#Rather then surprising someone with something darker then they thought

[somecallmekay]

Trigger Warning: Description of death, arguing, manslaughter I guess. It's kinda artsy, but you know, be safe. Q

I am arguing with my partner. The argument leads into a screaming match. I slowly realise all sounds became more muted. The saturation dissappears. My partner shoves me. I lose balance. I take a few steps back to recover, but my heel catches on something. Time slows down 999%. I hear a female voice singing. I am slowly falling back. I try to react, but my body is stuck in the original time frame. I can only process the surroundings, not act accordingly. The verse of the song is very morose and tragic. This does not bode well for me. The chorus hits as electric guitars and drums kick in. The singer is using words like "break" and "shatter". I do not like this. Fear engulfs my mind. I try to pray, but to no avail. I am about 45° to the ground now. The second verse is discussing regret and wishing the singer could take it all back. I try to make peace. I understand that I won't make it much further. If I'm lucky I'll live until the end of the song. My death is inevitable. It would be very cinematic. As the second chorus hits, I catch a glimpse of my partner. They are in shock. Clearly this song is written from their perspective. I am so dead. The guitar solo has started. I am forced to close my eyes by the narrative. I suspect I look peaceful. I am not. As the solo winds down, I feel something on the back of my head. The third chours is just about to hit. I realise I won't make it past this one. I can practically feel the cinematic cracks being added in post. I hear the first note of the band coming back full force. Then there is nothing.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Among Strangers | Bang Chan

•Synopsis: A handsome stranger takes it upon himself to take care of you in a crowded subway as you try to evade a man that had been following you after a night of drinking.

•Pairing: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, stalking, public unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, crowded area, sex with a stranger, biting, possessive chan, brief mentions of bondage and claustrophobia with a surprise ending. (I think that's everything)

an: This was first posted on my Wattpad but it was pretty ass and didn't do well so I fixed it up a little bit (a lot... Like it was so bad lol) and figured maybe it would be better appreciated here.

Part II

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

After a chill hangout at the bar with some friends from work, you all decide to head home. It's been a chill night with not too much drinking. Since you live close by, walking home seems like a good idea for some fresh air. But as you split from the group, you realize you're not alone. You start to get this eerie feeling like you're being followed. Looking over your shoulder you see a hooded figure and the hair on the back of your neck stands straight up. At every turn there he is, shadowing your every move, sending shivers down your spine.

Nervous about the idea of him following you home, you hop onto the subway thinking you could hide among a sea of people. With the size of the crowd there's no way he could find you. You're confident it'll work as you weave your way through the crowd, tripping over your own feet in a rush to lose him. You aim for the door at the end of the car on the other side just to create some distance between you and him. You steal a glance over your shoulder, heart pounding, checking if the man is still behind you. But in a rush, you accidentally step on someone's foot, sending a jolt of embarrassment through you.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, cheeks reddening. “I'm so sorry.”

When your eyes meet the stranger in front of you, you're met with kind gentle brown eyes belonging to a beautiful man with dimples and perfectly styled hair buzzed slightly on the sides.

“No worries.” He smiles sweetly showing off his perfect dimples while his velvety Australian accent engulfs you and calms down some of the panic in your chest.

Looking over your shoulder again, you catch sight of the man coming into your view. His gaze meets yours, and a smirk plays on his lips before he casually looks away. Panic surges again, your moment of peace gone, sending your heart into overdrive and your eyes to widen in alarm. The handsome stranger in front of you notices your reaction and follows your line of sight to the man in the black hoodie, mirroring your concern.

"Hey, you okay? That guy giving you trouble?" His voice cuts through the chatter of the people around you. His voice, laced with a hint of concern and tinged with something darker, making you snap your attention back to him.

The dim subway lights overhead cast shadows across his young face, highlighting his handsome features more rather than diluting them. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach realizing just how worried for you he is. He glares at the creep and the muscle in his jaw ticks once.

“He’s been following me since I left the bar. I was too afraid to go home so I tried to make a detour to shake him off but he's fucking relentless.” you explain in a quiet hush.

The creep looks over at you again as if to make sure you're still in his eyesight and looks away quickly to not draw attention to his shady acts.

“Maybe he'll back off if he thinks we're together? He looked away pretty quick when he saw me. I'll stay with you for however long you need. Just to be sure that you're safe.” The stranger beside you says sweetly.

You felt fucking lucky to have run into someone willing to help you, to keep you safe. You could've ended up locked in some damp dark basement if not for this man you thought to yourself. You can already feel the mild tipsiness from the alcohol wearing off and you feel more alert and aware of your surroundings.

“Thank you so so much.” You reply and the man holds his hand out for you.

“I'm Chris.” He gives you an award winning smile that lights up his whole face and yours.

You mirror his smile and take his hand. One shake and you gasp at the sudden static shock that you feel spread throughout your whole body rather than just your fingertips. His hand is soft and warm and your body suddenly feels hot all over as if you drank a lot more than you really did.

“Y/N.” You introduce yourself timidly and he gives a small nod of his head.

The train rattles to a stop and opens the doors behind you and Chris, letting on more people eager to get home after work. It becomes increasingly crowded and you're forced even closer to Chris. So much closer that you have to take a couple of steps back in an attempt to have some space, only for your back to hit the glass window of the other doors. Another stop and more people push in, bringing the creep closer to you and forcing Chris's chest to push into yours. He apologizes, placing gentle hands on my arms.

“If you get uncomfortable let me know. I'll try and make space.” He tells you, placing a hand above your head as the train rumbles along.

“Y-yeah okay.” You mutter, feeling the hard muscles underneath the white button up shirt he's wearing.

With the alcohol completely gone from your system now, you realize that the situation you're in is beyond embarrassing. Your breasts are rubbing against his chest with every rock and shake of the train in an almost lewd way. Granted you are thankful that he's keeping you away from being pressed up against some weirdo or worse the guy following you but still, It's awkward. There's no way he can't feel your heart beating so rapidly. The train makes a sudden bump and your bodies are pushed together even more.

“Sorry.” You whisper when your hands instinctively go around his middle. He chuckles and you feel it vibrate through your chest, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter awake.

“It's okay y/n. You give great hugs.” He says, the butterflies go mad and your face grows warm.

He's so sweet and so good looking there's no way he was flirting with me just now. No way, he's just a really sweet guy. Yeah… he's just being nice.

As the train continues to go on you feel eyes on you, burning a hole straight into your skull. Looking around Chris's muscular frame you see the creep, staring, lewdly licking his lips and undressing you with his eyes, no doubt. You squirm to try and get out of eye sight but Chris's strong hand holds you still.

“What's wrong?” He whispers. His voice makes you shiver against him and his fingers tighten on your arms briefly.

“That creep is staring at me.” It makes you feel disgusted. Your skin crawls the way his eyes slide over your face.

Chris curses under his breath and pauses. “I'll push up to give you enough space to turn around so he can't see your face. Maybe once these doors open we can quickly get off and lose him then.”

You nod at his idea and he pushes on the door, putting an inch between you two. It's not a lot of space to move but you try your best, turning around facing away from Chris and the creep. Now, at least like this, your breasts aren't crushed into him. Only now, your ass is pressing against his front. From one awkward situation to another…. This is what I get for going out after work on a Wednesday. You think to yourself. I should've gone straight home or at least changed.

The skirt you decided to wear to the office today is now hitched up just barely covering your ass. If you can just keep still maybe he won't notice and the situation doesn't get any more embarrassing than it is.

“So uh what do you do for work y/n?” Chris asks and clears his throat. You can feel every word against your back.

“Uh, I work at CBO. I'm an editor over there.” You feel him nod behind you slowly.

“I heard they're supposed to get a new CEO. Some big shot is what the news is saying.” He responds but you shrug. You haven't heard much about the new CEO except for that he's the son of the previous CEO as well as the new owner now that his father is retiring.

“I'm sure he'll be a great boss. I actually haven't met him yet. I don't even know what he looks like” You utter softly sounding uncertain. Would he be a great boss? Would he take care of you? Who knows he could change everything with just one hand.

══════════════•✦•✦•══════════════

The train enters a tunnel and you watch the lights outside in the darkness flick and zip past in a blur before noticing Chris's reflection. His eyes are on you, studying your face in the glass of the door. Your eyes meet in the all the air gets sucked out of your lungs like a sudden punch to the gut. His gaze is smoldering, far too hot to be on the receiving end of such intensity. No one says a word although his lips slowly form a sexy coquettish smile.

“Do you need me to stay with you when we get off while you call your boyfriend?.” He whispers.

You shake your head no, eyes still on his reflection. “Don't have one of those but I can call a friend to pick me up.”

As you're about to open your mouth again to thank him for the hundredth time, the train comes to a screeching stop and the lights in the car go out. Men and women grumble and some even scream. The force causes Chris to slam into you and your skirt bunches up further about midway up your ass. In a panic you tell him and he curses under his breath.

“I'll try to fix it but I have to touch you, y/n. Is that okay?” Him asking for consent to touch you makes him that much more attractive.

“Yes, please.” You say, just as a voice is heard over the speaker.

“Passengers, please be patient there seems to be some debris on the tracks that is blocking our route. They're already taking care to remove it. We'll be moving on shortly.” The voice is replaced with calming elevator music playing loudly.

That's a smart way to keep everyone calm so that no one panics. Only one panicking right now however is you. The feel of Chris's fingertips against your bare thighs is driving you insane. His touch is hot but you shiver like his fingers are made of ice. Why is it turning me on so much when he's just trying to fix my skirt?. The move is too slow to be legal that's why. His movements feel so sensual.

“Sorry, I'm trying not to draw attention.” He explains as if he can hear your thoughts.

Shit you want to stop him. To say never mind and to leave it as is and pray that the train will be stopping soon to let some people off… but you don't. Instead you hold your breath and squeeze your legs together. Your arousal grows to an unbearable high. It's just a simple touch. Why is it driving you crazy? You aren't inexperienced at your age by any means. You've had lovers before but this man's fingers, they burn wherever he touches.

“The material of your skirt seems to be stuck on my fly.” He says and the urge to crawl into a hole is strong. “I can fix it but I'll have to lower my zipper. Tell me what you're comfortable with y/n.” He whispers leaning closer to your ear.

Loose tendrils of your ponytail flutter around your ear from his breath and you mentally remind yourself to breathe. Would it be selfish to ask him to lower it? What if he's uncomfortable with that? This isn't just about you now.

“I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

He places his palm flat against your thigh comfortingly. “Whatever you decide, I won't be uncomfortable. As long as you're comfortable y/n, then so am I.” The conviction in his voice calms you and you give him a curt nod once.

“Lower it please.” You whisper, your voice sounding small with embarrassment.

His hand moves again from your thigh to your ass and you bite your lip hard. His knuckles graze the bareness and you unexpectedly feel him stir from inside his black slacks. Seems like I'm not the only one turned on by the other. Slowly and agonizingly, he lowers his zipper to not be heard over the piano and violin playing through the speakers.

“There. Are you okay?” You don't feel okay. You feel like you’re on the verge of dying from embarrassment and horniness. You can feel the opening of his pants against you and his growing erection pressing into your ass.

“I'm okay.” You lie. “Thank you Chris.”

Out of habit whenever you're riddled with anxiety, you shift your footing which only makes your ass rub against his erection more. “Shit. I'm sorry, I move around when I'm in an embarrassing situation and this takes the cake for me.”

He chuckles softly. “It's okay. I uh, I can't really control it unfortunately. Not when I've got such a beautiful woman like you in my arms. You make it… difficult to say the least.”

You rest your forehead onto the cold glass feeling the blush take over your whole face and he chuckles again.

“If I knew my evening would be like this I wouldn't have gone to happy hour with my co-workers.” Your sad confession fogs up the glass and you close your eyes.

He places a comforting hand on your hip. You're so packed he can't seem to stand the way he was before. His arms are restricted from raising any further than your hips now.

“It's okay y/n it's not all bad. We got to meet after all.” He says, making you smile.

