#( THERE'S PROBABLY MORE I COULD SAY BUT THIS'LL DO FOR NOW )

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

Sorry for putting this one out so late, life got ahead of me today X__x I know i made a piece for PMATGA's overall bday, but I feel as if i should make a separate one for, arguably, the episode that literally changed my life, as corny as that sounds. So I did :o) Happy 10 years to the middleaged orb couple that changed mine and, in turn, many, many other peoples' lives. <3 (Feat mine and @cogsincorporated's respective designs for sunny and zac as well as the canon ones <3)

[h2llish]

Wait devil, have you seen those vids of people touching up their lipstick and a hand comes into frame to smudge it away and then the camera pans to that person and they just have their face filled with lipstick stained kisses?? Yeah imagine that but with Vil or Cater (or anyone else but I feel like the latter would actually record and post his version on magicam) May or may not be a request tehee

⁀➷ ˖ TREND MARKS

notes ─── i actually hadn't seen those videos until now when i searched it up! hope you enjoy :)

VIL SCHOENHEIT, CATER DIAMOND ─ a couple trend, and red wax ♡ fluff, gender neutral, lowercase intended, established relationship, not proofread

you actually hadn't been the one to bring it up ─ at least not with the intention to recreate the videos that were flooding your magicam. (mostly thanks to the videos cater would send you. why he was so obsessed with them as of late you weren't sure, but being as close to the heartslabyul junior as you were, you were on the receiving end of his spamming.)

you'd shown your boyfriend a few of the videos, usually as a way to fill in the silence during the nights you would sit with your boyfriend as he completed his nighttime skincare routine. you commented on the spam cater had subjected you to with this trend and how cute it was, but just as an off comment.

besides, you knew even if you wanted to, you couldn't possibly participate in such a trend.

vil schoenheit was a popular, might you even say famous, person, putting too much of your relationship out there was risky. while he was happy to tell some of the more trusted people in your lives about the relationship, he was scared to put you out into public view. seven knows what the public and press would do if they learned vil was dating someone.

it was like every night ─ stretching yourself out across your boyfriends sheets and scrolling boredly through magicam, sighing and hearting the videos you had finally seen too much off in your messages (thanks, cater.) vil sat at his vanity, occasionally glancing at you through the mirror ─ not that you noticed.

but when you heard vil call your name, you looked up, blinking at him as he approached you. you had come to memorize his routine and knew how long it took him, so you knew he couldn't be done yet. you set your phone down beside you to be forgotten, giving vil your full attention, "yes, my liege?"

vil hummed, and you noticed the color on his lips ─ a pretty red that you weren't used to seeing on him. "sit up." he ordered, although his voice was soft. you complied, pushing yourself up until you were almost similar height to the housewarden.

you sent your boyfriend a confused look as he grabbed your face. but then he started to explain, and you understood quite quickly what he was doing. "i won't record this, but i think this'll do."

he started with a kiss to your forehead, then your right cheek, then your left. you could feel the stain of the red on his lips everytime they met your skin (or maybe that was just you becoming hyperaware the more flustered you were) before he pulled away only to come back to kiss another part of your face.

you hadn't realize you had shut your eyes until you no longer felt vil's lips on you, to which you slowly blinked them open until you were looking at him again. he was smiling, or perhaps smirking was the better word, as his eyes trailed all over your face.

vil couldn't put your relationship out there, he wouldn't put that stress on you. he had fans who probably wouldn't be all too happy to know about a relationship (would you be harrassed? he didn't want that.) and the press, who would hound the two of you with sensitive questions the moment they learn who you are. he loved his job, but he's not sure you could handle the public eye like he could. ─ at least that was his only reason, until now, staring at you with the marks of red caused from his own kisses, he decided he'd try to keep your relationship out of the public eye as long as he could. whether it be covered in lipstick stains or laying on his bed waiting for him to finish his skincare, you were a sight for him to keep.

vil was interrupted from his throughts as he felt your thumb brush below his lip, wiping away the red that had rubbed off his lips. you smiled at him, and vil sighed, leaning down to press a final kiss to your lips before stepping back and releasing your face.

"i'll be done soon."

he learns you'd taken a picture of your face covered in his lipstick marks when he receives a picture from you the next day, with the message, i like the red.─ and well, perhaps he was deciding which colors would look good against your skin next time.

cater diamond liked to keep up with the latest trends ─ perhaps as a way to keep up the mask of his outgoing persona ─ and he liked to show you those latest trends. sometimes he'd add to those trends with a photo or video of his own. and sometimes he liked to ask you to make a video with him, although they weren't always trends for couples, he liked to include you.

there was a new trend on magicam that's recently caught cater's eye ─ and of course, being his partner, you were automatically the one he turned to when he decided he wanted to create a video as well.

he sent you some of the videos featuring the trend a few times, before outright asking you to make a video with him ─ you're not quite sure why he wanted to do this trend so bad. maybe because it was a couple trend, either way he was hooked on doing it with you, and you weren't one to deny your boyfriend.

when you agreed, you hadn't really expected to be on the receiving end of it ─ but when he pulled out a stick of lipstick and smiled brightly at you, you think you understood why he wanted to do it so bad. (you wouldn't call it sly of him, but cute. although you wished cater would let you give as much affection as he does to you.)

you didn't protest when cater sat on your lap, lips coated in red as he smiled at you. ─ he was so cute, you think, although you're sure he thought the same about you as he covered your face in kisses, the feel of the wax lingering every time he pulled away. you kept your eyes closed, hands resting softly on his waist as you waited for him to finish. (but you realized eventually how long it took just to leave a few lipstick marks on your skin. oh, cater really was so cute.)

when cater finally did pull away for good, lingering a final kiss on your nose as a finishing touch, he quickly grabbed his phone and the stick of lipstick set down on the bed beside you. he still sat in your lap, obviously with no intention of moving ─ fine by you.

he turned back to you, lipstick at the ready and the camera on magicam pulled up. "ready?" he asked, and you hummed, removing one of your hands from his waist and holding it up, just out of sight of his phone but ready to do just as you had watched many do on video.

he pressed record, raising the lipstick to coat his lips just as he done before, purposefully smudging it on the corner. that's when you raised your hand into view of the camera, using your thumb to wipe away the excess wax. that's when he turned his phone just enough to get your face into view, showing off the multitude of lipstick marks. it was your first time seeing yourself, seeing as he was quick to get into the video before you could get a glimpse at the picture you likely painted. ─ your face was covered in a rose-red, and the more you looked at it, the more you felt the color on your skin. you really couldn't help the smile from forming on your face, just before cater clicked stop.

he quickly replayed the video ─ although with how often he watched the videos of the trend, you're quite sure it was unnecessary ─ and when he deemed it good, turned to you, "can i post it now?"

you smiled, moving a strand of hair from his face, "of course, if you want to."

"you probably want to clean that off, i have makeup remover in my bathroom." he told you as he finished posting the video, looking up at you with a pretty smile, highlighted by the red still on his lips.

you nodded, eyeing the lipstick he'd set back on his bed while he was busy checking the video for errors. "before that," you grinned as you grabbed it, and held it up for cater to see, already bringing it to your own lips, "my turn."

i love cater, i really should write for him more

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[sillyandquest]

Y'all know the cardboard cutouts in Poppy Playtime?

I like to think that they're a small glimpse in those characters personalities, and what they would've been like if we'd been able to interact with them in-game. The cutouts also seem to indicate the sanity level of each Smiling Critter.

This'll be a long one, I'll see you at the end of you wanna read!

Spoilers:

Anyway, that means Bubba Bubbafant would've been outwardly friendly, yet still resentful of the player. He also might've been losing his sanity quickly, probably due to CatNap's gas.

"Hey! I remember you!.....An elephant always remembers!.......Want to know what I remember about you?........*Devolves into hysterical laughter/screams/glitches.*"

Had he been in the game as a Bigger Body experiment, I doubt he would go out of his way to help. He might've just hidden himself away like Kissy and Poppy, or fully lost it before he could try to help the player and got killed off.

Next is Kickin' Chicken. He's different in that he seems like he would've provided encouragement to the player, maybe even try and protect them.

"Wanna go outside and hang out?.... I've never been outside before.........Will you come with me? I'm scared.......Here, I'll step out first......*screams/glitches.*"

He also seems to have been killed off early, maybe he was even the first Critter to be killed. (He's embracing his inner Chica now-). I say this because, aside from DogDay, Kickin' Chicken seems the most sane in comparison to all the Critters.

CatNap's cut out doesn't have much other than breathing noises and snores that devolve into glitches.

Picky Piggy sounds sane, but I think she probably ate some of the other Critters. Probably Bubba Bubbafant, Kickin' Chicken, and Crafty Corn. If she could interact with the player, I think she'd be friendly at first before showing her true colors.

"Roast beef? Delicious!......Grilled chicken? Down the hatch!......Seared Elephant! Yum!......Flayed Unicorn? Mmmmm!.......Still hungry.....Hey, what do ya say you and I be friends?"

She definitely wouldn't have been helpful, and would've absolutely tried to eat the player.

I think Hoppy Hopscotch could've tried to help as a Bigger Body experiment, maybe a little pushy and impatient towards the player. Probably because she's desperate to escape.

"Wanna try hopping to the moon with me?.....On three with me!....1, 2, 3!...Heh, didn't get very far, did we?.....Listen, this won't stop until we make it to the moon!.....1, 2- No,no, don't look at your feet! None of that matters! Again! Again!.....Jump! JUUUU- *glitches out*"

She seemed to have a good heart and wanted to help but was likely taken out while escaping. I'd call her sane enough to be trusted, just desperate.

DogDay is certified best boy and definitely would've wanted to help you, even at the cost of his life/freedom. He knows this is a terrible place to be in and wants the player to leave as soon as possible.

"Go, go! As far as you can!......Why are you just standing there?.....You can't be here, you can't stay......*screams/glitches.*"

He knows he can't leave and encouraged the player go. He sounds sad when he speaks. Would likely be the last Critter to stick by the players side no matter what.

Crafty Corn up next! She seems very focused on painting and almost definitely killed someone because she was out of red.

"Pass me the blue please!.....Thanks! Now can you give me some red?.....Out? But we can't be out..... You're hiding more red from me......I know you are.....GIVE IT HERE *glitchy screams*

Yeah, I wouldn't really trust her. She'd be fine by herself or if the player gives her all the materials she asks for, but Crafty would've probably gotten agitated and attacked quickly.

Finally, Bobby Bearhug! She comes across as super loving, but also clingy and desperate for an escape. Sounding a little unhinged at times. If the player could've interacted with her, she might've clung to them, possibly even protected them if they convinced her that she could go with them.

"I love you to the moon and back!..... I'm crazy about you!.....I'm lost without you.....I've been lost a long time......Please, take me with you this time?.....You won't leave me, will you?!."

She sounds like she's lonely and craves companionship. Her cutout is actually the only one that doesn't end in glitches or screams so I think the player could've trusted her. She might've had a fragile mental state, but I don't think she would've tried to kill you.

Thanks for reading til the end! Stay safe!

[trueebeauty]

It's a regular afternoon at U.A., and you're in the training grounds with your boyfriend, the one and only Bakugo Katsuki. He's been working on a new move, all explosive power and razor-sharp precision. You, on the other hand, have been practicing your own quirk, pushing your limits.

Maybe you pushed a little too hard.

"Shit!" you hiss as your quirk backfires. A sharp pain lances up your arm, and you look down to see a nasty cut, blood welling up in crimson beads.

Bakugo's head snaps around at your curse. His crimson eyes widen a fraction - to anyone else, it would be imperceptible, but you know him well enough to see the flash of concern. "Oi!" he barks, stomping over. "The hell did you do?"

You wince, both at the pain and his volume. "Pushed too hard, I guess."

He scowls, but it's his worried scowl, not his angry one. Roughly gentle, he takes your arm, inspecting the cut. "Tch. Dumbass. You're supposed to go beyond your limits, not break yourself."

The cut stings, and honestly, you're feeling a bit shaken. Training accidents happen, but still...

"It's just a scratch," you say, trying for nonchalance.

Bakugo snorts. "That's not a fucking scratch, you idiot." But his touch is gentle as he takes your arm, inspecting the wound. "Recovery Girl's gonna have a field day with this."

You wince, not just from the pain but at the thought of another lecture on caution. Bakugo notices - of course he does, he notices everything about you - and his scowl deepens.

"C'mon," he grunts, tugging you up. "Let's get this cleaned up before you bleed all over the damn place."

“Recovery Girl's probably busy with the other extras. I've got a first aid kit in my room."

You nod, letting him lead you back to the dorms. His grip on your good hand is firm, grounding. This is Bakugo's way of comfort - not soft words, but solid presence.

In his room, he sits you on his bed and kneels in front of you. The first aid kit appears from a drawer, and he gets to work.

"Stay still," Bakugo grunts, rummaging through the kit. "And don't bleed on my sheets."

You snort. "Sorry, I'll try to control my involuntary bodily functions."

"Tch. Smartass." But there's a twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost a smile.

He pulls out an antiseptic wipe, tearing the packet open with his teeth. "This'll sting," he warns, his rough voice softening.

"I can handle it," you say bravely. But when the antiseptic touches your wound, you can't help but hiss. "Ow!"

"Crybaby," Bakugo mutters. But his movements slow, his touch becoming feather-light. "Thought you could handle it?"

"Shut up," you grumble, but there's no heat in it. You're too busy marveling at how gentle he's being.

His hands, so destructive in battle, are surprisingly deft as he cleans every inch of the cut. You watch him work, mesmerized by the contrast. These hands that can level buildings are now treating you like you're made of glass.

"What?" he asks, noticing your stare.

"Nothing," you murmur. "Just... you're good at this."

He shrugs, but you catch the pleased glint in his eyes. "Can't have my boyfriend bleeding out because they can't dress a damn wound."

"Your boyfriend, huh?" you tease. It's still new, this thing between you, and every time he acknowledges it, your heart skips.

Bakugo's cheeks dust pink. "Don't," he growls, but there's no bite. He's too focused on wrapping your arm in a clean bandage.

"Not too tight?" he asks, voice gruff but eyes soft.

You flex your fingers. "It's perfect. Thanks, Katsuki."

He nods, sitting back on his heels. His thumb brushes over the bandage, a touch so light you almost think you imagined it. But then he looks up at you, and the raw emotion in his crimson eyes steals your breath.

"Don't do that again," he says quietly. "Getting hurt. It's... it pisses me off."

You understand what he's not saying. In Bakugo-speak, 'it pisses me off' means 'it scares me'. You reach out with your good hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into it, just a fraction.

"I'll be more careful," you promise. "Can't have the great Katsuki Bakugo worrying about little old me, right?"

"Damn right," he mutters, but he's leaning in now, forehead resting against your knee. It's as close to vulnerable as Bakugo gets.

You card your fingers through his spiky hair, marveling at how soft it is. For a moment, the world shrinks to just this: you and Bakugo, his hands now resting gently on your thighs.

"Hey, Katsuki?" you whisper.

He grunts in response, not moving.

You hold out your newly bandaged arm. "Kiss it better?"

Bakugo freezes. He looks up at you, one ash-blond eyebrow arching high. "That's not my fucking quirk," he says, voice dry as the desert.

But you see it - the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks, the way his eyes soften just a fraction. You've got him on the ropes, and you both know it.

"Please?" you whine, pouting for extra effect. "It really hurts, Kacchan."

He glares at you, but there's no real heat in it. "You're such a damn baby," he mutters. But he's already lifting your arm, his calloused fingers achingly gentle.

Bakugo brings your arm to his lips. He presses a kiss to the bandage, feather-light. Then another, and another, trailing up your arm. His lips are warm, a bit chapped from his quirk. Each kiss feels like a tiny spark, but the good kind, the kind that lights you up inside.

"There," he grunts, cheeks now definitely red. "Happy now?"

You hum contentedly, but you're not done yet. Leaning in, you whisper, "You know... I think I've got a scar on my lips too."

Bakugo's eyes widen, then narrow. "You little shit," he breathes, "You planned this, didn't you?"

"No," you admit, grinning. "But I want it."

He knows you're playing him, but oh, does he want to be played. "You're pushing it," he growls, but he's already leaning in.

"You love it," you whisper against his lips.

He doesn't deny it. Instead, he kisses you, and it's nothing like the gentle pecks on your arm. This is pure Bakugo - fierce, passionate, a little bit explosive. His hand cradles your face, thumb brushing your cheek, while the other pulls you against him.

