#who the fuck do i crucify for this one huh

[helianskies]

actually very pissed off. just got to my desk and it seems someone has come in to clean. in the process, they have moved things around on my desk including a monitor, my plant and sticky notes, and binned a bottle i had kept on my desk PURPOSEFULLY so i could reuse it, as it was a big bottle that i actually brought ALL THE WAY BACK FROM ITALY with me last year. for 10 weeks i have worked here and never has anyone touched shit on my desk or cleaned in our office. i'm actually upset. i am seriously upset. GIVE ME BACK MY ACQUA PANNA YOU ASSHOLES.

#who the fuck do i crucify for this one huh #my supervisor can sense my disdain he knows im mad in ny corner #and i know it might sound silly over an empty bottle of watee #but i repeat: i brought it back from italy. yesterday was the first time i opened it after buying it at bergamo airport in august #i left it on my desk tucked BEHIND my laptop amongst my paperwork and other goodies i keep on my desk #and someone from estates came in and decided they were going to fucking bin it ?? #im getting mad again #theyre lucky i have another bottle at home #but that is BESIDE the point #my supervisor literally said they shouldn't be touching things on people's desks #TOO RIGHT #IF I WANTED TO BIN IT. I WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN THE BIN I SIT 1 METRE FROM AND PASS ON MY WAY OUT #getting worked up #annoying #so annoying #helia rants #and commits bloody murder #just as i was getting better at hydrating myself... they take away the only thing i had to fill up with water.... #so now i have to wait until lunch...... to get a drink that isnt tea or lemon fanta......... #im still mad btw can you. can you tell.

[hauntingblue]

Luffy taking off his chanclas THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS

#this one is so funny ahdkajdk just doing raspberries on his arm #see how mingo laughs.... well it's about to become hilarious i know it... #the white smoke around him hehe i know what is coming #this form is kinda perturbing...... #disturbing???? #'while reforcing his skin with haki his tension augments' learning physics with doffy #'he is nothing more than rubber' talk about that with enel lmao #luffy needs to grab mingo and throw him into his cage and either he dies or takes it down to survive.... this is my design #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 726 #luffy sounding like a pinball machine.... #DOFFY IN THE ROCKS CRUCIFIED LIKE WHEN HE WAS A CHILD!!! I GOT THAT REFERENCE #now to confront HIS sins against the people #the commentator blushing when he realizes who luffy is ahdkajs #'are you mugiwara no luffy?' 'eh? huh.' #luffyyyy noooooo :((? #THE FUCKING BRUGESS GUY I WILL KILL YOU #KOALA FINISH HIM #SABOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! END HIMMM!! I WANT HIM CHARRED!!!!!! OBLITARATED!!! TURND TO ASHES!!!!! #now the citizens turn on him!!! disgraceful!!!! #FUCK OFF AND DIE ALREADY MINGO!!!!! FUCK OOOOFFFF #episode 728 #MINGO DIEEE ALREADYYYYY #the commentator!!!! omg!!! #i cant see luffy like this i am not strong enough #'it's ace's life. i don't hold a grudge' YOU DON'T????? #i guess thats why you didnt go to impel down to save him.... okay i get it..... #luffy being so relieved sabo got ace's fruit 😭😭 #episode 729

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

#rp sentence meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #sentence starters #text message prompts

[flowerhrt]

the end of love | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: two weeks after your break up, daisy decides to confront you and ask what's wrong.

warnings: it's the 70s, internalized homophobia, eddie being a bit of a dick, daisy is clean and the band is still together, reader is a lesbian.

a/n: i interpret daisy as a lesbian who deals with compulsive heterosexuality.

word count: 2.4k

breathe in. breathe out. it's just one song. record it all in one go, ignore billy's stupid complaints, and then go home. 

well, what used to be home.

 “daisy, you ready to go?” she heard teddy ask from the other side of the recording booth. “yeah, i'm fine. let's get this over with.” the redhead said before taking a sip of the glass of cold water she had next to her. she closed her eyes as she felt the liquid make its way through her throat.

 breathe in. breathe out. she opened her eyes to find the band and camila next to teddy, all smiling encouragingly at her. daisy was about to smile back when the door to the recording studio opened abruptly. “holy shit, tell me i'm not late.” 

oh fuck.

 daisy felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. why is she here? she was supposed to be in new york, not los angeles.

 “y/n! you are kind of late.. hope it was for a good reason.” warren said with a wink “tell me the guy at least fucks good.” the drummer added while wiggling his eyebrows.

 the blue-eyed singer wanted to disappear. she tried to distract herself by playing with the hems of her long-sleeved white shirt. huh, funny. daisy thought. she always loved it when i wore this one.

 “yeah, warren. he fucked better than you ever will.” y/n answered, not before rolling her eyes at their friend.

 they didn't know y/n didn't fuck any guy last night.

 they didn't know y/n would never fuck a guy. ever. they didn't know y/n was late because she didn't know if she could face her ex girlfriend after she told her she was leaving for good. they hadn't seen each other for two weeks, and it was fucking torture for both of them. they had grown so used to always waking up next to each other, cooking together, and doing pretty much everything together, and god did it feel weird to not see each other for longer than a day. 

daisy felt like she couldn't breathe when y/n left. she always had to remind herself to breathe in and breathe out. it was as if the girl before her took all the oxygen in the world when she walked out of daisy's front door. right. she remembered bitterly as she felt the fabric of the shirt in her hands.

 daisy's front door. daisy's home. 

because she refused to move in with her even after three years of secretly seeing each other. she refused to let anyone know about their relationship. not even simone, who is like… them. and daisy understood, she obviously did.

 it was dangerous to be one of the world's most famous singers and openly date a woman. openly love a woman. openly say the word lesbian. people would crucify you in the street if they knew you were a homosexual. that was the main reason y/n was scared, she was just a tour photographer who happened to become close with the band and fall in love with daisy on the way. if the world knew she was into women, she would never get another job.

 daisy tried to tell her they would be okay, to screw the rest of the world. they loved each other. how could that ever be bad? as far as she knew, love wasn't a bad thing. but maybe she only thought that because she didn't have much experience with it. her parents hated her. men used her. she only has the band, simone, and y/n. had y/n. not anymore. 

“daisy!” her name being yelled at her got her out of the trance she was in. “are you going deaf or are you just high as shit?” eddie asked from the microphone. 

“she's in recovery, eddie. stop joking about that.” she heard a soft voice she could recognize anywhere snap back at him. “right, sorry.” the bassist said with his hands held up high as a way of showing surrender.

 y/n looked at her and they made eye contact for a solid second. daisy gave her a small smile and looked down. “alright, let's get this party started!” warren hollered as daisy put her headphones on to start recording. “okay, the end of love, take one.” 

the redhead remembered to breathe as she heard the first notes of the song.

 i feel nervous in a way that can't be named.

i dreamt last night of a sign that read, the end of love. 

she looked up and saw y/n drumming her fingers against her waist. she obviously knew the song was about her. ever since daisy met the photographer, almost every song she has written has been about her. the singer wrote the end of love the day after y/n walked out of her new york apartment. 

it's pitiful, she thinks. even when they're not romantically together anymore, she still writes about her.

 and i remember thinking even in my dreaming.

 it was a good line for a song. 

daisy tried to steady her breathing but when she looked at y/n she felt like she was about to pass out.

 breathe in. breathe out.

 breathe in. i can't fucking do this. 

the flower-named girl placed her headphones down and said a quick “i need some fresh air.” before storming out of the recording booth. daisy walked through god knows how many rooms, until she found an empty one in the back of the building, she sat on the floor and leaned against the door she had just walked through.

 you dumb fucking idiot, she thought. now they're all going to think you´re singing about someone in the room, or even worse, that you've relapsed and can't record a damn song. she can't go through this again.

 if the band thinking she was in love with billy dunne, when she's not even into men, was bad enough, them seeing her overreact this way is going to make them figure out she has been seeing someone. 

there was a minute of silence while she tried to think of an excuse to say when she gets back into the studio, but it was all interrupted by a soft knock coming from the other side of the wooden door she has been leaning against.

 “i'm fine, karen. just give me a second.” the blue-eyed girl said while running a hand through her long red hair. 

“i'm not karen, but if you want me to go get her, i can do that.” her heart sank as she heard y/n's voice.

 “no!” she heard her own voice answer in a quick desperate way. she grimaced at how pathetic she sounded.

 “well, is it okay if i come in?”

 one beat. two beats. daisy unlocked the door.

 the photographer walked into the room and sat on the opposite side of the singer, facing her. “do you want to talk about it?”

 “talk about what?” 

the girl sighed and leaned her face against the palm of her right hand. “about what just happened. you don't normally walk out of a recording session, daisy. not ever. are you okay?” she asked as she looked straight into daisy's big blue eyes.

 the singer stared back and bit her lip as she felt her eyes start to water. “i miss you.” 

“daisy-” 

“no.” she interrupted. “you say you love me but then decide to break up with me.” she says with a scoff. “without even letting me ask you what i did wrong. without even letting me try and fight for you. for us.” a tear streamed down her right cheek.

 it took everything in the girl before her to not wipe it, the way she always did. 

“listen, i understand being scared. do you think i'm not frightened of how the boys will react if they ever find out we are the way we are? but i didn't care as long as i had you. i know you have your doubts. but why did we have to hide from everyone? simone would never treat us differently. we both know she's a lesbian. just like you and i.” she pointed a finger at herself and the girl who now wouldn't dare to look her in the eye. 

“karen wouldn't either, she's too busy minding her own fucking business to be disgusted by us. even camila wouldn't care, she'd be delighted to know i've never felt an ounce of love for her husband” daisy was fully crying now. god, she loved her girlfriend so much. why wasn't that enough for her?

 “i left for that exact reason.” 

“what?” she asked.

 “you deserve someone who isn't afraid to love you. who isn't afraid of who she is.” y/n continued. “you know, billy and graham saw simone kiss her girlfriend at your birthday party” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “and they didn't give a single shit.” daisy was silent as she listened intently to her ex-girlfriend's voice.

 “when simone realized they saw her, she told them they'd been together for over five years. and shit, they truly didn't care. even warren said it wasn't fair simone found a girlfriend way before he met lisa.” y/n played with the rings placed around her fingers to avoid eye contact. “the entire band knows about simone, and they think it's normal.” 

daisy's heart was racing, she didn't know if it was excitement for simone, because her best friend was able to love her girlfriend without a care. or if it was happiness, because the rest accepting simone could only mean one thing. if the six don't care about simone and her girlfriend, then that means they won't care about her and y/n.

 the photographer was silent for a while, so daisy decided to speak first. “i don't really understand. you left me because you're afraid of them knowing about us. but, you also know they wouldn't care if they find out?” the singer´s eyes scanned her ex girlfriend´s face, trying to find an answer. 

“yeah… it's stupid.”

 “damn right, it fucking is!” daisy sighed. “i love you. you love me. we can at least tell them and simone about our relationship.”

 y/n was the one holding back tears now. “i want to. i truly do.” 

“then what's stopping you?” her voice softened at the sight of the girl she loves the most crying in front of her.

 “I can't openly love you, not when i can't even say… well, you know what.”

 “god, y/n. you didn't tell me you were still struggling with that. i could've helped you.”

 “i know you would've, but i didn't want to be a burden.” daisy slowly raised her arm and caressed y/n's cheek in the soft, loving way she always does. “you're not a burden. not ever. not to me.” the flower-named girl tucked the girl's hair behind her ear. 

“i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can't breathe when i'm without you.” she continued. “you helped me when i was trying to recover from my addiction. you were there when i got out of rehab. you've helped me stay clean.” 

“that was all you, daisy.” 

“yeah, but you were next to me the entire time. the least i can do is be next to you, while you learn to accept yourself.”  “it took me a while to come to terms with being a lesbian, too.” daisy said as she twirled a piece of y/n's hair around her finger. 

