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kettlefire · 8 months

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Kid Flash & the Prison.

Wally West doesn't believe in the supernatural.

Aliens? Sure. Atlanteans? Understandable. Clones? Yes, makes perfect sense.

Magic and ghosts? Party tricks.

It's not real, and it never will be.

That's the only reason he accepted the stupid bet. He knows Robin was just trying to rile him up, but he couldn't help it.

M'gann was so sure it was haunted. Swore up and down that it just didn't feel right, and tried to talk Wally out of it.

He wasn't going to wuss out in front of her. So he went in. He took up the bet and went inside the haunted old prison.

An hour. He just had to survive an hour in the creaky, dark, damp building.

That can't be so hard, right?

He steeled himself, laughed of the concerned looks, and went straight in. Ignoring the looming voice in the back of his head telling him to turn away.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him, a cold chill filled the air, and...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Wally could hear the slight dripping of an old pipe somewhere, but that was all.

The prison was just that. An old abandoned prison, falling apart on it's edges. That was it. Nothing more nothing less, and Wally laughed at himself for his stupid fear.

He zoomed through the building, going into every room. Looking at every nook and cranny. Taking pictures so make sure no one could say he stayed huddle at the door.

It wasn't until he reached the Warden's office that something happened.

It wasn't a big deal, Wally was just certain a draft knocked over one of those rotten wooden shelves. That's what the crash was, no need to fret. Wally absolutely didn't jump at the sound.

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, and pulled...

Nothing happened. The door refused to open. The knob turned, it wasn't locked. Yet it felt like door might be barricaded, so tightly that Wally couldn't even shove it an inch.

It only made Wally want to get in even more. He's been to every other inch of this prison, he wasn't going to let a rotten door stop him.

But then it happened. Translucent glowing green arms shot out of the wooden door, gripping at Wally's skin in an ice cold and bruising grasp.

He didn't scream. No, Wally shouted. That's all he did. It was manly, 100%, he just got a little jump scared that's it.

His comm crackled to life, and Wally could hear the voices of his team through thick static. He could barely make it out, what with trying not to get pulled into the door.

The old rotten door wasn't a door anymore. It swirled a glowing green and purple color, and the presence of it sent a chill down Wally's spine.

This time, as Wally felt the floor slipping from under him, Wally screamed. A blood curdling sound because this wasn't supposed to happen.

The speedster wasn't sure if he had just closed his eyes, or if he passed out. Yet, when he opened his eyes again he was in a prison.

A prison. Not The Prison.

The walls were a sickly purple grey, the sky above him was inky black with the occasional streak of green. And Wally realized very quickly, he wasn't on Earth anymore.

Maybe he should have been more concerned by the green beings dressed in riot gear circling around him. Or the fact that he was now wearing a grey and black jumpsuit, his super suit and mask completely missing.

But no. No the thing that sent a numbing wave of dread through was the man.

The man, who could barely be called a man, that loomed over him. Dressed in white and black suit. Whose skin was a deathly white.

An almost skeletal look to his face, yet Wally didn't doubt he strength and power in that man.

The man who called himself Warden Walker.

Walker wasted no time in listening a startling list of rules Wally had broken. Rules that would lead him to spend much too long trapped in this ghostly prison.

As much as Wally hated to admit it, that's what it was. Ghosts.

And he had no clue how to get free. Even as he was changed, and lead around the prison. To the mess hall. Even as Wally started down at the food that looked absolutely radioactive.

In this moment, Wally realized how screwed he truly was. Terrified of what would happen next. Would his friends try going into the prison after him?

How much time has even passed? Would his friends end up trapped here with him? Would they get worse treatment? How could a human be in a ghost prison?!

His spiraling panic and stressed came to a complete halt when she sat down. Grey skin and firey blue hair, Wally couldn't help but find her beauty enticing.

Her boyfriend, however, looked as if he could snap Wally in two. Looming forming, looking to be a metallic suit and firey green mohawk.

Wally really thought he was going to get the weirdest beat down of his life.

Except the conversation quickly shifter a plan for a riot. Talk of how to get Wally out of there. Leaving the speedster absolutely flabbergasted. Why would they help?

Every time Wally tried to ask the ghosts why, they kept brushing him off. Until finally he got an answer from Ember. Which only left him with more questions.

"Because the dipstick would be a bigger pain if we let a human stay here."

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dewana · 7 months

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"Die for you"

Syzoth x fem! Reader

Synopis: You’re on a mission with Syzoth, empress Mileena and Lord Liu Kang sent you both to investigate the sudden criminal activities happening on the outskirts of Sun Do.

3k words

Song: “Die for you”- Scott Bradlee’s postmodern jukebox

Warning: s m u t, minors dni

“Syzoth, what do you think is the cause of these riots?”

You were in a desert like place, it was the nighttime so the sun wasn’t as cruel. Little grains of sand crunched beneath your foot and you winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Few plants were in your line of vision only few cacti, which alerted you without plants your powers were useless. Of course you were skilled in hand to hand combat but it was better to be at full power when battling an unknown enemy.

“I do not know, my lady.” The reptile shifter answered not looking your way. You had a feeling he wasn’t fond of you, often avoiding your gaze or standing in the opposite side of the room. You were confused as to why he was behaving that way, have you upset him any way?

“There is no need to address me so formally, Syzoth.” You mumbled sheepishly, his gaze rested upon your face for a moment.

“You are Lord Liu Kangs paramour therefore your title is as such.” Your eyes widened at that statement.

Liu Kangs paramour? You wanted to laugh at that, he was your mentor nothing more. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips, you gently placed your palm on Syzoth’s shoulder.

“We are not lovers, he is sort of my boss… my mentor.” You explained, the tattooed man stopped dead in his tracks. He quickly turned around, his fist clenched at his sides. He had a rather serious expression, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

“You are not?” He asked again, and you shook your head affirmatively. He nodded quickly and resumed walking.

The rest of the walk was silent, the only noise was your feet shuffling on the ground. You did however catch a lot of subtle side looks from the reptile. Instead of walking ahead he walked along, helping you up a rock. Something changed within him after the conversation you two shared, you didn’t mind however that still hasn’t explained his past behavior.

“Syzoth have I done something to upset you?” You finally asked, the tension becoming unbearable, you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at you suprised.

“No not at all. Why do you think that?” He asked, you could feel roots growing along your ankles. Stress negatively affected your powers, they listened to your heart not your mind.

“Oh it’s just that, since we met you have been kind of avoidant of me? And I was wondering if I have upset you in some way? If i have I’m really sorry.” You mumbled, the roots tightening around your legs. Syzoth’s face held a warm expression, he scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

“You have done nothing wrong, it’s my fault actually. I thought that you and Lord Liu Kang were together and since he’s a god i did not want to make you uncomfortable or annoy you with my presence. I know that to many I am a freak and i did not want to scare you and disrespect Lord Liu Kang by being in your presence. A beautiful woman like you should not be forced to be in my presence, an ugly shifter.” He explained, eyes locked with the ground. You could not help the gentle laugh that escaped you, Syzoth raised his head at that.

“Oh, Syzoth” You mumbled and placed your palms on his cold ones. “You are very handsome, inside and out. You must not think so lowly of yourself, and I do not understand why you thought such things. I enjoy your presence.” You smiled and picked a small cacti that was dying on the sandy ground. You raised your hand above the small cacti and green light emerged from your palm, with your power the cacti grew stronger and greener, colorful flowers sprouted from the plant. “Even if you think of yourself lowly there are people like me that see the beauty in you, like this cacti. Someone noticed your potential and you grew into an honorable and kind man.” You handed him the healthy plant. He gently took the plant from your hands smiling slightly.

As you continued your journey you couldn’t help but ponder as to why he thought that he should erase himself from your presence if you were “with” Liu Kang. There was no point in overthinking the matter when you could just ask him.

“If you don’t mind answering I have a question.” Syzoth nodded “Why would me being with someone be so important that you avoid me?” You could see the man tense when the words left your lips.

“I um, I was infatuated with you the moment my eyes fell upon yours, but since I thought you were with someone the best thing for me to do was purge myself of those feelings and it was easiest avoiding you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to contain myself, your beauty, your smile, how kind you are to everyone, how nice and warm you are.” He stopped immediately after muttering those words, you could see a little bit of a green hue on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but sprouting the same red hue on yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, he shyly gazed into yours.

“You liked me?” You asked stepping a bit closer to the man.

“Still do, my technique did nothing.” He admitted slightly embarrassed “I thought day and night about you, nothing really helped.”

"If now you know that I'm single will you act on your feeling?" You asked curiously.

"Would you like me to?" He responded his tone equally curious, you nodded you head slightly. Syzoth stepped even closer, your chests almost touching, he lowered his head so your foreheads were touching. You placed your hand on his cheek, he placed his much larger cold hand over yours, wanting to feel him even closer you pressed your lips against his. Syzoth melted in your hold, quickly becoming putty, his lips searched yours feverishly but before he could deepen the kiss you pulled away.

"After the mission is complete, If you want I can share my warmth with you." The reptile shifter nodded excitedly, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Does that mean you're mine?" He asked hopefully.

"If you want me to be." Syzoth nodded eagerly.

You finally arrived at the rebel camps, you observed it from above a mountain, you laid on your stomach a knife in your hands, Syzoth turned invisible but was still close to you.

"100 to 150 tents filled with max 14 people over two thousand rebels." You spoke quietly to the earpiece that was connected to the current Umgadi on duty which was Tanya.

"Understood, do no engage in combat as of now, there is backup heading your way. Syzoth sneak into the camp and find out as much as you can about their plans." Tanya spoke through the intercom, you nodded at her orders.

Syzoths invisible hand tapped your shoulder signalising he was heading into the camp, you nodded and kept observing the camp. The leader, someone wearing the army's uniform that was enforced under Shao.

"Their leader is someone from Shao's army." You spoke to the intercom. "I do not know who he is but he's wearing an army uniform."

"That should not be possible, we interrogated and disposed of any survivors of Shao's unit." Tanya's voiced echoed in your ear

"Maybe he escaped and started to follow in the generals footsteps." You entertained that idea but it seemed foolish, Shao along with Reiko were defeated and killed for the crimes against Outworld.

"The reinforcements are in close proximity to your location, attack the camp but do not kill anyone, capture the so called leader and bring him to Sun Do before Empress Mileena."

