in half.

When you look around he’s not by your side, the sweat on your forehead falls down, what if dream is your upcoming reality?

It’s midnight,, there’s thunderstorm, and you’re so fucking lonely and scared— no you’re terrified.

Where is he? “Satoru…”

you curl yourself in bed, your paranoia slowly creeping up, your dream felt so vivid, so real.

Your boyfriend died in the nightmare.

As you think about your vivid dream, you can’t help but cry softly to yourself, you love him so much, he loves you so much.

Gojo’s love makes you feel so alive. You need him. You need him so badly right now. you want to touch him to make sure that he’s OK

God please…

You pray for his safety, goodness you need your boyfriend with you right now. You know he’s the strongest, he can protect himself but you’ll only calm down once he’s in your arms.

“Baby…” your eyes widen in surprise as the door of your bedroom opens and there’s him, a little sloppy with his steps as he comes in.

“Sa-Satoru…” you fall out, taking your blanket off as you see his soaked body. He stares at you with a weird gaze, “ynnnn..” he slurs out.

He’s drunk.

“You are drunk!” You glare at him, your tears now dry, sense of relief washes over you when you see him in his glory. He is okay and that dream of yours was just a stupid nightmare.

Gojo doesn’t reply but he walks over to you, his hair wet, the outline of his muscles showing through his soaked shirt and you feel his strong arms wrap around your body.

“My pretty baby…” he looks at you with his vibrant blue eyes, you glare at him. “Oh you horny fucker no.” You cuss at him.

He’s got that Look in his eyes, you know him like the back of your hand, despite him not saying anything about getting intimate with you yet you can tell he wants you.

Gojo pouts before you watch him kick his pants off, you don’t stop him, soon he’s taking off his clothing.

Getting completely bare.

“you stupid bastard why are you getting naked?”

You tease him acting, angry,

He pushes you towards him, your chest hitting his, and before you say anything else he pulls you into a bruising hot kiss.

His lips meet yours feverishly as he shoves his tongue in your mouth, demanding entrance and you grab his face kissing him back.

Satoru moans into your mouth, grinding his hard erected dick against your clothed thigh. That sends shivers down your spine. “Yn baby let me fuck youuu I need you.” He whines against your mouth.

You know he’s asking for consent, so you nod, and that’s all he needs before he pushes you onto your shared bed

You wait for his next move and he climbs on top of you, and soon he sticks his two large fingers inside you after taking your panties off which were hidden by your night dress.

“o-oh fuck.” You shiver, arching your back. His fingers make you feel so full and the way you clench around them makes Saturo grunt.

“where the fuck were you? I had a nightmare…” you try to surpass the noise that threaten to escape your throat when you tell him about your nightmare, but he’s just so mercilessly fucking you with his fingers.

“Aw baby you had a nightmare?” He asks, his face closer to yours as he buries his head in your neck and starts to kiss your neck, all over.

You moan again, “y-yeah.. I had a dream that you died… you were cut in half..” a tear escapes your eye because of the intensity of the pleasure of his fingers inside you or maybe because of the pain due to the nightmare you had.

but then you hear him laugh as he takes out his fingers right as you cum on them, as you chase your orgasm you’re confused as to why he’s laughing at your misery.

“Baby you taste so amazing… fuck.” He runs his tongue on your arousal on his fingers, licking them clean.

He’s so nasty and so lewd.

“Why the hell are you laughing? I love you and I thought I lost you.” You whine.

He doesn’t say anything, but he kisses you again, hungrily shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

“No one can kill Gojo Saturo… he always be alive baby. Don’t you see me right in front of you?” He peppers, your face in kisses, leaving you breathless with his former kiss.

You’re not sure if he’s being ignorant or.. sympathetic.

Or maybe he’s just telling you the truth.

Gojo looks at you loving his eyes full of love for you, “come on, let me make you feel just how alive I am as I fuck you senseless on my cock.”

And without a warning, he thrusts inside you violently.

And suddenly all the coldness from this rainy night disappears, the heat of his body making your night incredibly hot.

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode eleven :: “REDBULL FANS”

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various drivers x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔musical releases resume and so does the drama.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

ylnestate

♡ liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 18,450,948 more.

ylnestate U&U no. 44 will be released tonight at midnight. ‘Grandstand Girl’ is the 44th mini album by ﹫y/n and features artists like ﹫theweeknd, ﹫justinbieber, and ﹫champagnepapi. All songs (apart from Trust Issues) were produced and written by Y/n in the past couple months as she’s currently working on her biggest record yet, so stay tuned for that 😉⭐️!

tagged: theweeknd, champagnepapi, justinbieber.

1,492,592 comments.

username MOTHER??????

username U&U COMEBACK?????? IM SO.

username OWAHHFKSKKWKDKS

username UNITED THE CANADIANS I SEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥

username U&U MEANS FULL ALBUM ON THE WAYYYYYY THANK YOU MOTHER 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

justinbieber thank you for having me ❤️ love you

username CLAIMING I DONT DO DRUGS

username i’m new here!!! what’s does U&U mean?

→ username u&u stands for undecided and unreleased, y/n usually drops u&u eps right before an album when she has songs that don’t fit the genre/make sense with the rest of the album. they usually consist of 2-6 songs and this one is ep number 44! hope this helped 💗

→ username totally did!!!! thank u bae

username NEW ALBUM ON THE WAY?????????

[liked by y/n]

username oh my god I CAN NOT RIGHT NOW. LOOORD.

theweeknd 💙💜

username drake finally got that feature 🤣

williamsracing UHM EXCITING????

→ mercedesamgf1 you leave OUR girl alone 🤨

→ williamsracing can i be a stan in peace pls

→ username SO REAL

username let me be delulu for a sec. what are the odds that u&u no. 44 is called ‘GRANDSTAND girl’ 🤨 looking at you lewis

→ username wait.

→ username omg the delulu is deluluing

→ username oh yall crazy 😟 (i believe you)

→ username lewishamilton explain yourself.

fernandoalo_oficial slay

→ username WHAT

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→ username NANDO WHAT IS THIS SKDKEK

jensonbutton i already knew abt this yet i’m still surprised

→ y/n u should be used to my bullshit by now 🤨

→ sebastianvettel i know i am lol

→ username “slay” “abt” “lol” who are you folks anymore

→ username no bc like.

→ aussiegrit it’s the y/n effect

→ username MARK WHAT ???????????

lilymhe how dare you

→ lilymhe do it again 🤭

landonorris NEEDED A FIX OF YOU 🗣

→ charles_leclerc NOT JUST A KISS FROM YOU 🗣

→ yukitsunoda0511 I NEEDED MORE 🗣

→ username SPOILERS?????

→ landonorris yes.

username YES?????

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 11,393,159 more.

y/n SEBASTIAN VETTEL PLEASE COME BACK 💔 adopted another papaya fucker and a williams kid ft. fernando rizzlonso and sir lew 🩷

993,593 comments.

y/l/nestate more kids?

username LEWIS 👊🏽 IS SO 👊🏽 HANDSOME 🗣

→ mercedesamgf1 real

username all this content today i feel like a ten year old at a sephora 😍😍😍

username THE ROSCOE STICKER.

→ mercedesamgf1 so cute isn’t he 😍

→ username ADMIND KAKFJSKSK

username lewis graduated from a bank cause that face card can’t decline.

username how does he *just* look like that ????!,!,’ 😭

username FERNANDO RIZZLONSO.

fernandoalo_oficial in slayzuka

→ username IN WHERE????

username YESSSS OSCAR AND LOGAN 🔥🔥🔥🔥

username aRE WE GONNA IGNORE HE COVERING MAX’S FACE WITH A ROSCOE STICKER???

username WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

landonorris new brothers unlocked

→ logansargeant hello brother

→ landonorris hello, i hope you know you’re my step brother bc i don’t share y/n 🙏🏼

→ oscarpiastri what about me?

→ landonorris read the terms and conditions, same rules apply to every adopted kid AFTER lando norris 🫶🏻

→ logansargeant ok

→ username PLS

→ username TERMS AND CONDITIONS 😭😭😭

yukitsunoda0511 why does lewis get the good photos

→ y/n he was literally just standing there and he looked good

→ georgerussell63 not fair u always catch the rest of us off guard

→ y/n i caught him off guard too, maybe he’s not the problem 🤭

→ charles_leclerc I’m-

→ lewishamilton ﹫y/n thank you love 🖤🥰

→ username pls don’t flirt with my gf

→ username she will leave us for u in a heartbeat sir PLS stop 🙏🏽

username casually posts after ep announcement, no one like you, y/n y/l/n.

mercedesamgf1 pls bring lewis and george back, we need you three in the office rn 🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀

→ y/n on our way rn 🏃‍♀️

carlossainz55 you adopted oscar???

→ y/n yeah.

→ carlossainz55 oh.

→ y/n if u have a problem with my son u talk to me 🤨

→ oscarpiastri thanks mum

→ username … is the beef squashed now??

→ username i mean.. i hope

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hello! Love your writing, so yummy. I was wondering if you would take a request? I was thinking what it would be like if Lucifer was dating a fem reader who was a fox sinner and she randomly does animal like things. I think he would be so interested in the ear and tail movement and would try to see what different things cause what reactions. Foxes are very wary so I could see her jumping easily and him taking advantage of that lol 😭. Then, if he would see her like "pounce" on Angel as a prank cause they're besties. Lastly, I just know if he heard her growl, his knees would get weak (imagine them having a growling fight for some reason cause he growled at Alastor that one time 🤣💀). Anyway, I'm dragging this on, so have writing this if you do! I'd appreciate it! *mwah*

A/N— Just when I think the requests can't get any better, another wonderful anon pops up to steal the show. I LOVE THIS so much. This is more or less a small compilation 💅🏻🦋 I had to do a little research for this one, but I think it's so silly 😭💖 I hope you have a wonderful weekend anon!

Animalistic | Lucifer x Fem Fox Sinner!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a common Red Fox Sinner, swearing (I mean, seriously — it's Hazbin 🤣), Reader being a menace to society

Word Count: 696

Summary: More often than not, your animalistic behaviors take over. . .

Lucifer watched you from afar — not in a creepy way, but in a ‘that's my girlfriend and I'm admiring her’ kind of way.

Right then, he was watching you wallow on the couch that had been placed in the lounge specifically for you, by Charlie, because you refused to sit on a piece of furniture that had the scent of the Radio Demon practically rolling off of it in waves. 

So the fucker went and sat on your couch.

The audacity. 

You were pretty pissed at the moment, which was evident by the growling and angry mumbling that became louder at times. 

He only caught a couple pieces of dialogue, like: ‘no fuckin’ respect for BOUNDARIES!’ And: ‘I ought ‘ta shit in that fuckers shoes!’ 

But it was enough to keep him attempting to hold in his laughter, which he ultimately failed in. 

You quit wallowing in attempts to get your scent to return back to the couch the moment you heard a noise. You jumped, one ear twitching while your tail lifted into something resembling a ‘u’ shape, showing you were now on high alert. 

The moment you caught a whiff of your boyfriend, you turned to face him. He was biting his bottom lip so hard to keep from laughing. 

You could only roll your eyes and stand from the couch, fixing your hair as you trotted over to hug him. “Better not be laughing at me.” You whined. 

“Your words, not you. Never you.” He replied, holding you close as you went about rubbing your scent on him as well. Just so no one would get any ideas. 

You were watching. Waiting. 

Your tail was swishing at your side in a playful manner, just waiting for Angel Dust to walk past the dark hallway like he did every evening before bed. 

The moment his footsteps could be heard, you were prepared to launch out of the darkness — something you hadn't done in months. 

He came into your line of sight and it was go time. 

Launching out of the darkness, you easily tackled your best friend, the two of you tumbling until you landed on top, pinning two of his arms to the floor with your sharp canines on display as you grinned down at him. 

“Gotcha!” You cheered happily, your tail swishing from side to side.