“i used to think the only way i could make it into the industry was by not caring about men stealing my music because at least people would hear them. fuck, i forced myself to want them, the same way they wanted me. because that was the closest i thought i'd ever get to being loved.” “but that's not what love is. love is what you and i have.”

 y/n placed her hand over daisy's. “i want to be brave, for you.”

 “you already are. you just need to be brave for yourself. because you deserve it.”

 “thank you, for everything.”  y/n gave her a soft small smile. “you don't have to thank me for anything, seeing you smile is good enough for me.” 

 the two women locked eyes, and they just stared at each other for a small moment. y/n's hands began to shake with desperation, she craved the feeling of daisy against her. and suddenly, she felt a force pulling her towards the redhead girl, daisy placed her hands on both sides of y/n's waist, and instinctively, as if her body was made to be next to her's, y/n placed her hands behind daisy's neck, the same way she has done for the past few years, their bodies were pieces of a puzzle made to be together.

 they both leaned into each other, they were so close, they could feel each other's noses rubbing together, daisy smiled at the sensation. “can i-” daisy started “you don't even have to ask.” the girl interrupted, before smashing her lips into the singer's.

 their lips locked, the two women having been in the exact same position hundreds of times, but this was different. this kiss was about understanding, about forgiveness, about acceptance, about moving forward. it lasted a few more moments until they were out of breath and had to pull away. 

“i love you, daisy jones.” the girl whispered against daisy's lips. “i love you, y/n l/n.” she answered with glossy, vibrant eyes. before getting back into her usual cocky self.

 “well, not to spoil my amazing new song, which is going to be a hit, but there's a specific lyric i think you're going to like.” she said, trying to fight back a smile. y/n rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

 “oh yeah? what is it?” daisy cupped y/n's cheeks and stared lovingly into her lover's eyes. “i've always been in love with you. could you tell it from the moment that i met you?” the redhead sang before kissing her beautiful girlfriend again, and again, and again.

 daisy still had to finish recording her song, and they still had to explain what took the photographer so long to find her, but luckily, this time y/n wasn't afraid to tell them the truth. 

we were reaching in the dark

that summer in new york

and it was so far to fall

but it didn't hurt at all.

#daisy jones imagine #daisy jones x reader #daisy jones and the six x reader #lesbian x reader #daisy jones angst #daisy jones fluff #x reader #fanfiction #daisy jones and the six imagine #daisy jones #daisy jones and the six

[kristiemewisstan]

The Tortured Poets Department Unhinged First Listen Review:

Fortnight-

NEEDS MORE POSTY, we love a “I wanna kill her”, this one MIGHT BE about Matty Healy lol “I touched you for only a fortnight”

The Tortured Poets Department-

“WHO USES TYPEWRITERS ANYWAY” YOU BITCH ITS YOU LOL, Charlie Puth name drop 🤨 oh god so many name drops, THIS BRIDGE, not the wedding ring…

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys-

THERE WAS A LITANY OF REASONS WHY WE SHOULDVE PLAYED FOR KEEPS THIS TIME my jaw literally dropped the entire last verse

Down Bad-

“Everything comes up teenage petulance” this one is cringy but in a way I love, Taylor Is Very Much A Down Bad Girlie

So Long, London-

this song is tachycardic I PROMISE I MADE THIS JOKE BEFORE “STOPPED CPR”, two graves one gun I SWORE THAT YOU LOVED ME BUT WHERE WAS THE CLUES damn she’s really sad to lose London huh

But Daddy I Love Him-

this would have a cool music video “she’s was chaos he was revelry” this is if red and the 1975 had a child that’s the vibe

Fresh Out the Slammer-

Okay so this is the “I just realized how bad this relationship truly was and thank god I’m out of it”, okay the weird slow down stuff wasn’t my favorite thing

Florida!!!-

I’m cackling, THE FLORENCE VERSE IS SO GOOD I think that this is just a Florence and the machine song it sounds so like them

Guilty as Sin?-

Okay this is the first one I’ve been like “oooooo I really like this one” “what if I roll the stone away, they’re gonna crucify me anyway” DAMN some religious imagery will always get me right in the trauma

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?-

This one has a lot of the brain scratching pauses “don’t you worry folks we took out all her teeth” oof this song is just really angry

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)-

Cowboy Like Me but they don’t end up happy, okay “good boy” made me giggle so apparently in a 12 year old boy

loml-

PIANO! WANT IVE WANTED THE WHOLE TIME “still alive, killin time at the cemetery, never quite buried” I’m getting a gun and flying to London, I swear “TALKING RINGS AND TALKING CRADLES 🤨” JOE ALWYN FOUND DEAD IN A DITCH “THE LOSS OF MY LOVE” COUNT YOUR DAYS JOSEPH 💀, this should’ve been track 5

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart-

hello production that is giving Barbie movie/80s vibes, this is the first one I’m certain was written recently like it was definitely written on tour, the peppy “cause I’m miserable!” Hurt Me but also same

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived-

THE BREATH ahhhhh PIANO! “I don’t even want you back I just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal” okay back half of the album is eating, THE PICKUP, SPEAK NOW VIBES BUT MOM IS OLDER AND MADDER

The Alchemy-

ok ok ok “I circled you on a map I haven’t come around in so long but I’m coming back so strong” fucking meant,👌 touchdown mention lmao, okay this is SO ABOUT TRAVIS 🥹🥰

Clara Bow-

Best production on the album in the first 10 seconds, BEAUTY IS THE BEAST THAT ROSE, WAIT WHAT????? “You look like Taylor Swift” yeah queen because you are lol, It’s so people can make the audio of her singing all the album names lmao

First Overall Listen- 7/10

I was getting nervous in the front half but the back half more than made up for it

The vibe was just off at the start and honestly that’s probably a me thing and will get better with further listens

The lyrics were amazing as always

Production was okay, some of the songs were perfect and some had me going 🤨

Charlie Puth

Top 3 in no particular order (apparently I like songs that hurt me):

Guilty as Sin?

loml

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

#the tortured poets department #ttpd #taylorswift #taylor swift #okay so like I kinda |didn’t like| it for the front half #and then Guilty as Sin? #and the album began eating

[ahungeringknife]

365: May 25

I don't like that Mithrax is just Ambiguously Old As Shit so in Entropy he's younger. Like born before the Reef War but well after the true Dark Ages of humanity. That still gives him plenty of centuries to Fuck Around and Find Out but it takes him out of the 'old as dirt' category I grow bored of with all our face NPCs in the game. Hence why Viksis looks at him like 'this fucking kid wtf???'

----

Viksis was horrified the first time he met House Light's prime servitor. If you could even call it a Prime. It's metal flesh had been ripped off or never properly put on its body and its eye couldn't focus. Couldn't still. It jittered across the faces of the Eliksni who worked on it. Mechanical minded and doing their best. "Shit," Frytkis muttered next to him at seeing it. Viksis couldn't move. He could hear the low groaning of the servitor and the pained sounds it made. It wasn't... it wasn't alive. A half living thing. A mockery of the Prime Servitor back aboard the Lucent Dawn that effortlessly supplied all the ether for the entire fleet. So much ether they traded it to pirate crews for supplies or scavenge.

He looked up at Misraakskel who was standing next to him. "What is this?" he asked the Kell softly.

"Part of the duties of a sacred splicer are to oversee and maintain the health of the House's servitors. The others aren't ready for something like this," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's dying," Viksis said.

"No," Misraakskel said firmly.

"You're right, sorry. It's not dying, it wants to be dead," and he looked at the servitor in horror. For a machine worshiper like Viksis this was akin to seeing your god flayed alive and crucified across the sands of Earth's hottest deserts.

Misraakskel looked at him sharply. "No it doesn't. It is living."

"That isn't living, Misraakskel," he said pointing. "It's barely even alive. Do you not hear its moans of pain for death?"

Msiraakskel looked down at Viksis and he could feel the scrutiny. Viksis looked back. "You can understand it?"

"You can't?" Viksis asked right back. "Isn't that was a splicer does? Tend to and understand machines?"

"Among other things," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's salvageable," Frytkis said next to Viksis. "Any of these people have any actual engineering skills? Or are they all mechanics?" he asked Misraakskel.

"Mechanics," Misraakskel said.

"Ah. They'll kill it on their own then," they folded his lower set of arms. "Watched some mechanics in the outfit almost do that a few times when one of our servitors got sick before an engineer was called." Or Viksis. Frytkis knew well enough not to talk about that.

"Don't be so sure," Misraakskel said.

Frytkis gave Misraakskel the same look he'd give Preksik when the Baron would say something ignorant. Borderline disdain. "I'm older than you. I am sure." Then he looked at Viksis. "What's the call?"

"I can't let it keep 'living' in pain," Viksis said and finally the soft groaning and mechanical noises got to him. He walked away from them up to the suspended servitor. It's eye went to him, jittering and shaking, unable to focus. An Eliksni came over with a rivet gun to do something. "Stop," he put a hand on their arm.

"Huh?" they looked at him in confusion.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Attach some of the outer plating?"

"No. It doesn't need skin when the flesh is so damaged. Put that down."

The Eliksni looked back at Misraakskel and Viksis knew he'd nodded because they left with the power tool. Viksis stepped right up to the servitor so even with its shaking pupil it could see him. "Do you have a name?" he asked it softly.

<<N/a>>

"Are you in pain?"

<<Y>>

"Where is the pain?"

<<Everywhere>>

Viksis raised all his hands to hold the optic of the great servitor, relieving some of the strain the optic had on its body. "Is that better?"

<<Y>>

"One of you," he barked at a mechanic staring wide eyed at him, "Come here and hold the optic."

They skittered over and Viksis had him hold the eye in all hands to relieve pressure on the frame. Viksis hummed softly to himself, finding the same frequency that the servitor resonated in, and put two hands on the metal behind the eye. From his chest little Ivo was humming along with him and he could feel her quiet hum in his chest. The resonance led his hands along the metal seems and through a horribly wired chassis until he found a pain point. It was a wrongly plugged tube. He deftly unscrewed the wing nut on the clamp holding the tube to the input. The tube itself was only about as wide as his finger. Ether immediately began pouring from the tube. The Eliksni around started to panic.

Someone touched him as if to pull him away but when Viksis looked it was only in time to watch Frytkis punch them. "Stand down. He's fixing your fuck up," they snarled at the now frantically nervous mechanics.

He followed the tube to its output deeper into the servitor. He had to hoist himself up and into the would be god. His lower hands shifted Ivo around as he crawled inside and invariably was twisted up inside the servitor. Ivo hummed the resonance the entire time helping him find the pain point and the incorrect output port.

"Frytkis, I need pliers," he called from inside the moaning servitor as gaseous ether was still filling the room.

"What size?" Frytkis asked.

"Halves," which wasn't a size but Frytkis knew immediately. They were handed over. "And a similarly sized ratchet wrench. Hexagonal." That was also handed over, Frytkis nearly half way into the servitor themself.

"How bad is it in here?" Frytkis asked looking around.

"Bad," was all Viksis said using the pliers to turn the wing nut he couldn't reach because his hand was too big. The clamp and tube came free and he handed it to Frytkis. Frytkis took it and vacated the servitor.

Viksis grabbed a piece of metal tubing that went... nowhere (idiots) and used the wrench to loosen it enough to turn the entire piece of tubing. "I need a metal clamping ring, about five radials," he called out. He let Frytkis have a moment to find the part. "Is that better?" he asked the half alive servitor softly.

<<Y>>

"Does it all still hurt?"

<<Y>>

"This will stop some."

<<TY>>

A different Eliksni appeared through the gap and had the metal clamp. He could hear Frytkis taking control of the mechanics and bossing everyone around. Great. He took the metal ring and fit it around the metal pipe before joining the pipe to the outflow. He used the wrench to tighten it. He'd rather weld those pieces together but that was impossible without a micro welder.

Almost as soon as the pipe was connected the entire servitor shifted. Viksis moved as the servitor did, holding Ivo to his chest. The entire thing heaved and then sighed as it moved pieces and parts of itself.