You moved back from your current position to greet the aiding troops. Li Mei as their leader, you bowed with respect.

"First Constable" You said and hugged the woman, she returned the gesture and smiled warmly.

"Earth mage." She responded "Where is Syzoth?" She asked

"Spying I shall tell him to regroup." You turned from the woman and switched channels to Syzoths earpiece. "Syzoth? Regroup the aid is here and we attack once you return." The reptile shifter suddenly appeared next to you his invisibility fading.

With everyone ready you prepared a silent ambush to take the rebels by surprise. Injuring as little people as possible, Syzoth was behind you his invisibility once more in full effect.

You noticed three entrances that lead to the mountain protected camp, once all the troops entered you dug your heel into the rocky ground and raised your palms, the entrances were closed by walls of rock, alerting the rebels but before they could prepare the Sun Do police were already in the works.

You ran towards where you last saw the leader, a well built man with a helmet covering his head. He was walking towards the largest tent in the camp surely it belonged to him. You sealed of the exits with cacti roots and grabbed the man in a chokehold. He was a skilled fighter but you were even better, defeating him without breaking a sweat Syzoth reappeared at your side, tying up the man.

In this moment you felt a bit of relief flow through you, Syzoth and you were unharmed and you caught the vigilante. But that feeling was trampled when a second person emerged from the shadows, dagger in hand aiming for your back. In second Syzoth shielded you with his own body, when you regained your senses the man was trying to escape to notice that the exits were sealed off.

"Big mistake buddy" You said angrily, running towards him and kicking him in the side of his head, he fell on the ground instantly. Your roots wrapped around his limbs. "Tanya, target secured we're moving out." You notified the Umgadi and quickly moved to Syzoth who was clutching his side, green blood dripping from his fingers. He sat on the ground and you quickly kneeled next to him. "Show me." He reluctantly moved his palm revealing a nasty gash. You sucked in a breath and ripped a part of your sash to tie it around his abdomen. "Take off your shirt." You ordered

"I thought we're doing that after the mission?" He teased and sucked in a sharp breath as you tied the material around the wound.

"Unfortunately you're not a plant so I can't heal you but I'm sure the police have a medic with them. You'll be fine." You mused helping him up. "Li Mei everything taken care of?" You asked through the intercom.

"Affirmative, a few minor injuries but we're fine."

"I'm gonna need aid, Syzoth got stabbed but the target is secured."

Soon enough three of Sun Do's police arrived at the scene taking the target into custody, you helped Syzoth out of the tent and out of the camp.

Empress Mileena congratulated you both on a mission well done, granting you favour in her court. Syzoth was rushed to this room along with a doctor who would heal him, you went to visit him after sharing your report with Tanya and Liu Kang.

"Syzoth?" You asked after knocking on his door. You noticed the injured man laying beneath a heavy duvet only his eyes visible. "Cold?" You teased

The reptile avoided your gaze, shifting between the window and the door where you were standing. You noticed the uncared for plants in the corners of his room, with your magic you restored their healthy and vibrant forms. You sat on the corner of his bed, he refused to look at you, which saddened you.

"Syzoth what's wrong?" You asked placing you palm on his chest, he took a deep breath and tried to sit up to the best of his abilities. You helped him of course, placing a few pillows behind him for comfort.

"I do not want you to see me in this state." He whispered, his voice hoarse and sad.

"Why on earth shouldn't I see you in this state? You took a blow for me, I'm thankful." You scoffed, and awaited further explanation.

"I do not want you to see me weak, it is unbecoming of a potential mate." He quickly explained, the tips of his ears turning green.

You laughed at that, and climbed over Syzoth, he followed your every movement with curious eyes.

"You sacrificed your health for me, you protected me that is exactly what a mate does." You used his definition of a partner to help him understand better. "You're very hard on yourself, you didn't even have to protect me, I could take the blow." Syzoth very quickly sat on the bed with you in his lap, you combed through his short hair.

"I would die for you" He spoke seriously, his gaze stern and searching your approval.

"Don't die for me, live for me." You answered pressing your forehead against his. The reptile shifter basked in your warmth, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face hidden in your neck. You gently petted his hair then his back. You noticed the subtle goosebumps appearing on his skin. You felt his lips on your neck.

"Syzoth" You said breathlessly "You're injured, we shouldn't" You spoke not fully convincing yourself.

"You said you'd share your warmth with me once the mission is over." He argued pressing feather kisses to your jaw.

"I didn't take into account you could get hurt." You whispered against his lips. But before you could say anything more, he connected your lips silencing you. His hands roamed from your waist to your hips, you in turn wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer.

His tongue moved against yours, teeth clashing and subtle moans stained the air. You gripped his short hair and pulled his head away from you to catch your breath. In that moment Syzoth stared at you, eyes full of passion and lust. You could feel his groin stiffen under you, and you took in a sharp breath. Your hands found themselves on his broad chest, leaning in for another hungry kiss.

"Please beloved" He moaned in your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours. You finally gave into the temptation, stripping your top and bottoms leaving you half naked in your lingerine. Syzoth was topples, his abdomen covered in white bandages, loose undergarments covered his manhood that was becoming more noticeable.

You smiled into the kiss but pulled away soon enough he whined at the loss of contact and warmth you provided his cold body. Pressing your palm to his chest, pushing him slightly so he would lay on the bed. You palmed him through his undergarments, applying just enough pressure to have Syzoth moaning breathlessly.

"Take them off." He eagerly followed your order, leaving him completely bare before you. His dick pink and leaking precum at the tip, twitching occasionally. You could barely wrap your hand around him, nonetheless you stroked his dick in a slow but firm motion. Syzoth reached towards you, pleasure already making him hazy. You took off your panties and tossed them behind the huge bed.

"Please wanna feel you, please." The reptile shifter begged glancing at you through half lidded eyes, his chest heaving with laboured breaths as pleasure coursed through his body. You obeyed his wishes and once again straddled him, his dick snugly fitted between your tighs and lips. Syzoth moaned at the warmth from your body so close to his dick. He sat up swiftly grabbing your ass, his head laid between your breasts and you couldn't help but giggle. You entangled you fingers into his hair, but quickly abandoned the soft gesture to take off your bra. Syzoth stared at your pebbled nipples, and quickly wrapped his lips around the left one, you moaned quietly slightly moving your hips against his erection. Syzoth shuddered at that, kissing your right breast.

You propped yourself up on your knees and grabbed his dick and aligned it with your entrance. Lowering yourself slowly on his girth, you bit back a groan of discomfort and pain that you felt at the new contact.

Syzoth moved his fingers to your clit and rubbed comforting circles on it, shocks of pleasure coursing through you and him. As the discomfort subsided you lowered yourself even more, Syzoth tried not to buck his hips up into you. When he finally bottomed out you started moving, riding him gave you great pleasure no doubt. He fit snugly in your velvety walls, rubbing all the right spots.

The shifter gazed at you lovingly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure, airy moans escaping your lips, breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips. He massaged them with his large cold hands, yours found themselves on his chest once more.

"Please baby, let me make you feel good." Syzoth spoke breathlessly stilling your movements, you cracked an eye open and nodded. He pulled out and flipped you on your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he re-entered you quickly, already missing your warmth.

"Can I move?" He asked once he bottomed out inside you.

"Yes please." You answered and leaned in to press your lips together, Syzoth began to roll his hips into your heat.

"Please Syzoth faster." You whispered, he obeyed and thrusted deeper and harder, placing one hand on the headboard, the other placed right behind your head.

You could feel the familiar knot forming in your abdomen, Syzoth noticing how you squeezed him, pressed circles into your clit, doubling the pleasure and quicken your upcoming orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum, Syzoth yes like that." You moaned your nails digging into his back, Syzoth himself could feel the knot in his abdomen almost snap but he wanted to make you feel good first.

"I'm almost there baby." He groaned, thrusting into you quicker his pace turning a bit sloppy and erratic indicating his near climax.

The change felt so good your eyes rolled back to your skull, body spasming and pussy fluttering around his dick. That was just what he needed to burst the knot in his abdomen.

"I'm cummin'" he groaned "Baby please let me" His chest heaved words not making sense. "Inside s'warm please" He begged and you nodded giving into the pleasure.

You could feel him spurting thick white ropes into your heat, he thrusted a few times to ride out his orgasm. He panted above you, brows scrunched and lips pressed together. A thin sheet of sweat covered you both, a distinctive aroma of sex filled his quarters.

"Can we stay like this?" He asked moving to lay beside you, his dick softening inside you. You nodded throwing your leg over his hip nestling him even deeper inside. Syzoth's head pressed onto your breasts you smiled and kissed the top of his hair. "I want to stay like this forever. You're so warm and wet and smell so good." He panted out the words, and you could feel something growing hard inside you once more.

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sickuma · 11 months

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SAUDADE — a Leon fic.

❱ It's my first time using tumblr again in a really long time so I have no clue what is happening!!! I'm trying my best to make this look presentable (T-T) there are no other fonts, and the color text options are limited *riots* but it's fine, I can work with this.

As some of you may know this fic is originally from an au i made on tiktok yesterday! I'm gonna continue this one to test tumblr and see how it goes :D this is unedited! there may be errors | spelling or grammatical errors.

➴ SYNOPSIS — Leon desperately clings to the remnants of you. Avoiding any sign of acceptance that you're gone.

SAUDADE — (n.) A nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains."

—To say he's lost would be an understatement, he feels so much more than just lost. He sat on the floor, leaning on the bed for support as he stared at the void,

He wondered, what's the point? What's left for him to keep going? Maybe if he'd wreck his life, maybe if he did unspeakable things,

Maybe then you'd come back just to scold him. Give him an earful about how stupid he is. He chuckled shortly, though it sounded desolate. Almost hollow.

He stared down at a shirt he held tightly, your shirt. He clung to it, nuzzling his face deep into the piece of cloth, desperate to inhale what's left of your scent stuck on the fabric. He wished it wouldn't go away, but as days went by, your scent vanished.

It was as if he'd lost you the second time. He hated how pathetic he felt, he hated how much he cried but all this self hatred was never enough to mask the guilt, the grief, the longing. He needs you,

He needs you back.