“That's true. I don't know what would've happened if I didn't run into you.” His hands linger and you get so used to the heat that when he finally does move them away you feel cold and shiver under him. He groans softly, sending something like an electric current to the space between your thighs. That sound… you want to hear it more. Biting your lip you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Y/n…” Chris quietly says, sounding amused. “What are you doing?”

You shake your head feigning innocence. “My feet. It's these heels, I'm sorry.”

Why did I do that? I've seriously lost my mind but why do I want to do it again? The feel of him hard against your ass must be making you certifiably insane. This isn't right. Your better judgment screams at you. It's just your hormones getting out of hand.

When he places both hands on your hips and leans in, you expect for him to call you out on that blatant lie but instead he whispers, “Do it again.” All while slowly playing with the hem of your skirt.

You stifle a silent gasp, jaw dropping in disbelief, yet you obediently follow his instructions moving your hips just slightly. When you do, his left hand grips onto your hip tight and he sighs. His erection, that's fighting itself to stay inside the confines of his briefs, jerks forward against the fabric. Before you can shift again, his right arm wraps around you and his fingers find the wetness of your panties.

“So I'm not the only one fighting temptation I see.” His warm sweet breath fans across your cheek and your body sags a little in his arms when his fingers begin to dance.

Focusing on your breathing is all you can do so you don't faint from his touch. And trying to stay quiet now becomes a struggle the more his fingers move.

��Is this okay y/n?” You can only nod, too afraid of accidentally moaning and embarrassing yourself anymore today. He just chuckles and stops the torturous tango that his fingers were doing. “Use your words baby girl. Tell me if it's okay or not.” he instructs.

“Yes. It's okay, more please.” You hoarsely whisper, voice thick with lust.

Chris doesn't move, doesn't make a sound for what feels like minutes rather than seconds. Afraid that he might not have heard you, you open your mouth to repeat yourself when his fingers slip under the satin of your thong and into your slick folds.

“Good girl.” He says, his voice dripping with sex.

You lay your head back onto his shoulder as he works you just barely over the edge. Long fingers slipping in and out, massaging your thoroughly drenched cunt with ease. He grinds the heel of his palm against your clit and everything around you begins to blur. Lust, that primal urge, it ignites like a flame inside you, pulsating with an insatiable hunger that courses through every fiber of your being. You're so close to cumming around Chris's fingers, soaking his hand with your desire. You want to tell him just how close you are but if you let up on the hold your teeth have on your bottom lip you won't be able to control the sounds you'll make.

The lights come on just as you're about to come undone and he quickly removes his fingers just as quickly as he inserted them. The train begins to move again and you squint at the sudden light overhead that blinds you, breathing heavily. Before your eyes can adjust to the light and before your core begins to crave Chris's touch, you feel him fumbling behind you freeing his cock and distracting you from the frustration of your denied orgasm.

“Is there anything I should know?” He inquires, sounding like he's in a business meeting.

You don't need to ask what he's referring to. The real question though is do you really want to do this here, with someone you just met? What if you get caught? You both could get arrested. You could get fired. But there's no room in your mind for logic right now with the thrill and your need to cum clouding you. Fuck it.

“No nothing, I'm good. This is what I want.” You see his reflection smile.

“Good. Now, keep your eyes on me y/n.”

You feel the tip of him, covered in precum pressed firmly on your ass and his hands slide under your navy skirt pushing it up further. He hooks his thumb under the string of your thong and pulls it to the side. Your eyes never leave his face.

“No noise.” He warns, situating himself behind you, lining his cock up just right.

His cock feels thick and hot slipping between your thighs. You're so wet that there's little to no resistance as he pushes further and further until he's fully inside you. You let out a shuddering breath and your eyelids flutter close, feeling his warmth.

“No noise, remember? Look at me y/n. I want to see you when you cum on dick.” He tells you quietly, his voice more quiet than a whisper.

Your eyes fly open and stare at his reflection in awe of how gorgeous and composed he looks. He looks calm, like he's doing nothing other than waiting for his stop but his hands tell you otherwise. You feel it in the way he's gripping you to steal himself and to keep from bucking his hips into you at full force like he wants to. Like you want him to.

Instead he has to go at such an aching delicious slow pace so that the people behind him or next to you both aren't aware of what's going on. Your fingers long to hold onto him, to anything really. You're stuck standing still with your palms flat against the glass in front of you. Your breathing begins to fog the glass but you keep your focus on Chris and notice how his eyes go half lidded.

The brown seems to have gotten darker than the warm milk chocolate from earlier. One of his arms snakes around you and he presses his hand flat on your belly giving him more leverage. When he starts to move just a tad faster your heart rate skyrockets. The fear, adrenaline and lust mixing together creates an intoxicating concoction. Every glance, every touch, becomes charged with an energy that enthralls you. Your pulse echoes in your ears, drowning out all rational thought.

Chris's thrusts are covered up by the rocking of the train as it speeds down the rails. Your orgasm isn't far at this rate. Like a slow burn you feel it building up. A simmering that starts deep within your core, radiating up and outward. You're struggling to stay standing, to stay quiet now.

Your breathing comes out in ragged pants and your knees threaten to buckle the closer he brings you to ecstasy. You aren't the only one struggling, Chris's breathing is just as shaky and primal as yours and you hear him whisper something in another language before he murmurs “Fuck.” Into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. When your walls tighten around him he curses again and his gaze looks wild.

“Why do you feel so good around my cock y/n?” He asks but you don't dare respond. He smirks, grinding himself into you. “You take directions s-so well. So… obedient.” He whispers.

You can hear how he's losing his control. His composure has melted away and he no longer looks calm and collected. He looks like a man high on sex and chasing the release that's within reach.

“Y/n… fuck. Tell me, can I cum inside you? Will you let me fill you? Use your words beautiful.” He nips your neck just below your ear and you tremble.

“Yes. You can,” You bite your lip again to hold back what would've been a loud gasp when the train jerks Chris forward causing his cock to slam into your sensitive cunt. “You can cum inside. I'm so close Chris.”

“Then cum baby. Fucking cream on it y/n. Shit, so good.

Hearing him lose himself like that is your undoing and you're falling apart around him. The air becomes heavy with the heady scent of arousal, thick and intoxicating, swirling around you and Chris like a seductive veil. Each breath is laced with the taste of pleasure. Time seems to stand still as you stare at him. Eyes wide as you breathe through your nose squeezing your lips shut tight desperate to make no sound at all. Your cunt convulses around his cock begging to milk it of every drop.

The aftershocks of your orgasm shoot through you as he continues to thrust deeper and deeper. His own orgasm right at the edge. His arm tightens around you, hugging you closer to him. his breath becomes shallow and erratic as he reaches his climax.

“Fuck, fuck.” He whispers and he bites down hard on your neck over your fast pulsating pulse, sucking your flesh to keep himself from telling you how you belong to him now.

He bites you to keep the grunts and praises from tumbling out of his mouth uncontrollably. Because something about you makes him lose control. He doesn't do shit like this. He's careful, always planning and thinking things out. He just doesn't do spontaneity. He didn't plan this, it just happened. You just bulldozed into his life and he can’t get enough. What is it about you that makes him desire this cunt he's currently filling to the brim that he craves to make sore and swollen with his cock until the sun rises? Whatever it is, he's already addicted. He needs you in his own space, tied up nice and pretty like a gift only for him to unwrap. Fuck. He's already thinking of all the positions he'd have you in if you were at his place.

You watch in awe at how intense and irresistible he looks while he spills himself inside of you. His eyes hold so much power over you. You feel the weight of his possessiveness in his unwavering stare and it excites you immensely. You find yourself thinking of asking him to come back to your place where you'd be free to move around, cry his name out without anyone around. You're curious how sex with Chris would be in a more relaxed setting. If this orgasm was intense you can't imagine how it would feel when he isn't holding back.

He slowly pulls out of you, fixing himself as best as he can and then fixes your skirt back in place. He places a sweet kiss to the back of your head, chest still rapidly rising and falling. When you blush he chuckles.

“You're a cutie y/n. After all that, you blush from a kiss. So adorable.” He murmurs and you shift your feet. “If we don't get off soon I'll end up going for another round if you keep that up.”

You giggle and look back at him, “Sorry, I'll behave.” You sweetly say.

“What if I don't want you to?” He says instantly.

You blink at him, your face reflecting shock in the glass, and he chuckles. “To be honest with you y/n, I'd love to see you again if you'd let me.”

“Me? Seriously?” You whisper in disbelief.

“Of course. Preferably somewhere less crowded. I think after today I'll be just a little claustrophobic.”

You laugh and even after what just happened you can't believe how incredible of a guy he is. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you while you laugh.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful laugh y/n?” He whispers and you shake your head. “Why does something as simple as hearing you laugh make me so hard? What have you done to me?”

A shiver of pleasure runs through your body and he exhales quietly.

“I'd fuck you again right now if we weren't about to stop.” He tells you followed by the robotic female voice informing everyone to wait until the train comes to a complete stop and the doors open.

As the subway doors slide open, Chris grabs your hand and pulls you through them, dodging the rush of commuters that are eager to go home. With ease he leads you away from the hooded creep that's desperate to find you, vanishing into the shadows behind a massive pillar. You peek out from behind Chris who scans the area cautiously. When the man doesn't see you he hops back on the train, disappointment evident on his face but relief floods over you. Glad that's over.

"Thank you Chris." you say, sending a quick text to your best friend for a ride. “For saving me I mean.”

"It was my pleasure, y/n." he replies smoothly, grinning at you, his gaze lingering on your lips. His thumb brushes your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "Anytime you need saving, or anything really just give me a shout, yeah?" He hands you a sleek black business card with fancy gold letters.

Maybe you will call him, because you really can't imagine that you'll get the memory of how he felt inside of you out of your mind. Besides, he made it very clear he wanted to see you again and how could you turn a man like Chris down?

After saying goodbye when your bestie arrives, you watch Chris walk away in the side mirror as the car eases into traffic. Glancing at the card in your hand, you see it reads "Chris Bang, CEO and Co-owner of CBO," and you feel a wave of shock and mortification wash over you.

“Who was that hottie?” Your friend asks bobbing her head along to the radio when she stops at a red light.

“My new boss…” You say, still feeling his warm cum still inside of you.

“Also... what the hell happened to your neck?”

[evergone]

Lonely

Theodore Nott x Legilimens! reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Description: The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

In your first year, you were put in a dorm by yourself. You heard so many times that this was a gift — a sign of your good fortune, Professor Trelawney said — as everyone else in your year group had to share with someone else, but you, the introvert you were, were left to your own devices. Despite these assumptions, you quickly discovered that sharing a dorm was central to establishing friendships, and you spent the vast majority of your high school life friendless and alone.

At times, your boredom and your loneliness were so all-encompassing that you would read the minds of the first years who you knew wouldn’t be capable of sensing the imposition upon their thoughts. None of them thought of much. The boys were preoccupied with daydreams of girls and music (most of them were very into hip-hop as was the popular culture of the nineties), and the girls were nearly all stressing about parties and school work.

You were as much at ease with your situation as one could possibly be. You were of the mindset that if there was nothing you could do about it, why bother? Everyone had their cliques, their friends, and you were just the one to be left out. Your only goal was to get through the remaining year, then you would leave school, rent a house somewhere obscure, become a writer or an archaeologist or something else fun, and start your life over again. But it appeared that destiny had other plans.

Destiny, that supreme, omniscient, omnipotent concept that dwindled above and twisted within the interactions of all peoples, came to you in a free period you were spending in the library. The period before had been Charms, but that was of no consequence, neither was the fact that you had no more classes until later that night when you would make the journey to the Astronomy tower. You were sitting at a desk in the far left corner of the library, tucked between the pages of a number of books written by Z-named authors of some incredibly niche portion of history when Madam Pince’s high-pitched and troubled voice disturbed your rather unproductive attempts to finish your homework.