<<Pain//: Reduced>>

"Good," Viksis said and then started crawling out of the servitor.

He stood on the ground but no one noticed him. Frytkis was busy ordering everything into some sort of reasonable work place. Things being properly organized. Mechanics bossed around. Things being put where they needed to go. He looked over feeling Misraakskel looking at him with a slight tilt of his head. He walked over to him.

"You healed the servitor," Misraakskel said.

"No. I allowed it to be in less pain," Viksis said.

"How did you do that?"

Viksis made a confused look. "That is what I'm supposed to do. Did you not hear it?"

Misraakskel looked at Viksis curiously. "Your splicing abilities are different than mine," he said after a moment. "Your old crew say you are a Splicer but you cannot see the weft or warp of reality. And yet you went right into the body of a Prime Servitor and began to heal it in a way I have never seen."

"I can't stand seeing them in pain."

"An admirable trait," Misraakskel agreed.

"So what does this mean for you helping me?"

"Your training with me will continue, yes," Misraakskel nodded. "But I see your abilities lie with the process of our servitors. We will hone your abilities as we repair and prepare our House's Prime Servitor."

"It's not alive, Misraaks," he said.

"But it is not dead," the Kell said back.

Viksis sighed. "Very well. If that is what you think will be best for me learning to use my Splicer abilities." Even if Misraakskel didn't seem to be able to do what he could do.

"I do. And while you learn to use your abilities it will be used to benefit the House. A worthy cause for any member."

Viksis' eyes narrowed. "Just to remind you; I am not House Light," he said quietly. "Once my training is done I will return to my Outfit and family."

"And we will miss your abilities. But it is not of the Light to tether someone where they do not wish to be," Misraakskel said and sometimes Viksis really did wonder if this guy believed his own bullshit. He had to, right? "For now stay here and assist the mechanics in getting our Prime working. When you return to the quarter we will work on the other parts of being a Sacred Splicer."

Viksis nodded slowly. But now he wasn't sure what this kid could show him he didn't already do? Other than adjusting the weave of reality, which Viksis was suspicious of that. Best not to argue about it. He turned and went to go be with Frytkis to organize their mechanics.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #Eliksni #mithrax #misraaks #original eliksni #Viksis

[deceitful-darlings]

Repost minus the BS

OG "ask" AKA The random bullshit dropped into my inbox with no context nor proof: "FYI weebsinstash is a victim-blaming abuser who is dating a militant TERF"

IF YOU LIKED/REBLOGGED THE OG PLEASE CHECK YOUR LIKES/PROFILE AND REMOVE IT.

..Huh?

What? Genuine question: WHY are you telling me this? What the hell does this have to do with me? I don’t know who ANYONE you just mentioned is. Like, seriously. If I have ever interacted or reblogged something for this weebsintrash it’s not like I know them personally.

What exactly do you expect me to do with this information? And I will say: Do not drop into my inbox with short accusations like this. Ever again. What proof have you provided? After you’ve revealed PERSONAL information about an online creator? You are so close to actually doxxing (a crime) someone and I will NOT stand for it. And do not come at me with: Look up the information, because no. If you are going to accuse someone of something, you provide the evidence, you share links to proof.

If what you have said IS true, which I will not be digging through blogs and posts to try and find out because that’s not on me to do because I have nothing to do with this situation, then they are a shitty fucking person, their partner is a shitty fucking person, and I hope they lose engagement, but it will change nothing about my life. I do not know these people and have never cared about them. Literally all I can say is “I’m so sorry to their victims.” Which achieves exactly nothing FOR those victims.

I am not here for internet drama or toxicity from either side of this quite frankly. There is enough shit going on in the world and my life, I don’t need to be dragged into a situation that has nothing to do with me. I am here to write people being toxic in FICTIONAL scenarios and talk to you guys, not this.

You may see this as callous and uncaring: but I have seen this kind of shit go horribly wrong before. A lot recently too. The Nux drama with VShojo, The Kwite drama, the illuminauiti shit with her smearing people over years. It is not our place to drag people through the mud, and I will certainly not do that without being given credible information because, once again, it is not my job to play internet sleuth, and it is DEFINITELY not my job to play judge, jury, and executioner. This is not my business, and I will not crucify someone because one single weird message in my inbox, nor should anyone else.

Seriously, what the hell.

#dd responds #anon ask #what the fuck is this #why did you send me this #seriously #what the hell is wrong with you

[xardoth]

Unknown Source | Pelle Ohlin

Hallo! This interview doesn't have questions, it was only Pelle's answers. Once my schedule calms down I'm gonna try to get some Øystein interviews published :)!

"THE ANSWEAR...ING OF YOUR QUESTIONS---?

This is not sooo many answears I give you, but what the fuck it's so many questions HUH! Ok, I'll try now.

1? It goes very slowly

2. No, I wear a warm jacket.

3. The simple reason is that I couldn't find another, what do you thoughts?

4. GLLLUAPP... NW. G!.. Oh yeah the question.. The reason to live is, of course, to die, but after that... hmmmmm.. WAIT I'M NOT FINISH YET.. there is so many ideas about this, so I don't knowe, what about that???

5.0 I like to discuss that. The most of all idiots want to die when they are sleeping and quickly - no pain. I prefer to die slowly so I can see how it feels - WHAT A PLEASURE! I'll only do this once.. and why not in TORMENT?

6..2? Ok, I had heard the name before! Don't say any thing.. Hmmmmmm.. Oh yeah I'll think Mayhem is a great band with cool dudes. I heard that Maniac leaves and maybe I will fit. I didn't knowe then that they know so lot of people. The contact of the very first degree were when I send them our (Morbid) rehearsal tape and of course a crucified rat. I think they liked that 'coz they sacrificed it in a fire place. THE SMELL WAS GREAT!

7. NO! Ok, a longer answear (as you told me). Morbid doesn't exist anymore. The real Morbid were me and the guitarist John. Every one had an own reason to leave the band so we were split up. The other guitarist and the incredible stupid drummer Drutt wanted to call their new band Morbid. This NEW band sounded like the stupid poser band Testament(?). Me, John and some others told them friendly to change the name 'coz that's not Morbid. And they did... HA! Me and another guy will start up a new band (hobby band). At first we wanted to start up old Morbid again but John wimped out as always, so this is also another band, no name yet. An old member from the darktime before the demo, called T.6. Known(?) as shitcan. who did My dark subconscious and the most part of wings of funeral, will also join. what about the mysterious John, in the middle of  Åkersberga? We will record (just we) a following demo (!!!!!) of the first and only Dec. Moon (Morbid) demo. It will be one/eng/eins/ona - 1. song. The first demo ends with a trailer Death Execution, also known as La-LaLa-LaLa. etc... We will do the rest of it. INCREDIBLE, huh? (I HATE TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT IT'S OVER NOW... I will also take a break, think (??) worth it.. HALLO... HEY, Marcin? - Ok, I'm back now

8. In the very past time of the MORBID ages I did all the lyrics. That were a problem. I wanted the other guys to write, but they dont wanted to. And when I had done a lyric, the didn't like it, 'coz I writed the things that I'm into. But I wanted they to also write! That were a prblem of course. The things who influence me are Horror stuff, sometimes occult stories, psycokillers, some cannibalism, blaspheme, the christs, black magic and scare people to death, and corpse infections, etc;. Nowadays in MAYHEM we write the lyrics together. Now we try to describe how it feels strangled to death feel the face veins blowed up with blood it wents black before your and and unpleasant pictures turning round inside of your eyes. Another song is about the pleasure you feel when you get killed."

Thank you so much to my lovely friend Ember for sending me the original interview! Muah <3!

#pelle ohlin #dead #mayhem #black metal #death metal #lords of chaos #euronymous #øystein aarseth #hellhammer #necrobutcher #true norwegian black metal #varg vikernes #metalhead #metal

[incarnateirony]

You know, the phrasing make any contact is so funny post-consultation, hence wanting to make a spoopy magician joke at the time but passing on it, but it's like. Yeah man. So you're saying as long as nothing I do is directly addressing her, like a "hey (person)" post, like specifically the heyyyyyyy hey hey hey once we got into war mode... because truly, she had begun a war... then it is what it is.

This is my personal blog. The entire point is making no effort to contact her until recently calling her out and getting very direct when she pretended not to understand the consequences of her actions, but those consequences are like... done. Ish. Like they are doneing themselves. My work, my wrath, my rage, all of it. It quite literally went into the sun. I have burned my dread, and it will continue to burn.

I'm thinking back to the courtroom and the bailiff is like, this judge is very old school. And we whisper chatted a bit. So she was real to the point until they tried to pull that paper out about "posts from this morning" and this judge was dead ass like. what am i looking at. who's talking. who are all these people. Huh. And because I'm not assed to fight this case, which we could have today and I'd have demolished, it just. Whatever. Will you stay away from person. Judge I've literally never been in this town until today and left this woman three years ago. I'll sign wtfever. But it's not worth the hours, that'd just be a pride thing today, and you know, crucified ego and all of that. I didn't have time to counterfile, and I'd rather set this up on my own terms now that I have a means of serving her when I feel up to it.

Sipping on this caramel frappe. Listening to the moon dragon alchemy vibes. Today is such a good day. And yet it feels more like a checkpoint than the end. I want it to feel like the end, but no. No, if I let her get away with this, she'll come back to harass me in the next escalated form in three months. And again, and again, because she never goes away, she just gets... more. Idk. Idk man. This is ridiculous. No, she gets away with it this time... she just comes back anyway. The peace is fake. I will not be allowed peace. Her actual goal whether she faces it or not is to drive me off this planet, which is why she will spend months trying to break into places she doesn't even go to do harm. I am the reality blocking a schizophrenic narrative, I am the kink in a fantasy gear, the fact that I am real but not there has literally driven her mad. Projections and shadows and excuses rule. I am not allowed anywhere to exist or be safe without her and hers invading it. She just didn't like it when the literal mirror actually turned to face her this time. In 2 months she cracked more than I did in 3 years. And even then, it was all contained on my blog, a place that must be navigated to. Whereas for me no fandom, no social, no discord has been safe from them. They will literally dedicate their lives to coming after me. Six months, man.

It's just. Bittersweet. One of those, it didn't have to be like this, but it is, and I guess will be. She has no intention of changing her ways, or repenting or apologizing. She will most absolutely already be planning her next cynical attack on me since this one didn't work really. I don't know. It's... I don't know why Mark lets her do this to herself, honestly. Maybe it's some petty revenge from him I can't place. I don't know.

I repeat, this is a journal. Me having a personal space in which I write out my thoughts is not an attempt at communication with anyone, especially minding the contents. I just want a space where I can be left alone and just Be. That shouldn't be so fucking ridiculous to have asked for.

I literally said at the start, this is my personal journal. It is, if you will, a shadow bloc, similar to the one that was stolen from me for ill use if in a different phase. I process horrible shit all day long at my job to save real lives, and having a dump space I can type out on the side whatever I need is literally an active form of psychotherapy and grounding I use. I work through their darkness and then find ways to work through it and my own responses to any of it. Someone just... picked a fight with a digital era magus in their liminal spaces. Sigh.

[lays on the floor]

and who is this song for

[malachiexists13]

Two new drawing ideas popped into my mind so Imma do them but idk when it'll be posted so lemme just explain myself first-

So my genshin account is weird in terms of luck. I am an Alhaitham main, an Alhaitham haver, an Alhaitham regretter bc my favorite character is Xiao and I literally pulled Alhaitham INSTEAD OF XIAO- anyways

On Alhaitham's debut banner, I got C1 Alhaitham, C1 Xinyan, and Yun Jin, not a SINGLE Yaoyao. I didnt even want her, I just found it funny that I got 2 of the new 5-star but not the new 4-star. I did get Yaoyao months later on the standard banner but like- wtf happened here.

Anyway, my C1 Alhaitham spawned the "big Yaoyao" joke between me and my sister. So now Im gonna draw Alhaitham as Yaoyao :)

BUT! we have a second joke to draw.

