#// 'otherwise he'd just be frightening to me'

[kalims]

⋆ too drunk to recognize your boyfriend

feat. third years of diasomnia

malleus

"I.. have a boyfriend,"

to an extent. the guarded, suspicious look on your face would have concerned malleus to no belief, to others. he wouldn't have bat an eye whatsoever, but it's you so the feeling crawls up his spine and clouds his heart. he can't help the slight nudge of offense clouding his face cause you definitely shouldn't have any reason to make such a face to his.

the more his arm reaches out towards you—to ground your swaying form perhaps, the more you seem to be inching away from him. which shouldn't make sense at all! "child of man?" he murmurs. dropping the attempt to console you, to which you squint at him. back pressed against the front door to his dorm.

"who are you?!" you point at him, and he blinks. mortification spreads in his head. you've.. accumulated amnesia?!

malleus' fingers clench around the fabric on his chest, just after he had retracted the outstretched limb in fear of frightening you even more. there's a certain stiffness to his hand that illicit a drop of sweat from his forehead. him? he's your mal?

if he had the nerve to cry, he would.

but of course, you remain a priority. you exhibit unnatural behavior. no one just forgets important details in a day! you especially, won't forget about him! and he won't let you, ever.

you sway. your eyes darting around, and squinting like you're struggling to focus on one subject of your attention, a factor that might affect it is the fact you keep looking around instead on settling on something, preferably him. and, malleus is torn between steadying you, or him.

he chooses you.

despite your half hearted protest that audibly makes him sulk more, he twists the door to the dorm open and ushers you inside. not too much of a struggle, if anything, you seem lighter, and he almost actually hauled you around with minimal effort.

"must be a good night," a voice purrs, malleus doesn't have to glance at the source to know that it's lilia. years spent with the man does wonder with familiarity. it took him a couple of decades to get used to him. strangely enough he feels like he's known you longer, despite not.

the statement makes the taller male frown. lilia though, keeps the tiny smile, now tickled with a hint of amusement as the rubies shift from your blubbering form to malleus' face. oh? he's upset now. lilia muses. it's easy to ascertain his boy's move, like a sixth sense.

so lilia decides to probe further. "no? your face tells me otherwise."

malleus huffs a little. one of the habits he never seemed to grow out of ever since he learned to keep his... more draconic traits at bay. "you are less than accurate with your assumption," his eye twitches, either torn between distressed or irritation. despite the conflicting behavior, he still manages to treat you with a gentle hand while leading you towards the couch.

"it is a very terrible day." malleus continues. sad enough to complain, but fond of you enough to take the hint from your apparent cautious behavior towards him. lilia almost laughs when he spies him gloomy, sitting on the far end, away from you.

the lightning strikes just as the clouds roll in. lilia peers behind the curtains, chuckling a little at the weather.

well! he just hadn't seen malleus moping around this much since, what? when that gold trinket wouldn't fit in his tower anymore? "why so, my dear?" lilia coos, positively charmed by the 'adorable' disposition.

of course, he already knows. he'd heard your exchange moments ago.

lilia retains the easy look. "the child of man has forgotten about me," malleus explains. looking more stressed by the second. "whoever has done this, will pay." from a sad, faraway look to rage suddenly. "I beg of you, please return them." then switches back...?

he has half the mind to pretend like you're never gonna return normal but decides against it.

"of course!" lilia chirps. "they'll be well by tomorrow."

and, malleus looks like he had been holding the world by his shoulders seconds ago, a sigh of relief.

the next day, you're not sure why malleus is introducing himself in concerning detail. do you really need to know what color his assigned blanket was when he was given birth to...?

lilia

if anything, he's really the one who enabled your behavior.

"just one more." , "oh my, need another?" , "you look like you need it, come on now, don't be shy, you only live once~"

concerned, silver steadied you as you wobble on your feet. babbling about some nonsense under your breath which only illicits the boy to cast a disapproving glance at lilia (who only wears an amused smile).

"seems like they had quite the night." a cheery comment from the latter, and silver makes no move to resist when he moved closer with silent steps, then pries you to his side inside with a gentleness that would prove that he isn't.. actually the reason for your state, but not really.

lilia cooed, like he'd coddled them before. silver thinks but it is so distinct from the way he used to coax them into bed. "time for bed."

you peel your eyes open, squinting with a crease between your brows. you tug at your arm, of which doesn't really budge but lilia decides to humor the struggle so he lets go and raises his brows. "I'm not a kid!" you say, then turn your head to the side—like a kid.

oh, so adorable. lilia croons, swooning inside his head for a bit. how he'd like to simply hold you for hours end...

the romantic monolog of his daydreams though, is interrupted by you once more. ironic since you were the one he was just day dreaming about.

"oh, my. is that so? how lucky of me." he chooses to say instead.

silver sweatdrops. glancing between your hazy... anger maybe? it's not really anger in all honesty, just bordering. then to the lax demeanor his father exhibited. a glance would find normality in it, but he hasn't seen him pick on someone so...

he doesn't know the word for it, perhaps insisting on bothering a singular person as much as he can?

you gasp, snapping your head to silver. cause apparently you recognize him, but seemed scandalized by lilia's presence. "silver! protect me!"

amused, lilia watches you scurry back behind the boy.

"there's nothing to protect you from..."

"there's a man!"

"I'm a man too..."

"there's a bad man!"

your head peeks out from silver's confused frame, lilia's head follows the action. tilting to the side as you eye him hilariously warily. hmmm.. so very cute. "I'm an innocent, only wishing to steal my beloved." he replies, with a usual lightness. though the usual relaxation you had around him is replaced with irritation.

"you can't steal me away, my boyfriend and his children will strangle you."

lilia shares a look with silver. where did they get the idea of... such violence?

silver shrugs. not a clue, he seems to reply back, committed to just remaining a bystander even if he's technically in the middle.

"is that so?"

you nod vehemently, a more open vulnerability clear on your face than before. you point to lilia (well, technically you don't actually know its him! or maybe you're just playing with him?) squinting, accusing at all with him at the end of your pointer finger. the male only raises his brow, and flashes you a cheeky smile.

lilia contemplates playing with you. as in, replying 'why don't you guess?' because knowing you, even in this state you'd probably tell him: "how would I know?" then proceed to guess anyway.

you would have a cute expression, perhaps. but he isn't so cruel to the point where he would waste time—time you could be using to rest instead, preferably get sober, remember him when you wake up, and return to your lovey dovey self.

alright. maybe not lovey dovey on some days but he would definitely prefer that than you using his son as a shield against him, like the boy could actually hold him back.

well, it is technically his fault... but lilia had all the intentions to care for you if you ever got too drunk, he'd hold you up if you were too unsteady, guide you away from possible fiends, and make sure you recovered well the following morning.

but, this definitely didn't enter his area of expectations.

"yup!" you cry. "he might be short, but he can kick butt." for someone who's heard many arrogant words, he's never seen one who says one thing—a threat in your case, then you proceeded to cower behind the nonchalant silver.

you nudge silver.

silver blinks. "um... that's correct."

you glance back at lilia. as if to say I told you!

"so... he will kick my... butt?" lilia hums, indulging in using the word. goodness, good thing sebek is not here. that boy definitely would've kicked you out for endorsing such foul language.

he feigns a look of horror, to his amusement you seem to brighten.

simply adorable...

long story short. you seem to believe you've truly scared him off when he disappears.

concerned even more, silver watches you welcome lilia back with a dreamy sigh. like... you actually recognize him as your lilia, and not the guy you were just... threatening to bite the curb.

this is absurd... I should just rest... silver sighs.

lilia only beams at the showering affection.

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

/

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

/

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

[literallythegrabber]

Hcs about how would you think they would react at a Haunted house ? Thank you for reading 👍

sorry this took so long, I was procrastinating again, and my teachers love when I don't sleep to do their unnecessarily large portions of work!😁 Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Finney

He's a scaredy cat

He doesn't want to admit it because he wants to look cool, but it's obvious.

He's shuddering the whole time yall are there. You tell him if he's scared, yall can leave, and he just like

"Y/n, don't worry, I'm just cold" he says while looking around anxiously.

"Finney, it's 70 degrees out, there's no way ur cold."

He's in a complete state of paranoia, and nothing can shake him out of it.

Yall remember that scene, when he was watching that scary movie while Gwen was at Susie's house?

And he got so freaked out, even though the blood looked like tomato sauce.

He's like that but 10 times worst.

You could lightly, like a feather) tap him on the shoulder, and he'll turn into Hoppy Hopscotch and flinch away from you.

Won't let go of your hand the entire time, he uses you to stay grounded (sane).

Would probably go with you and Gwen or Robin because he wants them to protect you cause he knows he can't.

Robin

Is probably a little bit freaked out, but he channels it differently.

Like... with his fist.

He's squared up the entire time your there.

He's a bit jumpy, so try not to touch him unprovoked.

Like you just tap him on the shoulder, and he freaks out and hits you square in the face.

"I told you not to sneak up on me! Dumbass..."

"Dude I said I was sorry."

Will probably fight the actors, and get you both kicked out.

Like, I honestly wouldn't go with him, sir you're staying home today.

He kinda ruins the experience, he has you behind him at all times, so you literally can't see shit.

Your parent/parents would ask you "Was it scary y/n?"

Ur like "Well I wouldn't know, you should ask Robin 😒"

While he's walking you home, he's thinking to himself about how cool he must've looked in front of you, protecting you and stuff.

and ur like, "Robin, I had no fun. You ruined the ENTIRE thing."

"😧"

Safe to say yall are going to the arcade for your next date.

Bruce

Probably the best to go with tbh.

Is just there to have fun, that's it.

I don't think he gets that scared, like he'll jump a little and then that's it.

