#I CANNOT PUT NAMES AND FACES TO THE VOICES JUST YET. NEED TO HEAR FULL SONGS AND SEE MORE. BUT... THE GAME HAS STARTED

[lyneira]

♡ *doki doki* ♡

-> things that would make their heart beat a little bit faster

Seeing you smile

Itto, Diluc, Childe, Venti, Thoma

He absolutely loves seeing your face brighten up with a genuine smile. It has him subconsciously mirroring you, his face also turning aglow (even if it's in the most subtle way for someone like Diluc) And especially when you're smiling at him, that love grows tenfold and his own smile grows deeper. He can't help but be full of adoration for you upon seeing that lovely expression. More so when that beautiful smile forms into a laugh, oh his heart is soaring.

That's why he often makes it a point to make you smile whenever he sees you. Whether it's doing something kind for you, telling you a joke, or surprising you with a gift, he's going to find any possible way to make you smile. Your smile is just so precious to him as he knows how fleeting happy moments like these can be, despite how much he wishes they'd last forever.

So he will protect it with all his might, and God forbid someone ever makes that smile turn upside down.

Feeling your touch

Xiao, Tighnari, Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Gorou

Your touch soothes them, assures them, warms them. You needn't even give them a big hug. The moment they feel your skin on theirs, even if it's barely a ghost of a touch, they're folding. After all, I honestly don't these guys would be used to skinship even though it's what they'd secretly crave for the most.

He nearly holds his breath as he feels your fingertips gently caress his skin because if he were to let go, he'd be all over you. Each time you touched him, he'd desire more of that warmth. He wanted more of you. You, who would put his mind at rest and feeling your touch reassures them of that. You make him feel safe

Staring deeply into your eyes

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Kaeya, Cyno, Kaveh

There's an unspoken trust and connection when you two gaze into each other’s eyes that there is no need for words to let them know that you love them.

Your eyes say words that your lips cannot express to its full extent, and most of all, your eyes can never lie. That's why when you look into his eyes with so much love, he knows that it's true and it makes him feel warm. He's so happy that there's no denying you love him as much as he loves you.

Hearing your voice

Ayato, Heizou, Kazuha, Albedo, Baizhu

I feel like these people wouldn't like hearing a lot of noise, but on the contrary, I would think that they didn't mind listening to you.

Your voice is such a distinguishable part of you which makes it his favorite. There's no one else who has that same exact tone of voice, the same exact intonation you use, the same laugh that you have, and all of the other sounds you'd make. They love it so much because it could only belong to you. And when his name would come out of your mouth so sweetly? He'd swoon a bit each time.

Any sound from you meant it was a sound from his favorite person in all of Teyvat. So if he wasn't looking and didn't know you were coming to see him, the moment you call out his name, he'd immediately know it was you and he'd smile. His beloved was here.

a/n: this prompt is heavily inspired by one of the click and drag games I made a while ago on @deescade (hehe, shameless plug per usual). I haven't created a genshin one yet, but I currently have a twisted wonderland one and obey me one if y'all are interested!

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[blu3-tea]

Gift - G/t - Part 2

Part 1: click here

TW: Pet trope, swearing.

Premise: A world in which genetically engineered tinies or Littlins are viewed as pets. Ellen is gifted one on her grandpas' birthday party, as she had graduated the week before.

Word count: 1,505

Note: more parts are coming!

………………………………

Ellen sulked her way back to the dining room, million of thoughts swirling inside her mind.

She cannot keep a littlin pet person. She was not ready to face the daunting anxiety of living with such a fragile tiny person. How could she move around the apartment without the horrifying thought of crushing the girl under her slipper? Sooner or later, Ellen would get employed. How could she type away at work whilst the girl stayed stuck at some table’s surface unable to get off on her own in the case of an emergency? She made a mental note to search for any solutions online to that problem.

“So, how is it?”

Ellen almost dropped the halfway-filled glass she was staring at blankly. “What? What did you say?”

“Oh, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” Her mom teased “I asked how your new pet is. Isn’t she just adorable?”

“Ah, yes. Sure, she is.”

“Did you give her a name already? I have some suggestions. Penny or Daisy. They fit her just right, don’t you think?”

“They sure do…” she twirled nonchalantly the glass, forming a little whirlpool in the middle. She hoped that the girl was doing alright.

“Don’t fret about it too hard.” - she got up - “give me a hand with the dishes will you?”

“Of course.”

They gathered all the plates and cutlery, and began loading the dishwasher together. From the kitchen she could hear the tv playing and abrupt commentary. Ellen should have probably given something to the littlin to pass the time. As she tried to figure out what kind of entertainment someone her size would enjoy, her mom’s rambling about some miniature multiple-story houses she had seen on social media distracted her.

“They have working lights and running water!”

“Mhm.”

Ellen realised that she would need another solution to the expenses involved. She had seen in person the three digit numbers on the price tags of miniature items. Yet, she could not bring herself to keep the hamster cage- it just looks so uncomfortable.

“The moment I saw her I knew that she would be the best choice for you. She’s the perfect tiny model to dress up.” She let out a chuckle.

A voice in her head told her that she did not necessarily have to keep the girl. She could just look after her until she found another pet store or person who would be willing and capable of keeping her. This could be a temporary thing.

“Aunt Jessica!” A shrill voice cried from behind, making both women to whip around alarmed.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“My truck is in your car. I forgot it there. Can you open it? Right now? Please!”

“Yes, of course. Give me a moment.” Jessica rubbed her hands dry. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Play with Mouse. Duh.”

“What mouse?” Ellen’s voice trembled slightly.

“Your pet.”

His answer hit Ellen in the gut like a ton of bricks. Fearing the worst, she bolted out of the kitchen.

Please, please, please be safe.

She rapidly climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, her heart pounding like drums in her chest.

They better not have dropped her.

Ellen practically flew inside the spare bedroom, to her horror left open.

“Put her down. Now.” Ellen growled.

………………………………

Nelly picked and tossed around the spruce shavings that covered her cage’s floor, high enough to collide with the overhead metal. Eventually, a noticeable lump of shavings concentrated somewhere in the middle of the compartment, a testament to her ever life-draining boredom.

“This is going to kill me…” she groaned.

Usually she would have slept through it, but the eagerness of securing her near future let her wide awake. Earning the giantess’ favour was earning a roof over her head and a full belly. Not only that, she would also be earning some well deserved alone free time, which the pet store had robbed her of. As of now, she was still working.

Nelly rested her head against the cage’s wall, facing upwards. She listened intently to the noises of chairs grating and shoes clacking on the floor downstairs.

Oh, if only she was not the size of a mouse she would be on her way to buy real food, visit the park or some other place, and make real friends. She has been a friend to several human children who were not and could never be her friends; people do not keep their friends in cages after all.

Nelly hugged her bent leg closer to herself. That is how things are for every littlin, none of them can ask for anything more than the basics just like her. Yet, in the stillness of the room, she longed for something so frustratingly beyond her reach- literally.

THUD THUD THUD

Footsteps interrupted her train of thought.

Finally! Let’s get this over with.

Supporting herself on the mesh, she got up, straightened her shoulders, pulled curly locks of her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. She looked as perfect as she could for her owner.

The colossal door creaked open at a snail’s pace. Two short figures stood at the threshold. Two children about the age of 10.

A look of hurt and disappointment crossed her face. All of her hopes of having a quiet few years, were shattered. The possibility of being given away to relatives had not even crossed her mind.

She was not prepared to be prodded and grabbed and pinched by their chubby fingers again. She could already feel ghosts of their digits push against her chest and tug her legs.

The children’s eyes widened in excitement and they approached, already bubbling about her.

“It’s so small! Just like a mouse.”

“It’s shorter than my dolls.”

“It could fit in my truck!” With that the boy run off.

Dread filled her as she knew exactly what he was planning to do. Nelly has had the unpleasant, nausea-inducing experience of riding on top of toy cars before.

I can’t go through this again.

With no hesitation the other one opened the overhead latch and reached a hand to grab Nelly. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She darted sideways, heart pounding, eyes wide, desperately trying to slip out of reach.

Greasy fingers as long as her body, encased her in a firm grip, way too firm. The world around her swirled, as she was lifted upwards fast, way too fast, close to her captor’s face, way too close.

The human girl’s mischievous face took up her whole vision. She frantically squirmed with all her might, despite the pain in her left leg, to slip and hide away from that familiar expression she knew led to excruciating ‘play time’.

Another hand approached Nelly’s hair. She jerked her head away from the advancing digits.

“Put her down. Now.” The deep guttural sound that the giant released sent shivers down Nelly’s spine.

The digits withdrew immediately. Her world spun again, as her captor turned around, clutching her close to her chest.

“But I’m not doing anything.”

“Natalie, put her back.”

“I don’t understand. Aren’t you supposed to play with it? Mom said that I could.”

“Well, she’s mine. Isn’t she?” That dried up Nelly’s mouth. Every human, no matter how nervous at first, was the same at the end of the day. “If you want to play with her you have to ask me first.”

“Ok.” Natalie nodded “Can I play with it? Please?”

“No, you cannot.”

“But I said please!” Nelly squeaked as the fingers around her tightened.

“Not today Nat.” Ellen sprawled her palm in front of Natalie “Give her back.”

“Fine.” Natalie spat out and hesitantly dropped her in Ellen’s soft palm. She fell uncomfortably face down and she took in a sharp breath. Another palm draped over her, covering her completely from view.

The “platform” bounced slightly up and down with each step, turning the insides of her stomach around, as if it were a washing machine.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen. I’m really sorry.” The giantess said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re going home now, ok? I’ll leave you in my car and I’ll be back with my things right after, yeah? I promise I’ll be super quick. Sorry.”

What the hell is going on.

Nelly curled around herself, her body trembling with confusion and frustration. The hands around her seemed to close in, their radiating warmth suffocating her. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, and a sob escaped her lips. She thought she could lie and manipulate to turn things in her favour for once. Hopelessness, just like the very first time, gripped its claws in her chest.

………………………………

Thank you for reading!

Tags list: @i-am-beckyu , @whumpinthepot , @heroofthe13thday

Part 3: click here

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 04 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing

Previous Poll:

~~~

“What did you have in mind?”

“Orchard’s a bit of a wreck this time of year,” AJ says, glancing out the window at the apple trees lining the hills and hanging heavy with fruit. Not too far off, Big Mac’s standing on a ladder situated under a tree; she can see Apple Bloom yelling up at him from below, barrels full of apples at her feet. She says something with that adorable, sometimes annoying little smug spark in her eye, and Big Mac shakes his head with a laugh before tossing an apple down to her. She lunges for it with her hands clasped behind her back, letting it smack her right in the face as she tries to grab it with the few front teeth she hasn’t lost to the tooth fairy yet.

Yeah. Definitely somewhere else. AJ loves her family more than anything, but—Rarity deserves to go somewhere nice. Across the house and through the open front door, she can hear Granny belting out an old song about pigs in mud—

“I’m thinkin’ we go out. You know the restaurant in town? Haven’t been in a while, and I heard there’s a new menu. How’s Saturday?”

“That sounds simply divine, darling, and I would love to…but I can’t commit to this weekend,” Rarity says regretfully, and AJ nearly drops her phone, “I’m in Manehattan the rest of the week for my new line. It is critical that I’m here to make the finishing touches. Fancy Pants is personally endorsing the reveal and there cannot be a single mishap, not one.”

“Oh—“

“Please don’t think I’m avoiding you, darling. Perhaps we can schedule something for the same time next week?”

“No!” AJ begins rather forcefully, and she clears her throat so she won’t say something else before thinking, “I meant…no big deal. How about I come to you instead? I’m sure I can find somewhere good for you—for…us.” 

There’s a short pause before Rarity responds. 

“Applejack, are you sure, darling? Of course I’d love to have you here…but only if it wouldn’t be too much for you. If you aren’t busy with your duties on the farm, as well. I know that the big city isn’t exactly your cup of…cider.”

“Nothin’s too much for me when it comes to you, sugar.” 

AJ’s heart flutters when she hears the soft, breathy laughter of her crush over the phone.

“If you insist,” Rarity says, the smile evident in her voice, “There are a few places I could call. I’m friends with practically everyone here, you know.” 

AJ shakes her head. “You just rest up and let me do the work. I’ll get everything together.” 

This isn’t up for debate—she’s dead set on being a gentlewoman. If this is going to be a real date then she’ll make sure it’s a damn good one. Which includes making sure that Rarity can just enjoy the evening and not have to worry about anything.

Rarity lets out a sweet laugh, which pitches high at the end, a little too strained. 

“Oh, no, there will be no resting for me. After I finish this job, I need to come up with something spectacular to wear for our date. Now that we’re going out on the town, I need something divine—something fabulous…” she trails off before continuing, “But I’ll be ready. Just let me know. Oh! When will you arrive, dear? I’m not sure I can make it to the train station to greet you…I’ll be so busy…but you know where the boutique is.”

“I’ll find you. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Not to worry, darling. I doubt I could ever work nearly as hard as you do.”

AJ rubs the back of her neck, her face hot. “Psshaw, I’m not sure about that…”

The toe of her boot scuffs the wooden floor and she stares down at it, grinning like an idiot in the silence.

“Well…shall I see you Saturday, then?” Rarity posits. 

“Yeah, Saturday.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll see you then,” Rarity says softly.

“Bye Rarity.” She sounds almost shy when she says her name.

There’s a click and then the call is over. AJ swears her heart skips a beat as she stares down at her phone. This is actually happening.

It still feels like a dream, and she hopes to never wake up.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She could run a marathon with all the energy tingling up her spine.

But—

It already looks like she’s been running at full speed—she’s drenched in sweat. Well…no surprise there.

“Ugh…I should shower,” she murmurs upon noticing the stains under her arms.

~~~~

AJ thought she’d have trouble sleeping, but after finishing her chores with a spring in her step, she knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, however, anxiety crawled its way into her chest. 

She couldn’t stop daydreaming at breakfast, racking her brain for a restaurant in Manehattan. There were so many other things she had to do before that, too. 

AJ didn’t really consider what it’d mean to have a date in Manehattan—she was just so sold on the fact that their date couldn’t wait. 

She has some nice clothes in her closet - but do they fit a fancy restaurant in the big city? 

Does she even know how to behave so she doesn’t embarrass herself and Rarity during the date? Sure, she’s polite, but she’s not versed on the social mores of Mane—

Granny snapping her fingers and hollering her name pulled AJ from her thoughts, only to find all three family members staring at her curiously.

“Sorry, Granny…what was it you said?”

“Well, it’s been s’darn long since I asked ya, I can’t remember nuthin’ I said!” 

AJ didn’t tell anyone yet. For one, she wanted to pull it through on her own. But she also didn’t want anyone to gossip beforehand and cause her embarrassment. She got enough inquiring questions about her relationship status, especially from Applebloom.

After breakfast, she got to work on the chores around the farm.

Anyways, now that she could think again…

Would she need a present for Rarity? 

Was there anything else she needed to prepare?

What if none of the restaurants she’d thought of end up being a good fit for Rarity?

AJ’s mind spins and spins and now she lays in the shade of an apple tree, staring up at the sky.

Well, she’ll admit it—she’s lost and has no clue where to start.

Yeah, she’ll definitely need some help…

She could ask one of her friends. She’s close enough to any of them, especially Rainbow—but Rainbow can’t keep a secret to save her life, and she’d probably just tell her to “Be awesome, duh” and that Rarity likes AJ enough that she doesn’t need to be fancy. Which…is a great sentiment, but would it help in the long run? Mm…she’s not so sure. AJ feels like it wouldn’t stay a secret for long if she told any of her friends. Would she even mind? They’re all helpful in their own ways. 

Then again…she could also ask her family for support. She hopes they would keep news of her date a secret. Oof…some of those conversations might be a bit more embarrassing, now that she thinks about it...but Granny’s lived and loved, and Big Mac always gives sage advice. Applebloom is her biggest cheerleader when it comes to anything at all.

 

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark

[didoldacc]

penchant ● choi beomgyu

nsfw content, minors please do not interact!

warnings: manipulative themes and mental health problems, heavy emphasis on beomgyu's beauty, religious references(only used to describe beomgyu's beauty, reader doesn't have an established religion so don't worry), hurt/comfort, reader is also an idol, misogynistic themes, no one in the story is "good" but the villain is reader's group member, toxic relationships, mentions of su1c1d3 cheating, first lovers to exes to lovers, hurt comfort, breaking in, topic of drug addiction, possesive yandereish!beomgyu, soft and hard dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, marking, pet names, oral (both receiving), fingering, praise kink, dacryphilia, size kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation, dumbification, drowning kink, manhandling, multiple rounds, overstimulation, body worship(not just body worship tbh, reader worships beomgyu basically), choking, hair pulling, objectification, beomgyu takes advantage of reader's low point but great aftercare(finally a good thing), a really dumb solution for the conflict this is my very first full-length fic so i don't know how will this go, let me know if there is anything else i should add to warnings that i have missed. also don't forget to read the disclaimers at the end of the story.

qurbone ta hazole ta: "give up(my life for)/sacrifice(myself to) you, to beautiful you."

"they say when god created joseph, he wasted more than half of all humanity's beauty on him. yet here you are. even all of it wouldn't create another you."

an intense pain you feel on your chest. it really sucks that you have no one you trust to talk about what you are going through. but even if you did, you are not sure if you have the courage to tell the truth. so you just find a corner where you can silently cry. a place that no one knows except for him. you don't let yourself cry out even though it is exactly what you need so you just sit there in fetal position and put your head on your knees while tears just keeps shedding.

suddenly you hear footsteps coming towards the room you are in. you just wish it wasn't him. you don't want to face anyone, especially him. you don't have the courage to face him. you did nothing wrong to him yet he is the only person that you don't want them to find out. you feel guilty all over again and even though your mind wants to stop your tears shed even more and your sobs become audible.

and your fear comes true. you hear beomgyu's voice. you cannot comprehend what he is saying but it is not hard to assume why he is here. obviously he had to make a phone call. you try to wipe down your tears before he walks into room and check yourself if you look like you have been crying. and unfortunately for you definitely do. as soon as your hand goes to your purse to find something to clean your ruined make up, you hear the door opening.

he sees you and paniced expression covers his face. your ruined eye make up, your sclera turned red, your puffed face, your messy hair. it is impossible for anyone to not pity you in your state so it is not hard to imagine how pitiful you ex would be in this position.

he immediately hangs up his phone. from what you were able to heard, you assumed that the person on the phone with him was his new girlfriend. your lips move slightly upwards to the idea of him hanging up on his girlfriend for you yet you know better than thinking it meant something, of course he was going to hang up when he saw someone crying.

you pull yourself back when he starts to walk towards you. you don't know what to say or how to act. it is all awkward. one does not show their crying face to their ex boyfriends. you feel your heart racing, you can even hear it. and you find your back hitting the wall when he stops walking towards you.

surprisingly he doesn't say anything. he just comes closer and hugs you. his hands reach your hair and starts slowly patting your hair. while his grip on you thightens. you hear him humming a lullaby he knows you love to your ears. tears fall again from your eyes and sobs follow leaving your mouth. even his smell makes you feel safe. at home. you stay like that for almost an hour when he finally speaks. "so are you going to tell me what has been bothering you or you just want to stay like this?" you want to say yes but you decline his offer. you kept hearing his notification sound the whole time he was trying to calm you down. you know you should create new boundaries with him and also you don't want his act of the countenance ruin his new relationship. you just thank him and leave thinking he would let go.

the minute you leave the room, your phone's notification sound keeps ringing. messages you see yet don't open keep covering the upper side of your screen. you know it's from a certain member of your group. she spams your ktalk to say the same thing over and over again. at first you felt guilty and offered to help her deal with her problems. problems that you technically created. thoughts racing your mind. should you tell someone? your manager? your leader? the ceo? beomgyu?

yet you decide not to even though you know if they hear the story they would side with you or once you show them everything she texted.

you find yourself in front of your parents' house. you didn't even realize you were heading there when you wandered around. guess your consciousness chose here since seeing her would not be a great choice for you right now. luckily your parents were away for the next couple of days. you are not sure if them seeing you like this was a good idea.

you start a warm bath for yourself. maybe this could calm you down. dealing with her has become your full time job. heck even full time jobs had breaks, you didn't have that beautiful privilege.

as soon as your body connects with the bathtub, you hear someone opening the door. a fear -that soon fades when you see beomgyu- covers your whole body.