Ever bored, and hardly ever entertained, you leant to the side to see around the long bookcase. To your surprise, your eyes immediately met with a pair of blue ones. The irises were mere spots lost in the oceans of colour and they darted between you and Madam Pince, desperate for assistance. Behind those eyes, you could hear his mind asking for your help. If you was slightly smarter, you would’ve avoided this person’s gaze altogether and returned to your work.

“Madam Pince,” you said before allowing yourself a moment to think, and the frustrated librarian’s head turned to you in owl-like frustration, “Is everything okay?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice an angry whisper, “Mr Nott should be in class, instead, he’s here violating my books!”

You glanced at the owner of the eyes. The green lining of his robe told you he was from your house, so you knew him even if only from afar. He hung out with the big group of your housemates most of the time, but you’d observed that he often sat by himself in the common room and the others intruded on his personal time. He was tall — probably six feet or so — and thin, with hair that was darker than blond, but most definitely not as dark as some of his friends’ hair. In the traditional sense, he was handsome, but you’d heard him speak in class before, and his voice bore an awkward intonation as if to speak was to curse which made him seem almost as nerdy as yourself. Despite this, every movement he made seemed elegant no matter his emotion, this was so inherent of a feature that even in that moment — when he was so clearly itching to turn and run — he was like a swan. His name was Theodore Nott, and you’d never spoken to him before.

“He’s supposed to be helping me with my homework,” you blurted out and Madam Pince quirked a pencilled-on eyebrow, “You know I’m terrible with, uh, Ancient Runes.” You both had that class together.

“Yeah,” nodded Theo as he stepped around her and stood by your side, “The professor said it was okay, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” she frowned, “Tell her not to let this happen again.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With an irritated hum, she left the two of you alone. Theo turned to face you once she was out of earshot, and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down on the edge of the desk you were at.

“You’re in Slytherin,” he said obviously, “What year?”

You sucked in a breath of air, “Sixth. Yours.”

“Oh.”

His brain exploded with a million thoughts at once, his conscious and subconscious fighting for dominance. You could hear the embarrassment as he reprimanded himself for not knowing, and the confusion as he searched his memories for some sign that he had, in fact, seen you before.

“We have Potions together, and Astronomy, and Divination, and Ancient Runes, and… most of our classes, actually.” You shrugged without a care.

Theo cringed, “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I don’t really make my presence known,” you said, “So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Theodore Nott,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched towards you, “What’s your name? I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“Y/n L/n,” you said and shook his hand. It was soft and had no callouses at all.

“I best be off, I’m missing Arithmancy.”

“Boring.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled and left the library.

Over the course of that afternoon, you were unable to tear your mind away from Theo, and none of your homework was completed as a result. You didn’t go to dinner in the Great Hall. Your mind was much too preoccupied to eat.

At eleven-thirty, your alarm sounded, and you washed your face in preparation for Astronomy. Professor Sinistra demanded that all her students wore their uniforms for her classes, even if said classes were at midnight, but there wasn’t a single person who ever did that other than Hermione Granger. Everyone else tended to pull their robes overtop their pyjamas and call it a day, yourself included.

The lesson wasn’t all that interesting as Sinistra had the class chart some stars for the whole hour. However, you barely managed to get anything done because you were so distracted by Theo who was sitting peacefully at the opposite side of the tower amongst his friends. Including Theo, there were five of them (you didn’t include Crabbe and Goyle, who you always thought were less friends than goons, or Millicent Bulstrode or Tracey Davis, both of whom you knew were periodically hated by the others). Two girls, three boys.

Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and finally, Theo. At seventeen, his hair was a mostly consistent length of woody brown curls that sat fluffily on his head — if anything it was maybe a bit shorter on the sides. His eyebrows were thick as they always were, and in that particular Astronomy lesson, they were hard pressed against the tips of his long eyelashes that seemed almost too feminine to belong to him. By far the most intriguing and attractive aspect of Theo was, of course, the prominent mole on his left cheek that stole your attention away from a tight-lipped smile he had thrown your way.

Your immediate reaction was to blush and avert your eyes, but upon glancing back and noticing he was still staring, you offered him a short wave. He nodded in response before turning to Draco and saying something too far away for you to hear.

The next morning, or, perhaps, later that morning is the right expression, you went to breakfast in the Great Hall. Not having eaten dinner the night prior had left you so completely starving. You could’ve eaten a pegasus. You sat down on the edge of the Slytherin table by yourself, and loaded a plate with two eggs, about five slices of bacon (it very well could have been more, your memory isn’t perfect), a piece of toast, and a spoonful of baked beans.

“Where are all your friends?”

You looked up to see Theo standing over you chewing on the end of a breadstick.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned.

“Because you’re sitting here by yourself and it looks a bit pathetic, L/n,” laughed Theo teasingly.

“I don’t really have any friends.”

“Oh,” said Theo, “Sorry I asked.”

You shrugged, and as he glanced to the middle of the table you shoved as much of the baked beans into your mouth as possible, and quickly swallowed them. Merlin’s beard, you were so embarrassed.

“Give me a sec,” he said absentmindedly and you almost thought to use your Legilimency on him, “I’ll be right back.”

He placed his breadstick in front of you as if it were a deposit meant to reassure you that he’d be back, but you weren’t fazed either way. You watched as he jogged over to his group of friends and started chatting with them, but never sat down. With his right hand, he motioned back at you, and you glanced away as the rest of them turned to get a good look at you. Suddenly, you were concerned about how well your makeup was applied, and if your uniform looked good, and if there was still too much food on your plate. And then, all of them stood up with their plates, and followed Theo over to sit around you.

Most of them sat on the other side of the table, but Theo sat next to you, and Blaise by his other side. He introduced you to everyone: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, himself (“but you know me already,” he’d joked).

“It’s crazy to think we don’t know you despite being in the same house as you for the past six years,” said Daphne and Pansy elbowed her in the waist, sending her a death glare.

“Excuse her,” Pansy smiled awkwardly, “She’s a bitch.”

Your ears tickled at the word. You weren’t used to people calling those they were friends with such vulgar names… You weren’t used to the idea of friends at all.

Draco started rattling off about half-bloods and “that darn Potter,” spurring his friends into a rather heated conversation. They laughed and cackled loudly at each other, entirely easy around you as if it didn’t matter at all that they didn’t know you.

“Is this okay?” Theo asked you in a whisper once the group had moved on to another topic of conversation.

“Yes, this is nice,” you responded with a blush over your cheeks as you tried not to smile, “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to so many people.”

Theo’s eyes softened, glazed with a thin layer of water that informed you of his empathy. He felt your loneliness as if it was his own. The image of a young version of himself locked in his bedroom, wailing for his long deceased mother, flashed in his memories and seeped into your brain. An involuntary consequence of your extraordinary Legilimency talent.

When Saturday finally arrived, you slept in the whole morning. You only awoke at the sound of a knock on your door followed by a series of laughter at ten o’clock. You rolled out of bed, and for a moment stopped in horror of your hair in front of the mirror to quickly tie it up, and then opened the door.

You were surprised to see Pansy and Daphne there, but even more so when Daphne asked, “It’s Hogsmeade day, why aren’t you ready?”

“Huh?” You said, squinting at the light of the hallway.

“Theo sent us up to grab you, get some clothes on and let’s go,” said Pansy as she pushed past you and slipped into your room, Daphne hot on her heel, “Merlin’s beard, there’s absolutely nothing in here.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve got it all to myself,” you muttered.

“Oh, that’s got to be terribly boring,” said Pansy.

Both of the girls made themselves at home as they rummaged through your drawers looking for something nice to wear. They were both dressed very well themselves, and it made you a little self-conscious to think they were going to see all your cheap clothes.

Pansy threw a sheer white shirt you didn’t know you had and a pair of bootleg jeans onto your bed while Daphne kicked over some matching joggers and a big white handbag you’d stolen from your mother.

“It is terribly boring,” you said.

As the three of you descended the stairs (after you got dressed, of course), you could already hear the sounds of masculine voices teetering on yelling at one another. One of them you knew to be Theo’s, and while you weren’t particularly familiar with them, you were inclined to assume the other two voices were Draco and Blaise. At the bottom step out of the girls’ dormitory hallway, you were proven correct when you saw them bickering like old men at a weekend golf tournament.

Draco was the first to notice the three of you, and his grey eyes lit up at the sight, “L/n, come settle an argument for us.”

You walked to join the small group and stood beside Theo, your handbag held meekly between your fingers, the nails of which had magenta paint flaking off them.

“Your mate Theo here—” Draco gestured to him with an uninterested hand, and you nearly laughed at the idea that Theo was your mate more than he was any of the others’— “Thinks that we ought to have a Legilimens registry like we have for Animagi. Frankly, I think it’s absolutely blasphemous that we even have one for Animagi; let them run wild, I say! What are your thoughts? Don’t mind the coincidental pun.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit biased in this conversation,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you mean?”

The faces of the group stared at you with raised brows, and eyes that glistened with interest, and you were red from the attention.

“Well, I’m a Legilimens,” you admitted, “So, I’d have to disagree with you, Theo, for my own sake.”

“Are you really?” Theo asked to break the silence, and you nodded shyly.

“That’s so cool!” Daphne all but squealed, “What number am I thinking of?”

“Seven.”

She brightened with delight, and slapped Pansy’s arm, encouraging her to try your magic out like a little game. Pansy did just that, and you ended up going around the whole group, describing what they were thinking of. Eight. Twelve. Bakery. Seven. And Theo was questioning why you weren’t already on the way to Hogsmeade.

With that final thought, they grew disillusioned by the game, and you began the walk to Hogsmeade.

You’d never been into town with other people before, not that you went much at all. You usually stayed in your room, or wandered the halls, towering over the first and second years who weren’t allowed to go on weekend Hogsmeade trips yet. But there you were, forming one kink in a string of knots engaging in stimulating conversation about the current condition of the world, and even boring conversation about the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts which, to you, seemed so thrilling even if only for the fact that it was verbal discourse in some form. You’d forgotten what it was to converse with others.

“Is there anywhere you need to go once we get there?” said Theo once you were nearing the end of the path and closing in on the town.

“I would have been awake before Daphne and Pansy got to my room if I planned to go anywhere today,” you joked and he smiled, “If you don’t mind, I might just go wherever you go.”

All he offered in response was a hum, and it left you thinking that you’d somehow made the air around you awkward. You’d later come to learn that he was just like that, never much of a talker if he thought the situation didn’t call for it.

Almost instantly after you passed sign that read ‘Welcome to Hogsmeade,’ the group dispersed, and Theo and yourself were left to do as you pleased.

Your companion, it seemed, didn’t have much he wanted to do either, so he led you to the Three Broomsticks. Kindly, he offered to pay for a butterbeer or two, but you didn’t think you were close enough for that, so you humbly told him it was alright. You sat in relative silence until our drinks arrived when Theo struck up some conversation.

“What have you been doing all these years by yourself, L/n?” He asked.

“I don’t know… Stuff…”

Theo laughed, and you laughed along with him. Your mind was frazzled by the alcohol, which kept refilling itself as you chatted on, and every so often you found thoughts that didn’t belong to you creeping into your mind, but you couldn’t place who they belonged to. It was just the odd word — sad, or pretty, or damned, or Y/n.

“Nott, are you and Malfoy good friends?” You asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seem to argue quite a bit.”

“He’s just like that,” said Theo, “Likes to start shit for no reason, that one.”

You giggled, and he grinned happily. Another person’s thoughts seeped into yours once again, that time a full sentence: ‘I love her laugh.’

The bell that hung over the entrance to the Three Broomsticks jingled, and though you couldn’t see it behind you, you watched as Theo’s expression morphed into one of guilt. You turned over your shoulder, and made out the figures of the four people who had come with you. Each of them were wearing a disappointed look on their faces.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?” asked Pansy, her tone equal parts concerned and amused.

“Nothing,” said Theo.

“Yeah, if ‘nothing’ is code for drinking all day,” said Blaise, “Snape’s gonna have your asses for this.”