I really want Tighnari. Like- I dont even like him that much, I just want him bc Sumeru fucking sucks and I happen to have both Alhaitham and Cyno who have shitty ascension materials and Tighnari has the explorer talent thingy like Yanfei, Gorou, Klee, and Mika.

At 49 pity on Nahida's banner, I got a 5-star. And I cannot explain how I was praying it was not Nahida and that it was Tighnari, I WANTED to lose the 50/50 (I couldnt win a 3rd one. My sister would crucify me. I won Alhaitham and Cyno, I couldnt win Nahida) But I got Keqing instead, who happens to be my sister's main. So we immediately started joking "huh. My Tighnari looks a little weird. He's purple?"

So now Im gonna draw Tighnari as Keqing.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #genshin yaoyao #yaoyao #genshin tighnari #tighnari #genshin keqing #keqing

[sevenmikento]

A/N: hello!! this request sounds super lit but i am Scared of not writing their dialogue witty enough so imma just try my best! :D i hope you have a nice day as well hehe

genres: fluff, BIG angst, sort of happy ending?, tw death, tw blood and gore; 2k words

divine omniscience [Sukuna X Reader]

“Do you guys think it’s true? What Gojou-sensei said?” Nobara asks out of the blue as she casually munches on a fry that certainly was not from her tray.

“You gotta be more specific, dude,” Yuuji replies, speaking with his mouth half-full of burger. She scrunches her nose at him as she reaches for another one of Megumi’s french fries.

“Y’know when he said all that stuff about Sukuna having only one known trusted companion or whatever. I mean, everything in the texts seems pretty vague, no?”

“Yeah, ‘companion’ is not the kind of word I’d associate with someone like him.” Megumi chips in, pushing his tray closer to the girl sitting opposite him.

“Kinda wanted to ask if they meant it sexually but I swear he’ll just start giggling and wasting our time.”

The three friends continue to chatter on about their theories and interpretations of their earlier class’s contents, all the while completely unaware of the fourth party listening in–the one who is actually most knowledgeable on the topic they’re so oddly curious about.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you are the one who knows the most, that is if you’re still alive. Though Sukuna doubts you died within the time he was away. You’re too smart for that.

The village chanted, faces obscured behind masks carved from wood and dyed red from the colour of the witch’s blood. Watching from within the shadows, Sukuna felt compelled to observe the ritual, having never felt such a strong surge in cursed energy in his entire existence.

He was proven to have wrongly assumed it was coming from the outraged villagers when they finally set your crucified body alight and a blanket of black cursed energy covered the area, engulfing every single one of the citizens beneath it. Bone-chilling screams and begs for mercy filled his ears, the sound muffled but satisfying to listen to nonetheless.

When the strange turn of events finally came to an end and the energy receded into your bloodied and broken body, the King of Curses himself decided that he’d finally found someone worth his time.

At the end of your torturous life as a human and the start of your existence as a newly born cursed spirit, you were honestly a little too much for Sukuna to handle. Despite having never heard of cursed energy or jujutsu sorcery, you were quick to pick up everything you needed to know and then some.

Not only were you dangerously intelligent, but you were also completely unphased by him and his raw power, no matter how much he made sure to display it–whether it be in the form of exterminating a town of people or setting a forest ablaze with just a snap of his fingers.

“Scared yet?” he would ask, a smug grin on his face. You would smile back without a hint of sarcasm or dishonesty.

“No,” you’d reply without a second thought, “because I know you will never hurt me.”

What Sukuna initially assumed was well-hidden arrogance turned out to be a mere fact you were stating. A piece of truth you’d gained due to the nature of your ever-growing curse technique. Outwardly, the King could deny it all he wanted to, he could threaten you day and night, grab your throat and tighten his grip just to prove you wrong but he would never–has never–done any harm unto you.

When he had come to accept that as the truth, he tried deluding himself into believing he kept you around merely for your wealth of knowledge and powerful supply of cursed energy. Those were, in fact, his reasons at the start of it all–they were why he even walked into the village that fateful day and used his reverse cursed technique on you.

“You can say that all you want,” you once said, reaching up to wipe the blood off his face with your sleeve while the same red substance stained your own skin, “but we both know the main reason you keep me by your side.”

He did not respond.

Instead, he scoffed and grabbed your chin with one hand before raising the other and mimicking your gesture. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, Sukuna wiped the blood off your face with his thumb as the cries of the dying soldiers around you slowly faded to nothing.

“Their name was (Y/N).” His voice echoes shortly within the confines of Yuuji’s dark bedroom.

“What?” the sorcerer blearily murmured, having been on the verge of falling asleep when the King of Curses himself decided to speak.

“My companion… though, they would have preferred the word ‘partner’... was named (Y/N).”

“Why’re you telling me this?” Yuuji groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“The inaccuracies your teachers spread to your friends are painful to listen to,” Sukuna scoffs. “Frankly, it’s insulting and disrespectful.” The cursed spirit’s choice of vocabulary throws his vessel off guard.

“... You must’ve liked them a lot, huh?” Yuuji responds, voice softer than before as he feels his initial frustration of being denied his sleep fading away. “It’s weird to imagine someone like you feeling indignant on someone else’s behalf.”

“Well,” Sukuna smirks to himself, “let’s just say they’re the only one I have any respect for in this godforsaken world.”

“He plans on betraying you,” you stated matter-of-factly, opening your eyes for the first time throughout the entire meeting.

Sukuna had called forth a few powerful cursed spirits under the pretence of forming an alliance, with his true intentions being to simply size them up and subtly intimidate them into leaving his newfound territory alone–if they valued their lives, that is. He didn’t need to tell you of his plans and he knew he didn’t have to for you to understand it completely.

The cursed spirit you’d singled out widened his eyes before his expression turned hostile. “Don’t spout bullshit! I’ve done nothing but agree with everything Sukuna-sama has said!”

Sukuna watched the events unfold silently, unable to help but feel something in his chest swell with warmth as he observed you.

“I know everything.” Your simple reply was enough to enrage the spirit who shot out of his chair and seemingly began to lunge in your direction.

“You fucking wh–!” he cried.

Where his head used to sit was a neck sliced cleanly through the middle as everyone in the room felt a gust of wind brush past their terrified faces. The only outliers were you and the perpetrator of the murder himself, both smiling as one would out on a walk on a pleasant afternoon. His skull bounces twice on the tatami flooring before it disappears alongside his body.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think, Sukuna?” The other cursed spirits practically break out in a cold sweat upon hearing you so daringly speak to the King of Curses after such a display of his power.

“That was merciful, my dear,” he responded casually, reaching out a clean hand to wipe away the droplets of blood that had reached your face. Still touching you, he turned to the others. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

“No, they’re terrified,” you laugh when they fail to respond, all still shaking where they sat.

“Good–”

“Of me.”

He scrunches his nose and softly pushes your face away but a smile still creeps onto his face as he thinks to himself, ‘as they should be.’

Nobara and Megumi would find it hard to believe had the information not come directly from Yuuji’s mouth, as well as the additional mouth that had unceremoniously popped up on his cheek mid-conversation.

“You’re saying everything wrong!” Sukuna had exclaimed after making his appearance and refusing to leave until Yuuji had gotten all the facts right.

When he was finally satisfied, he still didn’t leave right away, sensing the two sorcerers wanted to know more. “Well?” He prompts. “Just ask your fucking questions already, we don’t have all day.”

“If you put it like that… then I’ll just ask it as it is and you’re not allowed to get all pissy, ‘kay?” Nobara responds. Megumi and Yuuji share a nervous glance.

“How’re you so sure they’re not dead?”

He wished he hadn’t left you on such a bad note; that he didn’t spit at your feet and push you away when you tried to stop him from leaving the temple in which you both sought refuge. He wished he’d at least bade you a proper farewell and that his last words to you didn’t consist of him questioning your abilities just so he could keep his ego intact.

As Sukuna laid dying, surrounded by Japan’s most powerful sorcerers, he realised, finally, that he would never see you again; or feel your hand wipe at his face after another victorious battle.

For the first time in his life, the King of Curses shed a tear.

The braver sorcerers scoffed, some even taunted him, assuming he was merely afraid of death, whereas the warier ones hesitated in approaching him to deliver the final blow, taken aback by the uncharacteristic gesture. Still, with his immense cursed energy forming a protective barrier around him as a last resort, the sorcerers hadn’t won the battle quite yet.

A few minutes later, in fact, they lost it.

Sukuna remains silent, pondering over Nobara’s question. As promised, he didn’t show his anger and hid his grief even better. Truth be told, he doesn’t know if you’re alive.

“I told you not to go,” you spoke, voice trembling as you rested his head in your lap, your hands wiping the blood off his face. “I told you you’d die, didn’t I? Why didn’t you listen? Why?”

The sound of your soft sobs mingled with the noise from outside the pitch-black barrier you’d placed around the both of you. The sorcerers who survived your ambush were chipping away at your cursed energy shield and it was only a matter of time before they would break through.

“Even after all I said to you before I left,” Sukuna murmurs, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his, “this is what you choose to scold me over?” He let out a weak chuckle.

“I know of your grief and regret, I know you’re sorry and I’ve long forgiven you.”

“Thank you, my (Y/N).” He turned his head to press his lips against your palm for the final time. “Now go. You have to escape before the damned sorcerers force their way in.”

“No.” Your defiant tone juxtaposed with your tear stricken face amused him. “I’ll be here to see you off and then I’ll kill them all.” You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I’ll wait for your return, my love.”

When Sukuna refused to answer Nobara’s question and promptly disappeared, the trio assumed that was the end of it all. As much as they wanted to leave the information behind them, they still find themselves talking about it as they wait in line at a new sushi place that opened near the school.

“Kinda weird he was so insistent on telling us everything, huh?” Yuuji remarks.

“I highly doubt that was close to everything, though.” Megumi scratches the back of his head. “It felt like he was withholding a lot, like when he didn’t answer Nobara’s question.”

“Yeah, that was pretty lame,” she says with a pout. “I really wanna know if they’re alive or not. I mean, their whole story was pretty interesting but imagine how scary it’ll be if (Y/N) was still alive and in Japan after all this time.”

“Table for three, please,” Yuuji says to the staff at the counter once it’s their turn. They stare at him for a brief moment before a happy yet somehow sinister smile stretches across their face. The jujutsu sorcerer feels his blood run cold as he feels Sukuna suddenly begin to vie for control over his body.

“Finally,” you whisper, body and soul flooded with sheer relief as tears run down your face. You reach your hand out to touch Yuuji’s face and though he tries his very hardest to turn away and run, he finds his body frozen in place. “I’ve been waiting for you, my love.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #imagines #scenarios #fluff #angst #somewhat happy ending #tw death #tw blood and gore

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Forgive Me: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you've sinned. but will your punishment be enough to absolve you of your transgressions?

wc: 1.3k

tw: NSFW (spanking, unprotected sex, ScAnDoLoUs BeHaViOr) If you're super religious, you might have a hard time with this one. Please proceed with caution. (oh lordt, I'm going to hell for this, please do not crucify me.)

masterlist

You walk into the small chapel with your purse held close to your chest, the sound of the reverend packing his things making you nervous. A chill runs down your spine, and you clear your throat, calling attention to yourself.

When Reverend Geto turns to you, his long black hair slides over his shoulder, and his onyx eyes widen a fraction. "Ms. Y/n." You offer him a small smile, dipping your head so you look at your shoes. "I haven't seen you around here in a while. How are things?"

"Fine," you breathe. "Things are just fine."

"I know you and Mr. Gojo were recently divorced. I sent you a letter; did you not receive it?"

"I did. Your words were very... eloquent." The smile the reverend gives you is sweet and full of kindness. "But I didn't come here to talk about that," you admit, sitting down on a pew. The reverend sits next to you, lacing his wide fingers together and sitting back a fraction.

"What can I do for you?" he wonders, tilting his head to the side.

"I've sinned quite a bit in the last few weeks..." you whisper, and the reverend nods.

"I see."