When you part, you're both breathless. Bakugo rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. "You're gonna be the death of me," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. Just a grudging acceptance that yes, he'd let you lead him anywhere.

You grin, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you too.”

He snorts, but his arms tighten around you. 

[iamanonymousr]

The no more pain kiss

Prompt: Reader giving a kiss on their wound so they'll no longer feel pain.

(A/n: gender neutral reader, my english is probably not englishing, fluffy relationships.

The reader isn't in a relationship with them but they both have a mutual crush between eachother.)

-

Haruka Sakura

"What are you doing?!" He immediately pulls his hand away. "What?" You innocently tilted your head. Like you didn't just kiss his bruised and grazed up knuckles.

Sakura's face felt hot, extremely flustered from what you had did earlier. "Wh-why'd you do something like that?!" You hum, amused at the flustered mess Sakura instantly became.

"Why not? You said you were in pain, weren't you?" You gently took his hand again, the dual haired boy didn't seem to notice. You placing the cotton soaked in alcohol on Sakura's bruised knuckles.

Your answer seemed to have made Sakura even more red though. "Huh?? That- That isn't something- like-!" The poor boy is a stuttering mess. In fact, it was more surprising that Sakura can still speak while being the blushing mess he currently is right now.

You couldn't help but laugh at him. "S-stop!" Sakura managed to grumble out. Though he couldn't help but stare at you while you laughed.

You eventually stopped, holding a victorious grin on your face. "Alright, I'm done." Sakura looks at his knuckles, which have been all bandaged up. "I should do it more often, you completely blocked out the pain you were feeling just by that single kiss." You teased with a huge ass smug smirk.

Sakura could feel his whole face getting hotter once again.

Akihiko Nirei

"Eh?" It was the only sound that could come out of Nirei. Before his face bursts into a thousand shades of red.

"What-" Nirei hisses out in pain when the cotton drenched in alcohol came into contact with the cut on his cheek. You look a bit saddened that your secret weapon has failed.

"And here I thought that would've worked.." You continue to dab the cotton on the blondes cut. "Let me process first!" Nirei shouts out before he lets out another loud hiss, while you just ignore his pain.

"All..." You set a small patch on Nirei's face. "Done!" You smiled, feeling proud of your work.

That wasn't the only thing on Nirei's face though. A shade of red was dusted on his face, it wasn't that red like earlier but could still be seen.

You decided to use it to tease the poor boy. "Do you want another one?" And he panics, trying to say deny it profusely.

Chuckling to yourself before walking up to the boy— who was still spouting out random words— and giving him a kiss on his other cheek.

You leave the room with a Nirei who has become a statue.

Hayato Suo

Suo blinks twice, earlier ago he was explaining how he just realized he got a paper cut. Suo decided to take the chance to tell you how much it hurt, when it really didn't.

Then you hummed before taking his hand and kissing the finger that had the paper cut. His heart skipped a beat. Suo didn't expect that, having to process it for a bit in his head.

When he finally did, he couldn't help but laugh due to his amusement at your action. Your confused reaction just made it so much better for him.

"What's so funny?" Suo's laugh eventually dies down. "Sorry, it's just I got a better outcome than what I had expected."

You stare at him with that same befuddled look. Like you wanted him to explain more on what he just said. But after a long deafening silence from the other. You had no choice but to give up, turning to and placing a bandage on his paper cut.

Suo smiles, leaning forward, his lips landing on your forehead. He could hear your surprise gasp before he leans away.

What a sight it is in front of him, truly a sight to behold.

-

a/n: very rushed ending on Suo's part, this was not proofread and this'll be the only part of this little scenario (unless I have the motivation to make another one).

(This has been collecting dust in my drafts)

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh since you want dark stuff how would yandere Alastor who falls for the reader , deal with love rivals 👀

You know he's planning something horrible.

Yandere! Alastor dealing with rivals

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic (Dubious on true intentions)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Violence, Blood, Murder, Threats, Mentioned torture, Forced companionship/relationship.

You can bet that Alastor doesn't want anyone touching what's his.

He is a demon who knows what he wants... and will get it no matter what it takes.

Honestly, he'd be bad if he didn't own your soul... and even worse if he did.

I mean... we've seen how scary he can get in the show, right?

For example, remember when he was protecting the Hotel?

Yeah....

Except... if he feels someone has wronged him by touching you... then he'll draw things out.

Trust me, Alastor will know if someone had gotten too close to you.

He can almost smell another demon's stink on you.

This concept will focus on general behavior with demons, although with bigger names his approach would be different.

For example, Vox.

The Overlord most likely wouldn't get close to you without Alastor knowing.

For this concept... maybe you have some friends who are lesser demons.

Another thing we've seen is how others act around Alastor.

Y'know... other demons run and hide or just straight up... well... die.

So imagine if you had friends who felt they could be close to you.

Honestly, Alastor tolerated it since they seemed brave enough to stand before him.

Or stupid... it depends.

If you were talking to your friend or a potential partner... Alastor would interrupt.

I think the exchange would be even scarier if he did own your soul.

He acts charismatic as usual.

He pulls you aside and against him, a permanent grin as he greets those around you.

He's oddly charming... even though he's irritated that he has to share what's his with them.

Perhaps to even prove a point he'll summon the chain around your neck.

If that doesn't show ownership... then they're dense.

He's possessive... ears flicking as he introduces himself.

They better know he's an Overlord.

Alastor can do basic intimidation like any other demon, but the fun part to him is more... violent.

Perhaps your "friends" aren't swayed by his presence.

Maybe they actually try to stand up for you.

Maybe they try to court you anyways?

Or maybe someone hurts you...?

Point is, if they haven't died yet, they will.

Alastor sees no issue in a bit of torture.

He's probably done far worse.

A quick death is merciful for those Alastor considers rivals.

However, if you had a lover or someone similarly close... Alastor likes to drag out their fate.

His own intentions with you are dubious at best.

Can't really call him a lover, can't really call him a friend...

Perhaps he's a master? Even then... you can never read him.

Alastor would love to tie a rival down and play with them a bit.

He'd get as bloody as he wants, he'd listen to their screams like it's the radio.

He can only laugh as they beg.

No one messes with the radio demon's things.

They should've cowered away like the rest.

Now they're dead at Alastor's claws, all while he whistles away and prepares to see you again.

When you don't see them again, you aren't dumb.

You have a feeling they've angered Alastor.

If you were close with this person or tried to use them to get away from Alastor... He'd make you listen to their screams.

Alastor enjoys dealing with rivals.

He thrives off their pain, this is the same demon who's kill Overlords after all.

Safe to say... you aren't getting away from Alastor.

No one's going to be able to help you...

Their screams are a warning to behave for Alastor... even if you hate it.

"Oh, Darling! You have new friends~ This'll be fun, won't it~?"

[etherealily]

🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳​ // ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?

Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It's not like Nate even knew you.

You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.

No biggie.

I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.

Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.

The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.

Because he thought about you.

He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.

He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.

So obviously, now he worried about you.

So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.

He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.

One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.

Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.

See? Perfectly reasonable.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.

Well, happy for him.

For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.

"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.

That was one thing he noticed about you.

You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.

"What?"

He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"

You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.

"Sir, I think you should leave."

God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.

"That's so hot. Say it again."

You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.

"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."

He swiveled his head around for a moment.

Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.

He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.

The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.

And what's worse?

She had coupons.

Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.

"Yes, dear, so just run all these."

"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."

Thank god.

"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."

Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.

"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."

"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.

"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"

If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.

"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"

"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."

"What a sweet boy."

Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.

"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."

Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.

"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."

"Do you actually have anything to buy?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.

Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.

You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.

"Is that all?"

"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"

"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."

"For eleven individual condoms?!"

You shrugged. "Inflation."

"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."

He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."

"You maxed your card?"

"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"

"Like you with your condoms?"

Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.

"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."

How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.

"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."

"Nate-"

"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"

If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.

"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."

"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."

That was a lie. He fucking loved it.

"Please, Nate. Stop."

"One condition."

There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.

"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."

"I'm listening."

God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.

"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"

"What?"

"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"

It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.

"Cops."

At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.

"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"

"Nate, did you kill someone?"

"No."

"Then why even ask?!"

"It's a hypothetical."

"No, probably not."

He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."

"Well, it's my answer."

He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."

"My answer? No."

"Please."

"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.

He smirked.

"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.

Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.

"Y/N."

"Who is this?"

"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"

"You need to be more specific."

"You better be kidding."

"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."

He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.

"Which one's your window?"

A pause. "What?"

"The one with red or yellow curtains?"

"Nate."

"Red or yellow, babe?"

"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.

"You sure it's not yellow?"

"That's my parents' room."

"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.

"I'm not messing around."

"Neither am I. Yellow it is."

"Nate!"

This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.

The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.

Like fucking Rapunzel.

He tapped on your window once.

No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.

He knocked once more.

He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.

"Hey."

"Dude, you-"

"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.

"You're insane."

Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?"

"I didn't see you at all before today!"

"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."

"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.

"What do you want?"

"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."

He almost punched you when you started laughing.

"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."

"I'm not kidding. Come on."

"No way in hell."

"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."

"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."

Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.

He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."

He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.

"Surprising, considering that's what I am."

"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.

"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"

The match was found. Time to light it.

"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."

It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.

"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."

"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.

You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.

The smell of your rage made him want to riot.

"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."

"Alright, fine."

Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"

"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."

"Tonight's different."

"Why?"

Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."

"So, you'll leave?"

"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."

"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."

"They'll smell it."

He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."

His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).

"Why do I let you do this?"

"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."

He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.

"I don't know about this."

"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."

"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.

"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.

"Gross."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.

But here you were.

Next to him.

Freaking him the hell out.

He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.

"I gotta go."

"You've been saying that for the past three hours."

Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."

"Why not?"

"They know I can handle myself."

"Right, because I'm such a threat."

"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."

"I'm not coming over, Nate."

The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."

"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."

"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."

"Only one way to find out.", he teased.

He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"This is my first time smoking weed."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."

"You didn't ask for a secret."

"Now I am. Tell me a secret."

"I hate football."

You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.

But he'd take what he got.

"Because of me?"

"No, just generally."

"But you came to games.", he countered.

"Because of Maddy."

"You guys are close?"

You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."

"So she told you." Shit.

You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"

Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.

"To come to the games."

"Oh. Yeah."

Nice save, Jacobs.

"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"

"I guess you do."

"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."

He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"

"It's true. They're perfect."

"God, I love weed."

You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.

"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."

He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"

"Be fought for? Why not?"

He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"

He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got another question for you."

Your frown was your response.

"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know, then."

"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."

"What do you want to hear, Nate?"

"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.

So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.

Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.

There we go.

His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.

"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.

His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."

Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?

"What?"

"I'm not... no."

"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.

"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."

God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.

He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.

Oceans away. Too fucking far.

"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."

"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"

No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."

"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.

"Being your good luck charm."

Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."

"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."

"But you will, right? Be there?"

"You scare me, Nate."

He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."

"You're violent."

Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.

"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."

"Hm?"

"You like getting beat up, too."

Remind him never to give you weed again.

"Why would I-"

"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.

Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.

"You think I deserve it?"

"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."

"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.

"Psychology."

"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."

You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.

"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.

"Hey."

"Not now, Nate."

"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."

God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.

"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.

"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."

You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."

He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."

Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.

"No way you cook."

"Only one way to find out."

He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."

The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."

"No steak."

Yes. Fucking yes.

[sen-ya]

part 4/7

the lil law bein held by luffy is v important to me

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] Panel 1: Law: ...

Panel 2: Law: ...Bepo knows. Luffy: Penguin and Shachi too I assume? Law: They better not. I swore Bepo to secrecy. He only knows cuz he's the one who figured it out. Luffy: Got it

Panel 3: Luffy: So you wanna start with the pros or cons? Law: Pfft, you know. Luffy: Okay. I don't think it would make you feel very good. Law: I'm already sick all the damn time. Luffy: You know what I mean Law [talking over Luffy]: I know what you mean.

Panel 4: Luffy: We sail on different ships Law: I don't know obstetrics Luffy: My family doesn't have a great dad track record Law: Most of my crew doesn't know that I'm trans, so I'd have to come out Law: We're pirates Luffy: You can't count that, there's already kids on my ship Law: Fine Law: We can't make our crews stay together just because we want to. Law: People might think my crew is under yours and that would not go well. Luffy: So if we wanted to stay together we'd probably have to leave for awhile like Usopp did. Law: What if she's got white lead disease?

Panel 5: Luffy: You already cured tha-- wait did you say she? Law: Oops. Luffy: Oops? Why oops? Law: Listen, I needed all of the available information. Luffy: Any more to share? Law: Um. It's been about 12 weeks. Luffy: Since what? Law: Okay nevermind I have no more information that will mean anything to you.

Panel 6: Luffy: ...Why does that make it different? Law: ...I don't know, but it happened to me too. Not that it means it's a girl. But assigning a pronoun...I think I've gone soft. Wouldn't have meant anything a decade ago.

[pg2] Panel 7: Luffy: Me too. I think this'll be easier if we just say 'it.' Law: You're right. But I tried. And even when I do, when I close my eyes I just see this kid that looks like you.

Panel 8: Luffy & Law: ...

Panel 9: Luffy: Fuck Law: I know Luffy: You can't just say shit like that. Law: I'm sorry.

Panel 10: Luffy: Well now we know it's an option. We could always plan for it later. Law: But it also could be a fluke. Honestly with all the shit I do to my body it's a wonder she made it so far without me knowing. Luffy: It's cuz she's mine.

Panel 11: Law: Fuck Luffy: That was supposed to be an inside thought Law: You don't have those. This is a terrible idea. Luffy: I agree Law: So we agree we shouldn't do this.

Panel 12: Law & Luffy: ...

[pg3] Panel 13: Luffy: Everyone expects us to be docked here for a week. So I don't think we have to decide right now.

Panel 14: Law: Yeah. Yeah good point. Law: And if I can just use the Sunny's library...I'm sure Kaya's got some books in there that would...offer perspective.

Panel 15: Luffy: And we can keep thinking of pros and cons!

Panel 16: Law: And at the end of the week we can both write down what we think we should do Law: and we can compare answers.

Panel 17: Luffy: It's a plan! Law: It's a plan.

[0blobthefish0]

Partygirl Part 2

leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist

Part 1

Leighton Murray x Female Reader 1769 words

a/n - finally, it is here! i literally had this all written out except for the last part before the 17th, but I am incapable of writing cute date scenes, so this'll have to do 😅

You stir awake and your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you screw your eyes shut. Throbbing pain was incessantly stabbing at your brain, there was no way you didn't have any nerves in there because all you wanted to do was take the damn thing out. What the fuck did you drink last night, the whole bar?

Letting out a defeated sigh, you slowly opened your eyes and brought a hand to your head in an attempt to soothe the ache. Wait..

You froze.

Where were you? You questioned as your eyes adjusted to the dark. God, did you actually follow through with a one night stand? You could now hear, and not to mention feel, the soft puffs of someone breathing. You chewed on your bottom lip, nervously, as you wracked your aching brain for a solution. You nearly choke on a gasp when you feel a pair of arms tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against the other person.

Your eyebrows furrow - boobs? What the hell happened last night? And you almost feel proud of yourself until, you realise that you're still fully clothed, and now you feel horrified; how did you half fail a one night stand?

God, this was so embarrassing.

But then, you smell something familiar, expensive, and you finally pull yourself together enough to take a peek at the mystery person.

You hear yourself squeak and a hand flies to cover your mouth and you can't tell if looking was a good idea because, somehow, your heart is beating faster than it already was. You feel her hand slip from your waist and you feel as if your soul has lifted itself outside of your body.

"Y/n," you hear her croak out, her voice thick with sleep.

You let a stretched-out moment pass before replying, "Yes?"

"You okay?" She whispers softly, and you move to lay on your back.

"Yeah, I just- I wasn't expecting to see you there," you explain and Leighton can hear the nervous smile in your voice.

"You were pretty drunk last night," she recalls and she sees you wince in response. "There's some aspirin outside, if you want."

"Ugh, yes please," you say quickly.

You're sat on the sofa when Leighton passes you a bottle of water and an aspirin before taking a seat next to you. You pop the pill into your mouth and take a swig of water, smiling softly to yourself when you find that the bottle was already open. Your pounding headache seemed to dissipate instantly, it may just be a placebo effect, but you were thankful for it nonetheless, and you turned to her with a relieved smile.

"Better?" She questioned and you nodded your head. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, just listening to the quiet through the darkness that no longer seemed so dark.

