#Are floating shelves still in style?

[circeyoru]

The Raven’s Deer

[Alastor x Zestial’s Little sibling!Reader]

Part 1 (here) — Part 2

Zestial speaks in [archaic dialect redolent of early modern English], so something like Shakespearean English and you speak that same

Where as Zestial is a bat-like demon, you’re a raven demon with two pairs of retractable black feathered wings on your back. Your appearance was similar to that of an angel, but it was more of a mocking to them since you have an inky substance that would float around you

Different to Zestial who instills fear with just a look and/or his appearance, you tone it down and is arguably the more approachable of the two. Though others can’t see this as a free pass to bully you as you were more prone to violence than Zestial too

You do speak ‘funny’ as the modern sinners would whisper and sometimes try to instantly translate your words with their phones, especially those that were unlucky enough to meet your shopping requirements. But you can speak ‘normally’ in a way that everyone understands. You just don’t to watch them struggle more

Your big brother and you rule over your batch of souls in a small district that you two share and guard, your brother overseeing a mansion while you oversee the surrounding forest. Your people were your silent servants with powers that were useful to you and have signed contracts with you, soul-binding or otherwise

Being as old (do NOT use that word since you died young) ancient as you were, you’ve seen your fair share of the rise and fall of overlords. Though not one as interesting as Alastor. At first, you were merely enjoying some wine while you read whatever was in your collection. Then you heard screams of agony and pain in your room. You were positive there was no one being tortured at the moment, so where did it come from?

The radio had come to life on a shelve of yours. You twitched your fingers, bringing the radio closer to you, the screams were indeed from the device before you. But you never turned it on and this was the first time you heard such music. You left it playing to see when it would stop, to your delight, it never did

Well, until the culprit behind such an act came forward. The screams died down a bit, but not entirely gone as he made his name known. “Greetings, sinners and demons of Hell! I am Alastor, The Radio Demon!”

“Fitting.” You mumbled out as you listened, from then on, you’d leave the radio playing. Sometimes Alastor was hosting and other times it was those screams. You even talked about it with Zestial, expressing your fascination to this new demon

Your older brother, growing curious and intrigued, asked for Carmilla to host a meeting to see who were still surviving. As luck would have it, it was the day after the extermination. The pair of you were positive Alastor had been safe and alive since he was having a wonderful time broadcasting, all the while Carmilla, Zestial, and you listened and done your own activities in your safe underground room deep within the forest

Your ravens had been the ones to collect the angelic weapons for Carmilla to experiment and create her weapons, even perfecting her fighting style. Since you were more physical and violent than Zestial, you happily trained with Carmilla, even helping her. In exchange, she made sure your wings were even deadier than before, now having angelic coat. Your wings were your weapons

The meeting was uneventful to say the least, Zestial and you didn’t need it to see what Overlord was alive since Zestial could name every demon behind the scream on the radio. See, he was the one with more information and a nack for those things. The pair of you really do complete each other

What caught your interest (and maybe slight fancy) was Alastor. You and Zestial arrived right behind Carmilla and took your seats side by side, ignoring all the Overlords you passed by. Their aura and presence were lacking to say the least, it was no wonder Alastor could overthrow these bunch. You noticed Husk and Niffty missing though

The formal meeting between you and alastor came only when you were delivering some demon bodies to Cannibal Town. You dropped by where Rosie would be without checking if she had company, so you made quite an impression

Alastor blinked with his head tilted as Rosie suddenly got up from her seat and opened one of the bigger windows. Then you appeared, your wings undercovering from the cocoon you wrapped yourself around to enter through the window without breaking it. “Oh, so nice to see you!” Rosie hugged you, careful to avoid your wings even after you shifting it away from her. You returned the sentiment. “I always told you there’s no need to drop bodies for my people.”

“T wast a valorous way to ex’rcise. (It was a good way to exercise)” You waved it off. “Thy people w’re joyous to seeth me anyways, so I’m m’re than joyous to giveth those folk a valorous meal. (Your people were happy to see me anyways, so I’m more than happy to give them a good meal)”

“Oh, where are my manners? Here, allow me to introduce you to our rising Overlord friend.” Rosie guided you over to where Alastor was seat, he immediately got up when you neared. “This is Alastor, The Radio Demon, I’m should you’ve heard. And this is The Nightmare Raven.”

“Quite a pleasure to be meeting such a legend, I’ve heard tales of you!” Alastor bowed a bit, then taking your hand to kiss it. “Never in my weirdest dreams would I think we’d be meeting so causally, my dear.”

“Charm’d I’m sure. It’s a pleasure to beest meeting thee as well. Thy radio did broadcast given thee quite the nameth, broth’r and I has’t been listening and wast ent’rtain’d. (Charmed I’m sure. It’s a pleasure to be meeting you as well. Your radio broadcast given you quite the name, brother and I have been listening and was entertained)” You smiled back

Turns out, you and Alastor hit it off quite well and enjoyed your time well enough that Alastor started acting more intimate behind closed doors. A relationship even Zestial didn’t mind but he sure as hell threatened Alastor a bad time if your heart was broken in any way, shape, or form. Alastor swore, “I’d never leave such a beauty and terror alone. Why, I’d think your lovely sibling is worthy of all things!”

LIAR

The first year of his disappearance, you thought he was busy with a human contract up above. But there was none. The second year, you thought he was perhaps taking a break from interacting with you since you were a bit more clingy than he’d like. The third year, you thought an exterminator got to him. The fourth year, you accepted his disappearance and broke down. The fifth year, you were suddenly active when you caught wind that Husk and Niffty were alive but still bound by contracts, you searched high and low, but no Alastor. Not even his radio played new screams. The sixth year, Zestial comforted you and suggested you drop your interest in Alastor. The seventh year, you locked yourself in your forest. Only leaving and observing the city by your ravens

Alastor flinched when Zestial spoke of you, he eyed the raven on the ancient Overlord’s shoulder, it was on the side away from him, so he was a bit grateful. Perhaps it was a luck thing that you weren’t joining the meeting and Zestial came in your place with the raven. He did feel a shiver when Zestial spoke of your state, how you were not yourself and more drawn back and distant

He honestly never expected to leave for so long. 7 years, 7 exterminations. The times after the two of you met, both of you were tolerant of the other under your shared interest and use of the other. It was merely beneficial, like business partners. Yet he found himself more adaored by you as time passed. He had planned to confess and solidify the relationship between you two, but then came his disappearance

“May I see the darling?” Alastor asked, begged. He needed to make things right

Before Zestial could answer, or perhaps he was waiting for your cue, the raven on his shoulder screamed loudly, motioning its head as if to peck at Alastor. Then came Zestial’s cold tone, different from the previous carefree one when he greeted Alastor. “I believeth mine own sibling hast nay w’rds ‘r timeth to spareth f’r thee, Alastor. (I believe my sibling has no words or time to spare for you, Alastor)”

Note: Yes. I took a break from the requests. But you can still send your ideas for me to write. It's just taking time for me to come up with ideas on how to write it~ I love reading and writing some of your interesting and silly ideas~ Keep them coming!

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[fukcnoplease]

Things always go wrong Pt 4

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt5

They had been in a dark tunnel for a long time before the batcar finally slowed down. Signal had been typing at his forearm while it projected something for nearly the entire drive. Dani noticed the light signaling the end of the tunnel and stopped breathing.

The tunnel opened up into a massive cave, covered floor to ceiling  in towering stalactites and stalagmites. Everywhere except the road that seemed to float in the middle of it all. 

As they went deeper, platforms started to emerge from the walls. Dani stared at the cars, and even a few planes, that sat on the massive shelves. If they had looked smaller she wouldve thought they were toys on display. Eventually they stopped in the center of a massive open room. Was it a room if the walls and ceiling were a cave? And if you could park a car in it and still have massive open space? Maybe this was just a fancy garage.

Storage systems were tucked away on the floating platforms and there was a giant computer system at the other end of the cave. Tucker would have fainted. There was a pang of something from her core, worry maybe. Dani ignored it as she unbuckled Danny and pulled him out of the car, this time letting Signal help. He looked worse, his skin looked gray. Too gray. She was scared too much movement would make it worse.

Dani was exhausted too. She had enough ectoplasm to transform but it had taken a toll on her and she hadnt turned back yet. She wanted to lay down and sleep, maybe punch something, but she kept that to herself. Danny needed her right now. 

She tried to maneuver him into a more comfortable position but before she was comfortable she felt Danny be lifted off her. Panicking, she spun and threw a hard punch. Batman grunted and took a few steps back, pulling away from her. With Danny still in his arms.

It was surprising enough that he had stayed standing after taking a punch from Dani but she almost lost it when he moved away with Danny. He was carrying him princess style, which would have been funny if she wasnt so horrified. 

“Give him back.” She growled and Batman didnt react.

“I can carry him.” Without waiting for a reply he walked towards what looked like metal cone shaped holes in the wall. Dani leapt for him, this time she really was going to hurt him. 

“Wait, you piece of shit! Give him back!” Dani cried as she ran after the big bat. Her vulgarities had the intended effect and Batman turned to look at her, surprised as she leapt at him. 

She was fast but just as she got her hands on Danny Batman stepped into the metal cone. Dani was enveloped in bright light and before she could even register what was happening they were in a different metal cone facing into a giant metal room. 

She didnt have time to take in her new surroundings before she heard Danny gurgle. He shuddered in Batman's arms and his arms raised to grasp around his chest as he blinked his eyes open. Dani froze when she saw his eyes were entirely green, no iris or pupil, and didnt react in time to stop Danny from thrusting the palm of his hand at Batman’s face. He tumbled out of the man’s arms and landed in a heap on the floor. 

He made another gurgling sound and then threw up ectoplasm all over the floor. Dani was by his side in an instant and tried to soothe him. He whipped his hands out at her and she caught his wrists. Dani felt her core scream as she held Danny back from hitting her. Why was he attacking her? This wasnt a normal injured Danny reaction. He shook violently and she whispered whatever she could think of to help calm him down. He was okay, they were safe, they were okay. As the shaking lessened into trembles he started crying, great big drops of green ectoplasm fell from his glowing eyes. Dani dropped his arms and pulled him into a hug. She felt herself spiral. She had no idea what to do. They had no way to get to Frostbite until Danny was better but she had no idea if he WOULD get better. This had never happened before. She hadn't been alive long and it hit her all at once how little she knew. 

His core stuttered in a broken rhythm when she tried to harmonize with him and she gripped him tighter. She had a sudden understanding of why Danny had always been so worried about sending her off on her own.

“We need to get him to the medical center.” Batman said and Dani looked up at him. She had forgotten he had been standing there and he was rubbing his jaw where he had been hit. Rage bloomed in her chest and she glared at him. She should kill him for what he had done. That thought alone stuttered her brain into silence.

He hadn't done anything. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know this would happen. She didn't know either. She felt like she didn't know anything at all.

“No. He needs to rest. There isnt anything you can do for him anyways.” She said with venom. Batman stared at her and frowned. This she did know. There was no way they knew anything about ghosts. If they knew they were ghosts there was no way they would have saved them from the GIW. There was no way they had anything that could help them. That could help Danny.

“We can help to the best of our ability. We can give basic first aid and run tests to find out what is wrong. As soon as we know-” Batman said. Dani growled at him and he scowled as he was cut off, straightening his back to look bigger.

“You don't need to know anything. I am telling you that you can't help. What he needs is a bed and to be left alone.” Dani said, anger growing. Batman furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak on for a different voice to interject.

“Let them rest.” The interjector said. She was a tall and muscular woman with knee high boots and what looked like an armored bathing suit. Dani scrunched her face at the fashion choices and the glowing yellow lasso at her side. Ignoring those though, she was beautiful. Wavy dark hair and a striking face that was gentle in comparison to her defined muscles.

“Wonder woman.” Batman growled. Dani couldn't tell if he was being threatening or if he was just upset at being interrupted. Dani didn't really care. A part of her, pretty big part, enjoyed watching him be told what to do.

“I understand your concern, Batman, and I sympathize with it. The scene we just saw is concerning but if the information Signal sent us is to be believed then perhaps we should let them rest.” She let Batman take a breath before she turned to Danny and smiled. “Is there anything we could help you with? Your friend seems injured and we would like to help to the best of our abilities.” 

Dani stared at her. She didn't really know what to say but she pulled the heaving Danny closer and shook her head.

“I can… I can handle it. He just needs a bed. And to be alone.” she said. Under the maternal gaze of Wonder woman Dani felt tiny, like a small kid who had been found alone. It was jarring to have such a caring and maternal look aimed at her. The woman just nodded at her and motioned for Dani to follow. Batman made his patented ‘hn’ sound and went off in another direction and Dani sat there, frightened and out of her depth. She didn't want to move. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up back in Amity, laughing on Sam’s bed while Danny lost miserably at smash.

“Don't worry, I can show you to an empty guest room and once your friend is settled I can show you around the watchtower.” Wonder Woman said. Dani nodded, she felt numb as she stood up, lifting Danny off the floor with her. He was awkwardly shifted so she was holding his legs and he was bent over one of her shoulders but it worked and she just hoped she didn't have to walk too far. At some point Danny had passed out again and while Dani didn't like it, it was probably more comfortable for him right now.

Thankfully Wonder Woman didn't take her too far down one of the corridors that split off the big room they were just in. She pressed a button on the wall and a door slid into the wall like a sci-fi show. Danny would have loved this place if he was awake to see it. Whatever this place was. Waves of fear suddenly crashed into her as she realized she had no idea where they were. A bunker? A secure facility? Were they even in America anymore?

Dani’s core shuddered and she took a deep breath. She could think about that when she wasn't carrying an unconscious potentially dying Danny. 

She walked past Wonder Woman and into the room. There was a bed to the left of the door, a desk at the end of the small room and some American looking outlets but nothing much else. Dani dumped her ‘ambassador’ on to the bed unceremoniously. He grunted and she felt a little bad but she made up for it by tossing the covers over him equally unceremoniously. They could laugh about it when he woke up. Because he would wake up. She would make sure of it.

“Would you like for me to show you around? I can show you where the cafeteria and bathrooms are.” Wonder woman offered, hitting Dani with that disarming maternal smile again. Dani looked between her and Danny before shaking her head. She wasn't going to leave him alone. Not in an unfamiliar, potential government facility with essentially government officials. 

“No thank you.” Dani said and Wonder woman gave a heartbreaking look of concern and care and Dani wanted to be swallowed by the earth. “Maybe later?” she said and Wonder woman gave her a gentle smile and nod.

“If you need anything there should always be someone just down the hall.” The woman said, pointing further down the hall and away from the only place in the building that Dani was familiar with. Maybe it was just her but the corridor looked far darker than it did just a few minutes ago but she nodded regardless. Wonder Woman gave one last smile before closing the door.

Dani slid down the side of the bed and onto the floor. She felt like there was so much going on that her brain had just gone blank. Like an overheated computer.

Time passed as she stared at the door and leaned against the metal frame of the bed. She didn't know how much time passed and she didn't really care. She wanted to just sit there for as long as she could. Maybe if she just waited Danny would get better. Or someone would come help them. Maybe Jazz would come storming through that door and she would get a great big hug and it would all be ok.

Something started buzzing and Dani jumped. She felt the vibrations again and she looked at the bed, Danny laying there still and breathing, as the bed vibrated. It took a few too many seconds for Dani to realize it was coming from the backpack still on Danny’s back. Careful she rolled Danny on to his side, facing him away from her, as she unzipped the bag and took out the ringing phone. 

Eco-Terrorist was calling. A picture of Sam Manson flipping off the camera filling the screen as the device buzzed. Dani swiped to pick up and Sam’s face popped up. It made Dani jump, though Sam ignored it.

“Dani? Where is Danny? Is he okay? Where are you?” Sam asked, her voice stern but full of worry and Dani almost started crying. 

