#BUT I FIND MYSELF PREFERRING THE DEATH STARE

[jademint2581]

his eyes trigger my fight or flight instinct but i still have the urge to babygirlify him

...marsala wine flavoured motherfucker.

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 5. Patterned behaviour

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw

Give me the judgment of balanced minds in preference to laws every time. Codes and manuals create patterned behaviour. All patterned behaviour tends to go unquestioned, gathering destructive momentum. — Darwi Odrade

It was easy to fall to the bed afterwards, as if she belonged there. Because she did now. Feyd was still catching his breath when she curled up beside him, her knees brushing against his hip, their sweat soaking into the bedsheets. A Fremen would’ve been outraged at the sight.

“Cruel witch,” he rasped.

“What was so cruel?” she asked, trailing a finger through the inky mess on his stomach. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

He slapped her hand out of the way — but there was not so much aggression in the move as there was a certain vulnerability, like an animal slapping at his master’s hand. Feyd heaved himself upward to get out of the bed, but she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him down again.

“Where are you going?”

“To wash myself.”

“Why?” she said, her touch softening into a gentle caress across the muscles on his chest. “I like you this way…”

“Filthy woman,” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

She couldn’t help herself and smiled. Even with his frightful black teeth — which in Harkonnen culture, she had read, was supposed to be quite attractive — his boyish nature came through to show something sweet and vulnerable. What a brilliant plan it had been to give him governorship over Arrakis… After Rabban, Feyd must have appeared to the natives like a heavenly angel. She reached up and caressed his soft cheek, his hard jawline, tracing the edge of his generous lips.

“Sleep, my na-Baron,” she said, laying down beside him, holding his gaze. “You will dream of pleasant things tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” he grinned.

She knew he was making light of his nightmares, and in a way dismissing them entirely. There might come a time when they would have to address them directly — if he was serious about wanting her to serve him as his Bene Gesserit, and if she didn’t escape first — but clearly it was not tonight.

Under her soft caresses, Feyd fell asleep quite fast. She followed, slipping first into a meditation, and then into the land of dreams. And even in her sleep, the only thing she felt, and saw, and tasted, was his body.

When she woke up the next morning, she noticed she’d been moved. She was higher on the bed now, laying against the multitude of pillows, and all covered up. Feyd was sitting on the edge, getting ready.

“You were cold,” he said without even turning. His hearing was better than she thought… “And, for that matter, so was I.”

“You tucked me in?” she smiled. “How sweet of you…”

“None of that,” he said roughly, turning to level a cold stare at her. “You did a very naughty thing last night. We’re going to have to… discuss it. But not right now.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded, but deep down she was already preparing for how to turn things to her favour next. He loves pain, she told herself. That is his lever. Use it.

As he continued to get dressed, she watched him. He wasn’t very good at it — probably was used to servants helping him, and they weren’t here right now — but he knew well enough how to put his armour on. She was almost tempted to help him, but then she remembered that she was supposed to have a different purpose.

“I suppose I should get dressed as well,” she said as she slinked off the bed.

“Why is that?”

“I serve you now. I should be there with you. To advise you.”

“Advise me?” he chuckled. “What do you know of military strategy?”

More than you, she thought, but she wasn’t even sure that was completely true. It was a mystery to her, what Harkonnens taught their young.

“I know Arrakis,” she said, coming to sit beside him. They cut a striking picture, him in his black armour and her in her naked skin, both looking equally confident. “And perhaps, my lord na-Baron, you can learn more about what a Bene Gesserit can do.”

“Or what she can’t do,” he muttered. But there was already a surrender in his gaze. He had decided to bring her along, now he only had to decide how to admit it. “No talking about me,” he pointed out. “To anyone.”

“Of course.”

“And no bragging about… about —”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He chuckled. “I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t believe it back then, either.”

She didn’t miss the strange glances the other servants gave as she passed by, close behind Feyd-Rautha. They had breakfast together in a lavish dining hall, one with a long, black table and lights suspended high above. She’d never seen this room before…

His brother, Rabban, wasn’t there, and neither was the Baron.

“Do you always eat alone, my lord?” she asked him, sitting somewhere in the centre of the table, a respectable number of seats away, while Feyd sat at the head.

“Depends on what I’m eating,” he answered with a grin. “Besides, I’m not alone today, am I?”

“No,” she smiled. “You are not.”

He didn’t speak for the rest of the meal. He ate, in fact, in a hurry, eyeing her critically every now and then, judging her for how slowly she was chewing. And when he finished, he got up without even considering her presence. He paused in the doorway as he heard her scrambling to get up and follow, and bowed his head — he was suddenly regretful. Another habit of eating alone was, perhaps, his lack of consideration for others. He’d completely forgotten her by the time he finished breakfast…

She joined at his side without complaint, happy to already be doing her service: teaching him healthy new habits. Feyd looked at her quietly for a moment, and then they left together.

The day was spent in a strategy meeting, which he started without giving the time to any of his generals to question why she was there. The sight of a Bene Gesserit among the Harkonnen must’ve been rare indeed — or even that of a woman who wasn’t a slave or a serving girl.

They spoke their jagged language, and in phrases that were blissfully short. It was easy enough for her to understand even without a full vocabulary.

“Push them to the edge,” said Feyd as he stood above the map, fiddling with a neat little blade in his hands, a shiny thing of white silver. “The worms will finish what the storms do not.”

“Yes, sir, na-Baron.”

“Search scouting parties up ahead before you send in more harvesters. And I want a map of the richest spice fields by tomorrow morning.”

“Er, yes, yes sir.”

She eyed all the proceedings in silence, and in the mist of fear and anxiety, the other men completely forgot her. Their minds were so easy to read, their emotions so clear on their faces, on their hands, in the way they held themselves… And in their centre, Feyd, speaking to them as if they were Ixian automatons without any thought or feeling.

She waited for the meeting to be over before she finally joined his side and spoke.

“That was productive.”

“Was it?” he sighed, bracing his arms against the table. The door closed with finality behind his frightened generals. “I didn’t know you spoke our language,” he noted with a cocked brow.

“I am learning,” she smiled.

“Rabban left me a complete mess. It will take months to undo it.”

“Years. And you don’t have as much time as you think.”

“Really? Well, speak plainly, now.”

She turned, leaning lightly against the table so that she could better look at him. He was less sure of himself now than he had been around his men…

“If you push the Fremen too hard, they could go south. It is out of reach for us, out of control.”

“Nothing survives out there.”

“How do you know, if nobody’s ever been there but Fremen?”

He bit his lip and frowned, but didn’t disagree. “And you would do, what?”

“Relax the attacks. Give them a false sense of security. Bait them into —”

“Into exposing themselves…”

“Exactly.”

“But these savages won’t do that. They know we’ve got superior firepower. Their strength lies in their secret tactics.”

She shrugged. “You have a point…”

“But if… if we had to approach this like a fight between a stronger man and a weaker man…” he said, thinking out loud as he began to pace.

She looked at him and said nothing, letting the ideas germinate in his head.

“It’s late, it’s hot,” he sighed. “I’ll think about it more tomorrow.”

“Yes, my lord na-Baron. You still haven’t even had lunch.”

“I’ll have dinner. We’ll have dinner.”

“Another thing though… That map you requested.”

“What about it?”

“The spice fields on Arrakis are highly changeable and depend on many variables. It can take days for someone to calculate their frequency. Less if you had a Mentat. Or a thinking machine…”

Feyd chuckled. “Worried? Since when do you care about the fate of my men?”

“I don’t care about his fate. I care about whether he provides you with false information just to save his neck.”

“Hm… I’ll see what he brings me tomorrow,” he smirked, looking pointedly at her, “and maybe have you look at it.”

She paused, already unhappy with the charge she was given. Mathematical calculations were not her strong suit, but she understood she needed to submit to Feyd’s testing if she expected to be kept around.

“Yes, my lord,” she said with a light bow.

“Now, then. Let’s eat.”

She could already tell that his habits were changing. He watched her more closely and was clearly thinking about her, considering her from every angle. Although Feyd-Rautha made no effort to hide what he was feeling, she found it hard to pinpoint just what was going through his head that evening.

She met his gaze with more confidence than she felt but allowed him to watch her openly too, letting him enjoy the moments of peace between them. He seemed to only like speaking to her when the servants left the room.

“You like to watch, don’t you?” he asked, leaning back against his tall, elegant seat.

“I believe you’ve been doing the watching, my na-Baron,” she smirked.

“No, no, you know what I mean… I mean throughout the day. Us. All of us. You’re learning our language now? You’re studying our strategies. You think, you don’t speak…” he listed, his cold eyes set on her as their meals waited untouched before them. “Until my generals have gone…”

“Of course. I would not have them think your orders can be questioned.”

“Even though you question them.”

“That’s only for you to know,” she smiled.

Feyd smiled back. He suspected her of many things — both past and future betrayals — but in that moment, he appreciated her.

“Are you trying to learn more about me, my na-Baron?”

“Why not? You’re learning about us.”

“I think you’ll find me less inscrutable. If you wish to know something, simply ask.”

Feyd nodded and turned his attention to his plate at last. He cut into the meat, he moved the garnishings around, but before he could bring it to his lips he set the fork down loudly and looked up at her again.

“Why did you do that to me last night?” he quickly asked.

“Because you liked it.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re not as good at it as you think. How did you know I would like it?”

She set her knife and fork down too, and let her wrists rest upon the table. He was pulling her into something she wasn’t sure she wanted to confess, and she knew she couldn’t get him to forget it without using those Bene Gesserit tricks he hated so much. Perhaps there was a way to still turn this around in her favour…

“I merely recognised what I knew so well,” she answered quietly, her voice floating through the penumbra toward him.

“And where did you recognise it from?”

“From myself.”

Feyd leaned back again, his lips pulled into a grin. There was doubt in his eyes, but the rest of him seemed so intrigued, so glad about this new development, that she could almost guess what he was going to say next.

He’ll want to see it, she thought. He’ll want to see me like that. Exposed. Vulnerable before him.

“Show me,” he said, confirming everything.

[cecilysobsessions]

STRIP THAT DOWN (m.) | gojo

↬ word count: 7k

↬ fem!reader, stripper!gojo, sub!gojo, inspiration comes from magic mike

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ summary: as the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, you cater to the women that prefer the pretty and feminine younger boys to give them lap dances. oddly enough, your most popular and most requested dancer is gojo satoru. he’s too muscular, too handsome, and entirely too annoying. and, of course, he doesn’t seem to be aware you find him irritating. 

↬ warnings: gojo wearing lingerie, gojo begging, gojo got a finger fetish, gojo getting spanked, anal (m. receiving but unfortunately no pegging 😔), gojo bent over a desk, typos but pretend you don’t see them

↬ a/n: this is for everyone that love men who whimper (myself) also i just turned 21! 🎉

m.list

•••

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

As the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, it wasn’t exactly as fun as some might think. 

You were constantly stuck helping your dancers adjust their g-strings between sweaty ass cheeks, constantly sewing back up ripped underwear, constantly throwing out people who got a little too touchy, and more gross things you’d rather not think about. 

After being in the business yourself for several years, your boss had mentioned that you had an eye for running things, so you thought you’d give it a try yourself. You just didn’t think you’d end up running an all-male strip club. 

You’re not sure how it happened—and you’d rather not focus on that right now because one of your dancers is waving a bra in your face, his voice frantic and panicked.

“BOSS! Hello?! I need help!” he aggressively waves the garment in front of your eyes.

“Why are you going to wear a bra for tonight’s show?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Suguru doesn’t even have enough chest to fit in that size!” you heard a voice from across the room. You were currently helping your dancers with a show tonight, stressed because your name was being called in a different direction every five seconds.

It was Gojo.

The brattiest, most entitled, self-centered, good for nothing employee of yours. Good God, every time he spoke you grew irritated, even if he wasn’t talking to you. Although he annoyed you to death with his overly talkative and cocky personality, he was the best dancer here. 

Even though you catered to older women who preferred younger more feminine men, Gojo brought in the most money, brought more customers back, helped scout more dancers, and helped train the most. You hated to admit it, but he really was your most valuable employee. 

“Don't body shame Suguru,” you half-heartedly scolded Gojo, watching him as you helped Geto. 

Gojo was yanking up a pair of skinny jeans past his long legs, struggling to fit into them because his ass wasn’t exactly the flattest. Although skinny jeans might not be trendy right now, the long length and the plump curve of his ass suited it well. Somehow sensing your staring, Gojo turns to you, the corners of his mouth turning up into a sly smirk.

“What’re ya starin’ at?” he asks you with a seductive smile.

You gag. “Get pants that fit better next time.” 

“Oh? Maybe I should just wear no pants then.” he teases and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

After helping the rest of your dancers with their various costumes, you gathered them for a quick before-shift pep talk.

“Alright boys, before we start tonight I want to let you know that one of our regulars, Mina, will be here tonight. Does anybody want to explain who she is to the newbies?”

“She’s an old rich lady who’s picky and has a shit ton of annoying ass requests that’ll make you want to rip your hair out and quit.” Gojo quickly chimes in. 

Being the favorite of the club had its downsides. For private dances, Mina almost always exclusively chose Gojo. Although she tips him well, he always complains about her to you afterwards. Without fail. Every single time.

“And what kind of requests?” you ask Gojo so that he will explain to the newer boys.

“She’ll ask to touch a lot of things if you do a private dance for her. It’s up to you on what you’re comfortable with, but when we’re out on the floor, no one’s allowed to touch anything.” he explains.

Although Gojo himself could be annoying and a burden to deal with, he is good at what he does. Without him, your club would have shut down a long time ago.

“Alright, thank you, Gojo. Let’s have fun tonight, shake some ass and make some money!” you declare and your employees cheer with their fists up. 

When you go to open the doors, the line outside begins to pile in. Nodding to your bouncer in acknowledgement, you watch the club goers by the entrance as you keep an eye out for your regulars or anyone who seems new. As you greet the women walking in, you feel someone bump shoulders with yours. Looking to your side, you look up to see Gojo standing by you in a silk robe and cowboy hat.

“Hey, boss.”

“Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

“I am ready. I got a cowboy bit tonight. The ladies will love it.” he tips his hat at you, playfully winking.

“I’m sure they will.” you spot Mina walk in, watching her take her usual seat towards the front of the stage.

“Will you watch me tonight?”

“No. I’ve got work to do in my office.”

You see Gojo look down and pout in the side of your eye. He’s disappointed. Well, he can stay disappointed. It’s not like this is the only time you can see him dance. 

“But Mina is here. I’d feel more comfortable knowing you’re on the floor if she asks me for a dance. I don’t want her trying anything.”

“She won’t.”

“Still. Please?” Gojo’s eyes have a natural sparkle in them it’s hard to say no. The way he so effortlessly holds eye contact with you and begs you through his eyes pisses you off.

“We’ll see.”

••• 

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was any of your dancers feeling uncomfortable in the presence of any of your customers. Pushing aside all the paperwork that was piled up, you made your way to the floor when it was Gojo’s time slot.

You snaked your way through the back of the crowd, your eyes and ears struggling to adjust to the moving colorful lights and the wild screams and cheers from the women in the audience. You lean against a wall, watching Gojo as he gracefully circles a chair on the stage, sitting on it to hump the air aggressively as he rocks his hips to the slow slutty song he’s chosen for tonight. He seems visibly tense, but you don’t know why. When you look closely, you realize his eyes are searching for someone, perhaps Mina. You watch him feel himself up, hands moving to unbutton his shirt before he rips it off and throws it into the crowd of women. 

His hands teasingly run over his nipples, squeezing his pecs as he teases his audience more by unbuckling his belt. He looks down at his belt before he takes it off, tossing that item into the audience too. His eyes look back up, continuing to look for someone.

Gojo makes eye contact with you. 

Then, a smile of relief.

From then on to the end of the dance, you watch him visibly relax and loosen up a bit more. He’s feeling himself and having more fun, and you’re glad that you came out to watch him like he asked you to.

•••

You’re sitting at the bar massaging your temples with your fingers, a lousy attempt to soothe your worsening headache. You swear under your breath, regretting that you didn’t take painkillers the moment you began to feel your headache. Thankfully, the lights were dimmed and all your dancers had gone home so it was just you as you finished up your final paperwork for the night. You felt absolutely miserable doing it, though. Tonight was just one of those nights.

“Rough night?” you heard the entrance door being unlocked as a shadowed figure stepped in. Walking into the dimmed light, you watched Gojo approach you, a canned drink in his hand.

“Thirsty?” he offers, opening the soda can and handing it to you as he sits next to you, his knee brushing against your leg. 

“I don’t even like soda,” your eyes linger on his leg that has brushed up against yours, ignoring the fact that he feels warm against you.

“Yeah, well, that’s the first thing I saw at the convenience store.” he chuckles obnoxiously, and you can’t help but continue to stare at his knee that is still brushed up against your leg. 

“I thought you left,” you decide to ignore the warmth you feel from his long legs as you focus on doing your paperwork. You just want to go home. “I saw you leave.”

“I know you want to go home,” he answers, propping his chin on his hand and watching you write something down. “So I came back to help. You seemed a little off tonight.”

“I was not.”

“Was it because I came in late? Were you wondering why I was late when I’m never late?”

“You were late?!” you didn’t even notice.

“You didn’t even notice,” Gojo pouts, one of his hands coming down to rest on the surface, near the paperwork you’re doing. You can’t help but stare at his long fingers, your eyes tracing the prominent veins on his hand. 

When you look up, his eyes are staring into yours through his sunglasses that sit crookedly on his nose. You don’t know if he was always sitting so close, but right now his face was leaning into yours, holding eye contact with you as his eyes gazed into yours. He blinks slowly, watching you for any sort of reaction to his stupid deep gaze.

“If you come in late again you’re fired.” you spit out in a panic and look back down to your paperwork. His stupid blue eyes were distracting you and you didn’t want him to know just how much it was affecting you. What was wrong with you?

He lights up, his smile reaching his eyes. He seems satisfied now that you’ve said something. “Yes, ma’am. Tell me what you need help with.”

“Just lock everything up.”

“That’s it?”

“And fix your glasses.”

“The crookedness adds to my sexiness. Anything else?”

“I don’t trust you to do anything else.”

“What about taking you home? Do you trust me doing that?” he playfully asks. 

“I can get home just fine.”

“It’s not safe. And besides, can’t I spend time with my favorite person?” he teases, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You really won’t leave me alone, huh?”

“I really don’t want to.”

“Gojo,” you begin. You didn’t have the time or energy to banter with him.

“Call me by my first name.” he asks, a slight pout on his pretty lips.

“That’s weird.”

“But you call Suguru by his first name. Why not me?”

You’re surprised he noticed a small detail like that. “No. And Gojo?” you say as you stand, wondering if he’ll pout about it again.

“Yes?” he’s standing up now, his eyes peering down into yours as he looks at you from up above. He’s more than a full head taller than you, and the fact that he’s staring down at you with an air of arrogance and his stupid smirk makes you want to put him in his place.

There is a moment of tension that rises. It hangs thick in the air and feels dependent on you. On what you will do. On what you will say. You’re not sure what makes it too weird compared to the other late nights you spent with Gojo closing. 

Maybe it’s the dimmed lights or the late hours, but Gojo was looking at you with bedroom eyes so you forced yourself to look towards the door behind him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you start packing up your stuff. Now that Gojo is bothering you, you decide that you’ll just finish everything at home.

“Wait,” his hand lands on the top of yours, his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles to stop you from gathering your things.

“I wanted to thank you for tonight. For watching me. For… for being there for me.” his voice fades, and you know it’s because he's feeling shy and embarrassed. He’s docile and quiet, something he often does when he gets vulnerable with you. You find it quite adorable.