The air was suffocating, it's as if you took his heart and lungs with you the day you passed. But that's not possible, he can feel everything. His heart is here, away from where you are. He couldn't accept it, will he ever?

He reached for his phone from where he'd abandoned it, sitting back down on the hard floor. He stared at the screen, dried tears visible from his face.

If you were here, you'd have wiped them before they got the chance to dry up.

His eyes flickered with bitterness. He despised his state, he was a mess. The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he frowned, turning the phone on and clicking your number to dial.

It's his nightly routine ever since you've been gone. With hitched breath, he would call you, knowing you wouldn't answer. It's unhealthy—the lump on his throat felt deadly.

He would call you over a dozen times, staring at the ringing phone, until your voicemail plays,

"Not in the proximity of answering, call you back when I can!"

He listened intently, eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall. He finds himself crying yet again,

Your voice, It was the only remaining remnant of you he could hold onto. It's also the reason for his tears every 4 am, when he'd long to hear you. Wishing he could feel your gentle touch wipe his tears,

He hated how the smallest details of you slowly wither away from his mind. The look in your eyes, their color, how soft your hair felt, the beauty marks he adored.

He despised how easily they wilt away, as if his own mind protects him from his despair. Despite that, he'd frantically search for his phone to stare at a photo of you,

Taking in every detail.

Desperately memorizing all parts of you, everything he loved the most. He needed it to stay, he can't forget you,

It would feel as if he's betraying you.

"[name] just why—" he paused, "Why did you have to be the one to go? Why can't it be someone else?"

His voice broke. He sounded weak, vulnerable. Voice rough from a week long of crying, and not speaking to anyone. He is indeed a mess, crying for you as if doing so would bring you back.

He threw his head back, rubbing his face with a heavy sigh. It felt heavy, almost heavy enough to bring him down. He couldn't take it, he needed you back, it felt as if he's on the verge of breaking apart.

"How could you leave me?"

His hands stayed covering his face, as he wept, as he sobbed. Uncontrollably crying, the pain on his heart clouding his rational thoughts,

He'd felt bad for not visiting your grave but he couldn't. Not another step close to where you rest, his body had already trembled uncontrollably. He couldn't do it,

He can't last longer than a few seconds, especially not around anybody else. He had felt terrible for not attending the funeral, and for spending the whole day desperately searching for something—anything—that can possibly be a remedy for his ache,

He'd grip your clothes, hold the sheet of the bed you once laid on tightly close to him, desperate to inhale your presence. Desperate for any sign that would convince him you're still here,

"I can't… I really can't."

He broke down, not caring if he'd look crazy. He spoke as if you were there with him, like he wished, "

How could emptiness feel so heavy? You'd left, leaving a void for him to fill, but what could ever fill the void of losing one's love, of one's wonderwall, of one's reason to live. What could possibly heal him?

He swallowed hard, wiping his face as he looked up. Attempting to stand up, he's pretty sure he'd knock some things over by doing so,

He lays on the bed, grabbing the blanket the both of you used. Holding it near his face, covering half of him as he laid sideways, hugging the blanket which once kept him warm next to you, hoping he'd retrieve the same warmth.

"Come back please."

He closed his eyes shut, inhaling what's left of your scent. Tears brimming on his eyes,

"Come back to me."

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #asks are open #leon kennedy x y/n #re4 remake #leon angst #angst #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy ask #leon kennedy angst #re4 remake leon #re4 leon #resident evil ask #resident evil angst #resident evil leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n

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kitthepurplepotato · 4 months

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Chapter 2 - Smile for me, Red.

Summary: Kirishima comes to collect his usual coffee with a worn down, fake smile on his face. Y/N’s having none of it.

I know I said the next chapter will come in two weeks, but you guys sent me so much love I can’t help but post another one. The next one will be late, though!

Warnings: Swear words

First Chapter Master List

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“Did you just come in through window?” You deadpan as your himbo of an uncle sneaks in through the manager’s office window, ten minutes late.

“Didn’t want people to see me.” The old man sighs as the plops down on the nearest chair.

“You shouldn’t have put your signature on the wall then.” You raise your brows and your manager nods approvingly. “Also, Red Riot works next door. He won’t be much of a help to the society if he dies in a heart failure after seeing you sneaking around their private parking spot.”

“How did the boy like the present, Y/N?” Crimson Riot winks, his hair just as obnoxious and spiky as always; okay you have no right to say anything about his hair as your own is the same color, but still, those spikes might have worked when he was 30, but they aren’t working now. “I can’t believe my little girl finally met her crush. Do you remember, when…” Your uncle is about to start reminiscing but you ain’t having any of that.

“This is a work meeting, Uncle. I know you hate talking about numbers but you are the fucking owner so shut up and listen to my manager.” You sigh, already knowing he’ll try to change the topic again as soon as the meeting actually starts.

Okay, so here’s the deal: your uncle is like a second dad to you. Why? Because your mom and dad are both businessmen and they travel around a lot which made your retired uncle your almost full time babysitter after you grew up enough to be able to move around and exist without choking on air. Your parents love you, you know that but they live for their jobs.

Watching the school festival in the TV was one of your favorite things to do with your uncle; he adores seeing the young heroes challenging each other without the putrid smell of death lurking around the corner; being a hero can be quite fun when you are still in school but the real deal is nothing like the silly little work studies; it’s gruesome and cruel, full of blood and loss, but watching these young students fight so seriously for nothing but a gold medal kinda makes you forget about all of the dark side for a second and just enjoy the show.

You were around fourteen or fifteen when the young, sturdy hero wannabe appeared on the screen for the first time; his passion and positive attitude caught both of your eyes right away and it didn’t take long before the word went around about the boy being a massive Crimson Riot fan so needless to say, you two spent most of your time searching the internet for more information about the young boy and eventually, this became a family tradition every time you had to spend the night at your uncle’s house. First, it was only tiny articles you could find, but eventually as he got older there were full interviews available for you to watch with your uncle after a shitty day at work. You don’t come by his house that often anymore, but when you do, Red Riot always comes up. The story your uncle was about to tell is probably about you having an absolute crush on the boy when you first saw him on the screen; you remember getting really flustered by his adorable smile, shark teeth and all. Crimson Riot always liked to joke about how funny it would be to have Red Riot join your little family and you always yelled and laughed at your silly uncle for being ridiculous, but seeing him in really life really made you question if your uncle secretly wanted you two to meet and make your dreams a reality, hence why the cafe ended up to be so close to their agency.

Also, it’s not like you actually had a crush on him; maybe when you were 15 you really did crush on the boy but now you are 25 and definitely way past the celebrity crush phase; you two kept up your tradition and watched his interviews every week, but it was more of a habit than anything else.

The meeting doesn’t take long; your manager mumbles out a bunch of numbers then after one look at your uncle’s confused face she realizes that “the big boss” did not check his e-mails this week so she tells him that the business is going well and that’s enough for him to leave your manager alone for another week or so. He doesn’t really care about the money anyway; having a cafe was on his bucket list so he made it happen and he really doesn’t give a fuck about the rest until he’s not actually loosing money on it. This whole meeting isn’t really necessary to be honest but it’s a way for him to feel included; he doesn’t want anyone to know his connection to the cafe so he can’t really lurk around during opening hours. It’s quite silly as the name of the coffee shop literally has his name in it, but to be fair, he’s been retired for a decade, no one really gives enough fucks to put one and two together. Except Red Riot, but he’s too busy being an excited golden retriever to question how did you manage to get him a signature so soon.

“Okay, it’s almost opening time, let’s get shit done.” You sigh, not ready for another 12 hour shift.

Why do you work so much? The answer is really easy; you have nothing else to do. Yes, quite sad. Now let’s move on.

“Language!” Your manager reprimands but you only roll your eyes at that; you’ll never understand why are people so obsessed with swear words. They are just words. They are completely harmless.

Red Riot appears a few minutes after the doors open; he doesn’t jump around this time, doesn’t even look at his favorite poster, just comes straight to the counter with the fakest smile on his tired, but handsome face.

Oh no.

First of all, Red Riot being sad? That’s unacceptable. That guy is a ray of sunshine all the time, you swear you can see a trail of rainbow coming out of his gorgeous and juicy ass as he skips towards his agency every day.

Second of all, how dare he look so fucking handsome even with those massive Gucci bags under his eyes? How dare he make you feel like you need to smush his face between your boobs until he gives you that typical shark-smile you adore so much?

Oh man, you are so gone. So fucking gone and the man in front of you has no fucking idea about it.

“Can I have my usual, please?”

“No.” Red Riot looks gobsmacked. He’s clearly not in the mood for teasing but he schools his face anyway; he tries to laugh it off, he really tries, but he can’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Not until you tell me who made my favorite customer look so miserable. I need to start plotting a murder here, fella.” You mumble to him in a baby voice. Your upper body is basically laying on the counter at this point; you try to get as close to the red haired hero as humanly possible without being too obvious. Well, this is already extremely obvious but you have a feeling you could kiss this man on the mouth and he would still think you are just being friendly. Silly boy.

“You can’t murder something that doesn’t exist, Y/N.” He tries to smile again and fails miserably.

“It’s all in your head, isn’t it?” You mumble to yourself, but he jumps into your sentence.

“No, I mean there is no problem, I don’t know what you are talking about! Can I have my coffee? Please?” The redhead begs, but you can’t let this go. This man won’t leave this shop until he gives you a real smile.

“There is a lot of things I hate you know, but what I hate the most is when someone I care about lies into my face.” You retort angrily. “But I will give you another chance to redeem yourself by asking this: what can a poor little barista do for you to make that smile on your face a real one?” You can’t help it; your hand reaches out to the two sides of his lips and you push the skin up to force him to “smile”. His cheeks redden from the sudden closeness and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “I’m a good listener, you know. I also give good advice. This is also the perfect opportunity for you to say that a date with me would cheer you up. I’m just saying!” You finally let him go. Damn, thank god for your poker face because deep inside, you are absolutely freaking out about how close you were to him just a second ago. He smelled so fucking nice, quite strong but there is a hint of sweetness to it which you absolutely love.

“I… I think… that… maybe…” The man stutters adorably, his whole face as red as a lobster. “I just need a …hug? I might cry a bit though. I feel a bit lonely today plus I had a nightmare and…” You don’t wait for him to finish his sentence. You jump right through the stupid counter; you did get some training from your uncle so you are more than capable to do all kind of tricks like that; then run right into the stupidly tall man’s arms.