The others guided yourself and Theo back to the castle. Your hand was attached to Pansy’s forearm, Theo’s arm was slung over Draco’s shoulder. By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, You were sober enough to move on your own, and thus, started your way up to your dorm.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked curiously. He was far away enough that you couldn’t smell his breath which stunk like the vomit he’d expelled from his body halfway through the walk back.

“My room,” you said.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and then closed his eyes from the dizziness. “It’s sleepover night. You have to come to our dorm, I made room for you on my bed.”

“I used to sleep there because he’s got the best mattress out of the three of them, but we figured you might prefer to sleep beside him than Blaise,” Daphne explained.

“Oh,” you breathed, “Do I need to contribute anything?”

You hadn’t had a sleepover before. You didn’t know the proper protocol. You assumed one would need to bring at least their pyjamas and a pillow, maybe some sweets of some kind to share. But Theo shook his head, and you were in the boys’ room before you knew what was happening.

The boys’ dorm room was the opposite of yours. So exquisitely full, and intricately messy. The three beds were all the same size as yours with dark green bed hangings, and each about a metre apart.

Closest to the door and to their small shared bathroom was Theo’s bed. On the right, beside the door to the bathroom, he had a tower of books that acted as a wall. His sheets were black, but his pillows and blanket cover were a dark oceanic blue-green. There wasn’t much room, but you spied a large mess under his bed which you assumed was what he’d removed from the bed to make space. On his bedside table sat a small lamp that provided the only light in the room before Daphne declared it was far too ‘dark and gloomy’ and turned on the central light.

On the floor, directly under the light, there was a large medieval-style rug that bore our house crest, and the others sat on it lazily, ushering you over.

“I need a smoke,” said Draco, and he walked over to the window where the ashtray was.

“Me too,” said Theo as he also moved to the window, “You want one, L/n?”

“I’ve never smoked before.”

“Then I shouldn’t get you in the habit,” he smiled, “It is such a terrible habit to have. Costs more than it’s worth.”

He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Draco, and they both lit them with their wands.

“Does it taste nice?” You asked.

“Not particularly,” said Theo.

“Why do you do it then?”

“You’re so curious, L/n,” Draco teased.

Theo playfully slapped him on the chest, “Leave her alone,” he said, and then turned to you, “I’m an addict.”

“That’s got to be bad for your lungs, Nott,” you frowned, suddenly concerned.

“Don’t you worry about him,” said Pansy, a knowing smirk on her lips that told you she was well aware you’d continue worrying.

The night went on much shorter than you wished for it to. You’d hoped, perhaps too eagerly, that none of you would ever sleep. Far too much did you enjoy being awake with those people who you’d met too late in yout life. You were truly happy to have met them because for all the simple joys you’d managed to discover in your time alone, none were half as happy as those grand joys you found with them

You all took turns getting changed in the small bathroom (Theo lent you a shirt to wear), then you all slid into our respective beds. You were nervous about sleeping beside Theo because, in truth, you didn’t really know him. But he placed a pillow between you, and only faced you for a moment — a moment in which there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher, a moment in which you attempted to read his mind all too late — and then he kissed his fingers, and he touched them to your head, and he turned the other way.

“Did you sleep well?” Theo said once he noticed you were awake the next morning.

“I’ve never slept beside someone before,” you explained nervously, “I think it was a decent experience. I hope I didn’t move around too much.”

“Not at all, L/n,” he said.

A hum escaped your mouth, and you were acutely aware that Theo was watching you as you stared up at the roof of his room. Painted on it, Sistine Chapel-style, was a beautiful lush green forest.

“L/n. It’s so formal to call you by your surname.” Theo let out a disapproving tut.

“I call you by yours?” You said as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“You’re the only one who does.”

“It’s your name!” You raised your voice slightly before lowering it again so as to not wake any of the others up. “What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Theo,” he said, “That’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what false-name shall I bear, then?”

He chuckled quietly as he finally sat up. He raised his long arms in a stretch that exposed the bottom of his stomach and his V-line, and you glanced away until he returned his arms down to a cross in front of his chest. You took notice of his hair, which was awfully messy in the morning, and you thought he should get his hands on a bonnet to take care of it, but then you thought he probably shouldn’t. A silk pillow would’ve done him wonders, though.

“A nickname for Y/n,” said Theo, “How about Y/n/n?”

“I suppose that will do,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, but inside you were screaming with excitement. A nickname! You’d never had a nickname before.

“Oh, you suppose, do you?” he teased.

Your amused smile betrayed your insincere attempt at a pout, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t let anyone else call you Y/n/n, alright?” said Theo, and you crossed your brows in question, “I want it to be just an us-thing. They can call you your full name at most.”

He was extraordinarily bossy. But it was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

“Wait, but if everyone calls you Theo, I want something just for us, too!” You blushed at how overly familiar that sounded, but Theo’s rosy cheeks filled you with conviction. “How about Teddy?”

Giddily, he smiled at you, “Say it to me in a sentence.”

You frowned, but obeyed, “I like being your friend, Teddy. — How was that?” He nodded happily, “You say one for mine, now.”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide on a sentence to say.

“Read my mind, Y/n/n.”

Always, he had to boss you around. But, again, you really didn’t care. It was just nice to have someone to boss you around. To think that only at the beginning of that week, you had no friends at all… Now you had so many, and all thanks to destiny. All thanks to your Teddy.

A breath, and then you forced your way into his mind. There was a picture there waiting for you, a memory from Monday. A memory of you, except, you seemed to glow. You’d seen yourself in a million mirrors and memories over the course of your life, but never had you looked so beautiful. And then, there were words.

“I’d like to go on a date with you, Y/n/n.”

Your eyes snapped open as you left his thoughts to belong to him alone.

“What?” You asked, your ears red.

“I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Y/n/n. Please, go on a date with me?” Theo smiled.

He inched closer until your noses touched and you could barely tell each others’ features apart. Each of you were just blurs of colour.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Teddy.”

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK!

—CHAPTER THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance, love at first sight.

Warnings: none.

Notes: sorry it took awhile, I got lazy lmfao. Also, I listened to caramelldansen when writing this.

CH. ONE | CH. TWO | CH. FOUR | NAV.

It has been a few days since Alastor's mother decided to stay at the hotel, the woman fits right in perfectly with the sinners in the hotel.

Almost.

The angelic woman couldn't get a chance to get to know better hell's very own King, Lucifer.

As Alastor always tries to come in between her and the man.

Is this what Adam called "Cock blocking?" She heard the man say that before and before Adam could explain it to her, Emily explained that it's something where 'You try to talk to someone but somehow there's something or someone stopping you from doing so?' that's what the girl said but did also tell her to not use that term.

How strange.

She sighs, running a hand through her [h/c] locks, careful not to accidentally scratch her own deer antlers. The woman is currently in her 'demon' form, large deer like antlers that are on top of her head, she made sure not to wear bright colors and instead chose to wear something on the darker shades of red, her wings are hidden while her halo was transformed into a golden necklace that hung around her neck.

She rests a leg on top of her other leg as she sits on one of the many cushioned chairs of the hotel, she looks down from the second floor balcony, getting a good view of the hotel's lobby.

“Pray tell, what really brings you here in hell oh dear mother of mine?” Alastor asked beside her, standing beside the seat she sat on, his hand holding his cane-like microphone, he looked at his mother with a grin, though, a confused look in his eyes. He knows his mother, he got his personality from her after all.

Like mother, like son.

[Y/n] giggled, “Overseeing this hotel's progress, isn't that an enough reason to be here?” she answers, eyes closed with a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes opened to see her son's disbelief smile.

Alastor tilted his head slightly, grin widening, “I doubt that is the reason, I was so sure that the celestial realm denied Charlie's plans so,” he says, pausing a bit as he hummed to himself as if he was thinking, “—I was rather surprised that heaven decided to change their minds.” he says with a smirk.

He knows she's hiding something.

[Y/n] can't help but let the sides of her lips twitch upwards to a slight smirk. Clever boy. She thought to herself.

With a defeated sigh, she chuckled after, “There is a reason but heaven cannot disclose that yet. That is the only thing I can tell you.” she explained before raising an eyebrow at him, “Is that an enough reason?”

Alastor tilted his head slightly, his smile widened, humming as he thought to himself, “Hmm... I supposed that is an enough reason and I should stop bothering my mother about it.” he says with a smirk.

[Y/n] playfully rolls her eyes at her son, eyes fixated down below to the lobby of the hotel, [e/c] eyes focused on a certain blond fallen angel who's currently drinking a glass of wine at the bar area.

“Enough of that, I would like to ask you why do you keep on trying to stop me from interacting with him?” She asked, head turning away from the scene below and once more looked at Alastor whose smile had slightly lowered in annoyance, a small scoff leaving past his lips.

“Do I really need to give you a reason, dear mother of mine?” Alastor asked, tilting his head, his voice sounding almost a grimace thinking about the shorter man making moves on her.

[Y/n] just raises her eyebrow at him, a small hum escaping her lips, “Please do.”

Alastor hums, dark red eyes looking down on the folks currently in the lobby, “He's a man, mother. In fact, he's the king of hell. I don't trust him.” he grumbles, the smile on his face is gone and is now replaced with a small frown.

[Y/n]'s face softened, she knows her son's disapproval in men, especially if said men have an interest in her. Her last marriage was a failure and filled with pain and Alastor was by her side through it all.

She can understand why he hesitates, why he tries to put distance between her and the men that come to her life.

"Alastor, sweetheart. Don't worry about me,” She says softly, a small gentle smile on her face. Her eyes closing and opening as she glanced at the people down below, her smile widened as she saw sinners mingled with one another.

She's glad. She's glad that there are souls who are willing to try and earn redemption.

And she's here to guide them.

Alastor looked at his mother, his usual grin now back on his face.

“Besides, the man seems nice. It must be lonely being the first fallen angel.” she says softly, she can't imagine the pain Lucifer must've dealt with. She read about him when she was in heaven, she was curious about the first fallen angel and the heavenly libraries were filled with eons and eons of information and she read everything she can about him. Sera even warned her in case she turns to heresy and Sera made sure to remind her to keep her loyalty to heaven and avoid getting influenced by him.

Alastor hums, “I suppose,” he says with a small nod before giving his mother a side eye, “Though, I don't think I'll be comfortable with the possibility of calling him...” he paused and gave a small gag, “—father.” he says with disgust.

[Y/n] chuckles, “Me? Marrying the king of hell? What an ambitious dream would that be.” she says with a small laugh, flicking her hand sassily.

“I just want to be his friend, the man seems like he hasn't formed any meaningful relationships during his life.” she says with a small giggle and Alastor had to fight back from laughing, “Indeed, he has not.” he agrees with a small chuckle.

“Don't be mean, I didn't raise you like that.” [Y/n] chuckles, elbowing her son on his side which made Alastor let a small grunt before pouting at her, “Apologies.” he says, tone clearly not genuine which [Y/n] can clearly tell.

She sighs exasperatedly.

Alastor chuckles his eyes closing before opening once more to look at his beloved mother, “Oh and another thing,” he spoke, [Y/n] looked at him a quirked eyebrow, a small hum escaping her lips, “Hmm?”

“I would like to express my gratitude in what you have down to the hotel's garden, you've brought life to this godforsaken place. I am sure these sinners haven't seen any kind of greenery ever since they have died.” Alastor grins, his eyes darkened from amusement over the misery of these loathsome sinners.

[Y/n] chuckles, though, questioning where she went wrong in raising him.

“It was nothing, I thought the hotel needed a little green that's all! All of these reds are hurting my eyes.” she says glancing at Alastor with a judgemental look in her eyes.

Alastor just rolls his eyes at her which earned him another harsh elbow to the sides.

Lucifer was admiring the lush garden of the hotel's backyard, he has never seen such greenery before—he did but it was eons ago when he was still divine, but it was eons ago and has already forgotten what it looked like—a large willow tree at the side just by the door to the hotel, the once dried up fountain at the center is now back and running, multiple plants surrounded the area and grass, good heavens, he doesn't remember when was the last time he touched grass.

