#through the screen and explain it in plain words to him and give him the solution

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Richas is trying to help bad convey his feelings and bads like post-reset social ineptness is showing because hes like "yeah i wanted to have a full day with her because she asked because she was upset" which is so fucking real. actually might need to make a whole separate post about how bad thinks because i understand it really hard

[pierregazly]

i've got you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x best friend!reader

warnings: angsty, arthur leclerc is the villain, oscar is in love w/ the reader but wont ever admit it, no hea [963 words]

request: 💗 can i request oscar with prompt 6? please and thank you!! 😽[6. "I've got you."]

A violent sob ripped itself from your body, your hand clutching the phone in front of you, the incriminating photo in plain view as you tried to process what was so prevalent on the screen.

It had been so obvious that things were falling apart in your relationship, they had been for months. Date nights were cancelled, anniversaries forgotten, but you never thought he would lower himself to this. Never thought you’d be getting that ‘I think this is your boyfriend?’ text. 

But here you were, trying to contain the feelings flowing through you, the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak.

He had told you it was a small trip with his brothers, it was offseason for everyone, the only time they really had to relax. The lie was staring right at you, Arthur’s hands gripping the ass of an unnamed brunette, his lips connected with hers. There was no denying that it was him, the video that followed showing the two of them pulling away from each other, an intoxicated smirk on the lips of your long-term boyfriend.

You didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know if it was worth sending the proof to him, whether you should call him and ask him outright or act like it was all fake. The emotions were running through you so aggressively, you hadn’t even had the chance to properly think through everything.

How could he do this? Why did he think this was okay? How can he tell you he loves you, and then do this? Were you not good enough for him?

The variety of thoughts continued to cipher through your mind. Your body was begging your brain to stop, begging it to give you a moment to get a grip on reality, begging it to allow you a moment to think clearly.

You barely heard the repetitive knock on the door, the noises mixing in with the unrelenting thumping noises clouding your ears.

Oscar had a key to the apartment, always had. He always claimed it was a ‘safety measure’ and he needed to have one in case anything happened, or in case he ever had to get you into your apartment after a night out.

Most of the time it was used because you weren’t answering a message quick enough, and he wanted to spend time with you. 

He had been messaging you since this morning, offering to bring you pastries from your favourite bakery, asking if you wanted to get lunch, had asked more than once if everything was alright. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his eyes when he realized why you weren’t answering him.

You had been friends for years, longer than any of your other friendships, had known him almost double the amount of time you knew Arthur. He had tried more than once to explain how disastrous dating the Monegasque could end up, but his attempts were futile. You were too stubborn to listen to him, too enamoured to believe that Arthur could be anything except lovely.

There was barely a thought in his mind before he was making his way to your apartment, aggressively knocking on the door; practically begging to be let in. He knew you were in there, could hear the soft sounds of you crying through the door, his heart breaking with every vicious sob he heard through the wood.

It didn’t take him long to find his key, pushing open the door with a bated breath, unsure as to the scene he was about to walk into.

You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, your body having begun the process of curling in on itself, trying to savour any sense of peace it could gather. Oscar felt his stomach drop when he finally made eye contact with you, the puffiness of them so obvious, the tears still clouding your vision.

“Oh, love. C’mere, I’ve got you.”

A small whimper left your lips as he sat down on the couch next to you, gently tugging your body into his. Your hand clutched onto his shirt, the tears still falling from your eyes instantly soaking the material when you pressed your head to his shoulder. 

“Why’d he do this to me, Osc? Was I not good enough for him? What did I do to deserve this?”

Every other word punctuated with a cry or a sniffle prompted a small grimace onto his features. The pit in his stomach grew worse and worse with every word that fell from your mouth, his own heart breaking again as he tried to console you.

“You’re more than good enough for him, I’ve been saying for years you’re too good for him. You didn’t deserve this, at all. He’s a piece of shit,” he said.

His hands continued to rub up and down your exposed arms, your tears subsiding as you melted into his comfort. The grogginess was still prevalent in your head, your eyes puffy, your brain still trying to get a grasp of what was going on; but all you could focus on was the calluses on Oscar’s fingers catching on your skin, the heave of his chest as he cuddled you closer.

He was always the first person there for you, even without having to pick up the phone and ask him to be. For him, you always came first, above racing, above his friends; he would drop everything he was doing and run to you if you asked. He would never admit that, though, ever.

“I wish it was you all those years ago, Osc. You would’ve never done this to me,” you said.

Oscar felt his own heart splitting in two. You were right, he wished it was him all those years ago, too. 

i did NOT know where to go with this one!!!! so angsty and sadness it is!!!!! sorry!!!!

[intothegenshinworld]

Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 13 || The heavens and us

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 3k+

Auteurs note: We ballin!!

↺ PREVIOUS CHAPTER || ↻ NEXT CHAPTER || MASTERLIST

The people on the street are in a state of panic, and rightfully so. 

In the not-so-far distance, it’s becoming more obvious that whatever went on between the Jade Chamber and the rising waves had affected Liyue Harbor in its entirety. 

In between the mountains, the Jade Chamber lays in ruin. Even before hitting the ground, it has been fragmented into multiple chunks. And with no walls to keep all of its previous furniture inside, its contents litters throughout the paths in the surrounding area.

For a while longer, smoke surges from the wreckage—as the initial fall had set fire to the cloths and paper inside. Candles had been tossed over and caught whatever they could during the fall, burning all of the silk tapestries with the Creator’s face and history until it leaves nothing but dust in its wake.

The harbour doesn’t fare better under the destruction. 

The people in the area have had enough time to evacuate, but the docking boats and multiple shops are flooded, destroyed by the large waves that came crashing down not too long ago.

ㅤ

Often when reaching this point, you’d find out that the Adepti and the Qixing assisted the newly reborn geo Archon with his task of protecting his city. 

However, you will never find out why they are bound to fail.

Going south from Wangshu Inn, leads you through the Guili Plains once more. Your previous journey through this area had been relaxed, with little to none interactions from anyone aside from Lumine, Paimon, and Dainsleif. But with pandemonium reigning the nation ever since the Jade Chamber fell, you aren’t surprised to see the crowds grow thicker. 

Around you, people are both leaving and heading towards Liyue Harbor. You aren’t certain why anyone would be going towards the city in its current state, but you assume it has to do with people believing in the geo Archon and seeking shelter in times of uncertainty.

Of course, you are part of the same group, but your reasons for heading towards Liyue Harbor are quite different. 

Earlier, you had remembered an interaction with a certain someone who could give you clarity on the current situation. 

"Call my name." 

A hand holds yours in a gentle but firm hold.  The workers in Wangshu Inn had been occupied well before sunrise, but the morning remained fresh. Rays of sunlight hit the side of Xiao’s face, bringing forward the teal streaks in his hair and a golden shimmer in his eyes. 

His expression holds concern for something. You don’t ask him about it.

Xiao speaks again. His voice sounds clearer this time. 

"Call my name if you need me."

You’ve spent more than enough time with Xiao to know that he would help you if you needed it. Like when he suspected the Fatui to be a danger, or when he teleported you away when the Jade Chamber fell down—he'd always been there for you.

Another reason for you to remember him was the fact that the Adeptus would be at the geo Archon’s side. If you called out his name, he could tell you what was going on in Liyue Harbor.

However, when you call out his name, he doesn’t answer.

“Xiao?” You say it again, this time a bit louder.

You’re unsure if you should be concerned about the silence that follows. He’s proven to be capable of handling many difficult situations but something within makes you feel uneasy at the lack of response. 

The white haired pixie floats over to your side.

“Maybe he is busy? Whatever lights we saw flash out from the Jade Chamber during the fight, it had to have been elemental energy. Paimon thinks the Adepti might’ve helped during the battle.” Paimon turns away to face Lumine, who’s busy trying to keep the chaos at a distance from the three of you. 

And as you follow your eyes in the outlander’s direction, a strangely familiar carriage flies by. 

For a moment, your attention is captured. Instead of Lumine, your eyes are glued to the vehicle.  

At first glance, it doesn’t look extraordinary. It has a simple wooden base with a white frame, made out of cloth, perched atop it, keeping the contents inside hidden. And as you look at it, you realise that instead of the carriage looking familiar to you, it’s the man with fiery red hair that chimes familiarity. 

With a stern and concentrated look, he rides the horse that pulls the carriage along. The stranger’s red eyes are always focused in front of him to make sure no accidents were caused by the chaos on the roads. 

And then his eyes move to you. 

Your cloak should’ve been concealing you, but with the mass panic, you had assumed no one would be concerned about your resemblance to the creator. Everyone would’ve been distracted and no one should’ve noticed you. Unless they felt your aura. 

So, did he?

The moment passes as quickly as it came, for the carriage nor the red haired man stops to confirm your suspicions. Instead, a small hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts once more.

With a smile, Paimon gently tugs the cloak down for you, and once she finishes, you return your mind to the current situation: Xiao being unresponsive as Liyue Harbor remains in shambles. 

You frown, an expression that remains hidden since no one can see your face with the fabric casting a shadow over it. At last, you respond to Paimon. “Xiao might be busy, but that doesn’t help our current situation.”

Lumine looks at Paimon and then turns to you. She seems hesitant and takes a second to speak up. “Is the gnosis still working?”

Your eyes fall upon the orange rays escaping the fingers that encase the object. A soft hum of recognition is sent in response. “I think so. It’s been pulling me along towards Liyue Harbor.”

The outlander is silent for a second. Once she makes sure the crowds are safe, Lumine walks over to you. “Is there a chance that the geo Archon still has power over it?”

Confusion makes you stumble over your first words. “No. If he could, he would’ve told me or helped me with regaining my memories.” 

Then, she explains her questions. “I think Paimon was right. It might be worth it to follow the gnosis’s pull for now.” Lumine looks at the gnosis before her eyes trail back to you. She continues to talk,

“Perhaps you did resonate with it. Your aura has been growing weaker ever since we left camp in the morning, so the gnosis might’ve been absorbing your aura so it can communicate.”

Indifferently, you nod. “Maybe. Either way, we should continue. The crowds don’t seem to calm down and we’ll never know the reasoning behind the gnosis’ activation if we stop now.”

A while back, when Paimon had expressed her theory about the gnosis needing to recognise your aura, you felt like you were one step closer to figuring out what you needed to do. 

Somehow, that feeling of excitement and relief was now gone.

If you were honest with yourself, you’ve forgotten why your lost memories were supposed to be troublesome in the first place. If the geo Archon recognised you, wasn’t that enough? You are the Creator, after all. 

But then again,

if you are Teyvat’s Creator, 

where did you come from?

As you approach Liyue Harbor,  an eerie absence invades the landscape that surrounds you. Not a single soul or creature is in sight—a stark contrast to the bustling roads you previously experienced. You halt to look at Lumine after you’ve observed the roads. 

“Where did you think they went?” You ask.

She stops in her tracks. “The people?”

You nod. 

“The people…” Lumine scans the empty streets. The treelines separating you from the wilderness of the Guili Plains are completely abandoned. No birds are flying in the sky and there are no tracks of anyone else having passed this area. 

It is just you, her, and Paimon. 

“I’m not sure,” she admits.

“Paimon knows!” Your white haired eagerly interjects. “The geo Archon must’ve evacuated them.”

Your grip tightens on the gnosis, its weight a reminder of the journey ahead. 

A despondent expression settles onto your face as you caress the metal outlines separating you from the contained geo energy within. The godly object whines at your standstill, urging you to continue now that your destination is within reach. 

Despite Paimon's optimism, a nagging doubt gnaws at your resolve. It might’ve been the pull from the gnosis, or the fact that you had no idea what just occurred, but you needed to move forward.

You hear soft footsteps move in your direction until Lumine stands next to you on the hill. Her eyes follow your gaze to Liyue Harbor.

From here, everything looks still. The smoke from between the mountains has calmed down and the waters are quiet. But however still it might look, destruction is evident the longer you look at the view in front of you. 

Somehow, with Lumine by your side, you feel more confident. And despite her own destiny, time and time again, she has chosen to stand with you. It’s something you can’t properly appreciate because it means too much to you. 

Your mind drifts to Dainsleif and your last interactions with him. 

You feel bothered about his departure. Sure, there was something peculiar about him, something you couldn’t figure out, but he made you feel at home. Despite the time spent with him being sparse, it felt like you should’ve known him—as if you had met before. 

His entire appearance and disappearance felt like a puzzle you can’t quite solve. 

Why did he leave?

But with a more urgent mystery ahead, and things appearing to be more complicated as time passes, you decide to push him and your doubts aside to focus on the problem in front of you.

“Do you have any idea why those waves emerged?” You ask Lumine. 

“No.” she moves her head sideways to look at you. Her blonde hair flies over her shoulders when a soft breeze passes you. She furrows her eyebrows slightly before they relax again. Her golden eyes shine in the golden hour. “I'm not sure. Do you think that the gnosis activating is connected to all of this?”

Without looking at it, you brush your finger over the object. Its gleam has turned into a beautiful golden colour, mirroring the sun and Lumine’s radiance, growing brighter the closer you get to Liyue Harbor. The small thing continues to be a mystery to seemingly everyone around you—even the geo Archon. Aside from saving Liyue Harbor, going back with the knowledge of knowing that you’ve potentially resonated with it…

Somehow everything seemed to be falling into place.

After a moment, you remove the cloak from your head. With ease, Lumine’s eyes find yours. “I’m not sure why, but the gnosis becomes intenser the closer we get. It must mean something , at the very least.” You respond.

Paimon chimes in from Lumine’s other side with an encouraging tone. “I’m sure we can uncover what happened in the city if we work together!”

The pixie’s smile is bright and infectious, a stark contrast to your doubt, and yet it never fails to make you feel more at ease. 

Facing away from the view, you respond.

“Let’s continue. The journey won’t be long anymore.”

Somewhere between your last stop and the waypoint that’s on the hill before Liyue Harbor, the gnosis starts to freak out. The pulsations that it produces becomes less controlled— frenzied. 

If you hadn’t felt its usually softer vibrations prior to this moment, you would’ve thought the shakes were coming from an earthquake. Unfortunately, you are familiar with this feeling and know something is about to go terribly wrong.

“Wait, we need to stop.” You stand with shaking legs upon the stone and dirt below your feet. These convulsions are not coming from the city, but your hand. 

A second after you feel it, Lumine’s hands extend to her sides as she tries to balance herself. Her eyes are wide, before they dart around, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

You call out to her. “The gnosis, something is wrong!”

“What?” Her voice fades as the geo energy energy becomes louder. A buzzing sound gives you a headache. You watch Paimon lift her hands to her ears as she shakes in the air. 

Again, you try to call out. “The gnosis!”

Lumine tries to reach her hand out towards you. While you were travelling, you and Paimon walked behind her. Conversing while she kept her eyes open for danger. Now, you regretted the distance between you and her. 

You reach your free hand out to her, but then a deep rumble erupts followed by the ground shaking. Perhaps due to its suddenness, or the sheer power behind it, you stumble forward and then down. Your knees hit the ground first, and you brace yourself with your palms forward when the earth convulses again. 