First, he just stands in one place, his arms hanging by his sides as you cuddle into his humongous chest; then slowly, he lets the facade crumble. There are tiny sniffles coming from the redhead as he finally puts his arms around you; the hug is tight, almost suffocating, but fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. You are not sure if it’s him who needed that or it was just you.

“Stop being so nice to me, I’ll fall in love with you.” He mumbles into your ears; you can feel the goosebumps going down your spine from his husky voice.

“Stop lying to yourself, Red, you are already in love with me.” You giggle as you leave a cheeky kiss on the man’s chin to make sure he has something else to think about today.

“Guilty as charged.” Red Riot’s signature grin is finally back and damn if it doesn’t hit differently from this angle. Your heart has a really hard time with the fact that he didn’t even try to deny his crush on you.

“Go to work, Red.” You smile at the hero and make your way back to finally make his coffee. “On the house.” You give him his latte, but not before you leave a tiny kiss on the redheads cheek. “And this too.” You smile at him fondly.

“Amazing customer service. 10/10. Tell your manager to give you a raise. Or something. Yeah. Uhm. Bye.”

You’ll never forget his manic grin as he ran out of the door and went the wrong way by accident. He almost head butted a pole as well.

Fucking hell, you absolutely adore this man.

Is it a crush? Is it love? Or is it just fondness? You have no idea. One thing for sure; you can’t wait to meet him again tomorrow.

~•🪨•~

Kirishima is in pieces.

He got a hug from his favorite barista. And a kiss. On his chin. And his cheeks… fuck, that’s two whole kisses. Not one, but two. And a hug.

Did he say, he got two whole kisses today?

Oh. He did.

Well, he will say it again.

Kirishima Eijirou just got a kiss from the most amazing girl in the whole city.

Who did?

He did.

“Wake the fuck up, Eijirou!” Katsuki yells into his face, the violent action topped up with a not-too-sneaky explosion attack, but even that’s not enough for him to completely get out of it; he stares at the lovely coffee in his hands, caramel latte with extra whip cream and chocolate shreds.

You know who made this coffee for him? The girl who kissed him. She did. Kiss him. On the cheek. And on his chin. Two kisses. Two.

Ahh, what a day to be a guy named Kirishima Eijirou.

What a day indeed.

“Katsuki, I think I’m having a fat ass crush.”

“Fucking marvelous, now can you give me the fucking agency stamp before I explode you through your asshole?” Katsuki sighs.

Kirishima is so proud of his bro. He’s been through a lot this year; he’s lost his assistant (no, she’s not dead, just pregnant. No, not from Katsuki, you cheeky bastard.) then got a new one he fell in love with, then he almost lost that person due to a quirk accident. Oh, and he almost died due to a quirk called “anguish” that makes you relive your worst nightmares until you give up and decide death is much better than the suffering that comes with it.

If that’s not enough, Katsuki’s feelings were reciprocated and Katsuki is basically a married man now who wakes up early every day to pack two bentos for his fiancé and himself, sometimes three when he feels generous towards his best bro. Katsuki is still his own, explosive self, don’t get Kirishima wrong; but he’s also much more emotional, much more patient when it comes to Kirishima’s silly flaws. He loved the old Katsuki just as much as he loves this one but he does feel like they’ve got much closer since Katsuki managed to open up to the world a bit more. He’s so proud of his best buddy.

“Sorry, bro.” Kirishima smiles at his best bud with nothing but fondness. Katsuki only rolls his eyes.

“So… how is she? Or he. Or whatever. They. Dunno.” He mutters and Kirishima perks up right away; his bestie is so open-minded, goddamit!

“She’s beautiful and kind. She smells really nice. She teases me all the time and doesn’t even see me as a man I think, but every single moment with her feels like a gift.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything first, he just looks at Kirishima, searching for something; Kirishima has no idea what he’s looking for.

“You know there is one thing I realized since I… uhm. Fell in love or whatever…”

“Yeah?”

“No one will be able to love you if you can’t even love yourself.” Katsuki retorts with his ears tinted red. “So work on that before you do anything stupid.”

Hm. Love yourself. Kirishima can do a lot of things, but self-love ain’t one of them. Self-hatred? Kirishima is secretly a pro at that. Self-pity? He’s number one at that as well.

But self-love? Zero points.

He has a long way to go before he can ask the girl of his dreams on a date then.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Wow, this chapter was so short! Sorry about that! The chapters will get longer as the story develops by the way, so don’t worry :D

- Thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter, I couldn’t fucking believe it, to be honest. I literally thought no one will respond to it, yet it got hundred likes in less than a week. Thank you so much, you actually made me tear up. I hope you will like this story until the end! 💜

TL (how is this so long already, I love you guys so much, honestly!): @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou x reader #kirishima eijirou x y/n #kirishima eijirou x you #Kirishima Eijirou #Kirishima #red riot x reader #red riot x you

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naffeclipse · 4 months

Note

Okay so you’ve got that Naga brain riot, right? I saw an ask about if SJ Eclipse was a naga along with Sun and Moon of that AU.

But LISTEN. My brain conjured this:

Mob Boss Sun and Moon plus Chief Eclipse from that one SJ AU as nagas?

Wanna know what's worse than one mob boss-esque naga? Two mob boss-esque nagas! Granted, SID Sun and Moon aren't as violent leaning as SJ Eclipse, but they're still very much about man-handling and taking what they want when they want it.

SID Sun and Moon take after the yellow anaconda with long, muscular bodies. Sun displays a vibrant yellow color with round brown and black splotches throughout, whereas Moon is a deep cobalt blue with sharper, crescent-like gray and red splotches. Both are sinister and cunning and are deeply enthralled by you.

Since you've attracted so much attention from other rivals in the jungle, they don't mind using you as they deem fit. That's not to say they don't have a certain hunger for you, they simply mean to take advantage of your high demand to coerce you into leading other nagas right where they want them so they might take out the competition.

Of course, you're not a very willing participant. You resist and deny them your assistance but they refuse to let you go so easily. Whichever way you step, there's Sun, blocking your path with his wide smile and long body, and when you turn around, Moon is coiled, cutting off your exit. He's not so polite in pointing out that you're cornered. When you're surrounded by the two, you almost wonder if there is truly nowhere to run. They tend to trap you between them, with Moon grabbing your waist from behind and Sun holding your chin tightly in his palm. They muse and hiss over you, wondering when you'll realize that it's only their way. They'd rather not see your pretty face get red and flushed from constantly fighting.

(They're lying.)

Police Chief Eclipse on the other hand is the most caring of all the Eclipse nagas. His dark and burgundy scales lie low along the wetlands and marshes, and his wide, soft amber eyes follow your every step, hoping you don't trip. He's concerned for you. He's the one to warn you to leave, even if he'd rather you stay a little longer. He tells you again and again that you shouldn't be here. You should stay at the base with the other two humans. You don't listen—you're stubborn and scared—and that frustrates him to no end (and endears him). His heart aches at all you endure from each creature. He's had thoughts of simply carrying you away, far from the jungle, where he shouldn't venture, just to make sure you'll be okay. He wants you out of reach from his brothers.

But of course, you don't listen. He's forced to keep up with your precarious position in the jungle.

#bittyfromquotev #the serpent den #sid naga au #syzygy in dedication #y/n: at least it can get any worst than sj clip #sid sun and moon: heyo #y/n: ben affleck meme

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

hello 👋

I would like to request something for Alpha 17, he deserves all the love and kisses and I thought something with a hot and heavy makeout session, idk I normally don’t request so I don’t know if this is correct 🫠

thanks and much love 💕

So This Is Love

Summary: Alpha is late coming to bed, so you go and get him.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 937

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This is a totally fine request! Thank you so much for making it! I love writing Alpha-17.

Divider by Saradika

It’s late. So late that you’re pretty sure that everyone has gone to bed, but you’re still awake, your burning eyes locked on the holo, and darting to the chrono on your wall every now and then.

The minutes are ticking away, and it’s nearing one am at this point.

But Alpha-17 still hasn’t returned to your rooms.

And you’re starting to grow concerned.

You push yourself to your feet and slip a pair of shoes on, before you open the door and step into the dimmed hallway. You silently ghost by the cadet dormitories, as well as the nursery for the tubies, and you follow the simple blue line on the wall that leads to Alpha’s office.

The Kaminoans were forced to give Topica City to the clones. You’re not really sure why, but you know the Jedi insisted on it.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter, because you were able to hand the cadets as much paint as their little hearts desired, and now the walls are a riot of color.

And one clever young cadet drew perfect lines on the walls leading to the trainers offices.

So you set your hand on the blue line, and you followed it down the hall.

You reach Alpha’s office and key in the door code, and then you step into the well lit room. True to your thoughts, your perfect man is still behind his desk, one hand tangled in his hair, while his exhausted gaze remains locked on the datapad in his hands.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” His voice is a low rumble, and you close your eyes as his voice washes over you, you can sit and listen to him talk for hours.

“Shouldn’t you?” You retort with a small laugh.

Alpha’s head snaps up, and he favors you with a small smile, “Cyare.” He greets you quietly, as he pushes his seat back slightly.

“You didn’t come to bed.” You explain as you cross the room, and sit on his lap. You reach up and lightly trail one finger down his jawline, “And I thought that I had better come and check on you.”

Alpha sighs and leans into your touch, “You should be asleep.” He chides without any heat in his voice.

“How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me?” You retort with an easy smile.

He chuckles and leans in to press his face against your neck, “So what you’re saying is that I spoil you?”

You hum in response and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, “I think I deserve to be spoiled, as a treat.”

He laughs outright at that, “Do you?” Alpha asks as he pulls away to look at you.

“I do.” You grin at him.

“Hm, well then. What does my little love want most?” He teases, his large hand coming up to brush the back of your neck.

“Mm…a billion credits.”

He laughs again, “Sorry, love. I don’t think my backpay will be that much.”

You heave an exaggerated sigh, “Well, I suppose I can make do with a kiss.”

“Only one?”

“Or two…or ten?”

“Greedy,” Alpha murmurs as he pulls you in to ghost his lips over yours, “Very, very greedy. I should do something about that.”