“First off, ouch, that fuckin’ hurt — secondly, why the fuck can't you ever attack the short king with your midnight zoomies?”

“He's almost always asleep at this time.” You pouted removing your hands from his arms, nipping at his hand when he went to pet your ears. 

“I dare you to wake him up next time.”

You grinned, getting off completely to help him up. Oh, you would.

Charlie approved of the relationship between you and her dad, but that didn't mean that she didn't witness some odd things whenever he decided to stay for dinner. . .

She could ignore you pouncing on him at random because you pounced on everyone except Alastor. 

She could also ignore him helping you hide snacks for later because she knew that a good snack didn't last long in the hotel. 

But it was harder to ignore you biting, growling, and scratching at Lucifer, laying on your back in his lap on your couch, with him growling playfully and running his fingers through your hair. 

It was cute in a way — her dad embracing the form you were given, and you, eager to play almost constantly. . . Except for when you were nervous or felt threatened by another demon higher on the food chain.

Though one look told her that he had hearts in his eyes. 

And you did too. Even when your sharp teeth finally latched onto his arm and you gently shook your head before releasing and bursting out into a fit of giggles that had Lucifer quit growling, instead leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

He smirked when your ears twitched and eyes crossed at the sign of affection. 

You growled in return, playfully nipping at his hand with a noise somewhere between a very fox scream and a whine. 

But it was all in fun.

[seraphdreams]

NINTENDHOE! — cyber sex collab.

STARRING. stepbro!shinichiro sano / camgirl!reader.

CONTAINS. stepcest, smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, praise, pervy yet smitten shin + eighteen plus only.

WORD COUNT. 1.6k

NOTES. this is a part of @fuwushiguro ‘s cyber sex collab , i hope u enjoy ! i’m so very into this stepbro shinichiro lore.

“Fuck, I missed it..”

Shinichiro looked down at his watch, the numbers displayed to him letting him know it was way past midnight. He had practically spent all day in his shop repairing one of the bikes his best friend, Wakasa, had managed to break down, and if working overnight wasn’t the issue, it was definitely the fact that he missed his favorite camgirl’s stream—You, his adorable stepsister.

He had known you were camming for a while, and if you were to ever find out all the perverse things he’d done when it came to you, he’d know that you’d definitely leave his life completely. And he can’t have that. Horniness aside, Shin loves you more than anything, he wouldn’t dare risk vexing his little sister.

An exasperated sigh is let out from Shinichiro as he switches his kneeled position to standing up fully, hovering over the motorcycle while loosening the buttons of his overalls so that the fabric fell comfortably around his waist. Years of fighting on the side aided Shin in his lean physique, toned arms covered in a thin sheen of sweat as his torso is clad with a white tank top, and a singular silver chain around his neck.

He looks over the bike, making sure he mended all that needed to be done before pressing his foot to the gas and starting up the engine.

Perfect. He was finally done and able to go back home to see you. If he was lucky, he’d even get to watch the replay of your previous livestream—although nothing was better than seeing, and hearing you, live.

Just as he turned his back to make way to the door, he’s greeted with the forgotten sight of another motorcycle. What the fuck? How could it have slipped his mind that he had to maintenance check Wakasa’s other bike before a certain time tomorrow morning? “The shit I do for that fucker.”

Before fatigue could swallow him whole, he seats himself on one of the chairs, pulling out his phone and hovering over the facetime button with your name above it. What type of big brother would he be if he didn’t check in on his sister? He taps the screen and allows it to ring.

“Hello?”

The low tone of your voice instantly eases the stress in Shinichiro’s body, feeling as if he’d just taken the strongest dose of any painkiller.

You searched for a place to set your phone down so that he could see your face, and you settled for the dresser. You pace backwards a bit, making sure your whole body fits into the frame of the camera as you waved with an endearing smile.

“Hey,” Shinichiro starts. “Just lettin’ you know I’m gonna be stuck at the shop for a little.. Do you need anything?” He takes in your appearance as you shake your head, the little white towel wrapped around your chest and tautly hugged the plush of your thighs egging on his confusion, much more—His arousal. “Whatcha up to? You’re all covered up.” He smiles, turning his head to look away, his charming side profile filling your screen.

“Was just in the shower, that’s all.” Your response urged a chuckle from him. That’s all? It’s adorable how you manage to still be so innocent for him as if your fingers weren’t lodged deep in your cunt for your followers to see just 15 minutes before.

Shinichiro takes the pack of cigarettes from his overall pocket, taking one out and lighting it. He makes sure to hold it between his teeth after one slow drag.

“You’d better get dressed then.” He doesn’t miss the way you reach over for your phone as if you were about to hang up, catching you before you get too far. “You can change on the phone. I’ll close my eyes—Won’t look at all.”

He does as he promises, closing his eyes to gain your trust and once you feel as though he means it, you drop your towel, completely bare for him. You turn away in search of your moisturizer, squeezing some out on your palm and working it gently onto your skin. Within minutes you forget that Shinichiro is still on the phone, his promise broken unbeknownst to you as the cigarette barely hangs from his mouth, his eyes on your body as you knead your tits.

It’s a mindless behavior when you bend over to apply lotion to your legs, Shinichiro having to stop himself from thinking—or doing, anything rash.

But the devil on his shoulder gets the best of him and he’s slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons of his bottoms, his hand dipping under the band of his briefs to whip out his cock. How long has he been hard? It wouldn’t matter anyway with the way it leaks and beads down the shaft. He wraps his hand around the base, slowly stroking as he watches how you run your hands over your body a second time, much slower than the first.

You have to be teasing, allowing your hands to massage every inch of your body while you try and find something to throw on. You’re bent over in front of your dresser, a peek of your pussy exhibited for your big brother.

The cigarette that was languidly hanging from his lips fell beside him on the ground, effectively putting itself out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why were you like this?

The stroking pace of his rigid length gradually quickens, the only thought surging through his corrupt mind being the image of you riding his face, whining out for your big brother to slow down as you would continually make a mess of it while he’d take care of you in just the way you need. He knew you felt stagnant when it came to camming. He could see it in those once sparkling eyes of yours that you wanted more. You didn’t need a piece of silicone, and your fingers could barely go in deep enough—You needed him, your big brother.

Caught up in his thoughts, Shin inadvertently lets a few groans slip, his nose scrunched in pleasure and head rolled back as his adams apple bobbed with every profanity growled under his breath. “Fuck, Y/N.. Y’don’t know what you do to me.”

The slick noises emitted from your phone’s speaker turn your attention back to him. Is he…?

In any case, you’d be revolted, yet you can’t find it in yourself to harness that feeling, instead growing aroused at how pretty Shinichiro looked while pleasuring himself. You sat back on your bed mesmerized and your mind wandered to multiple different scenarios with your big brother placed at the forefront. What it would be like to kiss him, maybe get on your knees for him. How he’d look hovering above you with his chain dangling in your face while he’s balls deep in your cunt, the girth of his cock causing him to hit every spot so effortlessly. Before you knew it, your own hands found their way back to your sensitive heat.

If it weren’t for the whimpers you let out while pleasuring your clit, Shin would’ve forgotten he was on the phone. Your choked up mewls snap his focus back to you with your legs spread in front of the camera and free hand pinching your pert nipples.

Am I fucking dreaming? He thinks to himself, eyes gone wide comically while he studies you just as he would when watching your nightly streams. Instead your expression is different. It’s not the same glazed-over emotionless pout that fools in your comments would mistake for genuine satisfaction. It was different, eyes squeezed shut with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and sweet moans he had never heard before flowing through his ears.

“N-Need you so bad, Shin.” Mindless babbles left your lips, the sentence that your smitten big brother had been waiting to hear. If only you knew how bad he needed you; How no other girl seemed to satiate his everlasting lust like you do. You’re an angel—His angel.

Just watching you causes his hand to involuntarily continue stroking his cock, this time at the same pace as the fingers that dip in and out of your sweet cunt. He squeezes the tautly at the tip, imagining it’s your heat that’s getting him off, the satisfying drag of the warmth of his little sister pulling him closer to the edge with how good she feels.

You feel as though your senses are heightened with the way he watches you, your fingers slowing down in pace as you feel your orgasm build up prematurely. “Keep—Keep going, just like that, pretty..” Shin rasps under his breath, eyes lidded at the sight of you as if he took notice of your faltering pace. “Almost there, baby. Keep going for me.”

Your heart flutters immensely with no sign of ever ending, his utterances fueling you to pump your fingers harder inside you. Just moments after, you’re releasing, moaning softly while riding out your high.

Unexpectedly at the sight of your pretty orgasm, Shin paints his hand in the creamy white of his seed, holding his cock at the base while resting against his chair, chest heaving as if he were in a marathon. “S-Shin-nii..” Your soft voice calls out. His attention is placed back on you, a lazy grin on his features. “Hm?”

“You’re so hot.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end of the line from him. “Oh lil’ sis, you’re hotter.” His shifting comes to an end. “‘m gonna, uh, clean up my little mess and get back to work..”

You nod your head as he talks.

“Maybe I can be in your stream tomorrow night?”

reblogs, likes n comments r greatly appreciated !

[eeeeuuughggg]

How do u feel abt Larry headcanons? I loved your sal hcs

larry johnson hcs

note: ok,, i'm so happy i'm starting to get asks ‼️

it's no secret that's he's a massive stoner. he smells kind of similar to sal except the weed smell is a LOT more potent and he probably uses axe body spray...

his first bong was probably a gatey. mainly uses blunts for when he's have a long smoke sesh - cus after all, they do take longer to burn and taste better cus they're a mix.

most dates r typically smoke sessions or he'd definitely take you to an abandoned place to tag your names or initials.

omg omg ok when he's high he DEFINITELY goes and raids the nearest 7/11. he always wants donuts and he will ravage that shit like it's the last donut on earth and he's fighting to have it😭

we all know he's a bit lanky, but he wins pretty much every fight he's in. he's kind of feral. he throws a mean ass punch bro

he has a loud ass stereo in his room and BLASTS music w it. like room shaking, ears ringing, eyes vibrating typa blasting...

he gets suspended sm. like, suspended so much it's a miracle that he hasn't been failed a year level due to his attendance.

none of the teachers really care too much about his smoking, they don't get paid enough to give a shit anyways.

i'm kind of conflicted trying to decide between whether he's an ass or tits man. regardless of gender, he loves all parts of ya regardless tbh.

oh my god, he totally watches midnight gospel when he's high. he's like "yeaaa man,, this shits deeeep"

he fucking loves piercings. no doubt. has an eyebrow piercing and a tongue piercing. was so sad when he found out he couldn't smoke for a bit until his tongue piercing healed. (he did it anyway and just used the antiseptic spray after his sessions)

he watches band documentaries like they're the most sacred thing on earth. has a whole youtube playlist for them with literally every band he likes. he's not a big fan on documentaries, obviously, but music ones are just different.

goes to kmart and prints out the worst pictures of his friends to glue into his locker and not so subtly point them out to his friends.

he collects cool looking lighters. mainly bic but he has a few zippo ones. he thinks the funky patterns are rad as fuck and just has a little container full of lighters under his bed.

he has like 7 half drunk water bottles on his nightstand and they grow by the day. nah they grow by the week, mans is obviously the most dehydrated fucker you'll ever meet.

majority of his wardrobe are dirty ass stained band shirts and baggy jeans. notable mentions are studded belts and crusty ass socks with combat boots and converse.

when it's winter, you will NOT see this man without a beanie. they're a must have. he jus gets a little chilly

if you gave him a friendship bracelet or something, he will NEVER EVER take that shit off. he treasures it like it gives him superpowers or some shit

he probably spits a little when he talks 😭

yuck it's still kind of short sorry but i do hope you enjoyed this, anon !! 🙏

[lsargeantsgirl]

Style

pairing: logan sargeant x russell!reader; george russell x sister!reader

word count: 606

summary: your annoying brother, george, lies to your mom so you sneak out to your secret boyfriend who is also george's best friend, logan.

based on 'style' by taylor swift

---

midnight

"why do you always take his side?" you yelled at your mom as she defended your brother.