If he does get scared, he'll probably just start complimenting the actor while ur just standing there like "😐"

Yall are just skipping down a dark, creepy hallway holding hands and you get jumpscared.

Ur over here about to pass out and he's just like "nice hat".

Like hello?

He just doesn't get that scared.

But he'll want to reassure you if you're the type to get scared easily.

Will try and sneak his baseball bat in the house (idk how he'll pull that off lmao) if it makes you feel better.

And this isn't really important, but I feel like he'd be the dumbest in horror movies.

Since he doesn't get frightened easily, he'd most likely be the most naive and say, "Let's split up!😃".

(that's probably what got him kidnapped💀)

Vance

Have I mentioned how annoying he is?

People think I have some personal beef with his character, but I swear I don't.

I just headcanon him as a bitch lmao.

But at a haunted house I think he'd be fearless.

He'd just be unbothered the entire time.

He'd probably complain about going. You guys spend most of your dates at grabngo (lame ass date vance) playing pinball.

So it makes sense that he'd rather be there.

His face the entire time would just be "😒", like turn that frown upside down?

He'd probably laugh when you get jumpscared.

But if you do get a little too frightened, he'd start cursing the actor out instead of just leaving.

Like the man is just trying to do his job.

So you guys would probably get kicked out, thanks Vance 😊.

But if yall don't, and you get scared, he'd place a reassuring hand on your wrist, to calm you down.

And that's about it, otherwise he's a jerk.

[enha-hype]

enhypen when you want to try the haunted house with them

genre : crack, humour, fluff if you squint

warnings : cursing and uhhh idk mentions of creepy stuff?

a/n : a little something for spooky season before i disappear for another month or two cuz uni is killing me🙏🏽

⁀➴ yang jungwon

cautious but definitely one of the braver ones. a tiny bit scared but not so much that he isn't able to enjoy the experience. he'd hold hands with you but would walk ahead so you won't get too frightened. would 100% laugh at one of the ghost-actors at some point, maybe when they get up close in his face to try and scare him but he just finds it funny and bursts out laughing Imao. i feel like the whole haunted house experience would be the most fun with him cuz there's a perfect mix of fear/thrill and excitement so you'd both be scream-giggling a lot and teasing each other.

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[other members under the cut!]

⁀➴ lee heeseung

unbothered king #1. the ghosts are highkey ashamed of themselves - how and why is he not even batting an eye at most of the jumpscares? worse still, why is he straight up judging them like sir they're just tryna do their job 😭 he initially walks a few steps ahead of you to give you a heads-up on the jumpscares and everything but when the ghosts behind you start using the opportunity to try and scare you he comes to your defence. holds you close protectively by the waist and you love it so much that even if you're not all that scared you'll pretend to be.

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⁀➴ park jongseong

scaredy cat but he tries so hard to pretend he's not which makes it so funny if you manage to notice - cuz he's pretty good at pretending. mans has a reputation to maintain; he is not losing face in front of you. will make you walk before him - chivalry/courtesy be damned - and he'll claim it's so that he can watch your back but of course that's not really the case. will yell random shit to distract you from the fact that he is in fact not as brave as he's portraying himself to be. will disguise his scared screams as angry ones - at one point two creepy clowns pop out simultaneously from different directions and he yells “one! at! a! time!! where are your manners?!” might use you as a shield at some point but will pass it off as him trying to protect you xD

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⁀➴ sim jaeyun

wbk all of 02z are scaredy cats Imao but jake's probably the worst of the lot. so of the two of you, you would definitely be the braver one. no matter how scared you may think you are, he's undoubtedly more scared than you and he doesn't even bother hiding it. would 100% let you go first and lead him if you offer to, otherwise he will just cling onto you the whole time (highkey adorable tbh). will fall multiple times and once even ends up dragging you along so you end up on top of him. you'd squeal and be a little flustered but he'd be too scared out of his wits to process it. will just lay there on the floor resigned for a few minutes like why do we have to do this.

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⁀➴ park sunghoon

again, another scaredy cat but a littleeee bit braver than jake. holds hands with you but squeezes so hard every time he gets startled that you're positive your hand is gonna be fractured by the end. definitely curses quite a bit. at one point you get accidentally separated and you make the mistake of sneaking up behind him to scare him and he ends up unintentionally punching you (not too hard, but still 😭💀). apologises profusely after and is so mortified but also is secretly glad that he now has an excuse to get out early under the guise of making sure you're okay (even though you insist you are).

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⁀➴ kim sunoo

screams A LOT (the dolphin ones) so R.I.P. to your ears. but he's also so polite to the ghosts Imao. sometimes you're so busy laughing at his reactions you don't notice the jumpscares: 1) compliments them on really good scares (“ohhh that was a really impressive one, i have to admit”) 2) whines/complains cutely when he gets too scared (“ah why are you doing this to us...”, “oh come on this is the third time you've done this!”). the actors almost feel bad but hey they gotta do what they gotta do 3) gloats when he correctly predicts something/someone will come out from somewhere (“ha! i totally saw that coming, you didn't get me this time!”)

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⁀➴ nishimura riki

unbothered king #2. laughs a lot and makes the actors question their career choices. it's fun with him too when he's not being a menace - he'll sometimes join the ghosts in trying to scare you bc hey this was your idea after all and also he loves the way you hide your face in his chest. if you're actually genuinely very scared then he'll stop, he's not that cruel. his replies to what the ghosts say are hilarious and almost makes them break character.

ghost 1 : this is MY house!

niki : damn bitch, you live like this?

guy covered in blood : LOOK WHAT SHE MADE ME DO!

niki : hey don't blame her, take responsibility for your actions!

[deadbydangit]

Yo! Could I get ghostface, Wesker, deathslinger, and maybe Trickster with an S/O who just seems to accidently sneak up on them without trying.

I absolutely can. I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you. Please enjoy.

With a Unintentionally Stealthy Reader

Mastermind, Deathslinger, Trickster

Mastermind

Wesker is hard to sneak up on.

Unintentional or intentional.

He has a very sharp reflexes.

It's a product of his time in the police force.

And as the head chairman for Umbrella.

Overall, he's highly focused and highly alert at all times.

Even when he's sleeping he seems on edge.

So it's rare that you'll actually catch him off guard.

But when you do his reaction is very tame.

Sometimes he'll jerk his head back slightly.

His eyes might get a little wide.

Maybe, you'll hear a tiny gas.

But that's it really.

"Dear Heart, are you trying to sneak up on me?"

He'll ask in a teasing voice.

"You can't catch me off guard that easily. You'll have to try harder dear."

If you mention you weren't trying to sneak up on him, he'll pause.

"I see."

"You'd make an excellent assassin, you know."

"If that's what you can do when you aren't trying, imagine what you can do when you are "

His head is always in his work.

But a compliment like that isn't given to just anyone.

The great Albert Wesker does not say such things lightly.

He does give praise like that to just anyone.

In short, he's impressed.

Deathslinger

When Caleb is working on his inventions, he gets heavily invested.

I mean heavily invested.

There could be an earthquake, and he wouldn't realize it unless blueprints or material is knocked over.

So you think scaring him would be easy.

But it really isn't.

Since Caleb is so invested, he'll hardly notice you leaning over him unless you physically grab him.

Which you might have to do.

He'll work for hours on end if he isn't stopped.

When you do have to get his attention, probably to make him eat after working so hard, it's best to gently tap his shoulder then move back.

And make sure you do so quickly.

When Caleb is frightened, he'll flail his arms around and turn around quickly.

He's not very vocal about it, he might gasp though.

But you have to be careful because he's got long arms, and he might accidentally hit you.

And he'd feel awful if that happened.

"Darlin', you can't do that. I'm an old man. My heart can't take that."

"Oh Honey, give a man some warning next time, okay?"

He's not mad at you.

But he is coming down from the shock, so he might be a little out of breath.

But no matter what, he'll always give you a tight hug after.

"Aww, don't worry Sweet Pea. I ain't mad at you."

Trickster

Ji-Woon is very hard to scare.

Not because he's particularly brave.

But because he has exquisite hearing.

Which is to be expected.

This is a man who can name any note that is sung just by listening to it.

He's highly trained in singing, and therefore, highly trained and listening to singing.

He hears everything.

Things most people wouldn't normally pay attention to.

The sound of breathing.

Little food steps.

Even jewelry as it will click when a person walks.

If you ever manage to startle him, it will probably be when he's putting on his makeup.

That is when he is the most focused without making a sound.

However, when he's doing his makeup, he's always in front of a mirror.

So he'll still be able to see you.

Now, on the off chance that you are able to startle him, he takes it with great humor.

He'll start laughing almost immediately.

"Oh Darling, I'm so glad you aren't a rabid fan. I would have to kill you otherwise."

Then he'll probably pay your head or something like that.

Like threatening to kill someone and laughing about it is totally normal.

Don't worry, he's joking.

He would never lay a hand on you.

[les-fleurrs-du-mal]

regulus black x original muggle character {enemies to lovers}

Regulus Black x original female character (muggle)

Inspired by WizardGod's 'dirty old town' on ao3 (and honestly, Pride and Prejudice)

This is an unfinished, ongoing fic! I update consistently every weekend and there are currently 29 chapters.

Read here on ao3 or wattpad (note: I have just recently posted to Wattpad and I'm slowly adding chapters. All current chapters are on ao3)

Summary:

Flora, the muggle half-sister of protective older brother Remus Lupin, is hidden away during the First Wizarding War for fear of werewolf attacks. It seems things cannot possibly get worse until Regulus Black, who has deviated from the fold of Death Eaters, also needs somewhere to hide.