You lean in to try and catch his lips in a proper kiss, but he moves back so you can’t quite reach him, “Alpha,” You whine.

He grins at you, mischief alight in his eyes, “Yes, cyare.”

“I wanna kiss you,” You pout at him.

“Do you?”

“Yes!”

His thumb moves across your lips, “Oh, has my pretty little love forgotten her manners?”

Your gaze flickers across his face, and you press a light kiss to his thumb, “Please?” You whisper.

“Much better,” Alpha crashes his lips against yours, and pulls you tight against his body. You can feel the plates of his armor biting into your skin, but you don’t really care, because his lips and teeth and tongue are all demanding your complete attention.

Alpha lifts you so that you’re straddling his lap properly, and you whine low in your throat as you press yourself firmly against him. One of his hands settles on your lower back, pressing you even tighter against him.

He holds you like you’re the most important thing to him in this galaxy, and he kisses you like he needs you to live. And you fall in love with him more every time he kisses you.

“Alpha,” You breathe out his name as he breaks the kiss for a moment, “I love you.” You gaze up at him though hazy, half-lidded eyes.

He smiles at you, it’s soft and warm, and he kisses you again and again, “Love you too, princess.” He murmurs.

“Come to bed, Alpha,” You plead with him, “Please?”

He glances at his desk, and then he sighs and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, “Alright, Princess. You convinced me.”

“Yay!”

He smiles fondly at you. “Run back to our rooms, and draw me a bath, will you?”

You shoot him a puzzled look.

And his grin becomes devious, “I want you already in the bath when I get there.”

Your lips part, and you nod enthusiastically, “I can do that.”

“So eager,” Alpha purrs in delight, as he pulls you into another demanding kiss, and then he releases you and sets you on your feet, “I’ll see you in a few minutes. Promise.”

You smile at him excitedly, and you lean in to kiss his cheek, and then you’re leaving his office and silently hurrying back down the hall.

#star wars #tcw #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 7 months

Note

This meme, but its Soap and: "Johnny, where the fuck is my eyeshadow palette??" "Sorry-y-y-y, Christine! I was out of a war paint! I'll buy you another one, I promise!" And then he really buys another one, a completely another one, with the colors, Riot never used before, even on these rare occasions, when she used a tiny bit of shadows. But that actually helped her discover a few new options of a makeup, that look fantastic on her.

''JOHN IAN MACTAVISH''

It was in that moment when Soap knew he had fucked up.

His sister Isla tried to muffle a laugh when she saw the absolute terror in his baby blue eyes, already knowing what was about to go down. Her little brother had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get her to help him save his hide, and the last five groaning at her laughter.

''Isla, please, PLEASE, she's gonna kill meh''

''Should'ave thought that better then, Bràthair (brother)'' Isla chuckled when he pouted, more worried about choosing her outfit for her date than helping. ''Why did'yae think t'was a good idea to use her eyeshadow for yer wee painting is beyond meh''

''Ah dinnae think it through, ah just needed silver pigments!'' Soap dove behind her bed to hide when they could hear Riot's steps coming down the stairs from the second floor. She knocked on the threshold once, shaking with anger, her blue eyes fuming.

''Where the FUCK is your useless brother?''

''Are ye gonna kill him?'' Isla turned in her stool with a big smile, seeing from the corner of her eye how Johnny was gesticulating wildly at her from the floor.

''YES''

''In that case, ah think ah saw him running to the barn''

''Thank you'' Christine turned in her heels to prowl down the stairs to the ground floor. When her steps died in the distance, Johnny raised his head over Isla's bed.

''Yer my saviour, sis''

''Ye better fix it, ye know. Tha'was her only palette'' Isla felt a bit of pity when she saw the crestfallen look on her brother's face. Everyone knew that Christine rarely bought things for herself, and the things she did buy lasted forever because she was very careful. Also, she rarely bothered with eyeshadow. ''Aww, dinnae look at meh like that, ye eejit. Listen, yer gonna do this...''

''Please, pleeeease, pretty please with a cherry on top''

Christine rolled her eyes, trying hard to keep her frown when Johnny kept grovelling and apologizing, kneeling in front of her while she was sitting on the bed at the guest room (her room, as Mam insisted over and over again, but she resisted to believe).

''Just... stop it, Johnny. It's alright. It's just stupid makeup''

''Aye, it is... NO, NO IT ISN'T'' Johnny corrected himself immediately, seeing Isla's face peeking from the hallway, glaring at him. ''Ah mean, aye but nah. T'was yers and Ah ruined it, so it's only fair Ah make it up to yeh. Heeheh make up, got it?''

From the hallway, Isla facepalmed so hard that for a moment she was afraid Christine would hear, but she seemed just as dumbfounded, sighing.

''What have you done now, Johnny?

''Bought ye some, see'' The excited Scot emptied a shopping bag on the bed, starting to show her what he had bought. ''Isla told meh ye needed a naked palette...''

''Nude''

'T'is not the same?''

Christine sighed deeply, examining the nude collection palette in her hands. She couldn't deny some of the colours looked pretty, but she wasn't sure.

''Johnny, I don't think...''

''Wait, wait, Ah have more''

''What?''

He dropped palette after palette on her hands. A small one with bronze tones. Another one with a saturated, pearlescent deep purple. Another with rose-copper and russet-brown shades that he explained would combine well with her blue-gray eyes. And another single one with a vibrant peach.

''Ah dinnae keen what else to bring ye but... are ye crying?''

Christine shook her head slowly, still looking at the eyeshadow palettes, not knowing what to do. It was too much just for a silly thing like makeup. Johnny sat down beside her and grabbed her hands.

''Ah should nae touched yer things... here let me paint ye''

''Paint? What? I'm not a canvas, don't you... Johnny!''

Isla laughed under her breath, shutting the door when the bickering started again. Everything was right again in the MacTavish household.

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sailtomarina · 9 months

Text

The Wounds of Time

Someone once said, “Time heals all wounds.”

Draco wanted to find this unknown, probably a muggle who’d died long ago, and kill them again for good measure.

Well, maybe not kill. Hermione wouldn’t like that and it would look bad, a former Death Eater murdering some idiot muggle, no matter how justified the reasons.

Draco would point out to this stranger and anyone else who would listen that time does not heal all wounds. It does a fair job of dulling the memories and emotions, but by itself, time means nothing, True change requires a catalyst.

Exactly ten years ago today, the Second Wizarding War came to close. Celebrations had been had, vows made to change what needed to be changed for such a war to never happen again, and the villains of the war punished for their crimes.

He’d lost his father to Azkaban and his mother to grief. Draco might have joined his father if not for the testimony of a trio who had zero reason to help him, but did so anyways. He should have been thankful. He should have blessed the second chance he’d been given.

Instead, he festered in his empty manor, alone except for the family elves. If not for Hermione, he might have never left. He’d have expired, leaving nothing behind but a tombstone: “Here lies Draco Malfoy, beloved son, terrible friend, and a failure everywhere that matters.”

It would have been true. Draco had given up.

Then came Hermione with her team of eager workers and a handful of hex-happy aurors. Malfoy Manor was next on their list of properties up for inspection, one they’d saved close to the last because of its sheer size and famed collection of books and dark artifacts.

Their interactions started with single sentences.

“Take us to the library.”

“Show me Lucius’ study.”

“Hold this.”

At this point, she still wore her Ministry uniform, every button fastened, her riot of curls securely pinned behind her ears.

Then, over time, her questions became more personal, conversations lasted longer.

“Malfoy, what do you do when we’re not forcing you to host us?”

“You have an entire section of muggle children’s literature, did you know that? Did you read any of them?”

“Have you been sleeping? I also don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything in all this time we’ve spent at the manor.”

By now, she’d traded out the dark robes for chunky jumpers and muggle jeans that showed every damnable curve. The hair that used to be the subject of his ridicule became a steady feature in his dreams. He could drown in those curls and die a happy man.

Their romance came slow at first, creeping up on Draco unawares until he realized he’d already fallen for the witch with her infuriating mouth, her ferocious hunger for knowledge. They danced around one another for months on end, words and eyes exchanged frequently as if in a constant duel.

And now, on the anniversary of the victory over Voldemort, Draco was alone in his manor once more. The work was done, his home declared curse free. There was no further reason for Hermione to visit—she had other projects lined up ready and waiting.

He swirled the firewhiskey in his glass, liquid the color of her eyes. The vintage was too rare, going down too smooth and leaving behind a gentle smokiness. He needed something cheap to feel the burn.

Then, he felt a ripple in the wards. Perhaps they’d left something behind.

“Draco?” Hermione’s voice came soft and unsure, so unlike the tone he associated with her.

“Granger? What are you doing here?” Like an idiot, all he could do was stare at where she stood in the arch of the library. He chose this room for the evening because it had been her favorite.

“I…” She walked forward to stand a mere arm’s length from where he sat in his armchair. “I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

And he was. He was.

“You look beautiful.” He couldn’t not say the words. She could be wearing one of those hideous knitted creations, and he still would have meant them. Instead, she wore a gown, deep blue and sparkling like a night sky, the lines clinging to every line and curve.

“Thank you. Tonight’s the Commemoration Ball.”

“Ah.” Of course. Draco should have known, even though he was never expected to attend. He wouldn’t anyways. It wasn’t his place.

“I already did my speech and took photos with the boys,” she elaborated.

Draco could have made some joke about the cheap alcohol or food to explain why she’d shown up. Or, maybe asked if some fool had stepped on her foot in an embarrassing attempt to dance—probably one of her “boys”, or that git, McLaggen, who worked in her department.

He did neither of those things. He stared at her as she spoke on, describing the crowd, her speech, the incessant press. On and on.

He glanced down at her feet and noticed the way she kept shifting from one foot to the other. “Why don’t you kick off those heels and join me for a drink?”

“Oh! I don’t, I mean, I’m fine, you know how heels are—”

“Granger. Sit. Relax. You’re already here. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

“I couldn’t impose. I really just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re alright, you know—”

Sod it all.

In one swift move, Draco stood to crowd her space with his frame. Even in her heels, she barely came up to his chin. He took her elbows in hand, spun them around, and pushed her back into his chair. She had the distinct look of someone who’d been frozen.

“Better.”

As she continued to gape at him, Draco dropped to a knee and began removing her shoes.