Leighton couldn't help but be thankful that the room was still dark, otherwise you most likely would have picked up on the pink tint that was dusting her cheeks. The image of you pulling her in close, your hands on her face, the way you looked at her with those drunken eyes and your voice when you called her pretty was all that she could think about. Goosebumps began to litter her arms as she shook herself out of her daze.

"I should probably get going," you announced quietly and Leighton turned to see you hugging your arms.

"You could always stay y'know? I'm sure your roommate wouldn't be too happy with you," Leighton inputted, "and you do live in the other building." You had to fight the hopeful feeling from growing as you turned to look at her; did she want you to stay? No, she was just being nice, anyone sane would offer the same.

"Really, you don't mind?" You smiled sheepishly.

"No, I wouldn't have offered if I did," she shrugged and got up from the sofa to stand in front of you. "But you need to wear something more comfortable first cause," you watched as Leighton eyed your outfit before lightly shaking her head and gave you her hand to help you up from the sofa.

Quietly, the two of you made your way back into the bedroom and you stood beside her as she rifled through her draw for something for you to wear.

"You can get changed in here, or step outside if you want," she whispered to you as she passed you a pair of neatly folded clothes. You nodded your head in reply, quickly spinning on your heel as soon as you saw Leighton reach for the waistband of her jeans. You took a moment to collect yourself and settle your nerves before swiftly slipping out of your dress and pulling on Leighton's shirt and shorts.

"Done?"

"Yeah," you whispered quietly and turned to see her slipping into the bed.

Leighton watched you as you moved closer to her; something about seeing you in her clothes was making her stomach erupt with butterflies, you looked cute. She didn't know why she did it, maybe it was the time of night, or maybe it was an unconscious decision, but she opened up her arms - inviting you in closer - and to her relief you accepted and crawled into her.

"I meant it, y'know?" You confessed and let out a slow yawn.

"Meant what?"

"Nothing, sorry, I'm just tired," you whispered sheepishly, your one second of courage quickly leaving you as soon as those words left your mouth. What you wanted to say, was that when you had drunkenly told her that she was pretty, you were being earnest. You felt Leighton nod her head above you and then the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep once again.

---

You saw Kimberly send you a small smile and you made your way to their table, food in hand.

"Speak of the devil," you hear Bela sigh out as you place your tray on the table and taking the empty seat next to Leighton.

"Why are we talking about me?" You questioned.

"Bela's in a mood-" Whitney began before being promptly interrupted.

"Why didn't you two fuck?" Bela nearly shouted accusingly.

"Woah-"

"Okay! No need to be so crass."

"Just because we both like girls, does not mean that we automatically want to jump each other's bones," you defended with a hushed voice, hyperaware of the people around you.

"Speak for yourself," Bela mumbled, upset, taking a not so discreet jab at Leighton.

"Hey," Leighton gaped, "you're the one that encouraged me!"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I'm just mad, my ship needs to sail; like you literally have all of the materials, get to building!" You shook your head at that with a slight laugh and soon enough the conversation drifted away from the two of you.

You took a forkful of your lunch before turning to Leighton, the movement catching her eye.

"How'd your quiz go?" You asked her.

"Uh- yeah! It was um," Leighton was struggling to hide her shock, she had only mentioned the quiz once, maybe twice, a week ago, "it went well," she nodded with a smile on her face.

She couldn't remember if you said anything after, too concentrated on the way that she was feeling and the way her face was heating up, so much so that she had to turn away and focus in on the conversation at the table.

---

The following week flew by quickly. You were resting on your bed, the relief of finally sitting the exam washing over you, when you felt your phone vibrate. You felt for it and at seeing the caller ID you squinted suspiciously.

"Leighton?"

"Hi."

"Are you.. okay?" You questioned with confusion; Leighton never calls you.

"Yeah, I- is your roommate there?"

"No, she wen-"

You stared, dumbfounded, at your dark screen. She hung up.

knock. knock. knock.

The fuck?

Almost cautiously, you get out of bed and tip-toe your way to the door before cracking it open ever so slightly and then swinging it fully open.

"Leighton? Are you sure you're okay?"

Standing before you, in all her glory, was Leighton Murray dressed to the nines like she always was whilst you stood in pyjamas. It wasn't even necessarily late, possibly just half-past six, but you enjoyed living in comfort.

"Of course, never better," she replied, moving into the room after you turned to the side to let her in.

In reality, Leighton had never felt so anxious in her life. If she hadn't called you on a whim, she most likely would have been back in her dorm by now. She spun around as you closed the door and, were those her pyjamas? She had let you keep them that night, and just seeing you in them was giving her whiplash to last weekend.

"I want to ask you out, on a date," she stated. "I know you said that thing a few days ago about how just because we both like girls we aren't automatically attracted to each other or whatever, and that other thing of people in a relationship should be in different friend groups, which was basically a big fat sign saying 'we're just friends', but you honestly make me feel insane and I can't stop thinking about you like all the fucking time and maybe, hopefully, you like me back or maybe I'm just crazy and delusional and all the signs are just figments of my imagination."

You stared at her with a growing smile as she ranted and now she was partly out of breath as she searched your eyes, and swallowed nervously.

You nodded your head tentatively and Leighton took a small step toward you. 

"I need you to say it," she whispered softly, the words barely passing her lips, her wide, Bambi-eyes on you. She needed to know it was real.

"Yes," you nodded again, "I'd love to go on a date with you." You saw as she visibly relaxed.

"When are you free?"

"Umm.." you began as you sifted through the busy days ahead for a potential gap.

"Now?" Leighton offered and your eyes snapped to her.

"I mean- yeah?"

"Great." You felt Leighton take your hand and begin to lead you out of your room.

"I'm not changed."

"You don't need to be, plus you look cute in my pyjamas."

"Yours? They're mine now," you grinned as the door shut behind you and the two of you made your way out of the building.

"Do you have a plan?" You questioned as you stepped outside.

"Drive."

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 14: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 5)

Summary: You and Soap go fishing, have some nice conversations, and get a little wet. Things seem to be changing between you.

Word Count: 8,311

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, animal death, fluff, mentions of poor past relationships

A/N: New chapter for you!! This one’s a little longer and full of nice moments 😊 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Taglist!

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Bitter Allies • Part 14

By the time you'd gotten back to the cabin, you estimated it was nearing 1400-1500 hours. The sun was just beginning to move closer to the horizon, but there was still plenty of daylight left for fishing.

After dropping the backpack off inside, you found yourself back out in the woods looking for sticks that were both long enough and sturdy enough to fish with. So far you haven't had much luck. The sticks were either too rotted, too heavy, not long enough, or too flimsy.

Sighing softly, you toss another stick that turned out to be a dud to the ground. This one looked decent but felt a little too rotted. And sure enough, when it hits the ground, it snaps off about a fourth of the stick, making it too short now.

You grumble to yourself in frustration, continuing on with your search. You weren't expecting to catch any fish right away, but you honestly thought the preparation would be going a little faster than this.

Coming across yet another stick, you bend down to pick it up. This one actually feels sturdy and is a decent shape. You instantly start to get excited and hold it to show Soap.

"Hey! Would this work?" You ask, pulling him away from his own search momentarily.

He was a few yards away, searching out in the opposite direction that you had been. It doesn't look like he's found anything yet either. At least his hands are empty as he walks over to you to check out the potential spear. He glances it over really quick before taking it from you to inspect it closer.

"It's a little on the heavy side." He says, bouncing it a little bit in his hands to test out the weight. "If it's too heavy then you won't be able to thrust it fast enough to spear any fish. But I might be able to whittle away some of the weight to make it work."

"So does that mean it's good?" You ask slowly, hopefully. Any progression towards getting your fish dinner would be nice.

Soap chuckles softly and gives you a nod. "Yeah, this'll work. I'll start prepping it if you want to keep looking." He says, walking over to a nearby tree stump and sitting down.

You're grinning to yourself excitedly as Soap takes a seat on the stump. You only needed to find one more stick, maybe two if you wanted a backup, and then you'd out in the water.

Before you go back to searching though, you take a second to watch Soap as he lays the stick across his lap and as he pulls the knife from his pocket. He flicks it open with a practiced ease and gets to work on getting one of the ends into a sharp point. He's working quick enough that it looks like he's done something like this before.

"Where did you learn to fish this way?" You ask as you resume looking for suitable sticks.

Soap hums softly in thought, making three swipes with the knife before answering. "I think it was Price who showed me this way. Back a few years ago when I first joined up."

"Of course it was." You giggle. You could totally see Price being the kind of guy who liked to fish.

It was probably because of the boonie hat that he was always wearing.

“You do any fishing before that? The normal way with actual poles?" You ask, the question popping into your mind and leaving your lips without much thought.

Soap pauses mid-swipe, his knife hovering just above the wood. It's a brief moment, gone almost as quickly as it comes, but you catch the subtle hesitation before he resumes his work.

"Yeah... I used to go quite a bit with my dad." He answers slowly, returning to a steady pattern of swipes with the knife. "When I was young I remember going out a few times a month with him to go fishing. He was really into it, but after my mum died, I don't think we ever went again."

You stop your search for a moment to frown over at him. His eyes are glued to the stick he's working on though. You're having trouble reading him, not sure if this is a sensitive topic for him or not. He looked a little tense, but you can't tell if that's from the topic of your conversation or because he's hunched over whittling at a stick.

"Do you miss it?" You ask slowly, trying to keep up your search, but you're a little distracted now.

"Miss what?" Soap asks, finally glancing up at you. "Fishing? Not really." He shrugs, gaze dropping back down, the knife continuing its steady rhythm against the wood.

You frown a little bit. That wasn't really what you'd been asking. "I guess I meant it more like do you miss fishing with your dad." You elaborate.

"Oh, no. Maybe when I was a kid, but no. Don't really miss it now."

His response comes so quickly, so bluntly, that it catches you off guard. There's no hesitation, no flicker of emotion, just a flat dismissal. The ease with which he brushes it off makes you pause and take a moment to think over his response. You'd figured Soap and his dad must have been close, especially given how he spoke about his mom, but now you realize that might not be the case.

"Are you and your dad still close?" You ask softly, your search for sticks now completely forgotten for the time being.

Soap continued on with indifference though, pausing only to turn the spear over a few times to inspect his work. He was mostly done. The only thing that remained was to take off some spots that had the potential for causing splinters.

"No, we had a... falling out? I guess you could call it that." He says, blowing a quick puff on air onto the spear before shaving away at one spot.

You hesitate, trying to find the right words to respond. The way he brushes it off so casually leaves you a bit uneasy, but confident enough to keep asking about it. He didn't seem too upset by the topic.

"Falling out?" You echo, raising an eyebrow curiously. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Soap's expression tightens just a fraction, the subtle shift the only sign that this topic is more difficult for him than he's letting on. You regret asking now.

His eyes remain locked on the spear, and the silence stretches uncomfortably between you. For a moment, you wonder if he'll respond at all, and you're on the verge of reassuring him that he doesn't have to say anything. But just as you're about to speak, he breaks the silence.

"It's... complicated." He sighs, his tone carefully tight and neutral. "Kinda a long story. Not a great one. Let's just say a lot changed after my mum died."

He's getting more tense more. You can see his shoulders stiffen and the once smooth swipes of his knife become rougher, more forceful. Whatever happened between Soap and his father, it clearly left behind a deep, lingering anger.

"Alright. Yeah, we don't have to talk about it." You say gently, giving him a reassuring half smile even though he wasn't currently looking at you to notice it.

"So uh.. how many sticks do you think we'll need? Do you think two will be good enough?" You want to steer the conversation away from the topic that had clearly made him uncomfortable.

It seemed to actually work too. The second you get off the topic of Soap's dad, he seems to relax, his shoulders dropping.

"Should probably do three just in case one breaks or something." He says, sitting upright and rolling his shoulders out. It looked as though he was getting rid of any remaining stress. "You find anymore yet? This one is just about done."

He holds it up, showing off his work. One end of the stick looks extremely sharp, and he's done a good job at shaving off parts of the stick to make it more comfortable to hold and use.

The whole time he's been working, you'd been distracted by your conversation. You had yet to find another one, but you also haven't looked very hard. Forcing your feet to leave the spot they'd been firmly planted at, you start trekking back through the area to look for more sticks.

"No, not yet. Most of the stuff here is pretty rotted." It sounds like an excuse, but you're also not completely lying. Most of the options thus far had been rotten.

Then of course you just happen to find a perfect candidate the second those words leave your lips. "Oh, wait, here's one." You bend down to pick it up.

Soap laughs softly, and you miss that he rolls his eyes a little bit. He was fully aware you hadn't even been looking. "Well bring it over. Just one more to go after this."

He sets the finished spear down next to the stump he's sitting on and holds out his hand as you bring the next stick to him. Setting it in his lap, he starts whittling away at it once more while you get back to looking for one more.

As he does, his mind drifts a bit, thinking back to his father and what happened. His hand tightens on the handle of the knife, but he forces himself to relax. He doesn't want to be angry.

It's been a while since he's had to think about the things that happened in his past. The longer he's out here, the more stuff seems to come up—things he's buried deep for a reason. It's not something he really wants to think about... if he can help it.

He clears his throat, shaking off his thoughts and looking back to you. "So States, you uh... you ever been fishing before?"

Your face lights up when he asks that, and you start to ramble on about how you grew up in the city, so you didn't have the chance to go often, but you went once with your grandpa. A whole retelling of the trip occurs after that, and Soap just listens on with a smile on his face.

***

You're sitting in the grassy patch near the lake out behind the cabin, removing your socks and stuffing them safely inside of your shoes. Soap is already out in the water, spear in hand, but he hasn't waded too far out yet. He's standing right along the shoreline, just enough for his toes to be fully submerged, waiting for you to join him.

"Steaming Jesus, for someone who was rushing me through making that last spear, you sure are slow as hell all of a sudden." He grumbles, looking back at you with a somewhat impatient look on his face.

You shoot him a look as you roll your pants up a bit higher. "That's because I'm not just tossing my stuff around like that." You say, nodding toward his shoes, which are haphazardly kicked off with his socks inside-out and scattered randomly nearby. "You know honestly it's hard to believe you're in the military with how messy you are sometimes."

Soap scoffs at you. "I'm not messy." He claims, but you just fold your arms across your chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah? What about the suitcase in our room?"

The suitcase had remained unpacked by him. While you had neatly arranged your belongings in the dresser drawers, Soap hadn't unpacked a single item. Whenever he needed something, he'd dig it out, wear it or use it, and then by the end of the day, whatever he'd taken out was returned to the suitcase, tossed back into the growing pile that filled the entire bag.

"What about it?" Soap asks defensively. "That's not messy."

You can only drop your jaw at him, eyebrows raised in shock. "What do you mean that's not messy? It's just a big pile. You haven't put anything away since we got here."

"Better than it being on the floor. Besides, I see no need to unpack if we're only gonna be out here a week."

You scoff, shaking your head as you finish rolling up your other pant leg. "You could at least organize your stuff a little. That's all I'm saying."

Soap shrugs nonchalantly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic. "Eh, whatever. Just get your ass over here already before all the fish turn in for the night." He says, turning back to look out into the water to see if he can spot an area where they might be gathering.

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the ground and grab your spear. The sun glimmers on the water, the wind creating gentle ripples on the surface. Despite the warm rays bearing down on you, the water is cool. As you step in, a shiver runs along your spine as the water laps against your bare feet.

The bottom of the lake is rather smooth, but there are a few sharp rocks that poke up into the bottoms of your feet. As long as you walk slowly though, it doesn't bother you too much. It's something you've gotten used to in your time here and during the few baths you've taken.

Soap looks back over his shoulder at you when he hears you enter the water, waiting until you're closer to him before he starts to wade out a little farther. "Come on, we're gonna have to go out a little deeper for bigger fish. Small ones probably aren't going to be worth catching."

"Alright, I'm coming." You call out, taking a few steps farther into the water.

When you get a little deeper into the water, you suddenly pause. There's a slight prickle at the back of your neck that makes you turn and reflexively glance back at the shoreline.

Last time you'd been out in the water, you'd been attacked by a bear. While you had managed to face your fear directly earlier, that didn't mean that the urge to check your surrounds to make sure it was safe was entirely gone. That urge would most likely always be there to some degree. It was just more manageable now.

When Soap doesn't hear the sounds of the water splashing behind him anymore, indicating that you weren't following him, he stops and looks back. You were still standing in the more shallow waters, staring off back towards the shoreline.

"Oi, States!" He calls out to get your attention. "You good?"