The air from your lungs forcefully escapes your lips when Paimon lands on your back right after. She is much smaller than you are, so it doesn’t damage you any further, but it gives you discomfort and more disorientation. 

After a second of recovery, you pull your head up from the dirt. 

A short distance separated from you, you see the gnosis lying between small pebbles and rocks on the ground. Its golden glow shines brighter than the twilight sky, and then it dims again to a soft orange glow, before it radiates the same liquid gold as before. 

Something is wrong. Something is really really wrong.

Paimon is still recovering from her fall when you gather your arms below your chin. While the ground continues to shake with vigour, you’re able to get yourself up halfway with a push to your limbs, making the pixie on your back roll to the side and fall next to you.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Lumine down on the ground as well. She sits a few meters away from you with her hands stabilising her body at her sides. The outlander seems to have taken less of a fall than either you or Paimon did, so her agility must have aided her somehow. 

Be that as it may, something is wrong with her too . Her eyes are fixated on the skies and she seems to be caught in a stupor.  

Without the weight of a child on your back, you have free reign to move and grab the gnosis. You refocus your mind and you crawl over. 

While the ground shaking below makes it harder to reach, it’s only a few arm-lengths away. Surprisingly, the object itself doesn’t seem affected by the vibrations. But perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising at all, considering it was made out of pure geo energy.

You stretch your arm forward and fingers curl around the gnosis. Soft flesh touches the metal, and right as you’re about to close your hold, it dissipates. 

Soft dust escapes your fingers and your eyes widen as your mouth falls open in disbelief. 

It doesn't make sense. How can a gnosis suddenly disappear in front of you? 

Your fingers grasp at the ground below, desperately trying to catch the pixels of what remains before the gnosis is fully gone. 

A flicker of vulnerability flashes through your eyes. The gnosis was your only current lead but it’s now lost, leaving you with an empty feeling. Then, your eyebrows furrow together, trying with all your power to cling to your composure and fight the storm of frustration and disconsolation raging within. 

You bite your lip when the corners of your mouth begin to tremble. With each passing moment, tension rises in your body, and then before you can break, Lumine grabs your arm and yanks you up. 

“We need to run!” Lumine looks over her shoulder, and when you follow her gaze—you see it.

An elongated structure was descending from the heavens to the ground below. With it came a palpable tension that suffused the air, thickening it with each passing second. The massive silhouette of the nail-like stone loomed ominously against the twilight sky, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow Liyue Harbor whole. 

As it continues to plummet, the ground below quivers beneath its impending impact, shaking in fear and anticipation of the cataclysm to come. 

Lumine's grip tightens on your arm. Her urgency acts as a silent plea for swift action. With every step forward, the weight of what is to come presses down upon you, urging you to hasten your escape despite the burn on your knees. 

Paimon too, is at your side. She flutters anxiously, her voice lost amidst the chaos as the world seems to hold its breath. 

Then, a deafening roar that could shake the very foundations of Teyvat itself echoes through the area as the object strikes the ground with an unfathomable force. The impact reverberates through the air, sending shockwaves in all directions. Dust and debris rise up from the area of impact, obscuring the horizon in a shroud of darkness as the ground trembles beneath your feet.  

Amid the chaos, time stands still. Flames writhe and twist amidst the smoke, painting the once blue and purple sky in hues of orange and red. Blow, the city succumbs to destruction. What once was a thriving and fortunate city, would be covered by dust before the end of the night. 

In this moment, a dreadful realisation settles in. 

Even if you had arrived in Liyue Harbor before this cataclysm, you never would've been able to protect its people— yourself . 

Reality itself seems to shatter under the weight of the unfolding tragedy. The sky unravels before your eyes as black streaks shatter the world. With a desperate cry, Lumine's grip on your arm falters, her strength wavering against the soundwave that hits you.

As the world blurs into darkness, a sense of helplessness grips at your very being, forcing you to face whatever may come next even as the world breaks apart around you. And despite the destruction cradling your very being, a single voice stands out—,

ㅤ

“[Y/N].”

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

© intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.

[michelle-is-writing]

Sick, Ben Hardy

Word Count: 1.2k~

Saturday nights are always date nights for me and Ben. No matter what, we always go out and do something fun together. We'll go to dinner, watch a movie, see a game, anything that sounds like a good time. We always make an effort, and nothing ever stops us from spending time together.

However, as I lay in my bed with nonstop nausea filling my throat and stomach, I feel the need to cancel for tonight. During the seven months that we've been dating, neither of us have ever canceled a Friday night, and that's always something I love about us. Once again, we always make time for each other, so when I think about calling Ben and saying I can't go tonight, I feel even worse.

Reluctantly pressing the green button on Ben's contact, I hold my phone up to my ear and listen to the ringing tone as I wait for him to pick up. As more seconds pass, I find myself trying to hug my blankets as close to me as I can while my body begins to shiver. This stomach pain is starting to cause me to feel cold as well, and it sucks.

"Hello, darling," I hear Ben's voice pick up after the second ring, making me smile. I always love hearing his voice. It carries this tone of protection in it that gives off a feeling of happiness at the same time. "Are you ready for our date?"

At his question, I close my eyes and swallow down the guilt that rises to my throat as my smile lowers into a frown. He sounds so happy - excited, almost. Do I really have to take that away from him? All because of something that could probably be treated with medicine?

As soon as the thought of maybe suffering through the pain and going on a date, another stomach cramp pushes into me, making me almost hunch over in my bed to get through the pain. "Actually, Ben," I start, my free arm wrapping around my stomach as the stinging sensation passes. "I was calling to tell you that I can't come," I explain, my ears almost catching the sound of his heart breaking through the phone speaker. "I think I caught food poisoning from my friend's food at dinner we went to the other night."

"I ate it, and I seem fine," He tells me, his words making me shake my head with an amused smile.

"That's because you have an iron stomach, Ben," I joke, hearing him chuckle on the other end. "And, besides, if you can eat your own cooking, then you can eat practically anything."

"Oi!" Ben dramatically exclaims as if my words hit him with a punch. I laugh at his silliness. "Such harsh and hurtful words from the woman I love!" He further chides as I clench my already hurting stomach from laughing. He soon joins in on the laughing before speaking once more. "But that's alright love. I understand you're not feeling well. I love you! And I'll be over in ten minutes."

Just as quick as he said his last words, he hangs up, leaving me to stare across the room with wide eyes as my phone remains resting in my hand, Ben's picture flashing once before the screen goes dark. Did he really just pull a fast one on me? Just like that?

While thinking about Ben, yet another wave of nausea rolls over me, causing me to turn onto my side with my knees close to my chest, a pained groan escaping my lips at the same time. What if this isn't food poisoning, and it's something contagious, and I accidentally give it to Ben? It's not that I don't want him coming over (I'm glad that he is), but the last thing I want to do is make him sick as well.

For what feels like an eternity, I lay on my sides, switching between the two when another cramp comes along. It isn't long before I hear keys being inserted into my front door, twisting and turning before the piece of wood opens and closes a few short seconds later. Footsteps sound throughout my tiny apartment until my bedroom door gently opens, a head full of blond hair and shining blue eyes staring back at me as I smile from my current predicament on the bed.

"There she is," Ben says with a sweet smile. Wearing a plain grey t-shirt and black sweats, he takes one step into my room before happily sighing. "And just as beautiful as ever."

Blushing, I roll my eyes and flop onto my other side to dramatically turn my back to him, only receiving a laugh back before I feel his warm body settle behind my cold one. As soon as he touches me, it's as if all of my nausea and cramping dissipate, the warmth from his body acting as a heating pad for my achey body.

Ben wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to his body as he kisses my temple, his lips soft and warm like fresh pastries. At his sweet affection, I smile even more and raise my hands to rest on top of his, only for him to interlock our fingers together. Even when I'm sick and not able to do the things we usually do, he's still the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.

"Would you like me to make you some soup?" Ben asks, leaning down to nuzzle his face in my neck. Underneath the covers, his legs intertwine with mine, bringing me just enough warmth to stop shivering so bad.

"No, just lay here with me, please," I tell him, snuggling my body further in his hold as a soft sigh escapes my lips. There's nothing better than lying in the arms of the person you love - especially if they're a natural heater.

"Oh, and like I said earlier," I begin, remembering our earlier conversation. "Your cooking is something special," I remind Ben with a smirk, listening as he snickers behind me. Okay, maybe there's nothing better lying in the arms of your boyfriend and teasing him for his helpless qualities.

"I can put on a video or something, go off of that," Ben suggests, leaning his head over mine to cuddle closer to the front of my neck. "Or, I could be safe and just order something," he offers, making me smile.

"That would be nice," I tell Ben, nodding my head. Just as he goes to get up to grab his phone presumably, I tug him back down and snuggle even further into him. "In five minutes, of course," I clarify, hearing him snicker behind me again.

With a simple "okay," Ben gets himself comfortable once more before resuming holding me close. I guess no matter what, Saturday nights will always be our night and not even a stupid stomach bug can stop that.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part Five)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Daddy Issues

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

"I am sorry I have not texted you since Sunday. Danielle knows about me having an affair and I have been thinking about my options," he texted you, his thumbs typing rapidly on his phone. His message was plain and simple and you always knew that your secret encounters had an expiry date. 

"I understand. You should focus on your marriage first and foremost," you wrote back, trying to sound supportive, but what he responded with surprised you.

"I do, but I also need to see you again" you received, the unexpected message causing your heart to skip a beat and, while you considered your response, another message popped up on your screen.

"I want to fuck you one last time at least," Cillian he wrote before sending you a third message. "Using your yet unexplored hole" he stated boldly in his last text message to you, causing you to drop your phone.

The unexpected demand left you reeling, your heart racing as you wondered how far he would go. It seemed his infatuation with you knew no bounds, his desires escalating beyond anything you could have imagined. And yet, you found yourself wanting to give in to his demands, your curiosity piqued by the thought of taking things even further.

"Okay," you eventually typed back, your fingers trembling as you considered what else to say to him.

"When and where?" you then asked, intrigued by the idea of giving in to his desires.

"Tomorrow night at your house," he replied quickly, his fingers flying across the keys, knowing that both of your parents were on nightshift that day.

"Okay," you texted back again. "How about eight?" you responded quickly. 

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. Were you ready to take this intimate affair to such a daring level? And yet, there was something undeniably enticing about pushing boundaries with someone like Cillian, who seemed to share your appetite for adventure.

"Eight sounds good. See you tomorrow night," Cillian sent back and your pulse began quickening with anticipation.

***

You spent the rest of the day with your friend Emma, shopping for lingerie and other things and, just as you looked through something nice to wear, you brought up Cillian's request.

"Have you ever had anal sex?" you whispered to her while she unpacked her shopping bags. Your cheeks turned crimson as you said it, suddenly regretting your choice of words.

"Oh god, no, I haven't," she admitted hesitantly, looking at you with wide eyes. "Why?" she then asked, and you began to blush.

"No reason," you stammered while taking a good look at the black lace lingerie you had purchased for tomorrow's encounter.

"Does he want you to try it?" Emma asked, her eyes widening, and you nodded reluctantly, a tender blush creeping across your cheeks.

"Has he done it before?" Emma asked, clearly curious about his experience.

"Not with me," you replied quietly, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement about the idea. "But he seems experienced, so I would say yes, maybe with his wife or some other older woman he has been with," you explained, not trying to think about Cillian having sex with anyone else.

"Honestly, I have heard that it hurts, a lot but for a man like him, I would probably just take the pain," Emma laughed, knowing very well how attracted you felt towards Cillian. 

"Well, I guess I can handle some pain," you said, a hint of bravery coloring your tone. "Besides, it's only one last time," you told her, and Emma nodded in agreement, understanding the impulse to explore new territories, especially when fueled by intense feelings towards someone like Cillian.

"One last time, huh?" she asked nonetheless, not believing a word you had just said and you nodded again.

"Yes, one last time. This has to end. It's becoming too dangerous for him," you explained, telling her that his wife knows about him cheating on her, although she did not know who with. 

****

Later that night, when you arrived home, you found your mother had already prepared dinner, setting the table with your favorite foods - steak, potatoes, and fresh vegetables.

The smell of cooking wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble. Your parents usually ate together at night, leaving plenty of leftovers for you. Tonight, however, you didn't have much of an appetite. Instead, you went straight to your room, undressing slowly, savoring the anticipation building within you. You slipped into the black lace lingerie Emma had helped you pick out earlier, admiring your reflection in the mirror. You felt incredibly sexy, your skin flushed with desire.

Tomorrow night, you knew that this new acquisition would come in handy, making you look incredible for your older lover.

As you drifted off to sleep, images of Cillian danced in your dreams, his hair tousled from our encounter, his strong hands possessing you completely.

Your body ached with longing, your desire growing stronger by the minute as, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

You slipped on a robe, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you opened the door to find Cillian standing there, accompanied by his wife Danielle. 

"Come inside," you breathed, beckoning them in, your heart pounding erratically in your chest, thinking that Danielle knew about your affair with her husband. 

"Everything alright?" you then asked, glancing at Danielle, who was standing next to Cillian. She gave you a faint smile, seemingly unfazed by your question. 

"Yeah, everything's fine," she replied casually, turning away and heading towards the kitchen.

You watched her go, a sense of unease settling in your gut. "What brings you here tonight?" you asked Cillian, unable to ignore the elephant in the room.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. 

"I am here to see Frank," he said, unphased and somewhat casually, ignoring your presence. 

"He's asleep. Shall I wake him?" you asked, causing Cillian to nod, his eyes saddened. 

You did as he asked and walked upstairs, waking up Frank and your mother, Sarah and, after about two minutes, they both stormed downstairs where Cillian and Danielle were waiting for them.

"What happened?" Frank asked, panicking, before Cillian spoke. His heart was heavy.

"Aunt Linda passed away today,"

Cillian said, looking somber. His voice cracked slightly, revealing his deep sorrow. Sarah and Frank exchanged worried glances, not knowing how to comfort their guest.

"I am so sorry for your loss Frank, and Cillian of course," Sarah expressed, offering her condolences. Cillian nodded in agreement, appearing sympathetic but also distant.

He had never been as close to his aunt, but Frank lived with her for three years while studying in London at the time and thus Cillian knew his brother would be affected by the news.

Frank took a moment to compose himself, clearing his throat before speaking.

"When is the funeral?" he asked, his voice shivering slightly.

"On Saturday, back in Cork," Cillian replied and Frank nodded.

Cillian understood that his aunt's funeral wouldn't be an easy event, particularly for Frank, who had been closer to her than him. "Will you be okay?" he thus asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, I will be," Frank answered softly, giving Cillian a small smile before continuing. "We'll stay with family, spend some time together, yes?" he asked, causing Cillian to nod.

"Danielle and I will be driving down to Cork on Friday. Max is staying with Danielle's mum and, if you want, you can stay with us at the house in Cobh," Cillian suggested gently, trying to provide comfort to his brother. He knew how much the aunt meant to Frank.