"he said that you broke the urn."

"he lied. open your eyes and see that i didn't break it!"

your brother had told your mom that you had broken the urn that held the ashes of your great-great-grandma. he was the one who had broken it when his friends from school were over.

"y/n, don't you dare speak to me like that. you're grounded, give me your keys. go to your room."

you turned around a grabbed your keys and threw them at your brother.

"you happy? all you wanted was my car so you just had to get me in trouble. you should be proud of yourself," after saying that you ran up to your room.

you come and pick me up, no headlights

you pulled out your phone and texted your secret boyfriend, logan. yes, he was your brother's best friend but neither of you cared.

texts (are in bold)

you- logie, can you come pick me up?

logan- yeah, like usual?

you- yeah, txt when u get here.

texts end

you fell back onto your bed as tears started falling from your eyes. flipping, a sob racked your frame. your brother, even though he was the favorite, had always tried to take the thing that you liked or always used. once he spun up a story that you had 'hit' him and he got your sweet sixteen party cancelled. explaining that to your friends was so humiliating.

logan- i'm here

you got off your bed, silently opened your window, grabbed the rope you kept on the tree. the rope was fastened to a sturdy part of the tree. you secured your grip on the rope and stepped off the edge as you brought your feet up. the rope would swing you as a pendulum until it stopped. you dropped to the ground.

you snuck through the gate to the backyard and around the neighbors car. logan, as predicted, was parked behind your neighbor's car that was at the curb.

"hey, babe, are you okay?" logan asked once he could see the tear trails down your face.

long drive

"i'm okay, just drive please," you said as you sniffled.

he pulled out from the curb and took you to the place that brought you the most peace. it was a secluded area on the river nene. he leads you to the bench overlooking the river.

"no matter what, i love you," he whispered as he tucked you under his arm.

"i love you too logiebear,"

"now tell me what made you cry."

"you know," you started, "george being mom and dad's favorite."

"what did he do?"

"broke mom's urn that had her great grandma in it"

"wow, that fucker, and he blamed that on you?"

"yeah"

logan turned to face you. he moved you to be as close as you could to him.

"no matter what he does, what he says, i will love you for the rest of my life. i want to grow old with you, have children with you," he wiped the tears, you smiled. "i only want you in this world."

he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small box. "i know we're not ready but this is like a promise ring but a necklace."

"baby," you breathed.

"i promise to marry you one day, as long as you let me," he said as he put it around your neck.

"logan, i want to marry you too," you whispered.

"good." he says as he, gently but passionately, kisses you.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 23

PREVIOUS

There were a few reasons that Andrew and Neil could not get past reception to go see FF or get updates on his current condition.

The first reason was that visiting hours were long over by the time they had arrived a little after midnight.

The second reason was that hospitals, in general, don’t just give out information on their patients to any random person that walks in and asks for an update on their condition. They are ESPECIALLY hesitant to give out updates on patients when the people who are asking can’t give you anything other than a first name, general description, and the reason that the patient is in the hospital.

Somehow “Completely average looking guy with the last name Smith who was stabbed in the stomach” is not enough for the receptionist to go off of.

“There are multiple people here that fit that description. I would need at least a first and last name before I could even begin to start seeing if you were someone who we even could give updates to. No, I will not continue to play your fun little game of guess the first name.” She says when Andrew opens his mouth to start listing off names alphabetically again.

So now Andrew and Neil found themselves under the watchful eye of a security guard as they sat in the back corner of the front reception area.

“I can’t believe we still don’t know what Smith’s first name is.” Neil says his face is buried in his hands as he and Andrew sit in the uncomfortable chairs trying to figure out where to go from here.

“I think she knows exactly who we want to see.” Andrew scowls towards the receptionist who, long used to the ire of the public, pays him no mind. Andrew just refused to believe that there were that many brown haired, brown eyed, average height and weight guys who had suffered a stab wound to the stomach that would have been admitted in the last two hours.

“I just hope they actually are looking after him and that no one went and forgot about him in an hallway somewhere.” Neil says hands sliding up into his hair to grip.

“That wouldn’t happen.” Andrew dismisses despite knowing that Wymack had ABSOLUTELY forgotten FF at a stadium once during the period where FF had been low presence to keep his family from bothering him.

The U-turn he had pulled had definitely been illegal when FF called and asked where the bus was when they had been on the road for five minutes. Wymack had felt terrible about it but FF had just seemed relieved that the bus had come back for him.

Wymack.

Andrew pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number. Wymack, reliable as always, picks up on the fourth ring with the sound of cursing as he got the phone up to his ear. “What.” He asks and Andrew can hear the sounds of driving and Kevin’s infamously train-like snoring in the background.

“What’s Smith first name. You know it.” Andrew demands.

“Classified.” Wymack clips back immediately.

“I need to know it so that we can get updates.” Andrew hisses.

“He isn’t interested in people knowing it and you wouldn’t be able to get updates anyways.” Wymack dismisses.

“We want to be able to head back to see him.” Neil tries.

“Visiting hours are long over Josten. You know that I’m not settling that bet that you little fuckers have floating around about this.” Wymack responds back.

Andrew grits his teeth and then forces himself to relax his jaw, “It’s not about the bet.” Andrew shuts his eyes in irritation.

That stupid bet.

The betting culture within the Palmetto State Foxes Exy team that Reynold’s had cultivated held strong even after her graduation with the remaining Foxes. The Bet had started when one of the other freshmen had mentioned that it was funny that FF went around like Cher or Madonna. The realization that none of them knew FF’s first name was one that had them placing bets on a multitude of things. Things like: “Do you wanna bet it’s a super normal boring name?”, “Do you wanna bet that it’s a weird foreign name?”, and “Is FF intentionally not giving it out to people or since he goes by his last name normally he has no idea that anything is amiss?” Had lower pools since you were betting on a spectrum. The bet with the highest pool is: “What is FF’s first name”.

Wymack had categorically refused to answer it and all other attempts to discover FF’s first name had been met with frustration. There was a solemn agreement that no one could just go and outright ask him since that would ruin all of the fun. Andrew had agreed to not ask when the team had collectively filled his freezer with ice cream cake and he was a man of his word.

The general belief (after the revelation of his major and the number of languages FF spoke) was that FF’s name was just not easy to pronounce for English speakers.

Andrew hadn’t participated but he know that the Foxes do have a running list of names they know it’s not. (Greg, Will, Smith (again), Matt, Kevin, Neil, Andrew, Aaron, Nathaniel, Jack, Beyonce (Sheena’s drunken guess), Nicholas, John, Fred, Garfield, Frank, Alfred, Augustus, Adam, etc. (Andrew had been trying to guess with the receptionist for a while))

“You’re coming here aren’t you? We can get updates when you get them.” Neil says.

“He’s in emergency surgery right now and will remain there for the next few hours most likely. There’s not going to be any updates hopefully.” Wymack says with a sigh loud enough that they can hear it over Kevin’s snoring.

“Surgery? He needs surgery?” Neil asks sounding surprised s if FF hadn’t been stabbed to the hilt into his stomach with one of Andrew’s knives. He’s about to give Neil some shit for the question before remembering that if there was any person who would think that a stab wound to the stomach wouldn’t necessitate surgery it would be Neil “I’m Fine” Josten.

“Yes Josten, he needs surgery. They have to stitch up his stomach and the surgeons are also going to be dealing with some of the ulcers that were ruptured by the knife.” Wymack explains likely coming to the same conclusion that Andrew had on Neil’s stupid question. “They were a bit worried about him bleeding out but he stabilized before the surgery.” Wymack sighs.

“I’m going the hospital since I’m Smith’s medical proxy. If anything goes wrong with the surgery I want to be there so I can make an informed decision on his care.” Wymack says and… Andrew figured there’d be surgery but to hear it and the possibility that something could go wrong, that the last thing FF had said to him had been something non-sensical about “Gracie Hart wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. I’m Cheryl at best.”as he’d started succumbing to all the blood loss. “If you could stick around long enough for me to drop Kevin off with you I would appreciate it.” Wymack says.

“What if he needs a blood transfusion?” Andrew says.

“Smith is AB-, it’s the second easiest blood type to transfuse into. Go home Andrew.” Wymack repeats.

Andrew works his jaw irritated that there didn’t seem to be a path to getting his way.

“We’ll stay here until you get here.” Andrew agrees, “But you’ll get an update before we leave.” He adds.

Wymack sighs, “Fair enough.” He says before hanging up.

It’s 45 minutes of waiting and tossing a few more name possibilities at the receptionist who seems more amused than anything at their continued attempts to guess their friend’s first name (Neil goes through the entire list of names that he’s gone by and none of them get the thumbs up).

Wymack comes through the doors with a half awake Kevin Day following his steps. “I have another favor to ask you.” Wymack says instead of any form of greeting.

“I’m not going to leave Kevin in the car overnight again. It was just that one time.” Andrew says with a roll of his eyes and honestly he’d been punished enough listening to Kevin bitch, moan, and sneeze for the following week while talking about all the supplements he was taking.

“Not that,” Wymack pauses, “I have two favors to ask you. First don’t do that. Second, would you be able to pick up Smith’s grandma from the airport tomorrow?” He asks.

Andrew blinks.

“She’s coming here?” He asks.

“I updated her on my way here. She booked a flight and will be arriving around noon tomorrow.” Wymack says and Andrew doesn’t know why he’s confused by this. FF’s grandma got him two still warm pies to cheer him up on Thanksgiving.

He’d stabbed that woman’s grandson.

“I’ll pick her up.” He agrees.

Shorter one today

NEXT

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees  @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[hvstias]

very very random valorant headcanons part ?? but im tired so this one might be a lil ooc

u can see wingman wandering around the hq without gekko sometimes, pretty much everyone got used to it but deadlock still doesn't like being around his buddies so she kinda freaked out when she saw him in the kitchen at 3 am for the first time lmao

chamber and cypher unironically watch football matches like those dads together

fade is actually color blind but only cypher and neon know it (cypher took a wild guess and neon found out after fade said some shit like i like ur purple shirt very tiredly and she was like?? WDYM PURPLE)

viper can cook pretty well but lives off those mexican & chinese take outs when she's not in hq and sage is very very concerned about it

skye found out abt some of those secret couples before brim removed the no fraternization rule only because she wakes up at 4 am for her morning runs and those idiots CONVENIENTLY always sneak out at that time ijbol

harbor is a wife material. could be a grown ass man with powers but he is also a babygirl AND wife material

younger agents once tried to convince omen that he's actually an octopus and viper did not find it funny

deadlock and breach have their own scheduled movie nights but those fuckers only watch slasher and horror movies (inspired by a fanart but i cant find it 😭)

neon and jett occasionally steal phoenix and yoru's jackets for shit and giggles

reyna visits her sister after every mission

phoenix has no alcohol tolerance and thats how jett and yoru managed to make a whole FOLDER full of his drunk shenanigans

kj bought raze a matching beanie for her birthday and she keeps it in her room so it doesnt get accidentally destroyed by her explosives

brim has really fucked up old man knees

phoenix and yoru will exchange ‘your mom’ jokes when when they're too tired to continue their usual banter after rough missions

sova unintentionally does thee the dad clap and its loud as fuck he could literally wake up a dying man with that

kay/o and omen occasionally try to act like humans and its hilarious

u can find astra in the kitchen at midnight because my girl is a nightowl and cooks when she's bored

jett can watch any kind of horror & sci-fi movies without flinching but NOT zombies. she came across a freaky clip of the walking dead when she was a kid once and is still traumatized

gekko is a comic nerd, no i will not elaborate

[mrs-monaghan]

everyone who don't ship jkk believe this. jhope was jm biggest supporter during face era

https://twitter.com/Holapark13/status/1706382181390749762

First I had to reply to that fucker

Second, yes. Jhope did support Jimin big time. That's his bff. But Jhope supported ALL the members. He said that was his mission. To be there for all of them if he could. And if he wasn't serving he would have showed up for V too. My Vhope 🥰🥰🥰😍

Anyway, yeah..I blame no one who thinks Jhope showed the most support. Simply because seeing is believing, and if you don think Jikook are a couple, you're not exactly investing time in doing your homework here. So yeah, none shippers think Jhope supported Jimin the most. And that's fine.