"And I was hoping for some kind of penance. I need to get back on track." The reverence doesn't speak but crosses his legs carefully, considering your words before murmuring,

"And what have you done that needs forgiveness?"

"I have lusted after someone who is not mine." Your confession doesn't make him flinch. Instead, he brings his laced fingers and mouth to meet, leaning forward. "And I have done so many times. Even before I was officially divorced."

"May I ask..." Please don't ask who, you mutter internally. "What brought these thoughts to you?"

"Mr. Gojo was never faithful." The reverend shrugs, knowing the playboy antics of his former parishioner. "My eye started to wander... and I--" you break off, words catching in your throat. Geto leans over to rub you on the back, encouraging you with nothing but this small gesture. "I almost sinned with my body, Reverend." At this, tears come to your eyes and you wipe away at them before he can see you begin to cry over the sham of a marriage and absolute failure of a life.

"There, there... but you didn't, Ms. l/n. You held out until the end, and for that, you are incredible. Most would have crumbled entirely." You lean into his touch, craving the feeling of a warm body near you, and he envelops you in a hug, tenderly whispering comforting words that should have eased your soul. But when you touch the hem of your sundress, you remember why you came here.

"How can I be absolved of my guilt, Reverend?" you wonder, and he pulls away a fraction, looking into your eyes.

"You must not let your guilt run your life. You are an unmarried woman now, and you are free to pursue your person of interest."

"What if that person isn't available to me?"

"Are they in a relationship?"

"I don't think so."

"Are they dying or dead?"

"No."

"Then you should pursue them. I would pursue my person if they were available to me, so why should you not do the same?" At his words, your heart skips a beat, and you pull away fully, resting your arm against the cool pew armrest.

"The Reverend has a crush?" you tease, and he looks away from you, rubbing his neck carefully.

"I've had a crush on this person for a long time," Geto murmurs, and you hum.

"Tell them how you feel, then. If I have to do it, you should as well."

"That's the thing," Suguru mutters, standing up and adjusting his tab collar. "It's hard to do when you can't find the right words to ease either of your sufferings."

"You're very skilled with words," you encourage him. "What would you say if you had the chance?" Geto places his hands on either side of the table in front of him, facing the stained glass window and lifting his head slowly. His hair falls down his back, and you half-expect it to blend into his black shirt.

"I would tell her she's beautiful and interesting; she's more than any man could ever ask for, but that she just doesn't know it." You smile sadly at these words, lowering your head.

"I'm sure whoever she is, she'll appreciate those words."

"And you? What would you say?"

"I would tell him that he's a gentle creature who deserves the world and whatever he asks for." Suguru chuckles, dropping his head then turning to face you again.

"A 'gentle creature who deserves the world', huh? That's beautiful. When will you tell him this?"

"I..." You think about the implications of your next words and hold them back. "Maybe next time I see him. You?" He looks over at you, undoing his tab collar.

"I just did." You inhale sharply, and your heartbeat quickens again, thumping wildly under your dress. "But I look forward to hearing how you maintain your newest relationship. He's a lucky man."

"My penance," you remind him, and he frowns.

"For what? Lusting after someone? Or for tempting me into sin?" Your lips part as he advances on you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "For making me lose my mind? Or for dreaming of you bent over a table and committing sacrilege in this holy dwelling?"

"Reverend..." you pant, feeling slightly faint.

"Dismiss my ramblings, Ms. l/n. I wouldn't dare encroach on territory I have no claim to." Geto drops your hand, walking back over to the podium. "Forgive me."

"No," you exhale, and he turns toward you, shocked. "You must also pay penance... for tempting me into sin as well. " The smirk on the reverend's face is wicked, almost so sinful that you consider your hell-bound fate with little regret.

_____________________________________________________________

And pay penance, you did.

You lay across the table in the reverend's dining room, sundress gathered around your hips as you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. The smacking of flesh brings you back to the present, and you exclaim as another smack is delivered on the same asscheek.

"You're taking all of me so well..." the reverend moans, the table creaking under the weight. "This pussy is fucking tight."

"Yeah?" you breathe, and he nods, hair falling all around his face in the dimming light of the setting sun. The stream of light shines right above his head like a halo, and you can't help but feel overjoyed at the feeling of him pressing into you. "Oh, god. Help me," you pray to yourself, and Geto slides two fingers between your legs to play with your clit, nipping at your earlobe.

"So wet... just for me..." You huff out a loud breath, forehead pressing against the cool wood and eyebrows scrunching up in focus.

"I'm gonna cum," you whine, and Geto slams your hips into the wood repeatedly, picking up his pace significantly.

"I want to hear that sweet mouth when you do," he orders. "I want to hear you say my name." Your legs begin to give out and your find leverage on the table's edge, whispering repeatedly,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

It only takes a moment more before you're cumming all over Geto's cock, quivering around his length, and being held up in his arms.

"Suguru," you pant as he continues to fuck into you, holding you by the neck from behind and making your ass one more time. He pulls out suddenly, still holding you as he grunts your name, warm cum coating your ass liberally. After a moment, he lets you back down and grabs a towel to wipe your backside.

"Have I been forgiven?" you wonder listlessly.

"I'm sure you have," Suguru murmurs, placing a trail of kisses down your back. "I know I've forgiven you." You smile, closing your eyes as you feel much lighter than before.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru #getou x reader #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen

[azrielsbxtch]

All the reasons why I do not like Elain....

1) She’s the airhead who planted flowers when her family was literally starving. I don’t think anyone understands how pissed I get when I think about that.

2) Idk why people come for only Nesta when calling out what happened in the cabin but let me kindly remind you that sweet Elain was also an accomplice in being a terrible person to Feyre. I’m not even talking about the fact that she didn’t help. Fuck that. I’m talking about the fact that one time Feyre came back dirty and tired and they were all sitting at the dining table and she put her hand near Elain and she quickly removed her hand. Literally removed her hand as if Feyre was disgusting. Someone who just risked her life for you.

3) In that same scene,Nesta and Feyre had a fight and she ran after Nesta “cooing sympathies”. She chose sides in that cabin between her two sisters so forgive me if I despise the fact that the sister she didn’t choose is the one providing her current affluent lifestyle.

4) In ACOFAS,when Nesta was LITERALLY SUICIDAL,Elain visited once and because Nesta wasn’t very nice (you know because she’s suicidal and all) Elain had the nerve to be mad at Nesta,never checked in again and moved on with her flowers.

5) Then in ACOSF she had the nerve,the audacity to say that Nesta was making her trauma all about her. That’s literally what she did in ACOFAS so please gtfo.

6) I could write a whole book on how she abandoned Nesta in ACOSF but we all read the book. It’s not even a fucking joke when I say this girl chose flowers over her sister.

7)And now she’s cushy in the River mansion,living her best life after skipping from one sister to the other.

8)Apart from all of that,There is NOTHING....ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about Elain as a character than intrigues me. I literally do not care about her future in the books. In fact back when I was still indifferent about her in ACOWAR and the cauldron kidnapped her,I was like “huh” and I continued reading. I did not give one fuck about her because she’s not a character with substance. If you like her,good for you. But there is nothing about Elain that does it for me.

Disliking Elain has nothing to do with being a misogynist.

There are legitimate reasons why people don’t like Elain nobody gives a fuck about her being shy and quiet.

The problem is y’all let her get away with things characters like Nesta would never get away with.

Because Nesta is outspoken she’s immediately crucified.

But because Elain is quiet she gets away with shit.

Double. Fucking. Standards.

[parlideldiavolo]

have mercy, pt. 03

(CW: Violence and injury.)

lll.

The building was empty. Vic wondered if it had any significance—the Saints tended to be premeditated in what they did and loved their symbolism, as evidenced by the sound of a heavy whip hitting the ground.

Killian--Mercy, he corrected himself--wouldn’t do this just anywhere. Vic wanted to pick the thought apart further and see where it led but his attention was drawn instead to the heavy coils that pooled around the Saint’s feet.

He wanted to laugh. Love, huh?

(It made sense. If the stories were true, his race had been cursed because of love--the love of one being turned into punishment, because devils had love for an imperfect world free of its chains. Something like that.)

Mercy watched him from across the warehouse floor with same unchanging sorrow that had haunted his face since they’d first seen each other. The older man closed his eyes and took a deep breath (and that was an opportunity.) 

(Vic didn’t take it.)

The following exhale was deep and shuddering. When Mercy next looked up his face, from line-worn eyes to graying beard, was tear-stained. Vic wasn’t sure what he felt, seeing that. More anger? Jealousy?

The brightness in his eyes sharpened as Mercy slid his palms across the heft of the whip. What looked to be two or three gold trammel-like items, or spikes, had been seated in his belt. The older man’s shoulders rose and his body swelled to fill the room. With his next breath a serpentine cross was revealed to be seated at his collar. The dress he wore was dark and ashen.

It was about time he looked less like a kind older man, Vic thought. A monster hunter stood in front of him instead and it matched far better with the man Vic had last seen many years ago. The devil’s attention drifted up to the old burn scar on Mercy’s face. He thought of the burnt-out phone lying crumpled in the car and hoped seeing that had opened up an old, old wound.

“When they took you into the Sanctum,” the older man began, and there was the faintest tremor in his voice as he spoke, ”I didn’t know what would happen.”

Vic’s fists tightened. “Didn’t expect me to burn your face, I’ll wager.”

The burn scar that crossed Mercy’s skin tugged as he spoke. “That moment, when you were on the pyre, I was reaching for you. I meant to pull you free.”

That wasn’t how Vic remembered it.

Mercy blinked the tears away. “You can’t help your nature. And I... have learned.”

It didn’t change anything. Not if they were still standing here.

“Nothing left to say?” Vic asked while hooking fingers into his gloves and ripping them off.

“Yes,” Mercy replied. “But I know you won’t listen.”

“Then give me something worthwhile to hear besides ‘I love you.’”

Mercy’s smile faded. “It is like a devil to not understand love.”

Vic sensed the shift before it happened. The floor where he’d been standing shattered as the heavy throng of the whip broke the concrete into slabs. It whipped back with an audible groan but Vic was already blazing across the floor.

<“Try again!”> he snarled.

The rage was easier to direct. It slammed him into the Saint with a flurry of fire and smoke that roared over the heartbeat in his ears or the worries that swept like currents. He struck fast, landing blows across shoulders and bearing the weighted buffet of Mercy slamming the hilt of the whip across his side. It felt like acid.

Vic spun away, dodged the next crackling roar of the whip as it flew and lunged through the spiraling loop it made before the coils could snap shut and crack his spine in half.

A concrete column exploded when Mercy whipped it back. The dust cloud erupted like a sudden storm of ash; Vic sank low, flipped over the next swinging link like a dancer and swooped close to catch Mercy’s forearm and wrench away the punch that might have shattered his jaw. Mercy gasped in pain and spat blood. A quick shp sound was all the warning Vic received before a blade shot out of the Saint’s wrist and glanced off the devil’s rib. Blood steamed as it sprayed and the hallowed blade ripped clean through Vic’s shirt.

Vic had experience with Saints’ weapons. He knew what they were like—how they burned and debilitated, paralyzed, or inflicted unusual agony to the monsters they were unleashed on. He knew what to expect and could feel the sanctified thrum of energy that buzzed off the whip every time it swung.

Being prepared helped to withstand the effects themselves, but the simple reality of their pain remained. Vic felt his next blow land with a sharp crack that had Mercy doubling. The next attempted gutting swung wide.

<“Show your face,”> Mercy roared as they spun and tangled like a flurry.

Vic wanted to roar back this is my face but settled for grabbing Mercy’s head as his eyes went black and then erupted with the same flaming scarlet that poured from his mouth when Vic breathed fire straight at the Saint’s eyes.

Mercy twisted out of the pillar of flame and caught most of it on the side of his head, ear and beard. He swung Vic aside and ripped a hand through the grey-streaked strands to rip the flames out.

Another column exploded. Vic caught the edge of a link on his next series of snarling vaults through the whip’s labyrinth of chains and felt his forearm snap.