“You’re welcome.” you go to ruffle his hair, but as you’re about to pull your hand away, he catches it one more, moving it so that you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, sculpted.

You watch him stare at you in awe. If anybody walked in at this moment, they would think it’s loving and intimate. 

“I really thought you wouldn’t come out.” he confesses in a whisper, nuzzling against your palm as his eyes close in bliss. 

“Clearly you thought wrong.” you don’t make a move to pull away, and neither does he.

When his eyes open, they are droopy. Gojo smiles softly, guiding your knuckles to his mouth as he presses a gentle kiss to them. When you give him a small smile, he kisses your hand again, this time it’s your ring finger. He kisses the back of your hand, then turns your arm so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. And finally, his soft lips make their way to caress your palm as he kisses your hand one last time.

You’re not surprised Gojo is being physically affectionate with you. After all, he’s physically affectionate with almost everyone at the club, so it’s not weird to see him kissing people’s cheeks and giving bear hugs to every person he sees. But what he’s doing right now… it’s oddly intimate. Something you thought he’d never do. Especially since he isn’t saying anything playful or flirty. He’s completely serious right now, eyes unwavering as he watches for your reaction.

“Clearly I did.” He may not be kissing your hand anymore, but he’s holding it in his and studying it; watching it as if it’s fascinating. His thumb smooths over your skin, rubbing it gently with love. You feel your heartbeat speed up all of a sudden, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. 

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

It was 10am. And Gojo was staring down at you, shades sitting on top of his nose, his eyes peeking out from underneath. You had given Gojo a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies since he lives a little far from the club and you’re closer. He usually let you know in advance if he was coming over to crash at your place, and the times he did it was because it was too late and he was too tired to go to his own place. But today he decided not to and he knows you don’t get up until after noon so why the hell was he here now and what did he want?

“Get out.” you spat out, crankiness lacing your voice as you turned your body to the other side of the bed and covered your face with the blanket.

“It’s an emergency.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“But it’s a fashion emergencyyy,” he pleads, gently shaking your shoulder. “I forgot to buy lingerie for tonight’s show.”

Tonight was a Saturday night, which meant it was going to be busy. Lots of customers which meant lots of tips. On nights like these, Gojo always decided to dance to something more erotic, sexier than his usual dances. He had mentioned a couple nights ago that he wanted to try out lingerie for the weekend.

“Take Suguru. Leave me alone.” you shooed him away from under the covers.

“But you live closer to the mall. Pleaaaaase? I’ll buy you breakfast and your morning coffee.” he asked.

Your head peaked from beneath the blanket and you eyed his outfit. A black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked away quickly, trying to ignore how well the shirt fit snug around his biceps and chest area, and how low his sweatpants hung on his hips you caught a glimpse of his v-line.

“Fine. But you come in early to help set up. Since you were late the other day.”

You tried to ignore the looks people were giving you at the mall, but you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s stares lingered on Gojo, or how you saw women old enough to be your grandma giving googly eyes at Gojo everytime the two of you walked by. You knew he was attractive, so why did you feel a pang of jealousy anytime anyone stared at him in awe? 

Gojo just had to wear the tightest and smallest clothes he could find. The way his pecs were so clearly defined from his stupid compression shirt and how tightly snug it was and how if you looked closely enough and for long enough, you’d notice the slight bump of his nipples through the thin fabric. 

Not to mention his sweats. Fitted, but still loose. Fitted as in you could make out the shape of the curves of his ass as he walked, but loose around his hips that his sweatpants were barely hanging by a thread. It was distracting. Eyeing him again as he sifted through lingerie, you try to ignore the slight bulge through his pants. 

“—don’t you think?” Gojo asks, turning to you and holding up the thinnest, sluttiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. It was black and thin and lacy and delicate looking. Gojo would definitely rip it while dancing.

“Too thin,” you shook your head, pretending to ignore whatever he said because you were too busy checking him out.

Turns out he noticed you staring. “You don’t even know what I said.” he tilts his head to look at you. Eyeing you up and down.

“I know what you said. I’m just ignoring you.” you brushed him off, suddenly self conscious and walking to another section of the store and searching through the different sets of lingerie.

“You were too busy looking at my tits to hear anything I said.” Gojo follows you, smirking down at you with his usual stupid arrogance that pisses you off. 

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Jealous because they’re bigger than yours?” his eyes slightly moved down to your chest, before gazing back up into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop changing the subject. Here,” you picked up a bra and panty set that seemed more suitable for stripping. “You won’t rip this accidentally.” It was red and thicker and less lacy than the other set he picked up, but this one was definitely sexier and bolder. 

“I’ll try it on.”

You assumed people thought you and Gojo were shopping for you because unless you’re being dramatic, you definitely felt stares of jealousy from random people who walked by. And when Gojo asked an associate to try on his clothes—hangers of solely lingerie, you ignored the stares again. You were sitting outside the dressing room when you felt your phone ringing and saw that it was Gojo.

“Come in and help me.” he immediately said when you picked up.

“What? Why?”

“It’s—it’s a little stuck. I can't take it off. Shit’s way too tight.” he whispers through the phone.

“Why did you put it on in the first place if it was too small?��� you lectured.

“I thought I could take it off! I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Help me.” you could hear the desperation and panic in his voice through the phone.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone and walking up to the employee by the dressing rooms. 

“My friend needs help taking off their clothes. Mind if I go in?” she brushed you off with a wave and you walked into the dressing room area, trying to look near the floor to get a peek at which room Gojo was in.

“Gojo?” you whispered, hoping the other customers wouldn’t hear. 

You instantly saw his hand come from beneath the dressing door, waving you towards him. When he opened the door and let you in, your eyes took in the sight in front of him. 

He was right. The lingerie was way too tight around his body. The bra squished his chest together too tightly you saw a cleavage forming and it was for sure better than yours. Looking down at the panties had you staring at him in silence. It was too small you could see his dick slightly sticking out, his tip a soft pink.

“Stop staring and help me!” he stood there and whisper-yelled at you. His hands automatically covered his crotch and your eyes moved back up to his face. His face was flushed, almost looking like the afterglow after sex. His cheeks were a pretty pink and his eyes were looking everywhere but you. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry as he pleaded for your help.

“This is so embarrassing, please do something.”

You nodded, walking over to him and turning him around so his back was towards you and he was facing the mirror. You were going to start by trying to undo the bra clasp, but when you looked up, you saw Gojo watching you in the mirror. Ignoring him, you focused on the bra. Tugging at it, you finally got it open after fiddling with it and it snapped open immediately. Eyeing the marks it left on his back, your fingers lightly trace them in an attempt to soothe it.

“Turn around. Lemme see your front.” you demand, and he automatically turns to face you, his eyes watching your every move. 

Your fingers move slightly over the red irritated skin on his chest. Almost like you were under some spell, you traced the red lines, gently rubbing them to soothe it. Gojo’s chest heaves and he lets out a breath he unknowingly was holding. When you look up, his cheeks are red and his lips are parted and he’s looking at you like he’s begging you to kiss him. You didn’t realize you were standing too close to him in this cramped dressing room.

“Gojo?”

“Yes?” His voice is breathy and light and barely a whisper. You could feel your heartbeat beating in your ears and the silence is way too loud and the only thing you can hear are the other customers outside changing.

You lay your hand flat down on his chest above his heart, wanting to see if he was feeling just as nervous as you. And he was. His heartbeat was a panicked rush and he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to make a move.

“Am I making you nervous?” you ask, leaning up towards him, your lips just inches from his.

“Yes.” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat, and he looks at you, gaze focused on you and you only.

“Is that all?” you ask, wanting more from him. You could tell he was turned on; you didn’t need to look down at his crotch to confirm it. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was abnormal and he was looking at you like he was begging you to fuck him with his eyes.

“You make me more than just nervous.” he admits. 

“Oh?” you waited, a silent beat hanging in the air.

“You make me hard too.” he confirmed, his voice a mere whisper. 

Just as you were about to lean into him to kiss him, you heard a loud knock at the changing room door. 

“Hey! We don’t allow more than one person in each stall!” the employee on the other side nagged.

“Oh, I’m just helping my friend take off their clothes!” you quickly step away from Gojo, turning around. 

“You can take off the underwear by yourself, right? Hurry up!”

•••

Gojo is avoiding you. 

Normally you’d be happy, relaxed, welcoming to that sort of behavior. But today it was weird. Ever since yesterday, he has been avoiding you like the plague. Even going so far as ignoring you completely when he walked in on time today and you tried to greet him. 

Gojo almost never avoids; actually it’s always the opposite. When he’s not busy, he’s following you around like a puppy and carrying out any order you bark at him. Cleaning the tables, sweeping the floor, whatever it was, he was happy to do it for you. Only today he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Hasn’t even glanced at you. 

So why did it bother you so much?

As you help set up the bar with Geto, your eyes follow Gojo’s movements as he moves across the floor, setting up the tables and chairs for tonight’s opening.

“Your eyes are drilling holes into him. Something happened between the two of you?” Geto asks by your side as you wipe a wine glass clean.

“He’s ignoring me.”

“That’s new. What’d he do?”

You think back to the last couple days. His lips on your hands. His soft, whispered tone as he stared into your eyes with those stupid bright blue ocean eyes of his. Then in the dressing room, how he became so obviously aroused by you just touching him slightly. How there was so much tension you would have fucked him right then and there if you weren’t interrupted.

“Who knows,” you shrugged it off, deciding to act like it wasn’t a big deal that Gojo was ignoring you. It totally wasn’t. Not at all. It wasn’t like you’ve been staring at him the moment he came in wondering why he won’t talk to you or anything like that. Not at all.

You’re not sure what happened tonight, but Mina stopped by to speak with you, concerned for Gojo.

“He wasn’t like his usual self tonight,” she told you. “It’s like his head was totally somewhere else. I didn’t even ask to touch his beautifully sculpted big rock hard cock like I usually do.”

“You didn’t need to tell me the last part, Mina.” you scrunch your nose in disgust at her words.

“I’m saying I’m worried. You should check up on the boy. Maybe you’re overworking him, eh?” she told you with a shake of her finger as she exited through the doors as the last customer.

You didn’t watch Gojo tonight and decided to stay in your office, so you wondered if that had anything to do with him not doing his best tonight. Wanting to find out, you started looking for Gojo throughout the establishment. The break room, the bathroom, the changing room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just when you walk back to your office to call him, you open the door to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed across his chest.

“Who said you could come into my office?” you close the door, ignoring the fact that he’s leaning on your desk and wearing his stupid compression shirt and gray sweatpants. 

He ignores you, instead, choosing to follow you behind your desk and stare at you some more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ignore me.”

“What? I’m ignoring you? Do you hear yourself? I tried to say hi to you when you walked in, and you pretended to not know I was there. You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.” you told him.

“You ignored me first.” he sighs in frustration, looking away with a pout on his pretty lips.

“Gojo, what’re you talking about?”

“Yesterday! In the dressing room. You almost kissed me. You know I wanted to kiss you too. Then after that, you just pretended like nothing happened. And I hate that you don’t call me Satoru.” he almost rolls his eyes, whining and complaining like a child.

Oh. So that’s what he was hurt about. He wasn’t wrong; you did kind of just brush off whatever happened in the dressing room and pretended like nothing happened. But that’s because you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings and you assumed he didn’t want you like that. 

You’re fucking stupid.

“I’m sorry,” you stand up quickly, moving so that you’re standing in front of him. His legs part slightly, letting you stand in his personal space as he manspreads all over your desk. 

“I just assumed you didn’t think much of it, and I didn’t want to look stupid if I made a move or said anything about it.” you confessed, watching him for his reaction.

“You do look stupid,” he jests, eyes lighting back up, empty of his worries and concerns. “I’ll forgive you if you call me Satoru. No more Gojo this, Gojo that. I want you to call me Satoru.”

You throw him a thankful smile. “Mina was worried about you. She told me today before she left. Said you weren’t doing your best.”

“Mina can go kick the bucket.” 

You gasp and hit him jokingly. “Hey! She practically pays your rent!”

He wrinkles his nose in annoyance. “I got a bigger size for the lingerie. It got me my best tips ever.”

“Even though you were out of it tonight?”

“Yeah…” he says quietly, taking a moment to think to himself. “But I think I ripped it.”

“You should just buy a new one then. Don’t sew it up.”

“Hmm. I think you can sew it. At least take a look at it.” 

When you reluctantly agree, Gojo spreads his legs a little further, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you further into him. Your eyes automatically move down to his crotch as he presses you against it, the outline of his hardened dick against your legs. He swiftly takes off his shirt, the red bra sitting against his chest. 

“You’re staring.” he observes aloud.

“No, I’m not.” you reply, your eyes trained on his hardened nipples that are practically peeking out through the lacy thin bra.

When you finally manage to tear your eyes away from his body and actually inspect the bra, you see that it’s actually in perfect condition and not ripped at all.

Then you realize what Gojo is doing. 

“You idiot! You didn’t rip your stupid bra! You just wanted an excuse to take off your clothes.” you finally look up at his eyes with a glare. His stupid ocean eyes stare down at you arrogantly, a playful smirk painted on his pretty face as he sticks his tongue out at you.

“You’re totally right. I lied to you. How mean of me to lie directly to your face, huh?” he tells you sarcastically.

You raise an eyebrow at his sarcasm. Where was he going with this?

“I suppose I might need to be punished for that.” he says, his voice bored and waiting.

You take a moment to think about what he’s asking from you. It was obvious enough he wanted you the way you wanted him; his hardened cock was throbbing against your leg and his hips began to slightly move against your body, a subtle desperation for any sort of friction.

But what exactly did he want? Did he want you to suck him off, or bend you over the desk and fuck you? Gojo didn’t seem like the type to want to do that though; from his interactions with you, he was definitely one for harsh punishments that caused pain. Masochistic little bitch.

While you’re busy thinking, your eyes stay on his lips, perfectly soft and begging to be kissed. So you lean in, pressing a warm and pleasant kiss to his lips. Gojo almost immediately gives into your warmth, leaning in closer to you, his hands wrapping around your waist. He exhales a shaky breath against your cheek, kissing you back gently. When you pull back and look at him, he raises an eyebrow.

“That didn’t feel like a punishment.”

“What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” you ask, because you weren’t about to waste your time guessing.

“Oh, I don’t know… perhaps a couple of spanks might suffice. And maybe while I’m bent over your desk.” he wonders aloud to himself.

You laugh out loud. He’s definitely thought this scenario through. Without replying verbally, you grab Gojo by the front of his bra, aggressively yanking him towards you as you greet him with a kiss. This time it’s not as soft or gentle as the first one. You’re more aggressive this time, biting down on his bottom lip and licking the inside of his mouth. He moans into your mouth, his legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. His moans are dripping with desire, so desperate for more as he kisses you harder, overly excited and clumsy. 

“Pants off. Now.” you breathe into the kiss and pull away for a second. 

But Gojo is still kissing you. Your cheek, the side of your mouth; any part of your skin he can reach with his mouth. His hands are shakily tugging at his jeans, impatiently trying to yank them down. His legs leave your waist and you yank him off the desk, roughly turning him around and bending him over your desk. Pushing your things aside, you finish stripping him of his pants and they pool at his ankles.

You look down at him, taking the sight of him in. The back of his neck is flushed red, one of his bra straps is falling down his shoulder, and his curved ass cheeks are rubbing against your legs, hungry for some sort of stimulation. He’s wearing a thong, the string between his ass cheeks thin and so easy to rip off. 

Your hand caresses his ass, soothing his skin before you slap him lightly, curious as to how much he can take.

“Nghh,” he whimpers lowly. “Hit me harder.” he demands, arching his back and sticking his ass further up the air for you.

Cautiously, you smack his ass harder than the first time, and you watch his pale skin turn a bright red. 

“More.”

You give in to Gojo’s demands once more, leaning over his back and smacking his ass. You lean close to his face as he lets out a high pitched whine. 

“Quit telling me what to do, Satoru.” you harshly whisper in his ear, and he moans in return, excited to hear you call him by his first name for the first time. He rubs his ass against you again, whines of pleasure escaping his lips.

“Hnghh, spank me harder, please.” he asks you.

“You could beg a little more if you’re that needy.” you tell him with a slap to his ass, listening to the sweet sounds of his whines.

“Nghh, p-please… please…” 

“Please what? What would you like me to do to you, Satoru?” you emphasize his name, enjoying his whimper of pleasure every time his name escapes your lips.

“I want more… more than your hands on my ass.” he’s quiet, almost shy and too embarrassed to admit what he really desires.

“What would that be, hm?” your hands place on his waist, your fingers rubbing in circles on his soft skin as you whisper into his ear. “Is it just more spanking you want? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, God, y-yes please. Please, please fuck me. I’m so hard and horny, please let me come.” he begs you, his voice high and whiny and desperate.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” your fingers make their way between his ass, ghosting over his hole as you kiss the back of his neck, sucking hard on his skin to mark him. 

“Hnghh,” he whimpers, unable to reply.

“Answer me.” you demand, smacking his ass once more.

“F-fuck, ahh… your fingers. I-I want them in my ass. Stretch me out and fuck me until I cum, please.” Gojo finally voices, a breath of relief leaving his chest. “There’s lube in your left drawer.” he tells you, out of breath and impatiently waiting.

“Did you put that there without telling me?” you ask, taking it out from your desk. 

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for this exact moment for months.”

“What a slut you are,” you laugh, yanking down his panties and pouring the cold liquid between his ass. He moans as you lean over him again, your finger rubbing at his entrance. “How long have you been wanting me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, since I started working for you.” 

You didn’t realize Gojo had a thing for you for that long. He’s one of the OG employees that have been with you since you opened the club a couple years back. You thought it was odd he never dated much, but it turns out it was because he was too busy pining over you to consider anyone else.

While you’re distracted thinking about how long Gojo has wanted you, his voice draws your attention back to his body.

“C-Can you touch my… me, please.” he asks shyly.

“Where?”

“My cock, please.”

You smile, glad he was clearly asking for what he wanted from you. You reach down to grab his dick, stroking it firmly as your other hand works on his ass. His tip is already wet with pre-cum, and his hips are thrusting in your hand as he moans with every stroke from you.

“You’re dripping wet,” you tell him. “Ready to cum already?”

“Haaaah, I want to cum from your fingers. I bet they’re gonna feel so good inside me.” he says. Then, “you can put one finger in. I’m ready.”

You happily oblige, slowly and steadily entering his hole with one finger, and he immediately tightens around you. Your lips stay on his neck, peppering him with small kisses to aid him through the process.

“Good job, Satoru. You’re taking it so well.”

“Haaah, I love it when you call me by my name.” he tightens around you after he hears you using his name, his hardened cock throbbing in your hand as you loosen him up. 

You slowly work him open, kissing and sucking and licking his skin as he shudders and moans beneath you. But your walls are thin and Gojo is too loud. His moans are growing louder the more you fuck him with your fingers, and you’re getting worried someone might somehow hear even though it’s after hours. 

“You’re too loud.” you tell him, roughly shoving your fingers into him as a small punishment. 

You should’ve known he was going to enjoy it.

“Unghh,” he whimpers, louder than his other moans. His back arches once more, shoving his ass into your fingers and clenching around you, desperate for more. “C-can’t help it. Feels too good.” he moans out. 

Your other hand leaves his front, covering his mouth with your palm. He moans as you continue fucking him, your office dead silent besides his moaning and the sound of your fingers fucking him. You feel his tongue against your hand, licking his leftover pre-cum off your hand. 

“Filthy slut,” you tell him, and he tightens around you in response, sticking his tongue out so you can shove your fingers in his throat. 