Forced together by circumstance, their relationship is rocky from the start, but Flora won't be daunted by Regulus' arrogance and unpleasant airs. As they both slowly overcome their dislike of one another, mutual respect and understanding begin to grow, and their feelings start to shift from mere affection to something deeper and more profound.

"Touch me again and see what happens, you filthy muggle," he said. His voice was full of venomous, unbridled hatred, but he spoke in an even tone. It was too calm and for a moment it scared Flora.

But Flora straightened up, refusing to let herself be frightened by this boy. Because really that's all he was. Just a boy.

"Or what?" She challenged.

His surprise was obvious as she stood her ground. He blinked a few times, looking at her as he considered his next move. Flora was not very tall, or at least compared to Regulus she was not tall, as he completely towered over her; he stared fixedly at her face, enraged by the sheer audacity of this muggle girl.

"Go on," she prompted when he still didn't answer. "Or what? You don't even have a wand."

"I don't need a wand," he spat back. "I don't need it to deal with a little girl like you." He wanted to say something to terrify her, to make her back down and respect him as the superior, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he settled for glowering at her like a shadowy spectre. This still didn't appear to have the effect he'd hoped for. Flora clearly was not afraid, or was otherwise doing a very good job of hiding it.

[ineffably-human]

what's really smart about having this be Guillermo's arc, is it puts him up close with Vampire Angst things I don't believe he'd deal with otherwise.

because I don't agree Guillermo hasn't thought about the consequences, not with everything he's already given up and been through. he may eat crow about immortality later, when the shine of flying and cool fashion wears off, that's a problem for next century's Guillermo. but you can't tell me he's just now thinking about saying goodbye to family or becoming less human or any of that, because he's had fifteen years of living that already.

hell, he surprised me, he came right up to 'I can never see any of them again' on his own and accepted it on a dime. 'welp. that sucks. time to be Super Dramatic about it for the camera.' I think his feelings at the end of Local News are way magnified because he doesn't belong in the human world, but was just told the vampire one (and Nandor) has no use for him either.

and he has no real closure, he's saying goodbye over and over and over again because he has nowhere to leave to yet. the slow process is affording him a few more moments he can steal with people who at least openly love him (albeit imperfectly, on his part and theirs).

being a vampire would be something to celebrate if it happened the way he wanted it, with the sire and family he wanted. if he'd had a few days of hurt/comfort sick fic and then bounced out to live all his fantasies. but Guillermo isn't a vampire yet, hell he hasn't even eaten a guy. he's stuck in between worlds and unable to be present in either one. and Nandor's made it abundantly clear that Guillermo would be something to be destroyed, which would also destroy Nandor.

which means Guillermo is experiencing:

a body doing new, frightening things at unexpected times

becoming a stranger to the people you love

never knowing when you'll be found out as a Wrong Thing that needs to Die, which will make the people you care about suffer

all of which are extremely Vampire Things he wouldn't normally deal with. all of which is true for his human family, but for his vampire family hits fivefold. because that's the one he wasn't prepared for. Nandor was supposed to be who was waiting on the other side - not the price he paid for getting what he wanted.

"I have no country, I have no home, I have no people. I'm like a little lost duck, floating about in the middle of the ocean."

Guillermo's going to come out the other side of this with a new understanding of what vampires can go through. what Nandor, specifically, has been through.

but in the end, he's the one who knew the value of the vampires as a family first. remember 'these vampire pods never last long' just a few seasons ago? think of that vs Nandor rallying them all together this past episode.

in the end, when he does break through to the other side, I think Nandor will be waiting for him there. he'll surprise them both.

[fatuifvcker]

Eating out trans!Blade? Think he'd look cute with his trembling legs wrapped around my head.

I'm so 😳 about this request, you have no idea omg... I wrote this with a GN!Reader! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for the request!

Warnings: NS/FW, 18+ MINORS DNI, hair pulling, biting, mentions of top scars, pet names, slight mentions of free use at the end, mentions of Kafka at the end, not beta'd/proofread. Word Count: 1.5k A/N: I plan on doing a part 2, with trans!Kafka and trans!Blade! I'm excited!!

Blade is sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt across the room somewhere. You swallow hard, watching him as closely as possible. Your back is flush with the shut door. Your palms are against it, and you are positive your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

Blade smirks, he’s smug. “C’mere.” He motions for you to go to him. You falter, ever so slightly. Blade notices. “What’s wrong?”

“I- Uh-” You blink at him, “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Blade lets out a low laugh. “What was it you told Kafka earlier?” He’s smiling. He doesn’t seem… as frightening as he had earlier. Absolutely destroying you while sparring, he looked terrifying. Now? He looks just comfortable, even more so than he had while destroying you in the training room.

“I don’t recall.” You lie.

“Oh?” He cocks his head. “Don’t worry, I remember.” He smiles, a wicked grin. “You said ‘I want to kiss him. I want to fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid.’” He is still smiling, but he looks somewhat feral now.

You don’t move. “Well,” You start,asking the first thing coming to your mind, “does it make me look stupid?”

Blade laughs again, “More desperate than anything, dear.” He stands up and begins to stalk towards you. He corners you. “You can leave if you’d like,” his finger hovers over the button to open his door. “Or, you can stay-”

“I wanna stay!” You interrupt him. “Please-” You don’t mean to resort to begging so soon. “I want to stay.” You nod at him and smile.

Blade smirks. “Good.” He immediately kisses you. His hands cup your face and you are kissing back, excited and curious. Blade is always so controlled. You wonder if he is that way in the bedroom. His kisses tell you otherwise. His hands hold your hip like a lifeline, and his tongue is running across your bottom lip.

You eagerly open your mouth for him and his tongue darts into your mouth. You gently bite down on it and release it. Blade pulls away, looking like he’s about to lose his mind. You’re breathing heavily and looking at him with wide eyes when you have an idea. You light up and motion towards the bed, “Please, go sit down.”

Blade snorts, “So polite,” he turns his back to you and walks towards the bed. “Since you’re so kind, I will follow your directions.” He sits down. You walk towards him, thinking about every single thing you want to do to him. Blade slightly spreads his legs and you step between them. You are standing over him. He’s watching you closely. “Are you going to continue?”

“I’m thinking!” You huff at him. “May I?” You motion towards his lap. He nods. You sit down on his thigh and your hands go towards his abdomen. You place soft, sweet kisses onto his collarbone. Blade groans. Perfect, you think. He’s sensitive. Your fingers dance across his skin and you feel the goosebumps raise as you do so. You slide off of his thigh and drop down onto your knees in front of him.

You trail kisses down his stomach, fingers tracing the scars on his chest. Your fingers reach for the zipper on his pants and Blade is lifting his hips, eagerly letting you remove them. You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out a low moan. You smile against his skin before pulling away and getting his pants off of him.

You want nothing more than to dive in headfirst and help Blade feel good. But, you want him to feel loved as much as he feels good, so you wait. You begin to kiss his inner thigh, your hand moving towards his dripping pussy. One of your fingers slips in Blade grunts. His hands move from the sheets and to your hair. He easily tangles his fingers into your hair. You moan as he pulls slightly and your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” You mumble into his skin. “Do that again.”

Blade does not hesitate. His fingers pull gently at your hair. You continue kissing up his thigh and moaning as he pulls every so often. You reach his pussy and look up at him, smiling. “Already so wet for me,” You smirk.

Blade’s face is red, you are sure some of it is from the training, but you are certain he is blushing. His eyes don’t move from yours. Before you can move forward, Blade stops you, by holding your head back.

“What?” You whine.

“You have to look at me.” When your face contorts, Blade continues. “Don’t break eye contact with me.”

Your brow cocks, “And if I do?”

Blade’s smirk returns, “You’ll just have to find out.” You roll your eyes, earning a tighter grip from Blade. “How are you so sweet, yet so bratty?”

“What can I say?” You shrug, “I wanna fuck you so bad it makes me stupid.” You smile. Blade rolls his eyes this time. Blade shoves your head down and you grab his thighs. Finally, you lap at him, licking a stripe up his pussy. Your eyes are locked with Blade’s and you are smirking against him.

Your tongue swirls around his clit and Blade hums. His eyes are half lidded, but he is still watching you. Your tongue pushes into him, your nose hitting his clit and you grab his leg, pulling his thigh over your shoulder. His legs tense and he pulls at your hair. You don’t break eye contact.

Blade’s noises become louder. He is not begging though. His groans and grunts fill the air. His eyes almost shut.

“Holy fuck,” He moans through gritted teeth. “Just like that,” He praises you. “Don’t stop.”

You continue. His hands pull your hair, your head leaning back from him slightly. His hips buck forward, following you. Your eyes shut tight, a loud moan reverberating from your chest and your name falls from Blade’s lips.

“So close-” It’s almost a whine. “Do that again.” He almost sounds like he’s begging.

He pulls your hair and you moan into him again. Your tongue flicks his clit, and circles it. Blade breaks. Your eyes open and you peer up at him. His eyes meet yours and his brows are knitting together. His mouth forms an ‘o’ and you continue. His hips buck upwards, violently, causing you to tighten your grip on his thighs. You try to hold him down, but he is stronger than you. His hips roll into your mouth and you help him ride out hsi orgasm.

As soon as his hips fall back onto the bed you slow your pace. He’s panting and his fingers pull from your hair. You place soft kisses on his inner thigh and pull back from him. You look up at him and smile.

Blade mumbles something about your eyes and you furrow your brows. “Huh?”

“You shut your eyes.” Blade sits up slightly, holding himself up with his forearms. “You were supposed to look at me.”

“Oh.” You grow defensive. “You pulled my hair and it felt good-” Blade watches you as you struggle to find an excuse. You groan, “Okay, fine, what’s gonna happen now?” You ask, still on your knees.

“Well, you have been exceptionally good,” He smiles at you.