None of the hits he received were rewarded with even a murmur of pain. Vic’s tongue stayed behind his teeth as he stumbled to clap a hand over his bloodied arm. His tattoos roared to life as the wound was healed.

Mercy was breathing heavily, bruised and flushed by fire. Vic met his eyes and could feel the light smoke curling from between his sharpening teeth. The storm of grey in his eyes flared ruby when the storm receded to black out the whites of his eyes.

Is this the face that you want?

Vic’s tapered tail whipped out and cracked across Mercy’s wrist when the blade came up and dark wings buffeted them across the room to crash them against iron shelving and send Mercy reeling. The next hilt jab caught Vic across the hip. His hands ripped at the Saint’s neck and the disabling cross that hung there--one made in the likeness of a gilded, crucified serpent. 

Fights rarely last long. Most happen in heartbeats before they’re finished and the dazed dance of fire, smoke, gold and blood comes to a close. Mercy’s chest heaved ragged and he smelled burnt and torn as blood streamed from his nose and brow to smear across the dress he wore. Blood stained Vic’s teeth. The desire filling his mouth tasted like death and ash.

Mercy went to grab his hand, or so it seemed, but Vic felt something pierce it instead.

Ah, the calculating part of Vic thought through the veil of anger. This is new.

In that split second Vic could have killed him. It would have been easy—either with claws, teeth, fire. The tattoos that spanned his body erupted with light.

He hesitated.

(He’s fourteen years old, perched on the arm of a chair holding a box with a wounded kitten in his lap. His uncle is smiling; Killian says, ‘you should be a healer.’ He lights up.)

Vic’s hand went numb. The split second his fingers relaxed a crack of the whip caught the side of his head, snagged a horn and yanked.

He was able to catch himself and rip free but the numbness in his hand remained. When Vic glanced down he could see one of the small, spear-head shaped trammels he’d taken note of earlier embedded in his hand. The arcane light that flared from the tattoos on that hand dimmed and wavered.

Vic could hear his heartbeat again. It pounded in his pinned-back ears when Mercy wrested himself off the floor; the blood that erupted around the sanctified gold steamed.

He had to end it.

The Saint must have had the same thought—he didn’t have the body or endurance that Vic did. 

Vic’s hand still wasn’t responding when the next assault came. By the time he felt the next piercing sensation the whole room was lit with smoke.

This wouldn’t be the end. It couldn’t be--an end for Vic would be much more grand than this.

So, he kept fighting even when feeling drained from his fingertips. He fought because there were people who couldn’t be hurt, not by the Saints, not by this Saint, and not by some fucking god. He fought until Mercy, hedged against a wall, ripped a serpentine cross from his belt.

It was bladed at the end. Vic discovered that when it sank into his chest with the hand of a Saint at its hilt. This was something he could shake off and recover from.

Usually.

Vic stumbled back. The room spun. Mercy released the bladed cross and stepped back with a catch of breath and clutch of his own chest as he doubled over.

Vic stumbled again. That’s when the devil, who had so far been silent except for his anger, heard himself scream.

It was a raw, seething sound. Agony exploded inside his chest. It had pierced something, something vital, more vital than a simple organ and Vic was hemorrhaging power uncontrollably as the room spun.

He couldn’t pull it out—his hands wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t heal—the blazing of his tattoos danced wildly like a candle caught in wind as his power surged inward, deep, deep within to try and heal what the cross had punctured.

Strands of fire and smoke dripped from his mouth like blood. If he’d been aware he would have noticed his body uncontrollably shifting from one form to another as he convulsed. Whatever threads had woven his endemic memory together were snapping at the seams, because Vic was suddenly Falling.

Mercy watched, stricken, through a veil of broken skin and burnt hair.

It occurred to some small, lucid part of Vic that he was afraid--not of Mercy, not of anything, except... dying.

Vic’s vision blurred. He’d spent all this time coming to terms with it—with a horrible end and thinking he could meet it with a grin—but now all he could think about was Ireland. They were supposed to go there.

(Mercy had also stumbled back. Now the older man painfully lifted himself from the wall.)

So many unfulfilled debts and promises. Friendships. Vic couldn’t fail them.

(The Saint braced a hand against it and pushed himself upright.)

He didn’t want to lose them. Or his dad. Meph. His family.

(“I… mercy,” the Saint murmured as he began to walk forward. His voice shook. The first blade shone in his hand. “I'll have mercy.”)

He didn’t want to leave him.

Vic’s unfeeling fingers slid from burning gold, and his legs finally buckled as the world fell away.

#standalone #post #(feels self conscious) (posts anyway) #chad moments

[ill-skillsgard]

Faust x Faith - No Looking Back

Warning: 18+ smut, public sex, violence, blood, arson, implied death, mentions of non-consensual touching (nothing explicit and no r-words used,) mentions of stalking, unconsciousness, anti-religious themes, strong language.

Note: Hey, hey. I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but haven’t had much time. This isn’t based on any requests—just something I feel needs to happen to move the universe along. After this, I’ll be basing future FxF stuff off drabble requests instead of going story-heavy for a bit. Likes, comments and reblogs are suuuper ‘ppreciated!

Summary: - Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration - 3.6K words -

Faust makes good on his word to protect Faith, taking drastic measures to assure her assailant never bothers her again.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

Thin raindrops pattered the man's leather jacket as he walked through the streets with his hood drawn up and his eyes low. For two days, the drizzle persisted and melted the black snowbanks into slush. Though the dismal atmosphere kept most inside, Sven had good reason to travel across town on foot. The promise of a girl's company waited at the end of his route, and he put off his regular nightly routine of masturbating to fetish porn for—what he hoped was—the real thing.

He glanced at his cracked phone screen every few minutes to check in with her, making sure she hadn't changed her mind, that she was serious. From the earnestness of her messages and the speed at which she replied to his questions, he determined she meant what she said about wanting to meet. Finally, his luck was turning. He’d show that miserable bastard Faust who was the better man.

- What abt ur bf? Lol

- What about him? Not here, is he?

- Thought u were a good girl.

- Haha, not really. Are you close?

- Ya. Y r we meeting at this random place?

- I need you to promise you won't tell a soul. If you can prove that to me, maybe we can keep meeting up.

- Lol ok. I PROMISE I won't say a word😉

- Thank you. Hurry, please. It's cold out!

- Be there in 5. I'll let u wear my jacket altho idk might not need it😉

- Hehe omgosh. You're making me blush.

- I'll make u do way more then blush baby. Just wait.

Sven lengthened his strides and turned the corner onto a hill leading toward the industrial area of town. Down the slope, he walked past several warehouses and legions of trucks parked inside barbed-wire fencing. It was a peculiar site to meet up, but his rendezvous insisted on a place nobody would think to look.

Betting his night would take an erotic turn, Sven popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed away the cigarette taste. He was seconds away from the spot she chose to meet, and his chest constricted with excitement. His boots crunched over gravel and garbage as he walked down a narrow alley between two faceless buildings. There was an open lot at the end of the lane, where he assumed she was waiting. As he made his way through the dimly lit alley, he whistled to make his presence known. The shrill tune reverberated off an overflowing dumpster to his left, and as he stepped to clear the reeking trash receptacle, something hard and blunt swung out at eye-level and flattened him to the ground.

Dazed and blinded from the sudden strike, he tried moving his mouth, but only a bubble of blood popped from his lips. A piercing stream of sound filled his ears as the edges of his vision turned dark. A large black figure came into view above, haloed by the soggy grey sky in the deepening veil. The featureless shadow chuckled deeply before a heavy boot's tread put out his lights.

~*~

Several hours passed before Sven's eyelids shuddered. By then, his assailant had had plenty of time to tie him to a wooden chair and organize his instruments of punishment. A headache blistered through the man's skull, throbbing in his eye sockets until he gained enough consciousness to open them. When he saw the person who had knocked him out, his throat closed and the gasp ripping through came out high-pitched.

"Faust... Please... Don't—" Sven hiccoughed. "Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY!"

Faust, who had been facing the doorway at the end of a long red runner, turned toward Sven, holding a hammer's handle in one hand while cradling the head in the other. A malicious smirk peeked out from a curtain of black hair. He took a step forward, the clomp of his leather boots echoing through the church. Each step made a menacing sound that bit down on Sven's nerves and rattled his sensitive skull.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I know you hate me, but please, don't hurt me. I swear I'll never talk to her again!"

Faust approached, flashing the obsidian hammerhead. He tossed the tool in his grip and stuck his hand into his pocket, producing several five-inch nails.

"No! God, no, please! Faust! Don't do this!"

The black-haired giant stopped to admire the curve of the hammer’s prongs. Sven looked around the empty church and saw a jerrycan taking up space in a nearby pew. He immediately started struggling against the jute rope binding his wrists and ankles to the chair as Faust drew nearer, smile uncoiling.

"I already gave you the chance to never talk to her again. Remember?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry means fuck all to me. You should know that. The only reason you left the campsite with your dick intact is because of the witnesses," Faust said, then spun around with his arms out, showcasing their solitude. "Now, it's just you and me."

"Please don't," Sven muttered through swollen lips. "Fuck, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing a sorry sack of human waste can provide this world to make me change my mind."

"SHE LIED!"

Faust jingled the nails in his jacket, reminding Sven who held the weapon.

"Whatever she told you... It's not true! I was at the party, but I didn't do anything to her!" Sven's voice cracked.

"Oh... So you didn't follow her into my bedroom?"

"No! I talked to her for a minute, and that's all. That's all, I swear, Faust. Don't kill me."

The stomp of boots neared the altar where Sven struggled in the chair. He twisted to loosen the rope and slipped one hand out. Faust grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the arm of the chair, readying a nail between his lips as he gripped the hammer. Sven let out a scream, stifled instantly by the hammerhead. Faust wedged the metal between his teeth and hissed.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'll use this to smash your teeth out like a goddamn window. Understand me?"

Sven nodded and quaked as Faust placed the tip of the nail against the soft, flat part of his forearm.

"Stay still. If I fuck up and hit the Radial or Ulnar artery... You could bleed out before I'm done. Gotta get it right between the bones." Faust slapped the pale skin to reveal blue veins. He pressed the nail’s tip in place and rose the hammer above his head, bringing it down and stopping short of the head as Sven shrieked.

Faust cackled. "Jesus Christ, dude. Did you really think I was gonna nail you to a chair?"

Sven groaned, relieved and moist with cold sweat. "Faust, I'm serious. Please, man. You gotta believe me."

His dark laughter continued, bouncing off the high ceilings, the wooden pews and polished floors. As Sven let out his own nervous chuckle, Faust brought the hammer down in one swift pull, then slapped his hand over Sven's gaping mouth to stifle the screams. Howling, Sven rattled his head back and forth as a searing bolt of pain tore through his right arm, crackling in his shoulder where it burned and burned.

Faust tore his phone out of his back pocket and brought up a video, slamming the screen into Sven's face. The video of him grabbing Faith in his room while he was states away watching the live feed from the camera he'd set up on the desk.

"I knew these little cameras would come in handy. See? I know what you did, you stupid fuck. And you know what else? I would have just beat the shit out of you had I not stopped by your place before our little meeting."

Sven whined, tears pouring from his eyes in steady streams.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I went into your room... Saw some interesting things on your computer. At first, I thought it was just standard fucking creep shit. Snuff porn, torture... Teen girls. None of that surprised me... Until I dug around and found your little stalker file buried in your folders. You didn't even encrypt it. How fucking stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry," Sven shook.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry for touching her. I should have left her alone."

"What'd you think was gonna happen? That she wouldn't tell me? Or that I wouldn't believe her? And now I know you've been following Faith around, taking pictures of her, you fucking predator. And what about those other women, huh? You sorry about them, too?"

"Yes! I'm sorry. I know I have problems! I'm trying to get help. Please, Faust. If you let me go, I promise I'll do it. I'll get better. I haven’t hurt anyone!"