“I-I don't know.” Dani said. She felt her voice wobble and she took a deep breath to center herself. Just like Jazz had taught her. Just like she had so many times before.

“What do you mean? Are you okay?” Sam watched Dani take some more calming breaths and frowned, “Tucker and I just got to Gotham. We are heading to my apartment now. Do you think you can meet us there if I send you the address?” She kept her voice gentle as she asked and Dani wiped her eyes.

“I don't know. We got chased into Gotham and cornered in an alley. Danny… Danny collapsed and I didnt know what to do. Some of the bat people showed up and helped and then batman showed up and then he said he would help and i didnt know what to do and I followed him and I know you aren't supposed to follow strangers, of course I know, I travel all the time! But he took us through a portal or something and Danny freaked out and now I don't know where we are but there was another lady and she helped and-” Dani felt tears on her cheeks but she just kept talking until Sam cut her off.

“Batman took you somewhere?” Sam asked and before Dani could nod she heard Tucker scream: “BATMAN TOOK YOU!?” and she flinched away from the phone. There was a smack and some cursing and Dani could have almost laughed. If it wasn't for the groan and rustle as Danny moved to look at the phone in Dani’s hands.

“Danny?” she whispered but the boy didn’t respond. His eyes weren't all green anymore, now just the irises glowed, but they weren't focusing on anything.

“Is that Danny? Is he alright?” Sam asked over the phone and Danny moved again. His core let out an uneven shudder and he groaned in pain, falling back onto the bed. He was facing Dani now but his eyes were scrunched closed and he was clutching his chest. 

“Hello? Is everything ok?” Sam asked, her voice more concerned than it was before and Dani snapped back to the video call, blinking.

“Uhm, I think- I think he hurt his core but I-I dont know how?” Dani said and turned back to watch Danny as he tried to breathe through whatever pain he was dealing with. 

“Hey!” Sam called and both of the halfas turned their gaze to the phone, “We can handle that, ok? If you can get him to my apartment we have the resources to help. Can you do that?”

Dani nodded but frowned.

“I can try, but Batman really didn't want to let Danny be. I don't know if I can convince him to let us leave.”

“Is there anyone else you can ask? Can you convince someone else to let you leave?” Sam asked and Dani hummed. There was Wonder Woman and she seemed more than willing to help. There was also whoever was just down the hall but that was a gamble. Maybe if she asked for help finding Wonder Woman? Dani worked through the possibilities in her head and Sam gave a small smile. 

“Look, we have to go. I need to call Jazz and update her but if anything changes text me or Tucker and if things go south call me, ok?” Sam said. Dani nodded and Sam waved bye before hanging up. Thoughts and plans raced through Dani’s head as she tried to figure out what to do. She could play up the young child act if the person seemed kind enough or lean into the royalty act if they looked gullible enough. Maybe she could even use the ancient ghost trick if the child act didn't work.

Dani took a deep breath and stood up. Danny needed help fast and spending too much time building up plans, or courage, was not something she could afford. She turned and clicked the button on the wall, the door sliding open.

The hallway stretched to her left and right and looked even darker now that wonder woman wasn't there. Dani took a shaky breath and stepped out. She moved to keep going but glanced back one last time to check on Danny. He had closed his eyes again and his breathing had evened out. She closed the door and hoped no one would try anything while she was gone. He would be fine.

The dark corridor didn't seem as oppressive now that she was actually walking through it but she still rushed. The corridor ended in another open room, this one more of a lounge with couches and seating a few low tables and a giant window for one wall.

A window that opened to the massive expanse of space. Earth a curved globe below her. 

Holy shit.

They were in space. They weren't in America. They were on a giant space station. In space. Dani almost choked as she stared into the endless array of stars. Her legs almost gave out as her thoughts crashed into another. They were in space. How would they get home? How would they get to Gotham? How had she not noticed? No wonder Batman had been so confident about the GIW not finding them. How could anyone find them? Danny would be ecstatic. Danny would be heartbroken. He would have no recollection of being in space but he still would have been there.

Dani had never been to space before. Dani had heard of how he had flown up to the edge of the earth's atmosphere when he had had a particularly bad day. He said it had been the most beautiful view he had ever seen.

Dani watched the cool colors of the earth swirl below her and the sparkling blanket of stars beyond that. It was beautiful, and she wondered if Danny would have been able to tell her about the constellations. She wanted to hear him talk again. Bright and excited and way too fast to understand. 

“Are you lost?” A voice said and she turned to see a man dressed in blue and red with a big S on his chest. He was big, as big as batman and had a big cape hanging from his shoulders.

“Do you know where Wonder Woman is?” She asked, completely monotone. The man stared at her in surprise. 

“No… but I can find her for you. Do you need her for something? Are you ok?” He asked, looking concerned as he approached her. He kind of reminded her of a big bear. Dangerous, sure, but also friend-shaped.

“I… I need to go home?” she said. It wasn't supposed to be a question. The shock of being in space had factory reset Dani’s brain and she felt eerily calm. Her emotions barely registered as she watched the man try and figure out what was going on.

“I see. Do you.. Know why you’re here by any chance?” He asked and Dani nodded solemnly.

“Batman kidnapped me.” She said. Her core hummed in amusement as she watched the man splutter and struggle to find something to say to that.

“Are- Is he- Are you his newest ward?” The caped man asked and Dani stared at him. Now equally confused.

“No?” Dani said, “Sorry, does he normally kidnap kids?” 

“What? No! Well, not usually?” The man fumbled to explain and Dani was suddenly struck by how casually Batman had gotten them in his car and dragged them into, not just his cave, but also an entire space station.

“Holy shit,” Dani said, “I'm in a secondary location.”

~~

Helloooo This week has been actually awful so Im sorry if the quality has gone down hill :/ I probably wont be able to post anything for a while because so much has been happening and I havent been able to sit down and write much

But Im gonna do my best ! And I hope you still enjoy!!

[yellowjestertfs]

The Billionaires secret

“Hi there. Find what what you were looking for?” I ask in my customary upbeat yet soul-dead customer service voice.

“I think so. Going to give this one a try.” She says handing me a copy of a book called The Billionaire’s Secret from the romance section. I can see why she picked it, on the cover a man in a suit lay on a bed with the buttons of his dress shirt undone showing off his impressive six-pack and strong hairless chest. Brownish red eyes smolder seductively outwards from a masculine face. High cheekbones, soft lips, and a wide square jaw adorned with black stubble that connects to a short-styled head of black hair.

“I’m Bridget by the way,” she says, obviously a bit embarrassed to see me eying up the cover. “Oh, and this is Dan.” She says gesturing at the man standing a few paces away, engrossed by some mobile game on his phone. 

“Nice to meet you, Bridget.” I scan the book. “That will be $17,” I say. 

She glances over at Dan, he doesn't seem to notice so she retrieves her credit card from her purse and taps it against the machine. “I don’t know why I expected him to offer.” She tells me in a conspiratorial whisper “He’s broke. I mean not that it matters to me, but it would just be nice to date a wealthy man or one who at least pays attention to me.” 

Customers often confided in me. I wish I could say it is because of my open honest face or charismatic demeanor but it probably had more to do with a book I once ate about a bartender people told all their secrets to.

I look around. There are a few consumers browsing the book shelves and my manager is sitting at his desk in the back, no one close enough to notice. Bridget seems sweet, too sweet to be with a man like Dan. Poor girl just wants to escape with some fiction, so why not indulge her a little.

“Did you get a chance to check out our books on sale?” I ask Bridget diverting her attention away. She looks over at the shelf I pointed at giving me enough time to crack my knuckles, take a deep breath, and begin.

I place my hands over the cover of the book and it springs open, the pages start to turn themselves slow at first then speed up. Words start to flow from the book as the pages flip past. The letters lift from the page like a sticker being peeled, floating into the air to spin around me. They form a cyclone of black ink as the pages that flip by are left blank.

I feel the lines as they flow off the paper. The first line reads. “Kustav tower is 400 stories tall, rumor has it, it’s smaller than Dane Kustav’s dick.” 

I directed the words towards Bridget’s boyfriend. The ink splashes into him, absorbing into his gray hoodie but leaving no mark. None except for the fact that his basketball shorts start to thrash like a wild animal is trapped inside. Dan didn't look up from his phone even as his dick doubled and then tripled in size to match the one described in the book Billionaires Secrets.

I tried to be sparing with my abilities. Fiction is great so long as it stays fiction, otherwise you have evil robots or sparkly vampires running around. Still, every once in a while my heroic urges will take over and I am called to help someone with my power to bring words to life. Bridget is one of those people.

More words flowed off the page. “Dane Kustav is well dressed at all times. One would be hard-pressed to ever see Dane not in a suit. If one did see him without a suit, it would be in the bedroom where they would be very, very hard pressed indeed.”

The words spin around me once then drift over to Dan again on an invisible wind. This time his clothes were affected by the words. His grey hoodie which he wore with the hood up, melted off his body, the threads unwinding then rebinding themselves into a far higher quality dress shirt and black jacket complete with a blue tie. His shorts became black dress pants and his sneakers a pair of brown loafers. The outline of his much larger dick was clear in his new tighter pants. A few seconds passed with no changes then, slowly his tie undid itself and each of the buttons on his dress shirt opened so that he was sporting a matching look to that of the man on the cover of the book. Unlike the cover, however, Dan lacked the chiseled face or body to pull off the open shirt. His slight gut and saggy, hairy chest made the outfit look awkward rather than sexy.

Bridget looked up from the sale rack and glanced at her half-nude boyfriend with a chagrined glance. In her mind, he was always dressed in the finest clothes even if he still acted like a man-child.

“Dane Kustav towered over everyone be that in stature or in business.” 

I directed the words into him. Dan shot upwards, his modest 5’10” frame becoming a proud 6’3”, clothes growing to match. And though it wasn’t visible Dan’s head was also filled with business smarts he had lacked before. The game on his phone shifted from Fruit Ninja to Hey Day.

The pages continue to flip, their words leaving the page to float in the air under my command.

“Dane Kustav's muscles were like that of a brass statue, smooth, hard, and golden. Each curve could only have been sculpted by the hands of an artist for nature could never make anybody so perfect.”

I look over at Dan’s soft pudgy body. Not the words I would use to describe him, at least not yet. I float the sentence to him.

Instantly Dan’s belly flattens. One by one his abs pop into being as if pushed out from the inside like one of those pop-it toys. His man boobs visibly transmute from fat to muscle, perking up and then growing into a strong chest like that of the man on the cover of the book. Inside the sleeves of his dress shirt, his arms thicken into a pair of round vascular biceps while his legs below do the same. A tan, like oil spreading over water seeps across his body until his exposed muscles really looked like sculpture bronze turned to life. The few hairs that had looked sloppy before now lent his body a rugged masculinity.

Bridget looks at her boyfriend with a new lust. Her hands start to roam his abs and chest but Dan, still on his phone, only bats them away. 

Man-child indeed, a man in the body, a child in the face and the personality. I divert my attention back to the flipping pages looking for words I could use to fix that. The book is reaching the end, and the main character, assistant to the billionaire, has finally seduced her boss in a very steamy scene. High-class writing it is not, but at least it gives me plenty to work with.

“I ran my hand down his sharp square jaw.” 

I throw the words at him. The shape of his face shifts to be more masculine.

“He looked at me through squinted sexy amber eyes.”

His eyes shift from a pale blue to an amber so rich it almost looked red. He finally looks up from his phone and deep into Bridget's eyes. She returns the stare with a smile. 

“He brought my hand up to his cheek, I felt each bristle of his short sharp stubble.”

Dan moves Bridget's fingers up to his face which is now covered in a sexy two days' worth of growth.

“Then he kissed me with his soft sensual lips hard enough to make me weak in the knees.”

The words flow off the page and into him. His lips grow pillowy and pink and interlocked with Bridget’s. He wraps his muscular arms around her, keeping her steady as she collapses into him. 

“I warp my fingers into his jet-black quaffed hair as I prepare for him to take me.”

His hair gains a stylish cut and is dark as pitch, body hair and stubble do the same. Bridget greedily runs her hand through his new dark dew.

“He smelled like sports deodorant, woody cologne, and sex. I wanted nothing more than this man to take me.”

The bookstore fills with his scent. I am surprised to find myself turned on by the whole thing. I have reached the end of the book, the final page.

“It was then that I learned the billionaire's secret.”

This was the good stuff. I leech the words off the page and send them to Dan, or rather now, Dane.

“His secret wasn’t that he was hot, or rich, or could make any girl swoon.”

Their kiss intensifies. Dane started to undo Bridget's blouse.

“No, the billionaire's secret was.”

Suddenly Dane pulls away.

“The billionaire was gay.”

“Sorry Bridget,” Dane says taking a few steps back and looking at her with sudden realization. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

His eyes wander over to lock onto mine, rich amber orbs seeming to really take me in. He winks. “You thought, I think that could work. What are you doing after this?” He asks smoothly “Want to go get coffee in Paris on my jet? My treat.”

[sanjisjuul]

Therapist Law!

Summary: Law is a kinky therapist

Cw: fem reader, cursing, spanking, fingering

Note: if you've seen this before it's because its from my old account! i'm working on recovering all my fics and thanks to @pileofmush this one has been located in its entirety!

Word count: 3.2k

Mdni 18+

the ticking of the clock on the sad beige walls reverberates through your eardrums as you bounce your leg up and down in anticipation. a metallic taste tingles your taste buds as you draw blood from how hard you're chewing on your lip. 

therapy. something you've wanted to do, but simultaneously put off for years. a recent break up that you initiated caused you to finally seek a doctor. your past lover, while a good person, didn't provide the affection you so much craved. you felt ignored, a bother almost, everything you put in was almost consumed rather than given back. not to mention sexually you were more than less satisfied, your partner always getting their needs met and not bothering to give yours any attention. 

now you're sat in an uncomfortable leather chair, the squeaking making you cringe internally as you shift around. you try to search the walls for any distraction to calm your nerves, but the barren office offers absolutely nothing. 

"y/n?" the soft voice of the receptionist breaks you from your inner thoughts. you look up at her and hum in question as she smiles softly at you. "dr. trafalgar is ready to see you, he's in room 5 whenever you're ready." 

you stand slowly, the crack of your joints causing a jolt of pain to run through your body. you pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands before heading down the hall in search of the room. blank white doors stare back at you as you trudge down the hall. each door with a large black number plastered on it. you come to a halt when seeing the door with a number five. you reach your hand to knock, but the creak of the door causes you to jump in place.

"come in," a deep man's voice speaks, quietly, but enough for the entire hallway to echo around you. without looking up you push past the door before closing it softly behind you. you turn around slowly, getting a glimpse of the room. Dr. Trafalgar's back is turned to you, he sits at a dark wooden desk adjacent to the door typing something rapidly on his computer. floating shelves litter the walls, filled with books, fidget toys, and what seemed to be action figures. a few posters hang from old movies and comic books which contrasts the sterility of the rest of the building, giving you a sense of comfort. there's a black leather chair sitting in the corner which rests next to a large monstera plant to which you take a seat. 

"you must be miss y/n." the doctor speaks his large back still turned to you. you fidget with sleeves, "yes," you smile although he still cannot see you. "alright then," he presses enter on his keyboard before swiveling around in his chair to face you. you almost choke on air upon his front side coming into view. piercing grey eyes bore into yours, a raven mop of hair sits atop his head styled a bit messily. his cheekbones and jawline defined with pretty pink lips and a black goatee resting on his chin. your eyes shamelessly trail down his body as yours heats up. he's dressed business casual, black slacks, black loafers, and long sleeved black button down. he wears two gold hoops on each ear, but what you least expected are the two large tattoos covering each hand, surprising to say the least, but you certainly aren't complaining. 