“Malfoy!” Hermione’s senses returned and she attempted to kick at him. One firm hand on the calf of the offending limb put an immediate stop to her movements.

Taking advantage of her shock, he finished removing the last shoe and slid the hand holding her calf down in a kneading motion. Her skin was warm to the touch, the muscles beneath slender yet firm.

“I see they keep you active despite your position. Nice legs.” He couldn’t have held back the smirk at her whimper if he had tried.

Both thumbs pressed into the arch of her left foot, rubbing circles to ease the soreness.

“Mmmmm, M-M-Malfoy!” She nearly swooned in her ecstasy as she melted into the chair.

“You might as well call me ‘Draco’ now.”

She opened one eye to peer down at where he knelt. He moved onto the other foot and she sighed happily.

“You are a darling of a man. I’m convinced you can do no wrong.”

This could have been his segue to romancing Granger. Like the idiot he still was, he instead said, “I’m sure the others at the ball would disagree with you.”

Within moments, he grasped at nothing and found himself locked eye to eye with Hermione, his face cupped in her hands. If he glanced down, he probably would have been able to see down the neckline of her gown.

“I meant what I said, Draco. The man that you are now, the man I’ve come to know, would not do the wrongs of his past.”

He tried to pull away, but her nails dug in. “Granger, stop it—”

“No. You stop it. Stop wallowing in this dungeon you’ve created.”

“I don’t know how.” This time it was his voice that was quiet and full of doubt. It disgusted him to hear himself.

Rather than pull away, Hermione did the complete opposite. She relaxed her hold and in a move that felt magically slowed she leaned forward to wrap him in a hug.

“So let me show you,” she whispered into his ear.

For once, Draco listened. He listened, and he learned, and he became a man whose wounds, while not fully healed, reminded him of the journey he had made, Hermione always at his side.

WC 1350

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 3 - Celebrations, September 18 - End of the War

Cross-posted to AO3

I know, I know! I'm a day late on this prompt, and today should be focused on Hermione's birthday! I somehow got the days mixed up, so now here we are. I still hope to get a little something out for our favorite curly-headed swot. In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoyed this!

#dramione #dramionemonth #dramione month #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 month

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The Divergence Point

Wes finally succeeds in revealing Danny Phantom's true identity, and everything immediately goes downhill so fast some old ghost named Clockwork steps in.

For the prompt: Wes has done it. He has exposed Phantom to the world. So why can't he get rid of that annoying tick-tock from his head? And why is everything burning? [from @kalifa100]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for mentions of violence]

He... he'd done it.

Wes could hardly believe it himself, but he'd done it!

He'd tricked Danny into transforming in front of everyone, and now no one could deny that Wes had been right all along. They'd all seen the truth with their own eyes, and he'd done it!

He'd exposed Phantom to the world.

But he never expected it to turn out like this.

Why couldn't he get rid of this annoying tick-tocking sound in his head? And why was everything burning? How could achieving his greatest goal be a bad thing?

People were rioting as an unconscious Danny got carried away by the Guys in White. Fights broke out. A fire started. The mayor was trying to get everyone to calm down to absolutely no effect whatsoever. Everyone was freaking out, and no one was even paying any actual attention to the truth Wes had just exposed which started all this in the first place.

He'd just wanted to show them the truth; he never wanted anyone to get hurt.

No. No way. He could fix this.

The ticking had been growing steadily louder in his head, louder and louder until he couldn't focus, couldn't even think, and he was clutching his head in pain, his eyes squeezed shut.

Then, all at once, it quieted to a soft tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock in the background, and the air grew cold.

Wes opened his eyes. He was no longer standing in the second floor window of City Hall. Instead, he looked to be in some kind of clock tower. But the colors were all wrong, eerie and unnatural like they were glowing and absorbing light at the same time.

"Wesley Weston," said a voice.

Wes jumped at the sound and whipped his head toward it. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Clockwork, the Master of Time," the ghost replied, because there was no doubt in Wes' mind that it was a ghost. "And you seem to have gotten yourself in quite a bit of trouble."

Most Amity Parkers would be scared out of their wits if they found themselves face-to-face with an obviously powerful ghost, in what was obviously his home turf, being told that they were in trouble. Wes Weston was not most Amity Parkers, and he wasn't afraid of any ghost, no matter who they were.

Wes narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Clockwork rapidly aged before Wes, then waved his hand through the air, causing a line to appear. At a single point, the line split into dozens of lines.

"This, is your timeline, and that point," Clockwork said, sticking a gnarled finger at the spot where the lines diverged, "Is today."

Wes wanted to speak, ask a question maybe, or say something in his defense if he did indeed need to defend himself. But the words didn't come to him, so he just listened, waiting for Clockwork to finish his explanation, which would hopefully include why the hell Wes was here.

"Each of these lines that branch off from today, is a direction in which your timeline might go," the old ghost continued. "But you may have noticed that only one of them goes straight forward."

He indicated the line that continued straight amongst all the wild and diverging paths.

"So?"

"So this is the line that you have forced because of your actions," Clockwork pointed to a wiggling, looping line going way off in another direction.

"Again, so?"

"So... this is how that line ends."

Clockwork gestured broadly to a screen where Wes could see a world on fire, ravaged by war. His eyes widened in shock.

"Wait, you're telling me I'm responsible for that?"

"There are billions of people on your world, making trillions of decisions every day, but at any given point in time, there is only one decision that matters, and the person making it changes all the time."

Clockwork jabbed his finger once again at the point where the lines diverged.

"At this distinct point, there is only one person on Earth whose decisions determine the future of the world as you know it," Clockwork said. "And at this distinct point, that person is you. Ordinarily, there are a few potential vital decisions that will result in the safe continuation of the timeline, and one of the right ones is made."

Clockwork waved his hand again, and showed another timeline, side by side with the first. This one, too, branched off after a certain point, although it only had about ten possible outcomes, and three of them kept the timeline going more or less straight ahead, with only slight deviations, where the others spread wider.

Evidently, that was the standard situation, and the divergence point where Wes' decision mattered was atypical to say the least. His had lines that turned around and went backwards, lines that formed loops and waves, and only one that went forward.

Clockwork pointed once more at the divergence point where Wes' decision was the only one that mattered.

"At this divergence point, there is only one right answer," he said. "Only one way to avoid catastrophic consequences. You must not reveal Daniel's secret to the world."

"What?" Wes shouted. "No way! I worked hard to do that! There has to be some way I can keep the timeline from devolving into chaos and still expose Fenton's secret. I worked too hard for too long to just give up!"

"If that's so, then you will repeat the day over until you find it, or realize the futility of trying," Clockwork told him. "Failure will not be tolerated."

The next thing Wes knew, he was gasping awake in bed.

It was eight in the morning on Saturday, and Phantom's public appearance hadn't happened yet, meaning Wes hadn't even gotten the chance to enact his latest plan, and it hadn't caused absolute chaos.

Weird dream.

#danny phantom #dp #wes weston #dp clockwork #fic #things i wrote #phic phight 24 #phic phight

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odinsblog · 2 months

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where OJ Simpson died , what your thoughts on his abuse of his two wives and nicole brown and rod goldman's families , i know every women of color experience domestic violence , i saw black women cheer that oj is dead, has gotten away from murder

I wish I had something more poignant to say, but when I heard about OJ Simpson’s death the only things I thought about were,

1) Nicole Brown Simpson. She was a victim of femicide, and unfortunately,

2) I cannot help but remember how fucking mad white people were. Literally for years afterwards. And I’m not trying to excuse OJ or anything, but I was a kid when all that happened. Like not even a teenager. And I remember being interrogated by my white school mates, and I also remember being treated a lot more harshly than normal by my white teachers (lol, and I can count on one finger the number of Black teachers I had from kindergarten to high school)

For clarity, I dO believe that OJ murdered Nicole and her boyfriend and I am not making excuses for OJ

I just keep thinking about how the L.A. riots happened only two years prior, and how A LOT of the racist cops involved in OJ’s arrest were patently racist — they caught Mark Furman on audio tape freely slinging the n-word, and other (white) cops were totes cool with that

White people were sO fucking angry. Like, not angry because a woman was murdered, but because it was a Black man who murdered her, a literal blonde haired Guinevere

It was the same kind of whitelash that got Emmett Till murdered, and the same kind of white anger that landed the Central Park 5 and countless other Black men in prison. If Nicole was a Black woman (or if OJ was white), I doubt white people would have even taken notice

Again, I’m not caping for OJ Simpson. He definitely murdered Nicole, and there isn’t a poor Black man alive who would have gotten off like OJ did

FWIW, I personally do not know any Black women who cheered at his death, but then again, his death is a non-issue and it hasn’t come up too much (not at all, really) amongst my family and friends, and it’s almost beyond my generation

And I just wanted to add some context for the jury verdict that let him off the hook, because in my experience there’s this unwritten cultural thing in America where, whenever any non-Black person asks a Black person about OJ, they are really just expecting a simple admonition of “bad dark skinned Black man,” without digging any deeper and recognizing context like what had just happened to Rodney King and the L.A. riots —they ask Black people about OJ kind of like how whenever a media pundit “randomly” asks every single Muslim they encounter if they condemn Hamas)

(SN: And even if OJ hadn’t murder anyone, I never liked him ever since I read where he once said, “I’m not Black, I’m OJ” … I genuinely detest other Black people who are so desperate for the white gaze that they hate their own Blackness and would sell out Black people for their own self enrichment)

It’s wild af that every time I’ve heard about his death, it’s like listening to a highlight reel of his career, almost without any mention of Nicole or Ron Goldman’s murders

The United States has a big fucking problem with femicide

And misogyny

And racism

And racialized misogyny

I would say that OJ’s death would be a great opportunity to raise awareness about femicide and domestic violence and intimate partner violence, but America is so blind or indifferent to the role that ingrained racism plays, I wouldn’t trust the disproportionately overwhelmingly white media to not fumble it

Yeah, anyway, I have always believed that if the police hadn’t had such a long ass + well documented history of being abject liars and racists, Nicole might have gotten the justice she deserved

I hope that OJ’s death brings some semblance of peace to the families of Nicole and Ron

#anon #ask #answered #oj simpson #femicide #nicole brown simpson #nicole brown #domestic violence #intimate partner violence

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carrythatwayt · 6 months

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Before The Beginning ✨️Color Theory✨️

Okay, this will be pretty long, tldr: everything is a mirror of everything. All opinions are my own after I was caught between the twin forces of memories from my art and film theory classes. All screenshots thanks to the great folks at cap-that.com

I'm going to start after "Let there be light" for obvious reasons, up until that point the lighting is bright but cold and white. The nebula gives us a diegetic (in scene) reason for the shifting and intense colors but I think it's really interesting to see how it was used to reinforce this universe-changing conversation.