"That would be great, thank you," Frank responded gratefully, reaching out to clasp Cillian's shoulder briefly, their gazes locking for a brief moment.

"Can I bring Sarah and Y/N?" Frank asked, looking over at your mother who nodded and said that she would be taking the weekend off work to support him.

"Thank you, Sarah," Frank smiled, his voice full of gratitude. Turning back to Cillian, he continued, "And, Cillian, thanks letting us stay with you and Danielle."

"Of course," Cillian nodded, his face expressing relief at seeing his brother accepting his help while Danielle glared at you with a sense of unease.

Her jealousy was palpable, her eyes filled with suspicion. You could almost taste the venom dripping from her tongue as she turned her attention back to Cillian, who pretended not to notice.

Did she know, you wondered, sensing her apprehension towards you, or did she simply dislike the fact that her husband was a well sought after man, attracting a wide array of women across different age groups.

Whatever the case, you couldn't help but feel the cold glare she shot at you whenever you were around, and now, as the five of you sat around the dining table discussing arrangements for Aunt Linda's funeral, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Y/N, would you please get us some water?" your mother interrupted your thoughts.

She needed a break from the somber conversation, and you obliged, getting up from your seat to fetch a pitcher of water from the kitchen. You refilled four glasses, handing one to each person sitting around the table. As you served everyone, you noticed Danielle staring at you with an expression that bordered on contempt. Her eyes were hard, her lips pursed tightly, and her hands clenched into fists underneath the table.

"Thank you," she said nonetheless, her voice laced with caution. "For the water, I mean," she added quickly, catching herself before revealing more than she intended.

You nodded silently, turning away from her hostile gaze.

You returned to your seat, feeling the weight of her disapproval pressing heavily upon you.

Cillian looked at his watch and sighed. "It's late," he stated. "We should all get some rest. We have a busy day ahead tomorrow."

"Indeed," agreed Frank, stretching his arms and yawning.

"I will see you out. Thanks for coming all the way to tell us in person," he then went on to say to his brother who gave Frank a tight hug. 

"Any time man," Cillian said before, eventually, leaving you be.

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

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[rip-quizilla]

I'm Not Crying, You're Crying (Eddie Cries While Watching Tarzan)

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 27: You'll Be In My Heart

WC: 653

A/N: Okay... so I may have gone a bit rogue on this one. I know the prompt list explained this one as 'navigating love on the road', but when I hear the words You'll Be In My Heart I can't think of anything BUT Tarzan. So here's the weird little bit of fluff I came up with.

Tags: College!Corroded Coffin, crying, Eddie thinking about motherhood and the role it's played in his life, surprise at the end. It's an AU... but not the way you might think.

Divider created by @strangergraphics

In one of the smallest dorm rooms on the USI campus, four twenty-somethings had gathered around a glowing screen on a rainy Tuesday night.

“Wait, she’s taking the baby into a fucking tree?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Yes, Grant, she’s a gorilla. Gorillas climb trees sometimes.”

“But what if she drops it?”

Gareth scoffed, chiming in. “This is a Disney movie, idiot, that isn’t gonna happen.”

“I just watched a baby gorilla get mauled by a cheetah!” Grant yelled, incredulity plain on his face as he pointed to the TV. “You think they’d show that but draw the line at babies falling from trees?”

“A leopard mauled the baby gorilla.” Jeff corrected. “Cheetahs live in the savannah, dumbass.” 

“Would you all kindly shut the fuck up?” Eddie silenced them all, eyes trained on the TV with rapt attention as he watched Kala climb up the gnarled branches of a jungle tree, Phil Collins’ You’ll Be In My Heart crooning through the speakers. “You’re missing it.”

The other three looked at each other, confused but too scared to ask why he cared so much about some kids' movie, and continued to watch until-

“Dude, are you crying?”

“No!” Eddie sniffed, wiping furiously at his eyes. “You’re crying!”

Gareth’s nose scrunched up. “Bro, nothing sad is even happening, the mom got a new baby and the baby got a new mom-”

“They’re happy tears, jerkwad!” Eddie bit back, punctuating his reply with another sniffle. “This whole scene is about motherhood and loving your kid no matter what and it’s fucking beautiful, if you had a heart you’d be crying too!”

Jeff and Grant were laughing- to their credit, it was quietly and mostly to themselves. Gareth put on a mask of mock-sympathy as he grabbed a tissue and handed it to Eddie. “Those are some big feelings you’re having there, huh buddy?”

Eddie scowled at Gareth, swiping the tissue from him aggressively. He blew his nose into it, but not without giving Gare the finger first. 

Gareth patted Eddie’s back. “That’s okay, let it out big guy.” 

Eventually, the chuckling subsided until everyone’s focus returned to the movie. However, that scene still lingered in Eddie’s mind- the message about motherhood that this movie drove home for him every time he watched it. How Tarzan wouldn’t have grown into the man he was without Kala; a man so sure of his decisions, who trusted himself because his mother trusted him first. How no matter what happened, she stood by him and allowed him to chart his own course in life. 

Discreetly, Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping on his screen until he’d opened up a text thread. Quickly, he typed out a message. 

Love you, mom ❤️

The reply was instant, as it always was. 

I love you too bud! Everything okay?

Eddie smiled to himself as he typed out his response.

Yeah, all good! Just feeling extra thankful for my mom today :)

He turned his eyes back to the movie after hitting send, keeping his attention on the screen until he felt his phone buzz once, then again a few seconds later.

Aw, buddy! 🥹 That made my day!

I’m so proud of the man you’ve grown up to be. I raised a good one 😌

Eddie smiled, pride blooming in his chest. He and his mom had been through a lot, but they’d made it through because they’d had each other. Eddie couldn’t imagine what life might have been like for him if he hadn’t had her by his side. Who would he be? What kind of man would Eddie Munson have become? 

Now, here he was at college with his friends- his band- with a world of possibilities ripe for his picking. Could he have even gotten here without her support every step of the way? 

Maybe, he thought, but I would have been a hell of a lot more lonely.

[pussydestroyer10110]

The screen flashes to life after a while showing this was an older model, the video then appeared on the screen revealing a man with cropped hair and an unimpressed look on his face. This was Jake Sully - the man you had heard so much about but never actually seen.

Jake x Avatar!reader x Neytiri

Someone please tell me how to easily do a word count

Chapter 2 - Nearly at the good bits

(Thank you to everyone that supported the first chapter!)

♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡

After a while longer of staring up at your Na'vi body, you realise you've been left alone, a note left on the table beside a computer. The note had said to turn on the computer as Norm had set up a few old call logs for you to study, the infamous call logs of Jake Sully.

You watched his call logs and like your friend you are baffled about how a seemingly uninterested and simple man like himself managed to climb the ranks of the Omaticayan hierarchy. You were rapt with the videos, watching as the call logs switched from the plain and simple base to the old shacks up in the Hallelujah Mountains, you truly envied him.

What caught your interest about his logs was the evolution of the bond between him and Grace, you could see the disapproval in her eyes as he called the treasured plants of Pandora 'glowing things'. Then you saw how over time he became sickly looking with Grace reprimanding him, the former marine had been lured in by Pandora and now couldn't escape.

The logs only made you more excited to view the outside world through you're newly crafted yellow eyes. However you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of going out into Pandora alone with no one to experience this with you.

Soon enough the call logs ended so you rose from your seat feeling a numbness begin to course through your legs. You left the link/incubation room and went into the main communal area where the rest of the newbies sat along with the seasoned scientists, dinner was about to start and the food looked strange.

The food was a combination of both earth and Pandoran food, a new shipment of packaged goods having come in with your arrival, the earth food made up a few bits of dried beans and rice while the Pandoran food consisted of a strange meat. The meat was almost purple in colouration even after it had been skinned, when it was placed on the pan it sizzled violently before developing a charred surface signifying it was ready to be eaten.

A few people you had yet to know the names of, evenly cut the meat into strips and placed it on top of the beans and rice then the bowls were passed around the circle. You got your bowl last as you had sat on the end. You prodded the meat with your fork, it had the same texture of meat back home by the looks of it but you were still skeptical.

"What type of meat is this?"

You asked the question out of curiosity, open to the new experience.

"Hexapede"

The cook replies giving you a soft smile. You had studied Pandoran wildlife and recalled the hexapede as a deer like creature that roamed the forest of Pandora, a common delicacy amongst the natives.

"The Sully family gave it to us a gift, they still visit often to check up on things"

Norm explains to us and you immediately think of the call logs. This meat was provided by the man you had been watching mere minutes ago, except it wasn't him as he had transferred his conscience into his avatar. He had become one of the people.

Norm then makes a sound as if he'd just remembered something, he finished his mouthful before turning to you.

"I forgot to tell you, Jake will come to the lab tomorrow and meet you, he will help you around for a bit when you finally take out your avatar"

You look at him in shock which quickly turned into excitement, you couldn't believe it.

"Really?"

You ask almost not wanting to believe it incase he was just pulling your leg. But you were soon reassured by the chuckle Norm let out and then further confirmation that he was in fact being serious, you were going to meet Jake Sully.

Once your excitement wears off slightly you finally begin to eat your food. The meat was slightly tougher than what you were used to, it had a strong meaty flavour which you could dilute with the accompaniment of the rice and beans, it tasted almost primal. The meat back home is bred to be tender and of a certain flavour but this was obviously meat that had never been tampered with.

The main meal was followed by a dessert of new fruits. Each fruit opened was more vibrant with some being yellow, some pink and some even blue; each fruit hid its colourful flesh in either a dull skin or armoured shell, hiding its beauty and food to potential predators.

The fruits were handed around like the previous meal and you happily tried each fruit. The pink one reminded you of a sweet grape, the yellow like a mango and the blue was slightly bitter that ended with a creamy aftertaste - most similar to a slightly underripe avocado.

You enjoyed the fruits, it made you feel further connected to the foreign world even though you had yet to step foot on its soil.

The group soon dispersed and the newbies were lead to the sleeping quarters, you following. Everything seemed quite bare and basic with the sleeping quarters consisting of hammocks and army type beds in contrast the blankets were thickly quilted as the nights of Pandora often brought a chill.

You climbed into your hammock and soon fell asleep, dreaming of finally becoming your avatar tomorrow.

[wolfydoesstuff]

heeyyyyyy guys

i was doing a writing contest with my friends to make an AvA fic based off of a pre-existing episode. i did the flashback and im actually really proud of this, so without further ado, here it is.

Eye Strain and Hand Pain - The Flashback

TW/CW: swearing, mild blood/gore (i wasn't allowed to do too much), implied cannibalism, implied self-harm