His mouth is warm and his tongue wraps around your digits, taking them into his mouth and sucking. His eyebrows draw together and he closes his eyes in pleasure, trembling with pleasure. He’s practically fucking himself on your fingers, hips moving on their own as he chases his high. You finger him roughly, leaning down to leave hickeys on his neck as he continues to thrust into you and suck and moan on your fingers. He practically screams in pleasure when you take him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spurts on your floor. He breathes heavily against you as you rub his ass, your other hand leaving his mouth. 

“Good?” you ask after a couple minutes of letting him catch his breath.

“Call me by my first name.”

“Satoru?” you ask and he stands back up and turns around to look at you.

You laugh at the sight of him: pants pooled at his ankles, hair tousled and sticking to his forehead with sweat, and cheeks red, and his bra barely hanging on.

“Why are you laughing at me,” he pouts, pulling his sweats back up in embarrassment. 

“I didn’t know you liked being fucked like that.” you point out, wiping your hands. 

“Well, I am a filthy slut.” he winks, his hands coming up to your shoulders and guiding you to sit in your office chair. “My turn.”

“Clean your jizz up first.” you nod towards the spot on the floor where he finished. 

His cheeks flush. “After I eat you out.”

•••

a/n: yall i was too lazy to write the second smut scene so use your imagination 😂 i’m too excited to write my enemies to lovers zuko story so stay tuned! (btw i totally named this fic after that one song by liam payne lmao)

m.list

[unhappy-last-resort]

Yandere Scar drabble (GN Reader)

Warnings: Yandere, Scar has a dick, implied nsfw/non-con, may be ooc, not proofread

You should've been wiser before traveling alone, you should've paid more attention to the rumors of Fractsidus activity in the area before you decided to set out on your venture. Then you wouldn't be in this position now, pinned against the wall of a crumbling house as Scar looks like he's on the verge of an unholy epiphany.

His eyes wide, a grin that could only be described as pure glee stretched his lips, his forte occasionally flashing at uneven intervals. What's he like when he overclocks, you wondered, although you guess there wouldn't be much wondering now.

His nails felt more like claws stabbing into your skin and threaten you not to move an inch. Without warning, Scar suddenly buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as if he was smelling the air for the first time.

"You smell nice..." He breathes, a visible shudder wracking through his body as he lingers by your neck. "So nice I can't help wanting more."

Before you have the chance to process what that could mean, something muscular and wet drags over your neck and freezes you in places. It's like every function of your body pauses simply to focus on that one sensation as you're left reeling.

He does it once, then twice, then thrice until he's lapping the skin like a dog desperate for water. His breathing becomes heavy and frantic and any regard he may have had for proximity is gone as his body presses against yours, an uncomfortable feeling of hard leather and an undeniable bulge pushes against you.

"Ah, I've been so busy lately. I can't find the time for myself." His voice comes out like a low rumble, an irritated growl, perhaps. His face slowly envelopes your vision, blocking out the houses of Qichi Village cloaked in a mourning grey.

"You understand, don't you?" It was worded like a plea, but his tone felt like a command. His eyes clouded with a mix of mania and lust as he stared unwaveringly into your eyes.

You had feared death, enough so that you hadn't spoken or moved once since your encounter as your mind played 100 Ways To Die, but now you wanted so badly to struggle and you couldn't. The greatest protest you could do was turn your head and you did so, biting hard into your trembling lip as you prayed for salvation or a miracle.

"Oh come on, don't be like that. You have my absolute honesty in that I won't hurt you, as long as you just play along." You could hear the smile in his voice like he was asking you for a small favor, something usual and noninvasive.

He chuckles, seemingly amused by your lack of response. "You know..." He whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin. "The people who once lived here won't mind us making use of one of their beds."

Your head snapped to look at his face, shock and disgust caught in your throat as thick thorns blocked your airways. On the contrary, Scar seemed amused as he threw his head back in a fit of laughter, shoulders shaking and grip ironclad.

"Well, if you would prefer..." He grins and a pit settles into your stomach as a hand drags up your throat to hold your chin. "I don't mind going somewhere more private, just for the two of us." He smiles as the world around you burns away into a wall of cards.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, azzie being and asshole(obviously, he's been forced), suicidal thoughts, almost death, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I promise it gets better. Future chapters are going to get happier.(that was a note to myself so I don't get carried away again)

•○🌑○•

Y/n blinked the sleep from her eyes as male voices reached her, jerking upright when she realised she was not in her bed. Where was she?

Then, as her eyes passed over the red walls around her and the expensive furniture, everything that happened the previous day came rushing back.

Her head swung around to try and find the source of the voices that she had heard, now quieted. She found the General and the High Lord standing right by the door, now staring at her.

As she registered the fact that she probably looked like a mess, she hurried to stand, nearly faceplanting in the process. Blood climbed up her neck and cheeks as she turned to look at the High Lord who had stepped forward.

"Good morning Y/n. Did you have a peaceful sleep?" He asked, his tone gentle. Though she hadn't, she nodded. His eyes were filled with understanding, and he sighed. "May I ask you a question?" When she gave a curt nod, he continued. "Why were you sleeping here? Cassian says he showed you to Azriel's room."

"I'm not–" She began, her voice raspy, before cleared her throat. "I'm not sure I can tell you that my Lord."

"Rhysand, please." He said. "It's okay, you can tell us anything. Did he kick you out?"

Her eyes darted around nervously. Maybe this could be some kind of test? Maybe Azriel was hiding in a corner of the room, looking for a reason to hate her more if she spoke bad about him out to his brothers.

When she didn't respond, the General spoke up. "There are guest rooms here. You didn't have to sleep on the couch. It would have been uncomfortable."

The door next to the General opened abruptly, then slammed back shut, making him jump. As if the house was trying to say that it tried to get her to a better place. A tiny smile bloomed on Y/n's lips.

The house was... adorable to say the least.

"The house tried to get me to go somewhere else, but I was tired and decided to stay here." A wind that sounded a lot like a huff passed through the room, making Y/n shake her head. "I hope that's okay."

"That is completely fine." The High Lord– Rhysand, she had to chide herself internally– grinned. "I've got a feeling you and the House are getting together well?" At that, Y/n smiled. A real one.

"You could say that."

The door creaked open then, the General's mate peeking in.

"Oh, I've been searching for you." She said, staring straight at Y/n. Stepping in, she pointed to the two males. "Get out."

"Why?" The General all but pouted.

"Becuase I say so."

He grumbled, but left with the High Lord. The female–Nesta, Y/n now remembered– came closer.

"I was going out with my friends today, and I was wondering if you would like to come along."

Y/n shook her head slowly. "I don't know them, and I wouldn't want to intrude–"

"You wouldn't be intruding. Plus, I'm pretty sure I can introduce you to them. And other than that, they would love to meet you. You can become a part of our group." She said, an undertone of excitement in her voice, which made Y/n falter, wondering if she should accept the offer.

Then, she sighed and nodded. Nesta let out a squeal of happiness and linked her arms with Y/n, pulling her away and into a guest bedroom, getting ready for the meeting.

•○🌑○•

Y/n settled on a simple white gown and a braid for her hair, despite Nesta's very weird preferences. Her bag had appeared in the room as soon as they entered, increasing the love she already felt for the house.

Now they were sitting in a cafe, waiting for the others to show up. From what she knew of the two females, they had tragic pasts. One of them hadn't stepped foot out of the House of Wind for two years, and she only started a few months back.

Soon, they arrived. It wasn't anything like she expected. She thought I would be uncomfortable and awkward, but they behaved as if Y/n was their childhood friend. As the evening progressed, they talked and laughed, returned to the house and settled in one of the smaller libraries, then talked about their pasts. Them telling her about their pasts without an ounce of hesitation prompted her into speaking of her childhood too, and they were horrified to say the least.

At one point, Emerie was even ready to go and murder Y/n's father, but settled down after a few moments, still fuming. It warmed Y/n immensely that someone she had barely known for a few hours would care so much for her.

She just prayed that her husband would stop being an asshole too.

•○🌑○•

It had been two weeks of absolute hell for Y/n. Because of him.

Whenever she walked into a room he was in, he would give a huge sigh of annoyance, glare at her and walk away. Whenever she tried to speak with him, he would yell at her, just like the first night. Everytime, she had to hold back tears.

She didn't understand it, this hatred. Did he not remember that she was forced into this as well? Or did he think she went to Hewn City purposefully trying to force him into a marriage? Or did he not want to accept the fact that no one was to fault in this situation? Did he just hate Y/n?

As she turned a corner, she was met with a sight that broke whatever hope she had, and probably answered all of her questions.

Standing there was Azriel, with a female pressed between him and the wall, and, he was kissing her, passionately.

Elain. The High Lady and Nesta's sister.

Y/n stood frozen for a moment before she stepped back and away from sight. She pressed herself against a wall, her breaths coming shorter and shorter. How could he? How–

She knew she didn't own him, but it hurt her all the same. They were married for Cauldrons sake! And even though their relationship was nonexistent at best, she never would do what he was doing.

That was when she noticed a shadow right in front of her face, bobbing up and down. All blood drained from Y/n's face when the shadow darted away, back to its master. There was nothing Y/n could do except run.

So she did, as fast as she could, towards her room. As she pressed herself against the door, footsteps sounded, coming closer to her room. Panic clawed at Y/n, her heart clenching when the person knocked.

She didn't answer, trying to quiet her breaths. But then a voice called her name, and she started to calm down.

Nesta.

Y/n opened the door and Nesta walked in as if she owned the place.

"I was searching for you and saw you running, so I wanted to check if everything's alright." She declared, but then she faltered, her features softening when she saw the state Y/n was in. "What happened?"

It all came pouring out of Y/n as she sat down in an armchair. Nesta was fuming, so Y/n added, "It's okay. He doesn't owe me anything."

A mischievous glint entered Nesta's eyes and she grinned. "If he doesn't owe you anything, you dont owe him anything."

"What do you mean?" Though Y/n had an inkling of what might be brewing in Nesta's mind, she still asked carefully.

"Oh you just wait darling."

•○🌑○•

"I–I can't wear this, Nesta." Y/n mumbled as she stared at herself in the mirror. Nesta had come to Mor, telling her of her mastermind plan, all while Y/n had stood in a corner face-palming. They had then informed her that everyone was going to a place called Rita's, which had been the main reason Nesta had been searching for her.

Now they had forced her into something that barely had the right to be called a rag, let alone a dress.

"You can and you will." She was adamant. But when Y/n refused to budge, Nesta handed her another dress. This one, thank the cauldron, could be called a dress, but for someone who didn't need to breathe. As she tried it on, she had to wonder why she was even here in the first place when she could be peacefully sleeping right now.

This dress was stretchy and fully black, like a second skin on Y/n with a high neck and long sleeves that both left everything to the imagination as well as nothing.

"Will this be alright?" Mor asked. When Y/n nodded, they both launched into what their plan was as Y/n blushed.

•○🌑○•

She wasn't really fond of this place, Y/n decided in the first few moments she was there. It was a little too loud for her. But she had a purpose, or rather, Mor and Nesta had a purpose.

When everyone, including Azriel had arrived at Rita's, the two females had pulled Y/n away to the bar, where they sat on high stools and sipped drinks. Mor and Nesta were having wine, and Y/n had some non alcoholic drink that Mor had ordered for her.

According to their plan, they were going to get Y/n a man, as Nesta put it. Someone who might want to have Y/n, because when Azriel and she had promised themselves to each other, there was no rule stating that they could have a relationship with someone else. And while Y/n didn't really like the idea, she had to distract herself with something.

Soon enough, a male slid into the stool next to her, giving her a wink and a smile. She panicked, turning to Nesta, who nodded enthusiastically. So Y/n gave him a small smile back as he started up a conversation. Nothing much, just where she was from and what her interests were. It all went smoothly, until it didn't.

The male glanced behind Y/n, going pale. She turned too, wanting to know what happened. And there he stood.

Her husband.

He looked... scary, for the lack of a better word in her mind.

"Who are you?" He asked the male in a deadly voice, completely ignoring Y/n.

"I could ask the same of you." The male said, though his voice trembled.

"But you won't, you already know who I am. So, run, little boy. Before my generosity ends." The male opened his mouth to argue, but Azriel continued. "That's my wife you're–"

Y/n stopped hearing anything he said then, a ringing in her ears. He had just called her his wife, when he would not even look at her when she tried to talk to him. She stared at him, wondering if he was serious. But then he turned to her.

"We're going home." And she wanted to slap him. He didn't give her a choice, taking her hand and winnowing away. The next moment they were standing in one of the sitting rooms in the House.

And then, he had the audacity to turn and walk away. Every other time when she had tried to speak with him and he had walked away, she had let him do that, but not now. Not when one moment he was calling her his wife and scaring away males who wanted to talk to her, and the next he pretended as if she didn't exist.

So she walked ahead of him and blocked his path. He stopped, but didn't look at her, increasing her fury. "Why would you do that?"

He didn't answer, starting forward again, trying to go around her. She pushed against his chest. He finally looked at her, his eyes cold. "Let me go, Y/n."

"Then tell me why you did that!"

A sigh escaped his lips. "Because it felt right at the time, but now I feel like that was a mistake. If I hadn't taken you away, then maybe you would have left me alone."

She gaped at him, at a loss for words as he again tried to walk away. When she didn't move, he turned towards a nearby balcony and took off. Her heart was breaking, and the agony was unbearable.

So she silenced everything around her, and, her resolve hardening, she walked towards a staircase nearby.

She just wanted some peace. And peace she would get.

•○🌑○•

The cool night air stung Y/n's cheeks, but she didn't feel it through the numbness in her body. She just wondered what the air would feel like when she sped through it towards the ground.

She was standing on the edge of a landing, one that didn't have a railing. These past weeks she'd had nothing to do except explore the house, and she had come across a secret stairway full of dust and spider webs which led to here. From the looks of it, no one knew about this place.

She took a deep breath and lifted a leg, suspending it in the air as she stared below her and imagined what would happen if she took a step forward. A smile bloomed on her lips. She could finally have her peace, and she won't be a burden for anyone any longer. Freedom lay just a few inches from her feet, all she had to do was let go of the restrains holding her in place.

Of course, she wasn't going to take that step. Not because she wanted to live or anything like that. No, she wouldn't take that step because she had come to care for the Inner Circle, mainly Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. Maybe Mor too. So she wouldn't take that step.

But when did life ever go according to what she wanted? Was it even life when she didn't know what it felt like to be alive?

She started to take her feet back, to set it on the firmness of the floor below her. But then, it got caught against the rough stone. She lost her balance. And fell forward.

All thoughts fled her mind except the fact that she was falling too fast. Even though it might have given her some relief, she didn't want to die.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry.

But she did neither. If she was going to die, she would die with dignity. She would die with all the confidence she never had.

The ground was getting closer, the air tearing at her hair and cheeks and eyes. So she closed her eyes and waited for the pain. Or would it not hurt? Maybe she'd stop feeling the moment she touched the ground.

A loud flapping sound came from somewhere above her, and then suddenly Y/n's body was jerked in the other direction, all the air fleeing her lungs as she felt two solid bands of muscle and fire wrap around her. Despite not knowing who had become her saviour, she didn't care. She was just grateful for being saved.

But then she opened her eyes to find herself staring at Azriel, who pointedly ignored her. All the thoughts of why she had wanted to do this in the first place came back to her, and she pushed against his chest. He looked down to glare at her, flying faster.

He landed in the training area, but even though they they were both standing on stable ground, he didn't let go. When Y/n tried to push him away, he pulled her impossibly closer.

"Are you insane?" He murmured, his eyes churning like a storm. She didn't answer, still trying to untangle him from her. After a few moments, he let go. She stumbled back, trying to put as much space between them as she could, panting. "That was stupid. You can't throw your life away like that!"

His breathing mirrored hers as his voice echoed around them.

"What do you care about my life? And if you have somehow forgotten, you told me to do that yourself."

"I didn't!"

"Oh you most certainly did."

"When?" His eyes were so wide, Y/n wondered if his eyeballs would fall out.

"The first night."

"I didnt mean it!"

Y/n turned away, not having the energy to argue with him. But of course he was not one to be ignored. He caught her wrist and whipped her around, snarling.

"Didn't you want to talk? Talk. I'm ready to hear."

"Now you're ready to listen? Then answer my question first. Why do you hate me so much?" She didn't want to talk right now, still shaken from her encounter with near death, but she didn't know when he'd be ready to talk again. This could be her only chance, and she would take it.

"Bec–because you ruined my life."

"I ruined your life? Do you think I had any choice in the matter? I didn't ask for this, Azriel."

"I know you didn't, but–"

"But what Azriel? Do you think I didn't try to stop him from taking me to Hewn City that day? How do you think that went?" He was silent, staring at her, so she forged on, laughing. "You say I ruined your life, but atleast you had one. You lived. I didn't Azriel. Everyday I woke up hoping that you would come, and take me away to a better place, just like you told me you would. That was all you ever talked about when we were kids. That you would take me away when we grew up and always be my friend." He flinched at the venom in her voice. "I prayed you weren't dead. Because in that home, Azriel? I didn't live, I existed. My father wouldn't let me live. You left and had most of your life to enjoy, but do you know what I went through in that cauldron forsaken place?"

"You can't blame me for what your father did." There was no bite to his words and they sounded more like a question.

"Oh? And you can blame me for what our fathers did?" He stayed quiet. She continued laughing, tears now streaming down her face. "The suffering I went through everyday was not enough for my father. Almost everyday, he'd taunt and tell at me that I was burden and if you didn't come back, he'd kill me. I had to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't going to fulfil that promise."

"You could have left..."

Y/n raised a brow, an incredulous smile on her face. "Do you even want me to answer that?" All the energy that had been in her drained, the venom in her voice now gone. She turned away. "When you don't know what someone's life has been like, don't speak about it like you do." She paused, then asked one last question. "Why did you... bring me back from Rita's?"

"Because you're my wife and you're supposed to be mine..." He sounded so guilty and sad that for a moment Y/n pitied him. He probably loved Elain, and he was now stuck with Y/n.

She turned halfway, looking at him. "If I'm yours, are you supposed to be mine? Because when I saw you and Elain today, it didn't seem like it."

The blood drained from his face as he stared at her. Her brows furrowed. Had the shadow not told him about her presence? She glanced at them where they churned restlessly around him. Feeling something cool caressing her wrist, she glanced down. It was a shadow, slithering against her skin. A corner of her lips lifted as the shadow darted back to its master. She turned away again.

She left him there, planning on going to sleep.

Hoping to never wake up.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes

Part 5

[merry-kuroo]

Rook's Birthday - A Lucanis x Rook Birthday Fic

Hello everyone :)

Today is my birthday and I decided to gift myself a Rookanis fic :)

Characters will probably be OOC and if any of the Dragon Age lore is wrong...I apologize. I just got into Dragon Age in June so I still get information mixed up.

Okay I hope you all enjoy <3

Thank you @thebookworm0001 and @tkwritesdumbassassins for the support

Warnings? Uhhh may be some grammatical errors or weird sentences since I didn't get to spend time editing this like I wanted. Maybe some spoilers?? No Spite...sorry y'all :( He'll be included in my future Rookanis fics.

Words: 3,576

Lucanis Dellamorte had experience wrapping presents. Vials that released poison once the box was opened, making the target suffer a slow and painful death was a assassination method for the Antivan Crows. It wasn't his favorite or preferred method, but it got the job done in certain situations. During one job, he watched Illario wrap a box to look like a present, but it was empty except for an ominous note warning of the target's impending death –a flare for the dramatic that was Illario’s idea. The wrapping looked like shit, so Lucanis tore the wrapping paper off and redid it. 