"beomgyu what are you doing here? how did you get in?" he doesn't bother to answer to your question. just stands there and stares at you. you were able to remain nonchalant yet you felt the urge to ask "why don't you just let go? we have broken up long time ago, i don't wanna be burden to you with my problems. it is not comfortable anymore." he just smirks and walks toward you before answering.

"you naive little thing, you never stoped being mine. and i don't like seeing what's mine get hurt by someone else." you feel a knot on your throat. the urge to cry is undeniable. what does he mean? still his? it's true that you are still single after your breakup with him even years later but at the end of the day you weren't his either.

"don't play dumb with me, princess. i know how obsessed you are with me, never really moving on... don't worry i find it cute." you know he is right. ever since the very first time your eyes had been blessed by his beauty, you only wanted to be his. for a while you were his and getting to know the real him didn't help your case of obsession with him. you started to love him more with everything you had learned, craving for even more. even him dumping you never changing anything.

when he sees your face expression turning calmer, he finally decides to answer the question you have asked when he first walked in. "i still remember the password to doorlock, that's how i got in. i am sorry for following you but i couldn't let my baby go like this." you give him a smile full of pain. "i really want to tell you everything. and i will. just let me get my head cleared first. maybe if you let me finish my bath, i will be on my right mind so i can tell the story without victimizing myself."

a sinister expression covers beomgyu's face, leaving you confused with the sudden change of atmosphere. "without me?" he simply says. he stares at your pupil growing bigger like a cat almost covering all of your iris that expresses your shock. "what about your girlfriend?" you manage to ask. "who cares? she knows she is a nobody i just choose to get my dick wet. i will just have to deal with dumping her but that can wait." you know that beomgyu is not particularly fan of the idea of one true love but you also know that he is not just a player. yet you choose to ignore the words coming out of his mouth confusing you more and accept his request. it is wrong but there is no moral compass for beomgyu's asks.

you miss his beautiful face, his beautiful body, his beautiful everything. so the voice in your head that keeps telling you that this is wrong stands no chance. god must have put all his energy while creating him. because there is no other logical explanation of why he is this beautiful. you watch him get naked. he takes his time, almost like he is teasing you. your eyes filled with admiration, you feel sick to your stomach. how can you even look at him after what you have done. sure, there is no way that he was harmed beacuse of the stupid desicions you made with your certain member yet you felt guilty.

as if he was reading your mind he starts talking again. "you were going to clear your mind, remember?" you nod while his now naked body positions himself right behind you. he made you lean your back on his chest while he starts to play with your hair. "so missed this, can't believe i was the one breaking up with you. but you'll forgive me, right? that's what my girl does." you only hum in agreement. though he doesn't need answers, he always gets what he wants when it comes to you.

his hands slowly start to play with you. light sensual touches againgst your soft skin. his hands move from your arms to your boobs giving them a gentle squeeze. the stimulation you feel on your nipples making you lean towards him even more. your new position allows him to give kisses on your forehead. "gyu~" you shamelessly start to moan his name with the really little play. he smiles and orders you to turn around. when you do he brings you to his lap before starting his abuse on your lips.

what starts as a gentle kiss filled with love turns into his way of devouring you. "gosh, you look so cute. i've missed this. i missed you." your face lights up with his words. you waste no time repeating his words of longing. his lips lifts up when he places his hand to your cheek. "you are so pretty. so pretty for me. only for me." you agree "only for you, beomie."

"want to make me happy?" he asks while grabbing your face. "anything, my god. anything for you." he can't help but get excited with the thing you called him. a god. that's what he is to you, right? his hands moving to your neck, his grip thightens around your neck then he sinks your body to water. "hold your breath as long as you can, baby. i wanna see you struggle. don't worry i will be careful that you don't get harmed. and if it's going to be too much just say no, i will understand. " yet you say nothing and with that he forces yor head under the water. the oxygen losing contact with your lungs. you body activates it's panic mode. you try to get out but his grip keeping you suffocated under the water, only thing you can do is just struggle just like he asked. he slowly stops and helps you to come back to surface. "did i hurt you?" you shake your head assuring him that everything is okay. "you did so good for me like a slut perfectly molded for me." you could feel his aroused state.

"maybe i should reward my precious doll. hmm, right?" you get excited with the news. after making sure you both are clean, he lifts you up and carries you bridal style. when he brings you to your room, you both can't help but feel nostalgic. vividly remembering every single time you both sneaked out during trainee days to have some fun here. exploring each other's bodies and your sexualities. beomgyu takes a pride for being the only one that did these things to you. and he is the only one who can. he made sure of it with planting ideas of everyone else being disgusting but him, only he can love you, everyone else is always after their own best interests, they do not care about you, he also scared away whoever men trying to get close to you and most important thing of them all he made himself your god. he was aware of his beauty and he made sure that it is the only thing in your mind, thinking about it nonstop. why did he break up with you in the first place? who knows but believe it he would lose it if someone else touches his property.

after gently placing to your bed, a trail of kisses on your body, especially focusing on the places he can leave marks to claim you once again and show the world you are taken. he goes back and forth between soft sensual kisses and anilmalistic lickerish kisses. once he is satisfied with all of his bite mars around your nect to thighs, he gives your lips a final kiss.

"will you be a dear and spread those legs for me?" you happily obey without any second thinking, leaving beomgyu pleased. his hands immediately travels to your aching core. "hmm, so wet~ ah this boosts my ego, seeing my angel turning into a slut for me. " he comments before thrusting his middle finger into you. "shit, even more thight than i remember. i bet-" he says while his thum starts to massage your clit. "i bet you can't even take my second finger. i don't think you will be able to take my cock, princess. how are you supposed to? look at you so small compared to me~" he says with a scoff. without a warning he adds his second finger and starts to do scizoring motions to get you ready for his size. but with a sudden change of heart, you feel his fingers leaving your hole and he gets up and sits between your legs. "how about my baby gets an orgasm she clearly missed while not being with me, hm?" before you say anything you feel his lips on your clit and his fingers rejoin the party in your cunny. while his fingers thrusting you with a fast and brutual pace, his mouth is way more gentler with your button. your poor finger playing with your clit wasn't enough to make you cum. you don't know why you never tried anything other than that but he is making it up to you with more experienced skills after your break up.

"beomgyu! a-ah too good, too good! ple- please don't stop." you keep repeating like it'sn invocation. feeling overwhelmingly good, it doesn't take too long for you to get close. "cum for me, hun" his voice vibrates on your core and with that your high reaches to you like waves. only being able to pant, you just lay there. beomgyu smiles and gives you compliments. telling you how good you did for him.

before you can regather your consciousness, he makes you sit on the corner of your bed and sits next to you. hands playing with your thighs. he leans towards your ear. "first return the favor and we are talking, okay? and after that i wanna have more fun with you, missed you so much." he whispers. you nod and get on your knees between his legs.

you start with kissing the tip. gosh it has been so long, what if you scupper it up? your hands hugging his member. you slowly start to push your head towards the length. when it reaches to back of your throat, you try your best not to gag. one hand goes to the places that you can't reach to stimulate there too while with your other hand, you play with his balls. trying so hard to be your best. not stoping your tounge swiling and your efforts to suck the soul out of him. apparently what you do is working cuz he turns into a whimpering mess. "that's it baby, just like that like a whore but only for me."

this only encourages you to go deeper making his body to fall back down. "can't believe you haven't done this in more than two years. you are s- so good~" you feel over the clouds with the compliments.

his breath gets heavier when he gets close. manages to say "shallow every- everything that i give you unless you want- ughmp a punishment." right before he relaeses his liquid for you.

laying right beside him, you give him a moment to rest while you try to think of what you are going to say. when he turns his head towars you, he expects you to speak but now you think maybe your problem wasn't that big. when you keep staying silent, he snaps. looking at you with an angry expression he just says "get out with it."

"should i just tell them all at once or-" he interrupts "doesn't matter as long as you get it out off your chest." you keep only looking at him for a little while before you say "it is dumb and i really don't wanna bother-" he interrupts again. "me? you really think it's gonna bother me? you know maybe the only one thing about is your stupid overthinking. i want you to tell. and i don't care if you are comfortable or not. i deserve to know. and if it was that stupid why were you crying like a toddler, hm?" he kisses your cheeks and hugs you. panting your back while giving your face sweet kisses.

"i started it, i thought i was the bad guy. but now i realize that even though i am not innocent, i am the victim, the one who got abused and manipulated." he breaks the connection to see your face. "can you elaborate, darling? who did what to you?" you blink your eyes when you feel them getting dry. beomgyu slightly chuckles to your silliness for forgetting to close your eyes for so long. "go on, i am listening. gosh my silly girl. even missed this."

"i- i don't know why i was doing that, now i find it extremely cringe but i had this similar thing to drug problem." a shocked expression covers his face with the unexpected news. "you did what?" you cringed at yourself even more. "i know it is so dumb but i needed something to cope, you know after we broke up." he smiles "i understand, i wasn't making fun of it or judging. i was just surprised. it is just so unexpected from you. you are scared of authority and public opinion first of all and this thing also hurts people around you and that's where you draw the line. it all is okay though. this doesn't make you a bad person." say says reassuring you.

"yes but i might kinda have shown that little habbit to one of my members and they might have also started it because of me. but i swear i warned her and told her to stop constantly. and i didn't even show or suggest her that. she just saw me doing it one day and she also started to have an addiction it consumed her as a whole. she stopped doing anything productive and always talked about it even when she was not gambling. and i felt guilty." he looks at you with a warm expression this time. "i am starting to see why this is stressing you out that much. and you are talking about 'nincompoop' i am assuming. she was always problematic and a stupid loser. why can't she decide for herself in her age? i don't see the problem here, you are not responsible for an adult who is capable of making her own desicions. "

"i still haven't told you everything..." you stop "okay baby, i was just trying to be responsive. go on, tell me everything, i am listening." you continue "well, later i realized my guilt was unnecessary. i am not victimizing myself, don't get me wrong but she pushed me more into that rabbit hole. you know i am kind of naive-" he interrupts again "not kind of, you are." you speak up. "GYU!" he giggles "i am not calling you dumb, though i can easily get you there with my touch~ you are just too trusting and do not question people around you that much." this time you say nothing, enjoying his teasing but you decide to continue yet again. "since i am KIND OF naive, i started to become the one who is influenced badly rather than being the bad influence. i was rather a casual than an addict. but she was definitely. she then got caught by our manneger. he let it go and told he is not going to tell the ceo. she felt afraid. she was so scared. i felt guilty and promised i will help. she had nothing to be afraid of but you know scared people, they lose it. i suggested her getting help and told her i also will get it even though i have stopped doing it more than a yeand and a half. she stopped cuz she was scared but refused to get help or to do anything to get better."

his hands holding yours, he decide to tease you yet again. "i am guessing the real story starts after this." he feels kinda shocked when you nod. "you know she can easily tell the public, i was the bad influence. and i can't even deny it when she does. she is not stable. i am not making her mental health problems the villain but she never has the good intentions, only wants attention of others even if it's negative. she can easily ruin me, my career. not just me but also the other members. even one can argue that i deserved it and had it coming, you can't tell the same thing about the other girls. they did nothing wrong."

"she was scared that police will find her and she will be put in jail. i told her it has been months. they don't have an evidence even, they can't but instead of listening to me, she found other people's stories online that was not even similar to hers. i kept telling her stop looking at those news or fake stories, she only hurts herself. then i decided to pay an actor for a small role. she was my friend and she accepted it. so i told nincompoop that i had a friend that went through the same thing and her stiation was in a small city, a white lie in my opinion. my friend did everything i asked her to. i know this is way fucked up but i really had the best interest of her. i mean maybe not cause i was getting tired of her clinging on me and constant whining. i wanted to help, really, but she was just... i know she has problems. i am an awful person for instead of understanding her problems, i hate her for them. it is just too much sometimes." you are surprised that he just listened without interrupting even once. you two stay slient for a few minutes before he gathers his thoughts and speaks. "you are not awful. from what i see you tried to help but she started to see you as her therapist. am i right?" you nod then shake your head. honestly you aren't sure what happened between you two. it all feels like a fewer dream.

"i mean maybe you are right or maybe i am not as understanding as i thought i was." he clears his throat. "i think you do way above bare minimum. i really don't trust this girl. wasn't she lying about her mom abusing her, just because her disabled sister got attention while she did not?" you try to defend her. "all people seek attention, gyu. yes her lying was not good but no one got hurt, right? we all are desperate for attention because we all are social creatures so why is she the bad guy?" beomgyu sighs in disbelief. "why are you defending her? no one getting hurt and attention seeking being in human nature doesn't make what she did less wrong but also didn't she hurt you? is that also in human nature?" you get upset with the way he raised his voice at you. seeing your reaction, beomgyu spoke. "i am sorry for raising my voice. it is just you are so naive and i don't like seeing getting hurt, okay? now continue please."

"before i continue, i really need to ask you something. am i a real life bojack horseman for hiring an actor-friend to get what i want." he bursts into laughs when he hears your question. but when he realizes that you aren't joking, he simply says. "no. no, you are not." you giggle and then put your head on his chest.

"gyu, maybe my brain plays games with me but after that she got even worse as if she knew what was i up to. she kept sending me messages of how she was so afraid that police will arrest her and the stories from the internet she read became the only thing she talked about. i said something. it was not a big deal or maybe it was but i said that her trusting her paranoia and the random people on the internet more than me made me hurt and i got offended. i said that just trust me and my friend that went through the same thing. i called some lawyer friends and they said she was totally safe. i wasn't making anything up. i even called a police relative and asked if she is safe and he said yes as long as there is no evidence. and since there is no evidence she was safe. but instead of listening to reason she said and i quote 'i am saying that i am going to k1ll myself and you are making this about you. you are so selfish.' that was never my intention nor the thing i said. but her saying that made me feel selfish. i really don't have any moral compass but if i had one being selfish would be the equivalent of being bad so i felt awful, like i am the worst person ever. i was the one who abused my prescriptions pills which caused her to become a drug addict. i blamed myself but then she confessed that she even took part in drug dealing. i cannot be responsible for that, right? because i never did anything like that even the thing i did i warned her again and again and again. i kept offering professional help even before and after her getting caught. i did my best but she made me feel bad about myself and kept saying 'don't leave me. if you leave, i will end it.' she wanted my constant attention and i am just too tired, gyu." you speak this time without letting him respond until you finished.

he pushes your head up so that he can look into your eyes. "let's just softly ghost her or make her stop talking to you herself. she can't tell anyone you misusing your pills without revealing her substance abuse." you give him a confused look. "how am i supposed to ghost her or never talk to her. we live together, we are in the same band. how will it even work?" beomgyu doesn't respond but instead makes you sit while he keeps his back placed on your bed. though you don't quite get the reasoning behind this, you still want him to play with you as he promised.

he looks ethereal, you think to yourself. how can someone be this beautiful? that moment pushes you to show beomgyu how you worship him. you start with giving him the most passionate kiss he ever had. yor lips longing for his lips for years couldn't care less whose these lips supposed to kiss. you pity the girl yet you do not leave his lips even for a second like a hungry animal.

your kiss trails his whole body. giving every single corner attention they need and complimenting them throughout the way. your soft hands holding his as if they are afraid of losing it again. you don't care about beomgyu's stupid words about people outgrowing each other thing when he dumped you. you two are meant to be yet this thought originally belonged to beomgyu. in his own way, he did this to protect you but clearly he was wrong. what a mess you became after him. it is impossible to not pity you. he doesn't pity you though, he just wants to end your pain while as a giveaway he also gets what he wants.

you proudly look the evidence of kisses you gave filled with desire and little hickeys you covered his stomach with. you trace his bottom half when he stops you. with an easy move he flips you over pressing your body to mattress. his hands holding your arms around your head as if you would escape him if he leaves them. "small little thing~ look how you basically dissappear under me, so cute but it makes me wanna ruin you more, baby. will you let me?" beomgyu's words practically having an incantation effect, you scream your affirmation to him.

his lips immediately attacking yours for a fight for dominance which he obviously is going to win. the taste of his cum being felt by him when you invite his tongue to your mouth. giving him sounds of pleasure and him dueting you sounds, you both feel like you are in heaven.

"such a pretty doll for me to devour~ i bet you would make a great free use fucktoy or a pretty obedient housewife. gosh maybe i should make you one of those." beomgyu says while his right hand trailing down towards your aching pussy. he positions his right hand still taking control over yours.

his two digits playing with your hole with 'come here' and scizoring motions to get you ready, he adds the third one to the party causing a gasp from you. once he feels like you are ready enough to take him, he immediately thrusts into you. he doesn't wait for you to adjust his size. it of course causes some pain following your tears to fall. him only getting more aroused with your tears, his thrusting fastens and gets harder which you don't complain. too lost in the pleasure even with the pain.

it doesn't take you to cum around his dick since beomgyu still remembers your sweet spots to push his member towards to yet it doesn't stop his abuse. his hands moving towards your neck. he gives to much pressure causing you to fight for your breath. "i am not finished, better take it." he says while your body getting close to second orgasm. "cum for me again with me! show me how much you've missed me!" he orders just before you two cum together. his hands leaving your neck to your waist. with an easy move beomgyu manhandles you again on your all fours.

his cock never stopping being hard, he continues his abuse on your poor cunt. overstimulating it making you cockdrunk. beomgyu pulls your hair causing you to moan even louder. he places his other hand on your ass to have a better grip on himself. at this point the only thing you can say is his name while he fucks his cum back into you. enjoying how dumb you got around him, his thrusts fastens. "such a dumb slut. all mine. all mine. all mine. all mine. mine to touch. mine to breed. ugh you can't even respond. you love my cock that much? you can't think of anything but me~" you only being able to understand a little fraction of what he said, you feel the familiar pain building up on your stomach again when he says he is close. you cum around his cock for the third time just before he fills you up again.

he throws himself to your side and brings your back to his chest, spooning you. playing with your hair and giving you compliments not only about the sex you guys had but also your beauty and how angelic you are. he brings you water and makes sure you use the bathroom. he washes your body again. he orders you food you both like. he opens your comfort movie when food arrives. enjoying both the meal and the movie. you two take a nap and when you wake up, seeing him right beside you makes you feel like you are in heaven.