“I can be even better,” You bite the inside of your lip. “I can be so much better. I mean, you can use me however you want.” You are begging again. Blade’s smile widens at that. “Sit on my face, fuck me, have me fuck you-”

“However I want?” He interrupts you. You nod, eyes lighting up. “Hm,” He softly hums. “How do you feel about someone joining us?”

You cock your head, it doesn’t click. Not immediately. “Who?”

His face drops. “You are lucky you are so giving.” He groans.

It clicks. “Kafka?” You question him. “Because I think I can handle that.”

Blade nods, “You think?” You respond with an enthusiastic ‘yep’ and Blade’s eyes almost darken. “How about we find out?”

Your heart jumps into your throat when you realize he’s being serious. Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. “Really?” As soon as Blade gives you a ‘yes’ you feel excited all over again. “When?”

“So enthusiastic, hm?” He sits up and kisses you. “I hate we didn’t do this sooner. I don’t think I’m going to be able to let you go now.”

“I don’t think I’m going to have a problem with that.” You smile and press your lips to his again. “Do you wanna text Kafka?” You ask.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not necessarily. I’m sure she’d be more… Curious if you messaged her anyway.”

You nod and stand up, pulling your phone from your pocket. You quickly send Kafka a message, asking her to meet you at Blade’s room. And now, you wait. You look back at Blade, and want nothing more than to stay between his legs. You bite your lip and he catches you staring.

“You don’t have to stand there.” He leans back. “You can come back. Since you said however I want, I want you to come back.”

You eagerly rush back to Blade, and fall to your knees, resuming your earlier position. You are sure you are going to be busy the rest of the day. You don’t care. You prefer it that way.

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! I hope you are doing well<333 I really enjoy reading your writing and I am always more fond of reading the little octatrio fish gang! I dont really know how this usually works because I never send in any asks at all nor do I see your rules list or anything but if you dont mind I would like to make a request<3

A mc who finds an out of tune and old piano and fondly remembers that they used to play piano back in their world. And perhaps Azul hears in on this and despite the piano being old and out of tune, it is rather beautiful how you play it because of how imperfect the notes are being played out. (SORRY I WAS LISTENING TO FALLEN DOWN AND THE FEELINGS WERE JUST SURGING AND THE BRAINROT WAS TOO MUCH)

You dont have to force yourself or anything! Please take care and dont feel too pressured! <3

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu)

Hello dear friend and I am doing quite well thank you! I'm pleased you like my writing; the octotrio is what finally cracked my resolve to check out Twisted Wonderland and put FGO on the back burner so I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much for writing about them so much. I am sorry I caused you stress with my lack of rules, I don't usually send requests or asks myself, so I felt really bad to have frightened you. Not too sure if this will end up being what you had in mind, it got away from me a bit.

Also when you say Fallen Down, you do mean the Undertale soundtrack piece right? It's a soothing song I listened to it while I was plotting this to try and get into a similar headspace.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, header taken from the painting Spirit by George Roux (1885) which I found on this wordpres blog article I took the title from, it's a neat painting, Azul learning to find beauty and love in imperfections is important to me ok? Other works can be found on my masterlist here.

Sometimes you wonder if Ramshakle is sentient. The old building has more rooms than you know what to do with, and lovely as the ghosts are they don't fully remember what they were used for, if they remembered in the first place. But still there was something about those rooms that seemed to love you; he guest room almost built itself up around you, the kitchen had only needed some basic repairs before it was ready to help play host again, and no matter where a fire place was found it was always eager to burst to life and warm you and Grim.

It does not have the same love for Azul, he'd complained as much when you talked about just what it was he wanted with the building after the events of his overblot had cooled between you.

"It's got a graveyard in front of it, though?" That really had been the crux of your whole argument. It was hard to be annoyed with his laugh when it sounded so nice, the genuine amusement a refreshing difference to his previous performitive indifference.

"Yes," he muses, sipping at his real before he continues, "I'm not bothered by that much, ghosts and grave ships aren't uncommon sights under the sea, but I always forget how unusual humans think they are."

"There's a lot of superstitions about places where people are buried." You mean it as an explanation, but it brings an odd look to Azul's face, like there's an emotion bubbling beneath his surface he doesn't want to acknowledge but is too strong to suppress. It settles over you both, as you try to focus on drinking your tea while your host seems content to let his grow cold.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that ruin isn't really sentient." He sounds almost bitter, disappointed in how long he has let his drink cool you decide as he reaches for the pot and warms it with some fresh tea. "Otherwise, I'd accuse it of trying to keep you."

It's a silly thought, but the sight of this latest discovery really does have you wondering. You are supposed to be in that wonderfully accommodating kitchen making snacks for when Azul decides to "coincidentally drop by" later this evening to "go over the Lounge's expenses" in your guest room. On a Tuesday. When it was almost guaranteed business would be slow enough to keep anyone from wondering too hard about where he'd gone or the twins from being too upset about running things. But instead of "just wanting to try" a new recipe, you are here, tucked in a room just a bit further down the hall from the guest room watching Grim give his best impression of Ace after completing a magic trick. Because stars know he has never seen any other magicians.

"TA-DA!" He puts both of his paws out to really sell the piano at the window. "See, I told you I had a great surprise!"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." You say and try not to laugh with just how much more proud that seems to make him. "But where did you find this? Or how I guess, unless you moved it?"

"Nah." He shakes his head before remembering he's supposed to be the "great" Grim. "I mean I could have! But I'm just so cool I managed to find a piano here already, so all I had to do was clean it up instead! You're welcome henchuman." You scratch just behind his ears and politely ignore his purrs as you examine the piano and its bench. They're old, likely just as ancient as everything else in the dormitory and likely extremely, achingly out of tune. But the mere sight of it makes your fingers itch, and Grim barely has to whine "Well ain't you gonna play somethin'?" Before you're at the bench, experimentally pressing the keys to try and sound out something.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are-

You hum it rather than sing, irrationally worried Grim will somehow figure out it's a lullaby and complain that you're babying him instead of cutely dancing along with the music like it's one of the cassettes Deuce let you borrow. He cheers for another, and you oblige, letting your muscle memory carry you as far as it can as you try searching your brain for just what it was you wanted most to hear from yourself after all this time being unable to play.

And missing the click of a heavy door down the hall in the effort.

Azul hears nothing at first, and though it does disappoint, it does not bother him. He's had a long day, one about to be made longer still by the grey zone already draping itself around his thoughts as he shrugs his blazer off to his shoulders while en route to the Ramshackle guest room. He pauses, for what he tells himself is only going to be second, at the kitchen door and is left unrewarded for his detour.

You aren't there: and that does bother him somewhat, even if it should not if his pretext is to be believed. These visits were too commonplace to be random, but maybe you'd made plans, deciding not to look past his excuses for the evening. Maybe you were asleep, tired of the day or just plain tired of him. But there is a kettle sat on it's base, mercifully not on just yet, but two mugs and the pour over cone set next to as if it was expecting company. The nerves remain knotted in his stomach, though the cause shifts towards something more welcome.

So you do have a mug purposefully set aside and designated just for him, and is that a little recpie card with notes on coffee taped to that tin? These things should worry him, the picture he snaps and immediately hides in a folder should be for a purpose. But it's separate from those ones, labeled something inane and barely full with how careful he is to have his longing remain unseen. He wonders, briefly if it would be an intrusion to make the drinks himself. If it would reveal to much to show outright he knows the way you take yours instead of just saying it in time with your order, but knows that would not be the exact issue here. He is a guest, and guests limit themselves to the halls and that room he forces himself, with haste that would be noticeable if you were there to see it, back down the hall and back towards the guest room. Azul has work to do, he can content himself with the warmth the mental image the cups on the counter produces until something forces him to pause at a door once more. The piano is old, droning out a tune that is unpolished and rusty from the player's lack of practice but filled with such a specific sort of joy it has him actually running towards it.

You sit at the bench, a serious look of determination on your face so unlike the usual Yuu it can't help but be cute. Grim sleeps contentedly on your lap as you continue searching for the threads of melody still trapped inside your head from years of only occasionally reluctant practice. It's an unfamiliar tune in composition, but not in feel. There's words to this song, maybe not in the form of lyrics, but there all the same for him to stumble even closer to as he comes to a halting stop just behind you and the music ends in a surprised crash as you whip your head around to see him.

"Azul!"

"Very sorry to interrupt." He holds up both hands in surrender, composure only just maintained as you check to see Grim still asleep and laugh nervously. "I didn't know you could play."

"Can't really." You say somewhat bitterly and more confidence comes to Azul as a slight plan froms in his mind. "I'm really out of practice ugh. I know it shouldn't annoy me! But with how everything's been since I showed up, it's just not been on my mi- Oh hello?"

Azul fully removes his jacket and sets it on a side table close to where he had been satanding, moving to sit on the bench next to you. He has enough mercy not to loosen his tie or do anything else scandalous, but the close examination he gives to the keys could have fooled you. "Pity it's so out of tune, this is a nice piano."

"I know right! I'm really happy Grim found it." You resist the urge to poke his cheeks some and Azul lightly, trying not to too openly relish in your surprise reaches one arm around your back to place his hands into a similar position as you had been earlier, tucking you close to his side.

"May I?" He's smug. Too smug it's robbing you of sanity.

"What's it going to cost?" You try too hard not to sound like you're flailing as you look to see your question hasn't even phased him at all.

"Oh normally I wouldn't dream of charging for a performance," he clearly lies "but it's been such a long day I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." And he's off, music only marred by the off key of the piano in a clearly purposeful display of talent meant to sear itself into your mind enough that you don't think about his request too long. You and he are from two different worlds, but he knows that music has a way of gapping that if the stories of the mermaid princess told him anything at all. So when he purposefully slows the song at its end, he knows you know, that tricky smile he swore once he'd always hate kicking his heartbeat up again as you lean fully against his shoulder.