Faust shook his head slowly, grunting in refusal. "No. I meant what I said when I told you I'd crucify you if you went near Faith again. I'm doing the world a favour."

Sven hung his head and bled from the grievous wound pinning him to the chair, shuddering weakly from his injuries. Faust would never relent. He'd witnessed the drummer's cold disdain, the malignant hatred living inside that made him turn to the dark with open arms. Faust wasn't an actor. He pledged himself to the darkness with unyielding conviction, never one to take such things lightly. This realization depleted Sven's will to reason with the man.

Faust gripped another thick nail and drove it through Sven's left arm, smiling as blood dripped from the wood onto the church altar. The violent yelps filled Faust with morbid delight as he pressed the bloodied hammer under his victim's chin and raised his face.

"You're gonna die tonight, Sven."

"What makes you better than me? You'll be a murderer," Sven stuttered. "You hurt people, too."

"You and I are not the same. Don't ever compare yourself to me. You're a coward, and I warned you. Tread on what's mine, and I'll destroy you. That's what I said."

"All this over a girl? Are you fucking crazy!?"

Faust stooped to one knee, looking up at Sven as though the insult had cut him. Faust's brows arched, bottom lip jutting outward as he studied Sven, who closed his eyes. Then, Faust rose to his feet, leather stretching from the motion. Faust tapped his chin, smiled, and leaned over to whisper, "yes... Totally fucking crazy."

With a powerful kick to the chest, Faust sent the chair and Sven toppling backward. He then unzipped his pants, pulled out his manhood and giggled as he emptied his bladder on the weeping man. While Sven cried and moaned, Faust closed his zipper, whistling merrily. He left Sven on his back and snatched the jerrycan from the pew, taking slow, calculated steps while twisting off the cap and dousing the altar in gasoline.

As the gas trickled, Sven's desperation mounted. He could not flail, so he screamed. Faust gently reminded him what he'd do to Sven's teeth if he carried on shouting. The pinned man blubbered and begged, but Faust ignored his pleas. Inside his head, all Faust heard was the sound of flames rushing into a circle around Sven, crackling over the carpet and up the old church's wooden beams. By the time the roof caught fire, Faust had planned on being long gone.

"Please, Faust... You'll regret this! I know you're a serious person, but this is too far. You won't be able to live with yourself!"

"Wrong. I couldn't live with myself knowing I let a vulture like you walk this planet freely." Faust poured a trail down the floor runner, far away from the altar. He tossed the can aside and looked up at the Catholic saints' stained-glass portrayals and Jesus at the center of it all, staring down with sad eyes. Faust took a book of matches from his pocket and ripped one from the bunch, running its tip across the ignitor strip until a small flame burst to life. Faust flicked the match to the ground without a second thought, and the flame ate up the gasoline trail swiftly. The church was illuminated, and the colourful glass windows came to life. Faust raised his eyes to the forlorn Jesus and leered while the fire spread.

He did not stay to admire his work or revel in the cries of a man burning alive. Faust fled before the fire consumed the church, not once looking back or wondering if his victim had somehow escaped. He trudged through puddles of slush, hair swinging in the wind, white shadows of breath leaving his mouth.

It was time to get back to finish the tour. But he had one more stop to make.

~*~

Faith left the mall after helping close the book store. She received small smiles and nods from the mall staff as they locked doors and unfolded security gates. Some of the people she had spoken to before, and some she had only seen in passing. Though she returned their pleasantries, inside Faith was fretting. She tried not to worry about her boyfriend or ask where he was under strict orders to go about her day as usual.

She stepped into the evening air as the sun sank, taking the blue from the sky along for the descent. Wisps of white cloud stretched across the pink and violet above. Faith took in a deep breath and walked to the bus stop situated between a movie theatre and a dollar store. She popped her earbuds in and turned on a song that reminded her of Faust; one he wouldn’t like. His music taste had no room for the upbeat indie rock she enjoyed. Still, she smiled when the lyrics reminded her of him.

The scent of cigarette smoke caught her attention, and she looked around, finding no culprit. She wondered where the smell came from if nobody was around but soon forgot when the city bus appeared in the distance. It had to make a long trek around the parking lot before it pulled up at the movie theatre. Faith readied her bus card to scan as another cloud of smoke enveloped her senses.

Faith whirled around, and there he was, all black and leather, white teeth clutching the filter of a cigarette. Faust smiled, his words bolting from his mouth as she clamped her arms around him and crushed her face into his chest. The leather and musk brought tears to her eyes. She ripped out her earbuds and tried not to weep.

He hushed her, lifted her off the ground and retreated into the shadowed alley between the theatre and the store. By the time the bus pulled up, Faust had pressed her against the brick wall behind the building.

"Faust. Oh my gosh, where have you been? I was so worried," Faith gasped.

"Sh, don't ask questions, baby." Faust smothered her mouth, holding her thighs around his waist.

"Mm—I love you. Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re here! I love you so freaking much."

"I know you do," Faust breathed against her lips. "I love you, too, babe."

"Tell me where you've been!"

Faust shook his head and kissed her neck instead. She raked her fingers through his hair, knocking his hood down so she could see him unobstructed.

"Told you... Don't ask... Mmkay?... Stop asking... Just let me... Mm—fuck!"

Faith pulled his pelvis inward with her thighs, rubbing against his crotch and the heavy bullet belt wrapped around his hips. In their cloud of lust, Faust pushed his black jeans down just enough to free his erection.

"Fuck, I love your little skirts. Makes it so easy," Faust murmured.

The thought of Faust showing up disquieted her, but his lips on her skin and his desire thwarted these anxieties for a while. She set aside her questions, happy to have him in her arms again and overcome by arousal. When he stretched her panties aside and pushed into her, they both froze in expressions of excruciating ecstasy. Faust tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and Faith clutched his shoulders, already writhing from the intense fulfillment between her legs.

Just as she thought Faust might drop her, he bent his knees and hoisted her higher up on the wall. In his arms, she weighed close to nothing. She missed feeling tiny against him.

"Miss my cock?" He growled in her ear.

"Yes, baby. Oh my gosh, of course, I missed it. I missed my big man."

"Yeah? Fuck, I miss my little pussy," Faust breathed. "Mm, show me those gorgeous tits."

Faith unbuttoned her work polo and stretched the collar down around her breasts for Faust to bury his face. Though there wasn't an abundance of flesh to lose himself in, Faust shivered from the first taste of her nipples. With muted groans of pleasure, he rammed into her until Faith could no longer contain her cries, unaccustomed to his girth. Faust absorbed her whimpers with his mouth, coaxing her tongue until she only hummed.

He felt ferocious from the last twenty-four hours. If he could make Faith scream without drawing attention, Faust would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she shredded her vocal cords. He had to keep a low profile. Even visiting Faith was a considerable risk, but one he relished taking as she clamped her thighs and rutted against him.

He supported her ass in both hands and shifted off the wall to fuck her standing up. While he took her this way, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered, whispering, "yes, fuck my pussy hard, big boy. Oh, I love that big cock inside me."

Faust unhooked and held her out so he could watch her breasts jiggle with every bounce. "You still taking your birth control? I'm gonna fucking bust so hard inside you, baby."

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, do it. Fill my pussy, please. I want your cum."

Her dirty talk and sweet sobs for his cock pushed him over the edge. He cradled her head as he pushed her against the wall and throbbed between her legs until empty. Faust pulled out and immediately turned her around and bent her over to watch globs of fresh cum dripping from her wet slit. He used one finger to push some of it back inside and had her suck off the rest. Afterward, he pulled up his pants and compressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other worked her clit in gentle circles. Faust didn't stop until she squealed and shuddered against him, muffled in his jacket and writhing from the manual orgasm.

When Faith calmed down, he released her and stepped away, pulling a cigarette from the squished pack in his jacket pocket. The lighter's flame created an orange halo around his face and promptly died. He smoked like nothing had happened while she fixed her skirt, buttoned her polo and zipped up her coat.

Faith smiled up at her lover, the night blotting out most of his features.

"I'm so glad you're home," she said.

"Not for long," Faust exhaled.

Her heart quivered. "Wait, what?"

"I gotta go back."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"What? No! But... You just got back," said Faith.

Faust shrugged, his leather jacket speaking for him. The evening matured, consuming the details of her hurt expression until the streetlamps along the road came to life.

"Why did you come here?"

Faust took one last long haul off his cigarette and flicked it down the alleyway. "Listen to me, Faith... You need to quit asking questions. I'm serious. The more questions you ask, the worse it'll be. And you and I did not see each other tonight. As far as you know, I'm on tour. Understand?"

"Yes," Faith said to appease him.

"I want to stay, trust me. But I can't. You know why. All the answers you want, you already have. Don't keep bugging, don't mention it ever again."

"I want to go with you," she whispered.

"No. You stay. Go to your classes, go to work, go visit your parents. Everything normal. And I don't want you moping around either. You put on that pretty smile, and you pretend for me. I'll call you in a couple of weeks before the last show and arrange a way for you to get there."

"What do you mean you’ll call in couple of weeks?" Faith whined. “What about goodnights?”

"I don't have a phone anymore."

"Why—? Oh, um... Okay. I understand."

Faust gathered the girl up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Good girl. I love you, and I miss you."

"I love you, too."

He tipped her face up and sensed tears forming in her eyes. Faust shook his head. "No crying. We'll see each other very soon. Just a couple more weeks."

"I know," she sighed.

"I love you more than anything, Faith. Now, go catch your bus. Should be here in a few minutes."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm on tour. I'm not even here," he explained.

Faust kissed her again, smoothed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face the bus stop. He urged her along. "No looking back. Hop on the bus and go do your schoolwork."

"Okay," she said, determined to make him proud. Faith walked out of the shadows and into the lamplight hovering over the depot. Across the lot, the city bus pulled in, and though she longed to turn around to see Faust watching over her, she kept her eyes forward and waited. When the bus pulled up, and the doors drew back, she stepped onto the platform and smiled at the driver as she scanned her pass. Faith took a seat in the back and put in her earbuds. She searched through a list of bands and selected the only one whose logo was illegible. As she pressed play, she listened to the immediate assault of the drums, their constant and violent beat. Faith smiled—warm in her chest and between her legs.

#faust x faith #valter skarsgård smut #valter skarsgård fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction #Valter Skarsgard imagine

[drawlfoy]

snake for a badger

masterlist requests are closed, but read this before you click away! message me/send an ask to be tagged :)

pairing: hufflepuff!reader x draco

request? nope this was something that i came up with myself but low key i had quite a few hufflepuff requests that i never attended to and i wanted to give the hufflepuffs some love (my longest fics have had either ravenclaw or gryffindor readers, so this is your moment y’all...if you’re a slytherin then i’ll have something coming up for you soon ;))

summary: 6th year hufflepuff y/n y/l/n doesn’t know if she be afraid of draco malfoy after her friends warn her about his potential status as a death eater...and the fact that he keeps showing up to save her isn’t helping. THIS IS A TEASER!!!! for a much longer oneshot that’s currently in progress!!

warnings: teen drinking, secondhand embarrassment, swearing

a/n: important note that THIS IS A TEASER. i honestly have no idea how the entire oneshot is going to look (even though i assume that this isn’t exactly a one shot if there’s this added onto it). i’m not even sure if this is going to be a scene--it’s just the very first thing i wrote for it, and i liked it. i feel like draco’s character in this is really tricky because i haven’t yet decided how “ooc” i want him to be. i just really liked this idea and i’ve always had the image of y/n saving draco in this particular movie scene. let me know your thoughts!

no music recs, this is just a teaser

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

word count: 2.5k

Her shoes dug into the back of her heels as she tried to keep up with Ginny around the corner. 

“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing those...torture devices,” the red-haired witch said without adjusting her stride in the slightest. Y/N was tempted to just rip them off then and there and attend Slughorn’s party barefoot and carefree, but she knew better. It was in her best interest to try and get on the good side of the professors. Even though she had no intention of holding an office in the Ministry or becoming an Auror, she still wanted a good scroll of recommendation from her Potions professor. Especially considering his connections.