Word count: I don't remember, but somewhere around 2,000

fic below the cut :3

~~~~~

For being a horrible atrocity, the killing spree was pretty fun. The poor civilians' frenzied shrieks, the two siblings' laughs as adrenaline pumped through their veins. Splotches of red covering their clothes, they didn't mind destroying anything they came across.

After all, why would they?

Destruction was all they knew.

Dark took a wheezy breath into his inhaler before tucking back into his stained jacket pocket and flying over to Chosen. He was shouting something incoherent at people running for their lives. 

Dark tapped his shoulder, fidgeting with the broken zipper on his jacket. Chosen spun around, eyes glowing bright crimson. "Un autre ? Ils continuent à venir comme s'ils le voulaient..." (Another one? They keep coming as if they want this...) he said with a manic smile, fading as he realized it was his younger brother.

"Hey, Cho!" Dark said quietly, a smile on his flushed face. "I.. I think we might have to wrap this up.. It's getting dark and my chest hurts a bit." 

Chosen nods, seeming a bit spaced out. 

An offhand comment of "Ever wonder what those fuckers taste like?" and the two siblings found themselves sitting around a campfire. Dark's heavy eyelids eventually closed, his head on Chosen's lap. The latter didn't mind carrying the former home.

~

Dark unclenched his jaw to drink some of his water. It felt good on his dry throat and eased the hunger clawing at his stomach. He hadn't moved from his computer for 14 hours now. 

Originally, the standing desk seemed like a good idea, but Dark's scoliosis has gotten worse over the years and now standing for so long just made his back hurt.

Hence the bottle of ibuprofen beside the computer. He had taken 5 now. 

Staring at the small numbers and letters on his computer screen was giving him a pounding headache that not even the painkillers could help. He ended up having to squint harder than was comfortable to even see much of what he was doing.

But with a final hit of the enter key, Dark was done. He felt like he was going to pass out. A quick glance at a clock told him it was either 10:30 or 1:03. Either way, it didn't matter. He finally finished his project, ending a 2-month hyperfixation. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had eaten or slept, which further explained why everything was aching. He was ready to just curl up on the floor and go to sleep and forget about the world, the animator, the hurt, when Chosen opened his door, even the soft click of the door ringing in Dark's ears. He turned his hearing aids down.

"Dark, I honestly don't care if I have to drag you out of here, you haven't left this room in 14–" Chosen starts, quickly being cut off. "Cho! Cho, I finished! You wanna see? I- I did it! Finally! It'll be just like you.. like we always wanted!"

Chosen chuckled softly. "Alright, alright... Since you say it's 'so incredible.' Just take it down a notch, okay? You're talking really loud." 

Dark rolled his eyes. "Just turn your hearing aids down." He paused. "But- But anygays, I have my thingy to show you!" He darted back to his computer, stimming excitedly. 

"O-okay, okay, so.. So, this is the ViraBot! I've been working on it for, like, 2 months! It can do a ton of- A ton of cool shit! A-and.." Dark's tone was shifting from excited to just plain manic. Chosen placed both hands on his shoulders. "Deep breaths." 

Dark did as he was told and started over with a sigh. "This, my dear brother, is the ViraBot." 

"It looks like a spider, but missing a few legs."

Dark shot Chosen a glare. The latter shrugged.

"But anygays, this thing has a ton of features, like..." Dark typed a couple things on his computer and the ViraBot on the wall suddenly had a bright red spike on the end of its... limb. Dark smiled. "And that's just the start."

He took the spike, its sharp end glinting in the warm sunlight. He forcefully stabbed his globe with the the spike and it immediately dissolved into some bare code, along with its stand. Dark grinned, his coal black eyes shining. "We can destroy the world, Cho. And anyone who would fucking dare hurt us the way that cursor did."

Chosen just stared in horror for a moment, his chest tightening painfully. 

Not another bloodbath.

Not more innocents' screams.

Not more fire and tears and broken bones.

Why would Dark want to go back to that after all this time living normally?

But then again, why wouldn't he?

Pain and death and killing was all he knew.

Dark loaded the ViraBot into its launcher, carefully contained in a red-and-white casing. 

"Dark. We don't have to do this."

Dark's excitement died down for a moment. His smile faltered. "...wh-what?"

He quickly puts his smile back on. "Come on, Cho! It's what we always wanted to do! Obviously we've gotta start with our biggest problem, the..."

"Dark..?"

"...cursor, who can fucking burn in hell. Like, how could he do those things to you? To us? Nobody can just do that..."

"Dark."

"...but I digress, this lil bitch will end up on his computer and fuck him up just as bad as we did! And then I can finally go to sleep. And drink water, it's been a hot minute since I've done that..."

"Dark."

Dark's hand was hovering over the button, either quivering from excitement or just outright shaking from the exhaustion of not sleeping for so long.

"What? Oh, do you wanna press the button? Yeah, that's only fair. After all-"

"Dark, stop."

"But.. What? This is what-"

"Dark, shut up! Have you ever considered that maybe I don't want this? That the whole world doesn't fucking revolve around you and what you want?"

Dark felt the all-too-familiar sting of tears forming in his eyes, but he swallowed and blinked them back. Fine then. Be like that, he thought to himself. I'll just... do it myself..

Shaky hands.

Breath hitching in his throat.

Hand lowers.

Rough hands, firm grip on Dark's shoulders.

"Dark, what did I say? We can't do this!"

Dark wanted to explain to Chosen why they had to, why it would be the best decision ever for them, why he had gotten a total of just 56 hours of sleep in the past two months. But as he prepared the explanation, the words died on his tongue. He couldn't force them out if he tried. 

So he just went for the button again.

This time when he was met with the rough hands, he ended up on 

the cold tile with his nose bleeding, a new crimson stain soaking into the collar of his shirt. He felt his hands heating up and unstifle-able tears welling up in his eyes.

A few seconds later, a wall crumbled.

Just like Chosen and Dark's once perfect relationship.

Soon things devolved into what was pretty much a fistfight, but with a few more broken walls. Everything blurred around Dark as he ran for the button.

His revenge.

His closure.

Only a moment after Dark's palm hit the smooth red plastic, he felt a small explosion and found himself in the air, falling.

"I thought you wanted this."

~

Chosen took a deep, shaky breath as memories of him flooded his mind.

In and out.

Hands ignited.

He got a sort of adrenaline rush from all this, and he hadn't flown in months. It was kind of nice to do it again. Feel the cold wind on this face, see everything from beautiful views.

Maybe once this was all over, he could go fly somewhere. Though, it wouldn't be the the same without Dark...

That's okay, times change. And who knows, maybe he'll-

Impact.

Chosen pulled away from the light blue barrier that the ViraBot had so easily gone through, coughing weakly into his arm.

That's gonna hurt later.

It took a painfully reddened hand to realize that no amount of punching would do anything.

~

Dark felt himself hit the ground with a... Well, he wasn't sure what it sounded like, but it sure as hell could've been the loudest thing he had ever heard. It at least felt that way.

With a soft groan, he rolled over from his back to his side.

"God, I think I broke... everything.." he muttered, taking a few moment to collect his scattered, betrayed, hurt thoughts before picking himself up, pleased with the fact that nothing seemed actually broken at the moment. He quickly looked himself over, wincing as he noticed the sheer state of his body. Through the charred and still warm hole in his shirt, he could see dark, black burns, deep red oozing from melted skin.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit..." Dark stumbled to his old... pitifully small house? Shack? Place...? He was honestly too disoriented to remember what the small structure's original purpose was, and his shaky ankles that, in hindsight, were probably sprained or something, threatened to give out at any moment.

Dark all but collapsed on the floor.

Down on his hands and knees.

Panting.

Saliva dripping from his mouth.

Tears dripping from his eyes.

He dug through the supplies stored under the table and pulled out some disinfectant, a shit ton of bandages, and a spare T-shirt.

He gingerly took off his current, very burnt one and set it aside. It was horrifically bloodstained anyway.

Mentally preparing himself for the burning sensation, he poured some disinfectant straight from the bottle onto the mess of stuff he didn't even want to look at.

Once he figured he had screamed and cried enough, it was onto the bandages.

From experience, bandaging yourself can be difficult, but not impossible after enough practice. Now, if your skin just stopped actively melting, that changes thing a bit, but Dark didn't really have a choice.

So he wrapped the slightly dusty gauze as tightly as he could around his chest and stomach, using a few too many pieces of tape to hold it in place. He then awkwardly pulled on the also dusty shirt and smoothed out some of the wrinkles. For the sake of being able to walk more comfortably, he also wrapped his ankles, which seemed to work wonders when he stood up and they only somewhat ached.

Maybe that was just his fast healing, though. If there was one pro to being created, it was that.

Dark let out a long, pained sigh before standing up on less-than-steady legs and pulling up the ViraBot code on his computer.

He glanced at the three whiteish scar lines on the back of his wrist.

Maybe they could use a fourth one to match.

~

Through strained eyes and sheer willpower, Chosen managed to break through the barrier.

A chilling sense of nostalgia gripped him as he traveled in the empty space leading to the PC.

He wanted it to stop.

His breathing picked up.

Tears stung his eyes for a moment.

If he was being honest, he really didn't want to go back to that place, but-

Another impact.

Okay, fuck what I said earlier, this hurts now.

More eye strain and hand pain got Chosen inside the PC.

The fight with the ViraBot was unpleasant, to say the least. Chosen didn't enjoy the metallic-tasting red in his mouth or the way his vision blurred and doubled after a while if he wasn't focusing on anything. But really, he didn't like that he and Dark's relationship was even more strained than his ruby-red eyes.

As Chosen left the PC, he gave a small nod of acknowledgement to his creator.

As he went back to face Dark, he couldn't help but feel like he was no better.

~~~~~

fun fact: this is my longest oneshot :3

heyyyy uh

the SH warning was there for a reason, but i mustve forgotten to copy-paste two lines, so i went back and fixed it TvT

[spiderrmax]

the end?

"50 wordless ways to say I love you"

47. staying up half the night to finish a game with them. word count: 1431 author's note: this was really fun to write because i had to remember the steps to beating the ender dragon. (im not a gamer im sorry) (also since you guys aren't speedrunning you don't finish the game)

It’s 10 pm when you have the amazing idea to start a new minecraft world. When you propose the idea, Kyle laughs, not believing you to be serious at first. The two of you are all ready for bed, his hat discarded and curls loose. However, when you scoot to the end of your bed, turning on your console, he follows suit, sitting right beside you. (The both of you ignore the heat in your face as your legs brush against one another.)

“Minecraft is a game that Ike likes.” Kyle teases, as the familiar soundtrack fills your room.

“Shut up. You mentioned never beating it before. We conquer The End tonight.” You swiftly respond, one of your elbows reaching for Kyle’s ribs. He takes the hit, before recovering quickly, nudging you back into your original spot on the bed.

“The End?” Kyle asks, watching as you make the new world. He smiles a bit when you title it with the two of your initials. You’re cute, he thinks, allowing the thought to simmer before he tries to forget about it.

“It’s where the Ender Dragon lives. You’ll catch on, you’re smart.” You explain, handing him a controller. “You’re going to be the little guy on the bottom half of the screen.”

Kyle doesn’t mention how he’s used to focusing on the upper half, allowing you to teach him the strings. It’s not like he hasn’t played the game before, again it was one Ike enjoyed a lot when they were younger. Ike just never cared to do much other than terrorize villagers and pick flowers.

The game loads up, and the two of you are in a spruce biome. You’re quick to start chopping down wood, and Kyle simply follows in your footsteps. Kyle is impressed with how swift and efficient you are, getting enough wood to make a full set of wooden tools. When you ask for his wood, he has no hesitation in giving it to you, kindly thanking you as you craft his tools too.

“Wanna explore for a bit? We’ll need to go mining at some point but we don’t need to rush the game.” You explain, leaning closer to him. (Kyle doesn’t know if it’s subconscious or not, but he doesn’t move much after that, scared you’ll realize and drift away.)

Kyle’s character mostly follows your character around. You continue to mine at blocks vital to progressing the game — more wood, surface coal, cobblestone — as you guys escape the forest. Playing the game with you is much more relaxing, even if Kyle isn’t making much of the decisions. Not that he minds, really, as it is similar to how Ike would play. If anything, the only reason it’s so tolerable is because he’s playing with you.

The two of you find a village around 11, the hour of exploring feeling like minutes as the two of you wondered around. Kyle watches as you steal from their farms, their chests, and destroys their hay; he can’t feel pity for the villagers with their silly design. Notably, you share the loot with Kyle, not keeping all the nicer items for yourself. It’s almost second nature, to give him the iron pickaxe you found. Kyle leans in closer; you don’t move even as his shoulder brushes.

Before venturing into the mines, you suggest stealing two villagers beds to set your spawn point just incase one of you were to die. Two yellow beds are placed down together, in the middle of a plains biome. Kyle doesn’t comment on your deliberate placement of your bed next to his. He does have to pause to take a sip of his water, face on fire. (It’s just a video game. One he’s playing with you, one he’s enjoying despite the open world. He wonders if you are picking up on his internal struggles, or if you are too focused on the game.)

Hours pass, and the two of you have made more progress than Kyle ever has. You guide him through getting enough diamonds to craft a pickaxe in order to make a portal to the Nether; he wasn’t even aware of the other dimension until you explained it to him.

Despite being prone to raging whenever he dies in game, he doesn’t care when a blaze burns him to a crisp. He watches as your character gets his stuff — “it’ll despawn, I promise to give it back” — and hides in a corner, waiting for him to safely get back to you. He thinks of playing with his friends, who in comparison, would’ve kept his stuff joyfully, and smiles down at you.

You have to get enough blaze rods to get to The End — five, preferably. Once you have that you get to leave the dreaded dimension. As you enter the portal, you show your first signs of exhaustion, yawning and reaching up to rub at your eyes, and Kyle looks up to see it’s one in the morning. 

“Hey it’s getting late. Do you want to head to bed?” Kyle’s voice is soft, peering down at you with such genuineness you can’t stare at him long.

“No, I’m okay. Let’s keep going. We still have to get ender pearls.” You mumble, voice clearly affected from your tired state.

Enderpearls come from Enderman, Kyle learns as the two of you wait for it to be night. In comparison to the five blaze rods, you need 12 eyes. Just in case, you’ll never know how many spots are full at the portal. (You explain things to him with such passion, despite being exhausted. Your hands wave slightly, and Kyle has to take the control from your lap to prevent it from falling. He’s never cared so much about Minecraft.)

Kyle’s first Enderman kills him, coming from behind. You conviently left out how they teleport, and watching him stumble around has you giggling with delirium. Purposely, this time, you lean closer, head tucked against Kyle’s arm. He can feel your laughter, and doesn’t mind being the source of your amusement. As he respawns, he shifts a bit, to allow you to fit better.

You yawn again, and after a moment, a second time. Your character is not moving as efficiently as it once was, and although you haven’t died, you aren’t fighting the mobs either. Kyle is doing most of the work, and almost is cocky with how smooth he can kill Creepers without them blowing either of you up.

At 2:48, you guys finally have gathered 12 pearls. Enderman spawn less frequently than other mobs, thus making it harder to hunt them down. Over the hour you have continued to sink into the warm of Kyle’s hoodie. If it was the morning, with people to witness, he thinks he would be a flustered mess. With the world asleep, it feels right to have you at his side; no one awake to argue with him.

Your character has stopped moving, and Kyle peers down to see if you’re asleep, too. Slowly, you blink up at him, confirmation of your (barely) consciousness. Kyle grins, and pressing a kiss to your forehead comes naturally. A sleepy grin appears on your face, but you don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

When the sun rises in the game, Kyle takes your controller to save the game. Your grip too weak to have any fight, and once the game finishes saving, he turns off the TV. Kyle yawns too, stretching as he stands for the first time in hours. You can barely keep yourself up, and once Kyle’s joints are no longer stiff, he helps guides you back up against your pillows.

“We didn’t get to the End.” You mumble into the comforter, shifting around to create space in your bed for him. He slides in, perfectly designed for the other half of your mattress.

“We can play another day.” Kyle murmurs, pushing hair from your forehead. Your eyes are shut now, and Kyle can’t help but smile from the simple domesticity of it all.

“Thanks for staying up with me.” You cuddle closer, those words acting as your goodnight as you can no longer force yourself to stay awake.

Kyle doesn’t say anything for a moment, yawning himself as he finally lets himself feel exhaustion from being up until three AM.

He tries to think of something romantic to say, like they would in the movies, but he doesn’t need to. The arm he curls around your waist, the way he eases into your mattress, and the relaxed look on his face tells it all.

[bodyswappertransforming]

The preacher sat in his luxurious office, his mind racing. The headlines had broken earlier that day—*Preacher Caught in Money Laundering Scandal.* His name was plastered across every news outlet, his face—once respected, now a symbol of hypocrisy—flashed across screens nationwide. The once-celebrated head of a massive church, preaching against sin, had now been exposed as a sinner himself. Not just that, but the money trail tied him to some deeply unsavory connections. He’d never recover. His empire would collapse.

He leaned back in his leather chair, staring at the phone on his desk. He had already been contacted by some very dangerous people, those who made his public fall from grace look like a minor inconvenience. His involvement in their financial operations meant that running wasn’t an option. He needed a way out, a clean slate, and a new identity—something drastic. As his gaze fell on the ornate crucifix hanging on the wall, the irony wasn't lost on him. *How had it come to this?*

The phone buzzed. It was the only message he had been waiting for.

“They’re ready for you.”

The meeting was arranged quickly, discreetly, and without the usual fanfare that surrounded his life. He arrived at the address—a nondescript building on the outskirts of town, far from the public eye. Inside, three figures waited. They weren’t dressed in suits or lab coats, but in casual clothes, their relaxed demeanor making him uneasy. One of them, a tall man with piercing eyes, gave him a look that made it clear this was not going to be a negotiation. It was an ultimatum.

“You came to us,” the man said, his voice smooth but menacing. “So you know the terms.”

The preacher’s heart pounded in his chest. He nodded. His mouth was dry, his hands shaking. “I… I’ll do anything.”

The man smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. Then strip.”

The preacher’s eyes widened, but the man’s expression didn’t change. He knew there was no point in arguing. Slowly, reluctantly, he undressed. The suit, the symbols of his power and status, were discarded on the floor like the life he once had. The experts handed him a plain white robe to cover himself, though the fabric barely provided any comfort against the chill creeping through his veins.

“We’re giving you a new life,” one of the experts—a woman with sharp eyes and a soft voice—explained. “A fresh start. You’ll have a new identity, one that no one will ever suspect.”

The preacher swallowed hard. “What do you mean, a new identity?”

The woman stepped closer, holding something in her hands. A small vial of liquid. “You’ll become someone else entirely. Someone nobody would ever associate with you. But it comes with a cost. The man you were will no longer exist. You won’t just change your name. You’ll change everything—your face, your voice, your body.”

He felt his stomach twist. “What… what kind of body?”

Her smile widened. “You’ll be transformed into a black male, one already transitioning into a female. The change will be... extensive. And permanent.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. A black man? Transitioning? It was everything he had preached against, everything he had condemned. But he was trapped. There was no other way out, and they knew it.

His throat tightened, but he nodded. “Do it.”

The woman handed him the vial, her expression cool. “Drink it. This will start the process.”