"Beautiful." You say, not bothering to give the compliment direction as he can't help but agree. "We should play together next time."

"I-" You pick yourself up and what he wants to say slows when you pick up his jacket for him and hold out a hand. Later, he all to easily decides. Later, without Grim and with specific time set purposefully aside so you know just how much it matters. "I would like that. You'll have to show me the songs that you can remember from your world." And he takes your hand just to soothe some of the ache, trying and failing not to show just how happy he is when you keep it.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Hot take, but I think Gortash has immense self hatred and actively choses to be miserable.

It would be easy just to go back home. His parents love him now. He has the money to fix everything. He controls them. There's no way they can harm him anymore. And yet he doesn't. He stays away, in his fortress, in his Iron Throne. In scarcely decorated places that lack most comfort.

It would be easy to use his money to look spotless, splendid, to blend in with society and be just like the others, just how his parents always wanted him to be. But he doesn't. Instead, he continues to be eccentric. And worst of all, he wears all the symbolism of the hell he's just escaped. The tormentor of his childhood is everywhere.

It would've been easy to discard everything and run away with Durge. He got them to defy their father to a frightening degree. If he had tried, he could've convinced them. It would've saved himself, Durge, both of them if he did. And yet he pushed forward, even knowing what he did and what end would eventually wait for him.

Gortash apparently knew the brain was changing. But he decided to do and say nothing about it. I love me some unhinged Orin but I'd argue she'd be reasonable enough to postpone her bloodkin lobotomy plans if she caught wind of an elder brain changing into a netherbrain thanks to said bloodkin doing funny stuff. They could've prevented this whole story if my guy had simply said something. But he decided to just, not?

He's deeply contradictory. He's a genius, but his mistakes and faults in his plans are evident to even the greatest fools. He's determined to be loved, to be a hero, and yet when he's offered love, or heroism he turns away from it.

Also did I mention that he's the one person who can legitimately turn on his patron but refuses to? Ketheric can't because otherwise Isobel is forsaken. Durge and Orin can't because Bhaal can just barge in and control them like the puppets they are, but Bane? He doesn't have a hold like this over Gortash. Gortash doesn't even seem to fear him as much as he'd like. And yet that man refuses to turn his back on a deity who will torture his soul for fuck all reasons without really receiving smth in return. He just keeps going knowing he can't win.

Oh and the whole 'putting Bhaals handcrafted scion on a leash' bit? Normal people would stay a safe distance away from people that can and will gut them for minor reasons, but he decided to understand that as a challenge?

I'd argue he's just an arrogant maniac, but the utter disregard of his safety kinda goes against that. Being a tyrant is cool but you can only properly tyrant if you're alive, and Gorty over here is making 0 efforts to improve his life or keep it for that matter.

[trilobitepunch]

月食 - Gesshoku - Lunar Eclipse - Part I

"San…? Sannan, you still with me?"

Sannan blinked, pulling his thoughts into the present. He'd been drifting again. That buzz in the back of his mind had been growing, refusing to be ignored. It made it harder to think, harder to concentrate. 

He suppressed a grimace, turning his head towards his brother beside him. The space between them had shrunk in these past few hours, and although Jinan did an admirable job at keeping it from showing on his face, Sannan was sure he'd heard a little anxiousness creep into his voice just then.

"I'm here, Jin," he reassured, slowing his steps to match his brother's pace. The other had started out ahead of him, but as the sinking sun began to bathe the world in warmer, rosy hues, Jinan had started to lag behind.

They should have been home by now. They really should have been home a couple of days before, but it had seemed like ever since they'd set out to return from what should have otherwise been a routine mission, they'd been hindered left and right by obstacles. Random encounters with hostile yōkai, a rockslide that had completely taken out the mountain path and forced them to pick their way through the forests. Part of him had suspected that it couldn't all have been by chance, and as the day crept towards night, Sannan felt less and less at ease about the situation.