He doesn't know when was the last time you touched grass, dear reader. Go out sometimes, it'll be good for you.

What was he thinking again? Ah, grass.

‘I broke the fourth wall? You're just seeing things, sweetheart.’ he thought in amusement, eyes staring off somewhere as if looking at something... Or someone.

He just chuckled in amusement before walking towards one of the bushes of roses, the heels of his shoes clicked against the pebbled pathway and he stopped in front of a bush of white roses, the fragrance of the flower immediately filling his nose.

It's been so long. He forgot what roses smell like.

Lucifer's eyes sparkled in awe, his wine red like eyes filled with wonder, his right gloved hand gently caressing the petal of a white rose, feeling its softness—just one of the few species of flowers that bloomed in hell for the first time.

“Do you like it?” a feminine voice spoke out—a voice familiar to Lucifer, a voice belonging to a certain radio demon's mother, the silkiness of her voice—it made Lucifer shudder, “I thought the garden looked bare, I thought some greenery would fix it.” [Y/n] chuckles softly.

Lucifer turns around and sees [Y/n] standing behind him, her hands behind her back. The red knee length dress hugged her curves perfectly—it stole Lucifer's breath away, she's gorgeous.

He chuckles, placing his right hand back to his cane, “Indeed, it has been quite long since I've seen such beautiful flowers.” he says, his voice filled with longing and a hint of sadness that [Y/n] didn't fail to notice but decided not to point it out, “They are lovely, I am grateful for being presented with another opportunity to see such beautiful flowers.” he spoke softly, irises glancing at the flowers briefly before looking back at the taller woman.

[Y/n] chuckles softly, “It's a pleasure,” she says with a small smile, taking slow steps as she walked by his side.

“It was fun growing them and an honor to give the princess of hell her own garden of flowers.” she says with a slight chuckle.

“And with that, I am forever grateful.” Lucifer says with a small smile, eyes shining briefly and for once, it's not dull.

[Y/n] was glad to see the shine on his beautiful eyes, and also seeing a genuine smile on the man's face.

After all, you're never fully dressed without a smile.

“You are most absolutely welcome, sweetheart.” she says with a grin, amusement dancing in her eyes as the rosy spots on the man's cheeks seem to redden even more.

“Ex-excuse m-me?!” he stammers, the endearment catching him off guard, it has been quite some time since someone called him something so... Affectionate.

[Y/n] tilted her head slightly, a feigned confusion on her face. Who knew the king of hell is quite easy to tease?

“Hmm? Is something the matter?” she asked softly, a hint of playfulness in her voice, “Is the nickname not to your liking? Would you prefer darling instead?” she asked teasingly.

Lucifer has never been more flustered in his entire existence.

“Are you normally this mischievous?” he asked, his hand covering his face while his other hand gripped into his cane.

“Usually I'm more.” she answered honestly with mischief on her lips.

“Of course, you're the mother of a certain radio demon.” he said with an exaggerated sigh making [Y/n] chuckle.

“Speaking of him, where is he? He usually stays by your side.” he deadpans, his hand that was covering his face lowered back to hold his cane, he's been wanting to interact with this woman properly ever since he met her but that damn radio demon kept her away.

[Y/n] hums, “I am not entirely sure, I'm sure he is somewhere around the hotel.” she says with a hum in her voice, glancing at the side to see a certain demonic shadow quickly leaving.

This damn brat, she'll teach him a lesson later.

Lucifer just hums, thank Satan. He can't stand that demon and his annoying grin.

Finally recomposing himself, he grins at her.

“Well then, I hope everyone in the hotel is treating you well? I haven't gotten the chance to ask you as a certain someone kept getting in the way.” he says with a small smile but his voice strained a little when he mentioned a certain someone.

[Y/n] hums softly, leaning down slightly to reach the rose bush, her hand gently caressing the petal of a white rose, “Everyone has been nice so far, I'm glad you asked.” she says cheerfully.

“I'm glad.” he says with grin.

“I am glad too.” she said softly with a grin.

Maybe, hell isn't too bad.

Both of them thought at the same time.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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[squiddy-god]

idia shroud phone sex

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme

CW : phone sex, written pre-idia chapter, masturbation, all portrayed as 18 etc.

Idia didn’t want to go home for the holidays, it’s not that he didn’t want to see his family, no no no, its that he couldn’t bring you with him. He and ortho both wanted to see family again but it ticked idia off that he couldn’t bring you with him. He wanted to spend it with you as well but unfortunately couldn’t, maybe next year right?

So that’s were he was now, in the shroud manor on his bed. The place was always quite cold even in the summer months, and always darker then normal. Swelling grey clouds blocked out any sun that might have decided to show itself, chilled winds howled around the black jagged rocks that painted the coast behind an inky fog. There was a surprising amount of vegetation, most in darker hues and in a constant night time bloom. The Gothic style manor that belonged to the shroud family sat on a rather tall Hill that was close to the coast and dropped to a steep cliff on the opposite side.

His room was much larger and much cleaner then the one at Night Raven College. Near ancient black and warm grey wallpaper covered the semi dark room, candles alight with flickering blue flame. Idia layed on the large that was centered along the far wall of the room and stared with a scowl at the bookshelves lined with manga and games. It had been two days and while he’d admit, he was happier in the gloomy atmosphere and felt much more at ease, he missed you dearly, missed gameing with you, missed touching you. His hair lit up bright red and his cheeks were tinted the same color, such dirty thoughts and you weren’t even there. Well, many you weren’t there physically but… Hopefully you were awake, who was he kidding you were probably asleep… Unless? With a to thy grin on his face his pale hand reached over to grab the phone on his bedside table.

Opening it up he was greated with the sharp light of his phone screen. Squinting and adjusting to the change he smiled even more at his wallpaper. It was you and ortho(naturally). You probably had no idea this photo even existed, you had been playing with ortho one day and the youngest shroud sibling had hugged you, you two were just so cute, how could he not snap a screen shot from his tablet? Quickly he entered the Overly complicated pattern to unlock his phone.

Laying back on the soft pillows he typed away at his phone, hopeing you would respond.

11:46 p.m

Hey player-2 you awake?

Corse I am

Do you need something?

I just missed you, I’m definitely bringing you with me next time

(๑•ᴗ•๑)♡ awww you missed me? Your such a softie~

Idia let out something between a scoff and a laugh. As much as he denied it he was absolutely soft for you, well… Mostly. He sat up, back leaning against the headboard. Maybe you’d be up for a little fun? He wanted to touch you so bad but he supposed this is fine to. His hand came down to palm himself threw his sweatpants, cock growing hard at the friction

11:51 p.m

Hmm trust me um anything but soft right princess

Ohhhh~ someones confident over text hu?

Maybe you could spare a picture 😳👉👈

You loved to tease idia and get him riled up, although normally it only served to fluster him it was still worth it. You chuckled to yourself waiting for his no doubt snarky remark as you sat up in bed. You had missed him just as much since he left and part most of you wished you had accepted his offer. Then again the paranoia that it would be awkward won, that and crowlys never ending onslaught of tasks.

You could feel yourself grow wet at the thought of his cock straining against his boxers. Getting up you quickly locked the door, half shocked ramshackle even had working locks. Climbing back into bed you checked your phone.

11:55 p.m

Smartass

And yes, you can have a pic princesses

*pic*

Your face lit up red when you opened the picture. Idias cock stood in all its glory, his shirt was off and you could see the definition of his slim frame acting as a background for his length. His slender fingers were wrapped around his girth, Strands of precum were oozing out of the pink, almost purplish tip of his cock. You gulped down the lump that had formed in your throat.

You rubbed your thighs together as heat pooled in your nether regions. The red tinge on your face only grew when your mind flashed back to the feeling of his dick dragging against your walls, letting you feel every vein and part of his cock.

😳 damn Mr. Shroud

You like that princess?

Like seeing my cock so hard for you y/n? Goona put your pretty little fingers inside your dripping cunt?

Imagine it’s my cock thrusting into your pussy making you cum?

😳👉👈 maybe I will

Maybe I’ll pretend it’s you inside me

Idias cock was throbbing in his hand, his thumb rubing the tip of his cock. He wanted to see you, see your fingers buried inside yourself, hear you moaning his name. He was excited, his eyes were wild and his sharp grin was wide, the tips of his brilliant blue hair were tinged the same red that was across his cheeks. You on the other hand were a tomato, you squirmed in your place on the bed.

11:59p.m

Why don’t you call me princess, that way I can see you work yourself over the edge

Alright give me a second and I’ll get on a video call with you ❤

Quickly you stripped off your pants and panties, tossing them to the corner of the room. You got comfortable on the bed before once again picking up your phone. You started the call and idia immediately picked up the phone and turned on his camera. His hand was griping his cock as he positioned his phone makeing shure you got a full view.

“You look so good for me y/n, all wet and needy fufu, I’m so lucky, I’m the only one who gets to see this ur+ character event” His voice was low as he drank in the sight on his screen. Your legs spread apart only for him to see and your pussy dripping for him. It was a intoxicating sight and he wished it was you wrapped around his cock and not his hand.

You giggled at his words and shook your head. “Your not much better idia, all hard for me? ” You smirked. “Of course princess, see how hard I am thinking about you?” He let out a low groan as his hand started stoaking his cock. Slender fingers ran over his hardened length squeezeing slightly as he tried his best to mimic the feeling your tight walls around him. “ Come on princess, stuff yourself with your fingers and imagine my cock pounding into you.” Doing as he said your fingers rubbed circles on on your clit before dipping into your soping core. You moaned quietly to not make much noise as your fingers thrust in and out of you. “Ahh idia” Your fingers kept up their pace caressing your walls as they curled and turned inside you. “Thats right princess, your doing so good with your fingers pretending it’s my cock inside you” His dick was twitching in his hand and you could hear all of his pants and groans as his hand worked his cock. You let out a wimper and inserted another finger as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, your hips bucked into your slightly as you moaned his name. Idia was practically fucking into his hand at the sight of you so undone. “That’s it y/n, cum around your fingers like you wold my cock, I wanna see them covered in your cum just for me” Your legs shaked as the knot in your stomach snapped, you could feel your juices on your fingers as you rode out your high. Panting, idia’s hand stalled as hot sticky fluid gushed from his cock and dribbled down onto his hand.

“I miss you so much player-2, next year your definitely coming with me, raids arnt as fun without you. ”

“Y-yah, next year I’ll come with you… ” You Yawned. “Night idia, I love you player-1”

“Love you to y/n”

[underthetree845]

(dazai osamu birthday post- 2024)

A Taste of Sunlight

Dazai Osamu/gn! Reader (oneshot)

cws: gn! reader (uses of 'bella(donna)') but gender not explicitly stated, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, ada dazai, ada reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, domestic love, domestic fluff, implied mutual pining, mentions of dazai's past suicide attempts, dazai's past spoilers, dazai's dark thoughts, dazai calling himself inhuman and undeserving, baking together, dazai's birthday, reader is dazai's safe space

wc: about 3.7k

summary: how will reader make dazai feel special on his birthday when he doesn't feel like he deserves to?

a/n: this turned out a little darker with dazai's thoughts than I thought it would, but i'm satisfied with how i wrapped things up! i know it's been awhile since i posted my own writing- burnout hit me pretty hard and it's been difficult to get back on my feet, but i knew i had to do something special for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Ceilings, plaster. Can’t someone just make it move faster? Abandoned bottles of sake scattered on the tatami mat floor of his bedroom catch the light of the late morning sun as it creeps in through the curtains he keeps forgetting to close. Or rather, the curtains he can never bother to close on certain nights. He never forgets, not really. The dusty little fan in the corner of his room does little to break up the lingering staleness which hangs in the air. You should really open a window in here Dazai-kun, he heard your voice echo in the basement of his mind, Sunlight and fresh air are good for you. You were probably right. Sunlight and fresh air are good for you, everyone knows that. You somehow always are right about him. 