His voice pulls you out of your own head, and you jump a little bit as your gaze snaps back to his. You quickly try to shake off any remnants of fear and try to remind yourself everything was fine. Even if a bear did show up, you knew how to make it go away.

"Yep! Coming." You call back, trying to quickly catch up to him without making the water slosh too much.

Soap waits patiently for you to join him, his brows furrowed the slightly and eyes following your every movement. "Everything alright?" He asks again once you've caught up.

"Yeah." You nod dismissively, giving him a slight shrug.

You're about to just move past him, head out into deeper waters where the fish are going to be, but then suddenly Soap grabs your arm. The quick motion makes your heart leap in your chest, and the unexpectedness of it forces you stop in your track and look at him.

His eyes are sharp, analytical, and his grip on your arm is firm, but not painful. He pulls you closer, giving your arm a little tug, and your heart seems to start racing as you move closer to him.

"No bullshite. What's up?" He asks, eyes not leaving yours for a second. "Are you still worried about the whole bear thing?"

You honestly hadn't expected him to notice anything, let alone address it so directly, but the reply flies quickly off your tongue.

"No." You answer, shaking your head, but then think better of it. "Well, thinking about it, yes. Worried? Not as much as I was. It's just... It's still on my mind, just not as present." You try to explain. The fear is more of a shadow now, a subtle unease that lingers at the edges of your thoughts. More manageable.

"In other words, I'm fine. I'll be alright." You try to summarize. "Just can't completely turn it off."

Soap remains silent, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes you more nervous than the thought of another bear showing up. His gaze is so unwavering, so focused, that it feels like it's seeing right through you.

The longer he holds your gaze, the more your chest tightens, as if the air around you has thinned. You find yourself wanting to hold your breath, unsure if it's his concern or something else that's making your pulse quicken. Then he nods, a soft hum of acceptance leaving his lips.

"If being out here gets to be too much, just say the word. You've done a lot today, and I don't want to push you too much." His words cause an unexpectedly warm sensation to fill your chest, and your breath almost hitches when he squeezes your arm. "Deal?" He raises his brows, almost like he was saying he expected an answer.

"Mhmm." You hum, giving him a nod. You don’t want to rely on words right now. You don’t trust your voice.

Soap gives you a nod back, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Alright then." He mutters, his posture becoming more relaxed. His hand drops from your arm, and you notice there is a warm tingle left behind where he'd been touching you. "You ready to catch some dinner?"

You feel a sigh leaves your lips as you nod. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath. "Yeah, let's get going." You add quickly, trying to hide your sudden nerves behind a smile.

Soap either doesn't notice anything or he just doesn't care enough to. He just gives you a single nod back and then turns and continues walking. You follow after him, moving slower the higher the water gets.

You stop when the water comes up just a few inches above your knees. For Soap the water was only to his knees, but he was taller than you. The area isn't too far from the shoreline, and the water is a little cloudy from you kicking up the dirt at the bottom of the lake.

"We'll try here first." Soap says, coming to a stop. "Get into a stance that's comfortable cause you're going to be holding it for quite a while."

"How long?" You ask curiously, adjusting your feet shoulder width apart. It was the most comfortable stance you can think of. Almost like parade rest, which is a stance you'd gotten used to holding for hours thanks to basics.

"However long it takes for the fish to move into this area." Soap answers, adjusting his own stance as well. He holds the spear with a loose grip, the tip lowered toward the water, but there's no tension. His fingers grip the stick lightly, though he is ready to snap the spear up in an instant if he sees something.

You try to mimic the way he's holding his spear. This is your first time doing something like this, and as simple as it sounds, it was going to be difficult to move fast enough to be able to snag a fish. They were quick and used to responding to the most minute movements.

"Am I doing this right?" You ask, making Soap glance over at you. He observes your posture and then leans over, tapping softly at your hand closer to the butt end of the spear.

"Move this hand back just a little. No, too far. Right there." He says, grabbing at your hand and moving it into position when you move it too much. "Perfect. Leave it like that." He holds up his hand, making a gesture to not move it, and then turns his gaze back to the water.

"Cool, thanks." You mutter, shifting back into your "ready to strike" stance. Your eyes are trained on the water, looking for any signs of movements, but the water is still very murky.

"What kind of fish do you think are even in this lake?" You ask absentmindedly, mostly just asking to help pass the time.

Soap shrugs a bit, his eyes not leaving the water. "Maybe cod? Not really sure. We probably shouldn't talk though. It might scare them off and keep them from swimming over here."

"Oh, sorry." You whisper, pressing your lips together.

Not being able to talk was going to make time pass by so slowly. For a long time, you just stare at the water, but that soon gets really boring. You try to distract yourself by looking up every now and then to look at the scenery around you, but that doesn't keep you occupied for long either.

Soon enough, you're sure at least ten minutes has passed. The water is clear now, but you still don't see any signs of fish. Your back is starting to hurt a bit from staying in the same posture for so long, and you find yourself trying to slowly roll out your shoulders to help ease the discomfort.

You glance over at Soap, wondering if he's feeling the same tension in his back that you were. If he was though, you can't tell. He hasn't moved a muscle since you both went silent, and he doesn't look like he's too uncomfortable yet.

Sighing softly, you relax your stance a bit. "Soap, maybe we should try a different area? There doesn't seem to be any fish over here." You whisper. It'd been quiet for so long it almost felt weird to talk.

Instead of answering you with words, Soap holds up his fist. You're a little confused at first, brows furrowing slightly, but then he points over to a spot a little off to his right.

"Over there. I think there's three or four of them. Wait until they get close." Soap whispers, his eyes not leaving the spot he's looking at.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly, but carefully, get back into your stance from earlier. All the pains from earlier are now gone with the new excitement you feel. You look over to the area where Soap pointed to, looking for the fish, but you can't see anything. Just a glint of sunlight on the water's surface.

"I don't see them." You whisper, eyes still scanning the water. Soap silently points again, his finger tracking their movement. You try to follow to where he's pointing at, and after a few seconds, you finally spot them—shadows just beneath the surface, moving slowly toward you.

You hum softly to let Soap know you can see them now, and his hand slowly returns to his spear. You see him coil up just slightly, shoulders tensed and ready to snap. He's almost like a loaded gun, just a trigger squeeze away from firing.

"When they're close enough, I'll count down." He whispers, his voice steady. "You go for the one closest to you."

You nod, your own muscles beginning to tense up with anticipation. Your heart is starting to pound a little in your chest from the sudden adrenaline, and you find yourself holding your breath. You feel like you're looking down the scope of a sniper rifle, trying to steady your aim so you can land the perfect shot.

"Ok get ready…” Soap whispers. “One... two... three."

When Soap says three, he snaps like a spring lock. The movement is so quick it feels like his spear was already in the water before you even had the chance to move. You did go the same time as him though, snapping your spear down with all the force you can muster. You feel it hit the bottom of the lake, water splashing up as you do. All the commotion also causes the first to stir up again, so you can't even tell if you've gotten anything or not. 

Soap quickly reaches down into the water, hand searching for only a second before a big grin spreading across his face. "I got one!" He laughs victoriously, pulling a fish up out of the water by its tail, the spear pierced right through its gills. "You get yours, States?" He asks, grunting a bit as the fish thrashes around.

"I'm not sure." You say, almost scared to reach blindly into the water. You've never touched a fish before, so you're a little hesitant. You can't feel anything moving at the end of your spear though.

"Let's have a look." Soap says, taking a step closer and reaching down to feel around. By now the fish on his spear has slid down a ways, so there was no way it was going to be able to wriggle off.

He follows the wooden shaft of the spear down, and your eyes dart between his face and the water, hoping he'd pull something out. After a few seconds, his hand comes back up out of the water empty.

"Nothing down there." He confirms, flicking the water off his hand a little bit.

"Dammit." You curse, frowning a bit as you withdraw your spear from the water. "I thought for sure I'd gotten it."

Soap chuckles softly, giving your shoulder a pat. His hand was still wet and leaves a little wet patch behind. "Ah, come on. You'll get it next time. Let's go put this one out of its misery and then we can try again, yeah? Gonna need a few anyways."

You pout over at him, not too happy that you didn't also catch a fish, but the look of joy on Soap's face makes your pout vanish instantly. His eyes were practically sparking as he looks proudly at the fish he caught. You find yourself smiling at him instead, a laugh bubbling in your chest.

"How many are you planning on catching?" You chuckle, turning and walking with him back to the shoreline.

"If they're all this size," he says, holding up his spear a little. "Then I could probably eat like four of them."

You watch the fish flop around, noting its size. It's not particularly large—maybe eight to ten inches long—and you're not even sure what kind of fish it is. It has brown scales and a white underbelly. You can't imagine catching anything much bigger in this lake.

"If you want to spend time catching four for yourself, knock yourself out." You chuckle, stepping up onto the shore. The dirt and sand stick to your feet. "I might actually catch one by the time you get to four."

Soap rolls his eyes, sliding the fish off his spear and holding it by the gills. "You'll get one next time. It's your first time fishing like this. Don't be so hard on yourself." He pulls out his knife as he talks, jabbing it into the head of the fish to kill it and then slicing the gills to start bleeding it out. Even though you're on the military and see death a lot, you still have to look away as he does.

"We'll see." You sigh, looking back out to the lake. "Are we going to the same spot?"

"Nah, we should probably try somewhere else. Let me finish prepping this fish and then we can head out again. Unless you want to try a spot. Might have better luck catching something without me catching in the same area." He suggests.

You nod, mostly cause you don't really want to hang around as he guts the fish. Plus you know that fish don’t stay fresh for very long after you kill them, so the faster you can get a couple and cook them, the better.

"I'll head back out. Try to get a head start." You joke, glancing back down at Soap and wincing as he slices open the belly.

"Alright, catch up with you in a bit." Soap says, his focus solely on the fish before him now.

You grimace just a little before turning and head back out into the water, searching for another spot to fish.

***

You've been standing in the same spot for what feels like an eternity, though it's only been about fifteen minutes. Twice you've had a chance to spear a fish, but both times you missed. It's frustrating, especially since you've watched Soap haul two more fish back to shore in that time.

You're starting to wonder what you're doing wrong. Is it your aim, the timing, or something else?

The water laps quietly around your ankles, the stillness almost mocking your lack of success. You try to focus, adjusting your stance and grip on the spear.

Another fish is swimming towards you, gliding slowly through the water. Taking a deep breath and holding it, you wait until it's close enough, then thrust the spear down as fast as you can. The water splashes up around you, and you can hear the fish's tail flick up above the surface. But when everything settles, you still just have an empty spear.

"Fuck!" You yell out. It was a little louder than you intended it to be, the sound seeming to echo across the small alcove you found yourself in. Now you would have to move into another area, wait ten minutes for a fish to swim over, and try again.

As you pull your spear free and wipe off the little bits of sediment that were left on it still, you can hear a soft chuckle behind you. Turning in irritation, you send a glare over to Soap, who was leaning up against a tree and watching you. How long he'd been there, you don't know, but he had seen you miss apparently.

"Did it get away from ya?" He asks, his arms crossed and spear still in hand. His feet looked dry though, so you assume he's just finished gutting one and is just returning for another trip.

"Does it look like I got it?" You raise your brows at him. "This is fucking hard."

Soap chuckles again, clearly amused by your misery. "It's not that hard, lass."

"Says the guy who's caught three already."

"Four, actually." He corrects you, which makes your jaw drop. When did he get four? You swear you've only seen him make two trips.

"What the fuck?! How are you getting so many?"

Soap shrugs, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You just stab them when they get close." You give him a look at his horrible advice, which only makes his smirk widen. You wish you could wipe that smirk off his face somehow.

"I've been doing that." You grumble, about to further complain, but then Soap's eyes leave yours, darting down to the water.

"There's another one swimming up to you now." Soap says, nodding indistinctly towards the water.

Your attention snaps back to the water, searching for the fish that Soap spotted. It takes a moment, but then you see it—the dark shape gliding just beneath the surface, moving slowly past you. You steady your stance, grip tightening on the spear as you line up the shot.

Then you move, a splash erupting around you, and you feel a brief resistance—but when you reach into the water to try and retrieve the fish, it's already darting away.

"Damn it!" You exclaim, frustration bubbling up as the water settles back into calmness. You're tired and hungry, you just want to catch something—anything, even if it's just a tiny fish.

Soap lets out a soft huff, the grin still plastered to his face. He's having fun watching you fail. "Need some help there, lass?" He offers, a teasing note in his voice.

You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't need help." You grumble defensively, though it doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest.

“Right." He chuckles, turning the tip of his spear down and driving it into the dirt. "Let me show you something that might help." He says, carefully stepping down into the water and making his way over to you.

You sigh and fold your arms across your chest but withhold your protests. As much as it pained you to admit, a few pointers might be nice. You were willing to do anything at this point it if meant you'd finally catch something. That doesn't mean you don't fully intent on giving Soap a hard time about it though.

Soap ignores your expression, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considers the best way to help you. "Alright, first things first," he begins, stepping closer. "You need to wait until the fish is in a good range before you to strike. You'll be faster and more accurate if you hit it at the right angle. My speed at a forty-five degree angle is much faster than like ninety."

He makes the thrusting motions with a ghost spear, acting out how he would move for each angle he's talking about. You felt like you had a pretty good angle you were moving at, so that couldn't be the problem. Still, you nod along as Soap explains, letting him continue.

"Next, when you drive the spear forward, use the hand at butt of the spear to control the thrust." He takes a step closer to you, the water sloshing around him as he does. He takes your hand and places it on the spear, positioning it exactly where he wants it.

"That's where all the power comes from—it gives you that snap you need." He continues, his eyes meeting yours briefly. His voice is a little lower now that he's closer. "The hand up front," he pauses to grab your other hand for emphasis. "That's what guides it. So keep the hand at the front steady and loose so you can guide it, and the back one firm. Got it?"

You half glance towards your spear, looking at the way Soap has placed your hands. His are still right next to yours, holding it with you. "Yeah, I think I got it." You answer him.

"Good. Lastly," Soap lets go of the spear, and before you can even react, he's directly behind you, arms wrapped around you while he grabs ahold of the spear again.

Your eyes widen, and you know you have to be blushing. Your heart is pounding too hard in your chest for you to not be. Then you feel his chest against your back, and your stomach practically flips. It's the same feeling you had last night in your dream when...

You shake your head, trying to immediately erase that thought and focus on what Soap was saying instead. It's hard though when his lips are practically against your ear, making your thoughts just spiral more. 

"When you aim for the fish, remember that water bends light. The fish isn't exactly where it looks like it is. You need to aim slightly lower than where you think. So for example... do you see that rock?" He says, pausing momentarily while he searched for something to use as practice.

You nod, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart as you focus on the rock he's pointing out. "Yep. I see it."

"Pretend that rock is a fish." He instructs. "Now, if you were aiming directly at it, you'd miss. You've got to aim just below it. Like this." He guides your hands, tilting the spear just a fraction lower than where the rock appears and then pushing it forward. When it hits the bottom, instead of sinking into the sandy lake bottom, it hits the hard surface of the rock instead.

"Huh." You breath. No wonder you'd been missing every single time. You had been aiming right for the fish, not below where you should have been. Knowing this right off the bat would have solved so many problems.

Soap chuckles softly, trying to lean around you a bit to see your face better. "You were aiming right at the fish this whole time, weren't you?" He asks. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.

You huff and stand back up, turning around in his hold. When he doesn’t let go of your hips right away, you press your hand into his chest and push him away.

“Of course I was! Who just thinks about that when it's their first time spear fishing?" You argue back, starting to feel just a little defensive.

Soap's chuckle deepens, a low rumble in his chest. "Guess I just assumed you knew." He shrugs. "It's just like sniping, I thought it'd be second nature to you."

"Sniping is nothing like this!" You argue, crossing your arms. "With sniping, your target is far away, not just a few feet below you. And if it was, you'd just aim directly at it."

"Fair point," Soap concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. "I thought of it more like when you're a sniper, you notice subtle things, like light reflection, that might change how you aim."

You huff again, rolling your eyes. "Well, maybe if you'd mentioned that earlier, I wouldn't have missed so many times."

Soap's grin only widens. "Oh, but where's the fun in that, lass? I've got to admit, it's been pretty entertaining watching you throw a little fit every time you miss."

"Is that so?" You challenge, narrowing your eyes at him. The playful smirk on his face only fuels your irritation.

You'd been out here all day, and Soap hadn't thought to say a word until now about what could have caused your lack of success. And now he was laughing about it and calling it entertaining?

"Absolutely, hen. It's down right adorable when you're piss- h-hey!"