Tonight, the moon would vanish.

~~~

His nerves seemed to spark with every little stimulus; the snap of a twig underfoot or a branch in passing, an errant leaf brushing past his arm, a bird calling in the distance. Jinan had pulled his hood over his head, walking so closely to his brother that every other step brought him into a near collision. But he was fine with this, because it just confirmed that Sannan was still there with him, and for his part, Sannan didn't complain.

Anxiously peering past the edge of his hood, Jinan eyed the ever darkening skies from what he could see at the fringes of the treeline. They'd been hugging the mountainside ever since their path had been diverted into the woods, looking for the next opportunity to return to higher ground. Jinan suspected that there wasn't any, and the detour was not making their situation any better.

We won't make it, he shivered, pulse quickening at the thought. We won't make it we won't make it, it'll be night soon and we won't be anywhere near home…

He almost jumped when Sannan's hand closed over his wrist. His brother hadn't looked at him, but Jinan was well aware that his brother's senses somehow tended to sharpen even more during times like these. It was…frightening, in a way, but it was also a comfort, because Jinan knew that Sannan would never leave him alone.

Sannan had said less and less as they'd progressed. While that in itself was nothing new, the silence around him was completely different, a silence of expectation, that tense quiet in which one seemed to be waiting for something to happen. He perked at every sound, head cocking at noises even Jinan hadn't perceived, which hadn't helped to soothe his rapidly fraying nerves. Behind him his tail remained in constant motion, a slow, deliberate sway like a fish navigating waters.

"...we'll need to shelter."

It had been long enough that Sannan's voice sounded a little hoarse once he'd spoken up, and Jinan caught a glimpse of his brother's face and the brief flicker of worry with it. The thought of them sheltering out here was unreasonably terrifying to him, and this time when Jinan did step closer to his twin, he didn't try to avoid contact, drawing what comfort he could from it. Under normal circumstances Sannan would shove him away, but here he brought his free arm up and around his brother's shell, hand resting on Jinan's shoulder. The contact had broken whatever spell of distraction had been plaguing him these last couple of miles, Sannan finally looking at Jinan. He wasn't completely gone, not yet. 

"Just one night," he said, and Jin knew that Sannan was trying to convince himself just as much. Not entirely convinced himself, he could only nod back. This was basic survival. They knew how to do this. They just…never had to do so when they were going to inevitably be compromised.

Sannan gave his brother's shoulder a faint squeeze, saying nothing more, but there was something in his expression, attempted reassurance, maybe. Jinan swallowed, reaching a clawed hand up to clasp over his brother's. This was ridiculous. He was the older one, he should be the one who was comforting and protecting, not the other way around. But he'd felt the brief tremble of his brother's hand. How easy it was to forget that he wasn't the only one who was terrified of what was to come. After all, he wasn't the only one who would lose a vital part of himself, and right now, they were all they had for support.

"...do you think tōsan's looking for us..?" Jinan asked quietly as they started to walk again, trying his best to keep an eye out for any promising space that they could use as Sannan did the same.

"Undoubtedly," Sannan replied.

Next >>

[tokoyamisstuff]

Punchline pt. 1/3 - Buggy / Reader

Ch. 1 : Setup

Synopsis: Buggy is devastated that his s/o can't remember him.

Warnings: Slight Angst, Mentions of Blood and Injury, Some Cussing, Reader is so oblivious it physically hurts to watch

Tags: F!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Not Proofread

Disclaimer: Guys I'm not rly into the lore of OP but I got a bad case of brainrot for the LA characters.

Sincerely sorry in case anything seems a lil' OOC or AU!

"Get. Out."

Buggy's voice may appear calm on the outside, yet it was low and laced with an unspoken threat. His words directed to the crew medic that was currently standing in the doorframe of the captains lair, not daring to move an inch.

And yet he wouldn't leave, instead gulping nervously as Buggy's icy glare kept him rooted on spot. To get a glimpse of the unconscious body in the back of the cabin, he dared breaking eye contact and peeking over his captain's shoulder - much to the displeasure of the latter.

"B-But boss" the man managed to wring out, stuttering in negative anticipation of the consequences. "You haven't let anyone close to her since the...incident. I-I really need to re-examine her wounds-"

"Do not make me repeat myself!" the clown sharpy cut off his subordinate, absentmindedly moving the daggers in his hands to soothe his nerves. "You better be grateful that you're of use to me." No, her, he corrected himself mentally, "Otherwise you'd be dead meat already. Now get lost."

As soon as the heavy wooden door shut, Buggy sent one of his daggers to pierce the place his crewmate had just occupated. How ironic he thought - a few years prior someone daring to talk back to him would've gotten pierced with no hesitation.

It was no news that Buggy had gotten softer ever since you stumbled into his life, and he still didn't know if it was for better or worse.

Anyways, his crewmates started to notice the subtle changes in their once feared - and loathed - captain.

Not that it mattered right now. As long as your life was still on the line, he couldn't care less about his reputation.

The man let out a deep, aggravated sigh before turning on that damn uncomfortable stool to face you again. Godfuckingdamnit, he never realized what a drunk he had become until he actually had to stay sober for your sake.

It had been three weeks already, and still no sign of recovery. You were still unconscious - no wonder, with injuries that heavy it was a miracle that you were even alive. And all this time Buggy refused to leave your side even for one second, watching you like a feral guard dog.

Not even his most loyal men had seen him this devastated before.

Right now you were staining the sheets of Buggy's bed with your own blood, having soaked through the bandages again. Nothing your lover couldn't fix though - he'd be damned if he weren't able to take proper care of you himself!

After all, he had once promised to give you the world.

And even when you humbly declined this great announcement of his back then, Buggy had already long since decided that you deserved nothing less.

In fact - though he would never openly say it aloud - you might be the only thing he held higher than himself.

Those kinds of sentiments were new to him and certainly didn't come easy either, but underneath it all he cared so deeply for you that it frightened him sometimes...

...exactly because of moments like those that leave him all helpless.

The very same man that sacrificed even his own men if it meant he could get away unharmed now wished to take this pain on your stead. Hell, even all of his riches he would gladly cast away if it meant seeing you smile again.

Instead he was left only being able to watch you suffer, maybe crack a joke or two in hope you might in fact hear him somehow.

"Now wake up, would you...this ain't funny" he muttered under a shaky breath, his hand lingering on your cheek for a bit longer after having placed a wet cloth on your forehead.

Maybe the sobriety made him clear-headed for a change, or it was the simple fact that you were alone, and therefore he could drop his usual facade.

Whatever it was, it urged him to speak from the heart.

"Shit, Y/N, I almost lost you there..." The man buried his face in his hands, voice cracking as he remembered how bravely you shielded him with your own body, saving him from a possibly lethal attack. "That shit could've cost you your life! And for what? Saving someone like me?! Quit joking!"

Well, truth be spoken, from his point of view this whole relationship was ridiculous from the very start - a joke without punchline, some might say.

Nonetheless, even though he had yet to understand how he of all people ended up so lucky, he wouldn't change it for the world.

For a moment he was contemplating whether to lie down next to you - and honestly, the temptation to cradle you in his arms was far too great to put into words - yet he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt somewhat undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you, after all.

"Of course he could lie down next to you - and in all honesty the temptation to cradle you in his arms was more like a need to him - but he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you.

"You just wait, I'll become even flashier for your sake!" he promised with a determination, almost like newfound purpose. "Something like this won't happen again, promise!"

Squeezing your hands ever so slightly, he placed a kiss on your knuckles before wrapping the blanket to cover you completely. "I may be an egoistical, worthless scumbag but I'd do anything for you! Just get well, that's all I ask."

It was already way past midnight, and Buggy was still sitting on the chair next to your bedside, his face buried in the mattress as he collapsed due to exhaustion...

...yet he jolted up as soon as he felt you move.

Your face was contorting in pain as you stirred on the bed, basically your whole body aching - and the hammering sensation in your forehead was the worst of it all.

"Heya, Honey!" A way too enthusiastic voice exclaimed, "Was about time you woke up."

Due to your ears still ringing you could barely understand, all you gathered from the sound was that you were not alone in this almost completely dark room.

Panic began to rise in your chest because when the pain finally ebbed away, it made room for you to realize the complete void in your mind.

Where- no, who are you?!

Almost violently casting away the sheet you were tangled in, you frantically scanned your brain for some kind of hint, any memory at all, no matter how trivial...

...yet were left with noting but a vast emptiness.

"Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey!" That apparently male voice again, cutting your pondering out just before you hyperventillated yourself into collapsing. "You're having a panic attack or something?"

"Shh" the unfamiliar voice started to hush you - his tone mixed with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher - yet very obviously overchallenged with soothing someone. "It's alright, don't overdo it. You just woke up."

That person gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders, guiding you back to lie down again. You were too weak to struggle against that foreign touch either way...

...but there was also such a great and genuine concern present in his tone, that this stranger did seem to miraculously calm you down to some extent.

No matter who this man was, it seemed that he was really worried for your wellbeing.

From what you could assess already, at least it seemed like you were in a safe place, and with someone who nurses your injured self back to health at that...

...however, ultimatively that false impression of safety would quickly disappear as soon as you opened your eyes.

Blinking heavily so your sight would adapt to the almost nonexistent light source of the room, the blurred outline of a person would finally become more detailed - and what you then saw made your blood run cold.

His usual trademark grin appeared as a menacing gnarl to you, unknowingly making your fear even worse as he suddenly watched your face becoming drained of any colour.

"What the fuck-!" you screeched at this sight of a literal horror clown, reaching out to get you like straight out of a nightmare. Immediately shuffling away from him, you fell over the edge of the bed just to be caught into his very arms again.

"Dear, are you alri-"

"Leave me alone!" you then screamed, lashing out at the man while starting to sob uncontrollably.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Buggy would now snap back at you - admittedly not the best way to deal with the situation.

You yelled and cursed and cried as the man struggled to keep you trapped in his embrace, in a naive hope that you'd calm down and then maybe talk about whatever in the world had gotten into you - but to no avail as it seemed, since with every second passing you only got more hysterical.

"I'm starting to get angry, dollface" the killer clown chuckled darkly, a little out of breath at least, since you could still put up quite a fight. "Don't make me use my powers on you!"

Damn, sometimes he forgot that even while appearing all frail and innocent, you could pack a proper punch- and he got a harsh reminder of it as soon as your fist hit the bottom of his chin.

"Heh, feisty little thing. Now that's my girl!" He laughed, relieved to see you being so lively again - yet his insane, dark chuckle had the exact opposite effect he was hoping for. He wiped the blood from his bottom lip, the red liquid mixing with the make-up around his mouth. "Well, I warned ya."

If you thought to be at your lowest before, you surely didn't anticipate the man in front of you to just casually detach both his hands as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"M-Monster!" you shrieked as the gloved hands started flying to your direction, pausing for a sheer second as the word that fell from your lip made his chest narrow.

"Don't to-ouch me, you freak!" Ouch. That one hurt more than he cared to admit, so he covered it up by acting all confident and amused. "Takes one to know one, love."

Still, Buggy refused to believe that he or his presence might be responsible for this mess. He might've done a ton of mistakes in his life, but he was proud to call you one of the - if not the best - things he ever did right!

You must've hit your head really badly to act like this.

"It's only for your own good, sweetheart." Why the hell was that asshole calling you those names? To degrade you? To show you he doesn't take you serious?

No use in brooding about something so trivial as the most apparent threat were his hands. They were way too fast anyways, so you unsucessfully warded them off. Your wrists got pinned behind your back, tugging on you to lie on the bare floor, incapable to move.