The sun had already found his skin that morning- or rather, the shield of cloth he uses to hide the vast nothingness underneath. The icky, inhuman blackness that he would never allow a creature like you to even brush with your fingertips. For the first time that day since observing the sun come up out his window with hollow eyes and a blank expression, Dazai sat up. Ignoring the slight ache in his head and soreness of his muscles, bandages seeming to be the only thing holding him together, Dazai arose from his futon and silently slumped to his kitchen to down a glass of water. Today was a pointless day. One that shouldn’t have happened at all. Probably one of the worst of Dazai’s life, save for a few particularly nightmarish ones. Nightmares. Maybe he’d wake up, wake up as somebody completely different; or as an old man, and realize that the countertop in front of him and fingers wrapped around the sturdy white mug in his grasp were all really from a time long gone. The mug’s black, dotted on eyes stared back up at him, Dazai’s own brown ones focused, the emotion behind them simply indescribable. Part of Dazai feared waking up too. Something light, something warm, managed to flicker in the cavern of his chest at the memory of the grin that had spread across your lips upon presenting him with the cat mug. A grin you only ever seemed to take on for his eyes. You, he should be ashamed of himself for allowing skin so pure to meet with his own bloody, bandaged hands. Muddled flesh that hardly ever got a taste of the sunlight which always seemed to bathe the surface of your skin. Dazai Osamu had always been a sinner, would it really make his eternal damnation that much worse if he decided to linger in your comforting embrace for a moment longer? 

Yes, today never should have happened. The first one so many years ago, and all the years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret that followed. The number taunted him from the calendar Kunikida had insisted he hang up on his wall, your support in the idea being the only reason he had gone through with it at all. 06 19. The nineteenth of June. June 19th. Definitely some sort of horrible mistake by the gods of this universe. If they even existed. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. Most things can be predicted- whether it be by pattern of behavior… calculated likelihood, or something else of the like. Dazai thought- and still did- that it would be tragically poetic if the date of birth and the date of death on a gravestone perfectly matched. Right down to the date of the month. Yes, a perfectly beautiful idea of a gravestone Dazai had tried a handful of times to make his own. He had the scars to prove it. Aside from empty ‘happy birthday’s from the other executives, there were only really two people in the mafia who placed any sort of importance on Dazai’s birthday.  None of that mattered now. Of course, in reality, all of it mattered. It was what led him here, to the light which now poured in through the window in the living room of his little apartment. In the almost two years Dazai had been employed at the Armed Detective Agency, he’d had one birthday. He was new enough in the office last year that the prospect of his colleagues doing anything to commemorate the event was not very keen. Such was his hope. He did get a lollipop from Ranpo and a ‘happy birthday’ from Kunikida; the blonde did not get on Dazai’s back over his paperwork for the whole day. That was, until you first stepped foot into the agency a few months into Dazai’s employment. Ironically, in spite of all the warm welcomes you received from his colleagues, the brunette found himself extremely suspicious of you. No one could possibly charm that many detectives with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile. Not just anyone could possibly hold that much warmth in their laughter and still have so much to share. That smile of yours. Dazai had ended many lives for many different reasons, despite having failed at cutting his own short so many times. Rarely did he ever spill blood to protect someone- much less because of some irrational, sentimental attachment. If not for his years in the mafia, it probably would have frightened Dazai to realize how easily he would watch the world burn if it meant that smile of yours would be safe. As it turns out, Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t just anyone- you were Name. You, who he didn’t deserve to even stand anywhere near. Who shouldn’t even bother buying someone like him some cat mug that made you think of him. He never knew he could be so emotionally attached to a piece of ceramic. But that was nothing compared to the way you made his head spin.  You would let out a giggle while calling him a flirt for the millionth time. You would share your umbrella with him on a rainy day, circle his birthday in a bright red marker on the little calendar sitting neatly on your desk. The desk right across from his. He’d pretend to not notice the glances you steal because he knows he’s far worse. Buying each other coffee on occasion- usual orders memorized. Experiencing such simple pleasures on a weekly basis- how could anyone have not expected Dazai to fall as hard as he did? 

The thing that broke him out of his trance were four soft knocks on the door. The same way you would knock on the wood of his desk to discreetly get his attention. Dazai was about to dismiss the four knocks as a phantom of his imagination before they sounded again, causing him to turn his head and peer at the door as if it had just grown a pair of wings and flown away. Before you could get the chance to knock again or ring his phone, Dazai ran a bandaged hand through his scruffy locks before brightening up his expression slightly and opening the door. And there you were- not unlike the sunlight which flooded in through the entryway, the first thing you did was send prickles of warmth into his skin and allow that smile of yours to glow. 

“Ah, Bella! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Dazai greeted you with a singsong voice, “You’re looking as radiant as ever. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dazai held his mask up for the whole sixty seconds it took you to reply. In that time, your honeyed eyes scanned over the expanse of his face in a way only you could make so overwhelming. The grin on his lips, though meticulously crafted, failed to meet his eyes. He knew you could tell the moment your irises flickered with an emotion far too deep for Dazai to have the energy to explore. You somehow always were right about him.  It didn’t take much longer for you to ask if you could come in for a while, and Dazai accepted as if he’d ever have the strength to refuse. The fabric tote bag clunked with weight as you placed it on his kitchen counter, Dazai trailed behind you as if your torsos were connected by some invisible string. His eyes reminded you of a burnt black cat.

As far as cooking came, Dazai knew how to prepare a few basic things. How to scramble eggs, how to steam rice, how to use the microwave, how to open a can of crabs. It had always been too much of a nuisance to bother with anything more. The cigarettes and sake sustained him well enough. Even so, he found himself peering over your shoulder with dark, curious eyes as you unpacked several ingredients and laid them neatly on the counter.

“My my, did you go shopping for me? How thoughtful,” a small grin played on Dazai’s lips as he held up a tiny bottle of vanilla extract with an inspectful eye. Uncapping the bottle, he took a moment to inhale the scent, goosebumps rising underneath the bandages on the back of his neck at how much it reminded him of your usual shampoo.

“You like cheesecake, right?” you asked, voice a gentle breeze as you tilted your head in his direction. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. He paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow as you cleaned your hands in the sink. How you came to acquire such a fact was beyond him. Your fingers then reached out to preheat the oven, the one he usually didn’t spare so much as a glance. “I’ve only had the chance to taste it a handful of times, but I do have to admit, I’m a fan,” Dazai replied. You were smart enough to bring your own mixing bowls, pans, and stirring utensils. Sometimes he questioned how he ever allowed you to come to know him so well. “If you wanna help me, would you mind washing your hands first, please?” you requested, and Dazai didn’t even wait a moment before turning to the sink. 

You did a better job of filling his apartment with warmth and light than the sun ever could. From the way your shoes sat at the front door right next to his own to the way your perfume would linger around after you’d taken your leave. Your fingers would cup over his own as you demonstrated how to properly stir the ingredients together. He would internally curse the persistence of the butterfly in his chest when you commented on how pretty you thought his hands were. You made his sparsely decorated, thin-walled little apartment feel just a little more like a home. Dazai waited patiently with the batter in his arms as you pressed the buttery graham cracker crust firmly into the pan. If the universe were kind, he would have been allowed to stand there and take you in until the end of time. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever deserve to have someone like you in his life. Not the way your eyes softened when they met his, not the way you flushed so beautifully in response to his compliments and praise. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to give you as much as you deserve. He didn’t even come close to deserving the trust you must have had in him that evening on the metro, when you slept on the shoulder of his coat. Both of you missed your stops that day. How could anyone have expected him to have the heart to disturb you? They were the ones who whispered how he didn’t even have one.

Before he knew it, the cake was almost ready to be placed in the oven. Your fingers cupped his own once more as you helped him pour the batter evenly before scraping the last bit out with the blue silicone spatula from your bag. He spun the pan in a circle on the countertop to even the batter as you slipped a pair of well used oven mitts onto your hands. “Looks perfect,” you offered some gentle praise and he felt his heart soften. Once the batter had been slid into the warmth of the oven, you removed the floral print oven mitts from your hands and leaned against the counter with a sigh. Dazai’s eyes were drawn to the way your fingers were delicately folded in front of you, how soft your skin looked and how it might feel against his own. From the gentle curve of your lips to how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed… he found himself at a loss. You always somehow seemed to dwindle him to a shadow of his former self, bring out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. Out of all the crimes Dazai had committed in his life, stealing your heart was by far the worst one. He didn’t think he’d be able to give your heart back if he tried, especially when you held his own so easily in the palm of your hand. “Have you had water today?” you voiced, finally turning to bless him with your gaze. “I drank some just before you came, actually,” Dazai replied, eyes briefly flickering over to the now empty cat mug sitting on the counter. “Would you care for something to drink yourself? What might suit your fancy, m’lady?” He cocked his head playfully. Your eyes regarded his thoughtfulness. A look far too fond for someone like him. Especially from someone like you. “Some water might be nice, thank you.” “You know I aim to please,” he nodded slightly, opening the fridge to get his pitcher.

A little while later, a timer went off on your phone, and Dazai tilted his head when you slid the oven mitts back on and set the cheesecake on the stovetop. “Isn’t it a bit too soon, Bella?” he inquired, leaning over your shoulder as you grabbed a little green bowl that had previously been set aside, “The center still looks a bit too mushy, doesn't it?” You hummed slightly, a pleased expression crossing your face. “Look at you, getting more adept at cooking already?” a soft grin played on your lips as you gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek. “I’m learning from the best,” Dazai replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “You’re right, it’s not quite done yet, but I’m adding the topping now so it can cook a little with the cheesecake at the very end,” you explained as you carefully poured the topping on, “It’s usually done this way. Makes it yummier.” It’s wrong, Dazai thinks, to indulge himself in your company like this. There are a million other better ways you could be spending your time. Not taking the time out of your day to come fan a flame already at the end of its wick. Even so, even if a part of Dazai might never allow himself to fully believe what you say when you tell him what kind of person he is in your precious eyes, nothing but being in your arms has ever felt so close to what others might describe as home.  Not where he grew up, not his shitty old shipping container or the mattress on its rotting floor. Not any of the places he would lie awake at night hoping to waste away or any of the many bottles of sake that have met his lips. They filled his stomach, flushed his skin, but left his chest cold, barren, empty. “Cherries are in season this time of year you know?” you said, sighing at the scent of the mashed up fruit and sugar bubbling in the pan in front of you. Combined with the warm scent of the cheesecake wafting from the oven, even Dazai, whose appetite usually didn’t amount to much at all, found his mouth beginning to water. “Are they?” he tilted his head with a fond smile, imagining what it might be like to get used to having you in his kitchen more often. What a dream it would be to have coming home mean coming home to you. You looked so perfect in his apartment it almost hurt. Whether you were curled up on the cushions of his couch, cross legged on the floor, or standing in front of the stove pouring some homemade cherry sauce over a freshly made cheesecake, he would take it all. Savor every last bit of the warmth and light with which you filled his apartment.  “Why don’t you open a window in here before we start eating?” you suggested, and Dazai let out a breath of resigned amusement. He stood from where he had been leaning against the countertop and strolled over to the living room. “Hm, Bella, don’t people usually eat cheesecake cold?” Dazai wondered, looking back at you for a moment as you grabbed a pair of forks from a drawer. “Yeah, they do,” you replied, placing two equally sized slices of cheesecake onto one of the plates from Dazai’s cabinet. He didn’t have to remind you where they were kept. “But personally I like eating it warm, I always have,” your lips curved up into a smile, “especially when it’s freshly baked. Makes it yummier.” “Huh, well I trust your opinion,” he offered a slight smile, returning to take a seat at the little round table just as the two plates were lowered. The cheesecake looked even more appetizing now that it had been neatly sliced and plated, but nothing made him want to eat it more than the fact that it had been prepared by the loveliest pair of hands he had ever met. 