With trembling hands, he lifted the vial to his lips and swallowed the bitter liquid. Instantly, a burning sensation spread through his chest, followed by a deep, unsettling warmth. His body felt like it was melting from the inside out.

“It’s happening,” one of the experts said quietly.

The preacher gasped, stumbling backward as the transformation began. His skin prickled, then burned, as if it was being stretched and reshaped. His pale complexion darkened rapidly, turning a deep, rich brown. His hands shook as he stared at them, watching as his long, white fingers thickened and turned darker, the nails shifting into a broader shape. His palms, once soft, grew calloused, the texture changing with each second.

He reached up to his face, feeling it change under his touch. His jawline, once sharp and masculine, began to soften, his features growing more rounded. His nose widened, his lips became fuller, and his blue eyes shifted to a deep, amber hue. His slick, salt-and-pepper hair thickened and coiled into tight black curls, framing his face.

He stumbled forward, his voice escaping in a strangled moan. “W-What’s happening to me?”

“It’s the start,” the expert explained. “You’re becoming someone new. You’ll feel everything shift—your height, your body, your identity.”

The preacher’s back arched as his chest tightened, the muscles pulling and reshaping. His shoulders narrowed, his waist cinching in slightly as his hips began to broaden. The sensation was overwhelming. His legs, long and lean, thickened with muscle, his thighs becoming more prominent, more feminine. He felt the weight shifting lower, his center of gravity altering as his pelvis widened, his hips and ass rounding out with new curves.

He gasped as the most dramatic change hit. His manhood, which had defined so much of his past life, began to shrink. The sensation was excruciating, a slow, dissolving pressure that left him panting and sweating. His hands reached down, instinctively grabbing at himself as if he could stop the inevitable, but there was no reversing it. His anatomy was changing, becoming something else—something more feminine. The absence left him feeling exposed, alien in his own skin.

The experts watched without emotion as his chest tightened once more. Two small mounds began to push against the robe, signaling the early stages of breast development. They weren’t large, but the sensation was undeniable. His nipples tingled, sending unfamiliar jolts of pleasure through him.

“Your voice,” the woman said, stepping closer again. “Try speaking.”

The preacher opened his mouth, but the deep, authoritative voice he had wielded so effectively was gone. In its place was something softer, higher. It still carried traces of masculinity, but there was a distinct lightness to it now.

“What have you… done to me?” His voice was unrecognizable to his own ears.

The expert smiled again, handing him a mirror. “Take a look.”

He stared at the reflection, his heart pounding in disbelief. The person looking back wasn’t him. The dark, curly hair, the deep brown skin, the full lips—all belonged to someone else. But it was him. He reached up, touching his face, his new face, and felt his hand tremble. His eyebrows were thicker, darker, his nose broader, his jawline softer, more androgynous.

His height had changed too. No longer the imposing 6’3” figure he once was, he stood at around 5’9”, his entire posture shifting to accommodate the new frame. His feet, once long and narrow, were now shorter, wider, with dark skin covering them.

He let the robe slip from his shoulders, standing there naked, staring down at his body. His muscles were still there but reshaped, softer in some places, more feminine in others. His legs, thick and strong, led to hips that were undeniably round, an ass that now protruded with new fullness. He could feel the difference in his movements, every step affected by the new weight of his body. Even the way his feet hit the ground had changed, more careful, more deliberate.

A burning sensation filled his throat, and his mind raced. He had been transformed into something he had spent his life condemning—someone he would have once preached against. A black man transitioning into a woman. A new life. A new identity.

“Now,” one of the experts said, placing a pile of clothes on the table. “Dress.”

The preacher—no, the person standing there now—looked at the clothes. A pair of jeans, tight and form-fitting, and a shirt that would cling to the new curves. With shaking hands, he pulled them on, feeling the fabric hug his body in ways it had never done before. The jeans clung to his hips and thighs, accentuating the roundness of his ass. The shirt stretched over his chest, the small breasts clearly visible beneath the fabric.

He took a deep breath, staring at himself in the mirror again. The man he had once been was gone. In his place was someone entirely new. A black man—transitioning into a woman—standing on the cusp of a new life, a life that would be free of his past sins, but one that came with a new set of challenges. He would have to navigate this existence, deal with the desires, the identity, the complexities of this new form.

As the experts observed, he turned to them, his voice quieter but filled with a mix of anger and acceptance. “What now?”

The woman smiled. “Now? You start over.

The preacher—now no longer the towering figure of righteousness he once embodied—stood in front of a small, cracked mirror in a modest apartment. The grandeur of his past life had vanished, replaced by this tiny space that barely felt like home. It had been weeks since the transformation, and though he had begun to accept his new body, there was still an unease that sat deep in his chest. Every day he stared at his reflection, trying to recognize himself in this new form, but all he saw was a stranger.

His hair, once perfectly groomed and slicked back, now fell in loose, dark curls that framed his face. His skin, a rich brown that still startled him every time he looked at it, seemed foreign. His nose was broader, his lips fuller, and his eyes—once a piercing blue—had shifted to a deep, amber hue that held a softness he wasn’t used to. His body was curvier now, with small but noticeable breasts that had grown over the weeks of taking estrogen. The hormones had softened him, both physically and emotionally, in ways that he hadn’t expected.

Every morning, he took the pills—a small, pastel-colored tablet that symbolized the start of his new life. At first, the thought of taking female hormones had filled him with dread, but now, it had become routine. The changes came slowly, but they were undeniable. His skin had softened, the fat on his body had redistributed, and his hips had become wider, more feminine. His body was in flux, stuck somewhere between male and female, but the more time passed, the more he found himself leaning into his new reality.

His penis was still there, a reminder of who he used to be, but it felt out of place on his now mostly feminine form. Some days, he stared down at it, wondering if it would ever feel like it belonged to him again. Other days, he imagined what it would be like to have it gone completely, to finish the transition that had been thrust upon him. But for now, he was caught in between—still physically male in some ways, but undeniably female in others.

Stepping back from the mirror, he moved to the dresser and pulled out a bra, still fumbling with it as he tried to clasp it behind his back. The breasts, while small, had become a part of his daily life, and the tightness of the fabric against his skin gave him a sense of security, a reminder that his body was changing. After the bra, he pulled on a pair of jeans that hugged his hips and thighs, and a loose-fitting blouse that did little to hide his growing chest.

He hated going out. The stares, the whispers—he could feel people’s eyes on him whenever he walked down the street. The preacher, now living under a new name—one he barely remembered to respond to—was trying to adjust to the fact that he was now someone different. The masculine swagger he had once carried was gone, replaced by an awkward shuffle as he tried to navigate a body that no longer felt natural.

His reflection in the mirror still unsettled him. His voice had softened thanks to the hormones, though it was still too deep to be fully feminine. Every word felt like an echo of who he used to be, a contradiction of the person he was becoming. He practiced speaking in higher tones, trying to make his voice match the way he looked, but the effort only exhausted him.

The day’s pill sat on the counter, waiting for him. He sighed and picked it up, swallowing it with a glass of water. Each dose reminded him of the path he was on, a journey he hadn’t chosen but was now forced to walk. The estrogen worked slowly, but he could feel it in the way his body had softened, the way his emotions were closer to the surface. He cried more now, sometimes for no reason at all, and it frustrated him. He had never been an emotional man, but now he couldn’t stop the waves of feelings that crashed over him.

There were moments when he felt a sense of peace, though. In the quiet of his apartment, he could touch his new body, run his hands over the curves that had formed, and feel... a strange kind of contentment. His breasts, though small, were sensitive, and he would sometimes sit on the edge of his bed, cupping them gently, trying to understand this new sensation. The softness of his skin, the roundness of his hips—they were alien to him, but they were becoming more familiar with each passing day.

Still, the confusion lingered. His penis, now smaller and less responsive due to the hormones, remained a source of discomfort. It didn’t fit with the rest of him, and every time he looked at it, he felt a disconnect. But he couldn’t bring himself to take that final step—to remove it completely. The thought terrified him. He had spent his entire life defining himself by his masculinity, by his strength and dominance, and now, that part of him was slowly being erased.

His old life felt like a distant memory. The pulpit, the sermons, the fire and brimstone—all of it seemed like a bad dream. How could he have been that man? How could he have stood in front of thousands of people and condemned the very person he was becoming? It was a cruel irony, one that gnawed at him every day. He had railed against transgender people, against the idea that someone could be born in the wrong body, and now, he was living that reality.

He often caught himself staring at women on the street—not in the way he used to, but with a strange kind of envy. Their bodies, their ease with who they were—it was something he longed for. He wanted that sense of belonging, that comfort in his own skin. But he wasn’t there yet.

He remembered the first time he tried to go out presenting fully as a woman. The makeup had been a disaster, the dress uncomfortable, and the shoes nearly impossible to walk in. He had been nervous, every glance from a stranger feeling like a judgment. He had made it halfway down the block before he turned around and went back to his apartment, ripping the clothes off in frustration.

Now, his wardrobe was more practical—jeans, blouses, simple flats. He still wasn’t ready for dresses, for the overt femininity that they symbolized, but he was slowly getting there. His hair had grown out more, and he found himself enjoying the way it curled around his face, the way it softened his features.

As he adjusted his blouse in the mirror, he thought about the future. The idea of fully transitioning still scared him, but the more time passed, the more he realized that it was a path he couldn’t avoid. He had spent his life running from the truth, from who he was, and now he had no choice but to confront it. The hormones were just the beginning.

He still struggled with his identity—was he a man, a woman, or something in between? He wasn’t sure. Some days, he felt like a woman trapped in a man’s body, and other days, he wasn’t sure what he felt. But one thing was clear—he couldn’t go back. The life he had before was gone, and now, he had to figure out how to live in this new skin.

With a sigh, he grabbed his purse and headed for the door. He had a doctor’s appointment—a routine checkup on his hormone levels. As he stepped out into the world, he felt the familiar mix of anxiety and determination. He wasn’t the man he used to be, but he wasn’t fully the woman he was becoming either. He was somewhere in between, still figuring it all out.

[dawnagustd]

big deal || myg

➛ title: Big Deal ➛ pairing: (non romantic) idol!yoongi x reader; ft. ot7 ➛ genre: mature rated comedy? ➛ summary: “It’s never a big deal until it becomes your big deal,” Yoongi learns. ➛ rating: 18+ ➛ word count: 1.3k ➛ warnings: strong language | attempted and failed blackmailing (like it was pointless lol) | c*cks… lots of c*cks being discussed; specifically Bangtan c*ck | ot7 chaos | this is a complete unedited shit show | open ending just in case | i think that’s all ➛ author’s note: Hi! It’s been a long ass time. I’m so nervous lol. Anyway, this is for @hobeemin​ & @sweetestofchaos​ and it has everything to do with this Discord emoji. This is the first completed work I’ve written in months, so please be kind lol. I know it’s bad(it’s supposed to be) and I’m not all too comfortable writing idol aus but I had a ball writing it so just let me have this moment🤣. Also, I don’t want to promise a part 2 but... man I like the thought of mad whiny Yoongi.

“Mine doesn’t even look like that! Guys, look at how thick and short it is.”

Yoongi does an internal eye roll as Jimin lets out another dramatic cry. All this over some damn Discord emojis. Maybe he’s just too old for this shit because he doesn’t see the big deal. At least he’s not the only one.

“It isn’t that deep,” Seokjin states, shoving some ramen in his mouth.

“That’s what Jimin’s girl said,” Jungkook blurts out in a small voice.

He can see Jimin giving them a nasty glare through the monitor screen. It’s just his pride. He feels like the creator of these Bangtan-style Discord emojis should have added a little more length. Yoongi will not deny or confirm whether or not they should have. Still, he can’t help but chuckle as Jimin tries to convince everyone about the truth they already know of.

“Yeah, Jimin. It’s not that serious,” Namjoon chimes in.

He’s taken a seat on the couch, bored with the big discovery they made just a few minutes ago. Someone approached and told them about a website dedicated to Discord emojis. Apparently, a creator’s newest NSFW uploads are BTS-inspired superhero cocks. And well, they just had to see it to believe it.

“Easy for you guys to say. Your cocks are perfect!”

“Well, thanks Jimin,” Jungkook laughs.

“Shut up! You know what I meant.”

He’s not lying, though. This is pure talent. The amount of effort and detail you put into the craft doesn’t go unnoticed. No wonder everyone’s talking about this.

“Jimin, why don’t you just contact the creator? The info is in their bio,” Hoseok suggests.

Jimin and Taehyung begin searching for your number together, both being displeased with their results. While they bicker, Yoongi starts going through the rest of the content.

“And what does yours look like, hm?” Jungkook teases.

Yoongi turns to the youngest member and shrugs. “Don’t know. Didn’t look.”

He returns to scrolling, but Jungkook snatches the mouse out of his hand.

“Well, let’s see,” Jungkook insists. He returns to the newest uploads and looks through the members until he finds the Suga-Man emoji.

“I don’t care about that shit. I know what my dick looks like—”

When Yoongi sees his emoji, he nearly knocks Jungkook to the floor while he tries to regain control of the mouse. He cannot believe his eyes. It’s nothing like the real thing at all. Yoongi’s appalled.

“Where are my details?!”

He catches his outburst seconds after it is too late. All of the members heard him cry out due to the distasteful site. He looks over at Seokjin.

“They forgot some stuff,” he repeats.

“Okay.”

His mouth drops at Seokjin’s lack of empathy. 

“Well, I must be the least favorite member,” Yoongi concludes.

“Dude, we don’t talk like that. Remember?”

“Then explain why mine is so plain?!”

Seokjin sighs. “I’ll give you your own advice, bro. It’s not that serious.”

But it is. His emoji dick looks so basic. He has layers that make him unique too. This is so embarrassing.

“Jimin, I don’t think you’re supposed to call the number,” Taehyung shouts, trying to chase down a frantic Jimin.

They’ve somehow managed to find your Instagram and your business number. Jimin couldn’t wait for a second to dial the digits and speak with you, and neither can he.

When Jimin comes beside him for protection from Taehyung, Yoongi grabs the phone and instantly hears it ringing. He starts tapping the desk impatiently, ignoring Jimin’s wails and pleas. He’ll give him the phone after he’s done so he can whine, but this is urgent. You need to make the necessary changes to his emoji immediately or take it down completely. 

If you don’t… Well, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Just when he believes it’ll go to voicemail, someone answers the phone. They introduce themselves as the creator and ask how they may insist. Yoongi introduces himself also, and after 5 minutes of back and forth because you thought you were getting pranked, he FaceTimes you.

“Woah. It is you,” you gasp. “All of you.”

“Yeah. Anyway, back to our discussion.”

You blink your eyes as if you’re snapping out of a trance, then look directly at Yoongi.

“Sorry, what were you saying? I wasn’t listening because I thought you were fucking with me,” you admit.

With a groan, Yoongi repeats himself.

“Those emojis you made, the Bangtan Super Cock set. It’s inaccurate.”

“No, it’s not,” you deny.

The other members are summoned by Namjoon for practice, and Yoongi waves, signaling he’ll be following shortly.