"If you keep moving so recklessly your wounds will reopen, dear." You furrowed your brows together in confusion, eyeing the figure approaching you varily. "Look, I'll explain everything okay? Just calm down and let me help you. Stop making it harder than it has to be."

Never.

Trying to make any sense out of this situation left you with the only logical explanation: This...person right there was a pirate who - for whatever reason - had kidnapped and abused you to this point.

No matter how you ended up here, you needed to flee and get help, the sooner the better!

With every firm step of his towards you your alarm bells rang louder and louder, but your body was still weak and you had a disadvantage in both power and knowledge of your surroundings.

So you saved up your last ounce of strenght for one last, desperate attack.

"C'mon" he now said with a way more tender voice, and admittedly it was almost alluring in it's sound, weirdly enough pulling on your heartstrings. "Let's get you back to bed, should we? I swear upon the little honor I have, I'd never hurt you."

Liar.

"Fuck you!" you then roared just when he had crouched down in front of you, the force of your kick having sent him a good distance away and into the next best wall.

It took everything to not faint right then and there, but no matter who you were before all this, it seemed like you were no ordinary human either. So you went even beyond those limits and forced your legs to keep going...

...but not without shooting one last, derogatory and disgusted look towards your tormentor.

Buggy reached out of the collapsed wall with a shaky hand, your attack having kicked all air out of his lungs. He mutely called your name in between coughs and almost-sobs, still worried and wanting to plead for you to stay...

...but then you silenced him with a sentence that will be carved into his heart forever:

"Better not chase me, you ugly freak."

Maybe this was the punchline to the cruel joke that was your relationship after all.

[Next Chapter]

[pedgito]

Can we please talk about eddie discovering that you *like* being teased?? specifically the kind of teasing that he does in bed (even though you also secretly love the gentle teasing he does out of bed too). i feel like once he put it together he'd 1) nearly short circuit and 2) be absolutely ruthless about it

author's note: anyone who says eddie is not vocal in bed is lying—lying, i tell you.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), lots of teasing, oral (f recieving), pretty self-explanatory y'all.

word count: 2k

It starts during a rousing game of D&D, another tumultuous campaign that has everyone at each other’s throat. You, especially. The anger permeates, builds, until you’re practically leaping across the table to rip Gareth a new one for rolling a three when you need ten. Eddie’s never enjoyed being the DM more, happy to not be on the receiving end of that venomous, rage filled argument that quickly died down after Eddie’s persuasion.

You apologized after, Gareth didn’t seem bothered. You still called him a dipshit for spellcasting protection when he could’ve attacked. He agrees.

Eddie watches it from a distance, recalls the tense line of your jaw, the way your finger came out stiff and sharp as it pointed in Gareth’s direction. It was a very constrained amount of emotion, but it made Eddie smile nonetheless—among other things.

He hides it behind his fist, eyes flicking between the two of you during that time. The relationship that has blossomed between you two was new, fresh—and Eddie couldn’t help but enjoy the small things he was finding out about you, including your passion for the game.

It was something you shared—well, that and the unconstrained outbursts. You’re pretty contained otherwise, but Eddie hadn’t improved much. Still, he can’t help but find it slightly attractive when Gareth takes a jab at Eddie’s story building as a weak defense, and you make him apologize immediately.

Either way, it’s quickly resolved. Plus, you promised him pizza next week for the meeting and that sealed the deal—and intrigued the several other hungry boys watching in waiting to see if you decided to finally go for his jugular. 

Eddie approaches after everyone had left, his jacket slung over his arm as he catches the furrow in your brow, taut with frustration as you shoved your things away in your bag. He reaches a thumb out and soothes the worry, your eyes flicking up toward his face. He pulls back quickly, though the smile is nothing that resembles being frightened.

He laughs instead, “That really shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.”

And it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say—but somehow, it doesn’t surprise you. If anything, it makes you smile too, though quickly snuffed out by your stubbornness to remain annoyed. 

Eddie taps a finger at your chin once, twice, sucking the air sharply between his gritted teeth as he examines you. 

“It’s really working for me,” Eddie teases further, “I should piss you off more.”

You scoff lightly, turning your face away as you reach for your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

You enjoy the teasing, but it’s not something you’re privy to letting Eddie in on just yet, so you throw back a quip that leaves him speechless.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle it, Eddie.”

You’re right and Eddie doesn’t even try to argue.

And the teasing is more subtle some days.

He notices you squirm a little more when you wear shorts or dresses, bearing your skin on the days where the air is thick and hot—or god forbid, the cooling system at the school breaks for the uptenth time. Eddie never misses a chance to touch you, his touch always matching your temperature—never too hot, never too cold. 

But, it always sends a jolt of excitement through you. You startle almost every time it happens, catching Eddie’s curious eyes. In the beginning he assumed you didn’t like it, only letting his touch linger for a few moments before pulling away. Soon though, he realizes that’s not the case.

And Eddie loves to tease, so he feeds into it.

On the days where he’s particularly unruly, he’ll scoot you into his lap on the low brick wall outside of the school, several yards away from buildings so he can smoke in peace—it’s not completely abandoned, a few of the other outcast kids lingering for rides or hanging out with friends. 

Eddie loves hanging on you in public too, so the touches come easy—but he knows to keep it appropriate, for the most part. It doesn’t stop his words from reaching a point of absolute filth, a hand slipped around your waist and resting between the space of your thighs where they’re pressed together. 

“You wanna hit?” He asks gently, letting your back fall against his chest, rocking with you slightly as he widens his legs to accommodate you. It doesn’t help though, your ass rubbing against him in a way that has him choking on nothing but smoke. He masks it lousy, but you save him the embarrassment of addressing it. But unlike you, Eddie shows no mercy.

“I forgot,” He quips, head tilted down to look at you while his fingers raise to hold the joint above you, “can’t focus on anything when I’m touching you. Isn’t that right?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head despite the small jump you respond with when he squeezes at the flesh, the bite of his rings digging into the opposite thigh from how tightly your legs are pressed together.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Nothing.” You shake your head slightly, picking at the worn black nail polish on your thumb, anything to distract your trailing thoughts.

Eddie grins evilly, chin pressing against your shoulder as he leans to look at you, though your gaze never meets. You’re staring at his shoes now, the broken pavement, anything to distract from his wandering hand, squeezing more frequently to get a reaction out of you.

“Is it the touching?” Eddie asks softly.

You shake your head slightly.

“No—you like it?” Eddie asks curiously. You nod.

“Is it—the public thing?” Eddie wonders, “I can tone it down if it bothers you, babe. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No—no, it’s not that.” You reassure him.

Eddie tries to think, back to all of the times when you’re face scrunches in annoyance or amusement, when your face will heat up or you’ll avoid his gaze after he says something particularly bold or surprising—how you shrink away when he whispers something to you in passing as he’s heading to class, no less depraved than anything else he tells you on a daily basis. 

It takes a minute, but eventually it clicks.

“Oh,” Eddie perks up, tapping away the ash and stubbing out the joint until the ember dies, fading to black, “you like it when I tease, don’t you?”

“I mean—“ You try to find a way to turn it around on him, make it not seem so obvious, but there’s no way out.

“Huh,” He huffs in quiet amusement, his hands shifting higher between your thighs, over the thick denim of your shorts but Eddie can feel the heat, the way your thighs squeeze around his hand and you make a small noise of protest, “yeah—lie again."

Eddie respects the rule of toning it down in public, though the effort is still there, just more restrained. 

It ramps things up elsewhere, unfortunately. Eddie know how easily it has you writhing underneath him, now so even more as he’s been relentless, picking on every sound you made, every subtle facial expression, until you couldn’t do anything but nod, stripping you down to nothing but a mumbling mess.

And if Eddie had known earlier that all it took was his words, things would’ve been a lot easier. He’s always been a charmer, though his physicality always took over for his mouth, not that you minded much, it was a large part of his personality.

But, there was something about his voice, his tone—he always had a smile on his face, an edge to him that screamed for you to run away. Boys like this were dangerous, always up to no good, and as sweet as Eddie was, you could see it in the way he hovered over you now. 

He chuckles lowly, a dark laugh that sends a jolt straight to your core, the hand not holding himself up squeezing at your waist, your thigh, those trailing touches that left you begging, practically whining for more. He mouths along your shoulder, wet open-mouthed kisses as he murmurs a snide remark.

“Words,” He counters your soft moans of protest, “can’t understand when all you’re doing is making noises.”

You glare meanly, his eyes flicking up briefly as he feels it. He smiles in turn, taking the opportunity to invade your space, grin showing his teeth, the slow glide of his tongue over the top row of them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He quickly apologizes, looking a little amused when he speaks now, “—guess I just leave you a little speechless, huh?”

And even you can’t help but laugh at that, pushing the falling hair away from his face, “Not even close.”

Eddie looks at you skeptically, “Then? Ask for it.”

You shake your head slightly, the words catching in your throat. 

Eddie shrugs, clicking his tongue in disapproval. He continues the slow, languid kisses over your skin, leaving you breathless as he hovers over your core, still covered by the thin material of your underwear, Eddie’s fingers pressed delicately around your ankles and he’s staring right at you—

“Look at that,” Eddie comments, noting the small wet patch in the lightly colored fabric, “I haven’t even touched you.”

“That’s a lie.” You argue, eyes connecting with the dark, purple mark in your stomach that Eddie had left as a reminder only moments before.

Eddie sees that fire then, the same glare he saw back during the Hellfire meeting—he knows you have the will to fight back, but he also knows your weakness too well. 

“Oh,” Eddie nods slowly, correcting himself, “So, just my mouth is enough to get you off, is that it?”

You shrug slightly, “M’not saying that.”

“I am,” Eddie says boldly, his finger slipping into the band of your underwear, yanking them down and away until he can settle between your legs, hands splayed against the inside of your thighs to keep you under his control, “—you’re okay with this, really?”

Eddie tries not to linger on the idea that this is new to both of you—you haven’t done much outside of kissing and touching below the waist. He’s mesmerized, feeling the want, the need, to dive straight in—but his mouth is speaking before his brain can process. 

“And she’s all for me,” He comments slyly, the chuckle he releases ghosting a hot breath over your cunt. You breath a sharp breath through your nose, your face heating up at his words, “isn’t she?”

You nod, but it isn’t enough. Eddie needs to hear it. 

“Look at me,” He urges, though his tone is still soft, “say it.”

You nod again out of habit, forcing yourself to let out a soft, “Yes.”

Eddie takes things slow after that, despite himself. You gasp sharply when his tongue runs over your hole, up the seam of your cunt until he catches your clit, and he knows, can feel the way your muscles go taut under his touch. 

“God, you want it bad, don’t you?” Eddie teases, “Always begging me to come but you’re too shy to say it now?”

And usually the teasing wasn’t as bad, which made it a little easier. There was always that comfortable silence, the soft sounds of your moans mixing together up until you both were asking, begging for that release and then it was over—but this, it’s so much worse. 

“I’m–I’m not–fuck,” Eddie’s fingers dig into the muscle of your thighs, sucking loudly, ludicrous and noisy and you can’t even be bothered to finish the sentence, rutting selfishly into his face, letting out a low and drawn out groan that has Eddie chuckling against you.

“Yeah–can’t lie to me when you’re already fuckin’ up my sheets, sweetheart.” Eddie jabs playfully, “was the teasing always the key?”

Yes. 

You laugh weakly, “Maybe.”

Eddie can see right through your lies.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[sounknownvoid]

Sam's "puppy dog eyes" are just him,hurt or ashamed - vulnerable?

We all know (&love) sammy's "puppy dog eyes" - & thanks to dean, we've been told of its amazing powers of persuasion and influence on people... I mean look at the evidence:

How could you possibly say no to this face?... I certainly couldn't ...but maybe that's the point - hear me out..