This present was different. 

Lucanis couldn't make a decision about the wrapping paper color, the size of the bow, and whether he should add curling ribbon. The other members of the Veilguard–Harding, Neve, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash–were in the library wrapping their birthday gifts for Rook. He occasionally heard some laughter from the room. Lucanis decided to wrap Rook’s presents in his room.   

Lucanis opened up the slate gray jewelry box and stared at the large, silver hoop earrings lying within. When he and Rook went shopping at a night market in Rivain a couple of weeks prior to her birthday, she had stopped at a jewelry stand and marveled at the earring's simplistic yet elegant hoop design. They were shaped like ovals.  Lucanis was sure she would buy them–she touched her empty ear lobes as the vendor tried to goad her into buying them. Being a member of the Lord of Fortunes, Rook had a penchant for jewelry and anything that looked shiny and valuable. She always wore earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and anklets. 

She considered the earrings for another moment or two then declined and hurried away from the vendor. On the way back to the eluvian that would take them back to the Crossroads, then the Lighthouse, she hardly spoke. Lucanis knew she was upset, but he didn't think they were close enough for him to ask her why she was upset. 

When they were back in the Lighthouse, she admitted to him that the earrings were the same kind her mother wore and that had brought up a homesickness for her village, her family, and friends she grew up with. Later on that evening, when Rook was distracted by teaching  Manfred a complicated card, Lucanis used the eluvian to go back to Rivain and buy the earrings from the night market vendor. 

“I’m glad you’re buying something for your wife. Sometimes it's nice for a husband to buy his wife something pretty,” The vendor said as he placed the earrings in a box. “Do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“She isn’t my wife,” Lucanis said, much harsher than he intended. The vendor swallowed and gave Lucanis the box before he attended to the next customer. 

That’s right. Rook–Ava– was his companion. She led the Veilguard and he owed her a debt for breaking him out of the Ossuary. She was also helping him find Zara Renata. She was a good person and a good leader–something that Lucanis was happy to see her keep balanced despite all the hardships they’ve faced for the last few months. It was exactly for that reason why his eyes lingered on her a little longer when she was done speaking, and why a burst of joy sparked in him when she praised his cooking and demanded seconds. It felt like a balancing act. He felt like he’d known Rook all his life and yet he didn’t know anything about her. 

It was Bellara who announced that Rook’s birthday was coming up and that they should do something for her. Hence why he was obsessing over wrapping paper and ribbons and bows of all things. Maker, spare him…

At least Rook wasn’t here. Davrin had volunteered to distract her and take her away from the Lighthouse so everyone could wrap their gifts. After Lucanis was done wrapping the gifts, he’d have to start making a cake, but he’d only do that after Rook went to bed. If she came back from her excursion with Davrin and caught him baking a cake, she would insist on staying in the kitchen as “the chef’s taste tester”. 

Lucanis finally settled on purple wrapping paper and a green bow and ribbon. Rook had mentioned to him once that purple and green were her favorite colors, which is something he didn’t expect because she always wore blues, reds, and yellows–the typical colors of the Lords of Fortune. 

Night fell and Davrin and Rook came back. She announced that she was going to bed early and bid everyone goodnight. Everyone else had finished wrapping their presents before she came back and placed the presents in their rooms. Lucanis began baking a vanilla cake with a cinnamon sugar filling and icing. He used the icing pipe to draw a Rook on the cake. Once it was done, he put it in an ice box. Lucanis’s eyes found themselves looking at Rook’s present again. A pair of earrings didn’t feel like enough. What the vendor at the market said bothered him. Something pretty…the earrings were simple, but pretty. Rook loved jewelry, she made that very clear with the way she wore different necklaces and bracelets everyday and the studs and dangling earrings that started in her earlobe and traveled up her ear. 

Wait. Didn’t she like…

 Lucanis went to his trunk and pulled out a silver dagger. One day when he was cleaning his daggers, Rook had wandered into the pantry for a snack and she saw him. She didn’t say anything as she sat on the floor with him and watched him meticulously clean each dagger. Rook touched one that had a dark blue gemstone embedded in the center of the hilt. She ran her fingers over the gem, smiled, and said, “This is beautiful.” 

Rook never used daggers in combat, but  she was proficient in using a sword and shield. Maybe giving her a dagger so she could have another weapon on hand wasn’t a bad idea. Lucanis placed the dagger back in the sheath and placed a bow on it. He grabbed the earrings and dagger and headed towards Rook’s room. 

Once he arrived, he lingered at her door. It was past midnight meaning he could wish her a happy birthday now. The plan was for everyone to give their gifts to her tomorrow morning. He didn’t want to give his gifts in front of other people. Lucanis rarely felt embarrassed, but Rook brought these feelings to the surface. He sighed and placed the presents in front of her door. She’d see them first thing in the morning. He didn’t place a namecard with his signature on the presents, but he hoped that she would know it was from him.

Lucanis turned away and headed back to his room, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before Rook’s birthday celebration began. 

—------

Ava was still awake in her room. She twirled a pen around her fingers and stared at the strip of paper she had torn off her journal. 

When she was a child, her parents would have her write down her birthday wish on a piece of paper then she'd place it under her pillow. Her mother said her wish would come true if she slept on it. It was a silly thing she did as a child and she hadn't done it in years. But this year had been a lot–the elven gods broke free of the Veil, she was leading a group of people from different factions to fight these beings, and her mother was sick. Her mother was sick but Ava couldn't afford to take care of her because of all the aforementioned reasons. 

Ava sighed. She was thankful for the Crossroads and the eluvian that took her to Rivain and teleported her close to where she grew up. Because she did check up on her family when time allowed, maybe she could be a bit selfish with her birthday wish tonight. 

Ava wrote her wish down on the slip of paper and placed it under her pillow. She was going to be thirty years old tomorrow. Her 29th year in this world had brought hardships, but it also blessed her with incredible companions. 

Her thirtieth year may be even more tumultuous but she was confident it'd be okay as long as she had the Veilguard with her. 

—-----

Taash volunteered to get Rook from her room when everyone arrived in the dining room with their presents. Everyone sat at the dining room table, leaving the spot at the head of the table available for Rook. Lucanis sat at the far end of the table. Neve took a seat across from Lucanis and Davrin sat to his right. Lucanis started bouncing his leg.

Neve looked under the table, then looked back up at Lucanis and smirked. Lucanis’s leg stopped moving. “Nervous?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

Before Lucanis could ask her what she knew, a blindfolded Rook walked into the dining room. She was holding Taash’s hand and frowning. 

“Taash! Seriously, where are we going?” Rook whined. 

“Okay, take your blindfold off,” Taash said. 

Rook pulled it down and everyone said, “Happy birthday, Rook!”

She gasped, then began laughing. Her dark brown eyes shined with amusement. “Thank you everyone! You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I know how crazy things have gotten with fighting the elven gods and dealing with darkspawn, Venatori, Antaam…” Bellara counted the adversaries they faced in the last few months on her hand. “But it’s always good to take a breather and celebrate something, right? So we didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

Rook wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. “Thank you all. I’m so lucky to have you all.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the sappy shit. Come open your presents,” Taash said as she led Rook to the head of the table. She was seated between Harding and Bellara. 

Lucanis noticed her bare earlobes, and he pushed the disappointment aside. Was it wrong to think she would have put them on first thing in the morning? He watched Rook take Harding’s present and shake the box lightly, trying to guess what was inside before she opened it. 

Neve cleared her throat. Lucanis felt a small box and a dagger sheath being pushed into his hand. “Give it to her in person. Don’t just leave it in front of her door. That’s not how you’ll get her to like you back,” Neve whispered. 

Davrin turned towards them and nodded his head in agreement. He whispered to Lucanis, “Assan had the presents in his mouth when I woke up this morning. Even he knows you need to give these to Ava in person.”

Ava. 

It wasn’t a secret that Rook and Davrin were close, but he didn’t expect him to call Rook by her real name. Lucanis thought about calling her Ava too, but she seemed comfortable being called Rook. But did she like it when some people called her by her real name? Lucanis's frown deepened. 

The sound of wrapping paper being shredded snapped Lucanis back to the present moment. This was about Rook and celebrating her thirtieth birthday, not him and his feelings. Rook smiled as she opened Harding’s present–a blue scarf to wear since the weather was becoming colder, bath salts, and lotion. Bellara handed her present to Rook next. Rook unwrapped it to reveal a fluffy pink blanket. Rook immediately wrapped it around her shoulders and sighed contently. 

Emmerich passed her his present. The present elicited an excited squeal from her. It was a gift basket filled with Rook’s favorite coffee and tea flavors from Rivain. She stood up and hugged Emmerich while thanking him profusely. Lucanis suddenly found the notch on the table very interesting. 

Taash gave her a bracelet, also from Rivain. It contained her birthstone in the middle and Rook immediately slipped it on to her left wrist. Neve gifted Rook the next installment of her favorite detective romance novel series. What made Rook emotional was that it was translated into Rivaini and not the trade tongue, which Rook had been reading most of her novels from recently.

“Thank you. I’ve missed reading books in Rivaini,” Rook said as she flipped through the pages. 

Davrin’s present was a wooden carving of Rook, who looked like a little girl, and she played with a dog. Rook had a dog in Rivain and she had mentioned multiple times that she missed him. Rook hugged Davrin, and a flash of irritation ran through Lucanis. He ignored the knowing look Neve gave him. One again, Lucanis found the notch on the table very interesting.

Then everyone was staring at him. Waiting for him to give Rook her presents. He had no doubt Davrin and Neve told Harding, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash about him leaving Rook’s presents in front of the door. They all looked at him knowingly, and Rook looked at him…expectedly. Then a flash of hurt appeared on her face. His hesitation made her think he didn’t have a gift for her. He would give her the gifts, but now wasn’t the time. It didn’t feel right.

“I made you a cake,” Lucanis said, cutting through the awkward moment. He pushed Rook’s presents into Davrin’s lap with a little more force than he intended. He stood up and walked to the ice box to grab the cake. 

He brought it to the dining room and Rook’s eyes lit up. “Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a cinnamon sugar cake. Thank you, Lucanis.”

The back of his neck grew warm. He didn’t respond as he placed the cake on the table. Emmerich and Neve brought the plates and cutlery from the kitchen. The first and largest slice of cake went to Rook. She placed a spoonful of cake into her mouth. 

A moan escaped from her lips and she closed her eyes. Lucanis almost dropped his plate. Maker, the sound that came out of her was…Lucanis swallowed and he said through a thick voice, “I guess you like it?”

“I love it,” Rook exclaimed. She took another bite and moaned again. “I’m going to eat this for lunch and dinner.”

“Hey, save some for us too–” Taash said as she cut a large slice as well.

“Taash, that’s like half of the cake!” Bellara protested. “Cut that in half.”

As the Veilguard tousled over the exact cake proportions, Lucanis’s eyes stayed on Rook. She ate slowly, savoring the cake. Her fingers were sticky from the cinnamon sugar. She put one of her fingers in her mouth, licking the sugar off. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach flipped. What was this? Excitement? Dread? 

This was ridiculous. Was he really this happy just from seeing Rook happy?

His thoughts were cut short by Davrin shoving the presents back into his lap. He nudged Lucanis and tilted his head towards Rook. Rook was currently in an animated conversation with Harding and Emmerich. 

The moment still didn’t feel right. He realized what he wanted. He wanted to make her smile and laugh–and for no one else to see a moment meant just for them. 

Lucanis gripped the presents under the table and tried to enjoy the rest of the party.

—-----

Rook’s birthday was almost over. 

Lucanis found himself outside of her door again holding her wrapped presents. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard the squeak of the bed and soft footsteps pad across the floor. Rook opened the door and Lucanis took in the sight of her in pajamas. She wore a pink top with thin straps and a matching pair of pajama shorts. A black silk robe was tied around her waist, but hung loosely off her shoulder. Her black hair was pulled into a bun. She always wore her hair down or in a ponytail. Her hair pinned up looked nice. 

“Good evening Lucanis,” She said. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Oh, then do you need something?”

Lucanis pulled the presents from behind his back and handed them to Rook. “Happy birthday.” His voice sounded strange and thick like it did earlier. His nerves were growing worse as he anticipated Rook’s reaction.

Rook looked surprised–not happy like he’d imagined. Was he wrong to think the presents could make her happy? That he could make her happy? Lucanis was about to excuse himself when Rook held the door open wider and beckoned him inside. Lucanis stepped into her room and felt himself being overcome by a multitude of senses. Lots of floral and vanilla scents. They were coming from the perfume jars on her dresser. 

Rook sat down on her bed and began opening the presents. The first thing she grabbed was the dagger. She slid it out of its sheath and turned the blade over, admiring it. She touched the blue gem in the hilt, just like she had weeks ago. “This is beautiful,” Rook said. “Is this the dagger you cleaned a few weeks ago?”

“Yes,” He answered. He was so nervous that he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence. Rook still wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either. What was going on in that head of hers?

She placed the dagger back in its sheath and grabbed the second present. She opened it up and held up the silver hoop earrings. “Lucanis,” She said, surprised. “This is–”

“You were looking at them the other day at the night market in Rivain. I went back and bought them. I thought you wanted them. I–”

“I did,” Rook answered, her voice thick with emotion. “I really did. But looking at them made me miss my mother so much.” She held the earrings up, her eyes shining. “That was silly of me. I love these earrings so I should wear them, right?” 

Rook undid the clasp of the earrings and slipped them into her earlobes. She touched the hoops and smiled at him. “How do I look, Lucanis?”

“Beautiful,” He said. A strong, clear thinking Lucanis wouldn’t have said that. However, this day had been strange for him and he wasn’t used to feeling all of these emotions at once. The nerves were making him act this way. 

A smile finally appeared on Rook’s face. She stood up and walked over to him, and enveloped him into a hug. He was taken aback. By the time he realized he should be hugging her back, she was already pulling away. A small noise of disapproval escaped from him.

“Lucanis, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be truthful.” She took a deep breath. “You and me. We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, I consider you a friend,” Lucanis answered. His feelings for Rook were blossoming into something else, something he couldn’t control. But at this moment in Rook’s bedroom with no one else to see them…he could let himself admit that he had these feelings and as their mission to bring down the blighted gods continued, he knew these feelings would grow. His feelings for Rook may never disappear. 

Ava gave him a sly smile. “That’s good. I consider you a friend too.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “A good friend would show me how to use that fancy dagger over there. If you don’t, I’ll have to use it as a decoration and place it next to my perfumes.”

“What a waste,” Lucanis murmured, which made Rook laugh. 

“You know what else good friends do?” Rook laughed. “They give birthday presents to each other in person and not leave them in front of doors or hide them under the dining room table.”

“How did you know?” Lucanis sighed. 

“I’m very observant,” Rook said. “I thought about calling you out in front of everyone earlier today, but I didn’t want to embarrass you. I knew I’d get my presents eventually. I just needed to wait.”

“And…was it worth the wait?”

“It was.”

Lucanis wanted to stay–wrap Rook into his arms and listen to her talk. He could fall asleep to the sound of her voice. But he didn’t want to cross that boundary. Perhaps he never would. Right now, this moment between them in her bedroom was enough. Seeing her wear the earrings he bought her was enough. Spending time with her to teach her how to use a dagger was enough too. If he got too greedy, then they would both get hurt. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” Lucanis said as he headed towards the door. “I’ll show you how to use the  dagger tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

“Call me Ava.” She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re friends, aren’t we? You can call me Ava too when we’re alone–I mean when we’re just talking casually, ya know?”

“I’ll do that then. Goodnight, Ava,” Lucanis said. He stepped out of her room and closed the door behind him. 

What Lucanis didn’t see was Ava Laidir jumping up and down in a quiet cheer. She went to the mirror over her dresser and looked at the earrings Luanis gave her. 

Beautiful. 

Lucanis called her beautiful.  Perhaps her love wouldn’t stay one sided for long after all. It looks like the birthday wish she wrote down last night–Grow closer to Lucanis Dellamorte– came true after all.

[l-in-the-light]

Facing your own abyss in Silent Hill 2

Every save point is a red square. Looking at it is painful it's like... someone's... groping around my skull. Every hole James jumps into...

...is a square. The tv at the big reveal is an old crt one with a square screen.

Even the bathroom's mirror at the very beginning of the game is a square. Who cares about a bathroom's mirror, right? But the whole game starts with James staring at himself, into that mirror. He's staring at himself. Staring into the abyss. His mind is his own abyss. We've been looking at it the whole time, from the very start of the game.

"He who is not bold enough to be stared at from across the abyss is not bold enough to stare into himself. The truth can only be learned by marching forward."

James starts the game by staring at himself. He's not afraid of death. He thinks he wants to find out the truth, because things don't make sense to him, he can't understand anything, but he feels something is wrong.

But at the last save point, James looks away from the abyss. He was not ready to find out everything. He doesn't want to look into himself even deeper. He's afraid of what he can find. Please stop staring at me, I don't want for you to look into myself. I don't want to see any more.

A hot take: there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes it might be better not to stare too long. Heck, it takes so much courage to do that. Many, many people would rather continue their lives by holding false ideas about oneself, choosing safety over feeling uncomfortable. It's a very human thing to do. Just sometimes you don't get that choice and you can't live normally unless you not only stare back, but also jump right into that abyss. It will be terrifying, you might find things you wish you never knew, you might find out nothing of what happened to you was ever your fault, but it won't make you feel any better anyway. It's when you're at your limit that you're literally forced to face it, when you buried what made you uncomfortable so deep that you feel overwhelmed and numbed, and you don't even understand why - because you hid the reasons. Or you can just run away. Some would prefer death over the truth.

This can happen because of our mental health crashing down. Unresolved traumas, feelings, belittling our own pain, trying to fit a circle into a square hole, unbelonging.

Ultimately, it doesn't even matter what is James' personal struggle, because anyone can relate to this in some ways. You can't escape abyss for forever, we've all been there and we all will be jumping into abyss again, and again.

But this has to be said, I'm sorry not sorry:

Sometimes you will get lost in your abyss to the point you will project your own issues on other people. It's a way to make you feel more secure, safe, when you tripped over some uncomfortable truth. Because you normalize it and it can't be overwhelming anymore if everyone can relate to it, in other words: you try to belittle the problem so that the "uncomfortable feeling" goes away. It becomes normal, familiar, tamed, nothing to be afraid of as the result. But is it really fair towards the people you did the projecting on? You're not helping them or respecting them if you just throw your own issues at them like that. And this applies to Silent Hill fandom as a whole, actually, because:

Every Silent Hill game (even the bad ones, even freaking Ascension) and movie: *shows clearly that the story is about PTSD, characters suffer from symptoms and hallucinations, are triggered by sounds, suffer from victim blaming etc.*

Every second fan on reddit: James is just sexually frustrated, he doesn't have any trauma, and even if he has one it doesn't matter, what are you talking about?! You're reaching! Everything is horny and sexy in this game, my interpretation is CANON! The town is evil and it punishes James and Eddie because they're bad people! Angela did a bad thing but didn't deserve it btw.

This is mostly me venting a bit, feel free to dislike it, but I need to get it off somewhere and I decided: tumblr it is.

Like, literally, all Silent Hill series entries share a theme of PTSD, but some people will go to extreme lengths to deny it and call it "reaching" WHILE saying "sexual frustration is canon". Alessa suffers from PTSD in SH1, James, Eddie and Angela suffer from it in SH2, freaking Heather, Claudia and even Douglas suffers from it in SH3, Henry and Walter in Silent Hill 4, Travis in Origins, Alessa in the movie, Heather in the movie, Cheryl in Shattered Memories (she's even in a therapy, come on, get a clue!), Alex in Homecoming, Murphy in Downpour etc. etc. etc. They all went through a trauma, Silent Hill reflects their traumatic experiences (that they don't want to remember!), they have to face their triggers putting them through the traumatic event again and again, and then delusions attemping to lull the mind into a fake sense of comfort. Their monsters are the delusions, not their horny desires!