Before he can finish, without a second thought, you reach down and scoop up a handful of water, splashing it right at him. Soap holds his hands up to block the onslaught of water, but it doesn't help much to stop it.

"States! What the fuck?" He grumbles, looking back at you with an angry expression. He had a few drops running down the side of his face, dripping down onto the collar of his shirt, which was also dotted with some wet spots now.

You can't help it. While he stands there, looking annoyed, a giggle escapes your lips, quickly followed by more as you shrug innocently. "Just creating some more entertainment." You say, the laughter bubbling up uncontrollably now.

Soap narrows his eyes at you, and before you can react, he's scooping up an even larger wave and splashing you right back. You shriek as the cold water hits you, making the giggles cease. The wave he'd sent over was much bigger than the one you did. The entire side of your shirt was soaked now.

You stand there for a moment in shock, staring down at the water and watching the little ripples that form on the surface as droplets drip off your face. When your gaze flicks back up to Soap, he's smirking again, soft chuckles leaving his lips.

You glare at him, skin starting to prickle up as a small breeze blows by. Never one to back down and let Soap win whatever dispute you were having, you quickly splash him again, wanting to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It takes him by surprise this time, hitting him square in the chest. He gasps a little, and you hold your hands over your mouth. You hadn't meant to splash him that much, he was soaked now.

Instantly his laughter stops, and you're both frozen, just staring at each other. Then Soap's face shifts into a little scowl, and you know you shouldn't have splashed him again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to splash you that much." You say quickly, but it does nothing. Soap's muscles tense just slightly, and that's all the warning you need.

You don't think—you just run.

The water slows you down significantly, splashing up around your legs as you push through it. You can hear the intense splashing behind you as Soap runs after you, and for whatever reason, laughter starts to bubble in you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cry out between nervous giggles, not quite sure what Soap was going to do once he caught you, and you were sure he would. For one, your legs were shorter than his, which meant more resistance from the water. And second, Soap was faster than you in general.

"Soap please! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" You pled again, risking a glance back over your shoulder.

He's right behind you. You scream and try to dart to the side, but it's too late. He grabs you, and in one fluid motion, he pulls you toward him. The impact sends you both falling, but as you head towards the water, Soap twists at the last second, taking the brunt of the fall himself.

You both plunge into the water with a splash, the cool liquid enveloping you entirely for a brief moment. The shallow depth allows you to quickly sit up, and you gasp for air as you resurface. Water cascades down your face, and once you've taken a breath, laughter starts to pour out of you uncontrollably. Soap is still beneath you, the two of you tangled together in a mess of limbs and soaked clothes.

You're laughing so hard you can barely breathe, your stomach aching from it. "Soap, I'm—" you try to apologize through your giggles, but the words fail. Instead, you attempt to push yourself up, but your limbs feel weak from laughter, and it's a little slippery, making it a futile effort. You just end up twisting around clumsily and straddling him instead, your shoulders shaking with breathless amusement.

Soap wipes the water off his face as his pops up, and once he gets his bearings, he starts to laugh too. Instinctively, he grabs ahold of your hips to steady you as you turn around and slip into his lap. You grab ahold of his shoulders, still laughing as you look down at him.

Droplets cling to his eyelashes, and his usually styled hair is plastered messily to his forehead. His eyes crinkle at the sides, and his smile is so contagious as he laughs.

"Think you're funny, do you?" He teases, the laughter in his voice betraying any attempt at seriousness.

"Maybe just a little." You manage to gasp out, still giggling as you start to your breath.

Soap shakes his head, a soft smile curving his lips as his grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly. "You're a menace, States."

There's something in the way he says it—playful but warm. Your giggles start to fade, and for a moment, you're just sitting there, looking at him, still breathing heavy from exertion and laughter. For the first time you notice the subtle flecks of green amidst the blue in his eyes.

Soap is staring right back at you, and you almost don't realize it until you feel his hand against your cheek, brushing back the wet strands of hair that cling to the side of your face.

Your heart skips in your chest, and a warmth starts to spread through you, making you forgot that you're sitting in cold water. "You bring it out in me." You chuckle, earning a smile from Soap in return.

He laughs softly, shaking his head just a little bit. "Oh, so I'm a bad influence now? Guess you should stay away from me then." 

"Well, you're not so bad to be around." You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air, and Soap's smile falters, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The space between you seems to be getting smaller, cause suddenly, you can feel his breath against your lips. The warm and steady puffs mingle with your own, and your pulse starts to quicken. You can't tell who is pulling towards who.

You don't know who makes the final move, but suddenly his lips are on yours—firm, warm, and insistent. The world around you melts away, the cool water forgotten as you deepen the kiss, melting into his soft warm lips.

His one arm slowly wraps around you, the other one staying behind him to keep you both propped up. He pulls you towards him, thumb brushing your hip as you wiggle a little closer.

Your hands move from gripping his shoulders to gently resting on the sides of his neck. Your thumbs brush lazily along his jaw, which draws out a very soft, almost mute, hum from him.

There's a quiet desperation in the way you both move, as if this kiss had been building for longer than either of you realized. You don't know how you keep circling back to this. Caught between trying to set a boundary but consistently overstepping it. Even now, you know somewhere deep in your subconscious you shouldn't do this, but you can't seem to stop.

You feel teeth gently dig into your bottom lip, and you whimper, eyes fluttering open slightly. You see Soap, his eyes shut, and you can barely make out his lips as he pulls gently at yours.

He releases it and looks up at you, his eyes heavy, clouded with what you can only pin down as desire. You search for something to say, something to explain and make sense of what is happening between you, but you can't.

"We should probably stop." Soap says gently, though his eyes still hold that heavy, lingering gaze.

You nod a little, eyes not leaving his. "Yeah... probably." You agree, but you make no move to get up, and he makes no move to push you off him.

It's only when you shiver slightly that Soap seems to snap out of whatever daze he's in. His eyes soften quickly, and he smiles at you, a light chuckle leaving his lips. "Alright, let's get you out of this chilly water, hen."

You blink a little to clear your head and then nod again. "Yeah... yeah." You chuckle softly, only now realizing how cold the water is making you. "Guess I am getting a little cold."

Just as you're about to shift off his lap, intending to create some much-needed distance, Soap suddenly stands up, bringing you with him. You yelp in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around him as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water. His arms tighten around you, pulling you close against his chest, his body radiating warmth despite the cool water dripping off both of you.

"Soap! What are you doing?" You laugh, clutching onto him as he strides through the water.

"Getting you out of the water, obviously." He teases, his voice light as he carries you effortlessly toward land.

You lean back slightly to you can look at him, raising a brow at him. "I can walk, you know." You're trying to be serious, but you can't hide the laugh in your tone.

"Yeah, I know. But this is more fun." Soap winks, a playful grin on his face as he reaches the edge of the water. It makes your cheeks burn slightly, and you hope he doesn't notice.

As he steps onto solid ground, he begins to lower you down. Your legs unwrap from around his hips, and your body slides against his as you come down. The sensation sends a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold clinging to your skin.

You expect him to let go immediately, but he doesn't. His hands stay on your hips, keeping you close to him, and you make no effort to pull away from him.

"There you go." He says softly, a hint of a smile still lingering on his face.

You continue to stand there and roll your eyes at him. "Thanks for the assist." You joke, unable to keep your chuckle down.

Soap smiles back at you, chuckling softly himself. "Anytime, hen." He hums, his eyes suddenly flicking down away from yours. He pauses for a moment, and you wonder what’s running through his head. What he’s thinking about.

“We should see if we can get one fish more before we start cooking.” He says instead, finally looking back up. “But you should probably change first. I can see your tits."

It takes a second for his words to fully register, but when they do, your gaze quickly snaps down. Sure enough, you can see practically everything through your wet shirt. The water makes your shirt cling to your body. Even though it's a darker colored shirt, you can still see the outline of your bra, and the dip of the valley between your breasts.

You gasp and quickly cross your arms to shield yourself, which only makes Soap laugh. The bastard had just been staring at your chest this whole time. You glare at him, your face practically feeling like it's on fire.

"You ass! And here I thought we were having a nice moment!"

Soap laughs harder. "It was very nice for me." He shrugs, earning himself a firm punch to his shoulder, one that he gladly takes.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

[ratcash-wasgud]

hi! i just came by your work last night, loved it! stayed up reading it! 11/10 *cheff kiss* Are you up for a petition? maybe another mizuxreader, perhaps villainxhero kinda situation. the reader could be one of the money/sex hungry affiliated with the white man (not a white men herself but like a lap dog of someone with higher power than Abijah Fowle). instead of mizu taking Fowler she takes the *reader*, keeps her alive and makes her speak 7u7 maybe scream. they end up helping each other in the end after much fighting. ofc adding some nsfw there pfff if that wasnt obvious.

hope you see this! lmfao

Omg, yes!! Genius. This set something ablaze inside me (especially since I love witty villain characters). I was thinking about making this a one shot tho, but if yall want a second part tell me, and i'll try. Try. Anyways, this'll be more lighthearted than my other works. Oh, and I'm sorry if this isn't how you imagined the story to go. I interpreted some of the originaly show's story, but mostly I just wen't along with what's the easiest to get my own story going, and I probably got some cannon info wrong too, but please don't yell at me lmao.

Btw!! I'm really glad i got a request!! So thank you! If anyone has any other ideas, I'd be glad to try and working with it!!

Okay, enjoy!!

ℕ𝕖𝕜𝕠 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕤𝕥.

When Mizu pulled up to tea with Heji Shindou, instead of the half-blad old guy, she was faced with you. Some woman in strange clothing. It seemed like it was a mix of western clothing, and some japanese casual wear. You even had your hair down, letting it flow freely. How unusual.

"Ah, the infamous samurai who is tearing through anyone in his way!" You say with a smirk on your face, opening up your arms. "Come, come. Oh, and I see you've bought a dog too." You add, looking smugly at Taigen.

"How dare-" He starts, but gets shut down by Mizu quickly, and the two follow you to sit down.

"So, I've heard you're after the white men, huh?" You say, not sitting on your knees, but sitting down criss-cross style. "Why? What is it that you're after? Money?" You ask, starting to pour some tea.

"I don't need things like that. I have a vow. I swore revenge." Mizu says simply. "And what is it that you need from me?"

"Oh, nada." You shrug. "I'm just willing to offer a deal." You shoot the both of them a smirk. "I'd love to have that fat bastard dead too! My loyalty isn't with him at all!" You say it like it's the most exciting thing ever. "You see, that sack of shit has everything in the world! Money, power, connections...and he's still complaining! Ha! Meaning, he doesn't deserve it." You say as you lift your tea and take a sip. "I, on the other hand, would take much better care of his privilages."

"So you want me to kill him so you can take his place?" Mizu asks, highly suspicious. She glances at Taigen, who is still giving you a dirty look for your comment from earlier.

"Yap." You nod, tossing down your cup. "Fowler wouldn't be an easy target, so without my help, you could already start planning your funeral." You say, but now a small dangerous glint appears in your eyes.

"And why should I trust you?" Mizu asks, her eyes narrowing at you, but your smirk doesn't falter.

"You shouldn't. Didn't you mother tell you not to trust strangers?" You say with a chuckle and Mizu rewards it with a small glare. A small, but cold one. "Still, it's up to you. Do you wanna kill that bastard so much you're willing to take the risk?"

"And how do we know this is not an ambush? That you won't just kill us if we say no?" Taigen cuts in, putting his hands on the table which you reward with your smile getting smugger.

"Oh, please." You put your hands up in defense. "You really think I'd waste weapons and men on you?" You say, looking him straight in the eye. "And besides, you won't say no." You look back at Mizu. "My deal has only benefits for you. You'll just have to gulp down some self respect."

Mizu raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She can't deny, having someone close to Fowler himself helping her would be a huge positive, but...you just seem so sly. Like a cat.

"Ah, you see, I can get you inside Fowler's little residence." You stand up to pull of a blanket off a big barrel. "You'd fit inside quite well. You're a scrawny thing anyways." You say with a taunting smirk.

"It's a trap!" Taigen says to Mizu right away, but Mizu seems unfazed and steps closer. "How exactly would you get me inside?"

"Aw, I wanted that one to be a surprise." You say with a mock pout. "Fowler thinks I'm out getting a good deal on sake, and I kinda am." You take the barrel's to of, revealing that it's half full of sake. "I'd have you delivered right to his nose."

"You'd die." Taigen cuts in again, and Mizu can see your eye twitch at that.

"Could you shut your lil' pet up? The adults are talking." You say, your smirk disappearing.

"She's obviously untrustworthy!" Taigen draws his sword on a whim, but he's met with a revolver to his head right away.

"Don't try that shit with me." You say, tilting your head at him, but you then seel Mizu's blade at your nape. "Touché." You mutter.

"So what now?" You ask with a smirk breaking out on your face again. "Kill me and lose your only chance at killing the man you swore to slay down? Ha! Go on then." You say, glancing over at your shoulder at her, and you see Mizu tense up.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your head and you fall to the ground. Mizu hit you with the hilt of her blade, stripping you of your conciousness.

The next thing you see is a capmfire and a siluette around you. As you blink a lot to clear your vision, you notice Mizu and as you look down, ropes around you. She tied you up.

"So you didn't kill me after all." You say out loud, getting Mizu's attention. "The other guy? The one with a bald spot and a funny glare. The dog." You look around.

"Away." Mizu shrugs simply. It's the truth though, Ringo is away in a nearby town, getting supplements for the road, and she left Taigen with a promise of a later duel.

"So...What is you plan now, big bad samurai? Try and torture me into telling you shit? Ha!" You say, wriggling in the ropes.

"I'm planning to exchange you for information." Mizu says simply, staring at the campfire. "I'm sure Heji Shindo would like to have you back."

You grit your teeth. "That old fucker doesn't give a shit about anything but his money and his dick. I'm sure that power hungry bastard is happy I'm gone." You say, scoffing. "But go on, try." Suddenly, you realize something. "What did you do with my gun?" You ask in a hurry, trying to feel around at your hilt.

Suddenly, Mizu lifts your gun, holding it between two fingers. "This?" She asks, looking at you from the corner of her eyes.

"Don't you dare lose it! I want it back when you're done with me!" You stomp your foot as much as you can.

"You know, for someone talking so big earlier, you're quite pissy now." Mizu says, rolling her eyes and you huff in response.

Then...as you glanced back at the fire, you noticed a small pot, boiling. You tried to lift yourself to see what's in it, but the ropes didn't allowed you to.

"...if I starve to death, I'm just gonna be a waste, you know." You mumble under your nose, and Mizu snorts. She then reaches for the pot, and pours out some what seems like soup into a small bowl and she puts it beside you.

You stare at the bowl, your eye twitching. "I can't reach it." You say, your eyebrows creasing together and she just looks at you with a small, amused grin.

"Huh." She says, leaning back on her hands. "Really?" She taunts you. Oh, this woman is horrible. Fine, you think. In one swift motion, you move your leg as much as you're able, and kick the bowl, spilling it all on Mizu.

Mizu's eyes widen and she looks down on her clothes. "...oh, you little bitch." She hisses at you.

"Come, kill me then!" You stick out your tongue childishly.

"You know damn well I could!" Mizu huffs back, throwing the bowl at you.

"Ha-ha, your whole little quest depends on me!" You laugh right into her face and wriggle your legs. Mizu almost growls at you and suddenly she picks up your gun again, and holds it above the fire, threathening to drop it.

"No!" You yell out, and fall forward, and bite into her ankle. Mizu yanks her leg away with a hiss and reaches down to pull you up by your collar.

"Okay, what's your fucking deal?" She says from behind greitted teeth.

"What's yours?" You ask right back, snarling right back at her. "If you'd wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now. So, want me to talk? Earn it!" You say, getting closer to her face, trying to stand your ground.

"The fuck you want?" Mizu tosses you away, and sits at a reasonable distance from you. "To have Fowler dead? Then just tell me how to get in, and where he is!"

"I want you to untie me, and hand me back my gun!" You demand, and lift your nose, refusing to look at her.

"What's so great about this gun anyways?" Mizu picks up the gun again and looks at it more closely. It's obviously a western gun with a leather grip and engravings along it's barrel in the form of some kind of bird.

You scoff in response. "That was my first gun. It's special." You say like it's the most obvious thing ever. "I will bring it with me when I finally travel aboard, away from this stuck-in-the-past land."

"Huh?" Mizu raises her eyebrows. "You wanna leave Japan? For what?" She asks mockingly.