I hold nothing against those people. The ones that irk me *cough PJMs*cough* are the ones who say JK did fuck all for Jimin. Like, now that's just blatant bullshit. Its hating and its a big big big lie they keep telling themselves because they hate JK. They keep saying anything he did for Jimin was fanservice. Like they would rather go with the tkk narrative than admit JK supported Jimin.

Even though unlike Jhope who showed up for all members, JK has been very biased in his support. Sure he sang one or 2 rapline songs. But the effort, the time and energy he has spent on FACE is fucking unmatched. ❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗

This dude literally told us to stay up for the SMF teaser. He was like: y'all better not go to bed before midnight. You stay up and u watch that teaser drop. Like........ what?!?

Haters gonna hate, ig. But Armys really, really need to do their research on the true definition of fan service. Coz what they think aint it.

Jungkook has a bias. Whether you like it or not. And he hasn't made any effort to hide who his bias is

[caffeinetheif]

brothers and/or dateables w/ a ride or die s/c

walmart at 2 am? down. declared the sky is purple? ofc it is what other color could it possibly be man. hit and run? got the Clorox wipes and mechanic on standby

aaaaaa I'm so sorry for the radio silence! Last week was very chaotic lol. This coming week (3/13-3/17) is spring break for me, but I'm working 40 hours so idk how much I'll be active :((.

I had fun writing such a light hearted request, thank u bb.

The Brothers With a Ride or Die MC GN! MC Content Warnings: Mentions of doxing in Levi's, mentions of a creep DMing in Asmo's

Lucifer

Lucifer would be so stressed because of a ride or die MC lol. You're giving him even more grey hairs than he needs. He does appreciate all that you do for him, he just wishes you'd take it down a notch.

He could easily tell his brothers to do something like go get dish soap because it's almost out, but you're already out the door with like four different soap brands on the list.

It gives him an extra reason to spoil you though

Mammon

It's basically a ride or die x ride or die in all honesty. A competition to see who can be the most ride or die, if you will.

He forgets to do a project for class until the night before? You're there helping him. You forget a textbook back at the HoL? Don't worry, he's sprinting back to go get it for you.

He accidentally breaks something? You're getting rid of the evidence and already have a duplicate on stand by (how you do it, Mammon will never know).

Leviathan

I feel that Levi would be more of the ride or die in this relationship, but for the sake of the request, you are. Is he in the middle of a gaming marathon? You keep a supply of water and snacks for him. You make sure he actually eats a full meal, too.

He talks about a new multiplayer game? You buy a copy for yourself to practice playing so you can keep up with him.

He want's to dox someone who dissed Ruri-chan? You're already digging for clues

Satan

Satan mentions a new spell book he found? You're the first to volunteer to be a guinea pig for some of the spells. He appreciates the sentiment, but he'd rather not test questionable spells on is lover

He mentions that he needs to organize his books? You're pulling out a pen and paper to create organization categories and schematics (it'll probably go Year, Subject, Author's last name or something similar).

He'll make you tea as a thank you, but he doesn't notice he used a tea that you snuck into his stash as a surprise.

Asmodeus

Another ride or die x ride or die. This time, instead of trying to out do one another, y'all just feed off of eachother's energy.

You're Asmo's hype person. He'll take you shopping with him and try on outfits. You're there with a camera practically like the paparazzi, taking pictures from all angles for every outfit he tries. He does the same for you. There's a 9/10 chance the two of you will leave with matching outfits.

Asmo mentions that some creep is bothering him on Devilgram? You're finding the fucker and giving that demon some very concerning threats.

Beelzebub

We all know how Beel gets with is food. If he texts you that he's hungry, you're on standby with his favorite snacks. Even during class, you'll leave to do a quick drop off for him

Midnight muchies? Take him to the nearest fast food joint and get him two of everything. He appreciates your eagerness to please, but he worries about your spending habits because of him (sweet boy)

He'll share his food with you as a thank you and offer to pay you back for the money you've spent on him. If you tell him that you don't mind, he'll find a way to repay you.

Belphegor

You're able to pick up on some of his smallest ques and you know what to do to help out. He really does appreciate how you're able to pick up on when his social battery is low and get him out of the situation.

He's notorious for skipping class even though he somehow miraculously passes his classes. Still, you bring him your notes and even send him an audio recording of the lectures you share together, even though it takes up so much space on your DDD.

If you notice he has fallen asleep somewhere that isn't his room or your room, you carry a blanket just for him. You drape it over him as he sleeps and just vibe next to him until he wakes up.

[elderwisp]

Oooh.. OC Asks you say??? Don't mind if I do!! How many can I ask for at once? I'm feeling nosy 😅 Can I get: Betrayal -> "Unnamed" 👀 And if you're up for more... Mistake -> Atlas Desire -> Frances Alone -> Icarus Midnight -> Kai Skin -> Taryn

HWHEHEE YES!

Betrayal for Unnamed: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

⌾⃝ OMG this one is so good SO GOOD U DON'T UNDERSTAND- ok SO! Yes, Unnamed is ultimately betrayed by Atlas. I would say Unnamed is very much a do whatever the fuck you want kinda guy but if there's one thing he asks you to not do, it's for good reason. There was one thing, one thing, he asked Atlas not to do and what does this fucker do? The thing that in the end brings their relationship to a close. HOWEVER, he's also a bit of a hypocrite because he also betrays Atlas in a different way but this doesn't end their relationship. Their relationship is quite volatile and once Atlas comes to this understanding, he still gravitates towards Unnamed until Atlas fucks up. Bad.

Mistake for Atlas: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

☾ So piggybacking on the previous ask, Atlas makes a huge mistake with Unnamed when he was seventeen. While he was already in some deep shit around that time, all self-inflicted of course, it ends up backfiring on him and affecting the one important person in his life. Which is honestly the last thing Atlas wants to do because at the end of the day, he knows what it's like to hurt so he doesn't want to inflict it on others. It's a huge reason why he lies to people because if it hurts less, then good. OK OFF TRACK so he's still figuring out how to fix it but sometimes you can't turn the clock backwards so he has to eventually come to terms with it.

Desire for Frances: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

𖦹 BOOF! Stability for sure! Frances feels like life has always been unstable with them and it started the day she and her brother were put up for adoption. While she doesn't remember too much of it, it was an early memory and did set a tone for her life. She is incredibly grateful for Elliot and Toni for taking them in but things started to go out of whack in high school and after certain events, she made herself a few promises: Not to rely on her parents and to do anything to stabilize. She's quite open about it, her friends attempt to help her out, especially in the beginning because Frances will do anything to meet that goal. In school, she made sure to take all of the accelerated classes and secure a scholarship. In college, before working for Icarus, they did so many odd jobs. I would say the one misstep Frances took was she got so tired of her dorm roommate, she moved out on her own and that was what put her in a financial pinch which is when we meet her.

Alone for Icarus: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

◍ Being alone is the one time Icarus can truly be himself. It's the moment when he can unclench the jaw, lower the shoulders and unwind. He's not uncomfortable with being alone, when his parents died, Aponi would argue that he did it too much but it was his way of grieving. He hasn't been completely alone because family is always around the corner. I would say he's a bit sillier, a lot more loose and fluid. In the recent story post, he's still a bit more put together around Frances (with little pops of his personality) but the more he gets comfortable around them, we'll start to see that side of him and the dialogue there makes me chuckle hehe!

Midnight for Kai: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

✿ I think Kai's crush on Atlas brings up the bigger question on being gay in a religious community, especially one that is less accepting. When you're apart of something for such a long time, even if it isn't aligned with yourself, sometimes we seek approval from that because it's a community, it's a feeling of belonging so you don't want to be the odd one out. Kai holds a lot of shame for his identity because it's been drilled in his mind that it's wrong so for that shame to be uncovered, keeps him up at night. He likes to game a lot when he's feeling this way/unable to sleep because it's a form of escapism from these problems, he can pretend for a bit to be someone else.

Skin for Taryn: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

𖤓 Ok so. Current Taryn is not comfortable in her skin. When she told Atlas "I keep asking myself why you’re so nice to me all of a sudden. Why would someone like you be around someone like me and it’s such a… Mind-fuck." while it was about their confusing situation, the low-confidence towards herself automatically equated that Atlas just wanted a one night stand. Taryn does view herself as undesirable, she really doesn't see herself as beautiful so she's dealing with that version of herself and it's heartbreaking to say the least. She acknowledges it completely and in a way it makes decisions for her. Facing this current self brings a lot of hopelessness and while she does enjoy her time around Atlas, hearing his compliments flies over her head because she's so lost in herself and that to me... Is a tragedy. She is slowly getting better, I think her setting boundaries and speaking up is her doing right by herself but damn does the rejection of her publishing book stings.

[deadgirlwalking91]

oh lmao it’s fine! i’m sry for ruining the surprise tho..istg i didn’t mean to.

u can totally make it up by writing some other kind of scenario if u want to, u can choose whatever u want and i mean it! i love the way u writ you’re fantastic 😭✋

Hey Anon,

Absolutely no issue at all! More than happy to even let some more info slip - it'll be called, 'I Don't Dance' and was inspired by the ask that was sent earlier in the week re Adam and Lute dancing at a club. But! Also more than happy to whip up a little scene, so here you are (and thank you for the compliment, too!). Enjoy! PS - @a-dose-of-comatose gave me the prompt for this because I couldn't think of one, but I've deviated slightly 😂 sorryyyyyy

Touching back down in Heaven after an Extermination was a sensation that Lute would never grow tired of.

Sure, ramming her sword through the throats of the shitbags that littered the streets of Hell was satisfying, and perhaps the gratification she got from seeing their insides splatter against the pavement was a little…much, but nothing beat flying back through that portal and setting foot on Holy land, where she belonged.

Glancing around at the surrounding Exorcists who had congregated in the barracks showers, she sheathed her sword before placing her hands either side of her helmet and lifted it off her head. She tucked it under her arm and ran a wet, blood-soaked hand through her hair, leaving streaks of red in its wake.

“Hey, great job taking down that loan shark today, Lute!” Layla had already stripped down to her underwear and sports bra, uniform dutifully discarded into the giant hamper that housed all their soiled tunics, gloves and leggings. Some poor fucker – usually one of the newer recruits – would be responsible for sorting through and washing them all over the coming days.

“Thanks,” Lute grinned, bumping her fist against Layla’s outstretched one. “Did you see how fucking desperate he was to get away?”

“Yeah, but you took care of that right away!” Cinnamon laughed as she headed towards the shower cubicles. “That sorry cunt never stood a chance against you!”

Cinnamon was right. No Sinner that dared to lock eyes with Lute ever lived to tell the tale. She made damn sure of that.

“How many did you manage this year, Lieutenant?” a short, brunette Exorcist emerging from the showers asked.

“Two hundred and fifty one, Coco. You?”

“A hundred and three, ma’am.”

“Not a bad effort for your second year. Keep it up. You might crack one-fifty next year.”

Lute glanced down at her watch. Five-thirty. The only downside to returning to Heaven after an Extermination meant that her working day wasn’t over; she and Adam were responsible for filling out all the initial report that needed to be submitted to Sera by midnight that same day. She had half an hour before she needed to be back in the office, ready for their debrief.

Or at least, that’s what she told her sisters-in-arms.