"so tell me," he breaks your trance, spreading his long legs to rest his elbows on each thigh, holding his face in his knuckles as he leans forward, eyes never leaving yours, "what brings you in?" he licks his lips, almost as if he's reading your mind. you could have sworn you saw a ghost of a smirk before you start speaking. "well um basically i just want to better myself. i just left a long relationship and want to understand why i stayed so long, why i put myself through so much mental anguish." 

dr. trafalgar nods his head, eyebrows furrowed as he actively listens to what you have to say, "well let's start with this. tell me about your last relationship. what occurred, and how it ended." he reaches for a notepad, pen and reading glasses on his desk, before sliding the glasses on and reassuming his previous position. 

you stumble a bit before starting your sentence, the glasses on his handsome face distracting you as you try to recall your memories. "um.. well yeah, i basically felt ignored, almost an afterthought," you start. you go on a long rant recalling all of your frustrating memories, the times you felt like a bother, the constant effort you put in to get none in return, and the way this affected you which ultimately led you to leave.

dr. trafalgar takes notes as you go, looking up every so often to give you a look of understanding, not one of pity which you've received far too many times as of late. you catch your breath as you finish, feeling a sense of relief as you finish your recollection. 

"well, if i'm going to be honest, he sounds like a complete idiot." dr. trafalgar starts, before leaning back in his chair. "i'm glad you were able to leave without many complications. it takes a lot of courage to leave something long term as you just have." 

you smile at his statement before continuing, "to me it should have ended long ago, being with him was more of a past time, i was just scared of being lonely. which in hindsight was a bit stupid because i have friends who have been there for me more than he ever was." 

your doctor smiles at you, "that isn't stupid miss y/n. many people fear being alone, it's completely normal. i am very glad to hear you have friends that support you" 

"i don't know,' you start. "it just feels like my life was on halt for such a long period of time. if anything i'm glad to be single now so i can actually explore other options." 

he cocks an eyebrow, "options?" 

you feel the blood rush to your cheeks upon answering, "options... as in other sexual partners, romantic or not." you close your eyes momentarily as you feel embarrassment creep it's way through your body. 

"were you not satisfied sexually?" he sets his notepad on the desk besides him, and removes his glasses, running a large hand through his raven locks. you try not to linger your stare on his long fingers, each digit tattooed, making you feel... things. 

"well to be completely honest no." you advert your gaze from your sexy ass therapist and chew on your lip before continuing. "it's just going back to effort. he didn't make effort for me emotionally, physically, nor sexually. i always made sure that he was taken care of.. if you know what i mean."

dr. trafalgar pauses for a moment, "well if you're comfortable we can go through that aspect of the relationship as well. just remember, this is all on your terms miss y/n." he locks eyes with yours once again, his face stern as he speaks. 

your face heats up as you look down. you planned on talking about this with your doctor, but didn't expect him to be so... attractive. you feel his gaze on your face before you sigh. you lift your head to meet dr. trafalgars gaze, to which he stares intently back at you.

his silence makes you continue, "in two years how do you not make somebody cum?" you question frustratedly. "he didn't even try, he even blamed me at one point, can you fucking believe that?" you sigh in anger. "i used to excuse myself into another room to take care of myself,"  you laugh in disbelief, "it was just so frustrating." you finish, if you were in a cartoon steam would be seeping out from your ears. 

"may i ask?" dr. trafalgar moves his chair a few inches closer, "when was the last time somebody besides yourself made you cum?" you're taken aback at his question, but not uncomfortable in the slightest. you lean forward resting your chin in your hands before pondering, "s' been years, i can't even remember to be honest with you."

your doctor bites his lip before speaking, "and would you say, that has caused some sexual frustration on your end?" you nod, too distracted to vocalize an answer as you watch him chew on his lip. 

"while in that relationship did you ever consider pursuing any other sexual partners?" he shifts in his chair crossing his legs. 

you pause in thought, "yeah, i honestly did. i never acted on those thoughts though, i would have felt terrible."

dr. trafalgar clenches his jaw, "how about now? do you have any desire to fulfill your needs as of late?" he leans back in his chair, legs still crossed as if he's hiding something. 

you feel feverish at this point, his line of questioning mixed with the pure aura of sex he exudes is too much for you to handle. "i-i... um yeah. i'm just waiting to find someone who is willing to do the same with me."

"can i be honest miss y/n?" he questions, his icy eyes trained on your lips before darting back to your face. you nod once again as you stare back in awe, nodding. 

"i find you to be incredibly attractive," he rolls up his sleeves, revealing more ink along his forearms. "fuck professionality, i want to make you feel good." 

you stare back in shock, your lips part slightly and your thighs clench together as you feel the heat in your body settle at your core, dampening your panties. you can't form a sentence even if you try as he stares back at you in dead seriousness. 

he rests his hands on his knees before standing, his stature making you feel small as he approaches you, bending down face level with you. . "let me repeat myself," he brushes your hair back, goosebumps forming at the warmth of his large hands. "i want to make you feel good, could i do that for you?" you shudder as his lips meet the shell of your ear, his hand resting on the nape of your neck, other in his pocket as he leans over you. 

"please," you squeak, eyes trained on the floor in embarrassment. you feel his other hand reach for your chin to which he tilts up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. his half lidded eyes meet yours as he bites his lip, "look at me when you speak miss y/n." your chest heaves at the proximity, his hand leaves the nape of your neck to grab a fistfull of your hair, holding it firmly to keep your gaze on his. 

"please," you whisper, your eyes darting down to his pretty lips, "make me feel good." he smirks, tugging your hair softly, "good girl." 

he closes the distance by pressing his lips onto yours. the kiss is soft and passionate. his hand stays wrapped in your hair as his lips dance on yours. he softly prods his tongue to tease your bottom lip. you open your mouth to accept his offering to which he presses his tongue fully in, savoring your taste.

you sigh at the intrusion, the feeling of being kissed correctly felt so foreign to you yet so fucking amazing. your tongues collide as you feverishly make out in his office. you gain the courage to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you, however you didn't realize your strength as the first two buttons of his shirt ripped off completely.

you break the kiss to marvel at his bare collar bones, also littered with tattoos, you groan at the view to which he smirks. "miss y/n," he says in fake surprise, "didn't know you were so eager." you fake pout at his response and he chuckles before removing his hands from you to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. as each button pops open, your gaze goes further down his body, taking in as much as you could. every muscle, every speck of ink prominent in your eyes as his shirt dropped to the floor. 

you reach your shaky hands up slowly to rest on his ab muscles, to which he grabs your wrists, planting them on his torso. you curiously glide your hands up and down, feeling the taut and warm flesh as your slick starts to seep through your yoga pants.

abruptly, he steps back from you, returning back to his chair and taking a seat, reassuming his manspread position. you now understand why his legs were crossed earlier, his cock is painfully erect through the fabric of his slacks. 

"cmere," he grunts, and you do as you're told, stepping closer until you're stood directly in front of him. he reaches his hands up to you, wrapping his arms around your torso, bringing you closer. "miss y/n," he speaks, causing you to look down at him. his face is yet again serious, his eyebrows furrowed. "we can stop at any moment you'd like, tell me if it's too much." 

you nod your head at his statement, smiling softly, "okay," you whisper. Dr. Trafalgar starts to kiss your stomach through your sweater, his hands raking down your back before reaching dangerously close to your ass. he suddenly halts, "want you bent over on my lap," he grunts, removing his face from your sweater to look up at you. "mhm," you hum as you position yourself over his lap before laying down. your ass is directly below his face, and your face almost touches the floor, but he holds your hair back to prevent that from happening. 

"i'm going to start now, tell me if this is okay," Dr. Trafalgar speaks before you feel his hand start to slide up the back of your thighs. he squeezes every so often, causing jolts of electricity to run through your body. once he reaches the crest of your ass he pauses, "this ok?" he questions. 

"yes, please continue," you pant out. he hums as his hand slides over your ass, he grips the flesh in his hand squeezing softly before letting go. "such a nice fuckin' ass," he growls before placing a soft slap on your right cheek. you moan in pleasure as he repeats the action to your other cheek. "hmm whats this?" he questions, moving his hand in between your legs, "this wet already miss y/n?" he starts to rub you through your pants collecting the juices that leaked through, humming in the process. 

you twitch as his hand makes contact with your clothed cunt. he rubs softly, the teasing driving you mad as your body slightly vibrates under his control. "so sensitive for me yeah?" he questions, before slapping your ass again, harder this time, causing you to moan loudly. "feels s'good doctor," you whine as he places another harsh slap on your ass, causing you to clench around nothing. "you can call me law sweetness," he sounds before spanking you again, this time leaving a stinging sensation behind. 

your clit starts to pulsate through your panties, your juices start to coat not only your opening, but now your thighs as well to which law notices, "you like it when i spank you miss y/n?" you yelp as another slap is placed on your behind, "fuck-law yes i love it." he chuckles above you, "good girl."

you feel his hands move up your ass and hook around the waist band of your yoga pants, "ass up," he commands to which you oblige. you arch your back as he slides your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. he hums as his fingers come in contact with your cunt, rubbing circles around the area around your entrance, before slipping one finger inside the fabric. 

you shudder as he swipes his finger up and down, collecting as much wetness as he can while creating a delicious friction on your clit. "you like that huh?" he questions as he slips one finger inside of you. you twitch at the feeling, his long and slender finger moves in and out of you, pumping slowly as to warm you up. "y-yes," you pant out as you clench around his finger. 

before speeding up any further he slips another finger past your panties and into your entrance, stretching you out so good as you wail out. his grip on your hair tightens as you lose composure, your eyes screw shut in pleasure as his fingers work in and out of you. 

when his fingers hook over one particular spot, you twitch involuntarily causing him to chuckle, "so that's the spot huh?" he continues to hit the same spot, his fingers repeatedly hooking in and out of your hole as pressure builds in your lower stomach. curses and moans leave your mouth as you feel yourself losing complete composure. drool seeps from your lips as your body vibrates under his touch. 

just when you think it can't get any better he slips his thumb through your panties and onto your clit, rubbing circles as he continues the pace of his fingers. "f-fuck law," you cry out as a tingling sensation overtakes your senses. "yeah? tell me how good it feels," he groans. "feels so fucking good, keep going g-gonna cum," you whine out between breaths. he keeps the pace he set, not speeding up nor slowing down. he releases your hair as your head falls limp he reaches his forearm to catch you, hand moving down to your chest and flicking your nipple through your shirt adding a third point of stimulation.

"say my name," law commands as your climax approaches. your body spasms atop him, "wanna hear you fuckin' say it." you manage to choke out his name, "l-law oh fuck law gonna cum, please please please," you wail your legs shaking harshly. 

"that's it baby, cum for me," he grunts as your cunt flutters around his fingers. you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, the triple stimulation giving you the most astounding feeling ever. fire erupts all over your body as your juices coat his hand. his hands keep working you, making sure you ride out your climax fully, as your whole body shudders underneath him. chants of his name leave your mouth as a mantra as you pant for air.

he slows down his movement slowly but surely until he completely stills. your body lays limp on top of him almost collapsing on the floor before he catches you in his arms, pulling you to sit on his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you. you bury your head in the crook of his neck, gasping as you catch your breath. "how was that miss y/n?" law questions, his voice muffled by your shoulder, you feel the rasp of his voice rumble through your spent body. "so. fucking. amazing." you sigh becoming almost limp in his arms.

"i'm glad to hear that," you can feel his smile through the fabric of your sweater which causes you to reciprocate. he pulls you off his shoulder to look you in the eyes, smirking, "so, let's schedule your next appointment."

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Thanks to degenezijde for sending this classy 1937 renovated Art Nouveau home in Oudenaarde, Belgium. 5bds, 3ba, €698,000 / $762K

Entrance hall with original tile.

A foyer opens out to a cozy, light-filled living room.

The kitchen is a modern black & white with double round sinks, and an opalescent tile backsplash. Classic white Shaker cabinets are interspersed with contemporary glass front cabinets that resemble open shelving, but protect it behind closed doors. Love that idea.

The kitchen has a generously sized eat-in space with doors that open directly to a patio with a pergola.

In the front of the building, the original windows w/colored glass panes are still intact and beautifully appear in the bedrooms. It would look so great decorating them in Art Nouveau style and picking up the colors of the glass.

I don't normally do this, but I've never had an Art Nouveau home before. Can you picture this wallpaper on a feature wall? Look at how the colors tie in with the window.

This bedroom is a little larger and has different style windows with a storage unit that could also be a window seat. Art Nouveau style is fancy and classy, this place needs to ditch the straight lined, bland white modern style.

They did a modern black & white bath.

An Art Nouveau tile backsplash would glam it up.

A new primary bedroom is in the attic, has beautiful pitched beamed ceilings, built-in floating night tables, a modern fireplace, and an en-suite bath.

Beautiful yard surrounded by a private brick wall. And, look at the cute little shed.

There's even a patio around a pond. What a great home. So much potential for making it an Art Nouveau showplace.

[nino-rox]

Jake | library + fascįnation

It started off as nothing. In fact, you’d barely noticed him at first. He was just another face in the background, another guy claiming his spot at the far corner of the library. Jake wasn’t the type to be buried in books, that much was obvious. The way he slouched in his chair, feet kicked up, the worn leather jacket slung over the back—he stood out. His blonde hair, messy and effortlessly styled, gleamed faintly under the library's low lighting, adding to his bad-boy allure. But still, the two of you had silently coexisted in the same space for what felt like ages.

You’d both been going to the library since freshman year, coincidentally at the same time, almost every day. You had your favorite spot, two tables away from the large window that overlooked the campus courtyard. It was quiet but not too isolated. You liked the soft natural light that streamed through in the afternoons, and the way you could glance out at the people passing by if you ever needed a break from your textbooks.

Jake, on the other hand, sat further back, near the older sections with the dark wooden shelves that cast deep shadows. It wasn’t a place most people sat, probably because it felt cut off from the rest of the room. Maybe that’s why he liked it. Or maybe it was because no one would dare bother him there. He radiated a sort of intimidating presence that you couldn’t quite pin down at first. The kind of guy who looked like he’d seen it all and didn’t have time for anyone’s shit. But you had a feeling that wasn’t entirely true.

Over the past year, you’d found yourself noticing the details. He wasn’t just some random guy in the corner anymore; he was Jake, the hot bad boy everyone knew of, but no one really knew. Rumors floated around campus about his late-night hookups, his devil-may-care attitude, and the trail of people he left in his wake. You didn’t need to hear the whispers to know he had a reputation. You’d seen him—late at night, in the dorms, more times than you could count. Usually when he was sneaking out after hooking up with someone, his hood pulled low over his face, trying to blend into the shadows of the hallways.

And then, somehow, your paths kept crossing. Maybe it was fate, or maybe just bad timing, but it seemed like you were always walking in and out of the library at the same time. You’d step inside, and there he’d be, sliding into his regular spot just minutes after you. Or you’d pack up your things, and Jake would be right behind you, leaving like it had been some sort of unspoken agreement all along. The more it happened, the less it felt like a coincidence.

That’s when the glances started.

It wasn’t intentional at first. You’d look up from your laptop, your gaze drifting across the room, and there he’d be, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes already on you. Sharp, dark, intense. The kind of gaze that made your skin prickle with awareness. You told yourself it was nothing—just a random look. But the days passed, and every time you caught his eye, it lingered a little longer. Each glance seemed to say more than the last, a silent conversation neither of you dared to speak aloud.

There was something unspoken between you, something that went beyond mere attraction — a raw, unfiltered yearning, as though each of you were waiting for the other to break the silence.

His eyes did all the talking. And every time they settled on you, dark and heated, you could feel his intent, like he was daring you to do something about the fire sparking between you.

The tension was undeniable. You could feel it every time you stepped into the library, a slow burn that simmered under the surface. It wasn’t just the glances; it was the way the air felt heavier when he was around, the way you could feel him even when you weren’t looking directly at him. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that tension only grew.