"Because! This place isn't wide enough for my potential! After Fowler is out of the picture, I will visit take his money and go to London. Start a new life and all. I will really bloom there." You say, rolling onto your back. "People will understand me there."

Mizu narrows her eyes. "I don't think people in Japan are the problem, you're just a common lunatic." That earns a chuckle from you.

"Says the guy who is set out to kill four men he doesn't know shit about." You says, glancing at her, and Mizu can't help herself, cracks a smirk.

"You have guts to talk back to your captor, you know." She says and lifts her eyebrows in amusement. She glances up at the sky too. The stars are very bright tonight.

"You won't kill me." You say, tilting your head so that you're looking straight at her. It's just now that she notcied how nicely the stars reflect in your eyes. Your eyes now look calm, and they don't have any slyness, or mischief in them at the moment. "It wouldn't benefit you." You shrug. "And torturing me would be useless. Pain passes."

"Say," Mizu starts, looking back at the fire. "You said that you're not loyal to Fowler. So who are you loyal to?"

"Me." You say withouth hesitation. "The one who I want the best for and I trust the most is myself. I'm not loyal to any old, egostical bastard with money, like most people in this country are." Say say it with disgust. "I never was and never will be loyal to anyone else, but me."

Mizu scoffs. "What are you, a stray cat?" She asks with a hint of amusement as she looks down at you. "That just makes you even more untrustworty."

You scoff back. "Who said that I want to be trustwhorty?" You ask, rolling your eyes. "Plus, I'm free. Well, not yet, but I will be. And it's not like you can say the same."

Mizu can't help but snicker. "Is that it? Freedom? I'm free enough, thank you."

"Naaaaah." You shake your head. "You're tied down by your own revenge. It tells you where to go, what to see, what to feel...if I told you where's Fowler, you'd get going by tomorrow. Even if I told you you'd die, you'd still go. Not because you want to die, but because that's the only thing you know. Revenge and rage. You'd jump in the well if I said Fowler's at the bottom of it." You say boldly, and look her straight in the eyes before you smirk slyly.

"You think you know everything, huh?" Mizu frowns and gets up to you, grabbing you by the hair. "You know nothing of me. I need this. I will throw my life away if I have to, to finish what I've started, so I won't think twice about taking yours too."

"You're all talk about killing me. Deep down, you know you need me." You taunt her. "You won't find that bastard withouth me. I work under his arm, I could get you there soooo easily, but you're throwing it away because you get too emotional." Your smirk gets even more smug. You kinda look like a cat, Mizu notices again. A cat that has just pushed off something expensive off a shelf, breaking it, and knowing it too.

Mizu noticed that sometimes you force that smugness into your little smirks. She sees it because the corners of your lips twitch. In reality, you are scared of her, but you'd rather die than let her see that. She never met a woman like you. She doesn't know how you got to the place you are, but she respects it. And still, you kow she could take your life. You're tied up, tripped of your weapons and vulnerable, yet you still taunt her. You're very annoying but somehow she can't help but admire your bravery. But the moment you're cornerned into a corner, you hiss and scratch.

After that, she lets you go and walks to be at a good six and a half feet away from you before she lays down, and decides to sleep withouth another word. Not much time passes when Mizu stays sleepless, but she hears you snore. And for some reason, she can't help but smile. You breathe through your mouth when you sleep. It's kind of cute.

The next couple of days are spent with Mizu travelling with Ringo and Taigen, and she drags you along too. Literally. She drags you while you're tied up. During those days, you managed to talk to Ringo a lot. Most of the time he's the one who's assigned to watch over you, and it doesn't seem like he has even as much as a mean bone in his body. You could even call some of your conversations pleasent. The other two on the other hand...you sometimes talk to Mizu and you two always end up in a neck to neck situation. Mizu wants to get you to talk, but she hasn't hurt you yet. She just always threathens you, yells and curses. You just flat out insult her at every chance you get though. It's not because you hate her, persay, but because you find it funny. You're being held captive after all, you need to use every chance you get to have fun.

Currently, you are left alone for the first time in weeks, as the others left your outside of town while they get something done. When you're sure they're out of seeing and hearing range, you start to rub the ropes on your wrist against a bigger rock you've found, trying to "saw" through it. When that irritating thing finally snaps, and you begind to get yourself free, you suddenly hear a very menacing sound from behind.

"The fuck are you doing?" You turn your head and see Mizu, glaring and gripping her sword. Fuck, you think and as she charges at you. You quickly throw away the rest of your ropes, and dogde out of the way. You didn't got to where you are now withouth knowing how to stand your ground, and defending yourself...and knowing how to cheat, of course.

You jump to your feet and get behind Mizu, and with one swift, forward kick to her side, you don't just get her to grunt and almost fall, you also send your gun flying from her side. By now, you've learned that that's where she keeps it. You're still just happy she didn't outright get rid of it. As the gun slides on the cold ground, you jump after it while Mizu regains her composure, and finally obtain it once again.

"Yes!" You silently cheer to yourself and point the gun at Mizu, who just looks at you, her blade covering half her face.

You gulp. Do you really wanna fire at Mizu? Kill her even? You did kinda want to kill her and betray her at first, but now you're...not sure. Sure, she's an asshole but...over those days as being her captive, you learned some things about her...she's not as heartless and cold. She fed you herself, she managed to keep you safe, even if she kept you in robes, and she just wants revenge...she even kept your gun safe.

But you can't show weakness. That's not what you stand for, so you shoot, but aim at her leg. She dodges of course, and manages to pin you down with her blade at your neck, but your gun at her stomach.

You just stare at her eachother, panting, not sure who's gonna kill who first. Mizu stares into your eyes, seeing her own reflection in them. Suddenly she notices that familiar glint in them, and how you swallow while panting, and how nose moves when you take a deep breath...and she feels her stomach fluttering. With adrenaling flowing through her veins and her skin haven't feeling contact with someone else's for so long, she makes a decision. A quick, and a little foolish one.

She pushes her lips against yours, her eyes closing and her breathing speeding up even more. And to her biggest surprise...you kiss back right away. It's all happening so fast. One minute you're nearly killing eachother, and in the other, you're passionately making out with her hands under your clothes, feeling your skin with your weapons thrown to the side.

"Asshole. You fired at me." Mizu mumbles into the kiss, her hands firmly feeling up the skin on your sides, while you rin your hands down her spine.

"Dickhead. You kept me tied up for weeks." You mumble back, gently biting into her lower lip, which Mizu rewards with a small gasp. Suddenly, she feels your hands under her clothes too.

"I knew it." You whisper. "A man could never have a soul like yours." You say and pull her back into a kiss. You feel her knees between your legs, pushing at your core, and in response you squeeze one of her breasts. Mizu starts to get rid of your clothes one by one, and as she does that, you quickly strip her of her own too.

Mizu's slander fingers slowly travel to your slit, but as she does, you grip her wrist and stop her. "No." You mumble. "Not like this." You flip her over (not easily though, she fights back even now), and look down at her naked form, quickly throwing away her chest bindings too.

"Fuck..." You mumble as you carefully align your core with hers, your clits touching, and moving together with every breath. And as you start to move gently, holding yourself up on your hands next to her head, you can hear her moan. She grinds back against yours, your juices mixing together. Even in this moment, it's as if you're both fighting for dominance. You don't know when will Mizu just reach up and choke you to death, but honestly? That's the best part.

You feel her hands around you, one clawing at your back, the other on your jaw...then cheeks, then lips, then the last thing you know is that she's forcing a finger inside of your mouth while you quietly moan and bite down on it. In response you push harder against her, almost squishing her clit with yours, which end in a louder moan from both of you.

"Can't...can't fucking take it..." Mizu moans, pushing her finger deeper inside your mouth before she retreats it, and uses her other hand to pull on your hair instead.

"What? Gonna cum? Ha." You manage to murmur out, not being able to stop your hips, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge too.

"You...fucking wish...ah!" Mizu's whole body twitches as you angle yourself a little differently, giving a whole new sensation to both of you, making you bite into her shoulder while she grips a handful of your hair thightly. And with that, a louder, choked back moan escpaed from both of you...being in perfect balance with eachother, and reaching your climax at the same time.

You stay there, just quietly panting and laying there, on top of eachother in silence for a while. You ahve your face burried into Mizu's neck, basking in her scent while Mizu still has her hand in your hair, feeling it's texture against her cheek.

"...you gotta go through a tunnel." You mumble.

"What?" Mizu perk up, lifting your head by your hair to look into your eyes.

"To get into Fowler's castle. You gotta go through a tunnel that is like...twenty steps away from the road's end and is filled to the brim with traps." You mumble, having your eyes open only halfway. "You gotta head East after you leave the last small village before the forest."

Mizu takes all that in. Now she knows how to get there...now she knows everything. "So that's what it took you to talk? For me to fuck you?"

"I fucked you." You say with a huff and get off of her, putting your clothes back on. "Well, I guess you got what you wanted, and I'm free too." You say, not really sure why. There are no ropes holding you back anymore, so...íthis is your cue to leave, isn't it?

"Wait, where are you going?" Mizu sits up, looking after you.

"Back to Fowler." You shrug. "I'm still his right hand. He probably sent men to find me." You sigh as you finish dressing up. "See you...at the castle." You say, look at her above your shoulder.

"..." Mizu narrows her eyes. "Fuck you." She spits.

"Check." You put on that so familiar smug smirk and hold up a thumbs up. "Spare me a seat in the audience when you cut his head off." You wave as you start walking away.

"...like a fucking stray cat." Mizu sighs, and before you dissappear, the last thing she sees is your wink.

[showsandstuff]

Ways to make a Dale Dimmadome redemption work:

Hi! So, as a self proclaimed Dale Dimmadome redemption truther, I wanted to make this post explaining why a redemption is, in my opinion, very much possible. (I am not nearly as confident about this as I am pretending to be)

Buckle up, this'll be a long one folks!

First, why do I think a Dale redemption could happen? Let's go through it:

It's still a kids show. I find the conclusion to the story that Dale will never love his son a bit grim for a show for children. You could of course make it work by using the found family trope with Peri instead, plus there are plenty of kids shows that have used the evil father of secondary character/antagonist trope, without the father getting a redemption but I do think a Dale redemption is the most satisfying conclusion for this show.

Even Remy Buxaplentys parents started caring for Remy at some point, so I got hope. Though to be fair, they were incredibly one note.

His past with Vicky makes him a bit more sympathetic. Knowing what he went through in his childhood, it makes sense he probably wouldn't know what a child needs. I'm just saying it means there's room for improvement

He emotionally neglects Dev, but his physical needs are met. Which is something, right? Like Yay... And all...

We don't know if Dale doesn't love Dev. I think there's a possibility that he does care but just doesn't know it because he's taken his child for granted. That's not an excuse of course, but it would make a redemption more plausibel. If Dale genuinely does not love Dev whatsoever, I'll give up on my redemption hope.

How could they pull it off, if at all?

Assuming that Dale does love Dev, deep deeeep down, and just doesn't realize it because he's so focused on his company, the best way to show this is through a choice.

Dev doing things that benefit the company has never helped their relationship, Dale just gets happy because Money and it doesn't make him appreciate his son more, Dev just becomes someone useful to him.

But if Dev causes Dale to lose money, that's a good start to see what Dale truly prioritizes deep down.

Dale choosing Dev over his company is what I need if they decide to redeem him. I need Dale in one way or another show us that he truly cares. Maybe have Dale spend so much money to find and save Dev, that his company goes bankrott? Or have his company explodes and Dale's main concern could be Devs wellbeing. Or Dev goes behind his father's back and intentionally hurts the company, but instead of lashing out at Dev, Dale reflects on himself.

Now... That's all incredibly out of character for Dale and I would hate for an unearned redemption. I'd need there to be a lot of build up to that moment, some foreshadowing that hints at Dale not feeling entirely indifferent about Dev. Small moments, nothing too grand. Maybe he'd be worried if he finds out that he had left Dev with Vicky at one Point, and that could be the catalyst to show us that he isn't as awful as we were shown previously.

And after we had enough of those moments and already have a feel that Dale isn't all uncaring, we get to the grand moment where Dale shows us through his actions that in truth, he cares far more about his kid than his cash. It would feel earned and not be out of nowhere then.

Now before yall call me delusional, I know that this is extremely unrealistic and I'm just setting myself up if these are my expectations. Good thing they aren't. I do expect Dev to have something equivalent of his father's love at the end of the show, but that's it.

Here are some examples of what I actually believe would happen:

Hazel and Dev become friends (again) but this time their friendship is explored more. Maybe Dev also befriends Hazel's friends and finds fulfillment through that. (although I think that'll happen regardless and would be unsatisfying if that was all we got)

Involving Peri in this mess and giving him a character arc of his own would work as well. He realizes that Dev doesn't need a Fairy to be happy because, as Cosmo said in the finale, what Dev truly wants isn't something he can get through wishes. Dev, being super rich, is already used to getting "stuff", but love isn't stuff. So Peri basically becoming a parental figure for Dev, which is what he is supposed to be as a godparent anyway, could work. Besides, Peri already solidified himself in this role in the finale when he told Dev that he cared about him. It was a heartwarming moment. We all loved it so ofc we would want more of that.

Anything involving Irep, another Fairy or even Timmy. Dev needs someone that cares for him. My top three go to characters are obviously Peri, Hazel and Dale, but they're not the only ones that could fulfill that role. We just need to wait and see what the writers do.

So yea, a Dale redemption is my first pick for a season 2 finale (or technically my first pick is a hint at a Dale redemption in the s2 finale and the actual redemption happens way later because slow burn) but I do understand that it's pretty unlikely and would be very much satisfied with Peri becoming his godparent with Emphasis on parent, or even the power of friendship with Hazel, though that'd be harder to execute without it feeling cheap (I got faith in the writers)

So this was very long. And I am going to sleep now. Thanks for reading.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congratulations!!

If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?

Thank you!

(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)

Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️

Of mates and mer-dudes

Words: 996

Rated: T

Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water

“Hammer.” 

“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 

���Very funny. I said hammer.” 

“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 

Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 

“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 

“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 

“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 

“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 

Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 

“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”

“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 

Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 

“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 

Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”

Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 

He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 

“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 

There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.

He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  

“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 

Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 

Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.

“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”

His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.

Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  

“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 

“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 

He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 

“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 

“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 

“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 

Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 

“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 

“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 

As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 

For now, he’s got other things to think about. 

More celebration ficlets

[lozchi]

I was looking around and I was wondering. What if Taehun had a loser girlfriend who's literally the complete opposite of him. Like she's wayyy nicer then him (too nice), probably a push over, and not that smart. But she's the comfort he wants ykyk I'M SORRY I'M THAT LOSER GF I JS WANT A MAN LIKE TAEHOON

Dummy!

A/N: worry not, anon. I'm that loser GF too. 😭 This'll be shorter than my usual, forgive me. I loved writing this so much though. 🫀🥹

Pairing: Taehoon Seong x F!Reader

Themes: reader being an idiot. if you're familiar with my writing, there is always swearing.

To some, it’s baffling how one could fall for Taehoon Seong out of all people. He’s a pretty guy with captivating eyes and graceful movements, nghhh~ he's undeniably irresistible, isn't he? Every girl around him would think the same, swooning left and right due to his insane visuals -- Tsk! He's gorgeous! And you weren’t any different. In fact, you were his biggest simp.

It was a curious pairing, to say the least—Mr. Bad Boy and Miss Too-Good-For-Your-Own-Good.

Taehoon strode into the room with the kind of attitude that made people step aside. His arrogance and aggression were palpable. “Do I look like a fuckin’ bank to ya? I ain’t lending 7000, got it? Now scram before I beat the shit outta ya.”

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of kindness and generosity. “Sure! You can borrow 200,000 won from me! Just pay it as soon as you can!” Yeah, incredibly dumb too, unfortunately.

Taehoon had an uncanny ability to read people like an open book. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?” He’d snap, seeing through deceptions with ease.

Meanwhile, “Always happy to help!” You remained blissfully unaware of how people took advantage of you.

Taehoon lived by his own rules, always favoring his own brand of logic. “I’m doing this my way. It’s more efficient.” he would declare, unyielding in his methods.

And then there was you, grappling with concepts that seemed beyond your grasp. “Fuck this shit, I don’t understand a thing!”

“It’s math.” He'd say, almost bemused.

“I hate it.” you’d retort, your frustration evident.

“Those are just numbers.” he would explain.

“Fuck numbers, bruh!” you’d respond, exasperated.

“USE THE THEOREMS, GOD DAMN IT!”

“WHAT THEOREMS!?!” you’d cry out in desperation.