In "Scarecrow", Dean waxes lyrical about how his brother could give you this "look" and people would just "buy into" whatever it was he was saying at the time...

Elsewhere too, it's remarked upon, by Dean, about how no one can resist the power of the "puppy dog eyes" - thing that strikes me though is the language used - its almost framed like its a "manipulative tactic", something that Sam deliberately uses to his advantage somehow and is a weapon in his personal arsenal to disarm and influence people....ie "mere mortals" - the language is almost ominous and sinister...from dean.

Similarly when he talks about how sam is the one more easily able to coax whoever they're interviewing on cases to trust them, persuade them gently with his demeanour to divulge information that they'd perhaps otherwise not have shared...again framed almost like a "secret power" of Sam's....by Dean.

But then, watch the actual show and the actual times those 'puppy dog eyes' are shown by sam - he'd usually hurt or bewildered or ashamed and guilty and scared - yes, even soulless sam coz y'know he was still an actual person... if it IS a tactic it usually seems to be to try and get other person to stop hurting him or to show that he's hurting (the point of facial expressions) in hope the said person will stop - which BTW, note how he blanks in later seasons instead and stops showing his vulnerability any more?...

and whenever he's been able to convince people to share information and to trust them - it's been because he employed EMPATHY n understanding and cared about the situations these "normal" people found themselves in...ie he simply treated these folks as normal human beings caught in a bad situation and showed them some consideration,thoughtfulness amd kindness.....and that's all.

Contrast to whenever dean has been on his own (or when soulless with him instead) - he has a hard edge to him and gives off some pretty angst n downright scary vibes- not too mention, he's usually pretty suspicious or scoffing at the "civvies" in his demeanour - prolonged contact with sam has taught him to moderate himself/his approach but it's not his "natural" state with folks...

And that brings me to the point I'm trying to make on this post...

What if dean, struggling with his own "complex feelings" and being unable to ever deny sam anything coz of his own love n conditioning reads Sam's wounded look as a manipulation- a way to explain away his own "weakness" ( coz remember in john & dean's world vulnerability & love is a weakness is not what a "man" does) - ie "sammy made me do it with his bewitching eyes" instead of "I love my brother so much I can't deny him anything" is more palatable to dean.... and also, because his feelings frightened him and he's scared of the (perceived) hold sam has on him - he thinks sam MUST know of his effect on dean and MUST be using it on purpose....because conflict/threat&it's defusal & disarmament of said threat or weaponising their tools/themselves, is what they do.

And then, to further justify it to himself, he points to the interviews with civilians and how sam is able to persuade them too - so it's not just him, samm DOES have these "powers of persuasion"-bordering on ahem, the supernatural...but it's just sam being a decent human to these folks...

Just like everything else Sam's been blamed for or, something ominous being made of something he does or is - maybe those "famous" puppy-dog eyes of his are just sam looking actually, genuinely hurt,wounded,betrayed? - but it's so much easier to deflect and dismiss as a manipulative tactic so that no reparations or even acknowledgements need to be made and so no accountability required to be taken - which is after all, "dean special power"?....

it strikes me everytime, how much of our views of sam are molded and informed by dean's POV in the narrative of supernatural....

I'm beginning to wonder if we've ever actually seen sam as he was in the story at all - from an objective standpoint, let alone his own POV (which I'm sure would be far darker of himself and also inaccurate?)...

[beanghostprincess]

@landsailorsky Mentioned something about Sanuso going on a first date and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...

Sanji asks Usopp out on a date and it is the most awkward thing because they're in that state of the relationship where they know they like each other, but "does he like me enough to date me? Should I ask him? Should I shut up forever and jump into the sea and drown?". But Sanji asks anyway (nervous and trying to look cool and normal about it but failing miserably).

He says something about having dinner together on their own after the rest have gone to sleep or maybe walking around an island or even stargazing. Whatever his dear sniper wants. But Usopp is so confused. He says yes, of course he does, but that is what they already normally do. There is nothing romantic about it because they spend most of their time together alone. They stargaze. They buy groceries together. They have dinner together. They do night shifts together. And yet, when Sanji asks, it feels different and new and extremely scary. Frightening, even.

It's not in a bad way. He has never been happier and more excited. But he still feels like he's going to throw up and do something to mess up the date somehow. Sanji says he will take care of everything, but not being sure about what they're going to do is what makes Usopp so anxious. Sanji loves planning these things, though, so he's sure he will do just fine.

I think Usopp would calm down rather quickly, though, surprisingly? Because he probably tells Nami about it and Nami says something like "you guys do these things all the time. Going on a first date is pointless for you two because you could've just started dating months ago. But whatever. Sanji likes these things, right? Just do what you normally do and you will be fine". And even if Usopp acknowledges that it is not actually the same same thing, realizing that it's just Sanji the one they're talking about calms him down a bit.

But of course, Sanji is a mess. He has everything planned. Perfect date. Walk around the nearest island, spend the day together, make dinner for him, stargaze, kiss him. Perfect plan. And it does seem like everything is going to be perfect, even if there are minor inconveniences, so he is fine. He is not nervous. He is a lover-boy. Mr.Prince. A gentleman. He will be fine. It is just Usopp. But I think he'd be so worried about everything going perfectly,,,

So I think their date would be extremely sweet even if it's a complete mess. They would both be nervous. Usopp would have sweaty hands. Sanji, who normally knows what to say, has to think things through before speaking because otherwise, he will start stuttering. Usopp tries to be romantic and hold Sanji's hand but it sends Sanji into a state of "Sanji.exe stopped working" and he almost kills him. Probably they end up fighting some guys because of course they would. They try food somewhere around the island and Usopp loves it and it makes Sanji a bit self-conscious because he secretly wants Usopp to like his cooking more. Sanji treats women the way he always does and it sort of messes up the mood for Usopp for a while.

They're both so nervous and they don't know what to do and it does seem like the date has gone horribly wrong when they go back to the ship. But- But then they have dinner together. Usopp is feeling a bit down and thinks this thing between them isn't gonna work. But Sanji has to fix it somehow, and he can! There is still dinner left! And that is how he has always expressed his love. He convinces Usopp to have dinner with him ("it doesn't have to be part of the date. Just me and you like always. I can't let you go to bed without eating first, please") and Sanji finally lets go of that nervousness and burden when they start eating.

Usopp stops being so self-conscious when he stops focusing on the fact that it is a date. It doesn't have to be a date. They can just be... Themselves

Sanji prepares all kinds of food. All Usopp's favorite. Their hands brush, they sit impossibly closer, and they spend hours talking in the kitchen. Even washing the dishes feels romantic when they aren't thinking about it being romantic.

The date does end up with a kiss, by the way, while they are stargazing and Sanji is talking about something Usopp isn't listening to right now because he is too busy leaning in to close the space between them. And it is-- It is messy and awkward and they're both blushing and weird about it. But it is perfect for them because the night ends with them laughing their asses off about how pathetic and dumb they've been acting all day. They've been doing these things forever together. They have gone on dates before, then, so this isn't the first one. This doesn't have to be the first one. They can skip the early stages they've already crossed together and just... Be themselves.

[polaroidcats]

My Beloved Monster (a wolfstar ficlet)

Remus didn't remember his life before he got cursed. For all he knew he had been born in this castle and would most likely die in this castle because let's face it, who could ever love a monster like him? If you asked him, his chances to ever leave the castle were very slim. Saved by true love's first kiss.. yeah right.

He expected people to run away and leave him as soon as they discovered what he turned into when the moon stood high in the night sky. In fact, he'd seriously worry about anyone who didn't run away when they saw the monster that lay dormant while he pretended to be princess Remus Lupin, damsel in distress, just a normal human, every day.

He had his books and his plants and his fiery best friend Lily, who he had become rather close with over the years. At first, Remus had been annoyed by how protective Lily seemed of him, always fighting his battles and never letting him stand his own ground. But eventually he understood she only had his best interests at heart and was the most loyal friend any princess could wish for, so after several months of scorched eyebrows for Remus when Lily had lost her temper with him again, they set their differences aside and became friends.

Now he considered Lily his only best friend, and would do anything to protect her, just as she would always do anything to protect him and the cosy little life they had built together in their castle. It wasn't much, but they were content in each others company and Remus didn't see any reason why that should ever change.

They had a good system - some knight in shining armor would arrive to save Remus and Lily would make sure to only let through who she thought worthy of her best friend. So far that had led to every single knight returning to their kingdom unsuccessful, making up tales about the princess in the tower and the powerful dragon protecting her. None of them had ever even seen Remus, otherwise some might have been telling stories about a prince instead but in the end that's just semantics and none of that truly mattered when it came to it.

What mattered more to Remus was when one day all his protective measures failed and Lily got distracted by the knight's truly annoying and arrogant sidekick which resulted in a knight surprising Remus in his bedchamber just as he was about to take his 15th nap of the day (a true princess needs her beauty sleep, after all). He was lounging peacefully in his bed, about to fall asleep, when he heard steps and suddenly felt someone shake him less than gently.

"Wake up!!", the knight said and Remus looked at him, frightened.

"What?" he asked, and the knight replied, asking "Are you princess Remus?"

It is easy to assume that Remus had spent his entire life preparing himself for this moment, and that was partly true - there was a part of him that was a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a beautiful knight in shining armor coming to rescue him. That part was however routinely suppressed by the much, much louder part that told him he would never be worthy of anyone's love and would die as the monster he secretly was.

So when the moment came and the (only) most beautiful knight he had ever seen had made his way to Remus' bedchamber, all he managed to say was "I-I am. A-awaiting a knight uhm so bold as to uh rescue me? I guess?"

Not quite what Lily had made him rehearse but still so much better than how he had thought he would do, if he was being honest. At least what he had said was a grammatically correct sentence and made sense and he didn't just say the first thing that had come to his mind when he saw the prince, which had been "For fucks sake why are you so hot and I'm looking like a mess, lying here with my stuffed grindylow." or the second thing which had been "I'm so fucking gay". So all in all, Remus counted it as a win.

The knight smiled at him and said "Oh, that's nice. Now, let's go!" Go?? Go where??? Remus didn't want to go anywhere, not when he finally had a knight in his bedchamber!

"But wait, uh, sir knight? This uhm this be-eth our first meeting. Should it uhm not be a wonderful, romantic moment?" The knight replied with "Yeah, sorry dude, there's no time" while he was grabbing Remus' arm, and trying to get him to leave his bedchamber.

"Hey, wait. What are you doing? You know, you should sweep me off my feet, out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed!" Remus was growing angrier now, he hadn't been planning on ever getting rescued but this definitely wasn't how he would have imagined it to go, on the few occasions he had allowed himself to fantasize about it.

The knight seemed amused by it all. "You've had a lot of time to plan this, haven't you?" Remus didn't want to answer that, afraid of embarrassing himself, but he couldn't help it.

"We have to savor this moment! You could recite an epic poem for me. A ballad? A sonnet! A limerick? Or something!" The knight still didn't seem to understand the importance of this moment for Remus, as he tried to drag him down the castle stairs.

"I don't think so" he said over his shoulder. Remus was getting impatient now, who did this knight think he was? And where the hell was Lily, she was supposed to defend the tower against exactly this type of person, Remus couldn't ever imagine this knight being his true love and he almost didn't want to be rescued anymore.

"Can I at least know the name of my champion?" he asked, clearly annoyed by the whole situation.

"Uh, Shririus" said the knight.