The faint musk of old books and worn paper blended with the faint scent of Jake’s cologne, something woodsy and dark, with just enough bite to keep you aware of his presence even when you weren’t looking at him.

It had been months now, and still, neither of you had spoken a word to the other. Yet, somehow, it felt like you knew each other, like you were connected by something unspoken. The library wasn’t the only place your paths crossed. You’d seen him late at night in the dorms, usually after one of his infamous hookups. He’d slip out of someone’s room, his hair disheveled, his hoodie pulled up, eyes catching yours in the dim light of the hallway. He never spoke then either, just offered you a knowing smirk before disappearing into the night.

The first time you ran into him in the dorms had been late, just past midnight. You were heading back to your room after a long evening of studying, mind heavy with fatigue. The hallway was dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the vending machine near the end. That’s when you saw him. He stepped out of someone’s room, the door closing softly behind him. His hood was up, but you’d recognize that figure anywhere. He walked with a casual swagger, like he owned the night, and as he approached, his eyes flicked up, meeting yours.

There was a beat of silence, the hallway thick with unspoken tension. You could hear the soft hum of the vending machine, the distant sound of someone laughing from down the hall, but none of it mattered. All that existed was him. Jake, standing a few feet away, his gaze locking onto yours in that same way he always did—like he was daring you to say something, to break the fragile quiet between you. But you didn’t. Neither did he.

Instead, he walked past you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he moved down the hall, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air long after he was gone. You stood there, your heart racing, the weight of his presence pressing down on you, even after the sound of his footsteps faded into nothing.

You’d always felt an odd mix of curiosity and confusion whenever you crossed paths with Jake. As much as you tried to deny it, there was something about him that pulled you in. Was it the way his gaze made your heart race? Or maybe it was the mystery—the fact that you couldn’t quite figure him out. But there was also a part of you that wondered: why did it matter so much? Why did *he* matter so much?

And then there was that one night. The night everything shifted.

You’d had a shit day. Classes had dragged on longer than they should have, and you were exhausted by the time you stepped out of the library that evening. It was late, the sky painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. You pulled out a cigarette, needing the nicotine to take the edge off, but your lighter had died.

Frustrated, you stared at the unlit cigarette, your mind too tired to even care. That’s when you noticed him. Jake, leaning against the railing at the edge of the bluff, watching you with that same amused look he always had. You hadn’t even known he smoked. Without a word, he reached into his pocket, tossed you his lighter, and just like that, you shared a moment.

You lit your cigarette, the flame flickering between you, and after a moment, you handed it to him. Jake took it without a word, his fingers brushing against yours as he took a slow drag, the smoke curling between his lips before he handed it back. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged, like there was something waiting to be said, but neither of you would be the first to say it.

When the cigarette was done, he tossed the butt to the ground, gave you a small glance, and walked away, leaving you standing there in the fading light, the weight of that shared moment hanging heavy in the air.

That was the last time you’d seen him outside the library, but the memory stayed with you, much like the way his eyes seemed to follow you every time you walked through those library doors.

It wasn’t until late one night, well after the library had emptied out, that things finally came to a head. The dim lights cast long shadows across the rows of bookshelves, the stillness of the room heavy with anticipation. You hadn’t expected to see him there. But as soon as you stepped inside, Jake was already leaning against one of the shelves, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

You felt the heat rise in your chest. For a second, you hesitated, your pulse quickening as you stood frozen by the door. Was this it? Was this the moment you had been waiting for, the moment where the silence finally broke? You didn’t know if you were ready, but you couldn’t deny the pull between you. Something in the air was too thick to ignore.

Jake’s expression was unreadable, but the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. And yet, for the briefest second, he paused. Maybe it was hesitation, maybe it was curiosity, but there was something in his gaze that told you he was waiting—waiting for you to make the next move.

You stepped forward, your body moving on instinct, drawn to the tension between you like a moth to a flame. The rest of the world fell away. The only thing you could focus on was the heat in his gaze, the way your pulse quickened as you closed the distance between you. His expression was unreadable, but the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

You followed him, the pull between you undeniable, each step feeling heavier with the weight of everything unsaid. The small study room at the back of the library offered no escape from the tension, the door clicking shut behind you like a final, irreversible decision.

Thank you for reading Chapter 1

If you liked the story and want a part 2, Please Request!

[dynamightimagines]

simple request. Picture kaminari with a stoic Bf kind of like Todoroki. this is like season 3 and its pretty much the bf asking Kaminari for help decorating his room and making it feel more comfortable. His heart totally skips a beat when his bf says they want his help and no one else.

YESYES HIHI I LOVE THISSSS i hope i do it ok !!

Bedroom Boyfs (Kaminari x Stoic! Male! Reader)

When the dorms were implemented, everyone was excited.

More hangouts with friends! More parties! The opportunity of secret sleepovers that Aizawa totally doesn't know about but doesn't care enough to shut down!

But for now, the hard work of making the dorms to each their own was underway, everyone working hard to bring their beloved items to the rooms, Uraraka helping float any heavier items.

You however, had always had the same room style since you were little, your parents just upgrading the furniture as needed as you grew older. No posters, figures, art, nothing.

Seeing everyone else bringing the items that showed their personality made you feel a bit awkward, having nothing to really bring besides clothes and school necessities since the dorms came pre-equipped with beds, desks, and shelves. One suitcase was all you had.

"Hey!" You hear coming from the doorway to the dorms, just behind you. "Need help bringing anything in?"

Kaminari was holding some type of video game console, the wires of the controllers dangling in his arms.

"No, not really." You pushed out the arm holding onto the handle of the suitcase. "This is all I have."

Kaminari made a face, eyes widening in surprise and confusion as he looked at the one bag you had. "Seriously? That's it?" The one bag you carried looking so insignificant to all the bags and boxes everyone else was hauling.

"Yeah," you shifted the bag in your hands. "I never really collected anything, kinda just focused on school mostly."

Your boyfriend looked shocked, no pun intended. He shifted the things he was carrying into one arm, reaching out and grabbing your suitcase from your hands. "Well, I'm still gonna be ever the gentleman, and take it to your dorm!"

You told him where your dorm was located on the floor and followed him to the door.

"Hey, we're only like two doors away from each other! That's awesome!" Kaminari did a little dance as you located your key and unlocked the door.

Inside was equipped with the basics. A bed, desk, dresser, and chair as is standard for all the dorms. Basic curtains blocked a sliding door to a small patio.

"It's similar to my room at home." You walked in, looking at the simplicity of the room.

"Really?" Denki set your suitcase down by the dresser. "This is it?"

You shrugged, turning back to him. "I guess. Never really was good at decorating."

"Well, we can get help!" Kaminari walked over and slapped a hand on your shoulder. "I know some people here are pretty good at decorating! Let's ask them!"

You two left the room, popping into random rooms to see who had the nicest ones and to ask for decorating advice.

"Okay, so Midoriya is a no go, all he sees fit for a room is anything related to All Might." You two had settled into the main living room, sitting on the couch. " Jiro's room looked really cool so maybe her? It was a bit maximalist though, so maybe Tsuyu? Her room was cute!"

"I want your help."

"Huh?"

Kaminari turned towards you, head tilted, encouraging you to continue.

"I thought about it," You fiddled with your hands, looking down at them. "I'm not comfortable with them creating my living space, I don't know them very well. I want you to do it. You know me, you know what I like, and I trust you."

Denki's face lit up like a christmas tree, small zaps surrounding him. A huge smile grew on his face and he felt like he could run out of breath at any moment.

You only trusted him? You only wanted him to help you create a space that's private for only you?

"Of course, only if you want to." You were looking back at him, your face stoic yet a small hint of apprehension in your eyes, worried for if he might reject your request.

"No, of course!" He jumped in his seat, scooting closer to you and grabbing both of your hands, clasping them in his. "I can totally help you find some things for your room! This is will be fun!"

As soon as you guys were given approval to leave the dorms by Aizawa a lot of people headed out, either to grab things for the dorms or simply walk the area to get a feel for their new living space. You two took the time to head to the shopping district.

"So what should we get?" Kaminari walked next to you, shoulders bumping from time to time. "Posters? a cute carpet? A pet?!"

You gave a slight small, huffing a little. "I doubt Aizawa wants us to get a pet."

"Yeah," Denki, sighed, slouching a little. "A cat would be super awesome, though."

"I don't want much. Just a few little things would be nice."

"Okay, keep it simple! Got it!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You two got back to the dorms right before curfew, saying small hellos to a few others that were returning as well.

"We didn't get a lot, but everything we got is super awesome!" Kaminari shook the two bags he was carrying. "You're room is gonna be uber cool!" You two got to work setting up immediately, and it didn't take long since you went for a basic approach.

By the time you were done the room was perfect. The desk now had a few little trinkets such as a cute fake flower, a holder for your stationary, and a clock. You got new bedding, your favorite color, same with curtains. Denki helped pick out a nice accent run and you relented to him picking out just one simple poster.

"It looks amazing!" Denki flopped down on your bed, feeling the new comforter. "This blanket is a ton more comfy then the ones they provided, I need to get one too!"

You sat down next to him, taking in the room.

"This is nice." You put your hand on his, causing him to stop petting your new blankets. "I really appreciate this, Kaminari. I wouldn't have even known what to pick out. You did amazing, I really appreciate it."

Denki blushed, flashing his signature smile at you before he jumped up.

"I got one more thing for you!"

He rummaged in a bag that you thought was just full of the tags and wrapping of the things you bought, before pulling out one more item.

"I knew you would say no if I asked you if you wanted it but I got it anyways!"

He held up a plush (your favorite animal), waving it around like a parent would entertain a child. "it's so cute! It reminded me of you."

He handed you the toy and sat back down with you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I think it makes your room complete."

You looked down at the stuffed animal you now held, feeling the material and looking into its beady eyes. It was perfect.

"Thank you." You turned your head to Kaminari, placing a small kiss on his forehead. He jolted up straight.

"Of- of course!" He leaned closer to you, eyes shining with happiness. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Kaminari didn't realize it, but that stuffed toy became one of your most prized possessions, cheering you on as you studied and being a silent protector as you held it at night, falling asleep to the memories it brought with it.

EEEEEEEE I am no good at this,,,,, sorry!!! I love Kaminari vvvv underrated boy!!

[dbmars]

NOW ON A03...

The H-Files, Episode 1 Part 1

Relive everything you loved about the pilot of the X-Files but better now that it's Hannibal as Scully and Will as Mulder... "Spooky Graham"...!

The aliens may be responsible for Will's empathy powers, and Mischa was abducted...

If I get a decent response/support I'll finish the episode and maybe write some more!

No time like the present. I make my way back through the violent crime section, and downstairs, revisiting the secretary. She directs me to an elevator that sinks me down to the first sub-basement level. The doors open and I move through the cinder block hallway that smells of industrial floor cleaner and wet ceiling tiles. At the end of the hallway, past shelves of case file boxes, is an office door cracked open. The placard reads GRAHAM. I can hear shuffling within, the movement of a chair. My nose wrinkles against cheap aftershave and stale coffee.

        I knock. I knock again. “Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted,” comes a wry voice. 

        I push the door open, revealing a small, windowless room packed with filing cabinets and shelves of still more files and paperwork. Despite what must be the vast amount of material crammed into the space, it is remarkably tidy, stacks neatly organized, lines clean. The bulletin board above the desk, however, is a mess of photos and handwritten notes. My eye is immediately drawn to a large poster of a science-fiction style flying disc, emblazoned with the phrase “I WANT TO BELIEVE.” 

        They don’t look like inverted bowls. More like saucers, thin and fragile, somehow meant to support an even more fragile teacup. 

        Against my will, my mind shows me the images that have haunted me most of my life – my mother’s teacup shattering against the floor, the white light filling every window of our hunting lodge, my sister’s screams, the whining, mechanical hum of the silver beast that descended from the heavens. My mother’s terrified shrieking as I raced out to save my sister, only to be rendered weightless, floating in searing blindness, and borne away. 

        I slam that door in the memory palace and attach another lock to it. They seem to rust and break at the most inopportune times.

         Agent Will Graham is bent over a light box, examining a series of slides. He, too, seems to forego the typical FBI uniform of dark suits and white shirts with uninteresting ties. He looks more like a rumpled professor or domesticated outdoorsman in brown pants and a green collared shirt that could just as easily be worn for yard work. His hair is curly, untidy in places, and he wears a layer of scattered stubble. When he turns to me, Will Graham lowers his tortoiseshell glasses down from his head. Fascinating. Nearsighted? 

        I give him my best introduction smile, oozing friendliness and ease. “Agent Graham. My name is Hannibal Lecter.” I approach and offer a hand. He shakes it very briefly, and a shadow flickers over his expression as I hold on just a little too long for his comfort. “I’ve been assigned to work with you.” 

         He glances at my eyes for a fraction of a second before turning his head, putting the frames of his glasses between us as a barrier. “Nice to, ah, suddenly be so highly regarded,” he says, all barbed irony. Rude. He turns in his seat and fiddles with the slides, deliberately disengaging. Ruder still. “So, who’d you piss off to get stuck with this detail, Lecter?” 

    He knows full well why I am here, it seems. Rather, why I’ve been sent. But they could have sent anyone. I was not chosen at random. There are multiple chess pieces moving at the same time on a three-dimensional board, and I have control of the queens. I am here because I seek truth. Because I cannot trust my memories – they might be nothing but a traumatized child’s nightmares, a wounded brain trying to explain what happened the night the world went away. Will Graham may very well be the lantern to light my way.

         “As it happens, I’ve heard a lot about you,” I say pleasantly as he gets up from his desk chair and opens a tidy file cabinet drawer, thumbing through the immaculate plastic tabs. I wonder if his drawers at home are kept just as meticulously. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

         “Really? I was, ah, under the impression you were sent here… to spy on me.” He opens the file and glances through a few typewritten pages before returning it to its proper place. I let my eyes wander over him as he stands in profile. I’d jump at the chance to spy on him. Voyeurism is one of my favorite parts of my process - to see without being seen. To stalk. I imagine him moving through his assuredly modest home, stretching, scratching his head, sleepy. Ready for bed in, oh, a pair of dull boxer shorts. I think of him illuminated by the light of his refrigerator as he searches for a little something before bed, uplit by its unholy glow as I watch him through the window.

            Interesting. My body is responding sexually to the image. I wipe it away as though I’d drawn it in steam on a mirror. “Agent Graham, if you have any doubts about my credentials or qualifications-”

            “-you’re a medical doctor and you’re teaching at the academy.” He interrupts me. Rude. Instead of imagining my knife piercing his skin, I picture him on his knees, waiting to make it up to me. Again, I force the image to dissolve. “You did your undergraduate degree in physics, while, ah, concurrently double majoring in psychology and art history with a focus on Renaissance Italy.” He selects another file from the cabinet and slides the drawer shut. “I dunno about your artsy stuff, but your senior thesis was ‘Einstein’s Twin Paradox: A New Interpretation’. Now, there’s a credential: rewriting Einstein.” 

            I successfully mask my surprise that he’s so familiar with my work. “Did you happen to read it?”

            He returns to his desk chair and compares something in the file to a slide. I glance over at his computer screen as he bends over to retrieve a dropped report from the file. I make out the words force, abduction, and light before he rights himself. “Yeah. I liked it,” he says, still not looking at me directly, the rims of his glasses in the way. “It’s just that in, ah… in my line of work – the laws of physics rarely seem to apply.” He adjusts another slide, then turns on the projector, flashing a washed-out image on the blank bit of cinder block wall kept clear, it seems, for this purpose. He has a curve to his lips on one side that strikes me as impudent. I want to wipe it off his face, one way or another.

            “Not fond of eye contact, are you?” I say, an attempt to derail and destabilize. 

            Now he swivels in his chair and looks directly at me. His eyes are like the ocean between islands in Greece. “Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough. And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white, or they must have hepatitis, or is that a burst vein?”