In physical prowess, he was unmatched, while you... Uhh... “How many more laps? It’s been ages!” you’d complain during your grueling training sessions.

“It’s been 5 fucking minutes, y/n,” he’d respond, barely breaking a sweat.

You were expressive, a fucking drama queen. While he remained, well, Taehoon.

When you’d proclaim, “I love you!” your heart on your sleeve, he’d respond with a gruff, “Of course I feel the same, dummy.”

A small injury would elicit your dramatic reaction: “Ouch! That stings!” while he’d barely bat an eye and say, “Be careful next time, you dimwit.”

You might sob over a movie, your emotions spilled out loud, and he’d- “Boooo. 0 stars. Too many plot holes. ”

Sometimes, vulnerability hits you, “Ugly crying in my bed right now,” and he’d cut through the sadness with an - “Alright, who the fuck hurt you?”

Happiness flowed from you like a river when you were with him. “I’m so happy when I’m with you~” To which he’d retort, “Same-- Ugh! Will you wipe that grin off?”

When you voiced how something hurt you, he’d reply bluntly, “Sometimes we just have to suck it up.”

“Can’t you be a little more sensitive?” But he'd always try. “I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from.”

And in the wake of betrayal, you’d lament, “Aughh, I just didn’t expect her to backstab me like that, I’m so stupid!” He’d offer a rough kind of comfort, “Want me to kick her in the ass?”

But beneath all these differences—your gentleness against his toughness, your warmth melting through his cold exterior—there was balance.

There was love.

There was harmony.

If it wasn’t already clear, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

From time to time, Taehoon shows his vulnerable side. You have to remember, he's just a human being and he can't always keep up his tough guy persona.

He grapples with uncertainties, worried that without caution, he could distance himself from you and ultimately be left alone.

He carries a burden of past mistakes that weighs heavily on his shoulders. It's an injury he seldom recognizes, yet it impacts all his decisions in a subtle way.

The thought of his previous mistakes coming back to trouble him and harming his loved ones worries him deeply.

However, despite feeling clearly insecure, Taehoon, being Taehoon, decides to never address it openly.

These ideas, though, are simply possibilities. He always puts in the effort to avoid making mistakes.

You understand there’s more beneath the surface and always offer him gentle reassurance.

“Taehoon, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. I’m with you, no matter what.”

In his own way, he cherishes the balance you bring to his life.

After all, even a bad boy needs a good girl to keep him grounded.

As you look at him, with all his imperfections and flaws, you smile and say, “I love you.”

And he looks back at you with a rare, genuine smile and replies, “Yeah, I love you too, dummy.”

[morelikeravenbore]

Pandora's Book, part one

🔞 Sebastian Sallow x Book | PART ONE

Unhinged!Sebastian, objectophilia, sexual acts with a (sort of) inanimate object, an exploration of grief and acute loneliness. Seventh year, minor changes to canon.

Warning: explicit content. All characters 18+. Minors do not interact. Reader discretion is advised.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

A/N: Erm. I'm not even sure how to introduce this one, but I've had this idea in my head for months now and — well, brain rot. I KNOW it sounds like a crackfic — and it kind of is — but it's also an (unhinged and smutty) exploration of grief. This'll be a multipart story, probably three parts. I'll update as quickly as I can but I'm a turtle writer so please be patient with me. Thanks for reading, fellow unhinged bebes, I luv u.

Word count: 3k

[ao3 | wattpad] ✨ [HL fic masterlist]

The gate is opened, and the night

Rushes across the sky with a shout.

The gate is opened, and the evil

Comes pouring out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ . ⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

'Oh, shut up, would you?' Sebastian muttered as a particularly vocal book wailed directly in his ear.

Darkness surrounds you... your soul is lost, torn between light and dark, ripped to shreds by your own hand... darkness creeps, ever closer... ever closer...

'Yeah, yeah,' he muttered, pausing just long enough to cast a cursory glance at whichever accursed book was taunting him aloud this time. Ah, of course: Secrets of the Darkest Arts. That one had always been especially antagonistic toward him — even before he'd murdered his uncle. 

Rolling his eyes, he gave the offending book a swift two-fingered prod, sliding it deeper into the dark recesses of the shelf it was chained to. It shuddered with indignation — if a book was capable of such a thing — and cursed him so vehemently in Latin he would've been impressed had it not been calling his dead mother a swine.

Unphased, Sebastian scoffed and kept walking, the sound of his footsteps dampened between towering bookshelves as he made his way deeper into the deathly stillness of the library.

To another, perhaps less traumatised sort of person, the idea of inanimate objects giving voice might've been a bit unsettling, but Sebastian was quite used to books shouting at him by now; having spent more time in the Restricted Section than he suspected even the librarian had, their disembodied voices were sometimes the only interaction he got outside of his N.E.W.T classes — that is, if he didn't count Ominis Gaunt, whose insults were often far worse than anything a Dark Arts book could conjure, and who generally addressed him with an equal amount of spite and derision. In fact, Ominis was partly the reason why Sebastian spent so much time alone with a bunch of talking books to begin with: it was one thing for a book to berate you for all your past mistakes, but quite another when it came from your best friend. 

No, when it came to facing resentment, Sebastian would sooner bear the brunt of it from some gruesome edition of Magick Moste Evile than see it written clearly across another's face. In fact, there'd been a time when the incorporeal voices of those awful books had enticed him, called out to him like a siren song, drawn him in with promises of power and glory the likes of which he'd never dreamed of. And he, driven by his desperation to free his twin sister from the grips of a dark curse, had immersed himself in their age-browned pages so thoroughly he'd begun to hear their voices in his dreams.

But that was then. 

Now, those ghostly whispers, once a comfort to a boy who'd had very little of it in his life, were more like the incessant buzzing of insects, harsh and irritating. He was no longer interested in what secrets they had to offer him: Anne was dead, and nothing in any book would ever bring her back — of that, he was certain.

Stretching up to reach a high shelf, Sebastian slid another misplaced book into its correct place, feeling a sense of pride he seldom felt any more. Being voiceless, this particular book couldn't thank him for his tireless commitment to reorganising the forbidden library, but at least it couldn't offend him, either.

Having nowhere else to go after his classes and homework were done, he'd come to frequent this part of the castle so often that he'd appointed himself as an unofficial librarian of sorts. Judging by the general air of neglect about the place, old Scribner never bothered venturing this deep into the forbidden recesses of the library, so rather than tossing and turning in his bed, Sebastian spent his restless nights bringing some semblance of order to the forsaken space, dusting shelves, repairing book spines, and clearing out the infestations of spiders that'd taken up residence in the darkest corners. It didn't matter if every so often some ancient tome insulted his dead parents or taunted him for his lack of an intact soul, if it was incorrectly catalogued, missing a cover, or simply in need of a good clean, he would diligently set it right again and move on. It was a library, after all, albeit a nefarious one, and it deserved respect.

He was just turning a darkened corner, muttering about the lack of proper organisation and general disregard for the correct cataloguing procedures when something — no, someone — distinctly moaned his name.

Well, that was new.

Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks. In all the time he'd haunted these aisles, he'd never once come across another living soul — at least, none who wasn't made of paper and evil.

Calmly depositing his armful of books onto a nearby desk, he withdrew his wand from his pocket. Not much scared him any more — committing murder and raising the dead made one rather fearless in the face of anything less — but it was apprehension, not fear, that had him casting Homenum Revelio under his breath. This was his peaceful hideaway; he neither wanted to share it nor have it taken away by some meddlesome idiot.

But the spell resounded through the empty library, detecting no living presence besides his own. 

He was alone. 

Strange. Either Sebastian was officially going mad, or the books were becoming more sentient — for all their moaning, whining and idle threats of bodily harm, none had ever addressed him by name before.

He paused, held his breath, strained his ears.

There! — There it was again, a distinctly feminine voice calling out for him. 

s e b a s t i a n... i n e e d y o u...

Swearing under his breath, he followed the spectral call as best he could, his fingers trailing over the dusty shelves as he hurried down the aisle, leaving streaks through the grime that might lead him back should be lose his way.

As desensitised as he was to all thinges evile, some distant part of him wondered whether he might be better off ignoring the call of this one — he was surrounded by evil books, after all, and Sebastian wasn't stupid enough to forget that anything gained from cursed pages demanded something of the reader in return: a sacrifice, some sanity, a little piece of the soul. But the desperation in that voice, the pain — the longing...

'Say it again!'

Whimpering moans, a body squirming beneath his; the cute Ravenclaw had been giving him the eyes for weeks before he'd finally gotten her alone. 

'Say it again, or I won't give you what you want.'

Lustful eyes met his — pretty, but he couldn't recall their colour now; they all looked the same after a while. 

'I need you,' she whined, grinding her hips against his. 'Sebastian, I need you.'

He was sweating by the time he found it; tucked away in a small side chamber he hadn't gotten around to cleaning yet, and half-hidden behind piles of long-forgotten junk, the voice called to him from an innocuous-looking cabinet in the corner. Its glass panels were thick with dust, but the door opened easily, unobstructed by lock or magic.

Inside, the books weren't chained to their shelves or bound shut with leather straps, nor made of flesh or covered in suspicious-looking stains. They were just — books; plain old inanimate books.

All but one.

He wasn't exactly sure what first drew him to it. Instinct, he supposed, for it bore no title to pique his interest, and the cover was dull and plain, free of any macabre embellishments that usually made restricted books so alluring. But when his gaze settled upon it, the sudden, terrible ache at his separation made him sure this was the one.

Mine.

He snatched it up, clutched it to his chest — laboured breaths mingled with his; the book was panting as hard as he was, sweet, breathy whimpers against his chest — and when he felt a second heartbeat thumping against his own, knew he'd sooner die than ever let it go again.

s e b a s t i a n...

'Yes,' he growled, squeezing it tighter, his grip possessive.

i n e e d y o u...

'I know.'

w a i t e d s o l o n g...

Striding over to a small table against the far wall, he cleared a space amongst the ancient clutter and gently laid the precious tome atop it, stroking the cover with the adoring touch of a lover, tender and gentle. How supple it felt beneath his calloused palms, and strangely warm.

'I've got you,' he breathed, reverently tracing the hardcover edges with his thumbs, his eyes glazed and heavy.

p l e a s e, s e b a s t i a n...

'Please what?' He leaned down as if to whisper in an ear that wasn't there, his breath ghosting the surprisingly pristine pages.

t o u c h m e...

Loneliness had a way of changing people; extroverts became withdrawn, optimists turned cynical. But when that loneliness was the direct result of one's own failings, it withered anything pure that had ever bloomed in a person's psyche, leaving only a wasted garden in its place, a bed of rotting roots.

Once a boy of friendly disposition and bright curiosity, Sebastian's innate optimism had slowly eroded away after every loss that'd darkened his life: his parents, his sister, his uncle, each death a blow to his happiness from which he never recovered, rendering him withdrawn and bitter, a tree lopped well before its time. — But though he might’ve been emotionally damaged beyond repair, but there was certainly nothing wrong with his body.

Sebastian was tall for his age, handsome and broad-shouldered as his father had been, his muscular physique and toned forearms the result of several years playing as the Slytherin Beater. He wasn't ignorant to the way girls looked at him, nor oblivious to the effect he had on them when he flexed his arms or ruffled his hair. And despite his melancholy (or perhaps because of it, as one Slytherin girl had told him), he attracted intimate partners with surprising ease.

When he'd lost all sense of himself under the crushing weight of grief, it was sex that made him feel alive again.

Ever the resourceful Slytherin, he used this inherent charm to his full advantage, setting his sights on only the prettiest girls in his year level, the most unavailable, or the ones too shy to meet his gaze. He revelled in their blushes and giggles when he brushed his hand against theirs, their darkened pupils and parted lips when he finally had them pushed up against a wall or straddling his lap, and soon, Sebastian found himself addicted to the taste of soft lips against his hungry mouth, the flush of goosebumps beneath his demanding touch, slick thighs and flushed skin.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

Maybe he really had lost his mind.

'Touch you?' He swallowed roughly, fingering the notches of the spine. 'Where?'

s p r e a d m e... t o u c h m e...

With his entire body throbbing with need, Sebastian spread the book open to the middle pages. He ran a slow, measured finger down the length of the inner crease, imagining the soft hollow of a collarbone, the sensitive dip of an inner thigh. But to his immense surprise, his finger did not glide over the smooth paper as he was expecting, but sank in, disappearing into the spine as if he'd breached some concealed opening. Instead of meeting a paper barrier, or even the polished wooden table beneath it, he delved into a strangely wet, yet pleasantly warm depth.

He added another. Sebastian's fingers were thick, but the pages yielded easily to accommodate them, stretching and pulsing around him.

Something inside him roared to life.

'Is this what you want?'

Mingled breath, pretty skin. Snow was falling outside but her body burned against his.

'Yes! Yes, Sebastian, please!'

The resulting moan that fell from the book's lips — pages? — ignited a primal, aching need inside him. Musical and clear, and so deliciously lustful it made his knees tremble, it was the single most beautiful sound Sebastian had ever heard in his life: ethereal and otherworldly, pretty and bright — and yet, somehow, achingly familiar. He slid his fingers deeper, the slip of the unmarred pages like silken bliss against his skin, and when the voice whimpered in approval, he thought of the last girl he'd fucked under the Quidditch stands who'd made very similar noises with his fingers inside her. Sebastian smiled, remembering the way he'd had to hold her up when she came all over his hand, her knees buckling and her mouth agape in a silent scream of bliss.

'Oh, so this what you need, is it?'

Sebastian was grunting now, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he curled his fingers deeper into the pages' soft, wet void.

The empyreal voice only cried out in reply, but the tight, hot opening fluttered around his fingers in that additive way he knew proceeded a mind-shattering orgasm. He smiled again, half-feral with lust as he pawed at his own crotch, roughly stroking the evidence of his depravity that was straining against his breeches.

'I'm going to finger fuck you until you fall to pieces.' He picked up his pace, the veins in his forearm bulging with the exertion of the efforts, his hair falling over his eyes. 'Is that what you want? To be ruined?'

'Sebastian! Sebas— fuck!'

Frantically rocking hips, fingers slippery with desire.

'Do I make you feel good? Do I? — No, look at me when you come!'

Well past the point of no return, Sebastian watched the rhythmic pumping of this fingers with a singular intensity, marveling at the way they slid so easily into the mysterious depths of the book only to come out coated in slick. This was better than any real girl he'd even been with; this was all-encompassing, mind-numbing bliss, each glistening stroke soothing his burdened mind, mending the roots in his ruined garden.

This was magical.

It was some time before a cramp in his hand had Sebastian reluctantly peeling away from the books' lush center— but the pain of their separation was immediate and unbearable. Whimpering, he went immediately for his breeches, his stiff, slippery fingers struggling with his belt and fastenings until, finally, in a half-blind sort of daze, hot and throbbing, he stroked himself with a raw, gutteral cry. The table groaned under his weight as he leaned over it, mimicking the sounds that fell from his ruined throat.

i n e e d y o u...

His hips bucked.

With one knee propped on the table and a pant leg still tangled around one leg, the angle was awkward, uncomfortable, and if he weren't so utterly fucked out of his mind, he might’ve stopped to reconsider, well... everything.

But he couldn't stop. Now now.

Instead, mumbling stupid, unintelligible praises, he managed to angle himself in just the right way to swipe his weeping tip through the deliciously slick cease.

His mind went blank.

There was no warm body to hold onto, no hips to bruise nor neck to sink his teeth into, just an old splintery tabletop and smooth pages — and yet, if he closed his eyes, he could almost envision a trembling, sweat-slicked body beneath him, as warm and needy as any he'd had before.

If somebody were to walk in on him now, hovering half-naked over a book, painfully hard and inarticulate with lust, they'd be hard pressed to make him stop.

At this point, not even a team of Auror's could pry Sebastian cock away from these pages.

They'd have to crucio him to make him stop.

And even then...

Trembling with the effort of holding himself steady, he gingerly probed the spot his fingers had just been enjoying.

He slid in an inch. Then another.

The book shuddered.

His vision blurred.

i n e e d y o u...

'Sebastian, I need you!'

He fell forward, knees buckling, pleading, whimpering — then a voice, maybe his own, maybe the books', let out a garbled, broken cry as he sank into the sweet, tight abyss.

The world narrowed to the euphoric point of connection, and nothing else.

Pleasure, exquisite.

And nothing else.

And nothing else.