"we should finish our talk." he says leaving you confused. not waiting for a response from you, he says "would you give up everything for me? be my housewife. don't worry i will take care of you and our children." you only get more confused with his words but you nod. what did these have to do with the stiation? he continued. "you will not take the next day pills and you will have my baby. i will marry you. we could be a family and you get your happy ending away from her. since we can't expose her, we can get you away from her." you respond with a "that's dumb but it could also ruin your career. i don't want that. you deserve all the good things, gyu." but he is determined to get what he wants. "then when you get pregnant, we can marry in secret and the company will retire you due to a 'health related complication' i know these all sound dumb but i want you to be mine and mine only. give up everything, run away from your problems even if that's dumb, be with me, start a family with me." you know it all lacks logic but you agree. at the end of the day what would make you two happy is the logical desicion, right?

he smiles when he gets what he wants. he should have found a way to make it sooner but an opportunity came when his lovesick mind was about to go crazy. was he wrong when taking it? beomgyu is never wrong when it comes to you. ready to accept every part of beomgyu.

disclaimer: this work is of course not written with the intention to show real beomgyu, it is just fanfiction. english is not my first language although i can say i am pretty advanced this work contains ambiguity and incomprehensibility. addition to that some tense clashes. also i know drug is big taboo in korea and also i am not trying to make addicts look bad. if it looked like this, i can edit the story to make it less problematic. i hope you guys don't find it dumb. i originally planned the same conflict with shoplifting or gambling but they sounded cringe...

please do not copy or repost or translate my work. i will put this warning just in case. it is stealing in literal meaning. so please just don't.

i hope you guys enjoyed it~

it is my first full-length fanfic so writing might not be that good so i am apologizing for that. also changed the more darker tone this fic originally had cuz it was all edge no point. but i would really like feedbacks. and i appreciate every single reblog. have a good day! love you all!

taglist: @bomudreamgrl

special thanks to: @/kaespas (cuz if not for her i would have delete most of this fic)

[jantostolemyheart]

Fic #4

Title: Let Beauty Come Out Of Ashes

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, Bobby

Pairings: Castiel/Dean

Status: Complete

Sam heard raised voices coming from Dean's room. He went to check, but when he tried the door, it was locked.

He heard Dean's voice saying "Cas, I already told you, I'm not gay! So stop trying to kiss me!"

And Castiel's reply- "And I told you, you don't have to be gay to kiss someone or be with someone of the same sex!"

Sam sighed. Evidently Cas was trying to help Dean get through his internalized homophobia and it wasn't going so well.

"Just shut up and kiss already!" he shouted through the closed door, before shutting himself in his own room.

Dean rolled his eyes. But whatever he was about to retort was cut off as the angel kissed him. It was a brief and gentle kiss, but it left Dean flustered and confused.

He pushed Castiel away from him. "What the hell, man?"

Cas frowned. "I'm trying to prove to you what I said! Sexuality isn't black and white, straight or gay. Crowley, and Sam, are both pansexual. That means they like whoever they like, regardless of gender. I'm gay. Meg might be a lesbian. You're probably bisexual."

Dean stared at Cas, processing his words.

Dean snorted. "I'm not bisexual," he protested. "I'm straight! And you, cannot kiss someone, even just to prove a point, without consent!"

He opened the door and stalked angrily out of his room.

Cas followed, keeping pace. "I'm sorry, Dean. Look, could we try this again? Sit down, hear each other out, and go from there?"

"You've made your point, as have I. Now leave me alone, Castiel."

Cas inwardly flinched at Dean's use of his full name. "Fine, if that's what you want." He turned and disappeared, giving the hunter his space.

The days passed, turning into weeks, then months, with no sign of Cas.

Dean hadn't prayed to him since before the day Cas kissed him. Sam tried, but he was ignored, as usual.

Sam and Dean were on a hunt with Bobby, and it was going badly.

"I think you need to call your angel friend, Dean," Bobby said.

Dean grimaced. "Do I have to?"

"Well our other option is probably death. And I'd prefer not dying. So yes, you have to."

Dean frowned, but dialed the number. "You're talking to him," he told Bobby, before putting it on speaker.

Cas sighed when he saw who was calling. "What do you want?" He was not expecting to hear Bobby requesting his help.

"Fine, but as soon as it's resolved, I'm leaving." He hung up and materialized where they were, helping them sort out their problem.

Before Sam could talk to him, or get him to talk to Dean, he was gone.

Dean stared at where the angel was, a wistful expression on his face.

"...Dean. Dean!" Dean turned, to see Bobby calling to him. "Boys, we have to clean what we can, let's get to it.

After, we're going to get dinner and you're going to tell me what is going on between you and Castiel.

Your reluctance to call him could've put us in danger, and if this continues, it will again." Bobby wasn't angry, not yet.

But his tone was stern and left no room for argument.

After they ate dinner, Bobby ordered them some pie, then pointed his fork at Dean. "Talk," he commanded.

Dean sighed, and explained what happened.

"And this was 2.5 months ago?? Sheesh, you'd have thought something worse happened from the way you were acting."

Dean looked at him in surprise.

"Castiel shouldn't have kissed you. However I also understand his point of view.

You need to pull your head out of your ass, stop being an idjit, and realize that you do, in fact, love that angel.

And no, I don't mean platonically. We all can somehow see it, except you. Even he can, and we all know how bad he is picking up cues."

Dean just stared in shock at Bobby, a forkful of pie halfway to his mouth.

"So here's what's going to happen," Bobby continued. "When you get home, you're going to call Cas, and talk this through with him.

Sam will tell me if you have or haven't. And I'll know if you try and pull a fast one. Understood?"

Dean blinked, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

That evening, Dean called Castiel for the second time.

"What?" the angel snapped, irritated to see Dean's name on his phone again, and because Chuck got pissy with him again.

"Cas?" came Dean's voice. "Is everything okay?"

"You ignore me for two and half months, you don't get to pretend to care now. What do you want?"

Dean frowned at his angry tone. "Could we talk, please? About us?"

"What more is there to say? You more than made your point. Now leave me be," he glowered, even though Dean couldn't see. Cas hung up, even more irritated.

Dean's frown deepened, and a tear trailed down his cheek. Cas was being harsh, but he probably deserved it, didn't he?

He went and told Sam what happened, more tears sliding down his cheeks. From Dean's pained expression, Sam realized he was telling the truth.

He got up from the couch and hugged his brother tightly. "I'm sorry, Dean. You did not deserve to be spoken to like that.

I'll call Bobby in the morning, and we'll work this out, alright?"

He hugged Dean again. "For now, let's get some sleep."

Dean nodded and dried his tears. "Thanks Sammy."

"Any time, Dean."

He watched Dean retreat to his room before following suit.

Dean lay awake, mind churning despite how exhausted he was from the day's events. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

From a dark corner, Cas watched over him, soothing him whenever he had a nightmare.

By the time Dean woke up the next morning, Castiel was gone. His mind of that night was hazy.

He remembered having nightmares that faded quickly, but he didn't know who stopped them. Though he was pretty sure it wasn't Sam.

And it couldn't have been Cas, because they were currently on unfriendly terms.

He brought it up to Sam over breakfast, but the younger Winchester was equally as uncertain. Another thing to tell Bobby about, he supposed.

In the meantime, he turned his attention to his rapidly sogging bowl of cereal.

Sam called Bobby and told him what happened.

"Right. Give me the number for Castiel. I'll call him and give him a talking to.

At this point he's being unnecessarily mean. I'll talk to him and figure out what the heck is going on."

Sam gave him the phone number and hung up, before dragging Dean to the couch to watch TV while they had some relative peace and quiet.

Dean was just stirring his cereal and staring at nothing, and Sam decided to keep an eye on him in case he decided to be stupid.

All Bobby told Cas on the phone was to meet him in his living room. He then sat the angel down for a talk.

Cas explained everything from his side, and talked with the older hunter. Bobby took everything into consideration before reaching a decision.

"C'mon, we're going to the Winchesters. You and Dean are going to talk. I don't care how long it takes."

Cas nodded, and followed Bobby to his car. He fidgeted, nervous about how things would go.

Sam and Bobby sat in the living room, while Cas and Dean talked in Dean's room.

The two talked a while, about things not only about the attraction between them. Cas also apologized for kissing Dean.

When they talked about that, Dean still insisted he didn't feel that way.

Castiel sighed in frustration, but kept his face neutral. "Then I think it's best I stayed away for a while.

We both need time apart from each other, clearly, or things will go south between us."

Dean nodded, but was still unsure.

With that, Cas disappeared. As soon as he was gone, he let his tears fall freely. He cursed at himself, for falling so hard for Dean.

After Cas left, Dean sat heavily on his bed, wondering why he suddenly felt so empty, like something was missing now.

Dean slid to the floor, talking, praying to Cas immediately. "Cas, come back- Please- I think we made a big mistake.

Come back, please-" He was begging, crying, for the angel to come back.

Cas heard, but he didn't answer.

"Castiel! Please..." Dean begged him.

At that, Cas paused. If Dean was calling him Castiel-

He decided to go back. "Dean?" he said, voice gentle. "Dean, what's wrong? What do you mean by a mistake?"

Dean didn't answer, he just jumped up and wrapped his arms around Cas, burying his face in the angel's shoulder.

His sobs faded, tears absorbing into Castiel's coat.

Cas just held him, rubbing his shoulder gently. He risked pressing a couple of kisses to Dean's hair.

"I'm here, Dean. I'll stay, if that's what you want."

Dean nodded. "Please stay-" He didn't let go of Cas, staying like that for a while, the angel comforting him.

Cas wrapped his wings around them both, to comfort Dean.

"I'll stay."

[swallowedbyfandom]

When Rae wakes her early that morning she wonders which gentleman has set the fire she will likely have to put out that day. Luckily Rae is an angel sent from heaven, so she brings tea with her tales. Dash it, Rae looks terribly amused which means it involves Bridgerton shenanigans. Of all the ridiculous noble families society has to offer, the Bridgertons remain the ones Rae finds most amusing.

The further she gets into reading the report from Whites the more she debates day drinking. Surely, her mama would understand her need for Ratafia with breakfast this day. She did not expect a Bridgerton in the wild last night. She really thought Ant and Ben would drink with Colin until they all passed out in the study. Yet somehow Benedict ended up starting a bar brawl with Debling over bird pornography? That cannot be right. She must have misread that bit.

Unfortunately she did not misread it. She Penelope Featherington is now a muse for terribly written poetry. She wonders if Alfred chose the bird imagery because her name is Featherington or because he called her his Dove. She also wonders what offended Ben more. That Debling wrote erotic poetry about her or that he wrote bad erotic poetry about her? It could go either way with Ben. She will have to get ready to receive a lot of callers. She can hear the rumors now, Penelope Featherington the face that launched a thousand bar brawls. She accidentally snorts into her teacup. No wonder Rae is so amused. Now to break the news to her mama.

She warns her mama to expect a large volume of callers . She does not warn her mama that half of them may look like they just arrived in from the front lines. She also doesn't warn her mama about the extravagance of Bridgerton apologies. The look on her mother's face when half the florist shop arrives on their door step is worth it. The flowers from Ant all hold a simple card.

I sincerely apologize for my brother's behavior.

I will ensure he acts with more care for your reputation going forward.

Fondly,

Viscount Bridgerton

The flowers from Ben are her favorite as they are as eclectic and artistic as he is. Also because his arrangements carry a card that reads,

Sorry my brother is a dim witted whore.

At least he is very rich and pretty?

Also the rest of us are fantastic.

Fondly,

B. Bridgerton

Oh dear, hedonist Ben calling someone a whore. She cannot breathe through the hilarity of it. She knows that message must have been drafted while he was still half drunk. Still Ben makes the best emotional support brother.

She spends her morning to her mother's sheer disbelief dazzling callers. She pretends she does not know why they are all calling. After all, a gentle lady like herself would have no knowledge of escapades taken in a gentleman's club. She thanks them for coming to check on her after the very public breakdown of her courtship. She is demure and sweet above all.

She plays nurturing and concerned to the injured lords who show up battered from last nights brawl. She is all mischievous deflections with the rakes. She is bold humor and silly tales with the genuinely charming. She is sharp intellect with the business and academic minded. With all her callers, she is guileless in the face of their probing questions. While she would normally never bother with this level of effort for the shallow sheep of the ton, if she is leaving after this season she might as well leave an impression.

Her conversation with Lord Fife is the most fun she has all morning. For it is the only time she unleashes the full bite of her wit. He tries so hard to charm her.

"Miss Featherington, may I say you look ravishing this morning. I see why Bridgerton has attempted to keep you to himself." Fife sips his tea regally.

She arches a brow and allows a giggle to escape, "I am impressed you noticed anything at all with how devoutly you have been eyeing my neckline."

She watches the way his eyes startle up to her face. She smiles at him with chaos dancing in her eyes.

"Contrary to the rumors, Mr. Bridgerton and I have always maintained a chaste relationship. If you were hoping to see how you compare to him perhaps one of the nice working girls you both enjoy visiting would be kind enough to measure for you."

As he chokes on his tea and begins to cough, she continues.

"I am not sure why gentlemen enjoy comparing foils, but everyone must have a hobby I suppose."

She hands him a handkerchief as he continues to cough.

"Leave me out of the games you play, My lord. I am not a light skirt and you are not a husband." She calls over a footman. "Lord Fife seems to be coming down with something, he appears quite flushed does he not? Please escort him out. I hope you recover soon, Lord Fife."

She stands to give a small curtsy. She watches Fife exit with a slightly enamored and dazed look upon his face.

Her mother arches her brows at her in concern. She shakes her head lightly in response. Fife is no threat, who would believe him? She has played the timid Lady for years. She has also maintained a touch of hesitation when interacting with her callers so each gentleman feels like they have accomplished a grand feat when they get her to relax. Each gentleman that has come to call today will swear on a stack of bible about her gentle and virtuous nature. While Fife has a reputation for inappropriate behavior.

When her mama finally puts an end to calling hours she nearly leaps with joy. She calls for a sandwich and cake lord knows she has earned it. She is going to escape for a long bath and nap after this. She needs time to decompress.

Her mama has a terrifying gleam in her eyes. Thankfully she hid everything god awful dress her mama ever picked out. They are boxed and wrapped up with Gen. She never imagined she would miss maternal neglect so much, but here she is. She lets out a sigh. Her mama will have her dancing with suitors all night at the ball she is sure.

"Penelope, where are Mr. Bridgerton and Lord Debling this fine Morning? Are you not concerned"

Of course her mama wants to ask about them as if there was not a house full of desperate men just here, panting after her like dogs in heat. She wrinkles her nose up at the image.

"Lord Debling is likely nursing his injured pride and his injured face. He was involved in a fight of some sort at White's last night. I would be surprised if he showed his face in society for a few days."

"The Bridgertons are all competitive they are not going to let Colin come to call until they are satisfied with his plans for courting. They will all be at the ball but he is likely too ashamed to approach me just yet. He will stand by the dessert table and stare at me all night. His brother's will likely dance with me to keep other suitors away. We will see mama."

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Lights Camera Action

You have been making appointments with a certain Camboy for a while now. But it's getting to you, so this will have to be the last time.

Reader x Dick Grayson

1.7k

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub tones, swearing, mutal masterbation, degradation, praise.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

The lights in your office are out, the curtains drawn and the door locked as you sit at your desk. Reaching behind you, you flick the bright pink glow of your ring light on. “Nearly ready,” you mutter to yourself. Glancing at the clock on the corner of the screen, you see it’s 8:58. 2 more minutes. 

You shimmy the hem of your skirt up, adjust yourself in your chair and put on your headphones. Any minute now. 8:59. The paywall comes up and you confirm your account details. The anticipation somehow makes you giddy with excitement as you wait those last few seconds.

A soft click echoes in your ears and the screen sends you to the waiting screen. Fuck, only a few more seconds until you will have eyes on him. Another click confirms your payment and the call is accepted. Your screen goes dark, before slowly illuminating itself and the scene before you makes you re adjust your position in your chair. Your legs spread further apart as your heels wrap around the legs.

The man in question, a man whose name you've no real interest in knowing beyond the pseudonym he's chosen. Sits, his thighs spread wide on the edge of his bed. His dark hair falls into his eyes, his back arched in a hunch as his long fingers hold his pretty face. You can already see a light sheen of sweat over his toned, naked body.

“Nice to see you again, ma'am.” He says, not bothering to look up just yet. But the deep timbre of his voice is fucking divine and you cherish it almost as much as that pretty cock of his.

“Nightwing.” You start to tease yourself slowly grinding yourself down onto the soft leather of your desk chair. Confident that he cannot see the lust in your eyes with the lighting setup you have, “how are you?”

“Horny ma'am. My cock just won't go down.” he leans back, his dick on full display, standing up right between his toned thighs. His face finally rises and you see the tiny mask that covers his eyes. But you still feel them looking at you, even through the camera and the mask, “I need your help. Will you help me?” He pouts, his long fingers gripping the base of himself, “You know I can't finish unless you're watching.”

“I am watching, You may begin.” Your authoritative tone may sound convincing, even if this guy is turning your brain to mush. Over the last 3 months you've paid him on a Wednesday at 9pm and every single time you are convinced that it will be the last time.

“You like watching me,” he smirks at you as his strong hand on the base of his cock slowly starts to move, “don't you?” His free hand reaches over, pumping some lube onto it, before joining the other hand in slow meticulous strokes.

“Very Much,” your fingers gently trace along the inside of your thighs.

“You like it when I'm slutty,” he starts to speed up, while his face never looks down. His eyes locked on where he imagines you to be. If it weren’t for that mask and the camera it would be like you’re in the same room, “when I'm naughty.”

“You're very good at it.” you move your fingers, toying with the edge of your panties. “Such a naughty boy. Always tempting and misbehaving.”

“I'm your favourite aren't I ma'am?” He spreads his legs wider, while leaning his back towards the bed and fucking up into his hands. Your eyes drink in his sweat covered torso, until you hear him start to moan. Then your eyes quickly shift right back to his face. His mouth is hanging open, fuck you wish you could stick a few fingers in and have him suck on them for you. “Pleaassee.”

“Perfect naughty slut for me “ you don't mean for your voice to sound that sultry but apparently you can't help it. “fuck,” you surprise yourself so focused on the way his cock seems to be pulsing in his hands to notice where exactly your own hands have gotten to. But fuck, that feels so good in your clit. 

“I'll be such a good slut for you,” Nightwing pants as his hands start to twist over the tip, “Fuck. I wanna lick you while you watch me touch myself.” His teeth close down over his lip, trying so hard to keep those pretty whimpers in.

“Don't, let me hear them.” Your own fingers speed up, flicking over your clit while teasing your hole, “I wanna hear those slutty moans.”

“I ah-” he starts to pant, “yeees, I uhh- I caaann do that, ah- fuck me  fuck me, please, I need it.”