“Oh, hell yeah it is,” he scoffs.

“How so?”

Yoongi can hear mischief in your voice. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knows how this goes.

“Look, all I’m saying is mine has no texture or detail. It’s boring and looks nothing like the real thing.”

Your giggles have him both annoyed and amused because you’re actually kind of cute. You’re definitely not someone he’d suspect to be making these types of things.

“What texture or details did I neglect to add, Suga-Man?”

“Cut the shit,” he orders, but you continue to tease. 

He’s thankful the others are out of here because he’d never hear the end of this.

“Can you just add something to make it look less sleek?” 

“No,” you cackle. “Why would I do that?”

“Because—”

He almost slips up, but he catches himself.

“Look, just do it or I’ll sue you,” he threatens.

“You can’t do that.”

“I can try.”

There is more laughter on your end of the line before you eventually stop and tilt your head.

“Why does it matter so much?” you ask. “I mean… It must be serious if you called this number. No one calls this number. I’m just a small content creator.”

You make it seem like your work isn’t mind blowing. He wouldn’t know where to start, and yet you have hundreds of emojis created, and they’re free. But he can’t go on like this. Not when he knows there’s a misrepresentation of his cock going around. No way.

“Just add some veins, and that’ll do,” he mutters.

Once again, you giggle.

“Nope. My creations come from my mind, and that is what my brain told me to draw.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course not,�� you assure. “You’re my bias.”

“Then add the effects and make me look good!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” you argue. 

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose and tries his best to work on an effective strategy.

“I’ll pay you,” he offers, but you refuse.

“I’m good.”

Silence follows, and you both are just staring at each other at this point. Time is winding down, and Namjoon will come looking for him in a minute. The longer he stays on this call, the bigger the risk he has of getting caught. He’s already playing a dangerous game. You could be recording all of this, and he wouldn’t know until it’s slapping him in the face. This really wasn’t worth getting flustered over now that he thinks about it.

“Why are you so passionate about this?” you ask. He can hear the genuine curiosity in your tone, so he answers truthfully.

“My cock isn’t boring,” he repeats. “It’s not average.”

A long sigh travels past your semi-parted lips as you lean forward, getting closer to the screen. Damn, you aren’t just cute. You’re hot. Now he’s definitely embarrassed. 

Your smirk has him thinking you’ll show pity but looks can be very deceiving he’ll learn. You end the call with a challenge.

“Prove it.”

Yoongi sits there until the members physically force him to come practice. He never mentions what happened on that phone call, but best believe, it’s still lingering in his mind.

[cherryatombomb]

The Haunting of the Miller House

John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

a/n: for now, this is a oneshot, but could turn into a series depending on reception! this is a buzzfeed unsolved au, where soap is a paranormal investigator, and ghost is his demon companion. he's unaware he's a demon, of course! no warnings apply, besides a few minor descriptions of violence that comes with hauntings. read on ao3 !!

The video starts. Two men stand aside one another; one is shorter, though in reality stands at around 6”0. He has a mohawk and is dressed in relatively light clothes – a flannel shirt over a white, plain tee, and faded blue jeans. He’s wearing trainers and excitedly smiles at the camera. His companion stands impossibly tall, at 6”5, and is wearing a darker outfit then his friend. A beanie covers his head, black and plain, and the lower half of his face is covered by a plain black facemask. Despite it being late at night, he’s wearing sunglasses. A black hoodie with skeletal ribs around the right area on his stomach, black jeans, and combat boots finish his outfit off. In every way, he looks like his partner’s opposite.

“The Miller household was once a lovely house in a nice suburban area, bought by a young, budding couple, excited to start their new life together,” The smaller one begins to speak, his voice dramatic, clearly getting into telling a story. His accent is Scottish, though it isn’t too thick, at this moment. “As soon as they moved in, however, things began to seem out of place. A bump in the night, lights switching on and off, or a TV being on when they had definitely turned it off. Things came to a head, however, when they claimed to see a figure in the night-”

A scoff escapes the taller man. The smaller man shakes his head in amusement and continues.

“-One that continued to haunt them. Scratches, bruises, furniture being pushed around, and perhaps one of my favourite pieces of evidence to date.” A picture shows on the screen of a dark room. Outside the window appears to be a figure, peering at the window, though it's only the outline – there are no discernible features.

“Photoshop,” The tall man muses.

The Scotsman rolls his eyes, though his smile betrays his affection. “I’m John MacTavish – though you can call me Soap, and this is my ‘partner’,” Soap nudges his partner’s side, giving him an expectant look. The man in question blinks slowly at him before he seems to register what’s going on.

He huffs.

“I’m Simon Riley. Ghost.”

“A man of many words, aye?” A snicker escapes John, and it’s difficult to see Simon’s reaction – though his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners.

“Either way, I’m a wholehearted believer in ghosts. My partner is a skeptic. In this series, I tour some of my favourite haunted locations, whilst also trying to prove to him that ghosts are real!” Soap’s hands clasp together excitedly, and as an intro begins to play, the ironically named Ghost mumbles a few things about ‘photoshop’ and ‘hallucinations.

The intro gives some music, and some more information about the house, as it plays some shots of the house in the background. It looks like a generic house on the outside, though its inside clearly reflects its abandoned state – classic interior, fitting of the past. The Miller House is a hot spot for paranormal activity, apparently, thousands of believers from all over the world come to visit and come away firmly in belief of the paranormal.

The intro finishes with a flash of the title, before returning to the two partners. They stand inside the house, now – Ghost is forced to crouch to get through a doorway without hitting his head.

“This is the living room. Where the TVs used to turn on without anybody being there – the lights often switched off and on in this room, too,” Soap explains, looking around the room with trepidation in his features.

“Maybe the ghosts just wanted to watch TV. Did they think about that?” Ghost questions, his voice amused, even when his face betrays nothing but seriousness.

“Well, when paranormal activity occurs, there tend to be problems with electricity, so it might be that-”

“They definitely want to watch TV. All ghosts are from the medieval period, right? I’d want to watch TV without it killing me. Maybe the Simpsons. Maybe just the news.”

Soap does his best to seem annoyed with his words, his arms folding across his chest, but an amused laugh escapes him, nonetheless. It seems to put him at ease, more relaxed in the dark house, now. “It’s a nice living room,” He finally relents, grinning.

“Better than ours,”

“Our living room is lovely!”

“Remember the wine-”

Ghost is cut off by a glare from Soap. The look lingers, before the shot changes once more.

Now, they stand in front of the stairs, looking up at them. There are a few pieces of leftover decorations along the wall by the stairs, just a few paintings, but it’s nothing that daunting. It’s dark upstairs, and both men have different expressions on their features.

Ghost looks nonplussed. Even behind the mask, everything about his stance reads casual and calm. Soap, on the other hand, is staring upstairs like it might kill him, immediately.

“Maybe we could… put some lights on, eh?”

“No. Gotta prepare you for your solo run, MacTavish,” A hand is placed on his shoulder, and it’s difficult to see behind the mask, but Ghost is grinning at him. Soap huffs right back in response, before gesturing to the stares, “Ladies first!”

A chuckle escapes the man in hand, but he allows the other to hide behind him as he walks upstairs. When he reaches the top, followed by Soap, his eyes flit around the long hallway, before focusing on a single spot. His eyes narrow momentarily, catching even his companion’s attention.

“See somethin’?” More of Soap’s accent slips out when he’s nervous, apparently, anxiety intensifying thanks to the skeptic's sudden focus.

There’s a momentary silence as he simply continues glaring. The camera zooms in to where he appears to be looking, and there seems to be nothing but empty space.

“Nice painting,” that silence is suddenly broken, and the camera pulls back in time to see Soap’s eyes widen, then let out a laugh.

“Ye right scunner!” Soap exclaims between laughter, nudging his side in what seems to be a chide for scaring him. Once more, his accent thickens with his emotions – now with righteous indignation at being frightened by his partner. A knowing look in his eyes betrays that this isn’t the first time.

“English, MacTavish,”

“Och, fuck you,” Despite the seeming irritation in his words, he’s grinning fondly. The duo walks to the end of the hallway and step into a nearby room. It’s the bedroom, clearly.

“This is where Elizabeth Miller and Daniel Miller were sleeping peacefully one night before a loud crash woke them up,” Soap begins to explain, and he looks enthusiastic about this explanation. He looks around the room, gesturing wildly as he speaks.

This time, Ghost does not interrupt him. Instead, he watches, fondly.

“Both got up to inspect the crash, together, knowing that they’ve had a few incidents with the paranormal before, when Elizabeth sees a figure in the corner. Before she can warn her partner, the figure rushes forwards and sends her flying across the room. Daniel is sent the same way. They both rush out of the house, different items being flung at them – plates, glasses, even a book – before they make it out.”

“I’d love to fight a ghost, one day,” Simon interjects, seeming unable to resist.

Seeming typical of the two, John just stares at him for a moment, before forging on.

“They go to hospital, get treated for their injuries – some scratches, like deep claws, and Elizabeth broke a rib. Daniel made it away with only a sprained wrist and scratches. This room is considered the most haunted place in the house – different paranormal investigators have come here, and have claimed to hear voices, whispers, or the sensation of being touched.” His explanation finished, Soap looks around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out at them at any time.

“If any demons would like to… steal my heart, they’re more than welcome to,” Simon begins, walking around the room like he owns the place, “Hell, whilst you’re at it, why not steal Johnny’s heart? Just take it out. Maybe throw us across the room. Let’s fight. I can fight.”

“Don’t drag me into your shit, eejit!” Soap complains at him, backing away as if to form a physical barrier between them. “I like my heart where it is?”

“You’re no fun,” Simon sighs softly, as if truly forlorn, but his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

Once more, the scene shifts, back to both being outside. Simon is wearing a helmet with a camera on it, able to catch his face without having to use his hands. There are walkie-talkies in both of their hands.

“Welcome to my least favourite part of the investigation – the solo investigation! This time, both me and Simon will work through every room in the house, trying to reach out to whatever ghosts – or demons! - inhabit the house, separately,”

“I look ridiculous,”

“You look… handsome?”

Ghost glares at Soap. The latter grins unrepentantly, before shooing him inside.

Once more, the camera shifts – this time, it’s a close-up of Ghost’s face as he walks through the house. It’s dark, and his eyes can be seen drifting around the room, looking the epitome of calm and relaxed, despite being in a supposed haunted hotspot. The video shifts between different clips of him taunting his namesake:

“Reckon I could take a ghost in a fight,”

“You want to scratch me up? Come on, then. Wait, that sounds…”

“What did the ghost say when it crashed the Halloween party? I’m here for the boos,”

At the last pun, the camera snaps back outside, to where Soap is sitting comfortably in his seat. “I bet he’s telling shitty jokes, the asshole,” fondness drips from his tone, “getting them all riled up for me, I’m tellin’ you! Next time, I’m goin’ in first. Then we’ll see who gets freaked out,”

The camera snaps back, just in time to see Ghost hit his head against the door he’s trying to walk through. He glares at the camera as if trying to inform every viewer not to say anything about it, before making his way upstairs.

His journey skips to the bedroom, once more, uneventful. The room is dark as he steps inside, and this time, he remembers to duck down to avoid hitting his head.

“This is where that picture Johnny likes was taken,” he muses, looking over at the window. Closer, he wanders, then uses his fingers to make the ‘I’m watching you’ sign as if there’s something he can see out the window. “Any demons want to use me as a vessel?” He asks, turning and lazily spinning around in the room as if to try and tempt them. There's amusement in his tone, lazy confidence, like he knows there’s nothing here, or, if there is, that it would never dare to touch him.

“Time’s up, Ghost,” Johnny calls through his walkie-talkie.

“See you next time, demons. Give Johnny a fright for me. He hates hearing footsteps in other rooms. Nothing more, though. Don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he muses, beginning the trek downstairs. There’s a tapping sound on the wall as he walks past, a tap, pause, then another tap. He walks on like he doesn’t notice a thing.

There’s a change in perspective as Ghost steps outside, so both are in view. Rather dramatically, Ghost staggers out of the house, staring at his partner with wide eyes.

“What?” Immediately, Soap is moving closer, concerned.

“They spoke to me,”

“What?” Soap looks frantic, terrified, and intrigued, all in one.

“I can hardly boo-lieve it,”

A groan escapes John. He gives Ghost a look like he killed his cat.

Ghost just looks proud of himself.

There’s a pregnant pause, before the camera switches, and Soap is the one in the house. His shoulders are drawn, tense, walking around the house. “C’mon, ghosts. Give me something. Wanna… tug on my shirt? I’ve got some nice arms; you want to touch them?” As his arms lift, showing off his biceps, footsteps ring out from upstairs.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Somehow, even in the night vision of the camera, it’s clear all the colour has left his face.

“That’s fine. Yeah, everything’s fine. Better than fine,” He continues his walk through the downstairs rooms, now in the living room, “I can walk around, too. See? Hear my feet?” His feet thud loudly against the floor.

There seems to be no response.

“Yeah! That’s what I fuckin’ thought! Ye bawbags, nothin’ but cowards!”

Perspective shifts and they’re outside for a moment. Ghost is standing with a walkie-talkie in his hands, seemingly mid-conversation with someone behind the camera, before indecipherable Scottish yelling is heard from the building. He seems to be taunting the ghosts.

“He’s yelling at them already? Thought he’d last longer,” Simon deadpans, staring at the camera for a few moments longer. It falls silent, apart from the sounds of John’s panicked yelling.

His eyes crinkle at the corners, indicating a smile, just as the perspective shifts back to Soap.

The man has made his way upstairs and is staring into the open bedroom door with fear in his eyes, but also some feral anger. That’s how he copes, it seems.

“This where you were stompin’ ‘round earlier? C’mon out!” He steps inside, looking around the room manically. “Show yourself! You wanna fight? I can fight! I can handle some scratches!”

Various threats of different levels are sent into the still room, yet this time, there’s no response, no footsteps.

Relief floods onto his face as the walkie-talkie crackles to life, and Ghost’s voice speaks up, “Your five minutes are up, now,”

“Coming!” Soap calls, and he rushes downstairs.

Three taps echo out from the bedroom just as he reaches the front door, and he’s rapidly closing it behind him to avoid dealing with that.

Once more, the camera shifts so they can get a proper view of the duo. Ghost walks over to help Soap out of his gear. “See many ghosts, MacTavish?”

“So many.” He grumbles.

Ghost snickers.

Once more, there’s a shift. John is now out of his gear, and Simon is standing with him, looking at the camera together.

“I think it’s fair to say it’s difficult to know what’s wrong with the Miller house,”

“Nothing. Bit old fashioned, though,” Simon hums.

“It’s spooky!” John insists.

Ghost chuckles.

“Well, whatever we believe, skeptic or not, there’s definitely a strange story that comes with the house,” Soap amends, shaking his head in fond amusement. “And I don’t think we found enough proof to swing it either way. So, for now, whether or not the Miller House is haunted remains… unsolved.”