Btw if you see your monsters as horny creatures, then maybe you're understanding it all wrong. It's supposed to be a delusion or fear, if you're horny and just want to hump things and that's why everything you see is sexy, then it's definiely not something you actually fear, and if it is, then I think you have bigger issues to deal with than sexual frustration here.

That being said, the creature monster designer, Masahiro Ito, called those monsters "delusions". Delusion is something that isn't an accurate representation of a concept in your mind. Delusion is far removed from reality. You want to believe a lie, because you can't handle the truth.

Now, if monsters are showing your sexual frustration that you don't want to admit you have, then they should be dressed like nuns instead. You want to deceive your mind, you want to believe you're not *that* horny and are faithful to your one and only, you can't handle the possibility that you're thinking of having an affair on the side.

Let's unpack this monster (Abstract Daddy/Ideal Father), having all of the above in mind:

It's a surreal creature consisting of two people, it has two heads and two mouths. And it's not literally showing intercourse like so many in "sexual frustration is canon" camp are claiming. Because that would be *a literal representation*, not a delusion. You would literally be seeing what happened, forcing you to face it in it's full horror and that can't make you believe in a lie (remember, the idea is that: you can't handle the truth, your mind is creating a delusion to calm you down). It's a self-defense mechanism fighting back against the trauma. You need to get rid of that delusion so you can face what actually happened!

There's one more description of Abstract Daddy in Japanese that is never truly translated into english. It's おぶさったとおちゃん (obusatta tōchan), loosely it means something like "piggyback daddy"; a dad carrying a child on their shoulders/back. Now look at the creature again. It looks like a smaller person is clinging to a bigger one, if you consider that the whole frame belongs to the person on the bottom and is "their body". Perhaps the door/bedframe person is carrying the smaller one on top of itself, but since the child is heavy/older now the frame ends up bending towards the ground. It's an image of a dad carrying his child.

Kinda like this (Inu Yasha is here just to illustrate the concept). That's why the limbs are hanging loosely like that on the monster's design.

Wait a moment, but why is the frame so big under the top person? It doesn't look like part of a body at all. That's because of the subjective perspective. When you're a small child, your dad looks especially big to you. When you cling to his back, you feel like it's so broad, strong and big; so big your hands won't meet when you embrace him. And most importantly, makes you feel safe and secure, because a father should protect his child. I could swear I even read lines like that in mangas or heard them in movies before, because that's definitely not my own impression there I thought up on my very own.

In order to see the truth that your parent was an abuser, you need to get rid of that "safe and secure" feeling of delusion you're experiencing. The monster is wrapped in cloth btw to obscure the truth, what you see on the surface is incorrect, the truth is trapped underneath (and if you want to, then NOW is the moment to jump to your intercourse thoughts or draw a parallel to Mary on sickbed. Let's call it an extra layer to this monster). Literally uncovering it would be the very definition of a horror.

Extra thought: the monster attacks James like it wants to protect Angela from the possible stranger (what an Ideal Father should do, indeed). Makes the whole scene afterwards have a lot more sense too, with Angela calling James a disgusting pig who is also only after "one thing". She considered James a threat, but it wasn't a conscious fear until the defeat of the monster. Next time they will meet, Angela starts to mistake James as her mom instead, so the whole paranoid delusion of James being a threat (because he's a male and males became her PTSD trigger) got dissolved and it's the result of Abstract Daddy's defeat. Angela now knows who was the real threat.

Finally, after 10+ years I solved the mystery of Abstract Daddy. You're welcome if you enjoyed the ride. I don't even like this monster's design all that much (I find Mandarins way cooler). But this isn't the end. If Abstract Daddy is a delusion, it means all the other monsters are also delusions and HIDE the truth, not "expose" or "manifest" it in straightforward manner. Only getting rid of them by unwrapping the actual thing underneath will lead you towards truth, believing the surface level will leave you delusional. There's still a lot to unwrap about the 9 delusions of James.

Yes, Abstract Daddy is how the monster looks like for James. We never knew how it looked like for Angela. Just the name alone suggests James has some trauma related to his father as well, which is a link that connects James to Angela.

And you know what, it's fine if you thought all this time that James is just sexually frustrated. I don't know how you can explain to yourself the fact that he needs to fight the sexy creatures instead of being overjoyed he can "'get some" finally. I thought that's how touch starvation works? But even if you somehow projected your own fears onto James it's alright. You just caught a glimpse of your own abyss and maybe you're not yet ready to stare back at it. We all keep doing those mistakes. It's just human.

Yes, of course me too. Why else do you think it took me 10+ years to solve this mystery? And it's only a start of it, we barely made it under the surface of this iceberg. But I feel like most Silent Hill fans aren't even remotely interested in any interpretation that opposes "sexual frustration" angle, especially now after Masahiro Ito denied that's it's not a canon interpretation, yeeting it back to "headcanon" category where it always belonged.

Yes, sexual themes are there in the game to make you uncomfortable, but if you know the sources of inspiration (Jung), then you know the uncomfortable levels get much deeper than your post-pandemic touch starvation. Maybe you're not ready or not interested to go that far and it's alright. I'm actually not so sure I'm ready to face the deepest depths of James's abyss myself. It both fascinates and terrifies me. We might have to go full Lynch on Silent Hill 2 and realize that nothing is what it actually seems.

Link to my previous interpretation essay on Silent Hill 2, in case anyone is interested (it's about merging of Otherworlds): https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/765829615005597696.

[viviuxd]

INNOCENT LOVE:a viking fell in love with me!

SYPNOSIS: Given away by her father to one of the most feared Viking kings, she finds herself betrothed. However, the clash between their beliefs and traditions threatens to unravel the union before it even begins. PAIRING: Viking x Christian!reader.

TW:difference in spiritual beliefs, mention of polygamy and death.

You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves, digging your nails into the delicate silk dress while observing the nearby door where your 'future husband' awaited. Truly, you had no intention of marrying him, and you would tell him so. You didn't care if rejecting him meant risking your life; you preferred that over marrying a pagan. You were well aware of Viking customs: they married many women, were cruel, killers, and worst of all, they worshipped pagan gods! You definitely couldn't be with someone like that.

Finally, you stopped walking alongside the guards, facing an immense wooden door. One guard effortlessly opened it, and for the first time, the other guard addressed you.

"Please, this way, miss. King Thorkell is waiting for you," he gestured with his hand for you to enter, offering a faint smile.

"Thank you, sir," you expressed your gratitude, delicately bowing your head to display your manners.

You sighed, closing your eyes, nervous. You walked slowly forward, feeling your legs tremble, your stomach churn, and a nauseating sensation. Upon lifting your gaze, a pang shot through your torso. The mighty King Thorkell stared at you intently, with a lethal gaze, as if he could see your sins. You swallowed hard and, with great effort, made a bow, inclining your body forward.

"King Thorkell."

°१९*०°

She entered the hall escorted by the guards I assigned and I noticed how her whole body trembled as she approached me. Her fear was evident, and I relished in her submission.

I knew she was Christian; they were very ignorant and weak in this world. I despised all those idiots, but the woman in front of me seemed different. Clearly, the ideals she sought in a partner were not ones I could offer, and her innocence was remarkable, her beautiful eyes looking at me with fear and obedience... she was so charming that I desired her for myself in that very moment.

"King Thorkell." I felt a tingling down my back as I heard her sweet voice. I cursed myself for summoning her so soon; I should have prepared for her.

°१९*०°

Your eyes fixated on his bulging muscles, evident even through his clothing. You swallowed hard, realizing the thoughts you had; a Viking could never interest you.

"The wedding will take place as soon as possible, so you shouldn't worry about that. From now on, you will reside in the palace, and a separate chamber will be assigned to you until you adapt. Do you understand, miss?"

You sensed his arrogance in his final words, and you clenched your fist a bit tighter. "How disrespectful," you muttered to yourself.

"King, if you allow me, I have something to say..." You wanted to clear your throat upon hearing your trembling voice. "Speak quickly, I don't have much time."

It was your first conversation, and you truly detested how he addressed you, but you chose to ignore it and demonstrate that you indeed had manners.

"I do not wish to marry you, Your Majesty."

At that moment, pride surged within you. Your words sounded so serious that you felt proud of yourself.

"I don't say it to offend you, only that it goes against my values to unite with..." You paused, carefully choosing your words to avoid upsetting him. "Someone like you."

You saw his jaw tense, and you took a step back when he rose from his throne and slowly walked towards you, his face filled with hatred. You stopped abruptly, colliding with a nearby column, finding yourself cornered by Thorkell.

He leaned towards you, the noticeable difference in height between you two, positioning himself right in front of your face, too close for comfort.

"Someone like me?" He murmured, his breath dangerously nearing you.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 9

True Romantic

Series masterlist

Previous part: Twinkles Next part: Star crossed lover

Word count: 7,040

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

As soon as you left your apartment for your meeting with Fury, Steve raced to his own place. As fast as he could, he took a shower and got dressed and as presentable as he could in the short amount of time that he had before fast walking all the way to Fury's office.

In the hallway and outside of Fury's door, there was already a small group of Avengers awaiting the end of the meeting to find out what you chose to do.

Bucky leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers against it. Natasha was trying her hardest to read Fury's lips through the small window in the office door, unfortunately she couldn't see your lips or facial expressions since your back was facing the door. Tony was also there, but he was trying his hardest to pretend like he couldn't care less about any of this debacle. Sam was there too, but mostly because he just wanted to be where Steve and Bucky were. As crazy as it was, you and Sam had never met each other before regardless of how close you both were to the boys, but based off the stories that were told back and forth, the two of you might as well have been friends this whole time.

Steve let out a breath of relief as he approached, knowing for sure now that you were still on the meeting and hadn't missed the Avenger's interrogation to follow.

All of the Avengers turned their heads to investigate Steve's fast approaching steps, but he didn't hold their attention for more than a couple seconds as they all turned back to continue their investigation.

"Fury is smiling." Nat informed Steve, still on her tippy toes staring through the small window.

"Fury never smiles" Steve noted, leaning against the wall next to Sam.

"I didn't even know she was back at the compound." Bucky told Steve.

"She came home last night, I didn't know she was coming back either." Steve told him.

"Oh so 306 sneaking into your apartment was a surprise to you too?" Tony asked Steve, obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

Steve didn't miss the way Bucky's eyebrows raised, or the snickering coming from Sam and Natasha. "You make it sound so naughty"

"Just calling it how I saw it. Deflecting much?"

"So you two really made up, huh?" Bucky flung his arm around Steve's shoulder.

"Oh my go- no. I mean, yes, we did make up. But no, nothing weird happened." Steve confirmed... and denied. Either way, his cheeks felt hotter than the surface of the sun. "What? Were you spying on me?"

"No, I was just walking down the hallway and was visually assaulted by the sight of a woman way out of your league opening your door." Tony explained. "Don't really know what else that could be other than a Star Spangled booty call"

"Unlike you, I respect women too much to participate in booty calls, whatever that means." Steve huffed in disgust. "Not that it's any of your business, she was actually just being a good friend. I was having a tough night and she came to cheer me up."

"Oh, I bet she came alright" Sam joked with a wink, voice taunting Steve.

"That's my boy!" Bucky held his hand up for a high five from Steve, but he was left hanging and earned a death glare.

"You boys are all stupid, I think this is all code for Rogers had a panic attack last night." Natasha noted, eyes never leaving the window.

"Alright, Cap, what's more embarrassing for you? Admitting you were clapping cheeks or having a breakdown." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing embarrassing about either of those things, but I prefer to keep both of them to myself. Thank you very much." Steve refused to let them get a rise out of him.

"What a noble answer" Sam noted.

"306 is signing papers, Fury is laughing." Nat updated.

"I didn't know Fury was even capable of laughing." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"She must be really charismatic if she has the big guy laughing and seems to have you boys wrapped around her finger." Sam theorized.

"Or she's demonic. Maybe she practices witch craft and puts spells on people." Tony agreed.

"If that was the case, the poor girl wouldn't be terrorized and miserable every day of her life." Natasha defended you. "Maybe she's happy she can finally get the hell out of here."

"You think she's going to leave for good, pal?" Bucky questioned looking right at Steve who was looking down at the floor.

"No." Steve lifted his eyes to look at Bucky while shaking his head. "Fury wouldn't be happy if she was leaving. She makes his life too easy. If she left he would be losing a lot."

"What ever ended up happening to that guy? The one that go her really hurt?" Tony asked.

Steve sighed. "He's on a final warning, one wrong move away from getting fired and black listed from the compound."

“Why do I feel like that's always the case, yet he keeps doing shitty things and he's still here?" Sam asked.

"It's not always him that's doing it, his punk friends aren't any better." Steve said regretfully. "Admittedly I've been trying for a while to get him out for good but he's slimy, always finds a way to slip right through."

Nat turned her head away from looking in the window for a few moments to look at the sad look evident on Steve's face. "Why didn't you tell me? Give me 10 minutes of digging and I'll find some dirt to get him out of here."

"If you can do that, I'd be the happiest man on the planet." Steve encouraged.

Natasha's eyes went back to the door. "Everyone shut up they're standing and shaking hands!"

"Act normal!" Sam announced.

Nat took a big step back and leaned against the wall with everyone else. The door swung open and Fury came out first.

He looked at everyone, but didn't even stop walking while announcing "I'm not even going to ask."

Then, out came you.

Steve couldn't even stop himself from smiling when he saw you, and he was painfully aware of it. You looked just as pretty as you did an hour and a half ago, and it still made his heart beat unfortunately fast.

You stopped in your tracks when you noticed the group that had formed in the hallway. Feeling a bit confused, you looked down the hall to the left, then the right, then you looked behind you.

"I'm confused, what's happening?" You asked. Intimidation overtook the confusion.

Your brain raced and started overthinking when you saw Natasha. Now that her and Bucky were dating, you wondered if she knew what happened and if it would make her not like you. The thought of that happening made you sad, all you wanted was to be friends with her.... And Sam. Why was Sam here?

"You're what's happening, Bug." Bucky confirmed.

"What did you choose to do?" Steve asked, Hope smeared all over his face.

With a blank face, you looked down at the signed contract in your hands before lifting it up to show them.

All four of the Avengers in front of you took a step or two forward before squinting their eyes at the paper, there was a moment of concentration as they all read the header.

Contract of employment: The Avengers Initiative.

Immediately following, there was a lot more celebration than you ever anticipated. You stood with a smile on your face as there was some gasping, shouting, jumping up and down from Sam and Bucky, you're pretty sure you caught a glimpse of Nat whacking Steve's arm, and Tony saying I knew it a few times.

That was all before Sam walked over to you to give you an unsuspecting hug that you happily granted him. But all was not as it seemed because that hug turned into you being picked up and spun around.

Your squeak of surprise didn't go unnoticed by Steve who was quick to pick you up out of Sam's arms and return your two feet back to the floor before giving you a hug of his own. But because they were Avengers, and the chaos seemed to never trail too far behind them, Bucky joined that hug too.

Being held by both of the boys was healing in a way you didn't quite know you needed. Especially when you could tell neither of them were harboring resentment or hard feelings. It felt normal, happy even.

Then Nat joined, followed by Sam, then Tony walked away because he definitely wasn't going to get in on that.

Your head was smushed into Steve's chest so you couldn't really see much, but you could hear Sam. "Nice to finally meet you, 306."

"You too, Sam." You giggled at how unable you were to move any part of your body in the big Avengers hallway cuddle. "We should grab a coffee one day."

"Not before I get to spend a day with you!" Nat spoke, fighting for your time. "Rogers says you like to eat, so we're going out to eat with no boys."

"Steve, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You questioned jokingly, trying your hardest to lift your head to look at his face.

"That is not what I said." Steve defended himself with a shake of his head and a laugh. "I said you love food, like your eyes light up when you have food in front of you. Don't twist my words!"

"Mmmhmm" You said suspiciously.

"Are you free to get dinner tonight?" Nat asked you, releasing you from her arms.

Sam followed by letting you go, but it was clear that Bucky and Steve had no interest in dropping their arms, but at least now you could look at Nat as she spoke to you.

Your head immediately went to all of the stuff you needed to get sorted out. Bucky, Steve, telling Luca you were an Avenger, definitely calling your parents.

“Wait, not tonight." Steve reminded Nat. "We have that thing tonight, remember?"

"Oh! Right! So I'll be seeing you tonight anyways! That works for me." Nat said.

"Oh and me too. We all get her!" Sam enthused.

"What thing tonight?" You questioned.

A beeping sound came from Sam and Nat's smart watches, they both read the notification. "Well, duty calls. Congratulations, 306, so happy to have you on the team and I'll see you later!"

"Welcome to the team" Sam waved before they walked off together leaving just you, Steve, and Bucky.

"This is nice and all, but will one of you tell me what's happening tonight?" You asked the two boys who were still holding on to you.

"The team is going to a winery to celebrate the new addition!" Steve told you.

"That's suspiciously fast planning" you raised an eyebrow.

"Be ready to go by 6 o'clock, you're going with Steve." Bucky told you. "We can't get drunk, so obviously, we're going to drive."

Bucky let go of you, and only then did Steve let you go too.

"I guess that makes sense" You nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious and painfully aware that this was the first time the three of you have been together since that night before evaluation.

The boys read your body language like a hawk, especially when your big smile finally fell and your arms crossed over your chest, while your back leaned onto the wall.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, eyes filling with concern.

You let out a chuckle before standing up straight again, arms falling back down to your side. "Just overwhelmed. I still can't really comprehend what this means for me but I guess this is the only way to find out."

Steve could read between the lines. "You're worried about how the agents are going to react to this?"

"Yeah" You nodded. On the wall was a big Avengers A logo, and under it was an electronic screen displaying the names of the entire team. The boys eyes followed your finger as you pointed directly at it. "My name is already on it. The word is already out and admittedly, I'm a little scared to walk back to my apartment."

"I'll walk you home." Steve understood your anxiety.

Even a couple weeks ago you were getting shoved into walls and tripped by your peers when you gave them no reason to be angry. But now, they had a whole lot of grounds for jealousy. They both knew that probably wasn't the safest situation for you to be living in.

"We're always here in the compound, Bug." Bucky reminded you. "If you need us to hang out with you until the buzz dies down, we will."

"Thanks, Buck." You said genuinely, but you couldn't get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that settled deep in your stomach. You knew you just had to address what happened. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming back. I just decided last night and when I got back it was late and-"

"Don't sweat it" Bucky denied your apology. "Don't sweat anything. We're fine."

His words made the heaviness feel so much lighter. A sigh of relief escaped your lips "we're fine?"

"We're fine." Steve agreed.

All you did was open your arms again for another hug from them, feeling more than ready to put this all behind you. Once again they happily accepted, one arm squeezing each of them tightly.

"I really love you guys." You reminded them, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears of relief that started prickling through.

"Love you too, both of you." Steve smiled.

"You both already know how much I love you" Bucky announced. "All I ever want is for you guys to be happy, whatever that may look like."

You nodded in response to his statement. There was an understanding that he was giving the two of your his blessing to date without embarrassing Steve, especially because he's had no recent updates and you've never admitted to Bucky that you were also painfully in love with the idiot. But Bucky knew, of course he knew, he was far too smart and level headed to be fooled by either of you.

"Will you give me the updates on you and Natasha?" You asked him, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

"Oop! Gotta go!" Bucky let go of you and started booking it down the hallway. "See you later!"