“Good boy,” your voice sounding as depraved as his, “show me what a whore you are. Sing for me.” Your fingers breach inside you as his moaning and whimpering grows louder.

“Your whore.” sweat drips from his forehead, his arms strained as the veins start to pop put of them one by one. You try to imagine how they’d feel under your hands, on your tongue, “fuck ma'am i want you so badly. Can't yoouu see it.” 

“I can see.” You lick your lips, dreaming of the way his precum would taste. Your eyes are glued to it as it drips down his hands instead of into your mouth. “You fuck, you are doing soon fuckin well.”

“Plesse ma'am, I want to be inside if you.”

“Would you lie down and take it like my naughty little whore?”

“Fuck, pllllleasse.” his whimpers are growing louder, his thrusts into his tight fist harder.

“Would you scream as I swallow you. Whimper in my ear as teeth mark your pretty skin.”

“Fuckkk ma'am, I'm so fucking close.”

“No you're not.” you command, but it's hardly compelling with your own moans barely contained in your throat. “You will wait.”

“Yes, I'll be good.” he nods with his lips pressed between his teeth. “I'll wait.”

“Did I say slow down?”

“No, no.” he begs, and the muscles in his legs tighten and flex. “I'm sorry.” He sits back moving his legs so they're under him and he rises to his knees. “I’ll be good.” his hair shakes and you can see the long dark strands that are sticking to the sweat on his face “can you still see me?”

“I see you.” you confirm. “I’m still watching.” he shivers at your words and you can barely keep the responsive moan you give at the sight. “You're Cock is so pretty,” you thrust in your cunt faster. With your eyes fixated on him you feel his cock inside you. Your eyes see what they want. Nightwing spread on your bed beneath you, his hands bound above his head as you show him just how generous you can be with nasty little whores, “it would stretch me so perfectly.”..

“Whatever you need. I just wanna be good for you. I want to make you feel how you-” his words become incoherent as he whimpers. 

“I want To sit on your face and smother you in me. Make you worship at my altar.”

“Fuck yes,” his hands are moving fast, but so are yours and you can feel your legs shake as he sits back on his, “drown me, fuck please, I wanna die between your thighs.”

“I’m close, you ready to give me all my naughty boy cum.”

“Ma'am”

“Be a good slut and cum I want ahhh, fukkk I wannmt fuck me, all ah ah all of it.”

“Yes, all of it all of me, ahh fuck, fuck, Fukkk.” He curses, his body shaking and his hands grabbing himself. The whimpers falling from his lips are insanely fucking hot and you can’t help but scream

Your free arm flies to your mouth covering just how loudly you're cumming so you're not overheard. Your teeth are biting into your skin as your eyes watch him spray his stomach with his load. He’s a mess, fuck you wish you could clean him up.

The call sits silent from a moment as you both catch your breath. You pull your fingers out just as you notice him gathering his cum on his, “how'd you taste?” You ask, desperate to know.

“I'll share if you will.” He smirks, sticking his fingers in his mouth teasing you with how slowly he's sucking on them.

You bring your face toward the camera, the light of the screen partially illuminating you, so he can only see your lips, “sweet as honey,” you smile, slowly sucking off each finger individually.

“You keep doing that bad imma and need to cum again.” He teases, by the way his cock twitches you know he ain't lying.

“What do you taste like pretty boy?”

“Salty, warm, But something is missing,” he taunts you, standing and moving closer to the camera.

“And what's that?”

“You,” his tongue darts out over his lips, inches away from. The camera, “my cum isn't complete without yours mixed with it.”.

“I-” your eyes go wide, unsure what to say. But before you even get a chance the screen goes black and you're left in the dark.

“Fuck. I'm so fucked.” You sigh, pressing your head into the edge of your desk, “What the fuck am I gunna do?” You start to roll your neck, cracking your shoulders as you move to stand. You swivel your head, sure that you heard something. But you’re pretty sure everyone left for the night. Maybe you’re just paranoid. “I’m completely fucked.” you whisper again as you flick on the desk lamp and move to grab your phone and purse. “I need to stop.” shaking your head you stand adjusting your skirt and throwing on your blazer. “I’ll just delete my history.” you nod. “Yeah, okay.” you lie to yourself, flicking the desk lamp off and heading out the door.

As the door clicks shut a tiny noise can be heard from your computer, “You can’t delete me Ma’am. I know what you look like now. I’ll find you and show you just how naughty I can be.”

[dreamingofyeo]

Mafia Mingi & Jongho x undercover reader oneshot tws: harsh language, suggestive, threat, angst, use of name ‘doll’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You delicately circle the rim of your glass with the tip of your finger at the bar, the ice has long since melted. You're not here for a good time. For such 'threats', the two men you're yet to see in the exquisite space aren't exactly punctual.

sending a subtle glance toward the door, you adjust your glasses, clicking the hidden button in the process to view the men's digital profiles again before the action starts. They're possibly the most useful tool for you in your line of work, subtlety and information at your fingertips, the entire database for Arriba is on them.

[ name : 송민기 Song Mingi ] [ 09.08.99 - 24yo - male - 1.83m ] [ member of 'The Black Pirates'. Specialises in pyrotechnics] [ wanted for: arson, assault, breaking and entering, murder ] [ only engage with backup ]

[ name: 최종호 Choi Jongho ]

[ 12.10.00 - 23 - male - 1.76m ]

[ member of 'The Black Pirates'. Specialises in reconnaissance ]

[ Wanted for: assault, breaking and entering ]

Only thing they’re missing is pictures next to them. You scoff inwardly at the level of supposed 'threat' they posed, you'd been sent on far more dangerous missions. all you had to do was your own bit of reconnaissance and report back to your leader. These 'black pirates' as they call themselves have been getting rather ballsy lately, almost half of Arriba's clientele have switched to them, a fact your boss is none to happy about. Your brief for the evening is to simply observe how they present themselves to said clientele, if you find an angle to work, their prospective 'customers' can be turned away. You could care less personally for the little turf war that is playing out, but its better to nip it in the bud than wait for them to decide if they want to wipe out your crew all together.

Just then, the sound of the bell in the entryway rings out behind you. You bring your glass to your lips but swallow nothing. The sound of boots on marble comes closer painfully slowly before coming to a halt, arms leaning on the bar table. He calls the barman over with a short tight whistle.

The man in question turns around, an equally tight smile forced onto his otherwise tense countenance.

"Ah Mr. Song, what can I get you tonight?" he gets out, customer voice on full display, so much so you almost have to suppress a chuckle.

"I'll get a tequila sunrise, and one for this lovely doll here" he says, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he says the words.

Knowing you cannot avoid the interaction, you turn towards him- putting on your best acting skills. The words from his profile screaming at you to get out of the situation.

"Hello, I'm sorry but I already have a drink, don't want to overdo it" you smile coyly at him.

the barman chuckles lightly, "You say that y/n, I'm not even sure why you're here tonight, it doesn't even look like you've touched your glass"

Bastard. You could slit his throat right now.

you only offer a light laugh in return before giving him and your onlooker a plausible story for your lack of drinking. Unfortunately, your alcohol consumption does not seem to be the only thing lacking as the man you're here for raises one eyebrow at you and the barman simply nods. Just great, if they didn't already know your face this Mingi would've definitely caught onto something being amiss by now.

it's then that you realise the lack of his partner and your mind freezes. You never gave the bartender your name.

Jongho specialises in reconnaissance, Mingi specialises in pyrotechniques. Mingi is near rows of alcohol, Jongho is somewhere in the room, waiting for the opportune moment to enact whatever plan they've got going. They know, they must've caught onto Arriba's plan- either that or there's a mole. You need to abort the mission, now.

You can't run. It's not an option, not when you don't know where Jongho is lurking. The possibility of a mole is information so crucial to return it's not worth the risk of being captured or worse, dying. The only plausible option in front of you right now is to play into the tone Mingi used when he first approached you- disgusted as it makes you.

"Yeah that was a lie, my apologies. I thought I'd try something different tonight but its not to my taste, I'll take that drink if its still on offer please sir." you delicately say, lightly placing your hand on his upper arm. You can hold your alcohol, you'll just have to hope he can't.

For a moment he looks taken aback, as if not exactly knowing what to do next. For only a moment, then he nods at the bartender who all but leaps into action making the tequila sunrises. Leading with your story, you decide to push it a bit further.

"Like I say, this is not to my taste, you're more than welcome to finish it." you say, pushing the glass towards him.

He takes it to his lips and takes what's most likely an amount equivalent to a shot straight. Enemy as he might be, you'd have to be blind to not acknowledge how attractive it is, or he is for that matter.

4 drinks later and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Only to leave it coming face to face with a man. He is so uniquely beautiful you simply freeze in place. You don't even notice the familiarity of his shirt thanks to the alcohol.

He tilts his head knowingly before speaking in a low tone.

"Starstruck?"

this draws a light scoff from you, you're not that far gone.

"Cocky?" you counter. He smirks walking closer to you.

"maybe."

fuck...

"Either way, you don't seem to be complaining." he offers, now very close to you. Who cares. The mission went to shit anyway, why not enjoy yourself a bit.

"What's your name?" you ask lightly, his fingertips pushing a lock of hair behind your ear just as gently.

"You'll have to earn that one I'm afraid doll." He pulls back and tilts his head slightly again.

"what's yours?" he asks like he already knows the answer, you're so far gone from his proximity you can't find it in you to care if he really does or not.

fuck it.

"not a chance" you say lowly before leaning forward and connecting your lips.

He kisses you back almost instantly, fingers threading through your hair, connecting them to the back of your head. Your glasses bump against him, he removes them from your face without a word and goes back to you, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth gently causing you to gasp into his mouth. You feel him smirk against you before pulling away, leaving one last soft peck.

You know damn well your eyes are glassed over with longing right now, he chuckles at the fact before speaking.

"Sorry doll, you're a little too drunk for anything else, I'll see you again." He lifts your knuckles to his mouth and kisses them lightly before turning and walking out into the main room of the bar, turning right towards the exit.

As you collect yourself you realise like a punch to the gut that he still has your glasses. You race after him, only to find the bar now completely empty, not even the bartender is there.

The bartender.

The man's shirt.

The petname the man used.

How unusually badly you handled the alcohol.

The lifelike mask matching the bartender's face you spot laid out perfectly on the bar table next to where you now stand, a note at its side.

'sorry for getting you wasted doll' it reads. You can almost see the smirk on his damn face.

Specialises in reconnaissance indeed.

Choi fucking Jongho.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: happy new year! written straight onto the post, will likely edit later. also I've never written a oneshot or anything suggestive before so please bare with me while I try to figure out how to do it well haha. I'm pretty happy with how this turned out though please lmk what you think and if you'd like to be added to the permanent taglist for my work <3

taglist: @jongnado @voicesinmyhead-rc @n3atjok3r246

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku supernatural au

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked on titles are mine.

Some contain mature content. Read tags.

Art work by @veve {twitter}.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Under the Full Moon

by shalia_earante

Summary: Katsuki is finally ready to propose courtship to his nerdy ghost Deku, but the boy is nowhere to be found!

One Shot | SFW

Werewolf Baku x Ghost Deku

A Cat Named Deku by silentsongbird

Summary: Bakugou begrudgingly takes in a stray cat that has been hanging around his home. He says he's motivated by the weather turning colder, but he just can't resist the little fur ball. One night, Deku decides to let him in on a little secret.

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Rated - Mature

Cursed Shifter Deku x Human Baku

Blood Oath by Kolista

Summary: “Being alive ain’t worth shit if you don’t got something to live for,” I tell her with a sneer.

“Yes,” she pauses with a knowing tilt to her head. “To bad I am not alive.”

I laugh at her then. A deep one that has my chest shaking and when I settle down a little I start to feel a bit woozy. Whatever the fuck that old man puts in that brown water he calls ale has finally caught up with me. Or so I think.

The vampire bitch leans in close to me. Those disgusting red tipped finger nails graze my inner thigh as she whisper in my ear, “you’re going to make such a fine pet once we’re done with you. I bet you look splendid with a collar wrapped tight around that pretty neck of yours.”

— — —

Or Baku is kicked out of his pack and forced to make it on his own. He doesn't get far before he's scooped up and held prisoner at The Shelter, a supernatural black market where you can purchase anyone for any price. Bakugou is purchased by Izuku, a vampire prince whose in need of a bodyguard and the enemy to Kat's people. Now he must choose between his people or the one person he's supposed to hate.

Complete | 40 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

Vampire Deku x Werewolf Baku

The Morning-After Pill Doesn't Work On Werewolves, You Damn Deku!

by greatcloudninja

Summary: “All Supes have a secondary gender separate from the regular gender spectrum: alpha, beta, and omega. Alpha Supes—even non-werewolves—develop knots. And omega Supes, even those who have male genitalia, develop certain characteristics as well… like the fact that all omega werewolves can get pregnant if they have sex with an alpha during the full moon.”

Recently-turned vampire Midoriya Izuku wakes up in a hotel room, naked and vulnerable to encroaching morning sunlight, with a stranger on the other side of the bed. Except the stranger isn't a stranger at all—Bakugou Katsuki was his babysitter growing up, the older boy Izuku idolized and crushed on. Now he's getting a very... hands-on lesson in what separates the supernatural community from 'normal' humanity, as he realizes he's become very intimately connected with Bakugou in a way he never imagined.

One Shot | OmegaVerse

Rated - Explicit

Vampire Deku x Werewolf Baku

my love is always bitter/yearning

by lovemepidge

Summary: Two vampires get drunk and describe each other looks as they cannot use mirrors

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Not Enough Time With You

by schrammashley1

Summary: Bakugou and Midoriya have already spent more than two lifetimes together yet, Christmas remains Izuku's favorite holiday and Katsuki realizes the nerd always gets what he wants.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

An Aching Desire to Find

by psycovibes

Summary: It's been years since he last saw that freckled face, those viridian eyes that looked at him as if he was the most beautiful poem ever written.

The pull on his heart had only grown stronger with his will to find him. He would do anything to hear that voice say his name again.

He would give anything to find him.

One Shot | Victorian AU

Not Rated

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Vampires Versus Wild by skyfallgar

Summary: Izuku barged into their shared home, panic written across his face. “Kacchan! we have a problem.”

“No,” Katsuki said. “YOU have a problem.”

He then pointed a finger at the intruder. “I have an idiot who keeps getting into one.”

“Mean, Kacchan,” Izuku pouted.

“So, what is it this time?” Katsuki asked.

“I told vampire hunters we were vampires,” he blurted.

“You did WHAT??”

— — —

OR Vampires bkdk keep pranking each other every 50 years or so.

One Shot | SFW

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Lovebites by mynameis152

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou was going to hate this summer.

He thought he'd hate it because he was being forced to leave home and work for his mother's friend in a small, seaside town. He thought he'd hate it cause he was being punished for burning his room to a crisp. He thought he'd hate it because he hated change.

But it turns out, he hated the Supernatural Turfwar between four species that shouldn't exist but do a whole lot more....

— — —

Or The one where Katsuki is forced to move in with Inko for the summer and finds himself falling for a particular bloodsucker....

Complete | 57 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

[poetryinsilence]

Oceans and Engines (part I)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female!Reader

part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V

A/n: It's October so you know what that means! ✨Whumptober✨ Fluff to Angst fic. This is a love letter; signed, sealed, and undelivered with unsaid things to no one in particular. I wanted to make myself cry because life got me in a chokehold. And what better way to do this than write a fic that takes away -1hp with every word written. This is a full-on SOBFEST, so, enjoy :) I wanna apologize beforehand because there are just so, so many metaphors and ocean-themed and that's on me :')

Summary: So what if you've found the right person; so delicate with love that he could run his fingers lightly on your face and you would burst into flame? But what if he’s also the wrong person, one that doesn’t put up a fight and runs away? Loving Robert Floyd felt so easy, yet hurts so much.

Wc: 2,290

His breath felt heavy in his chest, tightening with each inhale he took and exhaled with a shaky sigh. Hands sweaty as he wipes it away with the fabric of his pant legs and swaps between what's clutched in his hand. He got on one knee in front of a crowd of party people and drunkards at The Hard Deck as his trembling voice asks:

“I love you from the moment you walk into this bar, and I will always and forever love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

The gathered crowd gasps at the scene in front of their eyes; you could hear a pin drop at this moment as they await your answer. You were stunned by this sudden proposal proposed by your boyfriend; eyes gazed into yours with affection and adoration. A few strands of his golden hair curl just above his cerulean blue eyes- hiding behind big gold-rimmed glasses. His boyish grin radiates warmth, but his affection cannot penetrate your heart because you know that you are undeserving of taking his last name and starting your own family with him for the rest of your life. You do not deserve his unconditional love because, to you, he’s not the love of your life.

Minutes seem to slow down at the very moment when your eyes travel to the entrance of The Hard Deck, and there he stands tall and upright, with his wire-framed glasses shaped perfectly on his pretty face, just as you remembered it. He gave you a soft smile and a nod. The light behind his ocean eyes flickered with a twinge of sadness, but he knew it was what he must do.

The swarm of people crowds this beautiful moment; he’s the only one that stands out and captures your attention. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. He was once your dream. A story of the future that you had, but the pages crisped and torn without knowing what the end truly holds—the one true love that entangles with your soul. And the one that also slipped away.

———

You decided you needed a change of pace from the small town you once grew up in, but now it's just a place blended into one giant shade of monotonous grey. Its cultivation in prime time is long gone and people who remain there either moved away to find a better future for themselves; or are just halfway through death’s door.

That’s when you wanted a clean slate; at the age of 24, to cut out the suffocation and the repetition of your old, stuck-up job. Where else would you rather be other than California? The literal opposite of your childhood town. A place where the heart of the city and its people are, well, alive!

You sat on the beach with that sweltering sun beaming down at you; the grainy sand cradles your feet. You wonder when was the last time you ever felt this feeling of hope and excitement spilling out from your core.

As the hues of the sky entwined with the ocean at the horizon in a sunny shade of orange, the waves draped along the shoreline one moment and pulled back the next, leaving a brief imprint of their existence. Eyes drooped closed as you listened to the crescendo waves ripple in tempo until a sudden searing pain smacked dead across your arm and the backsplash of rough sand splattered across your face.

"Oh God, I-I-I'm so sorry. I-It's my fault! The ball slipped out of my grasp and-and are you alright?" A panic and concern in his trembling voice. You look up to see a black silhouette blocked out by the sun; the shape of his outline appears lanky— hunchback with his shoulders rolled forward.

He crouched down to inspect the damage he had done to your arm. Now in full view, you see his features; eyes wide and filled with blue mimicking the vast ocean, his hair slick back with hair gel or sweat— maybe a mixture of both— along with an old school wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose and tightly fitted with a saffron colored shirt. His lips are pursed together as worry has taken over his face.

The pain in your arm no longer matters when you catch sight of his gaze. He softly smiles at you, and without missing a beat like the waves pushing against the shore- everything about him pours right into your world. The warmest blue eyes and that innocent, boyish smile— you drink it in. And he does the same. Take in your deep-set eyes, trailing down to the top of your nose and lingering on your bitten red lips. You felt intoxicated simply from just one look; the butterflies in your stomach threatened to escape and flutter out to the world, embarrassingly exposing yourself.