Dazai took notice of the way you held your breath when he took his first bite; you shouldn’t have been so anxious for the approval from the likes of him, yet he found it hard to get himself to care when you looked so downright adorable while doing it. His eyelids slid shut for a brief moment, being sure to completely savor the mouthful before swallowing with a bob of his throat and finally meeting your gaze with his own. “Bella…” Dazai started, hands unmoving, voice lower than usual. You furrowed your brows when you couldn’t decipher his tone. “What is it? Is it okay?” you leaned forward, eyes searching his face for any sort of indication. “Do… do you not like it?” something pulled tight in your chest at the thought, your grip on your fork stiffened slightly, “It’s okay if you don’t, you can say so.” The following heartbeat of silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity. “Bella you’ve ruined me,” he sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat and placing the back of his hand on his forehead in exasperation, “How am I ever supposed to enjoy anyone else’s cheesecake ever again?” His heart nearly melted when you paired a blink with the slightest tilt of your head, he could see the wheels in your mind turning for answers. “So you… do like it?” you spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb whatever strange state of emotion Dazai was using to express his feelings about the cheesecake. “No, my Dear, I’m afraid ‘like’ isn’t nearly a strong enough word, not even close!” he suddenly sat up straight in his seat, “I love it so much, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy cheesecake ever again unless you make it for me.” Finally, Dazai gets his reward when a grin splits onto your lips. “Is that so?” you giggle when he cups your hands between his own and nods urgently. That smile of yours. “Absolutely. You’ve doomed me to a pathetic existence,” Dazai pretended to cringe in pain, “forever wandering in search of the joy I once experienced, never knowing if-” “...I’ll do it again,” you said, and his ears perked up. “Hmm? What was that? You’ll do what again?” he raised his eyebrows, satisfied with the flush now evident on your cheeks. “I’ll make you cheesecake for your next birthday, and the one after that, and any time you want some in between,” you smiled sweetly, and Dazai’s heart leapt at your sincerity. “Do you mean it?” his eyes seemed to light up slightly, matching the sparkle in your own. He squeezed your hands. 

There was a saying in the Port Mafia. ‘The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.’ Whether they called him a demon prodigy or the black wraith or a dog of the mafia really made no difference. When the sun set, they would be the ones quivering at the barrel of his gun as he listened to their pleas with cold, dead eyes. Dazai has been called by many names throughout his life; most, he knew, were well deserved. Even when addressed by his own name, it was usually out of exasperation, irritation, unease, or something else of the like. People spat his name with the bitter bite of a cold rain, and he couldn’t even remember the last time someone uttered his given name very tenderly at all. It was dangerous, Dazai thought, how easily he could see himself growing used to being with you like this. Pathetic, how the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia was reduced to a shell of himself the moment you offered so much as a smile. The way you said his name made him seem like something precious; something worthy of getting to see that smile of yours, to have your eyes light up when they meet his. 

“Happy birthday, Osamu,” you said, and god your voice had never sounded sweeter. Yes, you’ve ruined him. Absolutely ruined him. Reduced him to a shadow of his former self with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile, and the worst of it all was that you didn’t even know it. You tore away all those layers of bandages, you reached out and touched something Dazai didn’t even know he had. Even as his heart bled, you would cradle it close to your chest, whisper sweet nothings that everything would be alright. Dazai found himself inclined to believe you. Perhaps the reason he seemed to be without a heart for all those years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret, was because it had been with you all along. 

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

a/n: thank you so much for reading! it means a lot- i hope you have a lovely day/night/morning/evening and remember to drink plenty of water! divider credit: (x) (x) tagging: @ringsofsaturnnnn

[miabebe]

The Legend of The Sea

"You're crying? You must be turning human, the MerFolk don't cry."

"Of course we do. Why do you think the Sea is nothing but salt?"

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol × reader Genre: Heavy Angst, Romance, Implied smut Word count: 14K (completed) A/N: This was supposed to be a very long fic with lots of dialogue and lot of plot but I decided to take a turn and write a shorter version! It's very different from my usual writing style, it would be great to receive your thoughts and comments! I'm considering writing a epilogue if the response is good :) Tags: @xcynthiaaa @dr3aluv5 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @orcasandtea @letsplayitcool @idubutily

It all started the day you woke up on the beach with that unbearable pain searing through you.  

The air was cool, the sand was hot; the seagulls were flying across the blue sky, the sound of the waves was like a beautiful melody – it was like a perfectly painted picture. It should have felt pleasant, it should have felt serene, instead you felt immense pain, like your guts were turning inside out and your chest was being split into two.

And it just wouldn’t stop. Even if you thrashed about in the sand or let out soundless screams clutching your chest, nothing could make the pain stop.  

Except the soft laughter.  

Someone else was here. 

As the pain ebbed at the sound of a voice, fear came rushing in its place.  

Someone else was here.   

Your instincts told you to hide so you did, scrambling to your knees in the sand, crouching behind one of the many large boulders scattered around, trying your best not to be found. And to not let curiosity get the better of you….. until it eventually did.

You allowed yourself to peak, just a little, just to put a face to the voice and instead saw a bouncing fluffy cloud of white. Strange. You didn’t know clouds came down like that. Or that they had eyes, because suddenly, this one looked right at you.

You immediately retreated back into your hiding but it was in vain - within seconds, it made its way over and much to your surprise, jumped right into your lap, covering you in wet, eager licks. You panicked, trying to defend yourself, although it didn’t feel like much of an attack.  

And that was when you saw him.  

First, he was just a silhouette, a dark outline against the sun but when he crouched down to meet your eye, you realised he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He had such pretty hazel eyes, lighter in the middle, darker on the outside. Then there were the thick, dark eyebrows and thicker darker hair, swept back by the wind. He was wearing a white dress shirt, the first two buttons (unnecessarily) undone, the sleeves (needlessly) pushed up to his elbow. But your eyes were stuck on his lips – red, full of life and moving – he was saying something.   

You can’t hear him, not with the way your stomach was turning and turning and turning and then unable to hold back, you gave in. You turned and doubled up, finally throwing up all that discomfort into the sand, breaking into a fit of cough. The man before you though, wasn’t fazed. Rather, he was efficient, quickly getting up, pulling you away from the mess gently and handed you the bottle of water he had on him. You refused - water was only making you more nauseous.

He didn’t insist, instead he unfolded a large piece of cloth, (later you learnt that it was called a picnic blanket) and threw it over you. It was only its warmth that you realised – unlike him, every bit of your skin was exposed. You held the fabric closer to yourself hoping you could just bury yourself in the sand instead of having to face him – something about the way he looked at you made you feel very vulnerable.  

He then asked if you were feeling okay but only received silence as an answer. The truth was, you weren’t. Not only were you in the middle of nowhere, you had no idea why or how you got there. It seemed like he understood that; like he realised you were lost and needed help. When he got up and held his hand out though, you didn’t take it. Instead, you took support of the boulder behind you and got up on your own, only to lose your footing and stumble right into his arms. You instantly pulled yourself away and took another faltering step and then another, and then fell right back into his arms again. He was amused but didn’t say or do anything except watch you try, ankles sinking in the sand, knees unfaithfully giving away every time, until finally you gave up and took his hand. Slowly and silently, he led you far away from there.  

That day you learnt his name was SeungCheol.  

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That white cloud, Kkuma, was apparently what humans called a dog.  

While humans efficiently seemed to walk on two legs and could converse for hours, dogs apparently walked on four legs and couldn’t talk. Though you certainly looked like a human, you often wondered if you and Kkuma were the same. You too happened to find long hours of walking and talking difficult and more than anything, you didn’t seem to enjoy the company of other humans that much. That’s why the last one month, you spent most of your time with Kkuma, far away from most people, all the way across the town, in a small settlement between the lake and the mountains, in Seungcheol’s cottage.  

Seungcheol’s home was your safe haven. Rather, Seungcheol was your safe haven.  

When you were with him, when you looked at him, you always forgot that it had been four weeks and you still had no idea who you were, that you had no memories, you had no life.  

Because Seungcheol gave you a life. He taught you to walk the way you saw mothers hold the hands of their little babies, encouraging them to take a step forward. He taught you to read, scribbling away alphabets with you for hours on end, even when little children laughed at you for not understanding. He taught you that a fork was not the same thing as a comb and that water was used to wash yourself, and that fire was hot and burnt things.

He didn’t just teach you things, he cared for you. He noticed you liked the red and filled your wardrobe with red dresses. When you told him you really liked the taste of fish, fish was all he cooked for weeks. Though he never seemed to like being away from Kkuma, his little princess, he would always leave her behind to give you company whenever he left. 

Seungcheol left the house every morning at the break of down. So did most men, you noticed. The lady who lived down the stone pathway told you that men went out to make money while their wives, who stayed at home, cooked for them. That day you tried to cook for the first time, and asked Seungcheol if you were his wife. He laughed, then choked on a fish bone and asked you to leave all the cooking to him from here on and so you did.

Every day, Seungcheol would cook before he left while you stood beside him, watching in awe, handing him whatever he asked for. You usually ate breakfast and lunch with the animals in the stable but you always had dinner with Seungcheol. No matter how long he was gone for, end of the day, he always made it back to you.   

You watched the sun slowly setting behind the mountains. He should be here soon, which was why you shouldn’t be sitting by the lake anymore. Seungcheol always warned you to maintain a safe distance from it, to never go too near. He said it was dangerous, that people drown because they cannot breathe under water. You had seen it.  

When the woodcutter’s young boy fell into the lake a few weeks ago, you watched him thrash in the water, struggling to come up. A few brave people jumped in to save him but the boy never came out again. Everyone in town was scared of the lake, they hated it. Only the old ‘crazy’ lady that lived by the edge of the forest ever went near it. She wasn’t afraid of it; she said the lake was barely dangerous - it was the sea that was bad. That it had terrifying monsters and horrors that should never be uncovered. She liked the lake and honestly, so did you.

You liked how it never really felt cold and how the temperature was always just nice. You liked how all the fish swam up to you whenever you dangled your feet in, sitting by the bank, how at peace it all made you feel.  

But when you saw Hannie in the sky, you immediately pulled your legs out of the water and hid the wetness of your feet under the fabric of your long skirt. Hannie was Seungcheol’s other pet, a pretty, baby white dove. He wasn’t a pet, not really, he belonged to the skies but Hannie loved to follow Seungcheol everywhere and Seungcheol loved it just as much. Actually, the whole town seemed to love white doves – it was on their flags, their shields, their uniforms. Seungcheol said it was the emblem of the kingdom. You had no idea what that meant, and frankly you didn’t care much. All that mattered was that whenever you spotted this little white bird, instantly recognisable by the small tinge of red right in the middle of its chest, it meant Seungcheol was home. As it softly landed on the fence, right before the sun was completely engulfed by the mountains, you heard Seungcheol’s horse and opened the gates to let them in.  

Over dinner, Seungcheol told you about the fight that broke in the marketplace. It’s a funny place the market, something always seemed to be happening there. On the weekends, you would follow him through it as he went vendor to vendor, making his purchases. The people of the market were actually sweet. They would always smile and try to talk to you but you could never bring yourself to talk back, you could never find the right words to say. Instead, you’d simply stare blankly then move closer to Seungcheol, holding on to him. Eventually, they all started assuming you couldn’t speak. You didn’t correct them and looking at your reluctance, neither did Seungcheol. He would simply wave them away, or shoo the kids who seemed to tease you. As long as you were outside, Seungcheol would never leave your side or your hand.  

You didn’t like going out very much, the big crowds and all those loud noises were always highly uncomfortable but the few times Seungcheol insisted you come with him and said it would be fun, it was actually not that bad. He took you to the town’s lights festival, where every inch of the streets and houses was covered with the prettiest coloured lights, and also to the annual horse racing competition which was exhilarating beyond belief. Your favourite though was children’s drama day, when the little kids of the town participated in skits looking a lot, lot smaller than the original characters were supposed to be. He didn’t though, take you to that big feast that happened in the castle. You didn’t really mind – something about the castle was just very unnerving.  