            I can’t help but smile, returning his gaze steadily. 

            “So… yeah. I try to avoid eyes whenever possible. It’s even easier in the dark.” Agent Graham steps behind me and switches off the lights. The windowless cell is lit now only by the projected image – a young woman, lifeless on the ground. Ah. I had wondered when we’d discuss murder. While Will Graham is apparently very aware of my career and accomplishments, he doesn’t know of my finest work as the Chesapeake Ripper. Perhaps, someday, he will. 

            Will leans his hips against his desk, crossing his arms over his midsection. It catches the loose fabric of his shirt, drawing it against the bow of his back. Distracted again. I refocus on the image he’s elected to show me. “Maybe you can give your medical opinion, though,” he says. “Oregon female. Age twenty-one. No explainable cause of death. Nothing in the autopsy.” He switches slides, showing me a close-up shot of the young woman’s lower back, marred by two livid red welts. According to the ruler nearby for scale, they are roughly the size of an American dime. “Two distinct marks, however, are found on her lower back. Can you ID these marks… Dr. Lecter?”

            I move closer to the projected image. Despite not liking eye contact, I can feel him watching me. Perhaps he has some voyeuristic tendencies as well. “Needle punctures, perhaps. An animal bite. Electrocution is a possibility.” 

            When he switches slides again, I hide my surprise. It is not the body from another angle, but a diagram showing a chemical compound. 

            “How’s your chemistry? This is the substance found in the surrounding tissue.”

            I study the image, my brain humming steadily. I do love a challenge, and I find them so rarely. “It’s inorganic. Perhaps a synthetic protein.”

            “Hell if I know,�� Agent Graham says. 

            “That’s surprising. You must have had your fair share of chemistry studying entomology. Your monograph on determining time of death based on insect activity required a high level of understanding to compose, I’m sure.” 

            “By all means, be sure,” he snarks, but the subtle pink staining his cheekbones tells me he’s pleased I’m familiar with his work as well. “I’ve never seen it, either. But here it’s found again, in Sturgis, South Dakota.” He switches slides, this one depicting a large man in a motorcycle club vest with the same two raised welts on his back. He switches again, showing me another male body with the same marks in the same place, spanning the thoracolumbar fascia and the internal oblique muscles. “And again, in Shamrock, Texas.”

            A true mystery. This is delightful. I haven’t had an afternoon so pleasant since I murdered the man sent to evaluate me by my life insurance agency and stretched his corpse across two rows of bus seats. “Do you have a theory?” 

            “I have, ah… plenty of theories,” he dismisses, joining me in front of the projected image, the dead man’s outline juxtaposed over him, throwing the kind of light that both obscures and reveals. His forehead bears a gentle shimmer of perspiration, and I can smell more of him now, the scent beneath the cheap aftershave – dogs, fresh splits of pine, machine oil, and something sweet I’d need more time and a closer proximity to identify. He doesn’t look at me, turning his head to the side a few degrees to let the slide’s light catch on the lenses of his glasses instead. “What has me stumped is why Bureau policy is to label these cases as unexplained phenomena and ignore them.” 

            I can sense the rumble of anger beneath his sardonic tone, taut with frustration. 

            “So, Dr. Lecter, do you believe in the existence of… extraterrestrials?” He says it with a wry twist that might be a kind of bitter smile. I tilt my head. “As a scientist,” he prompts, leaving me to lean against the edge of his desk again. 

            “Logically, I’d have to say no.” I do strive to tell the truth in my own way. Logically, I shouldn’t. But I am here because I need his help with the illogical – to determine, once and for all, if something happened to me, or I happened. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed–”

            He interrupts, shaking his head. “Conventional wisdom. That girl in Oregon – she’s the fourth member of her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances. When convention and-and science offer no answers, might we not consider the, ah, the fantastic as a plausibility?” 

            He tested me at first, showing me the chemical compound and the crime scene photos. Now, he wants to make the boundaries clear. Impudent. Wants to get a rise out of me, surely, to define the methods of interaction. 

            My answer is mild, clinical, the kind of voice I’d use if I’d chosen to become a psychiatrist. “The girl is dead. Death occurs for a reason.” Sometimes, I am that reason. “If it was natural causes, then it’s plausible something was missed in the postmortem. If she was murdered, it’s plausible there was a sloppy investigation. What I find fantastic is your willingness to sidestep human error and search for answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there, I’m sure. You just have to know where to look.” I raise an eyebrow to add in the sentence I won’t let my mouth say. Apparently, you don’t know where to look. Or you want me to think you don’t know where to look. 

            Agent Graham looks at me now, a brief glance up through his side-lit lenses. His left eye is illuminated as well, making it unearthly blue and leaving the other subdued, its subtle green and brown tones shimmering through the dominant color. He smiles, the most genuine expression I’ve seen yet, and I’m momentarily distracted by his beauty. It’s like visiting the Louvre, making one’s way quickly to see a great work before a crowd forms, and catching sight of an exquisite but uncelebrated painting in a forgotten side gallery that makes one lose all sense of purpose, the internal compass spinning and spinning. 

            “And that’s why they put the I in FBI.” He breaks away and sinks back into his desk chair, rolling over to the glowing blue screen of his computer monitor. “See you bright and early then, Dr. Lecter. We leave for the, ah, the very plausible state of Oregon at 8 am.” 

            I can’t help but smile back, a beam of pleasure, as he turns away from me and begins clacking at the keys. “Until then, Will.”

            I’ve taken a risk, demanding a first name basis. He makes no comment, waves a hand over his shoulder.

            I take my leave and hurry home to pack. 

[nctstar]

Hello! I saw that your requests are opened. Can you please write something or a smut with Doyoung siren? It sounds so incredible in the beginning of golden age 🤯

hi! I know this is SOO late but I'm still getting used to this whole request thing...hopefully will be much better at it next year :) anyway, I think it's probably different to what you envisioned but it does involve siren Doyoung so :D

the girl of the Surface

I leant over to kiss Doyoung on the cheek. Sure enough, the skin on his face felt wet against my lips, and he tasted like salt. When I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed deep orange.

“May I see you again, Doyoung.” I walked away after that, not knowing this was the start of an endless story, a loop, if you will.

pairing: siren!doyoung x fem!reader

other members: the 127 members :)

word count: 3k

genre: low fantasy, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni! yes the sexual content is between sirens and humans so if that makes you uncomfy then don't read, penetrative sex, riding, kissing, fingering, profanity (use of the f word mainly)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. I'm also not a siren expert so feel free to educate me kindly if I'm wrong about certain things - I did do some research for this but there's obviously a lot out there on stuff like this

a/n: honestly i'm a bit iffy about the quality of this - I feel like it's not my best writing but I'm still eager to get this out bc I feel like it's intriguing at the least. I feel like subconsciously I adapt my writing style to suit whoever I'm reading rn - and rn I'm reading the starless sea so I tried to be more whimsical - but reading back on this I don't think I can pull off this style like queen erin morgenstern can so...anyway it's a work in progress :D also completely forget about golden age oops

also let's just say the jungwoo alien fic walked so this one could run lmao

Every day, Doyoung sneaked away to meet the girl of the Surface.

That’s what everyone else called her, like she owned the place. Nobody knew her name, voice, what she wore or even what she carried. The outlines of her face and body were always blurry, just out of focus.

He wasn’t supposed to go see her. Not on the first day, and definitely not on the days after that.

Doyoung mainly spent most of his days cooped up in his bedroom, nose buried in the pages of a book, words swimming around in his head at all hours of the day. While his siblings rushed here and there, tails flapping and knocking knick-knacks off the makeshift shelves he had built, gossiping about the latest happenings at the market, he travelled the world in his head. Not just the one below, but above the Surface.

Many nights were spent awake, wondering, what is so bad about the Surface?

One night, way before he had ventured above and first laid eyes on her, excited shouts had awoken him from a floaty slumber, and he swam out of his house to find the body of a human male falling through the water, his white shirt billowing out of his body, one shoe coming off his feet, threatening to be lost in the depths of the water.

His brother, Jaehyun, nudged him. “Hey.”

He nodded, acknowledging his presence, but his eyes never left that shoe, not until it fell off completely and started to float away. At the same time, he watched the water around the body stain red, spreading quickly like he imagined paint would on canvas. Above the Surface, of course.

“You think this is how it is above the Surface?”

“Like what?” His brother was eating already. Not the human – well, not yet, anyway.

“Do they also feed on-“

“Hey! Doyoung! Get over here. We need more sirens.”

∞

The day after that, Doyoung and Jaehyun were initiated and sent up for the very first time.

“Hyung, how are you moving so easily with these things?” Jaehyun rubbed his sides in annoyance, wincing when his fingers met the quickly hardening ridges of fins. “I can’t believe I’m going to have this for the rest of my life.”

Doyoung was quiet, the swish-swish of his body travelling upwards, closer towards the Surface. His thoughts were flooded, the voices of the other sirens refusing to settle in his brain. Do not rise above the Surface.

But the people in the books, with their dances and songs – different to the ones he knew. Songs that inspired, that brought peace, that declared love.

Not songs that represented betrayal, violent ends for the ones who dared to stop and listen.

 Would he be able to hear those songs?

“It’ll be fun. You know,” He caught up to Doyoung now, arms brushing as they swam in sync. “the others said you can have fun with them before the song ends.”

Doyoung looked at his younger brother, whose eyes were glinting with something akin to pride, or mischief. “What kind of fun?”

Jaehyun smiled at him. “Remember that time Johnny-hyung made that huge thing crash, and it had hundreds of humans on it? Well, he said he had a lot of fun that day.”

“It’s called a ship.” Doyoung looked ahead as the water began to lighten, signalling their arrival. “Those huge things are ships.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, frowning slightly before getting distracted by his new fins again, now fully hard and sharp enough to cut the skin of his hands if he pressed down too hard. “Anyway, we can always hope for people on the shore too. In fact, they say there’s a human who lives on the shore of the land nearby.”

“What land?” Doyoung watched the rays of the light source above, the sun as the humans called it, let beams of light strike through the water.  They moved on their own accord, freely, like how he pictured the legs of the dancers as they moved to music above the Surface.

“Hyung it’s called an island, actually.” Jaehyun smirked, teasingly flicking his tail against Doyoung. The pressure of the fins in his sides started to push into his chest, making him feel a little lightheaded. A human…on an island? Above the Surface?

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a legend. Like, legend has it she exists, but she never responds to a siren’s call.”

Something turned in Doyoung’s stomach. “She doesn’t…” he whispered, looking down, thoughts plaguing him.

“Yeah. They tried everything, but…not a single time did she even step closer, or indicate she was affected by the call. Hyung, they even,” Jaehyun grabbed Doyoung’s arm, letting his body float around to face him. “rose above the Surface. A siren-hyung was desperate. And then-“

“And then what?”

“He was never seen again.” For a moment it was silent, Jaehyun’s eyes staring unblinking into his own. Then, his torso erupted in fits of laughter, the fins in his sides uncomfortably moulded to his shaking body. “I can’t believe you fell for that, Hyung.” Doyoung sighed, shrugging off the arms of his younger brother. Above him, the sun burned ferociously, the water lining the edge of the Surface getting lighter.

∞

I had no idea I would meet Doyoung that day at the shore.

I was expecting a stretch of time with nothing to keep me company but the sounds of the rushing waves and the mess of my own thoughts. But alas, the figure became clearer as I walked barefoot across the sands.

Stopping in my tracks, wanting desperately to have some sort of weapon handy instead of a hefty book (though, a book could easily become a weapon if you try hard enough), I called out, chest feeling tight all of a sudden. “Who are you?”

The man was naked excepting the wrap of brown fabric around his hips, and my eyes ran across the weird lines on the sides of his toned chest. He was completely dry.

He didn’t move, and, I couldn’t see his face yet, so it was a surprise to hear his voice for the first time. Not only because I didn’t expect him to speak, but because his voice came as a deep, sonorous sound right into my ears, as if I had earbuds in and had just hit play.

“My name is Doyoung. I’m a siren.”

I should have turned away immediately, ignored him, or even stayed in place, waiting for him to leave. But instead, I did the worst thing you could ever do in such a situation.

In storybooks, sirens use songs that capture you, much like a physical trap, until you’re so far deep you fail to comprehend what you got yourself into. Yet, Doyoung was silent after he finished speaking, after admitting the sin of his existence.

“Are you serious?” The feeling of his chest was rubbery and wet underneath my fingers, despite him looking completely dry. “How is this-“

“Why did you come to me?”

I looked up at his face. He was handsome, but not in the mysterious way that you would expect a mythical creature. Redness and scars peppered across his skin, eyes furrowed in human-like confusion, legs as long as sundown stretched for on this island. His hair was messy, lips tinted red, parted slightly as if he was really breathing. My hands ached to touch his face, but I held back, not wanting to fondle this random…male specimen I had literally just met any longer.

“You’re the girl of the Surface. Like in the stories.”

You squinted, the sun beating down mercilessly between your bare shoulder blades. Getting nervous ay once under his intense gaze, I toyed with the shell necklace around my neck, averting his gaze. “Um, thanks, I guess. But I’m just, well, I’m _.”

“Legend has it siren calls don’t work on you.” Doyoung kept speaking like a narrator in an old timey film, stating facts rather than working to keep a real conversation going. “You look really blurry all the time, but you seem to take on the form of a human female. A young adult one. In all the decades you’ve been here, no one has been able to take you to the seas. You’re an enigma. No one can figure you out.”

I paused, my brain refusing to accept any of this information, but my heart warmed with something gentle and forgiving. I leant over to kiss Doyoung on the cheek. Sure enough, the skin on his face felt wet against my lips, and he tasted like salt. When I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed deep orange.

“May I see you again, Doyoung.” I walked away after that, not knowing this was the start of an endless story, a loop, if you will.

∞

Days and days and days later, I lay down on the sand with Doyoung for the first time.

He lay on top of me, and I hooked one arm around his neck, pulling his face near mine so he could kiss me. He did not. Instead, he rocked his hips against mine, and I felt his hard-on against my clothed core, making me whine. Pieces of sand travelled through strands of my hair, settling on my scalp.

Was this wrong?

He sank his teeth into my teeth, making me shake under him. Iron grip around my wrist and arm, he sucked and nipped the skin of my neck, and I cried out in pleasure. “Oh my god, don’t stop, p-please.” He groaned, his nose nestled into the crook of my neck. Letting go of one of my hands, he brought one between my legs, both of us working together to shrug off my bikini bottoms. Fingers nestled inside me all in one go with no warning, I felt the length of his fingers push against my sensitive walls. I bucked my hips upwards, involuntarily letting him travel knuckle deep inside me. When I climaxed, I dug my teeth into the salty skin of his neck. His eyes were closed the entire time.

“Is this wrong?” Ironically, even as he paused, his hard-on pressed urgently against me, as if answering for me. I shook my head, wanting to feel him inside me, wanting no more than to let my mind and body turn into jelly, to be overwhelmed by sensations akin to ones that made my world shake. I kissed him deeply, fingers digging into his scalp. Despite being so obviously turned on, and proceeding to fuck me at inhumane speeds for the next hour, Doyoung didn’t make a single noise the entire time after that.

∞

You couldn’t stop reading, even as the clock on your bedside shone angrily. Beside you, your husband groaned. “Babe.” One hand was slung messily across his eyes, the sheets revealing a slip of stomach and leg as he shuffled, half asleep. “You’re not reading your diary again, are you?”

“Doie, it’s just so cute. I love reading how we met. And what we did.” You brought your face closer to Doyoung’s, his eyes now sharper, even in the dim lights of your shared bedroom. You made sure the moonlight hit the curve of your hips and ass as you moved to kneel next to him. From his lips to the skin of his face and torso, you watched his body breathe sleepily. So beautiful, you thought.

It had been five years since that day he had crawled out of the water and met you.