Realising she was still holding her helmet, Lute quickly slipped out of the bathroom to return it to the arsenal. Another unlucky Exorcist would be tasked with cleaning and polishing all of them, before another, more tech-savvy soldier would perform yearly maintenance on them.

It was easy enough to find her helmet’s spot in the armoury. It was in prime position to the very left of the doorway, right beside Adam’s. Surprisingly, his was already racked away; normally he’d take it home with him as he wore it most of the time, even outside of Extermination season. She set it down gently.

“How fucking long did you wanna take, bitch?”

Lute screamed and whirled around; despite knowing exactly who that voice belonged to, it didn’t change the fact that it startled her completely. Adam stood, leaning against one of the walls.

“Sir,” she gasped, holding a hand to her bloodied chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Next time, keep your guard up and you won’t have to worry about being scared.” Adam said as he slowly advanced towards her. Lute felt her pulse quicken with each step, until he stopped just short of arms’ reach. She was sure her heart was going to burst through her chest.

“Did anybody follow you here?”

“No,” she breathed, looking up into his face. “They’ve all hit the showers. Nobody suspects a thing. They probably think I’m on my way to do paperwork.”

“Paperwork,” he laughed, snaking a hand around her waist. “Who the fuck does more work after a fucking Extermination?”

“Us, apparently,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to lace her arms around his neck. “I’m not sure if I should be offended that they believe that lie so easily.”

“I’m fucking offended,” Adam said, “you shouldn’t be, considering you love paperwork and all that shit.”

“I do,” Lute agreed, “but there’s only one thing I’m interested in doing post-Extermination.”

“Oh yeah babe, and what’s that? Besides taking a shower, by the way. You fucking reek.”

She smirked and pulled his head down to hers, pausing just long enough so she could whisper, “You”, before kissing him utterly senseless.

[mklegends-smokescreen]

Requiem Mirror; Chapter 7: Midnight stroll

10 p.m., Billie sits near the bar at the Black Dragon fight club, sipping a drink while still shaken up after the event that took place a week or so ago. Soon enough, Kano comes in to check on his daughter. He pulls up a folding chair and sits by the dragoness.

Kano: Hey, you good, girl? Still shaken up about what happened in that arena?

Billie: Huh? Oh uh, yeah, thanks. I'm fine, don't worry.

Kano: Ya know, I went through something simmilar in my day.

Billie: When did ya become a gandpa?

Kano: (chuckles) I'm serious though. But hey, there's a reason I gave you that knife for keepsakes.

Billie: Thanks for lookin' out, pop.

Kano: It's aight. Now go to sleep, you need to rest.

She heads to her room and waits for a couple hours for it to be completely silent. She looked at her phone to see a message by the caped crusader that reads „Meet me @ the bridge near that fast food when u can“ she responded with an „OMW“ and climbed out of her window and went to the place they're ment to meet up. Sometime around midnight, Nico is leaning on the side of the bridge and notices Billie walking down and waving him hi.

Nico: Maybe you could have came over before the police hour?

Billie: Maybe I would've made it sooner if I didn't have to get here from 2 miles away.

Robin: Alright, sorry, no need to get your green steamed.

Billie: So, why'dya called me here for?

Robin: I, don't really know. Guess I want to know the other side a bit better. Plus, you didn't tell me everything.

Billie: Sure.

They walked down the street, with the city lights glimmering bellow them. The two spitball questions like „how's it going?“ and such, and it was like this for the fifteen minutes, but then bird man started asking more in-depth things.

Robin: So, is there something you didn't tell me the first time we talked properly?

Billie: I'm not getting into this scar on my neck. Not in a thousand years, ya bird-fucker.

Robin: Alright, playing hard to get i see... Hey how 'bout this? I tell you my story that i've never told anyone ever, and in exchange, you can consider telling me about that scar. Deal?

Billie seemed anoyed, but intereseted where this could go. She shrugged and responded.

Billie: Sure, shoot.

Robin: I, never really had someone to rely on. As a kid, my folks and I lived as slaves under Shao Kahn's iron fist. I managed to escape, but when i came back with these blades (tugs his jacket, revealing his two daggers), I was too late. They were killed and, my spirit was broken, and I slain every living man in that outpost. I've got my revenge, but at what cost?

Billie's eyes grew wider, as she didn't know this tragic story of her new found friend.

Nico: I started hunting and killing one or two crimminals, like a hyper-violant web slinger that  I almost completely am.

Billie: Jesus Christ... I'm, sorry I didn't...

Robin: Hey, don't worry about it. I let my almost childish nature take over, it dulls the stress. And helps me cope with how thing are currently.

Billie was shocked, as she didn't know someone like Robin could have such a dark past.

Billie: I... Never really gave much though to other's stories. I guess I've been blinded by my own demons that I didn't know how some people can be so scarred.

Robin: There's nothing wrong with not knowing those around you. It's wrong to judge by purely first impression. Or not asking without knowing someone in the first place. That was bassically our first meeting a year back.

Billie: Oh yeah, I forgot 'bout that whole fiasco. And uh, sorry I tried to kill you durring the whole other-world tournament thing.

Nico: Hey, i'm sorry you had to almost relive through the neck cutting thing, speaking of which...?

Nico said, as he gestured toward the scar on the dragonesses neck.

Billie: Alright... my pops, mum and I were on a mission, and during an intervention arc bullshit, was done by some Reiko bastard.

Robin: General Reiko? He's just a menace through and through, huh?

Billie: Don't worry about it. Decapitated him afterwards.

Robin: You?

Billie: Yep.

Robin: Killed Reiko?

Billie: Yeeep.

Robin: By decapitation.

Billie: With a spear I made up from blood magic.

Nico: I'm impressed. Even i didn't dare stand up to the likes of Shao and Reiko.

Billie: They really need to learn to stop jobbing.

Robin: Absolutely, they needed some new hobbies.

They lived and laughed as the snow started to fall down and the lights bellow shimmered. They even grabbed a coffee on the way back. Robin even explained Siris why Tremor and Kabal left the B.D.

Billie: so, what you're saying is: Tremor left because Smoke convinced him that he doesn't belong to me dad, and uncle Carlos dipped all those years back because he got fed up with doing crime and shit. Right?

Robin: Where theres Smoke, theres drama, and now they're both retired. Tremor went to find some place called „the Dream realm“ and Kabal has retired permanently. Who knows? Maybe be got married with the woman of his dreams and is living happily. But thats just a theory.

Billie: Kabal married? That's a mental image I never thought I needed.

Robin: May even sound dumber if he were married to a demon woman and got a puppy.

Billie: (laughing hysterically) I don't Know what's funnier, the fact you just said that, or the fact that i imagined him living in a highly weaponized mansion while monologuing...

The crusader laughed along, as he held onto the steel railing of the bridge. They exchange insults, as they deside to call it a night and say their goodbyes.

Billie: Hope to see ya again, ya red fuckwit!

Robin: You too, blood-bitch. Whoops, recycled jokes!

They wave goodbye and head back to their factions base's. Billie, not awakening anyone, heads back to bed. Robin, almost perfectly quietly sneaks back to the bedrooms through the lounge, but was eventually caught by Sonya.

Robin: (whispering) Do you ever go to sleep?

Sonya: (whispering back) Do you ever stop sneaking around? What were you doing out there?

Robin: (smirking) Just taking in the night air. You should try it sometime.

Sonya: (raising an eyebrow) You're up to something.

Robin: Just enjoying the peace and quiet. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got beauty sleep to catch up on--

Sonya: You're terrible at lying.

Robin: What do you mean?

Sonya: I've known you long enough to see when you're hiding something.

Robin: I've worked here for less than 5 months, the fuck you mean?

Sonya: You've got that look, like there's more going on in that head of yours than you let on.

Robin: (giggling) Maybe I'm just a mysterious guy.

Sonya: (rolling her eyes) Mysterious, my ass. Don't get into any trouble, or you answer to me.

Robin: (jokingly) Kinda doing that right now, and I'm losing minutes of sleep because of it.

Sonya: (unimpressed) You're always finding a way to test my patience, aren't you?

Robin: Part of my charm, captain of zero f's.

Robin went back to his room. Johnny eventually wakes up to this commotion, holding his pre-heated mug of coffee, looking higher than a kite.

Johnny: (yawning) What's going on? Did I miss something?

Sonya: Oh, nothing much. Just your protégé sneaking back in past curfew. You know, the usual.

Johnny: Which one, Cassie, Takeda or Robin?

Sonya: The outworld one.

Johnny, taking a sip of his coffee, raises an eyebrow.

Johnny: Oh, the new kid? What he do?

Sonya: He keeps sneaking out without anyone's permission, like some teen in a phase...

Johnny: Hey, reelaaax, hun. I'll talk to him when I can, you just go to sleep.

Sonya seems sceptical, but does trust her husband. She goes to sleep and Johnny finishes his coffee, as he heads to Robin's room.

Johnny knocks on Robin's door.

Johnny: Hey, Red! Mind if I come in?

Nico: Yeah?

there was a small pause, followed by light chuckles.

Nico: Sure, Mr. A-list, come on in.

Johnny walks in, looks around a bit before setting his gaze on Red Robin.

Johnny: So, the mysterious night wanderer, huh? What's the deal? I thought Sonya was the only one pulling late-night stunts around here.

Nico: Yeah, about that...

Nico looked around, making sure Sonya wasn't around, closing the door.

Nico: Mr. Cage, you've got to promise me you won't tell this to anyone.

Johnny, at first confused but interested, nodded.

Johnny: Sure, wassup?

Nico: Well, I might've had a little rendezvous with someone from the Black Dragon. You know, just an informal chat on a bridge.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

Johnny: Black Dragon, huh? What were you doing chatting with the enemy?

Nico: Relax, relax, it's not what you think. We just had a casual exchange of stories. You know, the typical hero and villain bonding over a juice kind of thing.

Johnny: Hero and villain bonding? Never thought I'd hear that one.

Nico smirks.

Nico: Yeah, well, sometimes the lines between hero and villain get a bit blurry.

Johnny chuckles.

Johnny: You're telling me, kid. So, what's the story? Bonding with the enemy?

Nico starts sharing the details of his conversation with Billie, including the exchange of personal stories and the deal about revealing secrets. Johnny listens, nodding at times.

Johnny: Well, well, well. You're playing the diplomat, huh? Just don't let Sonya catch you fraternizing with the enemy. You know how she is about protocol.

Nico: Trust me, I'm already on thin ice with her. I don't need more reasons for her to chew me out.

Johnny laughs.

Johnny: Good luck with that, Nico. Just be careful, okay? Not everyone in the Black Dragon is as friendly as the one you met on that bridge.

Nico: Thanks, Mr. Cage. I'll keep that in mind.

Johnny pats Nico on the shoulder.

Johnny: Alright, now get some sleep. We've got a world to save or something like that, right?

Nico grins.

Nico: Right, Mr. Cage. World-saving duty calls.

Johnny leaves the room, shaking his head with a smile, while Nico gets ready for some well-deserved rest.

Johnny, walking back to his room, he passes by Hsu Hao's cell. (Hey, remember that guy!?)

Hsu Hao: Hey, Cage.

Johnny: Hey, Hao.

Hsu Hao: You know, it's been ages since anyone acknowledged my existence. What's the occasion?

Johnny: Just doing my nightly stroll, you know, keeping an eye on things. How's the cell treating you?

Hsu Hao: Oh, you know, the usual. Cold, lonely, and the view sucks.

Johnny: Can't say I feel sorry for you, considering the stuff you pulled back in the day.

Hsu Hao: Fair enough. So, what's the gossip around here?

Johnny: Well, we've got a mysterious artifact causing chaos, and we're teaming up with the Black Dragon to sort it out. You'd love the drama.

Hsu Hao: Teaming up with the Black Dragon? Now that's a plot twist. What's the catch?

Johnny: You sound like my wife. Anyway, long story short, our kids got dragged into some interdimensional mess, and we're all trying to clean it up.

Hsu Hao: Intergenerational drama, huh? Classic Cage.