He opens his mouth to speak before getting cut off by distant shouting. “Got your foot stuck in the sand? What’s taking so long?” A handsome man, flexed with washboard abs and flocks of blondes. He yells out. He’s good-looking, you’ll admit it that much, but his lack of mannerisms took a toll on you. If he wiped that cocky-ass grin and pretentious personality off his overconfident face, maybe you might just tolerate him.

“I-I think she’s injured! I’ll take her to Penny’s. You guys go on ahead!” He swoops up the football and launches it in one full motion. What surprised you was your underestimation of his physique when he swung the football back to his teammates across the beach with a rough estimation of 30 feet apart. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you sure are now.

He turns back with his brows knitted together. “Let’s get that iced before it gets any worse for you.” He helps you up on your feet and offers support on your elbow. When his touch grazes your arm, the heat of his fingertips lingers and sends a shock of warmth down your spine. Goosebumps light their way on your arm, and you hope he hadn’t noticed as he guides you across the beach to a homey-looking bar with ‘The Hard Deck’ inscribed on the front. He pushed his way in and worked around before seating you on the bar stool.

“Seems like you know your way around here.” You broke the silence with curiosity, as he rummaged around behind all the beer taps. You glance around, taking in the sight of this shack; rows of cups decorated and hanging low from the ceiling, and a piano sits isolated on the opposite side of the bar while the jukebox plays a slow, sultry tune in the background.

It's unusually quiet for a bar, with barely any patrons or servers in the early afternoon. You listen loosely to "I’m in the mood for love" and think to yourself about the irony of this situation. Sure, you just met this guy approximately 15 minutes ago. But he's also the first person you’ve actually had a proper conversion (kind of) in the state of California, where you’re a million miles away from where you came from, and yet, there’s something unique and different about him but can’t quite put it on a canvas.

He whips back around with a bag of ice ready in his hands and treats it gently on your already purple bruise. He frowns. “I um, I-I just come here quite often. I don’t drink, but um- the guys outside hang around quite a lot, so I usually just join them.”

He pursed his lips together again, wondering if he had said the right thing. The icy coolness seeps across your injury and follows up your fingertips, but this arctic temperature could not calm the flush spreading along your cheeks.

His posture slumps, leaning on one hip and still hunched— making himself smaller than the space he’s occupied, but correct himself once he sees you observing his every move. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s probably rude of me that um- that I haven’t introduced myself.” He sheepishly pushed up his glasses, “I’m Robert, Robert Floyd. But you can call me Bob. That's what everyone calls me anyway. But also, that is kind of my name.” Bob mumbles on, reaching out his hand for you to reciprocate the handshake, but was immediately taken back by him.

“Oh, sorry…I didn’t- that was your injured arm.” He casually collides his palm back and forth with the side of his shorts before reaching out. You gladly accept the gesture and, in turn, unveil your name. His lips softly repeat your own back to you; in slow syllables, causing your heart to skip a beat. Or possibly just stop beating all at once.

“I think that should be my line since you’re the one that’s helping me. Well, cause the damage and then patch me up.” you jest but noticed the colour drained from his face. You shook your head and wanted to tell him you were joking. But he interjects,

"I-I-I am really, really sorry about that. It's unusually clumsy of me and-and—" fingers fiddling in anxiousness, his chest rises. With a heavy sigh, he opens up again. "Can I buy you a drink as-as an apology and to make it up to you?"

Bob swallows, awkwardly looking down at his shuffling feet against the hardwood floor, waiting nervously for your answer. You can almost see the thoughts in his head, screaming out: 'Is she going to reject me? Am I being too straightforward?' as you hold in a giggle.

"Yes, I would like that very much" a beat, "and...apology accepted." 

Bob's shoulders relaxed, and his face beamed with relief and delight. He hadn't noticed the breath he held in with his mind fully preoccupied with the thought of your rejection and possibly resentment for his own little football mistake. But he felt grateful it gave him an opportunity to have the courage to talk to you. 

He noticed; you sat by the shoreline, mesmerised by the twinkle of ocean waves, attentive to the sound of nature clashing and contemplating. He wondered what you were thinking, what you were feeling. He wanted to peek inside and see. The mellow breeze blew past you, strands of hair caught across your face as you tucked them behind your ear with your delicate finger, and a few locks weaved freely, where he thought they were radiating in the sunlight. His soul was screaming at his feet to come up to you and strike up a conversation, yet in his gut, he knew he wouldn't have the bravery to be able to keep you around. But all it took was one brawny pass from Hangman, and an accidental slip-up sends Bob landing at your feet as the fates have it.

Conversations flow effortlessly between you and Bob. How he was growing up, living off his family’s ranch on the outskirts of Texas, where he helped raise cattle and sheeps with his father. He remembers every Saturday, his mother would make him omelettes with an extra side of buttermilk pancakes and explained that's his favourite. His eyes twinkle with childish joy as he runs through his nostalgia, and you laugh along when he exaggerates the motion of hands, so immersed in his stories that made you wish you had witnessed it too. In return, you shared your side of the story.

Little by little at first; then all at once, you spilt them out. You’ve never met someone that listened to your life story as intently as him before. Most people you’ve met quickly brush you off as sensitive or overreacting, but Bob, he listens. He laughs along with you at the parts that made you happy and frowned at the memories you lived through that made your eyes wet. He understands how lonely you felt, living in a repeated cycle, but you’ve always looked on the brighter side of life. A life that’s filled with nothing but love, and he hoped that he could be a part of it someday.

Aviators started to roll into The Hard Deck, and that’s when you both knew it was your cue to leave. Bob insisted on walking you home, but you politely declined and reassured him you lived close by. That it’s perfectly safe to walk home while the sun is still up. Before he leaves, he turns and blinks at you, debating something inside his head but decides to ask anyway.

“C-can I see you again? I hope this isn’t too much, but I want to um- talk to you again. I uh- Oh, I work nearby- I-I’m a naval officer, like one of those aviators, well, a lieutenant. Actually, a weapon system officer, w-which is-“ he sealed his lips together to stop himself from babbling on any further embarrassment. But you find his reaction rather cute.

“I knew you were special,” you whispered inaudibly to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing…Um, of course! I’d love to meet you again.” You flashed a toothy smile in response.

Bob instantly melts into your grin, and the word ‘love’ echoes inside his head. He never had anyone use the word ‘love’ to him before, not in a genuine way. He heard his teammates use it in the context of things like 'Hangman loves the feeling of the need for speed' or 'Rooster loves to beat the shit out of Hangman when he steps out of line.' All of these were in the context of things. But hearing in your silky voice, it’s something he never learned until now. That the word ‘love’ has such a powerful feeling— this intense warmth he never wants to let go of and one he can’t bear to lose.

[tickle-my-hyperfocus]

My friend told me to post this tiny SC ficlet so here goes i hope you’ll take my little token of my love for this fandom and all you do for me with the beautiful things you all create.

Tags: supercorp, confession, pining, one-sided., no happy ending in sight sorry

—————

Kara took a deep breath, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her, her vision darkening around the edges as her chest started feeling tight and she could hear her heart drum in her ears.

“Lena can I talk to you?”

Her own voice sounded weird and foreign, and kind of far away. She couldn’t remember what she had said, what she was going to say, yet she knew it was going to screw things up between them.

But as Lena turned to her and locked eyes with her, concern evident as she seemed to search Kara’s expression for an indication of what was happening, if Kara was ok, if she needed to do something to make sure she was ok, Kara knew it was too late to back out now. She had no choice but to keep talking. Literally, as she realized her mind no longer had control over what was about to come out of her mouth.

So in response to the slight tilt of Lena’s head she spoke, a little too loudly, a little too fast, a little off-kilter.

“Lena I don’t think I can, I need to tell you something, but please don’t hate me, promise me you won’t hate me, I don’t want to lose you please, ever I just —“ Her eyes locked with Lena’s and for a split second the thoughts in her head quieted down, she could breathe, oxygen was flowing to her brain again.

That was until Lena put a hand on her biceps and with a reassuring squeeze invited her to continue, with a softly spoken “Kara?”

Rao the way she said her name, so warm, so quietly, so full of love and Kara just wanted to wrap herself up in the two syllables falling off Lena’s lips and yell into the universe YES, YES I AM KARA. She had never loved her name as much as when Lena spoke it.

Her eyes fell to those lips, those gorgeous, soft lips, just begging to be kissed.

Kara closed her eyes and breathed to steady herself before losing control again and, while begging to please stop, to not say anything, to not risk anything of what they had, she blurted out:

“Lena I think I’m in love with you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, hoping that if she couldn’t see Lena’s expression she wouldn’t have to face the certain revolt, and hurt, and rejection that was certainly painted across her best friend’s face.

Her best friend.

Tears slipped through her lashes and down her cheeks as she realized she had gone and truly screwed everything up. She had lost Lena. She had lost her best friend. She had messed it up as she had messed up every friendship before this. By being too much, too intense, too attached.

Her shoulders tightened as she felt a sob part to build in her chest, burning its way up and making her lips quiver: flashes of their friendship flying through her mind at neck brake speed. Hugs, kisses on cheeks, laughter, Lena’s eyes when she spotted Kara across a room, the smell of Lena’s hair.

But as the first sob shook her body, she felt something.

Two hands cupping her cheeks, thumbs softly wiping away tears, arms pulling her into a hug, lips kissing her hair.

The warm, familiar smell of Lena invaded her senses and felt like a blanket of comfort and safety.

Lena’s breath on her ear and neck as Lena whispered softly into Kara’s hair.

“Don’t cry, shh, it’s ok. I’m here Kara. It’s ok love, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

As Kara relaxed and took a deep shaky breath Lena pulled back to look at her, her hands still holding on to Kara’s shoulders.

“Kara, darling. I love you. I care for you so much. You are my favorite person. So even if I cannot love you back that way, and I wish I could, I really do. But even though I can’t love you the way you want, I would never leave you. I couldn’t bear to lose you. I am so sorry Kara, I am so sorry if I have made you think—. But I hope you can understand it wasn’t intentional, ever. I just- you confuse me. I don’t know how to- I had sworn to never trust anyone ever again, and you barged in and broke through all of my walls with a battering ram. Kara I don’t know how, but I couldn’t stop myself from loving you even if I tried. And believe me, I have tried. But I cannot love you like that. I can’t.”

Kara dropped her eyes and breathed in, composing herself.

“I know, I understand. I’m sorry Lena I shouldn’t have—“ And with that her eyes dart up to Lena’s face, a sad grimace crossing Kara’s before she takes Lena’s hands in hers, removing them from her shoulders, and looking Lena in the eyes. 

“I am sorry I overstepped your boundaries.”

And with a soft squeeze Kara drops Lena’s hands, looking into her eyes one more time before turning on her heel and walking out of the room. The door swings closed behind her.

It isn’t until the click of the lock that Lena realizes she’s gone.

[wordtotherose]

"Stop walking away from me!" Elizia takes a deep breath, doesn't close her eyes or frown or furrow her brow, she stays perfectly still. "Listen to me for Hell's sake and stop lying. You aren't fine and frankly, if you couldn't tell, neither am I."

Astarion is a breath away from her face, fists in her nightshirt, holding her close without a care for the pull of the collar around her neck. His breath smells of wine, the bad stuff he only drinks when he's upset. And right now, he's furious. Incandescent with his rage. She cannot show how much his wrathful accusations hurt her, because he will fold into himself, he will crumple and this conversation won't have a chance in hell of progressing. It needs to happen, she knows it does, she's been putting it off and throwing herself into everything and anything to avoid talking to him. Because it's insane, what she's dealing with, absolutely batshit insane and if he doesn't question her sanity after she tells him then…then…well, then she won't know what to do. And that's terrifying. Far scarier than the vampire threatening her. Letting him win is the only way forward or they will be back to where they've been for the past however many days since they moved into this house. It's not yet a home, maybe one morning soon she will wake up and it will feel safe, it will feel like a refuge from the world and all its problems. It doesn't yet. It certainly won't if this is how they're going to be the entire time living under the same roof. And whilst it is entirely her fault right now, she wouldn't lie to him. She is fine enough.

"Astarion," she keeps her voice level, tone as clear of judgment as she can manage in this situation, "I am not lying to you."

He shakes her harshly before pushing her away with an aching look of disgust. "I don't understand, Tavaril. I cannot see what it is I have done between then and now, maybe it's just time. Maybe you've just finally realised the- the reality of chaining yourself to a vampire. An, in your defense in this, admittedly messed up vampire spawn. It makes sense. After all, this cannot be what you want. This perversion of a life. You are miserable, it hasn't escaped my notice that you can't stand to be in the same room as me let alone look at me or, gods forbid, touch me! This is the first time I've seen you in three days, Tav, and you're already leaving again."

Continue Reading on AO3 or under the cut.

He stops abruptly when she flinches, dismay breaking through her mask. He only calls her that when talking about her to the others. It is always, always an endearment or the full versions of her names when speaking to her directly. Never Tav. Not once since they met. She can't get herself together again quick enough to say something before he's back on his roll.

"What?" He snaps. "The truth not meeting your expectations? Lie to yourself, Tav, but don't you dare lie to me, I've had enough of that in my life. I know you're still not sleeping, I can hear you through the wall and yet you make me listen unable to do anything to help. You say you are 'fine' and you send me away. What changed? What did I fucking do? I thought- Gods! I honestly let myself believe you when you said you wanted to live with me, that you wanted our future. Together. But no. Of course not. Why wait until now? Why now, after everything?"

"I haven't lied to you," she repeats, knocked off balance by just how bad she has let it get, just how much she has hurt him, and, because she can barely find the courage to look at him with the guilt on her shoulders, she falls back on cursed old habits. "Astarion, my love, I have been busy, too busy, and I am sorry about that but can't we just-"

"Busy? Busy? With what, Tav? What could there possibly be left to do? What is more important than even just saying a gods damned cordial hello in passing? You know Gale came by trying to find you earlier? 'Where's Tav?' He asked and I looked like a fucking idiot without a clue because my own lover won't look at me let alone talk to me. 'Apologies, Gale, I haven't the faintest idea where Tav is-!' He was sympathetic, he was pitying, do you have any idea how mortifying that was? He's going to ask about it, Tav, at-"

"Stop it!" The shout is nearly a scream of frustration and she cannot regret it even when he looks feral in his own damned vindication in getting a rise out of her, she's playing right into his hand; deep down, she's grateful that he can do this, that he isn't afraid to do this. "Stop fucking calling me that. You never call me that. I'm sorry I've not been around, okay? I miss you, I miss you, you fucking idiot, but I have been trying to process the fact I died and that I have nothing left! I just keep losing everything. Not for one second have I wanted this, you're right, I have imprisoned you in this house and I- I have nothing left… nothing to give you, no leads to follow, nothing but my own trauma and my own gods damned ghosts. Can you honestly say this is what you signed up for? To have to look after me when I cannot think, when I cannot even get out of bed because of the pain? In the space of so many months I have lost everything I had. I- You all were a family to me, you became everything, I would have done anything for any of you and now where are they? I'm alone, again. And I didn't even get to say goodbye."

She squeezes her eyes shut against the prickling of tears, hides in her hands and drops into a crouch right there on their upstairs landing outside their bedroom doors. Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.

"Nothing." Astarion's echo of her is empty, cold as the void of the Astral Plain. "Well. At least you're not pretending anymore, I suppose."

She scratches her fingers into her hair, forehead to her knees, and digs in with her nails to the short hairs that are doing a horrendous job at growing back. She honestly has forgotten about the sensitive scars until they sting and she's already letting go but Astarion is faster. He's on her in an instant, yanking her wrists away in a vice grip as he holds them to his chest. She glares up at him as he crowds over her, lips pulled back over his fangs in a snarl.

"Stop it, you fool!" Astarion yanks her into the curve of his body, twisting her to wrap his arms tight around her, back to his chest, wrists pinned to her own chest now in a cross.

She grunts and kicks her legs out in front of her, wriggling to try and break free but he has no problem holding on. He continues growling into her ear telling her to stop, to relax, to get it together. There's been moments, like this, since she woke up with half a brain still mush and a body lethargic no matter how much she sleeps. Moments when she cannot do it, this thing called coping or living or surviving, when she's fighting for her life on a brain above the sea again. When she wants it to just stop and that means winning the fight. Sometimes it's darker. A desire heavy and thick like wading through treacle in her mind as she craves and end to sensation, no more thoughts, no more arguing, no more having to try because if she doesn't try then who is going to try for her? No one. No one will. No one ever has.

Astarion is normally softer, more patient, gentler when he has to hold her still. Normally the words he repeats are comforting promises of peace. Normally he isn't accusing her of getting bored of him, of wanting to leave him. Normally…normally she trusts him not to leave her in the aftermath.

"Let me go, Astarion, let me go, please, if you're going to do this then just go, I don't want to do this to you, to us. If you want to go it's okay, I promise, it's okay, you can just tell me. Please just tell me," she begs, chin to her chest.

He exhales heavily and it flows through her. "You know I hate being the sensible one but since you're not stepping up, I guess you leave me no choice."

A sob escapes her as his chin drops onto the top of her head, at the start of her scars.

"When did you last sleep?"

It's not what she expects. Maybe that's why she tells him the truth.

"I can't."

"Right. And where have you been?"

Another sob. "I- it's stupid-"

"Tavaril," the edge is back in his voice, she buckles instantly.

"I can't find his grave," she cries, shaking in his hold as he settles more comfortably around her, legs cradling around her own; he starts to rock them ever so gently back and forth, like she does for him after a nightmare or memory. "I don't remember where they said they would bury him, I didn't go, I didn't- I didn't and all I could see when- when I was dying was him and he's lost. He's lost and he's haunting me, I can't let him go again."

"Oh darling…"

"I can't be- be happy, Astarion, it doesn't work that way. It has never worked that way. I lost him, I let him die whilst I fucking /slept/ and then you- I've ruined you! I've made you just as much a slave to me and my protection as you were to him after promising you what you wanted and then I died and then- then it hit me that I'm going to die again, Astarion, again and there won't be any coming back from that one!"

"...I forgot how much you can talk. It's all absolute shit, of course, but you can really keep it up when you get going."

She screams in frustration and tries to fight her way out again but he holds her tight until the energy seeps away once more, leaving her boneless and cold. After a moment Astarion clears his throat.

"It seems I owe you an apology, my dear. I may have let my own…insecurities," he says the word with a frown she can feel but not see as he hides his face in her neck, "rule my judgment. Though I am not alone in that, it seems. You are nothing like him, my sweet, and it…it pains me to know you think that about yourself. You have your ghosts and I have my own, seven odd thousand of them are in fact actually possibly looking for me so I think I have you beat there."

"I'm not lying," she whispers.

"No, you're not, are you? You damnably honest thing."

"Let me go…"

"You don't actually want me to, do you? Tell me you want me to leave, all else and I will stay. I will stay and you will sleep, in my arms, on my chest or on your own and I will lie on your back as you like. I- We will look together for his resting place. And you will eat. You will rest. You and I will stay here in this frankly hideous house and redecorate to make it liveable and you will remind me that if nothing else, I can protect you from yourself. We have time, Elizia. I promised you we would give planning our next adventure before diving into it a go and I'm not one for breaking promises. You don't have to do anything but rest and recover right now, darling, we will go looking for trouble and artifacts or spells or scrolls when we are both ready."