Now you were, as Doyoung would say, living life above the Surface, like commoners in a children’s story about witches or pirates. People who fell in love, got married, had babies, then lay to rest on Earth forever.

By some magic, Doyoung was no longer a siren.

But the thought that he might still be one, might still accidentally have trapped you all these years, haunt him.

As you felt Doyoung’s length fully sheath inside you, you frowned, moans spilling senselessly out of your mouth as you rode him. You knew him so well, physically, and emotionally. Leaning over, you kissed him over and over again, the sounds of your hips hitting his pelvis becoming louder as you tried to reach your high. “Shhh…baby…you’re perfect. ” A lone tear slid down his face as he stared into your eyes, as if they were endless voids and not the eyes of his beloved wife. He began to whimper, and the sound of him shaking as he came made you reach your high too, slumping over him as you heaved. “Fuck yes.” You noisily kissed him as your hips began to bounce again, making him throw his head back and moan loudly.

“H-how can this be real?” The ceiling was warping into swirls, and the air was getting hotter. The weight of your thighs that pressed against the sides of his hips were beginning to fade away, and he felt paralysed. Distant voices wafted into the room, as if a filter was suddenly being lifted. Someone shouting his name. He pressed his eyes closed, tight, his hips stuttering as he came down from his second high.

You were gone. But for some reason, he could still feel the smooth surface of the shell that hung from your neck tickle against his neck, as if you were still there on top of him.

“HYUNG!”

His eyes snapped open. He felt a rush of air. Someone sighing, their blurry figure materialising as he came to. “Fuck, you scared us!”

The sun bore down on his face, and Doyoung felt his skin burning under its unforgiving rays. Despite the ache that yelled angrily through his entire body, he sat up, now faced with the rest of his members. Taeyong squatted next to him, holding a cold waterbottle, droplets riding down the outside surface. “Here. Drink this.”

Johnny’s broad figure towered above him, still hazy, but as his face got closer, his voice became clearer. “Where did she go?”

Doyoung frowned, and Johnny matched his expression. Everyone was silent, Doyoung shakily responding. “What are you talking about?” Taeyong tapped him, bringing the bottle closer to his lips.

As the ice-cold liquid rushed down to his stomach, Doyoung was awash with a new sense of clarity. He physically shuddered, as hidden memories of the past five years came to light. His face dropped, his eyes filled with horror. “W-where is she? The girl?”

“As I said, she left after she saw me. It was strange…” Johnny paused, and then pressed his lips together, looking down. The others were silent, and Doyoung whipped his head to all of them. They were all holding back. “What is it?”

Taeyong rested one hand on Doyoung’s bare shoulder, making him flinch. Nodding apologetically, he continued. “She looked vastly different to all of us.”

Jaehyun scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure this is all an elaborate prank, Hyung. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hyung.” The maknae spoke, looking genuinely scared. Yuta patted him gently, as if silently agreeing with his next words. “Jaehyun-hyung saw Taeyong-hyung.”

“I wasn’t there, I swear.” Taeyong lifted both his hands up, his eyes watery and confused. “I swear to you guys.”

“Well, I saw Sarah. From my high school.”

“The girl that you lo-“ Doyoung stopped. Icicles formed in his stomach, the realisation making him sick. “Oh my god.”

“I saw Lavender, Doyoung.” He didn’t need that confirmation, but Taeyong’s voice was shaky now. “I saw her, clear as day. But…there was something off about her. I know this sounds crazy, but, she…she didn’t seem like herself.”

“But…whoever we saw,” Jaehyun still seemed skeptical, side-eyeing Johnny. “They all ran away after the first glance.”

Taeyong’s face was reddened by the harsh sun as Doyoung sat frozen in shock.

“Did she – or he – leave anything behind?”

As the words left his mouth, Doyoung’s hands were already inside the pocket of his pants. He let his fingers run over the shell in his pocket as the rest of the boys muttered their answers.

The words were becoming background noise, his thoughts all-encompassing, consuming him like water on a cold swim. He stood up, much to the surprise of the others. “I’m fine, guys. Meet you at the car? I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He would’ve found another way, even if his members hadn’t reluctantly left him that day at the beach. After all, you had left the necklace in his pocket for a reason. You loved him. You weren’t tricking him. You let him live because you loved him.

“Welcome home, baby.”

Right?

∞

To you, the stories had always fascinated you. The people of the Surface, with their friendly songs and parties, and stupid, blind trust in things that looked like them.

Especially things that looked like desirable women.

It quickly became your life’s mission to have as many as you could, not to share, never…to share. No, this was all for yourself. Nobody else got the Surface like you did. Nobody could scan and hunt on dry land like you did. You were always one step ahead, always planning your next move. In fact, the cute little maknae on the beach today was next on your radar.

But Doyoung…Doyoung was so much fun.

And what is it that they always said?

Oh right.

You’re allowed to have a little bit of fun…until the song ends, of course.

The song was almost over for Doyoung. Despite everything, you were starting to feel…bad, something you had read about in human books. Guilt. You wanted to give him a chance, a chance to walk away, because he honestly seemed like a good human. But obviously, he liked you too much to forget so easily.

You forgot that humans could be naïve like that.

At least you tried. Now, as the sun set on the horizon, it was almost time to head home. You were quickly getting bored, and tired of singing for the day.

[spectralsleuth]

You mentioned that the Hamato household in LSoW and LSoE looks like a wizard's house and that it is filled with furniture that Yoshi inherited from his family... Can you imagine how much historians and antique collectors would be just going gaga about all the priceless stuff in the Hamato home. Like every room has original hand-crafted tables, desks, etc. that can be dated back hundreds of years, the walls have scrolls and weapons crafted by famous masters from 300 years ago. I can just imagine that Yoshi agreed to an interview in his home and, never mind his turtle kids, someone points out the furniture and wall art and people go nuts! This aging action star is just casually mentioning how his sons used to teeth on the chair legs and antique collectors around the world die a little, all while he is sitting on an old chair that was made from a rare tree in Japan worth as much as a down payment on the house and just sipping tea like it's nothing.

Yoshi tapped his foot irritably.

"I really don't understand what the problem is- you sound like my Grandfather." Not a flattering comparison.

"You're not even using a coaster." The camera man looked as if he was in pain, and Yoshi could honestly say that he had not had this much chit-chat from any crew member he'd ever had in his home.

The house was still in a slight state of disarray from the move- there were boxes in the master bedroom stacked to the ceiling, and Blue and Purple had not been separated long enough to be convinced of the benefits of their own bedroom. As a result, both of their bedrooms were half unpacked and mixed together.

Yoshi wasn't particularly passionate about separating the two, but considering every single day it seemed they broke into screaming matches and biting, you would think they would enjoy having their own space as much as Orange and Red did.

It was not so. He could barely get them to sleep in their own bed at this point, but since they were only eight he thought it was prudent to take the separation slow. (At least that was what Dr. Harper had said, when he had floated the idea of encouragement via booby traps and spray bottles by her.)

"It is a piece of furniture- it is meant to be used." It wasn't often that Yoshi thought he was mistranslating English- but he thought this might be one of those situations. The confused looks the Vanity Fair reporter was giving him was selling that impression, and he did not much care for it. "I set things on it? I put- items, in the drawers?" What was the other word for items- funny words, like, oh what was it. "Knick knacks." Sounded like a word for underwear if you asked him.

"This is from the Meiji era." The camera man explained, reverently removing Yoshi's coffee mug from the polished wooden surface. A lost cause, since there was already many overlapping rings of differing shades of brown covering the surface.

There were chips and scuffs covering the top, small marks where Red had rolled over the top during chases with his brothers and left shell-shaped divots, and where Blue and Purple had scratched with idle claws while watching the Mr. Nye TV show. There were crayon marks on the sides, where Orange had run off of his paper with his crayons. He was a good boy and did not draw on furniture on purpose, but accidents happened, and Xander often could not keep up.

"Yes, my great great grandfather commissioned it. I believe from the Emperor's carpenters, to celebrate the new constitution and property they bought in- well, I honestly do not recall. Is this relevant?" Yoshi asked wearily, feeling a twinge of displeasure at even starting to sound like his Ojii lecturing on history.

"There's only about fifty pieces made total in this style- there's no nails in the construction, look it's all joinery on the shelves-" The camera-man was saying, and to Yoshi's displeasure the reporter was still recording using the small device in her hand.

"I thought we were discussing my new movie." Yoshi pointed out, not plaintively, because he was a grown man with four children. "I mean, I have older furniture than that in the bathroom."

The camera man paused, and stared at him. "... Sorry?"

"The bathroom." Yoshi pointed out, and (sensing another translation issue possibly), said "It is where you piss."

"Piss!" Orange yelled from the hallway, where he went sprinting by with the tap-tap-tap of feet.

"DO NOT REPEAT THAT!" Yoshi called out. He was drowned out by Blue and Red fast on Oranges tail, screaming with laughter. It was nice to hear Red's laughter for a change, but since his eldest was also chasing his brothers with a stock pot and a spoon, Yoshi thought he should intervene. "Excuse me, one moment."

Red was only willing to trade the stockpot for a yardstick, which he began beating on Blue and Orange's shells respectively. Since his two youngest were giggling wildly, Yoshi left them to it and turned on cartoons in one of the bedrooms for them to watch when they grew tired of hitting each other.

By the time he got back to the Vanity Fair crew, they had gathered in the hallway, and were being shown the bathroom by a very pleased looking Purple.

"Ah Purple, excellent work my son- ah. I was kidding about the furniture-"

"No you weren't." The cameraman accused, looking frantic and pale. "This is a silver backed oriental mirror from under- oh I don't know. Kōmei? Ninkō?

"Kōka." Yoshi corrected, hating himself. "So, both probably."

Purple tugged on the cameraman's sleeve, and (looking hesitant) the camera man bent down to listen as Purple cupped hands around his snout in order to whisper in his ear.

"YOU WRITE ON IT?" The man gasped, looking appalled.

"I have raised a tattle-taler." Yoshi said mournfully, as Purple looked smugly at him from behind the reporter's legs. "Why don't you go help smack your brothers you snitch?"

Purple's tail started thumping against the cabinet at the idea, and he dropped to all fours to put on speed as he darted out between Yosh's legs and down the hall.

"Why are you so obsessed with furniture anyway?" Yoshi asked the cameraman after Purple had disappeared down the stairs, and he heard Blue and Orange start squealing in delight.

"My parents own a museum exhibit." The camera man said idly, pulling the mirror back from the wall enough to peer behind, and make a wounded noise. "It has the manufacturer seal on it still."

"Oh course it does. All Hamato furniture is authentic."

"It has crayon on it." The camera man looked close to tears.

"Yes?" Yoshi didn't understand the question. He looked at the reporter, who was still recording and writing furiously. "You are going to want to put this into the article, aren't you?" Yoshi sighed.

The reporter gave him a winning smile. "I think our readers would enjoy this very much Mr. Hamato."

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter eight — saturday

WORD COUNT — 1,967

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — GUYS THIS IS IT!! THE KICKOFF FOR THE ARC

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Your thoughts have been entirely scrambled since your trip to New York city. Even though it’s been an entire week, the ecstasy of seeing your friends again, of sharing your favorite parts of the city with Newt, still lingered. 

Despite it, you were happy to return to your normal life again. The Monday after the trip, a two week long group assignment was assigned in your photography class. It wasn’t anything too difficult, just a portfolio of three types of photography containing a small explanatory paragraph and two pictures for each photography type, all taken and edited by yourself and a partner — who had been chosen for everyone by Ms. Porter. Almost coincidentally, your assigned partner was Sonya. 

This particular assignment led you to today. For a while, you’d been working with Sonya on the assignment; taking the photos you wanted after school and working on them the next day during class. You’d agreed to go to her house today in order to compile whatever else you needed to finish off the assignment before its Tuesday due date. 

You stood on the porch of Newt and Sonya’s barn-style home, admiring it as you knocked on the door and awaited a response. 

Within seconds, Sonya pulled the door open with a bright smile and beckoned you inside. 

Stepping inside the quiet home, you noticed its similar layout to Brenda’s house, though it was much smaller. The nook that held Brenda's bookcase had been knocked down and was a pseudo art studio, with an easel and canvases and floating shelves to hold art supplies, not to mention the newspapers covering the floor to protect the hardwood. 

“We have the whole house to ourselves,” Sonya told you as you took in the home, walking over to the living room. “Mom’s on shift until 7, and Newt probably won’t be awake for a few hours, either.” 

You nodded, admiring the artwork covering the lovely blue walls. You almost forgot that their mother was a nurse at the hospital on the other side of town, but neither of the siblings talked about it much. But you weren’t surprised that Newt was still asleep — Thomas had mentioned several times that Newt’s sleeping habits were anything but regular, and were the main reason he didn’t hang out with people until late afternoon on weekends and holidays. 

As you sat down on the comfortable, worn couch and placed your bag by your feet, you glanced back at the art studio, before looking at Sonya as she came to stand to your left. “Is that yours?”

She glanced over at the area and laughed. “God, I wish. I’m more of a sketch and photography person. That’s my moms art.” 

“That’s nice,” you said, “it runs in the family, then? The art stuff,”

“Yeah, she usually paints there after work if she feels up to it, sometimes she takes a commission or two to make extra cash. Pretty much everything hung up in the house is hers, or it’s something her friends overseas have sent her.”

You nodded, taking in everything again. “Is she why you’re so into art?”

“Yeah, actually, she is,” Sonya nodded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I always wanted to paint with her when I was young, and she got me a sketchbook one year for Christmas and that was it. Another year, not long after we moved here, I got a camera for my birthday. It’s nice to share that with her, y’know?”

You looked up at the girl and smiled, “Yeah, I do. My mom tried to teach me ballet as a kid, but I didn’t quite inherit her grace or balance, so…”

Sonya chuckled, standing as she told you she’d grab her backpack and a few snacks for you both to eat while you worked. While she was gone, you slipped your laptop from your bag, cracking it open and loading up the assignment document. Sonya came back in as you slid the laptop onto the coffee table, juggling two bowls of fruit, laptop tucked under one arm and two water bottles cradled in the other. 

Noticing her visible struggle, you stood and took the bottles and a bowl of fruit from her grasp, allowing her to grab her laptop and take her place to your right, the second bowl of fruit landing on the coffee table. 

Sonya snagged a piece as she opened her own laptop, and you opened and sipped on one of the water bottles before you decided to dive into what was left of the project. “I was thinking that you’d do the paragraphs and I’d go through and choose what photos we should use, and then we’ll edit everything together to make sure it sounds good enough?”

You nodded, opening the Google Drive that you’d put all the photos in. “Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll add you to the document so you can put the photos there when you’ve got them figured out.”

Since you’d also required a bit of extra research for the paragraph part of the assignment, you and Sonya spent the better part of an hour on just that section of the assignment. The nature photography paragraph was a breeze; but the other two seemed to be the worst types of photography you could have ever chosen. 

As you compiled the final bullet points for the third paragraph, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, catching yours and Sonya’s attention as you both leaned against the back of the couch.

Newt thumped down the stairs with little care, wearing a plain white shirt that was so worn and faded that it barely counted as white anymore, and slightly oversized blue plaid pajama pants that pooled at his feet. You could see indents on his arm and cheek from the way he’d slept, and his hair was entirely untamed, sticking up every which way, as though gravity had no effect on it. His face was scrunched up, eyes still adjusting to daylight, and he scratched lazily at his scalp as he reached the first floor, shuffling into the kitchen, where he grabbed a cereal box from the counter and began pulling out small handfuls, shoving them into his mouth without care. 

You bit back a laugh as he carried the box outside the kitchen, likely wanting to make his way back upstairs. There was no denying that, even though you were sure there was absolutely no way anyone could look cute after waking up, Newt somehow managed to. The thought caught you off guard, and you did your best to calm the burning that stung your cheeks and neck. 