“Why don’t you just spell the back of them soft?” asked Ginny. “That’s what Parvati does. At least, I think that’s what she does. I don’t know how else she’s able to wear them with her uniform every day.”

“She doesn’t know the first thing about shoes.” Y/N winced the tip of her heel wobbled for a moment in between the cobblestones. “Once you spell a shoe soft, they’re never the same again. They’re ruined. At least, that’s what my mother has always told me--she swears by that balm stuff I keep on my nightstand.”

“Ah, Mrs. Y/L/N. I’m glad she’s not here to see me. I think she would demand that I pay with my life for my outfit today.”

Y/N managed a smile. “Hey. You know she likes you. I think so, at least.”

They rounded the corner, and this time Ginny was kind enough to steady Y/N as they made their way up the final flight of stairs. “I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the whole night, Y/N. I bet you wish you’d taken up Nott’s offer to be your date this time, huh? Now that you don’t have anyone to lean on if your feet get too tired?”

“There’s something called taking my shoes off if they hurt too much,” she responded. “And I could never regret that--I know he only did it because his mother told him to. Something about a favor for my mother after we saved her at a gala, I’m sure.”

“Also the fact that Millie would crucify you if she saw you with him.”

Y/N laughed. “That too. Imagine being a Hufflepuff who accidentally put a target on her back…”

“You’d be dead.”

“But very, very stylish. And if I died, my feet wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

Ginny tutted at her. “So morbid.”

The staircase had finally turned to their stop, and before the two girls had a chance to get off, Y/N heard a voice call out for her companion.

“Ginny! Hey, Ginny!”

“Harry!” 

She pulled Y/N up the last few steps and deposited her safely on the corridor platform before bounding off towards Harry and Luna at the opposite end of the hall. They must’ve come from a different direction. “I’ll catch up with you at the party, ok?”

Y/N just beamed at her friend as she closed the difference between her and Harry, pulling both him and Luna around the corner towards the music and sound of the party. If it was anyone else, she might’ve been offended, but she knew how much Harry meant to her. Even if Ginny didn’t know it yet. And Y/N would not, under any circumstance, slow her friend down because of her poor footwear choices.

She dusted her dress off before making her way further down the hall. It was slower going without the prospect of a steadying hand next to her, but it was getting easier. Maybe the balm she’d used on the leather really was softening with each step she took like it said on the box. 

Before she lifted the curtain to walk into the jovial evening, a flash of blond hair caught her eye. Platinum blond hair--the type that only belonged to one person she knew. 

“Malfoy?” 

His head snapped up from its previous spot on his knees that were folded up on the floor. The Slytherin was obscured by the darkness and the dividing wall that had been erected in the corridor, but Y/N was completely sure of what she was seeing.

She crept closer, inwardly cringing at the sound her heels made as they clacked across the stones. 

“Need anything, Y/L/N?” he drawled. Once she was close enough to see his face clearly, his expression made it clear that he was not in a good mood. Not like he ever was, though. 

“Why are you...er...just sitting here?” Fuck. She sounded so ditzy.

“Enjoying my Friday night.”

“Oh...ok.” Y/N swallowed. “You were invited to Slughorn’s party?” 

He shrugged. 

Her mouth felt dry. Obviously, he hadn’t been invited. Slughorn was notorious for wanting to keep a squeaky clean image, and entertaining the idea of inviting a Death Eater’s son was...out of question. And he never tried in his class anymore.

She dared another look down at him and nearly squeaked when she saw him staring directly back at her. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve at least told him goodbye or goodnight, but her words completely failed her. Instead, she just stared back, completely frozen. 

She couldn’t help it. Ever since last fall, she couldn’t act normal around him to save her life. Not after...that. 

A cat meowed in the distance, breaking whatever was paralyzing her. 

“I...I have to go. I think that’s Filch.” 

He said nothing--just tilted his head and raised an eyebrow like he was expecting something from her. She spun and walked as quickly as she could manage without breaking an ankle.

“What took you so long, Y/N?” Ginny asked the moment the curtain fell behind her, closing her back into the party. The tent that was magically set up was much more spacious than she was expecting, and the lime and peach coloring was surprisingly bright and cheery.

“I...uh…”

Her explanation was cut short by the sound of the entrance curtain being shoved aside with so much force that the nearest tables shook, the fine china clattering. 

Filch stood in front of them, holding a very peeved looking Draco Malfoy by the scruff of his neck. “Found this boy loitering around outside. I don’t imagine that he’s been invited to your party here.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Professor Snape appeared to her left, his robes billowing black behind him as he made his way towards the pair.

“Ok, ok, I admit it, I wasn’t--”

“Draco! Where have you been?” 

The words were out of her mouth before she even had the chance to think of the heavy, heavy regret that weighed down at her the moment they were spoken--not to mention the foreign feeling of the name “Draco” instead of Malfoy on her tongue. The tension in the room was tangible as Y/N took a few tentative steps forward. Snape whipped around to glare at her with a look that contained so much venom that it nearly stunned her.

“Miss Y/L/N? What’s going on?” Her sweet Potions professor materialized behind her. Y/N felt a twinge in her gut at what she was about to say--if she followed through, he probably wouldn’t ever give her the scroll of recommendation she wanted. “Did you invite him?”

Oh well. Here goes.

She drew in a shaky breath. “Yes. He’s my...uh...date tonight.”

Ginny spun around and sent her a death glare that said oh you are so telling me about this right now. 

Filch released his grip on Malfoy’s neck, shoving him forward into the crowd. Y/N met his eyes for a brief second, and the only emotion she could register was shock. And anger.

“Fine. Dumbledore will be hearing about this, though. And tell your date to stop breaking curfew in restricted areas.” 

With that, the curtain fell back and Filch was gone, leaving Y/N in the throes of her own despair. Malfoy was just a few feet away from her now, standing in all his gloomy glory. And she’d just told everyone that he was her date.

The music started up again, the strings echoing around the still room. A few couples hesitantly started dancing again, and the roar of conversation slowly picked back up to where it left off. Y/N and Malfoy were the only ones not doing something...coupley. 

“So,” said Malfoy. The sigh that followed was completely unreasonable. “I think you’re supposed to tell me to stop breaking curfew in restricted areas sometime soon.”

She gulped. “Yeah. That.”

He held out his hand, slow and gingerly like he was about to touch a hot stove. Y/N just gawked at it.

“We should probably dance. Or something. I don’t think you’re being a very believable date right now.” 

Y/N grabbed his hand and let him pull her into the mess of couples. It felt like her mind had taken a complete vacation. What had happened? How had this night ended up this way? “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she started.

“Yeah, well, me neither.” He was practiced and comfortable as he guided her through the steps of whatever waltz was playing. Y/N never paid much attention when she was young to the dance lessons that her parents painstakingly put her through--and it was clear from how much she needed to depend on him. Her shoes didn’t help, 

“Ginny is going to fucking kill me,” she said suddenly. 

“You think?” he said, his tone flat. “Why’d you say I was your date? Were you that desperate for someone?”

“I…” The words died on her tongue as she tried to get them out. Malfoy spun her as she clung to the silk lapel of his suit, hanging on for dear life as her heels teetered. “You know why.” 

If he had any strong thoughts on the matter, he didn’t let it show on his face. He simply let his gaze flicker down at her for a second before he dipped her. “You know, in my world we don’t really return favors. If I were you, I would stop trying to repay me. There’s no point.”

“There doesn’t need to be one. I just…”

“Just worry about yourself, okay? I don’t need you to be stirring up your own drama with fruitless attempts to pay me back. I’m perfectly capable on my own.”

“I’m not doubting how capable you are! I’m just being a fair person!”

“Nothing about any of this is fair,” he snipped. “It doesn’t matter what you do. You’re not going to set anything right. You should know better, anyways. You shouldn’t be trying to help me. I’m surprised Potter isn’t teaching you this.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot while the song slowly creaked to the end. “Malfoy--” 

“I’m going to get us drinks.” He dropped her hand and was gone before another word could leave her lips.

It took Ginny no more than a minute to have her friend cornered in a quiet spot of the tent, her eyes glittering. “When were you going to tell me that you were going to ask Malfoy to be your date?”

“I didn’t,” Y/N told her. She decided that she might as well be truthful. “I just felt bad for him. Snape seemed like he was in a bad mood, and I don’t want to put him through that. I don’t want to put anyone through that.”

“Ugh, you are such a Hufflepuff,” her friend groaned. “I can’t believe you. You’re kind to a fault sometimes, you know.”

“What’s the harm, Gin?” asked Y/N. “He can’t hurt me. He’s not all that bad. He’s just a prat sometimes.”

“Can’t hurt you--oh, dear.” Ginny let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair, messing up the pinned portions. Y/N resisted the urge to cringe at the sight. “Hasn’t Harry told you? You need to stay away from Malfoy. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” increduled Y/N. “No way. He’s all bark, no bite. The worst thing he’s going to do is tell me that Hufflepuffs are stupid or something.”

“Y/N.” The intensity of Ginny’s voice made her snap to attention. “You really don’t know, do you? I can’t tell you now. But I’m sure Harry will later. Just...promise me you won’t let him get you alone? Ok? And please don’t do any other favors for him. You’ll understand later.”

They both turned at the sound of a male clearing his throat. Malfoy stood, uncomfortable and broody, carrying two goblets. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, not at all!” said Ginny, weirdly cheery. She leaned in, feigning to kiss Y/N’s cheek goodbye, but instead she whispered, “Don’t drink that.” And then she was gone.

“Trouble in paradise with Weaselette?” he asked.  

She took the goblet and faked taking a sip. “Er, no. Why do you ask?”

“You look awfully pale, my dear.” 

“It’s just the draft,” she told him, but in truth she knew that her face was suddenly flaming red again. 

“Hm.” He, on the contrary, took a real, genuine sip out of his goblet. “Want to sit down somewhere? I’m thinking I probably going to want to get out of here soon.”

“To each their own,” responded Y/N. She was slowly becoming warier after Ginny’s speech. There’s no way he would...no...not after what he did for her. “I’m staying around until I get Slughorn to talk to me, personally. I want him to really like me.”

“That old bat? I’m sure he already likes you, if he’s inviting you here and all.”

“I don’t think he likes me, per se. I think he just likes who my family rubs elbows with.”

A rare smile stretched across Malfoy’s face, but it didn’t seem sweet. “Ah, I remember your family now. If I recall correctly, your mother used to come do fittings for my mother?”

“Um, yeah. I believe so.” Y/N attempted to smile back, but something in her felt...off. What didn’t she know about Malfoy? Was he actually capable of hurting her? Did he want to hurt her?

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Malfoy said after a few beats of silence. “Unless you’d like to join my thrilling pursuits with breaking curfew in restricted areas, I’d better be off.”

“Malfoy…” Y/N started. She had no idea what else to tell him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, sending her another one of those sly smiles that made her stomach turn. “Enjoy the rest of your night, alright?”

She made a sorry attempt to smile back. He kept looking down at her, so intently that it made her uncomfortable. He was thinking--about what, she couldn’t determine. But clearly it was something, and the gears were turning.

“May I suggest something?” His eyes glinted in the dim party lighting. Malfoy seemed to take her silence and wide-eyed stare as a yes, leaning in closer so quickly that she didn’t even have a chance to spring away.

“You’re supposed to swallow when you fake drinking something.”

He plucked the goblet out of her hand and took a sip, raising an eyebrow at her as if to say see? 

Even long after he was gone, she could still feel his hot breath on her neck and hear the way his whispered voice sounded in her ear. 

final a/n: hehe here i am 1 minute late!! probably later once i get all my links set up/copy paste all my tags but here it is! this is a TEASER! so remember that! i hope to get the real oneshot out sometime after i get wonders of ohio p 10 out. let me know if this is something you guys want to read/if you like this version of draco. i rlly want to write a flirtier draco because i think we could all use that right now

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco #draco malfoy