She shudders, curling her legs up and pushing back into him, reassured by his strength of presence. His words are honey sweet and missing all of the insincerity she used to be so used to. She's an idiot. An exhausted, forever in physical pain nowadays, self-sabotaging idiot.

"Why are you laughing, you weirdo? Do you have a single sane emotion in you at the minute or do I need to take you to get looked at, not that I imagine much can be done that hasn't already."

"I once thought," she says even though she probably shouldn't, "that we'd never get here."

"Yes, I know, you thought you were going to die. It was only a month and a bit ago, darling. You truly have a knack for making a painful conversation worse."

"No, no, I thought we'd never be here. Where I'd- I couldn't say what I want and you'd know anyway. You'd hear me anyway."

He scoffs and prompts her to turn around. She goes, lets him manouver her to face him and he immediately crawls into her lap, straddling her legs. He's taller than her already but like this he has an extra inch or so. She wraps her arms around his back tentatively, tears drying on her cheeks until he brushes them away.

"I'm not leaving. So don't leave me either, Elizia, please. I'm not above begging for this. Not anymore. I spent too long thinking you died because of my monstrous needs to think I could ever really want to be parted from you. Self-sacrificing moron that you are trying to be."

"I don't know how to keep you, how to fix things," she says pitifully, looking up into his earnest expression like a penitent searching for absolution in the idol of their god. "I couldn't face leaving but I couldn't tell you to go either, even to save you. It's been so long since I remembered him so clearly and now I can't stop. He's driving me to destruction and I don't want to ruin you anymore than I already have. I promised you sunlight and I'm breaking my promise."

"Stop saying you've ruined me, would you? You're giving yourself far too much credit for everything that happened. I made my choices, you played a part, yes, but they were my choices, my actions. And you don't need to fix anything. Nothing is broken. I've lived two hundred years in the dark, in far, far worse conditions than this. You know that. You saw the state of the palace. You read their shitty little diaries, heard what Bodey said. Elizia, we have a home, we have…ugh friends, don't tell Gale I said that. I have a lover, a partner who is my equal and who I know, moments like this aside, has seen me at my worst and still trusts me, still cares for me."

"Loves you. Who loves you."

For the first time in so long she gets to see his smile, genuine and soft.

"Who loves me, yes."

"I shouldn't have said what I did. You're right. I have so much…so, so much."

"And just to check, you are including me in that, yes?"

She swats his arm before holding his hand, blushing a little when he presses his thumb into her palm like she does for him so often. "I don't know, that depends on if I'm still wanted. Screwed up as I am after everything. You've…I've been making you carry more than your fair share of all of this since the move. I should be pulling my weight better. I want to pull my weight, not just chase after one of my problems to avoid another."

He quirks a brow and she backpedals gracelessly.

"No! That's not what I meant. Stop being a bastard, that's not what I meant and you know it. You're not a problem. I promise."

"I don't know, I thought you rather liked how much of a bastard I am," he teases, pulling his most offended pout even as she swats at him again.

"Shut up," she grumbles, dropping her weight back to flop onto the floorboards fully. "See if I apologise again."

He runs his fingers mindlessly over her ribs, up around her chest, grazes the skin on show but retreats to the safety of fabric. "I accept your apology, my cantankerous darling. And I apologise too for assuming the worst of you. That was…"

"Understandable, it was understandable, Astarion. I needed pushing. Gods know how long I would have kept it up if you hadn't."

"Hmm…perhaps."

"Can we talk about the rest of it tomorrow? I am actually exhausted."

"Sulking your way round the city on your own does tend to have a depressing effect on a person," he muses, not making any start towards moving. "I've heard it's less so with company though."

Elizia drops her hands on top of his thighs, just resting them there as she looks up at him, apparently puzzled by his obvious offer. "You truly want to go traipsing around graveyards all day- night, sorry? You?"

"I am a vampire if you'll remember, I've done my fair share of graverobbing."

"You have not."

"Have too." He retorts. "People get buried with all sorts of treasures. As you well know, darling."

She yawns unexpectedly, her eyes stay closed afterwards. Like this, with the comforting weight of Astarion above, she feels like a cat luxuriating in a sunbeam, utterly drained of all the tension of the past couple days. Well. Months. "You can prove nothing in a court of law," she says sleepily.

"Not without indicting myself, I suppose."

"My point exactly. Can we sleep here tonight? I don't think I can move anymore."

He shifts his weight and she swears if she could purr she gods damned would be as he carefully settles himself on top of her, head tucked under her chin, legs entwined sort of awkwardly with her own.

"Only so long as it doesn't become a habit. We finally have actual, honest to god, good beds and you still want to sleep on the bloody ground."

"Just leave me here when you get uncomfortable or bored if you're not gonna sleep."

"Yes because that will be so good for you, darling."

"Carry me then, I don't care. I'll be asleep."

"...Elizia."

"Astarion."

"Are…"

She cracks an eye open, concerned, and buries a hand in his curls, petting them as soothingly as she knows how. "Astarion," she repeats, softly pressing for him to continue.

He clears his throat to put it off a moment longer. "I simply meant to ask whether we are…okay?"

"Whether we're okay?"

"If you could refrain from the mimicry for the current moment, that'd be much appreciated."

She winces. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just…how do you mean? I think we're okay. I'm okay, well. No. But. Right now, I'm alright, honestly. Are you?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Just…not used to… Getting things wrong used to be much more dangerous. For me. It wasn't…well, it certainly never ended with a cuddle and apologies, that's for sure."

"Oh… I… I see. Do you…" biting her lip, she gently untangles a snare in the curls by his ear. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not tonight. Can we just…" he doesn't finish, falling into his own thoughts, beyond her reach; she lets him go, trusts that he'll come back, when he's ready, when he can.

She can't remember falling asleep but when she stirs sometime later, still half in a dream, she turns over in her own bed and finds red eyes glinting in the candlelight shining from her bedside table. They're perusing a book but drift down to her as she blinks slowly, ever so slowly, fighting off the cotton clouds of rest long enough to shuffle closer to Astarion. She wraps herself around his nearest leg and clumsily moves to rest her cheek on his thigh, ready to go back to sleep. Cool fingers stroke across her braid and stay there, supporting her neck in her awkward angle of choice so she doesn't slip back down at least while she's conscious enough to grouch about it. She thinks she mumbles a thank you but can't be sure before she's floating away again, peacefully content.

[myfairstarlight]

For Every Question Why (You Were My Because) - Chapter 1

AO3 Link // Next

Rated: T (for now)

Chapter length: 4k

Role Reversal/Roleswap AU. Summary:

In an attempt to protect the angel Aziraphale has found himself smitten with, he accidentally starts the Rebellion earlier than divinely intended. Now Fallen as a demon who walks the Earth under the name of Astrophel, he seeks to move on and make the best of his situation which is proven to be difficult when the angel he sought to once protect and who barely spared him a glance Before keeps seeking him out over the years, guilt pouring out of the angel's every word and action. Surely, nothing wrong can result from this predicament.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Before.

Time had no true bearing in their existence, and yet everything seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye. Aziraphale witnessed the creation of the universe, stars bursting right before their eyes, and suddenly here they were, as Time stood still for Judgement after a tenuous rebellion that turned into a full-blown War.

Lucifer stood in front of them all, arms outstretched as if attempting to protect them, protect them like Someone Else should be doing. Aziraphale looked upon the sea of angels surrounding them then up to the Archangels, their wings and halos on full victorious display. Gabriel and Michael seemed to shine the brightest as together they prepared the Fallens’ upcoming punishment, and Aziraphale could see a familiar face next to Raphael who looked down on the crowd, brow furrowed with concern.

In their shared moment among the stars, Aziraphale had forgotten the status the angel they so admired possessed. Janiel was a Seraphim often standing next to the Archangels, perhaps they never needed to be protected. Perhaps this was all futile, perhaps this could have been avoided. Aziraphale chuckled to themself and looked down. They did not regret it, however, perhaps it would be freeing, to not worry so much about what She thinks.

(And they refused to show fear, if a Fallen they must become, then they shall hang on to their Pride and Dignity for no one could take that away from them, not even the Almighty.)

And as their wings failed them when the clouds parted beneath their feet and brilliant light became all darkness around them, Aziraphale embraced it, they closed their eyes in acceptance even as they burned and bled ichor, and held their heart in their open palms as they dove into sulphury pits.

For, out of spite, they would carry Love until the very End (and Beyond).

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

At the beginning. Eden.

A lone demon stands on top of the Eastern Gate, pondering at the horizon when they hear the flutter of an angel's wings to their right. They usually would have flown away instantly but they cannot sense any hostility from the celestial being so they stay put, a little curious.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” says a new voice.

Aziraphale frowns. “Pardon?”

“I said, that went down like a lead balloon,” the voice is now much closer and sounds rather familiar.

“Oh, it's you,” Aziraphale says, turning around to face the angel. “Janiel.”

Janiel hums. “It is… and you…”

Awkward silence follows until Aziraphale understands they were meant to fill in the pause.

“Oh! Call me Astrophel, I suppose.” Astrophel. Aziraphale had come up with the name on the spot when Satan was about to name them instead— it sounded close enough to their angel name and they feared what Satan could have come up with when the demon in front of them on the line ended up with Furfur.

(They have nothing against Furfur as a demon, they just think the name sounds quite silly.)

Another shorter pause.

“You suppose? You don’t like it?” Janiel asks.

Aziraphale frowns. Are they that obvious about it? “Not really, but I cannot use my God-given name, She has forsaken me, after all.” Why were they being so honest?

“Then who says you can’t?” Janiel points out. “It was a pretty name, after all.”

Another goddamned pause. “You remember it?”

“Of course I do, Aziraphale,” Janiel answers quickly. There is a softness and sadness to their words. Something uncomfortable yet warm settles in Aziraphale’s chest.

“I fear it’s still Astrophel to you.”

Now disappointment fills the air. “Right, sorry.”

Aziraphale fiddles with their fingers. “So. Are we not addressing what just occurred?” they ask. “Adam and Eve escaped from the gate you were guarding after I tempted them to eat that Fruit and you’re strangely… calm about it. Come to think of it, there was a massive hole in the wall, or so I was told, how come you did not fix it?”

(The temptation was an accident, truth be told. Aziraphale had let themself be guided by the delicious scent of the apples gathered in the middle of the Garden and, feeling quite peckish, tried to take one with their beak. Eve just happened to be near and saw them, so Aziraphale offered the apple, comically cradled in one feathered wing.

“But it is forbidden,” she had said even as she welcomed the owl onto her shoulder.

“Why, dear, no one is guarding it, it is free for the taking,” the owl answered.

And so the Original Sin was committed.)

“Um…” Aziraphale can hear the angel nervously shuffle and twist the fabric of their robe. “I punched that hole myself and told them to go quickly…”

“You— you what?”

“You heard me perfectly, Astrophel.” Ah. Janiel sounds annoyed now. “I mean! It didn't seem fair to leave them trapped here, did it? If they wanted to go out, then so be it. That's their choice, and who am I to deprive them of that?”

“A Seraphim and the guardian of the gate meant to keep them in.”

Janiel winces. “Well, perhaps— even so! The Almighty would have cast them out as soon as She heard of this so it was better that they escape instead, I think. I just… don't understand what's so bad about them now knowing the difference between good and bad anyway.”

“But I made them eat the Fruit, though,” Aziraphale reminds them. “Remember? I do hope I did not accidentally do something good… I'm a demon, you lots were supposed to stop me or something? In fact, why haven't you smitten me on sight?”

“... I recognised you, and didn't want to.”

That uncomfortable and warm feeling is back in Aziraphale's chest and they ignore it once more.

“Perhaps you did the wrong thing then," the demon says.

“And you did the right one?”

“Would be an ironic predicament—”

“Why does Adam have a flaming sword?!” the angel exclaims suddenly. Aziraphale flinches at the outburst. “Where did that come from?!”

Aziraphale hears the crackling of fire beside them and they suppose the angel has summoned their own flaming sword, as if making sure it didn't go missing.

The demon suddenly looks up, badly feigning innocence as they feel Janiel look at them intensely.

“That was you, isn't it?”

Aziraphale can't quite place their tone. Not exactly accusatory, more curious. “Mm.”

“You managed to keep the sword you were given as an angel only to give it away to humans?”

Which meant something else neither of them wanted to address out loud.

Aziraphale didn’t fight.

“Such a dangerous power in that man's hand ought to be interesting,” Aziraphale sniffs. “I just thought it would be… chaotic, entertaining.”

(Well, the truth is, Eve was already expecting and Aziraphale knew the wild animals their fellow angels had created Before to surround the Garden and make it as hostile and dangerous as possible, never mind that the Almighty had strangely insisted pregnancy would need to be long and tenuous at a human standard, but the demon was not about to admit all that to the angel next to them.)

A pause.

“I don't believe that,” Janiel states bluntly.

“Believe whatever you want, dear.”

The bellowing scream of a dying lion echoes through the desert followed by exclamations of glee from Eve and a victory cry from Adam.

Aziraphale forgets to refrain from smiling.

“I think you wanted to protect them! So they can defend themselves!” Janiel exclaims then with childish glee. The demon winces.

“Don’t—”

Aziraphale takes a step back when they feel the angel try to get closer in their excitement before sensing droplets of water falling on them. Instinctively, the demon lifts their right wing, sheltering Janiel beneath it.

Aziraphale closes their eyes then, bathing in the silence only interrupted by the gentle plops of the droplets against the gate, against the leaves, against their tired wings. They can picture it so vividly still in their mind, Earth, people, everything they helped create before being cast down before sight was taken from them. They even remember which angel created rain, along with rivers and tears, and they wonder quietly if that angel is still in Heaven or has become a demon and they simply haven’t crossed paths again.

Aziraphale has always had a good memory.

“Astrophel, for all that’s worth, I’m sorry, for what happened.” Guilt radiates from the angel and Aziraphale sniffs. Guilt stinks, they learn now.

“I forgive you.”

The demon doesn't see the way the angel crumbles at the words. They don't see the way the angel tries to catch their eyes, only to notice that the once bright blue eyes they had dismissed before are now just staring ahead, bored, distracted. And they don't see the way Janiel clutches their heart and curses themself for being a coward who stayed quiet after all.

Aziraphale chuckles suddenly. “Just messing with you dear, you've got nothing to be sorry for. You're not the one who cast me down.”

A half-lie. Janiel stood alongside the Archangels and watched, after all.

“It must be some sort of misunderstanding though. You of all angels—”

“I have to stop you right there, dear. Don't get yourself into more trouble because of me. You'll have enough to deal with once they hear of this.”

“But—”

“I'm not worth it, Janiel.”

The conversation ends there just as the rain gives way to the sun. Janiel watches as Aziraphale shakes their head slightly, getting rid of the wetness in their curls.

Then the demon vanishes away as if they were never there.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Outside The Garden. After The Beginning.

Being a demon, as it turns out, is quite different from being an angel, Aziraphale comes to realise. Whereas he used to have very specific instructions on his tasks as an angel, Beelzebub now only tells him to “go cause some mischief on Earth” and then leaves him alone to do so until he is dragged back to report. He’s not sure yet if that is a good thing or not, however.

The lands outside The Garden are bare. He feels the warm sand beneath his feet with a pout, wondering where are the forests and meadows he had worked on, wondering if God had dismissed the concepts after the War. Or perhaps they are places humanity is yet to find and thus he has no reason to seek them out either until then. As he walks, time passes. Towns get built, rivers are born as the land shakes, life rises seemingly out of nowhere and Aziraphale witnesses it all.

After some time simply wandering, a demon comes to Aziraphale’s side.

“Astrophel,” he recognises Hastur’s voice. “Word is that Adam and Eve’s first children are at odds.”

Aziraphale hums, accepting the untold mission — mess with the brothers and further the chaos. Hastur disappears at once and Aziraphale takes his owl form to travel faster through the deserted fields until he finds the village.

And then, he senses quite a generous amount of divine energy surrounding Cain and Abel’s houses. The demon frowns, perching himself on a tree branch. Somehow, he’s able to crunch his beak as the scent of decay hits him.

Abel is killing his cattle?

“Astrophel?” an angelic voice calls and Aziraphale startles when he finds himself held in soft palms. He squawks and immediately flies away to turn back into his human-like form. “It is you, sorry, I wasn’t sure—”

“Janiel,” Aziraphale recognises the guilt stinking the air now with ease. “Refrain from doing that, please.”

He chastises himself in his mind. What kind of demon says please?

“I just never saw you as an owl before! Well, I did, from afar when you— anyway, what are you doing here?”

Again, the angel is awfully… friendly, and talking as if he was delighted to find a demon here.

“I could ask you the same.” Aziraphale fusses over his robe, waiting for the inevitable bolt of smiting that should be heading for him. “I was told the brothers were having… issues. I’m smelling death and decay already and I haven’t done anything yet.”

He doesn’t get an answer for a good while, he can’t even hear the other supernatural being breathe. Aziraphale thinks Janiel simply just left but then a hand grabs his arm and drags him away. He gasps, his first instinct is to struggle and try to get away but then he feels it. Or rather, Her. God’s presence is suddenly descending on Abel’s house. A shudder of fear grips him against his will as he lets Janiel guide him away.

It feels like forever until Janiel finally stops and lets go of him.

“They’re making sacrifices,” the angel says, which doesn’t explain anything at all.

“Sacrifices?” Aziraphale repeats. “To Satan? I would have heard of it.”

He feels the very obvious discomfort from the angel. “No. To God. Cain gives Her his best crops, and Abel gives Her his best sheep. Last week it was the cows I think…”

“... She doesn’t even need to eat, why would they do that?”

He doesn’t see but can guess Janiel is giving him an annoyed glance. “Anyhow, I’ve been trying to stir Abel away from killing his animals and Cain into giving his crops to the rest of the village instead but… they’re both very stubborn and want to earn Her favour again after their parents lost it. And it seems She has noticed them.”

Aziraphale hums. “And where did they hear about making sacrifices being the solution?”

A pause. “I was… I was assuming that was your doing, or at least Hell’s.”

“Afraid not, dear,” Aziraphale says. He will surely take credit when filing the paperwork later, though… it might allow him to be left alone for a while if they think he’s somehow convinced humans that sacrifices could also be made to Heaven.

“But no fear, surely now She will tell them what an absurd act this was—” Janiel cuts himself off and Aziraphale now feels horror clinging to the angel’s skin. “She blessed Abel.”

Huh.

“It seems this has been going on longer than you've been here, then,” Aziraphale points out.

Maybe he won’t take credit then if She approves of it. Wordlessly, Aziraphale takes his owl form once more and flies back towards Abel’s farm, and indeed, while God’s presence is gone, he can feel the remnants of Her blessings through the propriety, and completely lacking on Cain’s ground when he flies over there instead. In fact, upon spying, he hears the man complain about the poverty of the soil not allowing anything to grow at its full potential and blaming it for his brother getting favoured over him.

Jealousy, fury and desperation swirl in Cain’s head, Aziraphale can feel it so strongly he could almost shape it into the air with his hands. It looks like he doesn’t even need to provoke more discord between these brothers, She is doing it perfectly well on Her own.