You and Steve laughed at his dramatics. But now that it was just the two of you, you finally let your shoulders slump and your real emotions poke through.

"You're terrified." Steve sympathetically noted.

"Not even of the job. How sad is that?" You questioned. "I'm also just... still tired. Being back at the compound is challenging."

"I can only imagine." He understood what you were trying to tell him. Though things were getting better, healing takes time. Steve could still see that part of you that just wanted to go lay down and avoid the world trying to fight through the brightness in your eyes. "But you don't have to be alone this time, and you're a tough cookie."

"An overwhelmed cookie, but a tough overwhelmed cookie." You agreed.

"I'm really proud of you." Steve emphasized. "Your success is a hard journey under perfect circumstances, yet you've made it look easy while facing a lot of adversity. It's no wonder to me why you're always exhausted, but I'm confident that once all the tension within the agents dies down, you'll find that a spot on the team means you'll have a lot more time to relax."

You let his words sink in and validate all of the hardship you sometimes felt crazy for. "Thanks for helping me get here. I don't know if I could've done it without you."

"It was all you" Steve denied your statement. "It always has been."

"I know you think that, but I don't, so thank you anyway."

"What can I do to help you feel less overwhelmed?" Steve asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I think I need to call my Mom."

"You should definitely call your Mom" Steve agreed with a giggle. "I actually have a few things for you, do you want to hang out at my place for a little bit? We can just chill out for a while, you can call your parents, I'll fill you in on some things?"

"Yes please" You agreed, enthusiastically nodding your head. His apartment was down the hallway, and yours was across the building. Knowing you could just relax on his couch while he convincingly told you all the reasons why you didn't need to be so scared sounded like heaven to you.

Steve grinned at your willingness to continue spending time with him. "Come on, let's go."

You walked along side him down the hall to his apartment, then happily plopped onto his couch.

"Stay right there, I have surprises!" Steve pointed at you as you settled into the very corner, tucking your feet underneath you and pulling his blanket over your lap. It was still pretty cold despite the shining sun.

"Surprises? Why do you have surprises?" You asked loudly so he could hear you as he disappeared into his bedroom.

"Because you love surprises!" Steve called out in response.

You could hear his closet door open then shut again. "Only when I know what they are!"

"Then it's not a surprise." He challenged as he walked back into the living room, a small box and a garment bag you recognized.

All uniforms in the compound came in that same garment bag, it was made of a heavy cotton twill. Always grey, always with an Avengers 'A' embossed on the back, a sleek black zipper down the front.

"Let's start with the obvious" Steve said, handing you the garment bag by the hanger.

Thinking you knew exactly what it was, you unzipped the front expecting your old suit to be remade exactly how it was before it was destroyed. Instead, upon taking it out you noticed it had been changed.

It didn't look like all of the other agent uniforms, instead this one was all jet black like Natasha's. Black hardware, black industrial fabric, your last name stitched into a label that fit right along your  collarbone. It reminded you of how Steve's suit had a small little 'Rogers' tag on it.

But unlike Natasha's suit, yours had a more pronounced chest plate that almost looked like a bodice. You could tell from the feel of the material it was made out of that it was bulletproof. The whole garment, down to all of its details had you speechless.

It was beautiful, sleek, tight, functional, and dare you say... sexy?

Then you saw it, on the shoulders where you usually dawned a shield logo, there was an Avengers logo.

The loss for words remained as you looked back up at Steve who was anticipating your reaction. "How-"

"The team has a new tradition. We all come together to design the suit of the members, and this is what we came up with for you." Steve explained. "You needed a new suit anyway, we all knew in our gut that you belonged with us, hence why it's already made and in your hands."

"Did you do this?" You questioned, still a little stunned by how much you loved it.

"All of us did." Steve told you. "Well, I got the ball rolling and Natasha called most of the big shots considering, you know, she's a woman and she'd be better at making those choices anyway... but yeah. I know how important family is to you so I made sure your family name was on there, oh, and all your pockets. I remembered that you loved the pockets on your last suit so I advocated for those to stay. But of course if you don't like it we can revise-"

"It's beautiful" You cut him off with a shake of your head, genuine smile on your face. "I love it, thank you."

"Oh and look at this!" Steve enthused, sitting next to you on the couch. He took off the front panel of your suit and showed you the inside. "Luca has been a big part of your journey and obviously a big supporter of the Avengers, so we stitched a little L right over where your heart is so he can have a small part in the team and go on missions with you."

"Stop it right now." You pouted your lip as you looked at the L embroidered into the lining. "That's so cute, it's going to make me cry. He's going to be so happy."

"I'm glad you like it" Steve grinned.

You shook your head. "I love it, it's so thoughtful."

Then Steve handed you a small box that was perfectly wrapped in brown paper with a blush pink satin ribbon tied in a bow nicely wrapped around it. "This is also for you." This time, he seemed a bit shyer.

"A present? Why a present?" You questioned sweetly, unable to understand why he got you something.

"Because you deserve your accomplishments to be celebrated!" Steve enthused.

You smiled at his statement as you untied the bow and unwrapped the paper. Underneath the wrapping was a pair of airpod max headphones, the exact color you'd been contemplating getting yourself for months but never did because you knew how expensive they were.

There was also an immediate recognition your mind was quickly drawn to about how modern these were to your timeless best friend. He's gifted you music before in the form of vinyl records, a cocktail in a live jazz bar, you two even saw a concert together once. But these? They were picked out with you and only you in mind.

They were a sign that he actually listened to your silly complaint about the headphones one time in passing, and maybe even a way of telling you he actually did care that one time he claimed he didn't out of anger.

Though you loved them, and they were the nicest most thoughtful gift you could've ever been given, you were flooded with immediate guilt.

"Steven" You shook your head.

His smiles stretched wider at your reaction because he knew this was exactly what it was going to be. Even as he pressed the checkout button on his laptop to buy them for you, he could hear every argument you would use about how you couldn't accept them, but he did it anyways.

He raised his eyebrow at you. "Aren't they so pretty?!"

"They're beautiful, the exact pair I've been wanting for a long time." You nodded before trying to shove the box right back into his hands. "They're going to look great on your hard head."

Steve laughed as he pushed it back to you. "No, they're yours. If you open the box you'll see they're engraved with a 306 which means they're non refundable and custom made for you, leaving you no choice but to accept and enjoy them."

"You bitch." You deadpanned, not completely believing him until you ripped off the plastic cover and opened the box to see for yourself. And boom, there it was, an engraving just for you. "You bitch! Why? That's too much, twinkles, you didn't have to do that."

"Of course I didn't have to, but I really wanted to." Steve explained. "You've been existing with one airpod in since you-know-who ruined your headphones and I know how important music is to you. You deserve to hear music in both of your ears while also drowning out the compound nois-."

Steve was cut off by you practically leaping over the couch cushion and falling into his arms. A little oof sound escaped his lips as he wasn't prepared even in the slightest for the amount of force your body had against his, but his arms were quick to wrap around you regardless.

"Thank you so so much." You shoved your face into his neck, and your arms squeezed him tighter than ever before. "I love them and I love you."

"You're very welcome, and I love you too" Steve was more than happy to squeeze you tightly in return. "I'm so happy you're an avenger! It'll be fun getting to go on missions with you"

"I don't know if fun is the right word" You giggled while letting him go.

"You're right, there's no such thing as a fun mission, let me rephrase that." He agreed. "Missions will be so much more bearable if we can do them together."

"It's going to be so weird." You settled back into the corner of the couch and Steve sat right next to you. Tossing half the blanket over his lap wasn't even a second thought to you. "Me? Fighting alongside Iron Man and Captain America? Black widow? I think I'm experiencing imposter syndrome"

"You are more than capable" Steve reminded you.

Under the blanket, you threw your legs over his lap, and he took that as permission to move even closer to you. You two cuddled last night, so certainly there was no harm in snuggling on the couch, right?

Steve felt like a pathetic teenager once more when he realized how desperately he craved your touch, even if it was as innocent as tangled legs and touching arms on the couch. He searched for it everywhere, and soaked up every opportunity he could to just exist alongside you, and whenever he got it he felt so warm and fuzzy inside.

"Will you tell me all about being an Avenger?" You asked sweetly.

"Anything you want." Steve happily agreed as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and settled in.

The two of you talked for hours on end all about the complexities of your jobs, but somewhere along the way it strayed far from the original topic and morphed into trivial matters such as the differences between an iced latte and an iced coffee, even down to which bodega nearby had the best sandwiches. But you claimed neither of your opinions mattered to each other anyways because you were more of a bacon egg and cheese kind've girl while Steve would always choose something far less breakfast-y and more classic sandwich-y.

It was a great conversation nonetheless, you'd always take any opportunity you could get to pick Steve's brain apart. Eventually, maintenance came to swing by and finally fix his heater, you called your mom and dad, and it was quickly approaching the time you needed to get to the winery.

Steve got ready, dressed in perfectly fitted jeans, a nice button down, his favorite leather jacket before walking you to your apartment so you could get ready too. There was no question that walking through the hallways and main spaces of the compound felt thick with tension. Whenever you walked by, agents heads would turn and they'd watch you pass as if you had committed an unthinkable crime, or maybe like you were some sort of A-list celebrity setting out into a sea of journalists watching and noting your every move.

He was proud of how you handled it like nothing was happening, but he still couldn't help the feeling of an undeniable shiver down his spine when he thought about how different this would turn out for you had he not been walking by your side.

Steve also didn't miss your sigh of relief when your apartment door closed and locked when you guys made it inside. The silence felt domestic and comfortable as Steve plopped down on the couch while you ran off to touch up your hair and makeup from this morning and change into a more formal yet still kind've casual and warm outfit for the outdoor occasion.

He felt so happy and relaxed as he listened to your music playing from a room away, but all of his chill left his body when he heard the clicking of your heels against the hardwood flooring. Not soon enough to gain his composure, you came out of your room with a huff.

"Is this outfit appropriate for the occasion?" You asked him, feeling unhappy you didn't have more time to plan for this, and reluctant in your ability to pull something together.

Steve had to work hard to keep his mind from going blank as he looked at your outfit. A pretty black sweater dress with a turtleneck and a brown leather jacket that he swore went missing from his closet a few months ago over it, some sheer black tights, and heeled boots. You looked painfully pretty, effortlessly casual yet elegant and pulled together.

"Is this the part where I'm allowed to start telling you how beautiful I think you are?" Steve asked, unable to think of anything but that.

"Permission granted, at this point in my life I need all the confidence I can get." You nodded, feeling nervous about the upcoming event.

"You look so pretty" Steve gushed like a secret he's held in for too long. "You are so pretty."

"The outfit, Twinkles" You giggled, "what about the outfit?"

"The outfit is perfect, but are you going to be cold?" He asked.

"Of course I'm going to be cold, but that's a problem for me later." You nodded.

"And your feet are going to hurt."

"A sacrifice I'm willing to make"

"You're so brave." Steve placed a hand over his heart. "Cool jacket, where's it from?"

"It's vintage" You smiled, he squinted his eyes at you.

"I don't know if I'm more upset that you said that, or that it looks better on you. Either way, I'm wounded."

"Oh please, everything you wear looks good on you. Plus, we match!" You shook your head with a smile. "If it's not already obvious, I also think you're very handsome."

"No, you can't say that to me because my knees will go weak and I'm not going to be able to get off the couch." Steve shook his head, earning your laugh.

"For such a strong man you let me have so much power." You stuck your hands out for him to take. "Come on, I'll help you and your weak knees off the couch."

You did manage to peel him off the cushions and get him out of the door, and he almost successfully safely ushered you through the whole building and to the parking garage, but unfortunately, he couldn't control the words coming out of people's mouths.

Especially when those words came from pure jealous rage. He also couldn't help how they probably hurt more when they tore you from such a good mood.

He finally managed to pull some real laughter out of you for the first time in what felt like months. The sound of your belly laugh filled his soul with so much joy as he threatened to take his jacket back after you kept poking his shoulders and pretending like it wasn't you. He fell for it the first couple of times, but you were nonchalant... until your giggles erupted when he looked behind him.

Thats how you two ended up fighting off each others arms while walking through a corridor. You fought relentlessly to keep the jacket while Steve protected his shoulders from your passionate pokes.

Both of you were so distracted by each other you didn't even notice that you weren't the only two people in the corridor, so when Steve managed to tangle your fingers with his and hold your arm above your head to stop the vicious attack, it felt like two deers in headlights when one of Harvey's friends appeared in front of you.

Immediately Steve let go of your hand, your arm was pulled back down and crossed over your chest. Your smile fell even faster.

"Well well well, if it isn't proof that you fucked your way onto the Avengers" He barked out a condescending laugh.

Steve was taken aback. He knew they were all brave enough to do this to you, but this behavior in front of him was even more bold than he thought any of these agents were capable of.

He looked between you and the agent, fully waiting for your attack on him and fully supporting your decision to do so, but instead you had completely sunken in. You didn't have a response, no remark, no reaction. You just looked sad.

"Moved on from sucking off the brainwashed fuck-wad to Rogers real quick huh?" He questioned, taking one small step towards you.

Immediately Steve put his body between the two of you. "That's enough. Repo-"

"What did she do, Cap? Huh? Did you get the winter soldier treatment as well? Was it really that good she got to move up in ranks?" He questioned, trying to make himself bigger to see your smaller frame over Steve's broad shoulders. "If it's that good maybe I should try her out myself considering she makes it so easy."

"This is your last chance to walk away before your record is damaged." Steve warned, taking a deep breath to contain his hands instinctively balling up into a tight fist.

"Harvey told me she was nice and tight when he got her but he definitely loosened her up for you. Hope you appreciate that next time she wants a new job."

Your heart slowly cracked in your chest and a lump formed in your throat over the words being spoken about you. All you wanted was to be like your old self, so willing to take on this fight that he would've never had the chance to speak another word. But now, you couldn't even bother. It felt like you had no choice but to roll over and show your belly because you were still so beat down and tired.

But you're an avenger now, you should be able to deal with this. You should be able to do anything but this.

Suddenly the walls were spinning, and your broken heart was pounding as if it had never been more put together, the floor might as well have been made of broken glass.

Just as you were about to be swallowed whole by your racing thoughts, your attention was pulled right back.

"You can do much better than that half ass ran through nymph-"

Those were the final words that came though clearly before you watched Steve lose composure. The agent swiftly walked forward trying to get around Steve to get to you. In a moment of pure rage, and in honor of all those times you were sent to Steve's office, he provided a hard kick straight to the agents dick.

Hard enough for the agent to immediately scream in pain, fall to the floor and cry. Rolled in a pathetic ball, he clutched his precious jewels, you didn't know if his pain made you want to smile or cry.

He deserved it.

"It's funny, when we started this conversation you were a little less... swollen." Steve sassed, no ounce of remorse in his tone. "I hope you appreciate me every time the nurse has to replace your ice pack."

Steve was talking, but you doubted the agent heard a single word he said over the sound of the blood that rushed to his ears and his own whaling.

Confident that there was no chance of being able to stand back up without assistance, Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number before placing it to his hear and turning around to comfort you.

You looked to be in a state of shock as he pulled you into a one armed hug. Trying to take deep breaths became a lot easier when the air started to smell like Steve's cologne.

Someone on the other line must've picked up, Steve spoke briefly and got to the point. "I made a mess in the sector A corridor, could you clean it up for me? I'm uh, accompanying precious cargo, I'd rather you be late then leave her side. Thanks, Nat."

Just like that, the agent would be taken care of, his phone slipped back into his pocket, and his precious cargo could get the full of his attention again.

His other arm wrapped around you before you could get your arms up to gently hug him back. "Thank you" You whispered.

"I'm so sorry" Steve shook his head. "That was so awful, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, I just- need to breathe I think." You spoke, definitely having an anxiety attack.

"What can I do?" Steve asked, stepping back to look at your face.

You still looked shocked and a little dazed, but you seemed relatively okay.

"Nothing." You denied. "That was... more than anyone has ever done."

"Do you want to just take some time to let that settle or should we cancel?"

"No" You shook your head, firm on your answer. "It's okay, it's a long drive there. By the time we get there it'll all be okay. I'm okay."

Steve's face softened, his body language followed quickly after. "It's okay to not be okay. That was a lot." His hand was gently rubbing the top of your arm up and down.

"He was so mean to Bucky." You sighed, trying not to let tears pool into your waterline. "Do you think people have been treating Bucky like this too? Because of me? He doesn't deserve that"

"You don't deserve this either, Buggy." Steve reminded you, nearly falling apart over the way you always thought of everyone else's feelings before your own. "Nobody is mean to Bucky to his face, people are too scared to do that."

"What if he finds out what he said?" Your big eyes looked right into Steve's. They were soft and twinkling with empathy just for you, and that brought you more comfort then he would ever realize.

"If Bucky found out what he said, he would be in a lot worse of a state than he's in right now because he would be livid that anyone was saying that about you. I'm livid too, but you're my focus."

You nodded fully understanding Steve's words, while looking over to see the Agent laying on the floor still crying, still shouting. "I did what you would do, I think it makes a pretty bold statement that this behavior cannot be tolerated anymore. No exceptions, I have to put my foot down. You don't deserve to live like this anymore."

"Thank you, Stevie."

"Natasha is going to take care of the rest, okay? He's getting fired. He'll never come back here."

"I'll get worse now, I think more of them are going to try to get me, maybe even you now." You explained.

"Then they'll all get fired and removed from the property as well" Steve challenged. "We need agents who will make the world better, these ones are very obviously not qualified for the job.  And quite frankly, I'm tired of tip toeing around the issue to make them comfortable. All of them deserve to be just as uncomfortable, if not more uncomfortable than you are. I will personally make sure none of them lay a finger on you ever again."

"That's a lot of paperwork for you."

"I'll do it all, I don't care." He reassured you. "I should've done this sooner, I regret every single time I ever let these pricks pass by without proper reprimand."

"It's okay, Steve."

"No it's not." He disagreed. "Are you positive you still want to go?"

Despite the hidden sadness behind your that came back after working so hard to get it back, Steve saw your bravery right before his very twinkly eyes. "I'm positive. I think getting away from here is the best choice I can make."

Steve sympathetically grinned. "Luckily you have a lot of people who love you and want to celebrate you tonight. Hopefully some of that love helps to cancel out what just happened."

You nodded in agreement and grinned back at him as he offered you his arm to walk you the rest of the way, hopefully being closer to him would bring you a better sense of comfort.

Instead of taking it, you hooked your arm around his like intended, but slid your hand down to hold his just like you'd still be doing had it not been ruined for you.

He looked down at your interconnected fingers with a bitter sweet pinch in his brow. "What if someone sees?"

You shrugged. "No matter what I do or say, people are going to be mad. I might as well let them be mad, and let myself be happy."

"This makes you happy?" Steve questioned genuinely, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"You've always made me happy, I've just never been brave enough to let myself enjoy it." You admitted. "But now I'm too tired to even fight with myself anymore. I have to surrender or else I'll never get to enjoy what I have while I have it."

"I'm so proud of you" Steve said sincerely. "You're a lot braver than I am because this makes me feel like I'm going to throw up."

Then, your real giggle came back and the tears that once threatened you never fell. "Are you sure you even like me? It seems like nausea is the emotion I instill in you the most these days"

Your arms swung gently between the two of you as you continued your journey to Steve's car. "The throw up is exactly how I know I like you. Nobody else makes me feel like I don't have control over the contents of my stomach whenever they look at me."

"If anybody else said that to me, I think I would be offended."

"But I said it, so you know it's a good thing."

"Has anybody ever told you that you're a true romantic?" You questioned rhetorically.