Johnny: You know it. Anyway, don't get too comfortable in there. I'm sure Sonya will find some mission for you sooner or later.

Hsu Hao: Oh, joy. Can't wait for that.

The night continues, Johnny goes to bed, and Hsu Hao looks up at the ceiling, falling asleep.

[heliianth]

omg return of the king (HTTYD FIC!!!!!!!) 🌟🌟

ya!!! i cant promise anything man i dont even know if ill add anything but like . im thinking abt it yanno? anyway. uh. the wip (its long be warned). becuz i luh u <3 <3

When escaping the circle of midnight sun, usually waiting for the melt was the most tedious part. The sky hung grey with slow day, clouds of snow-fog blanketing his ship with frost. Though winter was slowly releasing her grip, this far north still felt her fingers, long and bloodless. Under his boots cracked a thin layer of ice.

They made this journey annually, at the peak of Cockoo’s Month. Their ship pioneered past razored ice sheets and an ever-fluctuating landscape of bergs as they were swept south by cold ocean currents. Lantern light reflected against their dark surfaces, waning like so many little moons, a great blanket of manmade stars. This crew was used to plodding around during the forever morning, the sun a constant overhang and daytime an insidious cloak. Lesser men’s heads might ache with pervading sunlight and their cheeks grow feverish with sickness. If the sleep deprivation didn’t rot the mind, it was the calls of unreachable Seashockers and Northern Scauldrons as they fought in pods underneath the ice. And if it wasn’t them, it was the already captured dragons, whose rest cycles were so disrupted that attempted sleep was always accompanied by a cacophony of bellowing. 

By design, their single ship, Skinfaxi, was meant to withstand it all; both the fragile mind and their conditions. A tall, bulky seamaiden with a metal hull and winches anchored to the deck by foot-long nails, she held them over while they trudged around the outskirts of dragon territory. Her three floors, each connected by worn stairs, were dark and humid enough to soften sores in frostbitten nostrils, and her cargo bay was stuffed with mead and exotic seasonings which flavored even the driest jerky. Every vulnerable part was plated with expensive dragonproof metal and while they rarely encountered dragonroot arrows in markets, they used stockpiles wisely. Skinfaxi hadn’t been so much as grazed by a dragon in at least a decade. 

Dragon hunting was a southern trade, down near the floor of the archipelago, where nests teemed with fuckers of all kinds to net and cage. Hunting brigades never travelled into the midnight sun circle—populations tended to die further north than that and the rough waters were too much for the convoys usually employed by contractors. Dragon territory only started up here if you went way past what sane people would consider safe, but Briger had earned him and his men a small fortune offering to net here. When you arrived at that sweet spot, where the sea gave way into an actual continent instead of miles of walkable ice and seal holes, the breeds grew big and the yield became bountiful. 

Despite their competency, Briger and Skinfaxi were used to being looked over. His crew, mostly consisting of family and family’s friends, were from poor fishing villages beset by raids, whose ancestors were no-names and whose yellow, crooked teeth hid behind yellow-frosted beards. They bet on Gris games and bit their nails bloody and smelled like sweat and dirt. At least a few men had replaced limbs, thick, untranslatable accents, and bastards running around somewhere at home. They were not esteemed and shaven like southmen, but they got the job done well enough. 

Briger held pride in his work, his ship, his men. They were a reliable service and got reliable results. Sometimes contractors would specify something outrageous just to be difficult, but their cages housed everything from Snow Wraiths to Stormcutters and all came back in nice enough condition to be marketable. Their reputation was contained but good, and Briger was seeing wealth the likes of which Daddy never could’ve imagined hadn’t he been drunk off his ass before he kicked it. Now, he could even afford to be stingy with who he dealt with. Who would’ve thought? 

Still, Briger knew when to haggle and when to be hired. 

Right before Briger planned to make his annual trek, a bear-furred man with a large, tattooed underbite docked in the Northern Markets. His was a recognizable presence and his convoy was ill with riches; the frequents tittered about his arrival in a way that piqued Briger’s interest. Apparently, the bear man’s hunting business was renowned down south. Briger might’ve invited him to a drink had he not thundered towards him first with a small army in tow. 

Sporting a healthy sense of self-preservation, Briger accepted the rate he was offered like a flogged woman without an ounce of backchat. And when the nutjob uttered his request, face red with sweat and his fingers black with the gnawing linger of ice, Briger knew that he’d done something to make the gods mad. 

He fully expected him and his crew to drown in the northern ice sheets looking for a crazy man’s myth. 

======

The melt took almost a month; dangerously close to moonrise. In northern dragon territory, that was not good, to put it lightly. To be caught out on the snow the minute the midnight sun went down was a death sentence, and Briger’s crew narrowly missed it the minute a wide channel cleared in the ice. By the time the frost on the wood melted, the ship was so noisy with dragon crying that Briger had forgotten the sound of his own thoughts. They quieted right up by the time night came—real night, that would end in at an appropriate time instead of overstaying six months. 

The Northern Markets were a constant landmark; a misty silhouette on the horizon. Briger couldn’t help but observe what they were bringing into port, more self-conscious than he’d been in his life. Their emblazoned sails were hoisted high, oars lined in piles against the deck railing. The dragon cages had been pulled to the side, blanketed in soaked extra sail cloth, to keep their accursed eyes from staring and their fire down. 

The weather these past few days had been abysmal; the air down here wasn’t what could be described as wet, but it was right tropical compared to the ice sheets, and that meant sleet storms pulled through every few days. It had given him a few bloody noses, which he’d rubbed raw enough to hurt in every inhale. But Briger couldn’t mind it. His fingers could already feel the coin. 

“These requirements are gods-damned ‘bleedin us,” Svend groused from beside him. His breath wheezed the tiniest bit, and he pulled down his hood to separate his greasy hair from his forehead. “We’re gonna lose more than we’re getting, boss.”

“Nah.” Briger’s fidgety, itchy hands were worn from cloth-pulling and rope-rubbing, and a few of his callouses bled from pinching. He looked down at Svend’s, the exposed of which was decorated with an angry bite mark. “Little shit got you good, didn’t ‘e?” 

Svend displayed it with a deep scowl. “The sagefruit ain’t work, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A wave rocked the boat, blew salty spray on board and into their mouths. Briger wiped his, stroked his spittled beard and tucked it under his elbows. “On the savage or the dragon?” 

“The fuck you think?” Svend rubbed it with his other gloved hand, making a face that looked like he’d eaten something expired. His crooked pinky stuck out sideways with a pink flush and his teeth were still spotted with tack and his nose flared with indignance. 

“Well, put ‘somethin on it if it’s making you so sour,” Briger told him. 

“We got other problems too, man,” Svend raved with a peculiar petulance. He was usually a casual man, with a habit of gambling and a hobby for pissing self-important knobheads off and getting his face smeared for it. He was an adrenaline seeker and usually lived for scraps. Not with their new catch, apparently. “Thing ‘won drink, ‘won eat. Smart enough to figure it all out after the dragon passed out. Like a mangy dog with twice the fight in ‘et.” 

“The thing’ll starve if it don’t eat,” Briger gestured with a hand, like he was showing off an array of plated food options in front of him. “Et’ll get taken care of in shipping. Eret’s got a contractor, ‘member?” 

“Bo tried knocking ‘em out to treat the tag and came back with his tail between his legs. ‘Yer guy’s gonna get a fucking finger taken off.” Again, Svend showed him the bite. He’d been gotten deep, and it looked like there’d been a struggle. They’d likely thrashed each other and both of them probably regretted that. “I mean it, this was a bad call. We’re mucking around in bad shit.”

Skinfaxi’s sharp bow parted the fog. The Market loomed despite their distance. Already he could taste it—“We’re gonna draw a crowd,” he hummed absentmindedly.

“‘Brig,” Svend insisted, laying his gloved hand on his shoulder. Briger shrugged him off, callous. “C’mon. I know ‘yer smelling gold, but this is my whole life.”

“What, you got a wife and daughter?”

“Don’t say that shit,” Svend sneered. The bite mark he was once nursing like a mother was suddenly unimportant enough for his hands to curl into fists. “You’re just scared of Eret and you’re scared of ‘givin this to ‘em.”

If Briger were more arrogant than he was, he might’ve taken him up on the aggression and knocked another one of Svend’s teeth loose. As it happened, they parted before either of them could get pissy enough to escalate further. They’d have a nice long drink of cheap market wine and this would be forgotten by the morning, Briger thought, then they’d get back to normal once they offhauled. He would never see Eret or his southern business again. 

Briger spent his time at Skinfaxi’s bow, leaning over the whorling ocean with a creased brow, as they approached that island speck. The tip and sway of the water was that of a cradle, his men’s hollering as they made landfall a lullaby. But as the island grew bigger, the colors vivid, idea erupting into true destination, the Market became so much more daunting. If before it loomed, now it threatened. What small vessels usually circled for precious space were absent, and the entire place exuded the same haunt as the ice wastes they’d just escaped. Something was amiss, and not a moment sooner Briger spotted why. 

A dozen or so warships awaited them, much too oversized for the Market’s harbor, which was merchant-crafted and merchant-minded. Each was massive, with armor that reflected what meager sunlight aimed true and gleaming ballistas which faced like spines outwards. Their masts waved high in the air and their sigil was one Briger had never seen before, painted bright red. 

His face paled and he threw himself into preparing to dock, throwing down the anchor furthest away from the sea tanks. Skinfaxi rocked into a halt. Her sails folded, her rigging slack. The captive dragons lowed and screeched, recognizing the place’s smell. 

Briger watched his men dive below deck. He stayed above and searched, skittish for their man. 

Eret met them punctually. He was with his same bearskin and his combed hair that looked far too princely for such a brutish face shape. He was stained with shadow; the man wasn’t big, but he filled his space well enough, and yet he was dwarfed when compared to…

Briger froze. 

When compared to his companion. 

If Eret drew eyes, this man was so immense that he dragged everything around him into a vortex. His hair hung in dreads across his expansive shoulders and his two exposed arms displayed flesh thick with muscle and as wide as tree trunks. He was a brick of a man, armed to the teeth, and Briger recognized him on impact. 

Oh gods, how he wished they’d been stuck in the moonrise back up north. He’d thought he’d won back his life by the skin of his teeth, but dying out there would’ve been quicker and kinder. Even though Briger was not a particularly religious man, he found himself praying as he forced his arms to lower the ramp. The greeting sound of it against the harbor was an explosion that threatened to take off his head. Then, feeling choked, he stumbled down it like a drunkard. 

Usually dragon hauls attracted the attention of the whole market. Northern breeds were exotic and dangerous, and sometimes buyers would take days to arrive, leaving the beasts on display next to the ships where onlookers could gaggle at them and make hunters preen. Auctions were held and often fighting rings swept by to advertise or invest. To say the Northern Market oozed with dragon addicts would be an understatement. But to have it so silent was unheard of. 

He couldn’t tell if the arrival of their cargo or the presence of Eret’s previously anonymous contractor was what shut the seabirds and gossips up. Even the dragons up top were utterly noiseless. 

The top of their cargo became visible, then the whole thing, metallic teal warps standing out against so much wooden brown and neutral steel. The cage’s wheels squealed, rusty from melted frost, and it bumped along the ramp and clattered when it went horizontal. Bo and Ulf pushed it with their backs and shoulders, unwilling to stick their fingers in there for even a moment. 

Though the reek of sagefruit still clung to every inch of it, the Night Fury inside was very much awake. Its wings were spread for balance, making the thing look like it filled out the whole oversized box. Its ears turned, radars picking up nothing, its teeth bared at everything. Half of its delicate tail fin had been torn by the grapple; the combination of sharp metal meant for traction and the thing’s sheer velocity a recipe that led to damage. It was a nasty wound, with leftover gore, though they cauterized and fixed up what they could to make sure it didn’t die on them. And despite the fact that its hurting tail was lashing and making a racket of the bars, its attention remained single-minded, tongue flicking between those razors like it was imagining the taste of flesh. 