(It sounds familiar, he thinks.)

Faintly, he hears Janiel talking with Abel and getting thoroughly ignored for all of the angel’s arguments against killing the poor sheep were proven wrong by God’s appearance. Aziraphale observes — manner of speaking — perched on the farm’s roof. He can sense the angel’s growing distress and despite himself, he stays when he could call it a good day of work.

So eventually, as days pass and he feels the frustration and anger rise within Abel, Aziraphale pulls Janiel aside before he can get Abel definitely crossed with him.

“An advice dear, the more you bother the humans about something they shouldn’t do, the more they’ll want to do it,” Aziraphale tells him. “Keep telling the man he can’t keep killing his sheep for God and he’ll slaughter the whole herd in a day to make a point.”

“But that’s stupid, then he won’t have any sheep left!”

“She blessed him. He will probably find new ones wandering into his farm the next morning. The point is— you need a plan. If it’s not working with Abel, perhaps the other brother is worth considering.”

Janiel lights up at the suggestion. “You’re right!” And before Aziraphale can say anything else, the angel rushes towards Cain’s farm instead.

“Just as impatient as I remember,” Aziraphale comments, much too fondly, fortunately, no one hears him.

So he stays. Turned back into his owl, Aziraphale perches himself on Janiel’s shoulder when the angel visits the brothers and tries to enact his divine influence, with minimal success but Aziraphale doesn’t dare point it out with how excited Janiel always seems. The demon is intrigued, to say the least, because as established, God approves of these sacrifices so really, Cain and Abel should be left alone and yet here Janiel is, trying to prevent them. Telling Cain God appreciates his gifts as well but the village would do so even more. Telling Abel that killing his sheep is all well and good, but eventually, he may not have enough livestock for the winter season to come. Sure, it is not explicitly against God’s wishes, but it is… implied. And Janiel is as carefree and confident as ever, so unafraid of the consequences that might fall on him.

If any consequences there even are for him, favoured as he is by the Archangels. Aziraphale does wonder, sometimes. Considering the powerful celestial energy still surrounding the angel, he hasn’t been demoted following Adam and Eve’s escape, or perhaps Janiel… lied to get away with it. But that’s a ludicrous thought, angels don’t lie.

A week passes, and Janiel and Aziraphale sit on the roofs of Abel and Cain’s farms, respectively. Aziraphale dangles his legs in the space separating the two houses and supposes Janiel is doing the same on his side.

Aziraphale tilts his head backwards, listening intensely to Cain’s tired steps as he gathers his crops, his cuts shorter and less precise than usual. He can feel exhaustion and anger still brewing in his heart.

“Do you reckon Abel was also favoured by Adam and Eve?” the demon asks suddenly.

Janiel’s wings bristle. “I hope not. Why?”

“Ah. Just wondering. He seems used to being in his brother’s shadow. Undervalued. Forgotten.”

“You knew Adam and Eve, they’d never neglect their kid,” the angel states confidently.

Aziraphale grimaces. He wishes he did not doubt that.

(The way he started doubting—)

As if summoned by his thoughts, he feels Her presence descending upon Earth once more and Aziraphale promptly transforms into his animalistic form just as Janiel reaches forward and grabs him, hiding him, immaculate white owl feathers blending in perfectly with the angel’s robe.

Then everything happens all at once before Aziraphale can even process the feeling of Janiel’s arms around him and protecting him so fiercely. God blesses Abel once more, dismisses Cain, and then promptly leaves. Cain, still with his scythe in hand, gets blinded by rage and dashes through the short distance separating him from his brother.

Aziraphale is abruptly let go and almost crashes into the ground while Janiel’s voice, suddenly a distant sound, cries out a desperate “No!”. The demon smells it before it happens, the horrid stench of fury and murder and death.

(Aziraphale has a vivid flashback then, of the angel who created Death. They were one of his only friends, back then, in the Human Department. Passionate, bright, and wanted to test out every Concept they created or came across. When Aziraphale shaped Love after meeting a certain Seraphim, that other angel was eager to bathe in it and Aziraphale had indulged them. But then, the angel was asked to come up with a Concept that would allow humans to regulate their population, to counter Breeding. Death, or Azrael as they were named outside of their function, was thus born, the entity needed a test run to make sure it worked as intended and the angel—)

Aziraphale winces as Abel’s pained scream echoes into the air along with the continuous sound of Cain stabbing his gradually weakening body, over and over again.

He should enjoy this, a voice in his head that sounds strangely like Lord Beelzebub’s says, the despair, the betrayal, the chaos. He’s Astrophel, a demon, the demon of Forbidden Knowledge, bearer of bad news and a reminder of the awful nature of reality to send humans into despair and give in to temptation. And he wants to puke.

With effort, and with great reluctance, he stands up and makes his way towards the rapidly potent smell of rotting flesh.

(He needs something that could help him walk around, he thinks, he won’t be able to only rely on his demonic senses if he wants to blend with humans later on.)

As he approaches, he finally picks up Janiel’s frantic whispers and Aziraphale shivers as he senses the power emanating from the angel, desperate. Time stands still, except for him and the angel.

“Janiel,” Aziraphale calls. He hears the faintest of gasp. “He’s already gone. You can’t— you know we can’t. Death won’t be long now, to come collect him.”

“... I could have stopped Cain but my miracles didn’t manage to calm him.”

“When emotions are heightened, humans can be immune to our powers,” Aziraphale says, a bit gloomily. “The Almighty wanted them to have some sort of powers of their own so they're not just glorified puppets.”

Although they kind of are, the voice of Lord Beelzebub buzzes in his mind again.

“Well, it would have been nice to know beforehand,” Janiel scoffs.

“I thought you did.”

It is a decent assumption, Janiel was assigned to Earth for a reason, wasn’t he? Aziraphale was lucky enough to be assigned here full-time instead of Hastur precisely because of his previous involvement in the Human Department as an angel. Janiel oversaw the creation of the galaxies but if he’s monitoring Earth now instead of looking over his precious stars, Aziraphale wonders why when it seems like the humans are all so… surprising and new to him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Janiel,” Aziraphale says gently.

“Then whose is it?!” the angel replies, rightful anger and grief pouring out of his tired lips.

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

They both look up then, towards an endless blue sky. No words are needed.

“I suppose it must be part of some Grand Plan,” the demon muses. He may have lost faith in Her, but he still has the firm belief that She has an ineffable plan no one knows. That all this must mean something, even if that something may just be a game for an entity with such power who happens to be bored.

He misses the way Janiel just frowns, fists clutching the fabric of his robe where dried blood stains the immaculate white.

“I guess so,” the angel answers, hollow, tired. “I wonder…”

“Mm?”

“You… you didn’t… you didn’t influence Cain, right?”

For some reason, Aziraphale feels a part of him break where pride should burst out at the subtle accusation. “You were there at all times, dear, you would have noticed if I did.”

“Right… sorry. You tried to help me I shouldn't have—”

“Don’t apologise, I’m flattered you thought me capable of such deceit,” he lies through his teeth. And with those simple words, he turns around and flies away.

Cain would go on to become the symbol of the birth of evil for humans. Aziraphale makes sure to leave some whispered stories behind about how he was just a man, neither good nor evil, abandoned by God and laughed at by Satan.

(He also gets a commendation for Abel’s murder; although the man is now in Heaven, Cain is secured to be in Hell when his time comes. Aziraphale doesn’t correct Hell but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He supposes at least Cain will be reunited with his parents.)

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Hell

“Gotta give it to him, I did not expect Astrophel to do so well, especially against a Seraphim,” Beelzebub comments, reading the report once more. Humanity’s first murder, done right under God’s nose as well, and with the owlish demon escaping with no blatant injury.

“What ticks me,” Dagon starts, “is why Heaven even sent a Seraphim on Earth in the first place. Janiel, on top of that. These fuckers think groundwork is beneath an angel of that status.”

“Janiel was never known to know how to keep in place or follow orders,” Hastur chimes in. “It’s a wonder how he didn’t Fall.”

“It is a wonder,” Beelzebub agrees, then stands up, effectively ending the meeting. Dagon and Hastur promptly leave while the Prince of Hell still holds Astrophel’s report in their hands, thinking.

Janiel indeed has never been known to be quite the typical obedient angel, Beelzebub knew him Before, they were close friends, even — but Beelzebub could not stand Metatron who was so often by Janiel’s side so Beelzebub always kept a safe distance anyway — and they were so convinced Janiel would Fall with them and yet. Astrophel, on the other hand… Beelzebub recalls only speaking to him once Before, poor, anxious but eager Cherubim, it seems the Fall has given him a bit of the confidence he was lacking as an angel, but Beelzebub is more than aware that Astrophel stuck out as an anomaly within their ranks during Judgement, even if the demon then insisted on being put on Earth to prove his worth — there is also the fact that his memories from Before seem untouched, as opposed to the other demons who used to work in the Human Department as well so Beelzebub’s and Satan’s choices for Hell’s Earth agent were limited anyway. All that to say, there was no way he and Janiel had known each other, however, their statuses wouldn’t have allowed it.

But then again, Janiel was never one to pay attention to the hierarchy and there are too many anomalies surrounding Astrophel, which the demon doesn’t seem aware of himself. So perhaps…

At last, Beelzebub leaves their office and immediately heads for the Torture Department.

“You,” they call, pointing at a demon near the entrance leisurely playing with moths flying around the small flame in the palm of her hand. She doesn’t startle, just merely lifts her head. “Remind me your name.”

“Mara, My Lord,” she answers. “What is it?”

Beelzebub sets Astrophel’s report down on her desk. Mara tilts her head, squinting at the piece of parchment.

“I have a mission for you,” Beelzebub announces. “I have a suspicion that Astrophel might be a weakness in a certain angel that we can exploit, but I need to be sure of it.”

“So… you want me to spy on them? You can’t do that with your flies?” Mara asks.

“They’re too noisy,” Beelzebub groans. A fault in their designs, they have to admit that. “Astrophel would notice immediately. Your moths, on the other hand…”

The lower-ranked demon hums and grins. “Alright, sounds fun.”

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

[korereapers]

Title: Call me (Little Sunshine)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: D&D, Original stuff

Pairing: Ohmrom von Allmen/Barkilara

Based on this song, of course.

Warnings: Devil/Human smut, expect some things that are not... very nice (but it's loving, nevertheless)

A little explanation of the fic: When Ohmrom loses his powers because of PLOT ISSUES, he goes back on a sacred mission to the Nine Circles of Hell... To get his pact back. AKA he wants to get dick

AO3

Blood drips against the floor, seconds before a way too warm tongue traces the wound, a dangerous mouth full of sharp teeth gently sucking on it.

Ohmrom isn't looking at him, his eyes on the ground, kneeling before the devil. He is tired, emotionally drained, but this is the way he wants it.

"Hell, I really missed your taste."

Something burns inside of Ohmrom, his knees trembling, but he still doesn't move.

"You may not have my faith," he starts, his voice wavering. "But you have my loyalty. If this serves to rekindle our… bond…"

Barkilara lets out a laugh, a big hand still holding Ohmrom's wrist, the wound closing slowly as he drinks from him, exactly the amount he needs, feeling Ohmrom's exhaustion.

"I knew you were a fool, but… coming to me to make another pact with me. Really, human?"

Ohmrom sighs, looking up slightly, still too nervous to face him, physically, for a long time. Red skin, proud horns and muscles. Chains around him, for those he has wrapped around his finger. Maybe Ohmrom himself is one of them. He finds himself not caring.

"I have never been too… bright."

"You can be impulsive. I never said I didn't like that."

Ohmrom's face seems to heat up, yellow eyes scrutinizing him with something Ohmrom cannot quite read.

"I missed you," he whispers, even if he is sure that Barkilara can hear everything. This is his domain, after all. That's him, putting himself in danger, and running straight to a certain death… or worse. Just because he missed him, his sassy comments, his ancient wisdom, his care, the way he took his body and soul and made him feel that everything was fine. That he was fine, that he deserved the affection and hunger in immortal eyes.

He swears that Barkilara's expression becomes a little softer.

Ohmrom is still holding the dagger when Barkilara speaks into his mind, a silent request engraved into his brain. Ohmrom kisses him, tasting his own blood, a big hand on his back as the devil deepens the kiss, so warm it makes him feel feverish.

"Onir… so that's how your skin feels."

Sharp teeth edge around his lower lip for a second. A warning.

"Do not mention his name while you're here. It's only me and you."

There is an unsaid promise in that sentence, and Ohmrom can feel his stomach clenching in excitement. He nods, letting himself be kissed, big fingers with sharp fingernails keeping him close, tangled in his brown hair.

"Call me, and I'll come for you. That's more than he has ever done."

"That's… yeah. Okay."

He is not very eloquent when he is nervous. Insecure and timid, that may be part of his charm, but he becomes speechless when someone he cares about talks to him with such intensity. For better or worse.

His armor falls to the ground with ease, but he is still holding the dagger. Barkilara takes it from his hand and places it on his improvised throne. He may not be a devil prince, or anything close to that, but that doesn't stop him from being full of himself.

"How… it takes me ages to put it on."

Barkilara smiles against his neck, just below his ear.

"Centuries of torture, sunshine. I know your kind really well."

Jealousy bites him from the inside, and Barkilara sucks on his neck with vehemence. He could just kill him, even more now that he is in his realm, and yet… he can almost feel his eagerness to touch him, similar to Ohmrom's.

"Relax. Not the kind of torture I have reserved for you."

His words are weirdly compelling, and even if Ohmrom knows it may be some kind of spell, he doesn’t resist. He feels his muscles relaxing, his mind clear as a hand pushes him downwards with ease, almost gently, making him kneel yet again.

“But you’re going to have to use that sweet, silver tongue of yours to get what you want.”

Ohmrom blinks slowly, shaking hands trying to reach Barkilara’s pants, unbuttoning them with impatience. His head is guided towards the devil’s groin, letting out his breath just before he opens the fly.

He takes him without thinking, his previous annoyance gone in a second. A big hand guides him, keeping him in place at times, making it harder to breathe.

“Use your nose. We have talked about this.”

He feels like a scolded child, but he obeys without question. He still gasps for air when Barkilara pulls him away, his chin wet with saliva, their eyes finding each other just before he is pushed forwards again, not as hard as before, letting him do as he pleases.

He likes the way the eternal body tenses up, how breath seems to fail him from time to time, the steady grip on his nape faltering a little when Ohmrom does something especially nice with his tongue and lips. When he finds the strength to use his hands, still shaking from excitement, Barkilara shows a smile full of teeth.

“There is no need to be nervous. Everything you have to offer, I am more than eager to take it.”

Ohmrom just lets out a small chuckle.

“Likewise…”

He almost feels proud of himself when he feels the devil tense, a sound caught in his throat that Ohmrom can feel deep inside his bones.

“Not as spineless when you’re truly passionate about something…”

“Someone,” Ohmrom corrects him, his eyes unfocused. “I may lack faith in you as a god, but I have devotion to spare.”

That’s enough for Barkilara to make him stop, making him get up yet again, and crashing his lips against Ohmrom’s. It’s somewhere between affectionate and violent, and Ohmrom finds himself moaning against his mouth, a big hand palming him, apparently done with his own pleasure for the moment. Which is a shame, to be completely honest.

The thought makes Ohmrom shiver.

Barkilara doesn't kneel before anyone. The moves him without effort, even if Ohmrom is a sturdy fighter, proficient with martial weapons decades before he even dared to make a pact. Toned legs tense when the rest of his clothes are gone, his knees on Barkilara's throne, strong arms trembling when he grabs it, visibly exposed.

He feels his ears getting red.

"I'm… kind of a mess. I fought my way down here, I'm all sweaty, and bloody, and-"

"Good."

That's the end of the discussion.

The good and bad thing about Barkilara is that he knows him. He has lived in his head for months, maybe years by now. They have been partners in more than one sense for a long time. He knows what makes Ohmrom tick, which buttons to push. Not that Ohmrom doesn't have the same knowledge about him, but he is not, and never will be, cunning enough to test it all. Barkilara knows what Ohmrom likes, and it involves this… evident power imbalance you get when you're in a relationship with a being that is millenia older than you, who is also a hundred times more powerful.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Overthinking…" is everything Barkilara says before Ohmrom feels his tongue on his neck, tracing an old scar. Barkilara loves those. Proof that he bled, and survived nevertheless. Proof that he will keep surviving. He knows them better than Ohmrom himself, keeping track of them after every fight. Tracing them with different fingers everytime, and now, touching them with his real ones.

"You're taking your sweet time," Ohmrom half complains, almost feeling Barkilara rolling his eyes, just before he feels a smile against his back.

"Anywhere else to be?"

"Yes, I mean no, but-"

He hears a chuckle, and it's embarrassing enough as it is.

"We have both wanted this for a long time. If you were a quick fuck to me, I would have discarded you ages ago."

Fuck it, that's even more embarrassing. That's probably the closest he'll ever get to a confession, and he is fine with it. He doesn't have to talk about what he feels in his brain and body every single day.

"That doesn't mean I don't want a bite."

That, Ohmrom can grant. He relaxes his neck and shoulders, stretching his neck to one side. There is no doubt in his movements, no fear. The devil holds his head, a sulfuric breath on Ohmrom's nape before it's on his neck, drawing a line on it with his tongue.

"Just like that? That easily?"

"I don't really see why not."

Barkilara kisses the spot between his neck and shoulder, his favorite place to drink from.

"Aren't you afraid?"

Ohmrom lets out a dry chuckle.

"I'm always afraid, as you probably know."

There is a smile against his skin, lips sucking on it immediately after, warming it up. He doesn't know if it's for his sake, to make it all feel less intrusive, or if Barkilara has his own reasons. He is not complaining, though.

It does hurt. It always does, his skin sensitive to the intimate pain. In this form, he can almost feel it feeding the devil, his muscles tensing, stronger than before. There is a noise, a wordless concept in Infernal, that Ohmrom feels deep in his bones. It is expressed among whispers as the devil licks his skin downwards, following the blood's trail.

He feels a big hand around his cock, almost dwarfing it. Barkilara's voice sounds positively hungry when he speaks, and Ohmrom feels himself getting harder against his palm.

"That's it… good boy."

They are close, he realizes. So close, it doesn't take much to feel him just behind him, hard as a rock, his hand masturbating him so slowly it's driving him mad. The other hand is on his neck, grabbing his throat without strength, as if he could break him effortlessly. Because he can.

Ohmrom may be a seasoned fighter, but he is still a mortal. He is no match in strength for someone almost twice his size. Barkilara drinks from him like dealing with the sweetest delicacy, and he moans, not so secretly dying to be bent over the throne and fucked raw.

"Nuh-uh. We cannot have that yet. Now that I finally have you here…"

Ohmrom's mind goes blank for a second, his words deep inside of him.

"I… you know I won't last."

A smile curls against his neck just after a particularly wet kiss on his skin.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be done with you just yet."

Ohmrom gulps, the hand on his neck tightening a little. Just a little.

"I can make you beg. You know I can. I can keep going until your body gives up and your mind isn't even fully here anymore."