Outro music begins to play, faint, at first, and it’s quiet enough to hear Ghost question ‘Is that a thing, now?’.

The video ends.

[xiaoheart24]

An Angry Blindness 2/2

Is time all one has or is time the last you expect to lose.

After getting dried Cole went to Garmadon, trying to understand what Nya meant. 

“That’s stupid Kai” A voice came from behind getting the attention of Cole, looking back at the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

“Can’t be that stu-” 

‘Smack’

“HEY!” 

Cole was at a loss of words, looking in the direction he knew Garamdon was waiting for him then back to the hallway where the voices keep talking.

“I’m gonna pull a Jay” Cole thought dumbfounded and turned his body around heading for the sound.

“Leaving is unnecessary” Cole whole body froze. “What?!” 

He tiptoed his way slowly to Kai’s bedroom door where the voices got louder, opening the door gently he peeked in and inside he saw Nya arguing with her brother who was packing his bag!!!.

Kai wasn’t wearing his gee anymore but had options on a simple dark red jean, plain white shirt and a black jacket, even his hair had changed! What was once was spiky messy hair like a fire was now down and in a ponytail.

“It’s not like I'm leaving for good” He says, pulling the bag on his back. “It'll only be a few days” He smiles at Nya who only sends him a disapproving look.

“I just need some time to think” He comments, then turns his attention to the door, giving Cole only seconds to hide. 

A moment of silence.

"Take care" Cole peek in again to see Kai open his window stepping through.

Before he jumps out he turns to his sister with a smile. “See you again lil sis” He waves goodbye then jumps out, leaving silence.

Cole was half mined to reveal himself but fate had other plans.

“Cole” 

He froze even more, craning his neck to see Garamdon looking suspiciously at him.

“What are you doing there?” 

"Busted" He thought, looking like a deer caught in a headlight.

“Meeting room- Gather them” Was all Garmadon said in a tone that left no room to decline.

Nya went past him without comment closing the door, heading after Gramadon.

Left alone in silence, Cole could only look down as he made his way to summon his team.

“I'm done for it”

_____________

“Any sign yet?”

“Sigh’ Empty” The tired voice of Cole came 

It’s been over a week since Kai disappeared and Cole couldn’t even begin to explain how crazy the week had been, between Gramadon giving one of his all to know lecturers and the team contacting every person that could help in their search for their brother. 

But after countless tries and zero progress with their hotheaded brother being nowhere to find, the team was about to throw in sword. 

“That‘s it!” Jay flopped down on the couch after another day searching. “That boy is not to be found”

“Maybe we can tr-'' Nya couldn't take her eyes away from the monitor screen going over Ninjago map.

“Nya” Placing a hand on her shoulder Zane gave a sad expression.

“Perhaps it’s best to leave it alone”

“But Kai -” She turned around to face Zane but he interrupted her.

“Isn’t required to be open,” Zane resured. 

“Kai is not obligated to tell us everything in his life, and is allowed to go out” Zane continued.  “Kai will be back, we just gotta go about our ways and be patience” 

Nya started back at Zane for what felt like an eternity but the ice master didn’t stay bothered as long as he got her to calm down.

“Sigh” Nya lowered her head before turning to the computer and turning it off. “Okay”

_________

While the rest was having lunch back home, the master of earth was still looking for his brother. His search had led him on a wild goose hunt to many places, all which in one way or another was connected to Kai, from his old home to Skylor’s noodle restaurant to his favorite shopping mall and the park Kai used to take walks on but to no luck in finding him.  

Cole’s comlink beeps multiple times during the day, his family trying and failing to get him to come home and take a break but he ignored their advice and continued his search for his missing brother.

“Come on dude” He leaned to the edge of his dragon rock ytrying to spot Kai in the crowd below. “Give me a sign”

“HELP!!” 

Cole pulled at the leash to stop his dragon and try to spot where the yell came from.

Then he saw it.

“Lucky I am” He said in a flat voice rubbing a hand over his face as he saw the trouble. 

Down in the park by the pond was the same guy that the team had fought against a week ago and put in jail looked to have broken out alongside some few other people and was traumatizing the people again. 

As if on cue his comlink beeped.

“Cole, an alert ha-” Cole took his comlink and replied, 

“I see it,” With that he maneuvered his dragon to fly down.

Twitching his dragon Cole managed to grab one of the guys  by his collar and sent him into the pond gaining the attention of the other’s.

“YOU!” The leader yelled.

He jumped off his dragon. “It’s me. Time to go back home to jail” He replied.

“Oh sooo scary” Waving his hands. 

“I don’t think so” The man moved to the side revealing one of the guys holding a hostage. 

“Let them go,” Cole demanded.

“It seems we have a problem in hand” Pulling out a gun aiming at the hostage head. “As I have plans and I refuse to be bested by some kid” He growled. 

Time seems to have stopped and before Cole could react his body was moving on its own, running straight into the guy holding the hostage sending the three rolling down the hill. As they came to a stop the hostage began running away but failed to notice the other guys aim their weapons at them but Cole abandoned his opponent who he had managed to knock out and dove for the person using his body as shield.

Cole waited for the end strike but it never came.

“And you call me selfish” A new voice came, sounding amused bringing the familiar smell of smoke.

Cole lifted his head to look in shock and joy at his hotheaded brother standing infront of him with a smudge look. “I leave for a week and yet you need my rescue in the end” He teased.

"Kai!" Cole got up, taking a good look at his brother.

Kai had his gi pants on and with his jacket tied around his waist leaving him in a sleeveless white shirt, he had multiple scars on his arms and one on his cheek. His hair was still in a ponytail, Cole could also see something hanging from his left ear, his angel prevented him from seeing exactly what. 

“How about we finish this, then talk? '' Kai interrupted Cole’s thoughts, turning toward their attacker who was making their way to them.

“R…ri…right” He complied, slamming his hands.

The battle went fairly fast surprisingly, the others hadn’t even made it there before the group was escorted into the police van.

“Cole” Cole was talking to the cop, once he noticed his team making their way over he excused himself which the police officer nodded.

“Bad guys stopped and headed on a one way trip to Ninjago prison” Pointing a finger at the van leaving. 

“Good job” Lloyd patted his shoulder. “You did very well”

Cole's smile grew. “Well… I had some help” He murmured then stepped aside.

“KAI” 

They all shouted as they saw their fury brother stand tall and happy infront of them.

“Hey guys” He waved. “Did you mis- Uhmp'' 

Kai didn’t get to finish before he was engulfed in a big hug sending him stumbling to the ground, his sister thighing her hold.

“You big dummy,” She mumbled.

A small laugh escaped Kai before returning the hug. “Yeah yeah I’m your big dummy” 

“Kai,” Kai lifted his head to meet his team's relieved faces. 

Kai gave a smile waving his hand. “Bring it you guys” Needing no further words the team all piled in the group hug.

“You gotta tell us what you did with your time away,” Jay asked out of the blue.

He was met with a scoff.

“Like that’ll will ever happen,” Kai replied.

“Aw man” 

More laughter filled the air.

[penandswords]

Rima Origins | Part 3

(I'm sticking this under a read more because Rima's story is GETTING a wee bit Dark, but I promise i'm working towards the thing the Poll is for)

(But also this is getting long and I do not want to flood the dash)

Sooo Warning: This section contains DEATH, Lightning, and just plain old Elitisms. (Is that the right word for it? JUST know Rima's family are not 'nice' people) Rima's Age: 15

“You are the HEIR to this family.” Her fathers voice dripped with fury, while he spoke on her mothers behalf. Rima sat on her knees, the hardwood floor digging into her knees. It was the same speech as always. Except laced with more venom between each word. She could feel the judgment from other family members as they watched in the dimly lit room. Observing the lecture from a safe and respectable distance.

Her mothers figure was barely visible behind a thick paper screen. That was normal. The woman rarely ever showed her face, and her VOICE was rarely heard. Even now Rima never understood WHY.

“I understand mother…” It was all Rima could say. Anything to keep the woman's mood from getting worse.

“Then explain to me WHY I've gotten word from your AUNT about involving yourself with a Quirkless girl?”

Rima pressed her lips together, her heart sinking low into her stomach. OF course HER aunt would tell. She was the principle of the school. She knew EVERYTHING. Rima didn't have a reason. She didn’t think she NEEDED a reason.

“She’s only a classmate… It’s nothing more.” A lie… One her father caught, by the way his eyebrow raised.

“That’s a lie, and you know it… I've seen you with that girl several times.” Her younger brother spoke. Rima couldn’t tell which corner of the room it belonged to, and she didn’t have the confidence to look for him.

“WHY is it an issue? I’v kept my grades up, she hasn’t distracted me from any of my duties. She hasn’t done anything to-”

“Quiet!” This time it was her mothers voice that spoke. Gasps rippled through the room, followed by whispers.

“It is MY job as a leader. To ensure my lambs do not stray.” 

“And YOU little lamb, have strayed for far too long. But don’t you WORRY. I am here now to ensure this little act of yours Ends.”

There was a sting in the air from her mothers words. It took only 3 heart beats for her body to tremble and shake. What did she mean by that? What was she going to do? Breaths caught in her throat, and she looked to her father who stood with his stone cold expression.

He looked away, dragging her anxiety down with his avoidance.

“I WILL stop talking to her, I WILL do anything you ask. Just DON’T hurt her.” Rima begged, bowing on her knees. 

“It’s too late for that… the command has ALREADY been given, and I do NOT go back on my orders. Let this be a lesson of what happens when you stray TO far from me. Daughter.” 

The anxiety held Rima down as she considered her options. She could NOT let this happen. It wouldn’t be happening if she had just stayed away from Alicia in the first place.

Which meant THIS was her FAULT. 

And she couldn’t sit by and let it happen.

So she stood without getting dismissed, and ran out of the room. She didn’t stop for shoes when she stormed out, and only skidded to a stop outside of the gate to gather her thoughts.

Which way? Had Alicia ever told her WHAT house they lived in? The shop they’d often visit came to her mind, and before she knew it her legs were moving.

She ran through the burning in her calves, and the aching of her feet. By the time she reached the shop her breath was strained, and labored.

The shopkeeper jumped back from the dispenser, his hand now placed on his chest from the scare Rima had given him.

“Oh GOODNESS child you almost gave this old man a heart attack.” He smiled at her once he calmed down to think straight.

“OHHH you’re the friend of that nice blond girl!” He dug a plastic capsule out of the machine and offered it to her.

“Her coin got stuck in the machine earlier, and she went home. Perhaps you can give this to her? I presume you’re on the way to see her?”

Rima accepted the capsule, and hurriedly touched his shoulder. “Which way?”

“Pardon?”

“Which way did she GO!”

“Ohh, I believe she went that way.” He pointed in a direction. Rima didn’t wait for his response. She let his shoulder go, and took off as fast as she could. The fatigue could NOT slow her down. She had to get to her goal.

As she rounded the corner, a BRIGHT blue thunderbolt went off in the distance. A light so bright that it temporarily blinded her despite being all the way at the END of the street.

“NO!”

[stardustbarbarians]

My Rosie

A Daniel Wagner Fic

Summary: Daniel spends the day with Rosie

Tags: pure fluff, Daniel became a doggie daycare, Rosie being a good girl

Words: 3.1 k

A/N: Hello, hi. I didn't mean for this to be as long as it turned out to be but I just kept getting carried away. Anyway, title taken from Mac Saturn's Plain Clothes Gentleman. Enjoy some Danny and Rosie content! (Also if you think Daniel wouldn't watch Twilight you're dead wrong and I will die upon this hill)

+++

Daniel hadn’t anything planned for the day, save for just lounging around and enjoying some free time. He’d been on his second movie in his marathon of the day: New Moon. He’d gotten to the scene in the film where Bella and Jacob had reunited - picking her up and twirling her around - when his phone started ringing. He looked at his phone and giggled to himself, Sam’s contact name of “baby Sam” with a rather unattractive photo of him taking up the entire screen. Pausing the movie, Danny answered the phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey Daniel, could you do me a favor today? If you can’t, I understand,” Sam asked, a tone of desperation in his voice. 

“What’s going on?” Danny sat up from his lounging position on the couch, alarmed at the urgency in Sam’s voice. 

“It’s nothing life threatening or anything, I promise. I just forgot that I had an in person interview today and I don’t want Rosie to be alone all day,” his best friend explained. Danny could hear shuffling from the other side of the phone. 

“You want me to watch Rosie for you?” 

“If you don’t mind. I know you said you were just gonna lounge about today, so if you don’t want her to interrupt, I’ll just ask one of the twins. But in all honesty, I trust you the most with her,” Sam replied. 

“No, I don’t mind at all. She’d be good company,” Daniel admitted. He was imagining spending his day with her; her cuddled up against him while they watched movies and then going for a walk later on in the evening after it cooled down. “Do you need me to pick her up?” 

“Actually, your place is on the way to where I’m supposed to be.” There was more shuffling, Rosie’s whines of excitement coming through the speaker of the phone. 

“Great, I’ll see you in a bit.” Danny hung up so that Sam could handle Rosie without having to hold his phone. 

It was a few minutes later that the two of them showed up at Daniel’s door. Sam looked a little frazzled, probably worried about showing up to the interview on time. He still gave Danny a big dazzling grin upon seeing him, though. He held Rosie’s leash in his hand, the dog looking out at the street at the cars passing by. “Hey, Daniel.”  

“Hello, you two,” Danny greeted before opening the door wider so they could enter his home. Sam led Rosie in, tugging gently on her leash to get her attention. Her long nails clacked against the hardwood floor, her collar jingling with each step she took. 

“So, I should be back by the time she needs to be fed dinner, but if not cooking up some rice and eggs will do the trick,” Sam informed as he handed the leash off to his best friend. 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

“You be good for Daniel, ok sweet girl?” Rosie’s tail began wagging at the sound of Sam’s voice. Daniel watched as Sam kneeled down and grabbed her head to give Rose a kiss on the top of her head, her tongue flicking out to return the kiss.

The bassist started to giggle and scratch behind the dog’s ears before getting up and addressing Daniel. 

“Thank you, again. I owe you big,” Sam restated, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“Really, it’s nothing. We’ll have tons of fun, right, Rosie?” Danny looked down at the dog to find her staring back up at him, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. 

The two men both laughed in admiration, the dog’s charm and cuteness getting to them. 

“Ah, shit!” Sam exclaimed after looking at the time on his phone, “I’m gonna be late!” 

When he turned back to look at Sam and wish him luck at his interview, Daniel was not expecting his head to be grabbed by the sides and pulled down so that Sam could plant a kiss right on his forehead. Before he could ask what that was, Sam was halfway to his car. 

“Good luck!” Daniel managed to call out after the bassist before his car door slammed shut. He and Rosie watched him pull out of the driveway and take off down the street. 

“Your dad’s a strange man, you know that?” Daniel asked the dog, looking down at her before closing the front door. He absently touched the spot on his forehead Sam kissed before kneeling down and unhooking the leash from Rosie’s collar. 