And between its legs, spine arched against its belly, was the thing’s little devil-boy. He wore a new bruise on his jaw which was framed by strands of greasy hair that hid a different head wound in piles of shorn clumps. His rapid, terrified breaths clouded in the air, seeped from behind his curled lip, bloody gums exposed. All in all they were an aggressive, unhappy, sorry sight. 

Briger was intimately aware of the drop of sweat carving a path down the nape of his neck. 

With an embarrassing flourish of showmanship, he presented their catch, goosebumps sending burns down his spine where the two demons pressed their hating stares into him. 

Drago Bludvist appraised the merchandise indifferently and sniffed. “You tagged them.”

pretend this is a new chapter woooo yippeee yay ^-^

Hvergelmir gurgled spring water from the depths of the south. From it spilled the eleven rivers Elivagar into the vast nothingness and their venom congealed into slush, hardened by void’s touch. Rimed with sour venomous dribble, layers of ice and hoarfrost created a frozen, biting realm in the Ginnungagap: a great and desolate Niflheim.

Lurgy Island was shaped like a pillbug, low to sea level, and sloped. The east side tapered off into a pebbled beach littered with debris and the west side ended in a dropoff from which an inconsiderate man might fall to death from, body brutalized by the invisible rocks underneath the whitewater. It was guarded by natural barriers made of wind-sharpened stones that threatened to gore passing ships, and small whirlpools formed in the sea shelf that marked the abrupt edge of Lurgy’s shallow coast. It was far enough south that Skadi kept her snow for the winter months, but high enough north to be considered part of the Barbaric Archipelago. 

Lurgy, the hamlet for which the island was named, consisted of just over a hundred living in only a handful of timber longhouses. When a Lurgy man married, his wife’s family would move into his place, so you could be forgiven for thinking the amount of houses entirely inadequate for even such a small number of people. 

Despite their awkward economic position and geographical hazards, the people of Lurgy found the island was inundated with rain-watered soil rich enough to grow crops. They made their living exchanging barley, rye, and oats with the northmen whose islands were rankled by ice and forests. They managed a port twice the size of the village with imported wood and had a proud and longstanding, tight-knit community that valued hard work and occasionally indulged in humble luxury.

It was just over Lurgy’s hundredth winter when Randi Tovesdottir, who’d grown up in the quiet village her whole life, decided staying any longer was utterly unbearable. 

Winters past marrying age, Randi’s disposition drove away the few men her age that might’ve been willing. Any suitors her family tried to cajole into her were already brothers, or knew far too many embarrassing stories for her ego to withstand. Randi was a seamstress’ daughter with a lumberjack’s build who knew her way around an axe and a needle. She handled both with grace yet enjoyed neither, with a plaintive sort of restlessness that beguiled a trapped thing.

To put it simply, she thought she was uncontainable. Her voice was loud and brash, she towered over her childhood friends, and the skills her father introduced her to were sharpened until she believed herself invincible. By age eight she’d explored the whole island with an obsessiveness that only predators hunting down a kill could replicate. Around the age of her first bleed, she began to find the smell of their hearth intolerable, the chatter of her parents incessant, the generous spaces between longhouses confining. Every gentle prod about growing up was a deeply troublesome reminder of something undefinable to everyone but Randi herself. She was claustrophobic in the extreme. For a girl in Lurgy, these things boiled over into tense, sleepless nights after a collage of colorful arguments about her place in life. Truly Lurgy occupied a special place in her heart, the way only homes could, but she had a habit of running eastward and gazing out at the horizon. Her mother, Tove, called her dreams unfathomably big, but Randi believed the world was wide enough to fit all of them. So she kept casting her fishing lines towards the sun. 

And one day she caught something.

Randi was only looking for her daily aloneness she so craved on the eastern cliffs when she spotted a pair of longboats approaching them. She recognized the crest, and her eyes reflected the morning light, and she ran barefooted into Lurgy with a big grin on her face. The ships from Berk were here!

Berk was Lurgy’s biggest trade partner. And unlike many of the other islands in the Archipelago, including Lurgy themselves, they were startlingly isolated.

Randi had seen dragons before, she knew people who’d killed more than they could count on both hands. She’d taken a few herself. Lurgy was no stranger to the Dragon War. But with the Berkian longboats always came the scales and the teeth and the claws. Their village was overrun with dragons of all shapes and colors—so many they had nothing to do with their remains. It scared off any traveling merchant types, blocked trade routes, and recently there had been a rumor of a nautically-spread Berkian disease that attracted dragons to the smell of your piss. 

It was a surety that Lurgy might’ve never taken up business with them had their Chief—if you could call an ornery old man with wispy smatterings of patched blond beard and no family name who governed through age rather than any real lineage Lurgy’s Chief--not had such good relations with Berk’s own Chief. “Battle-brothers,” Aleinn called them, “forged in fiery dragon’s blood and good old tribes meeting mead.” 

The arrangement was for the betterment of both villages. Berk was so infested with dragonfire that any crops they might have tried to grow would burn up if snow didn’t smother every winter. They had enough land to grow yaks, sheep, and chickens, who ate from grass pastures and grass seed, so they were wealthy enough to buy Lurgy’s stock. In return, Lurgy bought dragon scales and teeth in droves, which were as good as coins in the North. Nadder scales were like silver, Nightmare scales like gold. To islands down south, it was an untranslatable worth and every tribe would be considered dirtily poor. Up here flourished an economy built on savage heroism. Randi couldn’t help but marvel at Berk’s collections every time they pulled in.

She cut knuckles and sliced calluses digging through the beach for seaglass, which she would painstakingly shape into ornaments worth Berk’s scales. She got herself a neat trade working with tool and thread to create things she was proud enough to sell, but too connected with to let go. Every time she gave up one in an exchange and watched the ships sail out to sea days later, it felt like Berk was taking little bits of her with them. 

This was especially true when she met Knat, the son of the Berkian representative that led their trade ships to Lurgy. 

When he caught her eye, Knat was not so remarkable. Every Berkian subsisted off of a protein-heavy diet which wore down their teeth and made them heavy-bodied. He was a thick, dark-haired, and short boy with a few balls of fuzz on his chin and a dense forest on his upper lip. Unbeknownst to Randi, who saw the best of his demeanor, Knat had a juvenile fascination with competition. His youth was spent one-upping his peers, jeering at stragglers, quarreling with his brother, and idolizing his father. At Randi’s age, he hadn’t shed any of these traits, only buried them underneath a generous coat of rightful humbling. By Berk standards Knat was ordinary in the extreme. His only particularly noteworthy claim to superiority at this time in his life was the fact that he was the second in line to the Hofferson clan. 

But Knat’s jaw was sharp, and his nose was strong, and his eyes were kind whenever he spoke to strangers. He had a voice that carried so far one might think it was stolen by birds, and a countenance that belied expertise handling weapons taller than grown men. These were the only things Randi, who had no idea of his familial status nor how Berk’s clans even worked, needed to fall madly in love. Without speaking to him once, she began to think of him as a representation of escape; the Berkians, with their untamed hair, masses of pelted cloaks, scars, and dragon scales were the definition of wilderness and adventure. Whatever Lurgy was, Berk was more so. And Knat was the pinnacle of it all. 

She became so preoccupied with the rugged ferality of Berk and Knat that her mother began to take notice. When she indicated she knew of Randi’s new fixation, her daughter became paralyzed. So long had she associated her hometown and those native to it with entrapment that she feared she’d be forced into an unhappy marriage and tied down forever. But Tove took the harrowing first step for her and told Knat as he was in the middle of selling boar hooves to her husband, with only the bluntness a crone could manage, “My daughter is obsessed with you.” 

At first, Knat was wary of her advances. Any other boy his age might’ve jumped at the opportunity to get involved with a young, reasonably pretty and certainly skilled girl so interested in him, but Knat was painfully conscious of his father’s acceptance and his brother’s opinion. He was entirely occupied with appearance and his place back home, and though he began to notice Randi’s shy, sneaky stares whenever he happened over at Lurgy, he never did anything about her brewing determination to be seen. Then, two winters later, Knat gave into the preening, tingling part of his mind that told him to take a chance on something wonderful.

He worked for a month learning womanish crafts to make her a bag out of Zippleback bladder and reindeer hide she could use to put her seaglass in so she wouldn’t scrape up her hands. Despite Finn inciting vicious mockery over the image of his mountainous Viking older brother hunched over to make a poor man’s attempt at embroidery, he felt not a smidge of shame. The end result was similarly misshapen, crude, and plain, but it glowed with time and care. Then, Knat got on his knees and begged to be on the next expedition out to Lurgy. 

Their romance was young and swift. Knat indulged wholly in Randi’s ideas by spinning tales of victory in Berk’s Kill Ring and imagery of grand coniferous forests backdropped by glaciers which made mountains lopsided with weight. What she imagined of Berk’s arching landscapes and fields of sea stacks only worsened the pain in her chest. Her staring out onto the horizon became pointed northward, with a chin rested mournfully on her hand and a heaved sigh. Tove described her as a wife waiting for a husband to return from war, and she supposed that with Berk’s dragon problem, one part was true.

The other part became true soon after. Randi’s father, a gruff man with staunch worldviews that often got him into trouble with her mother, had a weak spot for his daughter and found no fault in Knat, who had truthfully approached him last quarter to ask the same thing. That spring, Berk pulled into Lurgy’s docks with a dowry. It wasn’t a surprise; Randi helped work on the small pen for the livestock that she’d be worth—Knat had wanted to pay more, but Lurgy didn’t have that kind of space, and the Hofferson clan didn’t want to spend that kind of wealth on a girl from a little farming village. Nonetheless, all parties were satisfied. 

The first night, the newly betrothed found themselves overwhelmed with their proximity. The cabins were cramped, the bed singular. Actually leaving home wasn’t nearly as weightless as Randi had believed. Instead her stomach rolled and her bones went numb watching Lurgy disappear. Seeking adventure, she pushed Knat down on the bed and they filled the room with sweat. Knat pulled her close, body a furnace and hands quivering. He told her they needed to get married quickly after arrival, just to be safe, because there were no contraceptive herbs on the boat. Randi cried so hard her head pounded, suddenly ill with indecision. 

On the eve of the second day on the boat, Randi caught her first glimpse of Berk. She expected to be invigorated, energized, but she couldn’t move as they swayed towards the arching, spired landscape. The growing dusk didn’t light up the sky in wonderful colors, the newborn stars didn’t shine. There was a thick miasma of storm clouds hanging onto the peak of the giant mountain which stuck out of the water like a monumental shard of ancient stone. Quilts of trees protruded from nearly every slope like hairs, and the village itself sat on a wide shelf overlooking the water, directly bathed in the struggling sunset. It stood out so harshly against the empty, ruthless ocean. It was a grand and daunting sight. After a life devoid of humbling, how could she not stare? 

Twelve days north of hopeless and only a few degrees south of freezing-to-death, floating towards her new home directly along the meridian of misery, something quenched her. Like the freezing air had erased all of her wanderlust with a gentle scrape. Under the descending night, eyes locked with her new home, Randi was now perfectly content standing still. 

======

“How are you doing?” Astrid balanced the supper tray on the nightstand and perched on the edge of the bed. Her body sank.  

Móðir reached a hewn hand toward Astrid, her face grim. “This is humiliating,” she said, and sent herself into a flurry of hoarse, grated coughing. 

“It’s not,” Astrid reached for the mug on the tray and placed it, delicate, into Móðir’s fragile fingers. She strangled it and looked at Astrid with some disbelieving derision. “I’m serious,” Astrid insisted. 

Móðir ignored her attempts to help her sit up so she could drink. The straw-stuffed pillow crunched underneath her weight, fabric crinkling. She eyed the warm milk, something contemplative coming over her, before speaking. “So there’s been luck with the yaks?” 