Ohmrom just nods, trying not to focus too much on his words, trying to keep himself from coming, a thumb on his tip making it fucking harder.

"You would love that, wouldn't you? Aren't we a match made in hell…"

Ohmrom swears that his sight is getting blurry, his breath uneven, voice broken.

"Yeah, I…"

"My sweet, little toy… let me take care of you."

And just like that, he is done. He doesn't know if it's the praise mixed with the slight degradation, or the way he can feel Barkilara's hand tensing around his cock. Maybe it's the calculated tone, the words, the precise effect they have on him. As if he were important, as if he were-

"Good, you're so good."

He almost lets out a whine.

“That wasn’t fair…”

The air in the Nine Circles feels even more stagnant than ever, both the exhaustion of fighting and sex catching up to him. He feels dry blood in different places, and he blinks slowly, trying not to think about it.

“Is that a complaint?”

Ohmrom just sighs, his legs aching because of the posture. He says nothing when Barkilara’s hands help him yet again, making him sit, fingers distractedly caressing his thighs. As if trying to ease the pain a little. He doesn’t register it at first, but he is, indeed, sitting on Barkilara’s throne. They have been having sex on Barkilara’s throne. He perks up, his ears burning in embarrassment and… something else.

He looks up, yellow eyes glinting as the devil licks one of his fingers, seemingly unaware of Ohmrom’s internal turmoil. He knows that’s a lie, though. A big, fat lie.

“I… I don’t know if I can keep ruining your furniture.”

The devil raises his eyebrows, a grin going back to his features.

“Why not? I am ruining you in return. I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

This time, the heat flows everywhere in Ohmrom’s body. He swears he can feel himself blushing in places he didn’t know he could blush. He still opens his mouth, a little bit of cheekiness left in him. Even if his voice is trembling.

“Wouldn’t a fair trade be me ruining you in return?”

And, Onir be damned, he swears there is something in the air the moment he speaks. A click, somewhere, like when Brea or Cash manage to open a lock on their first try. Like one of those tomes Noire manages to crack after hours of study. Like Natura’s smile, bright under the sun, flowers in her hair, as if she understood something about the world that he doesn’t.

And in that moment, he does. He swears he does. He opens his mouth, but says nothing. Barkilara’s expression is intense, but there is no anger there. There is nothing that actually makes sense, nothing that explains the way that Barkilara gets closer to him, making him tilt his head slightly, their lips almost touching.

“You can be bright. Impulsive, but you aren’t bad at reading people, aren’t you?”

Ohmrom knows a liar when he sees one. He is one of them, after all. A coward hiding behind façades and false information. In that sense, Barkilara has always been way more honest than he is.

He does the only rational thing. He closes the gap between them, kissing him eagerly, trying not to think. There is no violence in the kiss, but Barkilara doesn’t seem to have any complaint. Both his desire and his insecurities can be felt in the air, dense as fog.

“Lord. Fuck me. I’m not going back without…”

He feels a smile against his lips. A promise.

“That was the plan from the very beginning.”

He doesn't have to ask him to get rid of his clothes. A pointy tail circles one of his ankles, a warm caress while strong hands position him. Ohmrom doesn't really know when he got hold of one of the convenient bottles he saves in his backpack, the ones that aren't full of blood to drink. The ones for more pleasurable matters.

"I'm not going to give you more than you can handle," Barkilara says, almost smugly, and Ohmrom would like to retort, but he has no reason to. He has felt his length in his mouth, and even if he can probably handle it, it's going to be a tight fit.

"I think I'd like anything you give me…" he manages to mutter, trying not to look too much at the way Barkilara coats his fingers with the oily substance. He can feel his eyes on him, and that's more than enough for his sanity.

"I know."

Even his fingers are bigger than what he is used to. Ohmrom likes bigger men in general, but this is dealing with a whole different species, and he cannot avoid tensing a little when a finger slowly gets inside of him, warmer than it should be.

"Relax…" he hears, and he feels the word in the back of his brain, reverberating inside of every nerve. He doesn't resist, and he can feel his body relaxing, accepting a second finger not long after.

He feels full. His eyes feel a little heavy, his muscles slowly regaining full agency. He tenses around the devil's fingers, the involuntary movement rewarded with a smile.

"I really, really want to feel that around my cock."

The words go straight to Ohmrom's cock, and he swears he is getting a little hard again, the fingers inside of him curling slightly, testing the waters.

The devil knows where and how to touch. He has been exploring his body for some time now, and he has known his mind for a longer time. Ohmrom bites his lower lip, trying not to make any embarrassing noise. Barkilara seems to take it as a personal challenge.

"You cannot win this game. You know that."

Ohmrom knows, but he has always been good at pretending.

"Sorry," he answers without thinking, and it's enough to earn him a chuckle.

The devil's in the details, though, and he can feel it in the way the fingers curl inside of him, the motion slow and calculated. Barkilara's arm tenses, and Ohmrom exhales when he moves, almost melting against the throne when he finds his prostate.

"Fuck, that's…"

Barkilara just hums, smiling slightly wider when Ohmrom grabs his shoulder, not to make him stop, but to get something to hold onto. The hand touches his neck, and then his face, going up to the horns and tracing one of them without thinking. It's only when he feels the devil tense, his skin slightly warmer than before, that Ohmrom stops, his hand trembling in the air.

"I never said you should stop," Barkilara says, a second before Ohmrom apologizes. "That was just unexpected… not unpleasant in the slightest."

It's Ohmrom's turn to smile a little, his hand back on one of the horn's roots. He traces the rough skin, mesmerized, and Barkilara has to remind him whose mind and body is getting wrecked. What’s the status quo of their relationship.

"Comfortable?" He asks, sardonically, and a row straight, human teeth greet him.

"Sorry. I got a little too excited."

The movements of his fingers become rougher, more insistent. Ohmrom lets out a small sigh, and Barkilara quickens the pace, enough to draw a low moan out of him.

The caress on his horns becomes more distracted, but he doesn't let go. Barkilara lets out a chuckle, oddly fond.

"Look at that… you really love it."

There is tension building up in Ohmrom's expression. His face is a little flushed again, drunk with pleasure and feelings that threaten to drown him. He looks at the devil with hungry eyes that remind him of himself. Jaw clenched, sweat on his forehead, biting his lip softly when he is afraid of being too noisy.

Barkilara's other hand travels to Ohmrom's mouth, his thumb effortlessly getting inside. If he is going to try and be silent, he at least wants to be able to feel every noise. For now.

"Bite," the devil orders, yellow eyes darkened with lust. "You won't hurt me."

Ohmrom knows it's a bad idea to be blind with trust, especially if it's towards a being like him. He still muffles his next moan with Barkilara's finger, biting it without holding back. His mouth suddenly tastes like something like blood, and his face goes white with both fear and regret. Barkilara keeps him in place, grabbing his face with the remainder of his fingers.

"Drink it."

Ohmrom does as he is told, his lips stained with the devil's blood, his eyes still wide, his body trembling. Barkilara licks his own lips, a smile back on his face. Ohmrom still doesn’t know, but that’s exactly how they’re sealing their new pact. Drinking from each other until they are linked by blood.

"You look so fucking pretty with my blood on you…"

Ohmrom moans at his words, the massage on his prostate both teasing and calculated.

Barkilara takes the thumb out of his mouth, and Ohmrom's expression seems so genuinely disappointed he wants to kiss him and make it better.

"I want to fuck you so, so bad. Would you like that?"

Ohmrom's words definitely sound like a yes, but his voice is hoarse, uneven. Barely human.

"My sweet, little pet…" Barkilara murmurs, his hand back to Ohmrom's nape, holding him dexterously, his fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him still when he kisses him. Ohmrom opens up to him eagerly, like the most delicate flower, and Barkilara feasts on it like a ravenous beast.

Ohmrom complains about the emptiness inside of him when Barkilara's fingers leave him, but he knows that something better is coming. He obeys when he is told to get up, and lets out a strangled sound when Barkilara sits on his own throne, gesturing him to get closer. A single finger telling him to take a seat on his lap, a promise between his legs, big and proud.

Barkilara's nails not so gently dig on his butt when he sits, Ohmrom's legs around the way too warm body. They have done this many times, in many different bodies, Ohmrom guiding his cock until he feels it slowly penetrating his rim, closing his eyes and enjoying their intimacy, the entangled thoughts and feelings, the pride of having such a powerful being looking at him with those eyes. 

This time feels different, though.

It's not just about the length. The temperature and texture of a devil’s skin is different, and Ohmrom wonders about all of those mortal women getting pregnant by different devils, giving birth to cambions, dying during childbirth most of the time.

Ohmrom can understand how and why someone would willingly have sex with a devil. Barkilara is thick inside of him, slowly pushing himself deeper and deeper, Ohmrom's throat hoarse, his eyes bright with tears because of the intensity of what he is feeling.

He doesn’t cry, but he is awfully close. It’s all a mix between worship and degradation, about sharing your darkest parts and being… understood. About not feeling lonely anymore. Neither of them.

"Good?" The devil asks, his voice not as confident as it usually is, maybe sensing Ohmrom’s emotional turmoil.

"Perfect…" Ohmrom sighs, and Barkilara smiles, his cock pulsating at his words.

He can also like praise, after all.

He can almost feel Ohmrom's thoughts, spilling all over the place. He digs his nails into them, and the kind of satisfaction they bring him could only be compared to the physical sensation they are both feeling. Desperate, overwhelming.

He wants more of it.

The funny thing is that they don't really last long. Their limbs are entwined, hands wanting to be everywhere, Ohmrom's movements messy, Barkilara's ones so precise and yet becoming more and more erratic.

"Fucking tight…" the devil half complains, half praises. He chases Ohmrom's orgasm with insistence, even more when he feels him squirm on his lap, his cock largely ignored while his prostate receives most of the attention. His thrusts are not gentle, but also not quick or brutal like they are both used to. They can't. Not this time.

"Big… you're so…"

Ohmrom's muscles tense around him, and that's enough to push Barkilara over the edge. It's surprising, to say the least, when he had mostly forgotten about his own pleasure, wanting to grant Ohmrom his second orgasm, but not last.

Luckily for him, when he spills himself inside of him, Ohmrom seems to react to it, a tired moan masking the intensity of his own orgasm.

Ohmrom lets out a weak laugh, and Barkilara smiles in return. This human of his, he can be kind of cute when he isn’t even trying.

"Now breathe… and try to cast an eldritch blast."

Ohmrom raises his hand a little, slowly darkening because of the use of his magic. Just another proof of how linked they are. Ohmroms eyes become red, the same as when Barkilara uses his magic, and his hand starts glowing in a crimson color, even darker than it used to be.

"So, the pact…"

"It's done, yes. Rekindled."

Relief washes over Ohmrom's expression, and Barkilara shares the sentiment, but he is still not satisfied. He probably never will be.

"Don't even dare to think I am done with you, though. This was just… an appetizer of sorts."

Ohmrom's smile becomes something between a bashful and an anxious expression.

"You're going to get me killed…"

Barkilara's eyes shine, a finger tracing the human's features, but his expression remains only slightly amused. Confident. In control. Ohmrom closes his eyes, breathing down, enjoying his short rest.

"Nothing you cannot handle, sunshine."

[alyosiuscreightonward]

This is from the Drew Barrymore show with Jack Antinoff.

DB: I knew that I felt comfortable with you. I told you, the thing you always made me feel was at ease. I’m going to carry this conversation a lot. Also, in tandem with my need to tamper down my negative self-talk and…

JA: You have negative self-talk?

DB: It’s been bad my whole life.

JA: What’s your shadow? Does it have an actual form? Like, is it too big or is it too small?

As I was watching the Drew Barrymore show today and she was talking to the lead singer of The Bleachers. It was a deep dive.

I can’t get into it, but dayum yo.

This past Friday, I went to a memorial for a friend/work colleague at the Holy Trinity Parish Church in Lowell. Yes, I got my church on. My empath streak was on full tilt boogie. I felt it. I’m not going to debate you. You will say it was and I would tell you it wasn’t because I know what I felt, period. Full stop.

As I looking inward and I was actually praying for her soul and not to be in pain but I wanted her to rock on. For a moment, a nanosecond, I felt your hands on my shoulders. I heard you whisper. I knew it was you and I won’t debate you. I believe outside our selves that we can manifest beyond ourselves and now matter what we do to prove the cynics wrong.

With your earbud in and you jamming to whatever, I came across your mind. My face popped up. You saw me. We made eye contact and you went back to whatever you were doing. Yet I still knew it was you. That moment was so real. It was as if you were actually standing there. I could feel your breath on the back of my neck. You were there. It wasn’t her or anyone else, period.

People will chime in and say shit, but I know what I know and you can say that it was and mysterious ways and just because I was there in that moment and in Church, it was. Again, I won’t debate you.

Yet when I heard someone say, I know how much you “love…” and my sarcasm came out of my mouth when I said, “…more like my nemesis.” Because we both can’t, cannot and will not accept that nor will we ever cross that line. As I said earlier, that’s on you.

I know our connection is there but we have boundaries to keep. I don’t know exactly how you actually feel though I know what I know. No one can change how I absorb the energy and I do know how to step back from it all and just wait.

Though I’m angry with myself for being like this and having these feelings. I scream in the car and I scream into my pillow because I can’t process the fact that I have these feelings and emotions. I kept them hidden, I put them and completely hid them where the darkest shadows cower. They were never to be seen again by anyone. I muttered to myself that I loathe, detest and even hate you. But when I heard you on the phone, I could hear a change in your voice. It was wonderful to hear that lilt in your voice that night.

I also know that one day, we will most likely go our separate ways and never have another chance. I accept, acknowledge and affirm that will happen. We had it. We had our time together.

I will never have another like you. I will always have those moments where I debase myself and have those negative feelings about myself for having these feelings about you. Fuck!!! Why did this happen to me? I’m fucked.

The other day I was driving to work and on my jukebox playlist and I heard Steve Grand’s “All American Boy.” I then remembered that I had watched the video once before and I never watched it again. It’s also just like “Brokeback Mountain.” I can’t watch it anymore. The cologne you wear is named after a color. I texted you about something trivial yet you responded and I could hear you and I could feel you. I was on the verge of tears, but I sucked it up and then did my job. I spoke to several people and as soon as they left, I went from being pleasant to sullen in the blink of an eye.

Fuck!!! I don’t want these feelings, but they are here and I just can’t stop them. I still can’t understand why. I know that you have “care” and “we” can’t talk about it. I want you to hold me in your arms. I know that you can’t because that’s “Gay.” I don’t know where my feelings will stop. Like Pat Sajak and Vanna White, I don’t where the wheel will stop. I can’t buy a clue. But when you do walk away from me, I want to know, can I get fries with that shake? Can I Super Size for sixty nine cents?

Please don’t be mad on me. I have a feeling that you are exasperated with me. I fight with my demons and just for you I will not allow them to win. The nanosecond of attention you give me is going to get me through the day.

Enough. I CANNOT DODGE THE RAINDROPS OF EMOTIONS!!!

[miraculous-tigereye]

Help Him Out!

The next day was definitely different. I awoke to see everything was just as it was when I laid down, it was almost too perfect. For a moment, I truly believed what happened was a dream. But it couldn’t have been, right? It had to have been real, all of it. The villain, the building almost collapsing, the superheroes, Chat Noir, too. I decided to continue on tentatively, taking everything for what it was until I found evidence to prove myself wrong.

My day continued on as casual as usual. Get up, get ready, eat, head to school. The second day was less intense, people weren’t ogling me as much and I could breathe. Everything seemed to be okay, and classes were flowing smoothly. Though I do have to admit, I dislike science class. The teacher is mean, and her work is very complicated for no reason! It’s fine, though, I manage to survive and the bell rings for dismissal of the school day.

Somewhere inside I feel something akin to disappointment. What happened last night? Was it all real? I worry that it wasn’t, that I’ll never taste anything as exciting as that again. But, I see that— thankfully— I am wrong. The ground shakes and another villain has appeared! I cannot se them, but I can hear the shrill voice that calls out to those superheroes from last night. Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know the latter, but yet to acknowledge the former. Perhaps it was their ability that fixed everything, the magic ladybugs? Whatever it was, it was exciting.

However I do not put myself into the direct line of danger, I’m not a fool. Instead, I find a safer place to hide and wait out until it’s over. It’s taking a while, but I don’t want to get hurt. I find himself huddled against a locker in the far corner with my knees drawn to my chest and my hair in front of my eyes. It’s risky to even move, and I decide to sit there until I see those magical Ladybugs again.

In the mean time, I check the news and notice that this villain, a monster with a sword-hand, is rampaging. There I also find articles linking back to something called Ladyblog. I continue to scroll, occasionally wincing at the damage I can hear, and find more information. Though most of it is centered around this Ladybug superhero, there is some information about Chat Noir. I learn that he works alongside Ladybug to protect the world from this villain named Hawkmoth. Who are these people? why are they doing this? The curiosity plagues me, yet the answers allude me.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the ladybugs flutter around and clean up the mess. Any damages that were once visible to me no longer exist, just as new, just like last night. The thought festers before I stand to leave, heading home.

I nearly bump into a few people, and I know I’m not really watching where I’m going, but I can’t help it! This Ladyblog is so full of information, and good information at that. I’m so curious! What is a miraculous? A lucky charm? A cataclysm? Just as I almost run face-first into the 4th person today, I pocket my phone and decide to no longer obstruct my vision.

I find myself standing at the corner of a crosswalk, waiting to pass. The numbers are ticking down before the cars go, and I decide to not risk it and stay. However I see an older man still walking as the numbers count own. Concern brews but I believe he can make it. Then, time runs out and the hand tells us to stop, but he’s still there, walking, slowly. That is, until an impatient car swerves around him to get to wherever they need to go. The sudden movement startles him, and he falls!

Something pushes me to help the man, and so I do! Without a thought of self-concern, i throw myself forward and help cushion the man’s fall by preventing his head from hitting the pavement harshly. He seems a bit shocked but overall okay. A scowl makes itself onto my face as I eye the license plate of the car driving away. Despite mentally noting the plate, i know nothing will come of it. I sigh and redirect my attention. A stray horn honking brings me back to reality where I help the man up— as slow as i please, those cars can wait— and assist him across the crosswalk. Once on the other side, I let out a few anxiety-ridden breaths.

“Are you okay?” I start with some wound up tension in my voice, that driver was so reckless.

“I am, thank you, young man.” The old man smiles up at me, and I smile in return, “Young man” cools the fire broiling in my chest. What a kind stranger. “The world needs more people like you,” He brushes himself off.

“Ah, how kind. We need to be better people to one another.” I bow formally in response, brushing off the indirect compliment with a humble manner. “Please be well, sir! It was a pleasure meeting you,”

The man smiles and nods. “Likewise,” then, he turns and leaves.

I follow suit and begin heading back home, the chaos from earlier pushed to the back of my mind. I find myself worrying if people are so inconsiderate on a daily basis, is it really that common? I hope that such a sweet man would be treated better than that. If not, let him in specific be treated well.

Soon I make it home, greeting my host parents kindly before taking a snack from the kitchen and heading upstairs to my room. My bag feels a bit heavier than before, but I pay no mind to it. Instead, I grab my laptop to begin homework. I’ve got work to do!