"Look at you, you're gorgeous!"

The nebula is only beginning to throw off color, and what's the first thing that happens? Makes it appear like Aziraphale's wings are blushing when he realizes the compliment was not meant for him (and seriously, how adorable is he).

As the conversation winds on and Crowley excitedly decribes the nebula, colorful light is increasingly projected onto the angels, but not the background. This visually ties them together and the intensity of colors seems purposeful as well, since they immediately begins to cool and dim as Aziraphale explains the less-than-stellar purpose behind the star factory.

"What's the point in creating an infinite universe.... if you're only going to let it run a few thousand years?"

Two really interesting things happen here. A star-burst reminiscent of a halo explodes and dissipates behind Angel Crowley's head, and when his wings droop in disappointment, a small cloud of red can be seen appearing behind his left wing.

As Aziraphale attempts to explain the ineffable but all-important Earth and humans, he begins to gather an aura of gold, baby pink, and baby blue. Crowley's red cloud of confusion also continues to intensify as he listens.

"But that's idiocy!"

The reddish clouds of confusion and doubt really begin to pick up speed now as Angel Crowley vents his frustration and beats his wings hard in agitation (also, shout out to how ruffled his feathers become because it's a whole mood in itself).

Here's where things get dangerous.

"Someone has to say "Look Boss, this is a really terrible idea..."

The red cloud has become a roiling crimson storm filling half the frame beyond Crowley and casting dark red light on his face. Meanwhile Aziraphale's background stubbornly hangs onto its cool colors, now opal and turquoise.

"I don't suppose anyone could object to me putting a note in the suggestion box..."

The nebula's red gas has now completely filled Crowley's frames, surrounding him on all sides. The next interesting thing occurs behind Aziraphale.

"I don't think it's our place to start suggesting...!"

In contrast to Crowley's red cloud of doubt, I've been calling this Aziraphale's red ball of anxiety (hello my old friend). He is deeply perturbed by this line of conversation and as he is explaining that the Almighty doesn't have, and likely wouldnt appreciate a suggestion box, this red light floats from behind his wing to behind his head (again, mood).

"If I was the one running it all..."

The saturation of Crowley's red background has lessened a bit, but Aziraphale's Red Ball of Anxiety reaches its peak intensity at this statement as Aziraphale nervously casts his gaze around to see if any other angels heard this borderline blasphemy.

"How much trouble could I get into just for asking a few questions?"

While Angel Crowley is still firmly framed by the red cloud, its disrupted by pale light cast by baby stars or proto-planets, as if it was being leavened by his irrepressible optimism.

For his part, we leave Aziraphale in a riot of both warm and cool colors: golds, greens, pinks, purples... This makes absolute sense to me, seing as it highlights the riot of emotions Aziraphale goes through, beginning with raw concern for Crowley's safety but resolving to a frankly breathtaking amount of affection and admiration. Seriously, zoom in and become unwell with me.

Well, that's all folks! Cheers to you if you stuck it out this far, hope literally any of my rambling and possible derangement was interesting to literally any one else 😅

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale #loves #anthony j crowley #the angel who will become crowley #color theory gonna color theory

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justagirl-with-aphone · 10 months

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Random Prompt Generator pt.3! ~Kirishima edition~

Pro hero Kirishima x Awkward florist reader!

Pt.2!

You were surprised, to say the least when Pro hero Red Riot lumbered his way into your shop...

Your business wasn't very big, it was an old building in a not-so-popular spot. You took it over for your parents so they could retire peacefully, it was pocket change really. But you enjoyed arranging the flowers, you got lost in your own little world, enthralled by the colors and smells. It was the people that made you dread your job... You were homeschooled all your life and you were never really good with people in general, you end up making conversations awkward and dreading the whole interaction in the end when your customer starts quietly judging you.

So let's just say you were BEYOND nervous to help a pro hero of his status. This could be the end of your entire business if you fucked this up. You were just hoping he was as nice as he seemed on camera.

"w-welcome" you stutter out, embarrassed.

"Hey! I saw your display in the window and I thought it was really pretty! You can tell it was made from the heart!" the big redhead chuckled with a big grin on his face.

"I'm in charge of flowers for this hero Gala and I wanted to help a small business out you know?"

"So you came here?" Mentally face-palming at the stupid question., 'Hopefully, he won't think I'm a weirdo and leave.'

"Yeah, there isn't much around here so I thought I could lend a hand or a wallet." The redhead chuckled, his size was misleading, he seemed more like a puppy at heart.

You got to work right away. He explained what he wanted it to look like, but gave you some creative freedom, which you appreciated. "I don't know much about flowers, I need some flowers that will last for a long time, won't wilt fast, and look pretty. But I'm not sure if that's possible, like I said I don't know much about flowers..." The hero rambled on, you silently got up, walking to your flower shelf and pointing to some chrysanthemums.

"I like these because they last long after their cut," you stated.

"Those would look great!!"

For the next few days, The pro hero who told you to call him Eijiro came in every day. Watching you work and helping you meet the criteria that was set. He chatted away and you mostly listened, adding in here and there. You preferred it this way, you liked hearing him talk about things you never experienced. And with him doing the talking you didn't have to worry about coming off as awkward. You didn't want to admit it, but you looked forward to him coming in.

When everything was finished, you were a little sad, to say the least. I mean, you got used to talking to him and it felt easy. You considered him more than just a customer. You wanted to be around him and hear all his stories.

"Thank you again for all your help y/n!"

"yeah..."

"is something wrong?" he questioned you.

"Will I see you around?" You felt stupid asking. He was a pro hero and had a life to live, he had people's lives to save. He couldn't bother himself with a small-time florist like you...

You were surprised when he pulled you into a hug. Mumbling into your hair "Of course, it's been so much fun!" when he pulled away, his face was about as red as his hair. Saying your goodbyes, you put your hands into your pockets sighing. only to find a piece of paper.

Pulling it out it read 'I thought you should see your work in person, be my plus 1 to the hero gala?

-Love. E

with his number scribbled on the back...

Let's just say the flowers were dull in comparison to your date.

#~girliewrites~#mha #bnha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #kirishima x you #kirishima ejirou #kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #kirishima fanfic #prompt generator

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hcdragonwrites · 9 months

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Spring Grooming

(a @digitalagepulao Fanfic)

I had brain fire from listening to Hoizers music so - HAVE A LITTLE FIC OF COMFORT AND BROTHERLY TENDERNESS !

The pines gave off their fresh and sharp scent as the rain continued to drip from them. Needles couldn’t hold the heavy drops up and instead shook them off when the weight became heavy and made their barren bases wet and cool. Pine needles crunch beneath horse hooves, spicing the air further. The rain cleansed the mountain air only for the pilgrims to churn the forest floor in their wake.

Spring was heavy in its breath upon the earth. The rain would have been snow if the sweet kiss of the turning season hadn’t warmed the earth. Instead her rain triggered a riot of colors and initiated animals and plants both to begin to grow again, to seek life, and to awaken from winters cold rest. Ba Longma felt his coat heavy on his body. As a dragon he had never felt the strange mammal tendency to grow hair king in a winter coat to stop the cold from stealing over his bones.

However his horse like form had other instincts, and one was to grow fluffier and thicker about. In the deep snows and the cold hail, when the sleet had slashed the other pilgrims and made their teeth chatter, he had been thankful for his bodies sudden growth. As eldest disciple, the eldest of the brothers among the merry band, it fell to him to carry his Master and tend him. He had spent less days in his humanoid form, and more as a horse - determined with will to carry his master through the worst of storms. To break paths in the frozen snows. The cold couldn’t touch him. Even as the ice formed in his mane and fetlocks, across his body where the sweat rolled off and in his tail.

Now spring was here. Ba felt his body sweating in the heat of the now warmer world. What had given him an edge, an advantage, was now making him suffer. He longed to scratch it off- to seek a low hanging batch of pinewoods and rub himself against them. He had tried to get out of the heat as a man but when he returned to this horse body, it held stubbornly to its habitual rotation. He was a magical steed but even that didn’t prevent the instincts of the seasons from effect his body. Sweat beaded beneath the saddle and it’s blanket, creating a crust of salt that itched and chaffed him. The girth that swung beneath his belly and held the contraption of leather and wood to his back, rubbed and creaked at each step he made.

Ba Longma had noticed the slight cracks beginning to appear in the leather- stiffened by the salt of his body and cracked by the movement. They would need to replace it or Master would experience an unexpected fall when the leather finally cracked and the cloth gave beneath the weight. He held his tongue, walking slowly onward.

When Tripitaka called for a stop for the day, for the mid meal and a bit of rest for himself, along a felt relieved. The terrible itch of his sweat, of the excess fur, had built from annoying buzz to a incomprehensible urge. His instinct was to rub, to roll, to cake his backside in dry cool dirt and to rub himself free of the fur and sweat. It had taken all his will power not to shake himself and beg his Master for a bit of relief.

As Wujing and Bajie set about starting the fire and cooking the rice and setting to chopping and mixing brown sugar into bowls with fruit to make candied sweets for snacking on, it was Wukong that came up to Tripataka and Longma.

“Shifu.” The stone monkey held out a hand and Trip took it. He dismounted, legs bowed from the long day in the saddle. Longma felt a twinge of worry. Did Shifu suffer from saddle sores? Had he been too rocky in his gait? Did he jostle him too much in the saddle ? These things hummed in the eldest disciples mind as Trip made to start taking the tac from his body. A monkey paw reached up and stopped him. “I will take care of Longma.”

“Are you sure Wukong?” Tripataka asked again. He had his hands on the bridle, fingers over the buckles that kept it in place.

“Of course Master. Go go- make sure that Bajie doesn’t eat too many palm fruits before they can be turned to candies.”