[part two coming soon]

[c4tgvtz]

How do you think the dorm heads [sorry, idk your character limit is] would react when it came time to send you to your own world? They can be dating or secretly pinning after you, whichever you pick. And thank you for reading =3

🕸 [I shall be web anon, love your writing]

➦Oh oh oh!! This'll be a fun one!! And thank you web anon!! I shall remember you >:))

I planned to write this one properly but it ended up too much for me, so you get a sorta hc list because fucking. Like 7 one shots in the one post is too much//

➳How the housewardens would react to MC going back to their world after pining for months

┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑

CW: None!

Characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Genre: Mild angst???

Note: Mmm this one’s a little sad

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

➳ 𝙍𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙎

You were… going home?

Riddle would look at you, confused when you first told him. As far as he was concerned, Night Raven College was your home now… but it seemed you didn’t feel the same.

When you tell him, you would be able to see his whole body grow tense, and his eyebrows furrow slightly. He’d look away, trying to process what was just said to him. After taking a breath, he’d look back and put on a smile. “That’s wonderful (MC), I’m glad you’ve finally found a way to return home.”

You could tell that something was off though. Riddle had been… watching you for some time, and though you probably wouldn’t notice, he had found himself falling for you, and those feelings were starting to get more and more intense… he planned to finally ask you out at the weekend but… now?…

You were going to a whole different world, quite literally a universe where riddle didn’t exist, and that terrified the housewarden! But it pushed his courage back down. He couldn’t ask you out now.

The entire time he’s with you he’d be trying to draw out conversation, in a pitiful attempt to spend more time by your side. He’d make you tea, he’d offer to go out for the day to hang out for one last time but… well you were leaving tomorrow. And there was no time for frolicking about in the rose maze or just having a last wander around the campus.

You would be gone.

The emptiness that the thought gave riddle would be one that he was saddled with for likely the rest of his life… at least he’d never forget you…

He’d make sure to personally accompany you to the mirror that led you home, and right before you go through, he’d pull you close in his arms in a desperate, tight hug. All he can muster up to say is: “I’ll miss you (MC)… please… never forget us… never forget me….”

And like that… you were gone.

➳ 𝙇𝙀𝙊𝙉𝘼 𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙍

Tch… good riddance.

When you tell Leona, he’d just spend a moment looking at you. He looks judgemental, as if finding you weird for leaving or something, but that’s just kinda his resting face.

Instead, he’s actually just trying to process what the fuck you just said to him. What, you were going back to ramshackle? Nah, you wouldn’t be this excited. So did you mean, back to where you came from… before NRC? The more he thought about it, the more he remembered. Oh yeah. That’s right…. You’re from a different world. Is that where you were going?

At first Leona didn’t really have much of a reaction, other than a shrug, but the more you started to talk about it, and the more excited you seemed… his tail started to flick behind him, a hint of a snarl pulled at his upper lip ever so slightly, and his little ears bent back.

It was a feeling he had felt before, yet when he felt it with you it made his blood boil. Jealousy. Jealousy for anyone who would try and take you from him in this other world.

…okay yeah. He had sort of developed a bit of a thing for you, it was no big deal. Or at least, it wasn’t until now. His heart genuinely ached in a way that he had never felt before, and for the first time, Leona Kingschollar felt… vulnerable but of course he couldn’t show that, so he simply shrugged it off.

“It’ll be good to see the back of ya.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, though it… felt wrong to say. But he couldn’t muster up the confidence for any sort of apology or retraction of his statement. And seeing the way your face fell a little made him want to tear you apart for taking what he said seriously. But there was no telling with Leona.

He made no attempt to force you to stay, but… in his mind, it was all he could think about. He hated sappy romance and all that bullshit, but there was a part of him that didn’t want you to be his partner, but his mate. And that’s how he knew that he liked you. It wasn’t superficial, it was instinctual and raw…

…he actually wanted you.

There would be a ceremony held for you leaving, and the entire time you’d be able to see and feel those harsh green eyes staring at you from the back of the crowd. It would make you uneasy the whole time, but you’d get on with it anyway.

When you get through, you’d realise that your bag felt heavier than it did when you left, and in it, when you open it, you’d find a glass bottle of sand with a letter attached.

It was from Leona…

The letter would talk about how he couldn’t bring himself to actually say goodbye and that he’ll miss you….. Ruggie wrote it for him after listening to him rant…

At least he does actually care…

➳ 𝘼𝙕𝙐𝙇 𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙊

You… you can’t leave!

Upon hearing the news, Azul would visibly panic, and immediately start trying to convince you out of it before… realising that his own emotions were slipping through. He’d correct himself, fixing his jacket and clearing his throat. “…Apologies.” Hed hum solemnly. “I wish you the best.” His voice was weirdly empty.

It would be easy to tell that he’s upset. When Azul’s in love, he has very little control over what his mind does, and that’s why he gets so distressed by it, it throws a massive wrench in the gears of his mind and messes with everything, but… he couldn’t just stop it.

Standing with you, alone in the Octavinelle lounge, you’d see him look away as he tries to discern his feelings, figuring out what he should show and what he shouldn’t, but it was too late. You had already seen how he freaked out at just the notion of you leaving, so you put your hand on his shoulder as an attempt to comfort him, and at first he flinches, not expecting the contact, but quickly relaxes and just looks at you.

There’s no way he could tell you. Not now. Not ever… it was his secret and it’ll remain that way. Or at least, he thought so. He seemed to have absolutely no idea that it was incredibly obvious he was head over heels for you. Everyone could see it. You could see it. But no one had the heart to tell Azul that his massive crush on the prefect was painfully clear.

Feeling bad for him, you’d take up his offer to spend the day with him, in which he tries his best to “subtly” convince you to stay. Usually, Azul was a master of persuasion, and just being suave in general. But now that desperation was starting to seep into the housewarden’s actions, he didn’t seem as good at it as he should be. Even he was noticing…

In spending the day with him, he’d give you a proper tour of Octavinelle (as if you don’t already know it inside out), play a few games of chess, and have a meal together at the lounge before the night began to roll in. He was running out of time to convince you, but was also… slowly coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t see you again. It stung, yeah… but things change, and after his overblot, he was starting to accept that more.

His goodbye would be where he breaks, hugging you to see you off, but you’d find that he wouldn’t let go, and after just a moment… he began to cry. “Please… I need to… I…” his words would barely be choked out behind his sobs, before he peels himself back and with his whole body trembling, he’d confess. “I need to tell you… that.. t-that… I… I love you, (MC)…”

Putting a hand up to cup his cheek, you smile, and he looks back at you, terrified, so scared that you’ll make fun of him or berate him for feeling such a way, but rather, you lean in and gently kiss him on the forehead. He stops crying and just. Stares at you as you tell him you love him too, and then leave… for the last time…

His love was returned, yet his lover would never return themselves… so that was it huh?…

➳ 𝙆𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙈 𝘼𝙇-𝘼𝙎𝙄𝙈

T-take me with you!!

Out of everyone, Kalim would be the most emotionally distraught of them all. When you first tell him, he’d gasp and take your hands in his own, practically jumping off the ground. “You’re going home!?” He would sound more excited than you actually were to return. “That’s great (MC)!! You’ve been trying for so long I’m so glad you can finally see all your family and friends again!” For most people, talk like that would appear insincere or sarcastic, but Kalim was just very vocal with his thoughts.

He’d spend the day with you, asking about what your home was like and learning about you with a bright smile the whole time. Though the whole time, something would feel… off, as if he was missing something, but you had explained that you were returning to your own world, so… maybe he was just happy for you?

“I can’t wait to come with you some time!! You need to come back and visit!” He’d chirp while eating lunch with you. And that’s when it hit you. He didn’t realise it was a one-way, one-off trip… it would take a lot to tell him, but after a moment of silence, you’d pipe up and manage to say.

You’d watch as his face slowly falls as you speak, to confusion. “What?” It sounded so genuine, like he didn’t understand why you couldn’t return. “But… is… is it not like a mirror?… like all the other portals?…” his loud, piercing voice began to grow quiet as his expression melted from confusion to sadness. You shake your head.

He seriously takes a moment after that, and it seems like this is the most he’d ever thought about anything between the whole duration of your stay here. And the entire time he was just silent. It even attracted a few gazes from others in the cafeteria.

“So I… won’t see you again?” His voice was empty and shaky, and it seemed like a light had left his eyes as he looked back up to you, his food now completely forgotten. You shake your head again, and as if that were a cue, Kalim’s eyes began to tear up and his bottom lip quivered.

“You… can’t go…” Usually, when Kalim cried, it was loud and snotty and a nightmare to deal with… but this? This was different, his voice was quiet, a wavering whisper, and his body seemed to shake with fear. He put a hand out on the table, palm facing up. Understanding, you’d put your hand in his and try to give a reassuring smile, but he’d just grab your hand a shakily lower his head.

Every movement looked like it was laboured, as he slowly sat up and raised your hand to his face gingerly, and kissed the back of your hand. He’d look into your eyes, desperation in his own. “Please… I want to go with you… but I can’t leave my own family and friends…” and you’d nod, understanding the predicament. You didn’t particularly want to go either, with how close you had gotten with everyone here.

When the next day rolled around and you had to finally say goodbye, kalim would run up to you, crying far harder than he had been before, and you’d just hold him and rest your head on his shoulder as he cries and cries. When he eventually does calm down, you let go and turn to leave, but he says one more thing before you do:

“Hey! (MC)! Tell people in your world about us! A-and I love you!”

➳ 𝙑𝙄𝙇 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙀𝙉𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙏

Oh… I had forgotten about that…

Vil would seem… thoughtful, about the whole situation when you tell him. At first it would seem like he doesn’t believe you at all, but then you’d explain exactly how Crowley managed to find you a way home and he’d feel his heart sink.

So he was loosing you?… he’d just stare off into the distance for a minute before sighing and smiling. “That’s wonderful… though it’s a shame that twisted wonderland will be loosing such a beauty…” he’d raise his hand to brush across your cheek, and though that smile would remain on his face, the pain behind his lilac eyes would be easy to spot.

He’d leave you for the day to get your things ready, though while you’re gone, things would be starting to go to shit in Pomefiore.

Vil would end up stressed and upset, causing him to make rash decisions and lash out at his dorm members, leading Rook to take over in running the dorm while a few of the other juniors helped to calm the housewarden down. After about an hour of that chaos, Vil decided that— if he’s never going to see you again, you’d absolutely need something to remember him by.

Immediately, he’d start to try to put together a gift, a way of showing his love at the last minute and hoping that it would last. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it would make you regret leaving, and make everything harder for you, but it was a thought that he shook off. He couldn’t bring himself to dwell on that too much.

Going through his stuff, he’d manage to find a few things he wanted to give you: a beautiful ornate necklace, one with golden charms going down it and a small fake vial of purple liquid as the main charm, a full bottle of his favourite perfume, and a book. It was a book he had memorised inside an out, though it was very dear to him. It was a book of poison recipes.

His only hope was that all of this was enough of a goodbye for you… he put it all in a box, wrapping it neatly and sticking a red bow on the top corner. It looked beautiful, as was customary for a gift from Vil Shoenheit.

He’d spend a while wondering to himself if he should just give it to you and wish you well, or also tell you his feelings. After deliberating that for a while, he decided on a compromise. A love letter would do nicely… So with that in mind, he spent the rest of the night writing out his feelings to you the best he could.

Truth be told, he had always been intrigued by you, but it was only now that you were leaving did he realise just how much he… liked you. Like didn’t quite cut it… no he loved you… and that scared him honestly, which was why he had never even really processed that he did until now, when you were slipping from his reach. He knew there was no way to convince you to stay or to go with you… so this would be his last grand gesture to you.

The day had came. It was pretty late now, and you had spent the whole day saying goodbye to everyone, but Vil was last, and instead of finding him, it was him that came to you, with a beautifully wrapped box in his hands, and a small envelope on top. “Don’t open it all until you’re home safe.” He’d sigh, an odd, unfamiliar affection in his voice. “This is the last time I’ll get to see you…” he sounded regretful as he spoke, leaning in to plant a kiss against your cheek. “But I promise you, it won’t be the last I think of you.”

“I just know you’ll make your world far more beautiful when you’re back…”

➳ 𝙄𝘿𝙄𝘼 𝙎𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝘿

If you’re looking for a reaction, you’re not getting one…

“Y-you really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

The first words Idia said after you told him you were leaving were… jarring. You look at him, confused and a little hurt, but he seems more defensive than anything else. “Look I know you’re j-just trying to embarrass me! Or get me to act all sappy towards you! It’s not happening.” He’d cross his arms and turn away.

Hurt, that one of your good friends wouldn’t believe you on some of the biggest news of your life, you’d leave. But Idia wasn’t trying to be mean, or defensive… he just didn’t want to believe it.

After being with you for so long he had quickly grown to love you. You were the only person other than other that was able to put up with him. You were sweet and kind and pretty and the perfect partner for him… but he didn’t deserve you, you were far too good for him in his mind.

Looking in the mirror, he’d sigh. But that’s when news would get to him… other people were talking about you going home… what? Idia couldn’t believe it. It was real?… you weren’t lying?… now he felt even worse. His stomach turned and his heart dropped straight down into it, and all he could do was just sit on his bed and stare at the wall.

Is this what everything had came to? He had tried to make the right choices! He was sure that he was on the path to the good ending! All the signs were there, and it even seemed like you were starting to show interest in him!…

…no you weren’t. He was being delusional. At least that’s what he told himself. Why would someone like you ever fall for him? He was a complete shut in, an asshole, ignorant, and now? Now he had personally hurt you. What was he worth anyway.

Lying on his bed, he pulled his legs up to his chest, tears pricking his eyes and the ends of his hair flicking red. Of course this wasn’t the good ending, he was a total screw up. This was the worst ending possible, it was so bad that… he had forgotten it was one he could get… you were leaving forever… game over I guess…

The rest of his day would be spent alone, crying in his bed. He’d sent Ortho away to go… do whatever… as long as he wasn’t near him to see his spiral, because things only got worse from there. He couldn’t even bring himself to eat anything for dinner.

Ortho, though he was concerned, wanted to respect Idia’s wishes, so he stayed out of their room until it was late at night and Idia was asleep. It was a good thing he had no idea that he had cried so hard he had sort of just… passed out…

You were standing at the portal. The next day had came, but Idia hadn’t. You wanted to go and say goodbye to him, but time was running out and the portal would close if you weren’t through fast enough. So… no goodbye…

Idia still hadn’t left his room. He didn’t plan to. What’s the point in forming bonds if they always break…

➳ 𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙀𝙐𝙎 𝘿𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙄𝘼

Leaving?… so soon?

To Malleus, your departure from the school would come as quite the surprise. Though he himself helped Headmage Crowley to find you a way home, he never expected it to be so soon. It had only been about a year, and in the grand scheme of Malleus’s lifetime? That was nothing. To him, it felt like you had only been here a few days.

You were an odd little child of man. He had never really known where you had came from, nor had anyone else, but what he did know was that he didn’t want you to return. He wanted to study you more, and keep you close. He had grown possessive, though you were just friends.

He had strong feelings towards you, which was why he looked so hurt when you told him you were leaving. He wasn’t the only one upset, but it felt like it to him. He tried to brush it off, after all, you were just some human that would barely live a fraction of his lifespan… yet… it was hard to think of you that way.

He’d put his hand on your shoulder and look at you with a rather harsh expression across his sharp features. “I don’t want you to go.” He’d state plainly, making you shift under his gaze and step back. You’d tell him that you’d like to stay, but you have a life away from here that you’d like to get back to. His expression would stay the same.

Being a dragon in love was complicated. Especially if the person you were in love with wasn’t also a dragon or fae of any kind. If that was the case, they saw you as part of a hoard, something beautiful and precious that only belonged to them, and that they must protect with their life.

You were that person to Malleus.

After a decently confusing and… annoying conversation about how you had to return home, Malleus let up and retuned go Diasomnia to let you do your weird human things. He didn’t really know what you were up to.

As he often did whenever Malleus had any grievances, Lilia seemed to show up out of the blue to talk to the housewarden. He asked him what had happened and he relayed the conversation you had had with him. He seemed to understand what he was going through, and gave him the best advice he could:

“Malleus, many people who you care about are going to walk through your life, it’s your job to make the most of their presence while you can, spend as much time as you can with them before they go. I can promise you, it’ll be worth it.”

So he took that to heart, and at the crack of morning the next day, Malleus was at the door of ramshackle, looking for you.

When you answer he insisted that you spend the day with him before you had to leave, and that you did. He helped to pack up the last of your things and mostly followed you around for the rest of the day until it came to your departure.

“Farewell, (MC). May we meet again in another walk of life… my love…”