Knowing what she was attempting, Astrid made a motion that conveyed she’d whack the mug’s bottom and spill it if Móðir didn’t hurry up. “Just drink.” 

Móðir sighed and leaned back, tipping the mug upward. Sweat beaded down the hollow of her neck, her forehead and cheeks and nose grew rosier. The wet sheen to her hairline made her skin metal underneath the candlelight. Despite her exertion, like every convulsion of her throat threatened to strangle her, Móðir refused Astrid’s assistance. 

“I’ve also brought cheese and bread.” Astrid distracted herself by pulling the supper tray onto her lap, which pushed her into the cushioned bed even more. She’d refused to let Móðir lay on the wooden slabs they normally used for sleep, and created a huge mattress out of her own blankets and grass. 

The unfamiliar terrain made her feel ten times as heavy, especially when she looked back at Móðir and saw the way milk ran down her chin in undignified rivulets, then sprayed when she hacked into her elbow. Móðir tried to clean it away with her hands mittoned by the quilt, but Astrid recognized the shake in them.

“This is humiliating,” she repeated. 

“You’re sick,” Astrid told her. Then she held up an ugly chunk of cheese. “What sort of daughter would I be if I let you starve?”

“Oh, everyone’s getting thin nowadays,” Móðir dismissed her with a croak. Even so, she took Astrid’s offer and let the cheese melt on her tongue, bitten nails lingering on her chin as if to manually chew. Her next words were coated with spit: “The next Giving is coming up.” 

At the mention of the Givings, Astrid’s face soured. She manhandled the slices of bread and tore them into bite-sized balls with far too much force. Her jaw, clenched, refused to form words. 

Móðir inspected her. “Astrid.”

“I know,” is all she could provide. Then, to make up for it, she produced a torn slice, which her mother frowned at. “I don’t know what I’m going to put out.” 

“Well,” Móðir rolled the bread into a compact ball, thumb knuckle going white. She braced her temples with two fingers, concentrating. “What did you put out last time?” 

“An axe,” Astrid mumbled, not wanting to look her mother in the eyes, “...my axe.” 

She’d polished it for hours, until she could see her own reflection. The steel wasn’t pure, but Gobber never half-assed workmanship, and it was the best axe she had. It swung like an extension of her own arm, weighted beautiful and dangerous in her palm, the ashwood handle weathered. She won dragon training with it--she’d knocked a tooth out of the huge purple Nightmare with its blunt and killed the thing by driving the head into its neck. 

She fidgeted. Maybe the Dragon Master could smell the blood on her. Maybe that’s why he left it to collect dust outside for three days. 

All of the Hofferson clan’s Givings since she’d killed it at fifteen went unnoticed, and people in the village began to look at her sideways. Truthfully, it enraged her, and she had no desire to leave things out any longer. When the Givings started she thought it ridiculous, and now she believed it even more so, now that she could not conquer it. Rooted into her core was a deep and cantankerous sort of rebellion she’d never experienced before. What was one Giving without an offering if the Dragon Master never accepted anyway? 

“Astrid…” Móðir admonished again. The feeling of skinny, wide-jointed fingers twisted Astrid’s irate expression into exhaustion. Móðir was one such superstitious proponent; a believer in absolute destiny and holy belonging ever since she set foot on Berk. Her mouth opened and closed, partially searching for something to say and partially gasping in air like a fish. 

Astrid ripped another clump of bread from the crust. “I think the Givings are stupid.” She watched Móðir’s shifting face carefully. When she got nothing, she barreled onward. “They don’t work,” her hands clenched, “and not just for us! Not just because of me, Mamma!” She accused, “Did you know a month ago Gothi’s hut got stolen from? Even though her granddaughter’s offering worked the night before?” 

“Astrid,” she echoed, trying to sound stern with her brittle voice.  

“No!” She leapt up. The tray clattered all over the ground, bread and cheese spraying like blood from a wound. “It’s only been here three winters but everyone kowtowed immediately! What, because the merchants fear it? We’ve been dealing with dragons for centuries and now--” she grasped her tunic, sewn and modified to fit a muscular woman’s figure, cinched with the standard masculine belt for its shape. Now it hung off of her in drapes. To emphasize her point, she gestured with both of her arms to Móðir’s condition, barreling on despite her mother’s wince. “We’re thralls in our own village, Mamma! And--!” 

“I’ll make you a new one,” she interrupted. “And your father will help you pick out an offering.”

“There’s no more thread!” She waved her arms around, voice pitching. “This is insane! What happened to Vikings, Mamma?” 

Móðir’s throat bobbed when she swallowed. The mug she held on her lap, still trapping a film of milk, was easier to stare at than her face. 

Astrid turned away, rising indignation strangled by a sudden awareness of her blowsy. She was pierced by something barbed which made her feel like a child. All of that work to restore the Hofferson name after Uncle Finn, and it was useless. She’d sweated, and sacrificed, and whittled her skill into a knife’s point until there was no option left but success. Now someone else would have to work to restore the Hofferson name after her, all because some demon on the back of a Night Fury knew where to hit them the hardest. 

The last one to approach Berk had been shot down almost fifty winters ago by the Chief’s grandfather. Felled by the last dragonroot arrow from an indulgent investment, it had careened into the sea and they retrieved nothing of it. Freed of devilspawn, that summer’s was the best harvest they’d had seen, and their defenses flourished without explosions big enough to bring them down. The last five decades had been some of the most prosperous in Berk’s history, despite the uptick in raids. At least, that’s what the adults said. 

Astrid first heard the whistle when she was fourteen. She’d been on fire patrol. Fear had struck her stupid and she narrowly avoided being crushed by the southern catapult that had exploded into a fiery shower of shrapnel. For days afterwards she’d pick out splinters or discover burns she didn’t remember getting. 

After that, things started going missing. Their hunting traps broke, taken apart and dumped somewhere else, often down cliffs or into lakes, and would keep breaking even if they set new ones. Gobber’s shop, which had once been a go-to for trading items due to how much scrap it’d accumulated over his decades working there, would be ravaged. Tools and leftovers and once even a whole anvil were gone by sunrise. Their bolas were stripped of rope, their fishing boats robbed of nets. 

Astrid won dragon training in trousers so raggedy she could’ve been mistaken for an Outcast. 

One night, devoid of raids, the village woke up to resounding booms coming from the direction of the sea. Standing outside, they realized it came from the Kill Ring. Investigation yielded a chilling scene—all of their captured dragons released, the doors methodically deconstructed and then blasted into useless lumps of metal. In the soot remaining were boot soles and a single, small handprint, walking side by side with unfamiliar dragon paws.

Berk broke into hysteria. 

thats all i got :) thumbsup

[lonespektr]

SEPTEMBER 17TH HORROR WATCH

Eight or Silver (The Cursed) {2021}

The war of who when??

Trenches

Mustard gas

Tent surgery, limb bucket

Silver bullet in one dude 😮

35 years prior

Interior

Children fancy house

Not actually bathing whine wash room and you half nekkid splashing water hun if you don't puck up some SOAP atrocious hygiene number one most horrific element 🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼

Creepa

Melt down coins

How you WASTIN silver

Not a grill??!!

With elongated canines with sigils??

Did you even get a gum/teeth mold

White people stealing roma land after not bathing 🧼🧼🧼🧼

Hire mercenaries to remove them from the land

Okay lots of short scenes

I really dislike shirt cut exposition scenes it's like a montage that's a homework assignment

I would literally rather read it, pick it up from context, or have longer scenes that FLOW

But just exposition CUT diff info CUT Another info dump scene CUT

I'ont like it

They running the Roma off

Burnt the lil camp

The laughing scenes sound like women WHIST

A woman is being carried off to be r*ped so that's a choice!??

There's only men having fun from tourment sooooo

Silver grill maker and grill receiver are caught

Gruesome literally hacked up man trussed him like a scarecrow

Woman is being buried alive

I WOULD appreciate the implication of white woman in this with the cut to them fancy in the house as in -this is all on their behalf

If not for the voiceover of women in joyus laughter while the men are committing the heinous

Tbd on these elements???

Magpies??

Young woman night mare

Undead scarecrow man now

New pathologist rolls into town, third shot of white boy training to be a colonizers

Magpies

He's digging now too

All the children having the same dream

In this instance sleep walking

He dreamed of both parties

Classic floating woman scene

Second eight for silver nursery reference

Apparently they have settlement banishment powers

The elders for id it?

Okay so all children have dreamed it

OKAY

Why would they bury it??

Whisper teeth curse?? Like the one ring type shit

Now he biting kids

BRUH you ignoring your children

They screaming and banging.

Boy bit wheezing, from???

His airway doesn't seem compromised.swelling infection?

Another jump cut dream

Who moves a sheet? She should have looked down or something

Vines??

Wtf

Lots of body horror

They literally let their children run off

Why is the biter normal and walking around??? Hello

He doesn't remember

Thirty pieces of silver

Now how YOU KNOW

Bruh u rippin the bible bruh

Teeth in the church

Ok the children are cursed cause they parents colonizers

U sure that's ed bro?

Is that barley?

Literally came by and ripped the hand off but it still works??

One down??

They brought the pathologist

Detective pathologist inspects the house and boards the windows

They making that lil girl ding

White entertaining habits are wild

She crying and the dad is mad at her

He's the only adult to dream (younger but absolutely an adult)

Bonus dream after digging

He dreamed mr scarecrow had his wife n kid

Wait now who did she ask was gon die??

His mobile old timey microscope is seeing molecules??

I have just googled and yes them old ass microscopes could see a blood cell 🤔🤷🏿‍♀️

My scincerest apologies to old ass microscopes

Mystery remains unanswered why would a wild animal break into a house?

I knew they were going to reverse that

Bro looking like the midnight mass vampire

Look the woman is useless and got attacked and fell and is screeching

Out the second floor

Rooted?

Cacooned

Odd ECOVAMPIRE

I appreciate the novelty

You get bit then you grow roots and get watered then cacooned

Now you are vampire

This mother fucker was listening outside the door waiting for somebody to say magic??

Peak WASP never talk about the problem proto WASP

Supress, deny, hide, disregard

He going hunting now

His fam got kit by the same curse back where??

He finally found the real body

A classic stick pit trap

Nice shot with the white trees

Birtch?

Already speared

Clearly humanoid bro

How do you get down there or back out after you pointy them sticks?

Not what's his face in a bit role

Bro what dod dragons rumor to look like back then

They not helping

He's a shit surgeon

There's the girl inside the body

Stil screaming

FIRST thing out his mouth is DON'T TELL

WASP SHIT

Hide it from your wife

It's body horror+ evo horror and jump cuts and the horror of colonialism

Bro just knock like a normal person why you gotta scare everybody

Them shiloh looking begals taking me out

Mam why are you out doing laundry we are on lock down

Raiding party this is your own fault

Another award winning screen that's what women do scream

And they of course cut to the laundry now dirty it's very women are useless

Like they can't even clean the laundry

What if when aren't like after thoughts in films

Maid made it, so now she van turn inside the home

Is this struggling class commentary will the poor kill the rich

Bro leave in the middle of the night???

Now you know the cost of greed

Bro you also can't stay in somebody house uninvited week maybe he meant in town

I'm bout to fall asleep I'm hella exhausted i hiked many miles today

Maid biting it

They usually bust out the winda though

Omg making coffee i thought he was making more silver bullets 🤣🤣

Maid bitin em

Fire

Maid shot

Lol i loved how genuinely awkward is was to light that torch on a run

Umm??.torch flir

Gas

Finally admitted he dreaming crazy

Torched himself in the lil barn without a word to family talking about tell Isabel, bro u could have said goodbye, it's not instant the shortest turn around time was like....six hours???

Wide Ave daughter are out of the house, the exact family ratio he used to have

[bloodstarved]

soma of the ejinn (they/them)

--self-proclaimed naiad & sarcosuchus enthusiast