Once he’d stood up, the two stared at each other. There was a moment of “what next” that passed silently between them. It had been a while since the two interacted and even then Sam had always been there. This would be the first time they would be alone together, really alone. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to watching my movies. You’re more than welcome to join me,” Danny offered, making his way back into his living room. He heard the clicking of Rosie’s nails as she followed him to the couch, but stopped in front of it. 

She looked at Daniel as if she was asking him something. It was different from the other times she looked at him from the way she didn’t look away. 

“What is it, girl?” The question prompted her to tap her paws on the ground, her tail wagging. She was trying to communicate what she wanted, but Daniel didn’t know her well enough to know what that was. 

He was going over what she could be asking for when it hit him. “Are you asking if you can jump up on the couch?” 

Again, she tapped her paws on the ground. It was what she wanted. 

Daniel felt his heart melt at the idea of Rose asking for permission to get on the couch. She was so well mannered. He patted the spot next to him for her to take. She wasted no time leaping up on the cushion, curling up next to Daniel. He gave her a few quick pats on her head before he unpaused the movie. 

+++

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but suddenly he was blearily opening his eyes to find that he’d missed all of Eclipse. Bringing a hand to his eyes, he rubbed them before pausing the Cullens setting up for Bella and Edward’s wedding. It wasn’t until he moved to sit up that he realized Rosie had laid herself on top of his chest, contently snoozing away. She was coiled up in the shape of a crescent moon, her head resting on Danny’s pectorals. He took a moment to just admire how adorable she was before gently placing a hand on her back, her eyes flicking open at the contact. 

She looked over at him for a moment before he raised her head and yawned. Rosie shook her head before flopping over onto her side, her eyes once again meeting Daniel’s. They looked at one another before she brought her paw up and set it back down in a swiping motion. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?” he asked in a tender voice. Her tail began wagging at the sound of his voice. 

Again, she swiped her paw in the air before lifting it up to expose her belly. She kept looking up at Danny expectantly, her tail still wagging. 

“Do you want belly rubs?” Daniel recalled how much Sam would give her belly rubs when he saw them interact. She loved them and her back foot would kick feverishly when Sam scratched the right spot. Rosie swiped her paw one more time, nudging Daniel’s arm that she was resting on with her nose. 

Laughing and taking the hint, Danny used his free hand to start scratching a spot on her ribs. It took a few seconds, but eventually her foot started kicking in tempo with Danny’s scratching. He couldn’t help but chuckle as she continued scratching despite Danny having taken his hand away. They kept at this for another minute or so as their sleepiness left their systems. 

“Alright, I think I’ve had enough lounging about. Let’s go see if we can find a stick in the backyard,” Danny suggested before carefully scooping Rosie up in his arms and setting her down on the floor. He stood up from the couch, stretching his limbs and cracking his back in his unusual after-nap ritual. 

The pair walked together to the back sliding door, Rosie patiently waiting for Daniel to open the door before bolting out onto grass. He was very confused as to what would cause her to tear out of the house like that until he realized she was chasing a squirrel. He watched in amazement as she bounded close behind the animal, following its every move until it managed to scale the fence and perch atop it. The squirrel flicked its tail in aggravation, chittering down at Rosie as she stared up at it and paced. 

“Good girl, Rosie! Good job protecting my territory,” Daniel praised, his voice gaining her attention. She snapped out of whatever primal trance that squirrel put her in and bounded over to Danny, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. He bent at the knees in order to pet her fur upon reaching him. She circled around a few times so that she could get the maximum amount of pets from him, her tail wagging again. 

It wasn’t long until they were able to find a suitable stick to play with. Daniel would throw it for her, Rosie would bound after it and then she would bring it back for the cycle to repeat itself. There were a few times where Danny had to chase down Rosie in order to get the stick away from her, but he enjoyed himself greatly. After a while, Roise eventually tired out and she wanted to go back inside. Obliging, Daniel let her back in. 

“Are you thirsty, Rosie girl?” he asked her, filling up a cereal bowl full of water and setting it down on the floor. She immediately started lapping it up, Daniel running his hand over her back before sitting against his wall, pulling out his phone to check if Sam had texted him. 

Once she finished, she bounded up to him and started licking his face. Taken by surprise, Daniel burst out in laughter. She kept licking his face, inching closer and closer to get better access, Danny involuntarily sliding closer and closer towards the landing on the floor. He did eventually land on his back, his hands delicately trying to push Rosie away to save himself from her assault of affection. 

“Rose!” he laughed, finally able to get her to cease. He scratched at her sternum, using his other hand to wipe at the slobber on his face. Despite it being overwhelming, he couldn’t stop smiling at her. She would attempt to try and kiss his face every so often, but Danny would place his hand firmly on her chest so she would stay put. 

Eventually, he did get off the floor. His stomach growled, Daniel instinctively placing his hand on his stomach at the sound. It was then that he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Glancing at his phone one more time, he saw that Sam hadn’t even looked at his text yet and would probably be gone for another hour or so. 

“Guess I should start cooking,” Daniel announced, grabbing the handle to his fridge and peering inside. He decided that an omelet was a good choice as he had to make eggs for Rosie, anyway. 

Danny pulled out the egg carton, some cheese, some turkey lunchmeat. After looking up what type of rice is safe for dogs to eat, he pulled out a package of white rice and the rest of the ingredients for his omelet. He would periodically look over at Rosie while he cooked, checking up on her. She seemed a little bored which Danny didn’t take any offense to. Sam was always on the go, doing things with Rosie nearly every minute of the day he could. Taking pity on her, Daniel turned down the burner on the stove and walked back into the backyard. He managed to find the stick they’d played with earlier and brought it inside. 

She was waiting for him at the door, her tail wagging as he got closer. When he re-entered his home, she jumped up and tried to nip at the stick in Danny’s hands. He gladly handed it back to her, watching her trot off to the spot she was laying in the kitchen. She laid on her stomach and held the stick between her crossed paws, gnawing down on the wood. Periodically, she would glance back at Daniel and her tail would wag. 

After tying his hair up into a bun, Daniel finished up cooking dinner. He plated his omelet and then mixed the cooked rice with the scrambled eggs he made for Rosie. Setting his omelet down on the kitchen island first, Danny then placed Rosie’s food on the ground next to her water bowl. The two of them ate contently, Daniel scrolling through his instagram and seeing how the fans were doing. She finished eating before Danny did, licking her chops and laying down by his chair. 

“Did you like it? I know it’s probably not as good as what Sam can cook,” he asked, leaning over a little bit so that he could see her eyes. The dog kept licking her chops, maintaining eye contact with Daniel. After a moment, she licked Danny’s leg as if trying to reassure him that she enjoyed it. Chuckling to himself, Danny set his phone down and gave Rose a head scratch. 

Daniel collected the dirty dishes and put them in his dishwasher. Once that was done, he turned around and looked at Rosie to try and figure out what to do until Sam came back. He could go on a walk with her, but Sam might show up while they’re out. Maybe they could play fetch again? She seemed to really love that. 

While he was ruminating, the song playing through the speakers changed. A bluesy chord strummed on an acoustic guitar made his ears perk up, a familiar voice following soon after. It was Mac Saturn, a band he had become friendly with over the past year. They reminded Danny of his own band; a Michigan grown, blues inspired rock band just starting. It just so happened that the song that was playing was extremely fitting. 

My Rosie, scratch my back then she break it

My Rosie holds the leash to love

Daniel looked down at the dog sitting in front of him and smiled. He began singing along, directing the words towards the sweet pitbull that had kept him company all day. He started to dance along smoothly to the tune, Rosie following his movements and becoming somewhat of his dance partner. 

After the chorus finished and bled into the second verse, that’s when Daniel got down on one knee and cradled her little face in his hands. He felt the weight of her resting her head on his hands, the heat from her fur warming them up. 

“My Rosie need’s a man who’s gonna sit down and do it,” he sang, his tone coming out as if he was talking to a baby. 

“My Rosie needs a stone cold, sharp dressed, shooter,” he continued, leaning in close to her face and gently moving her chops back and forth to the tempo of the song. 

He wasn’t expecting her to lick his face, however, and he quickly recoiled as he smiled so big it scrunched up his face. It prompted him to let go of Rosie’s face, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her tail was wagging in delight as she kept nudging Daniel’s arm with her nose. He’d missed a few lines of the song, but he continued singing again when the lead-in to the chorus began. 

“If she’s got the answers, then why’s it so?” At the sound of his singing, Rosie’s tail wagged vigorously. She was excitedly tapping her paws on the floor of the kitchen, an open mouthed smile across her face as her tongue lolled out of her mouth. 

At the chorus, Daniel took hold of her paws in both of his hands and began dancing with her that way. The way he moved her front paws made it look like she was paddling in the air. He stayed kneeling on the ground so that she wouldn’t have to stand on her hind legs. 

He couldn’t stop grinning as they continued to dance. In fact, he was so in the moment that he hadn't even realized that someone had been watching the two of them for the better part of the song. 

“Should I start to get jealous?” came a voice to Daniel’s right. He and Rosie simultaneously whipped their heads around to look at who just startled them only to find Sam leaned against the wall  with his arms crossed. He had an easy smile on his lips that barely hid how endeared he was finding his best friend being so sweet towards his dog. 

Recognizing her owner, Rosie bounded towards him. Sam got down to her level, his arms opening wide to embrace the dog. Daniel got to his feet and watched in endeared silence as Rosie showered Sam with kisses and attention, Sam laughing freely and speaking sweet nothing to her. 

“So, how was it?” Danny asked after a moment. 

Sam gave Rosie one last kiss on the head before standing up. “It went well, although it was pretty exhausting.” 

Sam didn’t have to say so. Daniel could tell how drained he was just by looking at him. His smile didn’t have the same intensity it normally did and his shoulders were dropped lower than he usually carries them. 

“You were gone for a long time,” Danny added, choosing not to comment on how tired his best friend looked. 

“I’m assuming it went well with Rose? Am I going to have to share custody with you now?” Sammy joked, absently petting Rosie’s head as he slid against the wall down onto the floor.

“Aw, shit, I shouldn’t have sat down,” the bassist groaned, his face scrunching up as he cringed at the thought of having to get back up. 

“Sam, you can crash here. In fact, I’m not letting you out of that door,” Danny ordered, swiftly walking over to the front door and locking it. 

Sammy, seemingly too tired to argue, relinquished himself to his fate. Daniel had to physically pull him up from the floor, but other than that the rest of the night went well. Danny made Sam dinner and then ended up crashing on the couch together after Daniel made Sam watch Twilight with him. Rosie also fell asleep on the couch, stretching out across both of her favorite human’s laps. 

+++

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[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 38: The Mission)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won’t be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

I stared down at the file as the team waited for me to say something. A few tears slipped from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks, as I stared at the smiling face of a boy I no longer knew. The stark contrast between this photo and the one Tony had shown on the screen was almost uncanny. Tony wanted answers and called another meeting but I didn’t have any answers. I knew about as much as they did yet they were all waiting for me to say something, anything to soothe their concerns and curiosity, but I had nothing.

“Y/n?” Tony asked.

“Hm?” 

“What should we know about this guy?”

“Why don’t you ask Steve? He knows him better than I do.”

Steve steps forward. “I knew him before Hydra but this…” He points to the photo on the screen. “I’ve never seen this side of him.”

“He’s not all bad, Steve,” I answered, suddenly feeling the need to defend Bucky.

“Then tell us what he is, Y/n,” Tony said softly. “We only know what we’ve been told and the stories coming out about this guy… well they’re dark, Y/n. Perhaps you could help us shine some light on this guy… something about him we don’t already know.”

“Why? So you can kill him?” I spat, standing up from the table. Loki stood, taking my hand. 

“We’ll do what needs to be done,” Tony answered.

“Tony.-”

“No, Y/n,” Tony interrupted. “We’ll do what needs to be done.” 

“Darling, they’re just trying to help,” Loki reasoned.

“What are you asking me to do?”

“He’s asking what you’re prepared to do,” Thor answered, repeating the familiar words Fury had said to us not even a year ago. Tony nodded as Thor spoke and I sighed before speaking.

“This file will tell you nothing… at least not anything important. Hydra kept extensive files but nothing about who we were as people. These files tell you what we went through but not our history. At most you’ll get a few names they were able to pull from our memory but even they don’t know what they mean. It wasn’t important. According to them our lives started the moment we entered Hydra and anything before was irrelevant,” I said, closing the file in front of me. I couldn’t bring myself to look past the first page. It wasn’t mine to look at. “You won’t get what you need from this file.”

“And where will we get it?” Steve asked.

“From the Winter Soldier.”

The rest of the team stared at me as the words left my lips but Tony was the first to speak.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Tony asked.

“By giving him a mission.”

****

The next few hours were a blur as I explained the plan and Tony got to work. He would hack into Hydra’s files using what he’d gathered from the base I was held in and created a false mission, one that even Bucky would believe.

Target: Alexia Harrison

Wanted dead or alive.

What Bucky didn’t know was Alexia Harrison didn’t exist and never would. All he got was a blurry surveillance photo and an address that led to a home Tony had bought simply for this mission. I would be put on display in plain sight, waiting for Bucky to come kill me. Steve, Nat, and Tony would be placed strategically around the outside of the home in case Bucky decided to take the easy way out and just take me out with a sniper rifle. Bruce would be waiting with me in the home in case Bucky did what we all hoped and entered the home, at which point it was my job to get him to SHIELD by any means necessary.

Loki paced back and forth as the team prepared a quinjet to take us to the house. He’d been forbidden to come with us on this mission and I couldn’t help but agree with Tony’s decision. Colonel Rhodes, an old friend of Tony’s, would be staying at the tower with Loki while the rest of us handled the Winter Soldier.

30 minutes, Tony had said before leaving Loki and I alone.

“This is a bad idea and you know it!” Loki growled, taking my arm. “He’s a Hydra soldier! You really think you stand a chance against him?”

I pulled my arm away from him. “He won’t hurt me!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do, Loki! For the same reason I would never hurt you!” I shouted before I could stop myself. The words left my lips before I could stop them. His eyes softened yet there was hurt within them and I hated myself for it as he looked away from me.

“Y-you… you love him,” he whispered, more to himself than to me. “You love him!’ he hissed, eyes locking with mine once again.

“No, Loki. That’s not true,” I whispered, moving toward him. I took his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his. His tears dripped onto my cheeks as my own tears began to flow from my eyes. “I love you,” I whispered against his lips, willing him to believe me as I kissed him harder. He grabbed my waist, pressing me as close as possible, as his hand slowly moved to the back of my neck, tangling in my hair.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

“I have to, baby. We have to bring him in.”

“No,” he whimpered. “Don’t leave me.”

I finally realized what he meant. Don’t leave me. I could practically feel my heart breaking in my chest.

“Never,” I murmured, moving my lips to his neck. “You’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Baby, I have to leave soon.”

“Stark gave us 30 minutes, my love. I suspect we have around 25 left. Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes, sweet girl?”

My cheeks flushed as he spoke and I nodded. He smirked and gently guided us to the bed.

*****

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