Steve giggled. "Never in my life."

"Hmm, I wonder why."

Next Part: Star crossed lover

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[softlysuga]

satan's sweetheart [ch. 1]

You’re a demon. One day, you’re summoned into a living room, and an exhausted woman quickly rambles about needing to get to work and being unable to find a sitter before flying out the door. Now, you stand in your summoning circle, a toddler staring wide eyed at you.

pairing: taehyung x female demon!reader genre: fluff, crack, smut (but in the other chapters) rating: pg-13 wc: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of the underworld, death (like the Reaper), pagan activities? i mean the woman literally summons a demon LOL

note: prompt is by @writing-prompt-s! i thought it was actually fcking hilarious and half the time i was writing i was like wtf is this LOL also thank you to @jtrbluv for beta reading! my d1 tumblr moot ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗

-> let me know if you want me to make a taglist for this fic or any other fics :)

There’s a tugging sensation at your stomach, and your lips curl into a smile. 

A summoning. Finally. 

Relaxing, you let the sorcery of the summoning whisk you away from your dwelling and hear the familiar pop in your ears as you enter the human realm. Dust setting, you open your eyes, hoping to feast your eyes on your next meal. 

“Who dares to summon—” you boom in your demonic form, clouds of smoke entering the room and a glow of evil cloaking your figure. Of course, it’s all theatrics.  

But…

“I’m so sorry, I tried calling for a babysitter but no one was free,” a frazzled-looking woman interrupts, “and I know, you’re probably like, well, can’t you ask family—”

The woman scrambles to find her keys and belongings, slowly lugging her bag to a door. You stand a few feet away in the middle of a summoning star adorned with a few candles and eerie-looking symbols. There’s an offering of fruits and leftover Halloween candy, along with an edition of the Grand Grimoire. 

“—and I did! I asked Taehyung to come over, that brat, always shirking from his responsibilities, but he said he’s in the middle of a basketball game? Can you believe him? I had asked him to a month ago, and he still managed to forget! Ugh, younger brothers. Anyway, it’s not like I can ask my parents because they’re dead.” 

Surprised, you cut the theatrics and unwind into your natural form. “I mean, Old Reaper spares no one,” you chuckle, shooing away the clouds and lightning. “He’s kind of a nasty fellow, that one. Always so grumpy.”  

The woman freezes, one hand in the midst of putting on a shoe. She turns around, stunned. “You changed.” 

You frown. “Did you expect me to stay in that form forever? It’s actually quite energy-draining— I much prefer this one.” You look down at yourself, confirming that you’re in the correct form. “I mean, I can turn myself into a cat if you would like. Or an elephant, if you’re really feeling up for it. I would be quite loud, though.” 

You’re not quite sure what humans do or do not know. Usually, summonings are quick and short, usually ending with you feasting on the souls of the summoners or the immediate banishing. But this isn’t the usual summoning; there are no teenage kids screaming for their mothers, nor men wrapped in capes who think they’ve found their calling. 

A clatter draws your attention away from the woman and you find a toddler tucked away in a high chair. The child couldn’t have been more than two years old, teething on a strawberry with the remnants of its breakfast laid out in front of her. An oatmeal-covered spoon is on the ground next to the chair. 

Stepping out from the pentagram, you wave your hand and the spoon flies off the ground and lands on the high chair. The child gurgles in delight, grabbing the spoon and throwing it off yet again. 

“This child seems to lack intelligence,” you observe, spinning back to the woman. “Why would it throw the spoon back down? I thought you humans liked using them.” 

The woman unfreezes with a start and continues putting on her shoes. “W-well, you know how toddlers are, always doing something you don’t want them to.” She adjusts herself before putting a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back in a few hours, it will be a very quick grocery trip. I just need some…peace.” 

I raise an eyebrow. “You want me to look after your offspring?” 

“Just for a bit. I’ll be back in a jiffy, alright?” She opens the door and steps out. “There’s food in the fridge for her, diapers are in the drawer under her crib. Just keep her unharmed and alive.” 

And just like that, she’s gone and you’re left with a human baby with a distaste for spoons. You look at the child again in curiosity. Tight, chestnut curls are tied up in two pigtails and her chubby cheeks are stained with strawberry juice. You gently pull at a curl, watching it bounce back into place after you release. 

The child notices this and places your finger into her mouth, gently gnawing on it while cautiously measuring your response. 

“Silly child,” you reprimand gently, pulling your finger back. “That’s not food; if you eat my hand, you’ll get dysentery.”

You snap your fingers and conjure a little black binky for her to gnaw on instead. “Here.” You stuff the binky into the child’s mouth and after a bit of confusion, the toddler starts chewing on it contentedly. 

A smirk crosses your face. “How curious. I wonder what else I could do to you…” 

You sense the presence of another soul before you hear the jingling of keys. They’re inserted into the door, and it opens with a swing. 

“Addie? I’m here— sorry about the wait, the game ran a little long…”

You observe the new figure, a man, clumsily take off his shoes and shove them in the shoe rack. He stumbles towards the living room, dropping a bag off by the couch. 

“Addie?” 

“Are you looking for the child?” you murmur. The man freezes. 

“She’s in her jail,” you continue, floating down from your perch on the ceiling. “I suppose you would call it a crib. The child seemed to grow tired of our games, so I put her to sleep. Temporarily of course— I’m not the reaper.” 

Softly landing on the carpet, you stare at the man’s shocked features, seemingly frozen in time. You tilt your head in confusion. “Well, don’t be too worried. She’ll wake up whenever she feels the need to. I just…coerced her into a nap. It’s not like I can do much else.” 

You extend a hand. “You must be Taehyung. The tired woman mentioned you.” 

Taehyung glanced down at your hand and slowly reached for it. Shaking it, he gulps, “Wh-what? Who?” 

He points from your perch on the ceiling to you. “What?” 

“Oh, that,” you wave towards your previous spot. “I’m just more comfortable that way. It’s usually how I lounge in Erebus but I thought it would make you too uncomfortable to see me like that.”

“Erebus?” He whispers. “Is that like…the underworld?” 

You shrug. “Yes and no. It’s more like another dimension, really,” you say, inspecting his face. “You seem to be sweating. I forgot how temperamental humans are.” 

You chuckle. “It's a little hot in here for you, isn’t it? I tend to run a little warm and the heat might be radiating into the room.”

A bead of sweat drips off Taehyung’s temples and he swipes at it, unfreezing himself. “Oh, I-I guess? I mean, now that you mention it, it’s a little warm.” He shakily looks you up and down. “What are you even? A demon? Oh my God there’s a fucking demon in Adeline’s house…” 

“Ah, so Lily is the child,” you muse. “So Addie— or Adeline, I suppose— must be the mother.” Swooping past Taehyung, you ignore his noises of disbelief. Landing on the kitchen counter, you pour him a glass of water. “She’s in her jail, like I said.”

You beckon a chair to follow you, instructing it to sweep Taehyung into it. He’s pale as a sheet, scrambling onto the chair as he lands in front of you. You hand him the water. “Sip.” 

He obeys, gulping down the water. After he finishes, you take the glass back while he looks at you warily. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re not from this world, are you?” 

“No, I’m not. Adeline summoned me to become her babysitter around an hour ago, and she simply left me with her offspring,” you snort. “You humans always do the funniest things.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“I mean, hey, good for her for summoning a blank demon— class III nonetheless! Very baby-safe, I can assure you.” 

Taehyung’s brows furrow. “Addie…summoned you?” 

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You chuckle. “At first I was as confused as you are right now, but she quite literally said ‘care for my baby, demon! I will be back’ and left,” you air-quote with your hands. “Said something about being unable to find a babysitter, and I was curious enough about the little one to stay for a while.” 

“So you’re not…stuck here?” 

“Well, no,” you roll your eyes. “I can leave whenever I want. Just how you can leave and enter a door,” you gesture towards the hall, “I can leave and enter this dimension. The summoning just thrusts me here against my will. I can go back whenever I want.” 

“Oh.” 

There’s a bit of a silence as Taehyung collects his thoughts. You listen to the buzz of the refrigerator and the quiet ‘tick-tocks’ of the grandfather clock down the hall; you’re surprised how soothing the monotonous noises are. Maybe the humans are onto something. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, he seemed to relax a little. He fiddles with his hoodie string, gnawing at the end. “Wait so, you won’t hurt us? You said something about being baby-safe.” 

You chuckle. “Yes, I’m very baby-safe. I’m a blank, class III demon. Blank— as in I haven’t developed into a specialty yet— and class III— meaning I’m equipped with the bare minimum of demonic powers.” You shrug. “So yeah, I can do things like make you fly or summon existing objects, but not much else. I’m more of a spirit, really. At least for now.” 

“Huh.” 

Suddenly, you sense a shift in the air and you glance over to the baby monitor on the fridge. Taehyung follows your gaze and jumps up. “Oh, Lily’s awake!” 

He looks over at you, albeit a little warily, and slowly starts walking towards Lily’s room. “Don’t move,” he instructs, pointing a finger at you. “Or else.” 

You put your hands up. “Alright,” you giggle. “How scary!”

Ironic. 

Taehyung glares at you and disappears into the hall. He comes back a few minutes later carrying little Lily in his arm, one hand wiping the drool off of her face. Her eyes light up when she sees you. 

“Puff!” she squeals, reaching for you with two hands. Taehyung holds her back, confused. She’s squirming in his arms, trying to peel away. She whines in annoyance.

You smile. “Yes, child. Puff.” 

A wave of your hand conjures little soot sprites out of the air, the dust bunnies blinking in surprise. The jingle of their movements delight Lily, making her clap as they float down towards her. They scatter around her as she makes attempts to snatch them with her chubby hands. Taehyung keeps her just shy of doing so, though, and it frustrates her. 

“What are they?” he asks, concerned. “Are they your pets or something?”

“They’re soot sprites,” you say softly, waving your hand again and they disappear. Perhaps you should’ve warned Taehyung. “They’re quite harmless, really. Usually residing in abandoned country homes, they’re magical creatures made of soot. They don’t do much but work and exist.” 

Lily wails in dismay as the creatures disappear. You smile apologetically. “I was using them to entertain the child before you got here,” you explain, “which is how she’s so familiar with them. It got her a little dirty, but she seemed to like them enough.” 

“Huh. Cool, I guess.” 

You look over at Taehyung, a little surprised at his reaction. It seems like he’s opening up to some of your antics, which makes you smile a little. 

“Do you mind if I conjure them again?” you ask. “For…Lily.” 

You’re trying to get used to calling the child by her name. 

He nods and places the child on the couch, where you bring the little sprites back. Lily’s eyes widen and she instinctively reaches for them as they float around, surprised once again. 

You and Taehyung both watch her in a comfortable silence, but you can still hear Taehyung’s wheels turning. 

“You know, you can just ask,” you start. 

“Hm?” 

You shrug. “I dunno. It’s not like you see a demon every day, let alone have a demon babysit your niece.” 

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m just trying to process it a little, but I’m just glad you aren’t sent here to hurt us.” 

“It’s not like I could if I wanted to, anyway,” you add. “It’s kind of a development-slash-hierarchy thing. Kind of like your version of puberty? Long story.” 

Taehyung’s lips quirk up. “What do you mean?” 

Before you can answer, though, you hear a jingling of keys and the woman from before swings the door open, shuffling her bags in. She looks around, eyes landing on you and Taehyung. 

“Tae!” she exclaims while shutting the door. She turns back to face you two, walking towards the living room. “And…the demon…-ess? Demoness?” 

“Demon is fine,” you affirm. 

She smiles warily and turns her attention to Taehyung and slaps him on the shoulder. 

“Ow,” he winces, “what was that for?” 

“That,” she starts, swatting away the sprites and picking up her child, “is for neglecting your babysitting duties which ultimately led me to summon a demon.” 

She glances at you. “No offense.” 

“None taken.” 

“But you summoned her yourself!” he splutters in defense. “Freedom of choice and everything—” 

“Don’t even start,” she interrupts, glaring daggers. 

You whistle. “This woman is scarier than me, Taehyung. I would watch out if I were you.” You glance at Adeline. “No offense.” 

She winces. “None taken.” 

“Well, it looks like my services here aren’t needed anymore,” you clap your hands and the soot sprites disappear. Lily frowns. “Not that it was something I expected, but it was kind of fun.” 

Adeline turns to you and smiles softly. “Thank you for everything— I know it was a bit of an inconvenience, but I’m very glad that it turned out how it did. Please come back anytime you want.” 

You laugh. “I’m not sure if I’ll take you up on your offer— I have a lot of training to do back in Erebus— but thank you anyway. Your offspring, Lily, was quite enjoyable.” 

You wave to little Lily— who waves back— and you start walking towards the door for a more “natural” approach to leaving. 

“Wait, hold on.”

You turn around and Taehyung catches up to you. “Are you never coming back?” 

You shrug. “Unless there’s another summoning or if I have a personal reason to. Summonings are tricky, though, it’s a gamble on which demon you’ll get. It runs on an internal lottery system for all demons, so I wouldn’t bet on your chances.” 

He deflates. “Ah.” 

“Maybe you’ll see me, maybe you won’t.” You smile. “It was nice knowing you, though. I’ve learned more about humans today than I ever had at the academy.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows in confusion, but before he has a chance to say anything, you’ve snapped your fingers and disappeared. 

Like before, you let the winds whisk you back to Erebus and you enter with a pop, feet landing on the soft carpet of your room. Glancing at the window, you notice the blood moon starting to rise and your roommate stirs in her sleep. 

Interesting, you think, shaking your head as your horns grow back. You touch them to make sure they’ve come out properly and your wings also make an appearance, the dainty gossamer erupting from your back as you stretch. 

A sigh of relief leaves you as you settle into your own bed, thinking back at what happened. You’ll surely have to go to the Dean tomorrow to explain your absence, but it shouldn’t be something you’re punished for. These summonings are growing more common so quite a few students have been missing this week—  but it’s not something the administration is worried about…yet. 

You roll over to your side, remembering the look on the woman’s face. She was calm for a human— too calm maybe— when she summoned you. Grumbling in confusion, you think. Maybe they’re getting too comfortable with contacting the demonic dimension. 

But you fondly remember how Taehyung’s reaction was much more standard, and you chuckle recalling his sheer fright at the concept of Erebus.

He almost reminded you of a puppy. 

“How cute,” you murmur. 

Yawning, you make a mental note to go to the mortal realm more often. It could do you some good. 

Eyes heavy, you close them and everything goes black.  

[zxoaii]

Between Us

fem! reader x (aged up) Yuji Itadori / Sukuna

Summary: When Sukuna makes a move for Yuji, they both find themselves fighting for control of the situation.

WC: 1.1k

Note: Hi everyone! I don’t usually post JJK fanfiction here but I just started a new wattpad account so I’m trying to get some traction. If you enjoy this short chapter please consider checking out my preferences/oneshots book on wattpad! Characters include all popular JJK men.

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"Do you know what I had to do to drag this brat up here?"I couldn't looked more shocked. Sukuna. The four eye, the markings, the assurance.

He leans against my doorframe and takes me in. "You really are beautiful." I could look more shocked. "I'm sorry?" Sukuna takes two steps forward into my apartment.

"This is ok, right?" His rhetorical tone is permanent when asking for anything. Because who would be stupid enough to say no to him?

"Did you know he's been keeping me away from you?" Is he talking about Yuji? "You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." Right.

"I do know how to be a gentleman."

"Is that so?"

We both stare at each other for a moment. I'm sure this is when he'll kill me. "It is." Sukuna takes a seat on my couch.

He gives an annoyed sigh, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." Yuji was keeping Sukuna away from me specifically? He can't possibly mean he has... Romantic feelings for me.

Is he even capable of loving?

"Y/n, I am so sorry. I would never just let myself in like this." Yuji stands up from the couch. Did they just switch? In that moment?

"Stop being a pussy." He slaps his hand over his cheek. It's so much to take in I almost feel frozen. "You are a very beautiful woman and I'd love to take you out for dinner sometime, just maybe not tonight. I need to work some things out."

I shouldn't feel so flattered. They share a body and a mind. It's probably only natural if Yuji fell for me... Sukuna would too.

Right?

I follow Yuji to the door as he lets himself out. "I'm so sorry. Goodnight." He takes not one step out the door before locking up for a moment.

"See? He just can't do it." Sukuna lets himself back into my apartment. "I can." He shuts the door, leaving his hand next to my head. My back presses up against the door.

"Are you scared?"

There's no point in lying, the only real feeling I can distinguish right now is fear. I nod my head slightly. "That's fine." He pulls away to give me space.

My heart races in my chest. Why does this feel so exhilarating?

"What are you doing here?" My voice doesn't tremble like it did the last time I spoke. "That's a little delayed." Despite his space I haven't moved off the door.

"You can't actually be saying to me that you have... What, a crush?" I laugh at saying it aloud. "That's not possible."

"You're right. This is a need."

Oh god, my hand grips the door handle to support myself. "Are you going to run?" Sukuna leans against my counter. "No." Anyone with half a mind and a will to live would run.

"That damn brat..." I watch as the markings fade before me. Yuji has a softness in his gaze Sukuna could never fake.

"Are you ok?" He rushes to my side, grabbing my waist to help me stand. "I can stand I was just feeling a little..." What? Turned on?

"I wanted to make it romantic when I told you. I didn't want this asshole cornering you because it turns him on." I place my hand on his chest. Between the two of them I might need Sukuna to come back.

Is that cruel?

"Are you ok?" Yuji asks again. "I like you too Yuji-" "Really?" He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. "Really? Would you want to go on a date?" Is he serious?

"Yes, but-"

Yuji cups my face and presses a kiss onto my lips. Finally. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. If anyone else suddenly started burning up while we were making out I'd be worried.

The kiss gets rougher. I don't need to open my eyes to know Sukuna is kissing me. And I like it. I must have a death wish.

I have to pull away for a moment to catch my breath. Sukuna takes the opportunity to move down to other places. My head falls away from his, giving him better access to my neck.

His hands slide down to my hips. I really need these two to figure something out. Yuji pulls away from me, brushing his hair out of his face breathlessly.

"What do you want?"

An impossible question. I like Yuji. He's the person I fell for. I shouldn't want anything to do with Sukuna but that moment... I've never been kissed like that.

"I just need a minute to catch my breath." I say as I walk into the kitchen to give myself something to do. Yuji trails behind me slowly.

"I don't want him to mess this up."

"I don't think he wants to either."

The room is silent as I fill a glass with water. I turn the faucet off and immediately start gulping everything inside down.

Yuji grabs the glass from my hand when I finish and leaves it on the counter.

He's less assertive and bold with his movements but when his hand grabs my waist it kills me to not have my body against his.

When our lips finally meet again I notice the hunger behind each movement. He's letting himself have it. Each touch is lingering. His lips are more demanding.

I make my way blindly to the couch, holding him against me the entire way there. I pull away for only a second as my heel hits fabric to lay down.

The glazed look in his eyes remains for a moment before he's switched back to Sukuna. I expect him to say something but it never comes. Instead he leans over me and picks up where we left off.

His hands are more curious. They follow the curves of my body, exploring areas Yuji wouldn't go near. Sukuna kisses me with so much power and lust. I can feel my lips are swollen already.

"Are we going to make out all night?" I whisper against his lips. "No. Just for a few more minutes." He trails some kisses down my neck then attends to my lips again.

It seems like as soon as we start he's pulling away. Instead of going any further, Sukuna fixes his hair and makes his way towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

The grin on his face is all too telling that I gave him exactly what he wanted. A confession that I want him too.

"I find it's so much better when you play the long game with these things."