“I heard that!” The pig demon snorted, tusks flashing threateningly. They were not as sinister however at the flash of the cheeky smile of the youngest disciple. Trip hesitated only a second more before he settled onto a long and rubbed at his inner calves, relieving the cramps built there from the long day of riding.

Wukong turned an eye back to Ba Longma and the dragon horse saw a twinkle of something there.

“Now brother- I’ve noticed your switching tail all the way from the pine forest to here,” the little monkey crossed his arms taking on a scolding tone, “and you cannot fool me. You are uncomfortable.”

“I am not..” Longma spoke so few times in this shape. It felt strange to have the words rumble up and out of his throat and between teeth that were flat except the canines he retained from dragon shape.

“You lie poorly.” Wukong undid the chin strap of the bridle, pulling the top of the bridle free of Longmas ears. He let gravity slide the metal bit out of his mouth and Longma champed and licked his mouth back into order. Having the bit in his mouth, the metal contraption that sat over his tongue and across his mouth had at first, been something to get used to. Longma didn’t think it was entirely necessary - until he realized that his master was so light of hand and leg that he hardly asked anything of him in the rider fashion. Riding depended on leg and pressure - and Tripataka was too kind to even press his heels to his eldest disciples sides. Longma had decided then to keep the bridle so he could better sense when Shifu asked him to turn or gave the reins a gentle tap to coax him into faster gaits.

“I do not lie Little Brother.” He spoke softly, always feeling ill at ease when he spoke in this shape. “I just silently endure.”

“BAH!” The Monkey set the bridle carefully on a overturned stump and came back. He went for the girth, that terrible bit of leather that made Longmas under legs itch. “I was the keeper of Heavenly Horses. I learned the body language and silent speech of them. And you may be a dragon in disguise but you speak quite clearly of your discomfort.”

“Swishing tail, ears flicking back at odd intervals- the stamp of a hoof - you are uncomfortable.” The girth came free in a jangle of buckles and bands and Longma breathed out in a gratified snort. The saddle came free, the sticky blanket with it.

Wukong pulled a few hairs from his head and chewed them. When he blew them out he had a brush, a metal band that looked like a comb, an a curved iron piece.

“Let me tend you Brother. You carry our master day in and day out. Let me help as I know how.” The little brother asked, holding up the metal comb. Longma sighed. What he really wanted was to roll very undignified like in a nice patch of earth or sand. Instead he cocked one ear towards the stone monkey and nodded.

Wukong gave a little whoop of triumph then set to work. Though it had been five hundred years since he attended and took care of the horses of heaven, the knowledge of that time hadn’t faded. Wukong took the brush and began to tackle the sweat patch on the dragon horses back. He had to get the worst of the sweat off before it settled into a crust of hair and itchiness. So he set to brushing, first moving in little circles over the withers and down the back to break of where the sweat had tangled in the fur. Dirt and shedding fur came up in a flurry as the monkey worked his magic.

“Brother! You are shedding! You must be so uncomfortable in this heat.” Wukong tutted and cooed back, setting his hands to a flurry. Once the worst of the sweat and road dirt had been brushed and taken off the back, Wukong switched to the metal comb. Carefully and gently, to avoid the press of the metal on the points where the bone jutted or was closer to the surface, he brought the comb up and over. Clumps of the winter coat began to fly free in great flurries of white and grey.

The stone monkey was careful and diligent in his task. He found it soothing to brush and groom, to tend and care as he had when he had been in Heaven but also when he had been among his people. It almost pulled him into a trance like state, the task becoming enjoyable and habitual. Horse skin was sensitive, highly sensitive to the touch of flies on the withers, to the brush their velvet nose to feel sweet shoots of grass. He was gentle in the press of the comb, understanding that the metal bristles could hurt if applied with too much pressure.

Longma felt his head dipping lower and lower as the monkey set to work. Wukong combed his legs, his chest, his withers and shoulders. The relief! Longma felt the cool air kissing his skin as the old winter coat came free. A flurry of hair was gathering at his hooves, a great gathering of white grey fur. The two pilgrims stood in companionable silence, Longma soothed into almost slumber and Wukong consumed with the task of grooming. They were so absorbed they didn’t notice the birds of spring diving and gathering the great tufts of the dragon horses fur. Nesting materials this numerous were not to be frowned upon and the birds had a bountiful harvest for making nests and lining their woven work with the white down of Longmas winter coat.

“There brother doesn’t that feel better ?” Wukong finished removing most of the winter coat. The Monkey chuckled, seeing the half asleep expression upon the dragon horses face. It would be a time before the rest would give way. Winter fur always liked to cling and stay even after the dregs of spring have moved well into a summer balm.

“Alright Ba Longma, let me check your hooves.” The Stone monkey didn’t know if the senior disciple heard him. So Wukong set to the task of hoof care. He gently pressed into the horses leg and Longma lifted the foot instinctively.

“Brother! You have rocks all throughout the crevices!” Wukong truly was appalled now to see the state of the horses hooves. Such impaction with the hooves over time could lead to limping which could lead to further pain or, worse, lameness! Wukong champed his teeth and tutted more.

“You will go lame if you keep silent and then where will we be ?”Wukong spun the pick in hand and set it to the compacted hoof. He dug out the worst of the dirt and compacted little stones, careful of the sensitive parts in the middle of the foot called a frog. People thought horses to be tough and enduring animals when they needed as much care as a mistress of a fancy and rich house. They needed manicures and pedicures, grooming and tending, careful watch of diet and attention to detail. Each leg Wukong grumbled and chided the older disciple at his lack of self care and Longma simply sighed and grumbled. The dragon horse puffed in contentment. Now this… this was the life.

Wukong set the last hoof down and patted the white flank of his companion.

“From now on I will take care of you- we can’t have the senior disciple limping now can we?” Wukong chortled and left his brother to lie down and groan in relief.

“Thank you Brother…” Spring never felt so nice against Longmas now soothed and lighter fur, his brushed and tended body. The horse folded himself into the earth and closed his eyes, ready for a nice long and sweet nap. The birds flitted and landed upon the white flanks, plucking hairs and thick winter fur free. Longma felt none of their little ministrations as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #fanfic for digitalagepulao #HERE YOU GO!#I got to pull out all my horse knowledge into this from my years living on a ranch #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #ba longma #sun clan au #expedition to the west AU #jttw fanfic #I had fun adding a little bit of comfort for the senior disciple #and Wukong going all calm and grooming? yes.#is it short ? yeah.#short little snippets of slices of life for my friend Pardal because her boys give off found family vibes #because who DOESNT LIKE A FOUND FAMILY TROUPE ?!#pls their art is so pretty too ugh

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howlingday · 6 months

Text

Vytal Festival Tourney

Ironwood: Welcome, Remnant's finest of Huntsmen and Huntresses. If you're here, it means you have been invited to the Vytal Festival Tournament. But before we begin, let me make one thing clear: These games will be unlike any other you've played before. Take all the rules you thought you knew about these games and throw them into the wind!

Ironwood: To begin, each participant will be given a tracking card- (Gunfire and screams) Whoa! What the hell's gotten into you people?!

Guy: You just said no more rules!

Ironwood: About the game, not society! Everybody just stop, okay?! Everyone stop! Brothers, what's wrong with you people?! Like, there was no hesitation there! Clearly some of you were just looking for a reason! And some of you are already armed, which is also VERY concerning! I was just referring to the Academy Games. You know, the whole reason we're here? I'm just here to determine what's tournament legal or not.

Guy: So if I shot into a crowd with a semi, is- is that not allowed?

Ironwood: No, that's not allowed! Why do I need to tell you that?!

Guy: Ah, but what about in regards to the tournament-?

Ironwood: Why do you think that changes anything? No! It's not allowed in any way outside the tournament!

Guy: Is it because I used a semi?

Ironwood: Alright, guns are no longer legal to use in the tournament! In fact, let me just make this even clearer so there's no sort of confusion on my stance on this.

Guy: What about swords?

Ironwood: I feel like that's worse.

Gal: What about a sword with a battery charge?

Ironwood: Again, worse, and why do you have that?

Dude: Acid attack?

Ironwood: No.

Chick: Molotov cocktails?

Ironwood: No!

Person: What about taking someone's heart medication and swapping it out for placebos and watching them slowly succumb to their illness and rot?

Ironwood: No, and I want eyes on whoever said that.

Girl: What if you already killed people with hammers? Like multiple people using carpenter's hammers before this rule change? Does that, like- Does that bypass it? Like, uh... Like, is that good?

Ironwood: What the fuck?

Boy: No, that makes sense to me.

Other: That's pretty good logic right there.

Ironwood: None of you are seeing heaven.

Guy: What about traps?

Ironwood: No- A-Actually, yes! Traps are legal! However the rule is that you have to set it during the- (Explosion goes off, Car wails) Do I even have to ask-?

Guy: Car bomb.

Ironwood: ...ALRIGHT, YOU FREAKS, LISTEN UP AND LISTEN GOOD! NO BOMBS! NO GUNS! NO MELEE WEAPONS! NO SORT OF PHANTOM THREAD TYPE SHIT-

Gal: What about nuclear weapons?

Ironwood: ...

Winter: No.

Ironwood: Oh, come on!

Winter: Sir!

Ironwood: Listen, I don't even think they could do it, but I think if they can try, then- Okay, fine! Fine! No nukes! ...But I am open to discussion for it.

Guy: Uh, sir, I have a question for you.

Ironwood: Sure. Whatever. Fuck it. Ask away.

Guy: So if I understand what you're trying to say is that all these rules are in regards to the Academy Tournament.

Ironwood: Oh my god! Yes! Finally, somebody totally gets it!

Guy: So by following that logic, this rule change only applies if you're taking part in this tournament yourself, but not to the rest of us, right?

Ironwood: ...I mean, technic- (Riot ensues) Alright, fuck it. Fuck this tournament. Everything's Color War Vacuo again. Whatever! It's not like we spent a billion fucking lien on this thing! (Sighs) Fucking Mantle...

Winter: Mantle?

Ironwood: Yeah, Mantle. Where else is the tournament is being held. Actually, where are we, anyways?

Winter: Um... Los Angeles, California.

Ironwood: LA?! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND?! GET US THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! (Sirens wail) HOLY SHIT, THOSE SONS OF BITCHES ARE GOING NUCLEAR!

#rwby #james ironwood #winter schnee #solid jj

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