Sonya, with an entire mischievous look on her face, called out, “Nice to see you’ve woken from your coma, prince charming.” 

Newt jumped, the cereal rattling in the box as it almost got sent flying from his palm across the hardwood. He scowled, “Bloody hell, Sonya! What that hell is wrong—” Newt’s eyes locked onto yours, his face falling as you smiled at him. 

Lifting a hand, you waved at the boy. “Hey,”

He blinked. “Sorry, uh— what are you doing here, exactly?”

“Group project,” Sonya responded. “I told you about it yesterday on the way home?”

“Yeah but I thought that wasn’t until later,”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. “Newt, it’s like, 1 o’clock.”

“Oh,” the boy nodded simply before turning and heading up the stairs. 

You turned back to your computer, as did Sonya, your original train of thought completely lost. Newt’s departure seemed to only make things worse, because without his presence, your mind was invaded with thoughts about his appearance, about how you’d thought how cute he was — about how you still thought he was cute. It ran in circles, bouncing from what had just happened to the conversation you’d had with your friends the week before. 

“Y/n?” Sonya snapped you back to the present. 

“Sorry, what?”

The blonde girl laughed. “I said, we’re basically done. I can edit everything from here. You can go home if you want, I’ll text you when it’s done, so we can submit it together on Classroom.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

As you packed up your laptop, Sonya furrowed her eyebrows at you. “Are you okay? You zoned out for the last little bit, there.”

You nodded, slipping your laptop into your bag. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking. Lotta stuff to do when I get home, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but feel bad about lying to Sonya, even if it was practically minuscule. You’d been getting quite close to her over the weeks, and you knew how much she cared about her friends, but there was just no way you were going to tell her that you’d been thinking about how cute you thought her brother was for who knows long, let alone what your friends had told you in New York. 

You helped the girl put the bowls of fruit back in the fridge, grabbed the water bottle she’d given you, and slung your bag over your shoulder. She led you back to the door, and you said your goodbyes, heading down the driveway and putting your headphones in. 

The walk home wasn’t too long, but it was filled with welcome distractions. The sounds of your favorite songs playing through your headphones, the beauty of the small town, and the slight chill of the cooling air that came with New York Octobers. 

Upon your arrival home, you found the house unsurprisingly empty. Maggie and your dad went to the city for the weekend to finalize wedding plans while your dad had a meeting in town, and Thomas was with Minho and Gally, who would likely later be joined by Newt. After a quick check in on Chuck, you found him immersed in a video game and decided not to interrupt him until you were deciding on what to make for dinner. 

Since you were in the clear to do virtually nothing for the next few hours, you rushed upstairs and into your room, dropping your bag by your desk and closing your bedroom door, releasing a heavy sigh as you rested your forehead on the wood. All your mind could focus on were the thoughts of Newt, and it was beginning to overwhelm you. It recalled every single detail you had committed to memory about the blond since you’d met in the parking lot — every word spoken, every inflection in his voice, every gesture he’s made, big or small. 

You wondered why he would go through such trouble to arrange just an afternoon of time with your friends, taking you to see them, spending time with them, when you knew that he much preferred sleeping until noon on the weekends. 

You thought about his hair, about how perfect you always thought it looked, even in the state you’d seen it in earlier. 

You thought about his voice, about the cadence and how it had a sort of gruffness to it; how it always soothed you. 

You thought about his eyes, how dark they were, but how beautiful they were under the sunlight. About how much he seemed to care about everyone, about how much he did for everyone. 

You thought about everything you knew about him, physical or emotional. How he could be so open and honest with you despite not knowing you for very long. About everything he’d gone through with his father and still came through it stronger. 

You thought about how he managed to make you feel as happy as you were before your mom died without thinking, without trying. How you felt as close to him as you used to feel with your mom, about how he was just so — oh. 

Oh.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

[amybizarre]

Royal (Reincarnated As The King's Future Spouse P1)

(Yeahhh... It's one of those manwha style reincarnation concepts-)

_______________________________

Last thing you remembered was driving home from work late at night, when some idiot swerved into your lane right in front of your car.

Flashing lights.  Loud crashes.

Pain.

Darkness.

A brief moment of red and blue lights outside your broken windshield.

More darkness.

Sweet relief.

Floating.

Comfy.

...

<^> <^> <^>

.....

Birds chirping. Behind your closed eyelids, you sensed warm, early morning sunlight. But no outside breeze brushed over your face.

You were in a bed. It didn't feel familiar to you. The mattress and pillow were far more comfortable than anything you ever slept on. And definitely too comfortable for a hospital bed!

You groaned quietly and stretched your sore limbs. Yep, bed was also wayyy too big for a hospital bed. Feeling around you failed to find the edge of the mattress on either side of you.

Your head was still fuzzy and your thoughts all muddled up. Deciding that now wasn't your time to get up, you shifted onto your side, slid your hands underneath your head and pillow and dozed off again.

Why was it so quiet? You lived in a city, you should have heard at least a few cars by now. But no motors could be heard anywhere. Only the peaceful and quiet birdsong from outside a window was audible.

And the muffled footsteps and chatter of people walking by outside the room you were in.

Was this your room then? Maybe.

You would discover more information about your situation after an extra nap though.

...

<^> <^> <^>

...

The second time you awoke in this unfamiliar, but definitely heavenly bed, not a lot seemed to have changed. It was brighter now, indicating that the early morning had turned into full on day. The birdsong was still there. So was the absence of noisy cars outside.

Still a little groggy, you opened your eyes. Only for them to immediately gorw the size of plates.

You scrambled to sit up straight and took in the room in amazement. (And slight alarm)

Everything around you seemed so... Ornate. Luxurious even. Indeed, the bed you had slept in was pretty big. It wasn't a four poster bed, but nonetheless it's dark, wooden frame was carved with intricate vine-like patterns. This artistry in woodwork could be found on all the furniture items within the bedroom. On the desk. The cushioned chair accompanying it. The wadrobe. The shelves and drawers. The two armchairs in front of the small fireplace- Everything.

Everything was also kept in warm and inviting colors, such as a warm créme or red.

Still staring at everything completely awestruck, you reached up to rub your head.

With surprise, you felt bandages underneath your fingertips.

Huh? How did this happen? You barely remembered the crash, but how did you get from the road to.... Here? Wherever here was.

Only really one way to find out. You move the heavy covers to the side and crawl to the edge of the bed. Your feet met fur, when you set them on the ground.

Alarmed you pulled your feet back up, worried you stepped onto an animal. But when you looked it was the hide of a wolf, spread out like a rug.

Uh.... Was this a real hide...? Was this kind of thing still allowed even? Last time you checked this kind of thing was trendy in the medieval ages.

You stepped onto the pelt. It's luscious fur tickled your feet. You smiled and wiggled your toes at the new sensation. Kneeling down beside the pelt, you lifted it up slightly to look underneath.

Yep, that definitely was a real hide, judging by the leathery texture underneath. You couldn't find a tag anywhere, only confirming your suspicions.

As you knelt beside the pelt, bum up in the air, you suddenly heard laughter behind you.

Alarmed you shot up, scrambling to get back onto your feet. Your head immediately swirled with dizziness. But you fought it off to look around for whoever was laughing at you.

At first you couldn't find the culprit. Until they, or rather, she, snorted out: "Oh my! What are you doing?? Have you never seen a pelt before??"

Aaand she went right back to laughing her tiny, glowing butt off. You didn't know whether to be embarrassed or intruiged. Either way, you were blushing and staring.

Only a few inches away from your face floated a tiny person! She was roughly the size of your palm and looked like a fallen star! Literally. Her face had the shape of a star. From her skin to her golden dress, everything about her was glowing.

You wanted to say something, but only ended up opening and closing your mouth repeatedly.

"Wh-Who are you? What are you?" You finally managed to ask, interrupting her endless laughter.

"Have you lost your mind also, (prince/princess)?" The tiny lady asked you teasingly. "I'm Sally Starlet. Your very own faery godmother."

You were confused. "Faery? But I tought they weren't real and only existed in magical stories?"

She gasped loudly in exasperation, clutching her pearls with dramatic guestures.

"You...! I am very much real! And magical! See??" To prove her point, she trwirled around, emmitting glowing particles, that twinkled not unlike glitter.

Huh. Little faery, big personality.

"You should seriously remember me-!"

You shook your head. "I must have lost my mind then..."

Which wasn't too far from the thruth, considering the situation you were in.

"I don't remember anything." Anything from this world, at least.

Sally's eyes widened in surprise and she flickered nervously. "Nothing at all...?"

She flew closer to your head, doing a few laps around it, inspecting the bandage on it.

"Oh dear, seems like that riding accident two days ago was worse than we thought..., " she mumbled under her breath.

You heard her though, and tilted your head. "Accident?"

"Yes, yes. Accident." Sally sighed. "Let me brief you real quick."

You nodded and sat back down on the bed, paying attention to her. She took a deep breath and started.

"Let's start with the basics. You, my dear, are your royal highness (Y/n) (L/n), Crown-(Prince/Princess) of Spades."

Woah! You're a what now? Sick!

"You're currently traveling with your uncle, the royal advisor, and me, your faery godmother to meet your fiancé, his royal highness, the King of Hearts."

Oh. Oh no-

"Fiancé? Are we in love?", you interrupt Sally.

She crossed her arms. "I don't think so. His and your union was arranged by your father, the King of Spades and the late Queen of Hearts. May the gods bless her soul. You will meet your 'beloved' for the first time today."

You gulped nervously. What kind of feverdream did you land in? By now you had decided that this most strange situation of waking up in a magical fantasy world must be some sort of coma-induced dream. A very vivid one, that is. A very real one...

"Can you tell me more about this arrangement, please?"

Sally complied without question. Apparently, the two kingdoms - Spades and Hearts - used to be at war with each other a few decades ago. The kingdom of Hearts won and the previous King of Spades (your grandfather) was replaced by your father. Him and the late Queen of Hearts had worked out a contract to keep the peace between the two nations for future generations as well. This included the arrangement of marrying their future heirs off to each other. However, the two also decided to allow their children to be, well, children and to let them meet for the first time when both of them were adults. And now here you were! On the way to the palace of Hearts, to fulfill this contract.

Your head swirled after taking in so much information at once. By now you were rubbing your aching forehead with your elbows on your knees.

"So! Let me get this straight...," you muttered, "I'm on my way to marry a man, who I've - not only- never met before, but he also rules a kingdom that was at war with mine."

"Yeppers-" Sally concluded matter-of-factly. "So, we better get you back on the road. You've got a war to prevent."

You gasped. "What-?"

She quickly waved you off. "A hypothetical one, don't worry."

Already too late for that. You were worrying. About a lot of things, actually.

With the help of Sally's advice - or rather instructions - you got dressed and readied yourself to be presentable for a king.

The fantasy-esque clothes were definitely something you'd need to get used to. Considering how (pretty/handsome) you felt in them, you didn't think it' d be much of a problem though.

When you brushed your hair, Sally also revealed to you, that you were currently at the residence of Baron and Baroness Merciful, who were kind enough to allow your small party to rest in their home after your accident.

You made a mental note to express your gratitude to them. On your way down the stairs, Sally quietly explained to you, who was who. God bless her thoughtfulness.

You made your way into a country style furnished entrance hall and from there to the right into the kitchen, where you heard voices.

There you were greeted by the sight of a purple haired, bearded man sitting at the table, enjoying a cup of tea. He was Rasmodius (L/n), your uncle in this universe.

Across from him sat a well kept, red haired man with a goatee, who was chatting with him about their travels. This man was the baron.

His wife, the baroness was standing by the window, quietly observing something outside. Her hair was also of a striking red - a trait you will find very common in the Kingdom of Hearts - and braided to a simple hairstyle.

Upon your entrance, the conversation between the baron and your uncle halted, both glancing over at you. Rasmodius' eyes lit up with with joy.

He rose from his seat and pulled you into a tight hug, almost squashing Sally, who had rested on your shoulder. "My sweet (Y/n)! I'm so glad you're up and moving again!"

You awkwardly hugged him back. He was basically a stranger to you, mind you. So this whole situation was a little difficult for you to handle. But you did so gracefully, unwilling to let your "loss of memory" get through to him.

"Thanks, uncle. I feel rested and well enough for the road.", you replied, upcoming journey in the back of your mind.

Despite her tiny size, Sally tried to pry Rasmodius off of you, for some reason.

"We get it, old man! You're glad they're still alive! But let go now, before you break their ribs- And ruin their outfit..."

Oh, that's why.

Admittedly, you still felt a bit dizzy, but weren't sure whether to blame it on your head injury or current situation.

Your uncle complied to Sally's request with a sheepish smile. He beckoned you to sit down at the table with him and the baron.

"Come now. You must be starving."

Indeed, you were. You were ready to eat a whole bear. Instead of a bear, however, the baroness gently set a plate down in front of you.

Scrambled eggs and a roasted slice of garlic bread. It smelled absolutely delicious.

"My husband and I are also overjoyed to see you doing better, (prince/princess). I know the food may not be what you're used to, but I'm sure it will satisfy you all the same.", she spoke in a gentle voice.

You smiled. "Thank you very much. I don't mind, it looks delicious."

You and her both chuckle quietly, before she pat your shoulder and let you eat.

"Here, have some tea as well. It's formidable in this kingdom!" Your uncle enthusiastically slid a cup across the table towards you.

The baron chuckled. "Thank you. Our king loves his tea. So much in fact, that he revolutionized the way it's grown here."

Oh wow. You've never been a big fan of tea, but opted to try it anyway. Just to be polite. When the people here were so proud of their tea, you'd better drink it.

And boy, was it good! It had a rich and aromatic taste, that was comforting and refreshing at the same time. And a little sweet too. Truly, the best tea you ever had. Or maybe you just sucked at making it yourself. But you'd never admit that.

Soon enough, breakfast was over. Your uncle declared it was best to hit the road again as soon as possible. Lest you keep your 'beloved fiancé' waiting.

Servants readied your horses outside, while him and you expressed your gratitude for the baron's and baroness' hospitality. And then it was time for you to face the first challenge of your stay here. Riding.

"The white horse is yours, the brown one your uncle's." Sally filled you in, as you hesitated in front of the animals.

You paused for a different reason however.

You were scared. The animal in front of you was big. And muscular. It could run you over in a heartbeat if it wanted to, and trample you with its hooves. Now that you thought about it, you had never faced a horse before.

And now that one was staring at you, its nostrils flared to an unsettling degree, you found yourself frozen.

Rasmodius, blissfully unaware of your silent panic, gently pushed you further towards the animal.

"I know it's a bit nerve wrecking to ride again after an accident, but you gotta get back into the saddle quickly, before you develop fear.", he happily rumbled on.

Too late for that-

He continued. "Look, Starla is also a bit nervous to have you on her back again, but don't fret. I'll keep a hand on her reigns as well, just in case."

With these words, Rasmodius lifted you up and into the saddle in one fell swoop before you could say anything. You tensed up in the saddle.

The horse, whose name you now assumed was Starla, picked up on that and nervously pawed at the ground.

Why was this so high up? Your head swirled again, when you looked down. So you settled for staring forward instead.

You picked up her reigns, unsure how to hold them or what to do with them. You just clenched your fists around them, hoping for the best. Rasmodius mounted his horse as well and got a hold of Starla's reigns as promised.

A few last goodbyes were exchanged with the Mercifuls and off you, Sally and your uncle went.

Sally got comfortable between Starla's ears. A brave choice, if anyone asked you, considering how much they moved around. Her ears weren't the only thing moving however.

Her entire back rocked from side to side with every step she took. With how tense you were, this made it really hard for you not to fall again.

Sally glanced back at you. Her initial smile of enjoyment, turned to a frown of worry, when she saw your distressed expression. She fluttered over to your shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

You hesitated for a moment, trying not to break into a cold sweat.