I watch from the couch as he leaves my apartment. A tease? Did I just get teased by a special grade? Was I really stupid enough to give in? Am I stupid enough to desperately wait for the next time?

Maybe I am.

[noxturnalmoth]

°~Death becomes Us~°

Chapter 3: Study buddies

warnings: suggestive jokes, kay why ess jokes, overall meme-ism, college shit, scara x f!reader

Coming out of class I rush to get to my motorcycle, bidding a quick farewell to Shinobu, Wriothesley, Cyno and Heizou. Leaving them confused at my rushing figure as Heizou chuckles and waves me off.

A short ride afterwards I find myself at a japanese restaurant and get my order: a serving of chazuke for Scaramouche aswell as a couple of delicious, meat and noodle filled takisoba pan for myself and a platter of tempura to share. I also deicded to get barley tea and matcha ice cream for him as he seemed more inclined towards bitterness, and mitarashi dango aswell as an asahi beer for me.

Looking at the time I rush back on your motorcycle. Parking it and running to the other side of the campus towards the old building, now decrepit and left alone.

"You're late." I hear a soft but biting voice mumble from next to me and I turn around to see Sacamouche sitting at a bench, his arms holding his head up on the table.

"Well I got us food and traffic sucked so deal with it asshole." I say huffing and plopping myself on the seat in front of him, the table separating us and now being adorned by the food i was softly locating from the takeout bag to the surface. "I got us a tempura platter cuz it looked good!" I say happily, rubbing my hands to warm them from the biting late november air. "And then you complain that you're broke." He scoffs and I roll my eyes, handing him his chazuke. "Asked for it with umeboshi since you like bitter stuff." I mumble as I take out the chopsticks.

After that we eat mostly in silence, a somewhat awkward but still comfortable silence that I cut by handing him one of my bluetooth earphones. His face sours for a bit before he sighs and takes the earbud, placing it in his ear as i place mine in. "Got any preference?" I hum the question as i look through my spotify. He stares at me, bordering on a glare. "Continue to stare at me like that and I might catch on flames." I snort sotfly as I play something random and put my phone in my pocket.

"Why?" I turn to him as he asks the question, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Why help me when you hate my mother this much, are you dimwitted or something? We've been twiddling our thumbs for the past hour, if you detest my presence that much don't be a bitch and just leave." "Nah. I just give you a chance to prove me you ain't her. Don't take this as a sign that I like you either, but Heizou does and he mentionned you hating her too...so I decided to give you a chance, you deserve as much." I finish my plate and stuff it in the takeout bag, taking his empty bowl aswell. "Plus I do like what you do in the band and you needed help for your classes so why not? I'm not gonna let your grades drop just because I'm bitter to your mom."

"Just bitter?" He asks, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Well, I'm saying this because 'if I had an opportunity to make her eat the pavement repeatedly, I'd take it' is not exactly the nicest way to put it." I smirk and scatch my head. "And about the silence...well let's just say I'm not a people's person, it's weird and hard for me to open up and be all friendly. I ain't Heizou." He groans knowingly, reminded of all the times Heizou was more than friendly to many of those around them. "You tell me, he's the definition of a manwhore." His voice strained in disgust as he says it. I laugh softly and silence settles once more, less awkward than before, now quelled by the music playing softly in the earphones we share as we eat our desserts.

"I can come over if you need help with the notes." Is heard softly through the music as I fish through my bag for my pack of cigarettes, taking two with my lighter, handing one to Scaramouche. He takes it, almost hesitantly and leans in when i beckon him over, lighting both our cigarettes with the same flame. "I'm not fucking stupid, I think I can handle notes." He bites, venom nipping at my ears as I look at his glaring eyes. "I know, there's just stuff that is easier to explain than read I guess. But if you wanna tackle this on your own you can, I'm not imposing or anything, so don't get your panties in a twist. Don't shoot the messenger and all that." I lean back on the table, taking a drag as i look to the setting sun. "Plus it's getting late, need to know if I'm going back or if I'm coming over."

He sighs sharply and gets up taking his bag and walking away. "What the fuck are you waiting for, are you that stupid that I have to tell you what to do?" I roll my eyes at this, taking my own bag and throwing our trash in the nearby bin, following along as he takes me to his place. Which, once there was way cleaner than what I expected a college boy dorm to look like. "Shoes off." "Aye aye captain." I hum as i now stand in socks, walking behind Scaramouche and following him to his room. There I open my bag to find my own notes as he opens his, looking for the ones I gave him. "Well? You wanted to help me so fucking do it." He mumbles as he starts copying my notes.

"I'll be sure to teach you politeness too another time." I smile deviously when he glares at me, his hands tensing and his face hardening. "But you're right, today's course was an intro to profiling.."

And so for the next couple of hours, as he wrote down the notes, I explained to him the intricacies of the course, putting emphasis on what the teacher has explained was particularily important. Scaramouche, although bitter and snarky, was concentrated and hanging on to my every words. Drinking in the advice and knowledge. And soon enough, he was done, putting the notes away to give to Xiao later and mumbling as he walked me to the door, putting his coat back on.

"You're coming with?" I question, tapping my foot to make sure the shoe was put on well. He scoffs at that, drawling out a sarcasting answer. "Well the trash can't toss itself out now can it?" He smirks. "And Heizou would kick my ass for not doing so. You're lucky he's the one who told me to talk to you or I'd have kicked you out as soon as I got the notes." I snort at this, my breath showing in the cold as we walk through the barely lit and very empty campus. "How so very gracious of you lord Scaramouche." I bow slightly and he smirks back, talking about how it's good that I know my place. And after the short walk I tell him I'll be fine to walk on my own as we were close enough anyways, about half way.

"Suit yourself. Don't get murdered, Heizou would have my head." "Sure, whatever Scaracooch. Get back safely!" I wave him off, smiling softly in the cold night as I turn around, making my way back home.

<prev. || m.list || next>

After a hard youth of commiting crimes and going to juvi to have a place to live, you finally decide to take your future in your own hands and make it into something you can be proud of. College is the beginning of your path to a new life, and it would be going great...if the son of the head of the local police wasn't hanging out with your friends.

Taglist: @kodzusmiles @vi0let-writes @eternallykira-143

[cirusthecitrus]

People of the Galactic Horde (the OGs)

Since I'm working on a Horde Prime origin story, it was inevitable that one day I would have to come up with designs for his species aka the original spacebats. And well, it was a fun challenge!

(click/tap to have a better look!) My first attempt at drawing other bats was with the High Priests of the Four Temples - the most influential and powerful people on the planet, also known as Anillis'/Prime's teachers :)

See that last guy? That's the emperor of the original Galactic Horde! Though after his unexpected early death his wife had to become the new Prime. Gladly, Horde World was not left without a future heir to the throne^^

Fun thing is, I never planned on making designs for Anillis' parents, since they never appear in the actual story + even the twins don't remember what they looked like. But idc making fanparents is fun! (In my vision Horde Prime inherited the death stare from his mother and the sly misleading smile from his father >:} )

(I talk more about the characters and worldbuliding in my fic "Violent Youth". U can find the link in my pinned post)

I also had to design tons, and I mean tons of episodic characters of all ages, genders and backgrounds. Now after all this training I'm ready to fill the backgrounds with bats :3

Some general notes on the people of the Horde under the cut

Every spacebat is born with a white face. Any deviations were rare and considered a type of skin condition

Facial markings slowly appear once baby bats hit puberty. When spacebats' white faces were seen as blank canvases, the facial markings were their life journey drawn on said canvases. The markings were seen as the real window to the soul. Having no marks as an adult was simply outlandish, people of Krytis even had a belief that such bats "had nothing behind their soul" and thus could not be trustworthy

Facial markings (as well as ears) came in many forms. In ancient times one could tell in which of the four original provinces a person was born by simply looking at their faces. Nowadays it became nearly impossible to guess someone's homeland this way (mostly everyone are people of mixed descent), but to those curious this is how bats used to distinguish one another by their markings:

North - straight lines across/all over the face (e.g. the emperor)

South - wavy lines across/all over the face e.g. (the High Priestess of the Southern temple)

West - straight minimalistic lines (e.g. horde clones)

East - wavy minimalistic lines (e.g. the empress)

Hair never held much cultural significance on Krytis, so the styling was only a question of one's personal preference and fashion trends. Some bats (mainly from the south) saw no point in having hair whatsoever - those would choose to go bald or shave parts of the head to better show off their markings

Everyone had one set of eyes. Only local deities were sometimes depicted having 3 and more eyes. And yes, their eyes and teeth do glow in the dark

I wanted to make colorful bats to futher emphasise their whimsical and peaceful nature :) Well, if u think about it many poisonous creatures are colorful too...

I wouldn't be myself if I didn't say anything about local fashion. I don't have my own concepts at hand sadly, just references, but my main inspiration for the fashion of Krytis are late 90s-early 00s futurism and cyber aesthetic. Here and there u will also see smth similar to mall goth or streetwear style, but it's mostly something what young blood were into

Some bats like the royal family and council members would wear more classy and regal clothes but still more or less modern looking. Such choice of attire was espeically important to the empress, who, unlike her late husband, stayed far away from religion and magic and made it the main goal of her campaign to weaken the influence of the religious community and push for scientific and socio-cultural progress

If you have any questions about the people of the Horde/Krytis, feel free to ask! I'm always happy to talk more about this AU!

[skeletboi]

Part 13 of the Intridimensional AU!

First /// Previous /// Next

____________________________________________

Ford woke with a start when he heard a clatter down the hall followed by a loud swear. He sighed and stretched, trying to work the kink out of his neck. Fiddleford was sure to give him hell about sleeping in his study again, but he had a lot to catch up on after the impromptu two day road trip, and couldn't afford to sleep now. He stood from his chair and adjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath to steel himself for whatever mess Stanley had just made.

He made his way down the hall, heading for the kitchen, when he heard Fiddleford's laugh from the parlor.

“You coulda told me it was spring loaded! Sixer is going to kick my ass out so fast!” He heard Stanley say.

Ford frowned and made his way to the parlor, where he found Fiddleford kneeling in front of Stan with a small toolbox at his side.

Fiddleford looked up at the motion in the doorway and smiled brilliantly at Ford.

“Mornin’ Stanford. Did ya actually get some sleep for once?” He asked.

“Some.” Ford said. “What are you two doing?”

“Making out, obviously.” Stan said quickly before Fiddleford could answer.

Fiddleford turned bright red and shot up.

“No! We sure as heck weren't doin’ that! I was jus’ fixin’ ta tryin’ out the new robit leg!” He said, waving his hands frantically.

Ford raised an eyebrow as he looked from Fiddleford's red face to Stan's smug smile.

“Right. How is that working out?” He asked, stepping further into the room to get a better look at Stan's leg.

“It's fucking great!” Stan said. “Although Fidds here didn't warn me about the spring loaded knife holder he put it in, so I owe you a new lamp. Put it on my tab.”

“Fidds?” Ford asked, frowning.

“Your ‘assistant’ here. Ya know, Fidds!” Stan said, smiling mischievously.

“You used to call me that all the time in college, Ford. You still call me that ‘cassionally. It don't bother me if Stan calls me that, too.” Fiddleford said, leaning down to pack up some of his tools.

“I am aware of that, yes. I just find it… interesting that Stan is calling you that.” Ford said, doing his best not to pout and surely failing.

“I got myself a long name, seems only natural. Anyways,I'm ‘bout done here and was gonna make some breakfast. You wanna join?” Fiddleford asked as he packed the last of his tools.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Ford responded, glancing away.

“Work-schmerk. Eat somethin’ will ya? I haven’t seen you consume more than a protein pill and coffee since you dragged my sorry ass out of that motel.” Stan said.

“‘Least have some toast, Stanford. I did plenty of work while you were gone. I know ya like yer schedule, but it ain't no rush- it's not like we got a real deadline.” Fiddleford added.

“Keeping to the schedule is paramount!” Ford replied.

“For who? Do you have a boss you're not telling me about?” Fiddleford asked jokingly.

“No!” Ford responded too quickly, making Stan and Fiddleford jump. “No, I don't have a ‘boss’. I just would prefer to maintain our original timeline.”

Stan stared at Ford, wondering what would cause such a guilty reaction and coming up empty.

“Well I'll meet ya in the lab with some toast in a bit then, but I ain't starvin’ myself to death for yer silly schedule.” Fiddleford said in a way that suggested this was a normal argument between them.

“Fair enough. You know where to find me.” Ford said, turning on his heel and making his way to the lab.

Fiddleford sighed as he stood then turned to Stanley, holding out a hand to help him up.

“That leg is gonna take some real gettin’ used to, so don't rush it.” He said as Stan took his offered hand and managed to get off the couch without falling.

“This definitely feels weird already.” Stan responded, taking a wobbly step forward.

“How's the pain? I know that magic goop healed it up real well, but is it hurtin’ at all?” Fiddleford asked, taking Stan's other hand to lead him another step forward.

“It's not hurting. All I feel is pressure, like my leg is asleep instead of gone.” Stan replied, taking another step and nearly falling.

Fiddleford caught him before he could take them both down and laughed.

“Didn’t I jus’ tell ya to take it slow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm not real good at that, though.”

“So impatience runs in the family, too? I ain't too shocked by that.” Fiddleford laughed.

“It didn't used to. Ford used to be way more patient than me.” Stan thought aloud.

“That don’ surprise me much, either. When I met him he was a lot more patient, ‘cept when it came to his work, but he has been actin’ a bit odd as of late. Did he ever sleep walk as a kid?”

“Sleepwalk? No. He was on the top bunk in our room, so I definitely would have noticed.”

“Int'restin’. He didn’ used ta sleep walk in college either and we shared a be- I mean I also wouda noticed. Anyways, he’s been sleep walkin’ a lot recently, but he avoids the question if I ever ask him ‘bout it.”

Stan frowned as he took another step, wondering what could cause sleepwalking in an adult. Stress, maybe? Ford did seem a bit on edge, but Stan had assumed that was because he had found his twin brother missing a leg in a shitty motel room. There was definitely something more going on here, but he had no idea what it was.

“Why you?” Stan asked, looking up at Fiddleford.

Fiddleford frowned in question.

“I mean, he's out here lookin’ for monsters or aliens or something, right? Why does he need a mechanic?” Stan clarified.

“Ah, right. Well he's workin’ on this project that was a bit more complicated mechanically than what he’s use ta doin’.” Fiddleford explained, sounding suddenly nervous.

“That is a very vague answer, Fidds.” Stan deadpanned.

“I- I don’ quite know howta ‘splain it. I don’ even know how he done came up with the idea… I-I-” Fiddleford stuttered.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, Fidds. Didn't mean to stress you out, I was just making conversation. We can talk about something else.”

Fiddleford nodded, a nervous smile on his face that just made Stan more curious.

“Well then, Ford mentioned you left your wife and child behind in California to work for him, that seems a bit more than casual!” Stan said with a shit-eating grin.

Fiddleford neary tripped backwards.

“Well! I- No! I love my son, I'm goin’ back! I jus’ gotta help Stanford here a bit longer, I reckon!” Fiddleford said quickly.

“Right, right. Interesting that you mentioned your son, but not your wife.” Stan said, his smile widening.

“Stanley! I will let you fall! ‘Course I love my wife! I jus’... well I didn't expect Stanford to ever reach out ta me after college, I ‘spose.” Fiddleford responded, his voice fading as he talked.

“That's a pretty intense pickle you got yourself in, isn't it?” Stan asked.

“It ain't no pickle. Stanford has always cared about his work more than anythin’. I've known that since the first week I met ‘im. He'll do this project a his either way, and we'll go our separate ways. He'll forget ‘bout me ‘ventually.”

“But you won't forget about him?” Stan asked, and didn't miss the way Fiddleford flinched at that.

“Well yeah, I ‘spose I'll hafta forget him, too.” He responded quietly, his gaze distant.

Stan frowned, unsure how to respond after that sudden change in demeanor.

“Well, I think your wife could forget about you, too. So there's that.” Stan said after a moment.

Fiddleford made a face and dropped his hands from Stan's, causing Stan to wobble and nearly fall over. Stan huffed but took the hint. He wouldn't be getting through to these nerds easily, but at least it was entertaining.

“Less talkin’, more focusin’ on your steps.” Fiddleford said, taking Stan's hands back in his own to steady him.

“Sorry, mom. I'm focusing.” Stan mumbled.

Fiddleford huffed out a laugh and continued to lead Stan forward. It was getting easier with each step, but Fidds was right- this would take some serious getting used to.

____________________________________________

Well, life is a distopian nightmare, but these boys are keeping me sane. (for now)

Stan is a menace, and I love that for him.

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, mark

postage. lee mark & gn! reader, mentions of death in the context of greek mythos cost to ship. 712 words

growing up, i never understood the tragedy of orpheus and eurydice. how, upon achieving the opportunity to bring back his beloved, orpheus squandered it all with a single look. it frustrated me, that after all that effort--every song he had written and preformed, compositions which moved all, even gods-- he abandoned all success with a single glimpse backwards. a second of a stare that only captured the whisper of eurydice's figure before she was dragged back to the depths of the underworld. i never understood why he looked back, why he had to fail when he was so close to the edge of triumph.

though i suppose that after meeting you, if i took the place of poor orpheus and you, my eurydice, i'm afraid that i would also lose you for a second time. that i would risk everything i had worked towards, everything that i had done just to see your face in that fraction of a second. to look at you, no matter the consequences. no matter what what i had sacrificed to get to you, no matter if i too would be punished for this singular stare. i would do so, even so close to escape, so close to having you in my arms again without a moment of hesitation. i, not only as orpheus but as mark--your mark--would do anything to spare even the slightest of glances in your direction. even if they would only forfeit half of a second of being captured in the reflection of your eyes and nothing more. for that half of a second, that split sliver in time, would be worth more to me than any hours of gazing upon anything else.

i find us to be more likened to paris and helen of troy. a story i've always understood, at any and all basic fundamentals of its core, though doubted. for how could anyone be so beautiful that others would begin wars over them? that their beauty would be more fair, more compelling than that of the gods? that men would be reduced to nothing more than spurned infatuation, fighting battles--killing-- for any brief moment spent within helen's gaze.

i wasn't sure that any such person could exist. but with you, i find myself to be playing the part of poor paris--destined, perhaps, to starting wars over the mere thought of you.

about mark's love letters.

mark's handwriting is rough and scribbled. oftentimes jotted down with whatever pen he has lying around, series of swirls and scratches at the top margins of the page where he attempts to get the ink to flow. his words, in a stark difference to the somewhat chaotic state of his slanted, all-caps writing, are carefully chosen. hand-picked with the utmost care, the upmost emphasis to ensure the quickening of your heartbeat. though short, his letters are poetic and always very true to himself. you can almost picture the look on his face when he writes them, a fantasy that does nothing but conjure heat into the full of your cheeks.

he first writes these down in his notes app of all places. thumbs frantically typing with every out of the blue strike of inspiration (something that happens rather often, both for songs and for you, though mark could argue that these two things are nearly synonymous). and when he does get the time (something he seems to be always running out of) he transfers these pretty proses to the whitened canvas of card stock. a firm choice, made to last. each one of his letters are signed with less-than-perfect stars and a drawing of whichever thing has recently caught of your fancy (usually him).

mark often sends them in the mail to you but prefers to give his letters to you in person. something he often finds himself regretting when you choose to read them outloud, burying his face in his hands as he begs you to stop. you don't and mark often finds himself begrudgingly thinking that you're much too like haechan for your own good (or his). it's not all bad though, not when the reward for withstanding such utter humiliation on his part is all of your affection. and mark would take anything in the world if it met just receiving one shred of your heart.

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @chriscentric @trourevaille @firstdonutllamafarm @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡

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