"Th-the horse, I-" You didn't know how to explain yourself.

"Relaaax..." Sally whispered as to not to alarm Rasmodius, patting your hair. "The more you tense the harder it is for you and your horse. You gotta loosen up in your waist and let your lower half swing with her steps."

You tried to follow her secret instructions. Surprisingly you found it fairly easy to do. As if your body remembered doing this, even though your mind didn't. It became a whole lot easier to keep your balance.

"There you go. Keep doing that for now. I'll organize lessons for you later, yeah?"

You nodded to Sally, thankful for her help once more.

Your small group rode through the countryside for a few hours. You passed through a few villages and lush forests, which sights you drank in in wonder. Everything was so... Fantastical and medieval. It seemed like you truly time travelled.

Plus, looking around had the benefit of distracting yourself from the fact you were riding a big animal, you had no clue how to control.

All it took, was for the horse to make up its mind and run off and it would take your helpless ass with it to oblivion.

Uh oh. Bad thoughts! Quick! Distract yourself!

You focused on the road ahead as your group reached the peak of a hill. The road led into the first city in the distance. Behind it the vast blue sea, barely visible underneath the horizon. And on the coast line, in an elevated position, stood the palace of Hearts, reaching tall and proud into the sky. Made entirely of white bricks and red ornaments, its elegant spires rose far above the capital below. Truly a majestic piece of architectural genius, you found. All in all, a breathtaking sight to behold.

You were nearing the destination of your journey.

There, inside this beautiful castle waited your new future, which you hoped would be equally as beautiful.

<^> <^> <^>

The sun had begun to set, dipping the world in a warm, golden glow upon your arrival at the castle. A fanfare played, when your group rode through the gates into the castle courtyard. Servants hurried over to take care of your horses and luggage and two guards took you inside.

You entered an entrance hall the size of a cathedral, high arches carrying red banners with the crest of Hearts on them.

The setting sun filtered through the tall windows, sending sleek rays of golden delight to the polished marble floor.

Amidst this stunning scenery was he. Standing proudly in his castle, ready to welcome you with open arms and a kind smile.

A figure of authority, dressed in elegant attire and his signature red cloak with white fur. His red hair combed up into a neat pompadour.

His heels clicked across the floor, as he approached you, Sally and your uncle.

There he was.

His royal highness Wally Darling, the King of Hearts.

Your future husband.

[devilisaloser]

Philip smiled brightly at the compliment and lifted his hand to fist-bump him in return. Maybe this wasn't much, but Damien clearly had an influence on Pip; often leading him to causing mischief just like the Devil Prince did. This, staying at the library? That was his favourite kind. Nothing too evil, nothing that dangerous, yet still mischievous and fun. Not to mention he would get to spend the time alone with Damien, which was definitely worth it.

"Oh dear, that sounds like a lot of fun!" he exclaimed in a hushed voice, taking a spot next to Damien, hiding together. "I definitely want to watch some movies! Did you have anything in mind?" he asked, staring at him. Maybe being evil wasn't in his style, but it felt different with Damien in the picture. There's the awe in his gaze as he stares at him, impressed and ready to follow him through the plan. Maybe he was a little too excited about the whole idea because as he listened to Damien's plans, his wings, horns, and tail popped out. He was unable to hold them back, but he didn't mind and didn't even notice at first. Not until his tail brushed against Damien as he waved it.

There's no time to comment on that when Damien warns him about the librarian. Pip moves to duck even lower, hiding behind Damien slightly, looking up curiously. It might be one of the wildest things he had done in a while, which likely says a lot about the scales of what he considers 'wild'. He waited until the steps went further towards the door, peeking slightly to watch as the librarian left the room and locked it, unknowingly trapping Pip and Damien inside.

Of course, that's exactly how it was supposed to be. Pip chuckled and turned to look at Damien. "What do you want to do first." @pips-cup-of-tea

---

Damien was sure that they had been caught by the look on the librarian’s face. Her nose was scrunched and her eyebrows were raised as if she had smelled something terrible and she was looking right at them! That was when she snatched a half eaten bag of chips off of the nearest study table, tossed it into one of the little trash cans, and turned to leave. They had been spared by the perfect distraction in the form of a bag of off brand cheesy poofs! Even with Pip’s wings hovering right up to the third row up of books on the shelf they were hiding behind for a moment, the librarian hadn’t seen a thing! After the sound of the doors locking echoed off the walls, Damien felt his shoulders lower: they did it! A couple of years ago, this would have been a nightmare of Damien’s; he hated it when Satan would tell him that he had a fun night planned for the two of them, and half of the time, that night would be a night in Satan’s library in Hell; if Damien had to hear one more love poem, even if it included blood, horror, zombies, and all of that cool stuff, it would be his true villain origin story. Now, though? He and Pip had a movie night of blood, horror, and zombies ahead of them, but without all of the rhyming sentences and cheesy declarations of love! That, and, he guessed that Pip could make some suggestions, too. It was only fair.

“So, I was thinking, we could start with the new ‘Nuns in Alabama’ or we could go with the classic ‘Lint Man’,” he flipped through a couple of DVDs in his hands, “It’s about a guy who leaves lint as evidence after he takes over space stations on Mars,” he summarized, skimming over the description on the back of the case. “That’s not even realistic. Wouldn’t the lint just float away in space?” With that, Damien tossed the case over his shoulder and it bounced twice on the ground before skidding to a stop in the next aisle down.

“There’s ‘The Forgotten Lasagna’. Looks pretty good,” he handed the beat up case to Pip with a picture of a piece of Lasagna with a pair of robot arms and legs on it. The background was of tall walls of fire, a detail that had caught Damien’s eye when he was pulling a ton of DVDs off of the shelves earlier that night. “Unless you want to do something else? Uncap all of the dry erase markers? Circle all of the Waldos in the Where’s Waldo? books? Boot up the computers and play some games?”

[random-meme-bot]

Finally after all this time, I can finally present my two OCs

Elizabeth (Elly) [Up] & Dan [Down]

Elly is a 20-something year old girl, who after a strange car accident she had as a kid, gained the ability to see and interact with ghosts.

This caused her to not really have many "alive" friends as many people get weirded out by her "talking alone", and by her interests on the supernatural, on the other hand she finds easy to talk and establish relatioships with "ghosts".

Ghosts such as Dan, Elly's BestFriend & Trusty Partner.

Dan always has an smile on his face and a personality to match, he really likes to talk about it's interest specially to new people, he knows basically every ghost on the block so he's always excited to speak to any alive person (much to Elly's displeasure)

He is a mystery, even to Elly, all she knows about him is that he's older than her, and that his reason for not moving away and staying as a ghost is that he didn't manage to become a suscesfull writer.

By far Dan's biggest secret is his form, ghosts don't have a physical form, yet most of them tend to take a form similar to the one they had while they were still alive, Dan says that he prefers to look like that as it helps him get in character for his horror novels, but Elly dosen't buy it...

He runs a BookShop named "Hexes on the Shelves" in which he self-publishes and sells his books, (so far he's only sold one copy of one of the books) (it was to Elly...) (...she never finished it)

They met after some kids challenged Elly to enter "The Haunted Abandoned BookShop", this led to Dan hiring her as to try to attract a more "alive" audience.

Elly's paranormal interests usually leds to them exploring supoused "Haunted" locations and either helping whichever ghost is haunting them "pass away", or cathching whoever is behind the fake hauntings Scooby-Doo style.

To aid them in their adventures (as Elly likes to call them), Elly lets Dan posses her body so he can talk to people, do things she dosen't want to, and use her body as a channeling tool for his "Ghost powers", this leaves Elly as a small ghost with not really a form, and barelly any ghost abilities as she isn't fully-dead.

Don't want to overtuff this post, so random small things under the read more

The hat they wear is Dan's

It's a normal hat so people usually just see a hat floating around

To mimic it's sharp looking mouth while as a ghost, possessed Dan always shows sharp teeth or fangs.

The lighter parts of ghosts are where most of their energy is

When Ghost Elly gets angry she looses control of her powers leading to the tips of her ghost form growing and becoming sharper (which I tried to make look like messy hair but im not sure it looks quite right)

Elly's glasses and the heart on her shirt changes depending of who's soul is in the body.

This makes no sense and I don't have an explanation but I thought it was cool so let me have it.

dan is a diminutive of Daniel, but like with it's form he dosen't really talk about what it was.

[goblin-writer]

A New Purpose

CW: Death (first time I’ve used one of these but it’s appropriate this time I guess?)

Death stood before their shelves. Bottles filled with various swirling colours stared balefully down at them. Their work was lonely, and yet through everything they were never alone. The souls they gathered were often spoken to by one of the various afterlives. It was the others that kept them company even now.

Death pulled off their cloak revealing large white wings and a pure red tunic with white collar and epaulettes. They had favoured it since they first came into style and since they left. It was a striking uniform that had represented death for so many, albeit with gold instead of white. Death’s hair was black as jet tied back into a ponytail, leaving their sharp cheekbones and blazing eyes free to those that would look at them after their final moments.

With a thought a new shelf appeared below the current one and death placed their most recent bottle onto it. Even they didn’t know why some souls weren’t spoken for, there was no rhyme or reason. And they did so rarely leave their possession. Still, there was always a purpose in death and they were determined to discover what it was.

With a single push from their wings Death shot upwards to an office that floated disjointedly in the air amidst the shelves and furniture that they kept. Death sat at their desk and looked at the mirror on their desk. Its silver edges radiated a purple glow. Someone was trying to contact them. With a wave of their hand they saw the face of a small cat with dun fur and bright eyes.

“It worked?”

“Did you think I would not answer?”

“No, never, Great Dowager.” It was a title given to Death by many, not one they liked but they couldn’t fault them. Staring Death in the face was difficult, let alone naming them.

“What then is the purpose for our interaction?”

“I have a request,” That was unusual, but cats so often were, they had some kinship with ravens in that regard, “A human that cared for me is doing poorly. Could you help them.”

“Curing the ill is not my remit. You should ask my twin.”

“I know, I know. But – they said they could do nothing.” While cats had exceptional intelligence, they did not believe that humans could die so easily. Nor were they usually so attached. Maybe it was time for an exception.

“Very well. I shall be there shortly.” The connection cut off. If their twin could not help then life was no longer extant. Death did not like being without options. They gathered their bag of tools and, on impulse grabbed a coruscating soul from near the door.

They stepped out and appeared in a living room. A couch and a chair, a coffee table, and a television. The entire house smelled slightly of fragrant teas. It was a drink they enjoyed, herbal and invigorating.

The cat from before sat at their feet and nodded once before walking to and hopping onto the coffee table. As Death expected; the person was dead. Still, they had not taken them and they could not see who had. So, Death took out various devices and turned them on. It took a while to calibrate but eventually they found a trace of one of the Houses of the Dead. Thanatos had claimed this one. They were in for a good afterlife all things considered.

It was one thing Death could not do, and that was bring a body back to life. They had tried with the magic and technology of all ages, and had failed. Still, they dutifully tried.

They might be akin to a deity to some animals and they refused to let them down without honest attempts. Despite all their alchemical knowledge life did not return, nor did Life come to interfere. After an hour they sat back with a sigh.

“You have my condolences. I cannot do more.”

“I was afraid you would say that, but had wanted to believe.”

“The end of life is natural; we cannot turn back the clock.” And as Death spoke the cat walked up to their bag and grabbed the bottle between their teeth, padding over to them and setting it down.

“You haven’t tried this.” The cat murmured.

“It’s a soul, there is nothing that can be done.”

“You haven’t tried this.” The cat said again quietly.

“How would you imagine this would work?”

“You haven’t tried this.” The cat was firmer. Death wasn’t used to being contradicted by cats.

“If this soul is let out and doesn’t do anything then what? Will you be happy?”

“You haven’t tried.” That was too much. Death stood And stalked to the window, looking out, down a long hill along which grew flowers and ancient trees. Birds danced in the air and far in the distance, really specks for human eyes, death saw a family approaching the house. They looked similar to the deceased.

But Death couldn’t put souls into bodies on a whim. They also didn’t like hurting people. Or for that fact breaking the trust that the animals had with them. They had tried, the cat’s accusation was unfair. But had they tried everything?

Death’s wings unfolded as they took off their cloak. Rolled back their sleeves and opened the bottle. Leaning over the person they poured the soul into their eyes. Seeing them shimmer for a moment with that glow that had been in the bottle a moment before. Death watched, in something like a trance as the now second-hand soul made its way through the eyes and into the body. It was difficult to know where a soul resided but this one found its way.

As it took hold Death saw signs of life returning and straightened up, looking at the cat. It bowed its head in thanks. At least they were thanked, that was another achievement for the day. With a pat on the cats head, Death gathered their belongings and headed out the door they entered from.

Floating above them on silver wings was another figure. The spitting image of Death. With a sigh Death launched themselves upwards.

“Hello Life.”

“What do you think you’ve done?”

--

Thank you to @flashfictionfridayofficial​ for  a lovely prompt that had me going one of two ways. Really enjoyed this and hope everyone does too :>

[joshconnor]

Floating Shelves

Introduction

Fitnfloat is a brand that specializes in providing a variety of floating shelves, which are a popular and versatile addition to any home, offering both functionality and style. Whether you're looking to display books, photos, or decorative items, or simply need more storage space, floating shelves are a great option that can complement any room's decor. From wall-mounted shelves to corner shelves, picture ledges to kitchen shelves, we'll explore the best options for your specific needs, and help you make an informed decision. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast, a professional designer, or a casual home decorator, this article has something for everyone who wants to add a touch of elegance and functionality to their living space.

Common Questions about Floating Shelves

Floating shelves are a popular choice for homeowners looking to maximize storage space and add a touch of style to their living space. However, there are many common questions that people have about these shelves before purchasing them. Below are some of the most frequently asked questions, along with the answers you need to know:

How much weight can a floating shelf hold?

The weight capacity of a floating shelf can vary depending on the brand, design, and materials used. However, on average, most Fitnfloat's floating shelves can hold between 20-60 pounds of weight. It's important to read the weight capacity specifications for any shelf you're considering, and to make sure the weight of the items you plan to display does not exceed the limit.

Are floating shelves still in style?

Yes, Fitnfloat's floating shelves remain a popular and trendy addition to any home decor. From classic white floating shelves to rustic wooden shelves, there are many designs and materials to choose from that can match your personal style and preferences.

Can I install floating shelves without drilling?

While drilling is the most secure and reliable way to install floating shelves, there are some alternatives that don't require drilling. For example, adhesive strips or hooks can be used to mount lightweight shelves, while brackets or brackets with anchors can be used for heavier shelves.

Do floating shelves make a room look smaller?

Floating shelves can actually have the opposite effect and make a room appear larger by creating the illusion of more space. This is especially true for lighter colored shelves, which can reflect light and create a brighter atmosphere.

What is the rule of thumb for floating shelves?

As a rule of thumb, Fitnfloat's floating shelves should be installed at a height that is comfortable for the user to access the items displayed on them. In general, the recommended height for floating shelves is between 6-12 inches above a piece of furniture or around eye level for a standing person.

By addressing these common questions, we hope to have provided you with the information you need to make an informed decision about buying and installing Fitnfloat's floating shelves in your home.

Types and Styles of Floating Shelves

When it comes to floating shelves, there are many different types and styles to choose from. Here are some of the most popular:

Wall-Mounted Shelves: These are the most common type of floating shelves and can be found in a wide range of sizes, colors, and materials. They are great for displaying books, plants, and decorative items, and can be arranged in a variety of configurations to suit your needs.

Picture Ledges: These are perfect for displaying artwork, photos, and other small items. They are usually shallow and can be arranged in a gallery-style display.

Kitchen Shelves: These are specifically designed for use in kitchens and can be used to store cookware, dishes, and other kitchen essentials. They can be made from wood or metal and can be installed in a variety of configurations.

www.fitnfloat.com.au