It stood tall and proud, all the way at the edge of the town, up a long winding route, at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the sea waters. Initially you had no idea what a castle even was, but over time you learnt that it was where the king lived. The king was the most important person in the town and supposedly the kindest, wisest and strongest man too. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought Seungcheol was the king. Afterall, he helped everyone in the neighbourhood, he solved the fights in the markets, he protected the settlement from the wild dogs and other beasts of the forest. But Seungcheol was not the king. The king lived in the castle and Seungcheol lived with you.  

After dinner, like every other day, you sat in Seungcheol’s study, practicing writing your alphabets as he went through endlessly long scrolls of his own. Today when you handed him your work, he scolded you yet again for rushing through the last few lines. You knew you shouldn’t have but you can never help it because the faster you finished, the sooner Seungcheol would read to you. Granted you knew how to read now but you weren’t really good at it, not everything made sense. The small books were easy but they were boring - it was always about animals and children and other things. The big books were where everything interesting was.  

Every night before you went to sleep, Seungcheol would bring out a book, sitting down by the fireplace and you would curl up next to him, leaning over as he read to you. Sometimes he would read out history, recounts of great wars and heroes and sometimes about legends, the fire breathing dragons, sea monsters, fairies in the woods. While you listened to all of them with the same fascination and curiosity, a selected few made you feel somewhat…..different – the ones about true love. About two people fighting all odds to be together. About two people wanting to be with each other more than anything.

Whenever Seungcheol read those to you, you somehow saw yourself in those words. Or rather, those words in you. You found that ‘quickening heartbeat’ whenever your hand brushed against the man beside you. His compliments made the ‘heat in your cheeks rise’. There was a constant ‘nervous fidgeting of the fingers’ when you were around him and sharing of the ‘secret glances’. Even now as he was reading you were looking at him, at the way his lips were moving and how soft they looked and wondering how much softer they would feel against yours.

When Seungcheol turned to you, sensing your eyes on him, meeting them without hesitation, you could have leaned in, you could have found out. But you didn’t; you didn’t dare. Instead, you looked down at the book, at the pictures of the prince and princess dancing, wondering if you too had a happily ever after written in your fate.  

Maybe it was, because a few days later, when Seungcheol looked at you like that again, you didn’t hold back anymore. You didn’t want to. This time you leaned in, gently pressing your lips onto his, discovering much to your relief that they were indeed every bit as soft as they looked. His eyes widened when you pulled back immediately, but he didn’t say or do anything. Then a silence followed, heavy with confusion and anticipation and so many other things that you couldn’t quite fathom so you quickly excused yourself from there stating it might rain and you forgot to close your bedroom windows.

As you shut the doors of your room behind you, hand on your chest, you felt your heart racing away but you should have been at peace, right? You had finally plucked up the courage and satiated all that bubbling curiosity. Instead, you felt like you were going to lose your mind – now that you had a taste, you wanted more.   

Days passed before you finally kissed him again.

It was on a rainy night and you were sitting closer to him than usual, as though the fire was not enough to keep you warm. It started the same way, first a few stolen glances, then a long silent stare and then you were kissing him, soft and sweet but this time he pulled back and you didn't let him. Instead you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, holding him close, whispering that you wanted to do it again. He listened, kissing you back but it was different this time and god did it set off something in you.

His lips became demanding, and his hands were everywhere - in your hair, running down your back, on your waist. He took your breath away, quite literally because he just wouldn't stop and you couldn’t breathe. You didn't want to either but after what felt like eternity, you had to break apart, feeling all giddy. Seungcheol then gave you the brightest smile and one last peck. 

That went on for many more days. Sometimes it was sweet and simple, sometimes hot and heavy. Initially the books were your only witness then there were more. The peaking sun as he gave you a peak before he left in the mornings, the pots and pans of the kitchen while he focused on you instead of the burning bread, and kkuma, when he forgot to seek while she hid, his attention on your mouth instead. Everything was going blissful.

Then one day Seungcheol didn't come home even after the sun set.

You waited by the gate for a long time, but neither Hannie, nor Seungcheol, nor his horse could be seen. That was the first night you spent alone - shivering in the cold and terrified. The storms had begun outside, the rain was drowning everything in its way and as each hour passed, you sunk deeper and deeper into despair.

Even when the sun came up again the rain didn't stop, the pain didn't stop. Though you hadn't slept or eaten in hours you only thought about him. Even kkuma got tired of waiting and curled up in the warmest spot in the house but you stood by the door the whole time until you couldn't anymore.  

Not when you saw finally saw Hannie in the sky but Seungcheol didn't follow. That was when you knew something was terribly wrong. You immediately grabbed a lamp and were ready to set off to find him on your own when you saw the paper tied to the bird’s little foot. I'll be back soon it read in the handwriting you recognised was Seungcheol's, a wave of relief crashing over you.  

But it took very, very long for 'soon’ to come.

The rain had stopped, the sun had set, the sky had cleared and the stars were pitifully watching the way you sat against the door, desperately fighting your eyes threatening to fall shut. That was when you felt Seungcheol's hand on your face, gently tucking your hair behind your ear.  

You instantly got up, throwing yourself into his arms and for the first time ever, broke down, sobbing into his chest. He held you like that for as long as you didn't let him go, softly patting you, telling you it was okay, and that he's home. There was apparently a landslide near the mountains and he had to help the people stuck there but you didn't care what his reasons were. You were never going to let him go ever again, you'd fight the sun from coming up tomorrow morning if needed.

Seungcheol simply laughed and said first you should fight your stomach, it seemed like it was struggling in there. It was only when you admitted you hadn't eaten since last night that he let you go and walked into the kitchen to whip you a quick morsel.

That night he said he was too tired to read to you. Instead, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead with an apology and was about to retire to his room when you held him by the hand, scared to let him go again. He tried to comfort you but the tears just wouldn’t stop, not until he cupped your cheek and kissed you, whispering about how he missed this, how he missed you. You confessed that you did too, and his absence made you feel terrible, like never before.

Let me make you feel good then he said. But if he wanted to help you, why did it seem like he was pleading? Like if you didn't agree he would lose it? So you agreed, letting him do whatever he wanted, whatever he needed.

His mouth was hot on yours, hands wandering all over and when they tugged the strings of your dress, you let out an inaudible gasp against his lips. He swallowed your words, undressing you slowly, with his hands and his eyes. You felt so bare, so exposed yet you didn't feel like hiding from him - you wanted him to explore you however he could and god did he do it.

If you thought his mouth on yours felt good, the places he put it now were wild. It was like he somehow knew every sensitive bit of your skin and went straight for it. He wasn't lying, this was better than good, it felt euphoric. He unravelled you with his touch, his hands in places even you hadn't felt yourself. You wanted more, you wanted so much more and he gave it, over and over again, letting you feel every inch of him, reaching as deep inside you as he could, like any distance between the both of you was unbearable. You let him consume you in his fire as the pain turned to a pleasure like never before, a coil tightening in the pits of your being. The both of you whispered each other’s names for as long as you could hold it until you finally let go and so did he, filling you with every last essence of him. As you laid side by side breathless, staring at the roof, you saw the stars have come down, swirling across the ceiling and you fell into a deep slumber.  

When you woke up that morning, the sun was almost right on top of the cottage, half the day having already passed. Seungcheol didn't leave that day, instead he was right there, pressed against your back, wrapping you in his embrace, your limbs messily tangled with each other’s. When you tried to free yourself from him, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck, taking in as much of you as he could before he said he had to leave again. I'll come back to you, he promised and you did not let him see how tears brimmed in your eyes as you waved him away.

After that day though, you never cried again. Or ever slept in your own bedroom. Like promised every night Seungcheol returned to you and every night you lay between the sheets together, some days making love, some days simply talking and laughing away, some days just drifting away to sleep in each other’s arms. It truly felt like happily every after but you forgot, happily ever after was only for fairytales.

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It was just another normal day. The both of you had woken up as usual to the crowing of the rooster before dawn. You gathered the vegetables in the garden while Seungcheol made the most wonderful soup, perfect for a cold day. After he kissed you goodbye and left, you cleaned the stables, drew water from the well, tended to the garden, washed up, donned your favourite red dress, ate lunch, took a nap, played with kkuma, and finally, sat by the lake again, trying to catch your breath. It was the same routine as the last eight weeks.  

As you unconsciously plucked on the grass, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to a question that had been plaguing you these days. Was this all your life was going to be? The same routine, waking up everyday knowing it was going to be the exact same as yesterday and will be the exact same as tomorrow? Sure, you loved Seungcheol and Kkuma and Hannie and this little life you had built together, but you couldn’t help but think if you were made for something more. This couldn’t be it right?  

It wasn’t. And you were moments away from finding out.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t notice Hannie in the sky until he landed right next to you, making you hurriedly jump to your feet to get away from the lake only for your damned dress to get tangled between your feet, making you fall right into the waters. Thank God Seungcheol had reached just in time to see you disappear under the surface and immediately dived in. Using all his might he pulled you up before you were lost in the depths, coughing and catching his breath as he crawled onto the bank.

That was the first day things went very, very differently.  

Instead of greeting Seungcheol like you usually did every day, you shivered, walking away into the house to dry yourself. You didn’t change into another red dress but a blue on this time that made even Seungcheol raise an eyebrow in surprise. Dinner was not the same too. The kimchi which never ran out had finally run out, there was apparently no fish in the market today and seungcheol bought eggs for the first time. When he insisted you would like the taste, you tried it and you indeed did like it, a lot. He grinned at you and said you could always trust his word but how could you anymore? 

He told you to stay away from the lake, that people couldn’t breathe under it but when you fell in, you could. In there you felt, if not more, just as alive and breathing and the water – it spoke to you. At first you were sure you were dying - you should have listened to Seungcheol, you should have stayed away but here you were in the middle of the lake, so close to death that you were hallucinating voices. But when you realised you were actually breathing, you listened. 

Finish your mission Y/n. Finish the mission and you can become who you really are again. You can join the waters again. 

You didn’t understand.  

That night instead of a fairytale, you ask Seungcheol to tell you about the legend of the sea again so he did.

Centuries ago, back when there was magic on Land, there was an ancient war between two of the most powerful kingdoms of Earth – the Chois and the Kangs. They battled tirelessly, day and night, for months to the point where uncountable bodies began piling, resources began running out and even the heavens begged them to stop - there would be nothing left of the Earth this way. But that’s the thing about power – relinquishing it was not an option.  

Finally, one unfortunate day, the Chois gained an upper hand in battle, forcing the Kangs to seek refuge in hiding. The Kangs though, disappeared overnight - though the Chois searched every corner of Land, they could not find them. It was only when they sort to use magic to find them that victors of the battle realised, they had lost their most prized possession – the Sceptre. The sceptre was like the motherboard of all magic on Earth – it was the source. After years of combing every inch of Land, the Chois finally came to the conclusion that the Kangs and the Sceptre were in the one place that no one on Land could reach – The Sea.  

Indeed, powered by magic, the entire kingdom of the Kangs and all those who stood by their side had retreated into the ocean, making a life for themselves there. Using the magic, they kept themselves alive, preparing once again to battle for what they believed was rightfully theirs. But the Earth could not take another war, at this rate, nothing would be left and so, the Council of the Land and the Council of the Sea were formed, to keep peace between both kingdoms. After months of debate, both councils came to a Pact.

The Kangs were allowed to keep the magic but were forbidden from ever stepping on Land. The very magic they stole was used to strip them of their ability to breath air, forcing them to stay in the waters for life. The Chois on the other hand, were allowed to rule Land but were never to see magic again – the Land would not know of it and would not use it anymore. And most importantly, the Land and the Sea were never to meet. Every single ship in sight was burnt, boats were torn apart, walls were built at the border of every coastal city.  

Over generations, not only did the Land never interact with the Sea but they began to fear it, malicious stories of monsters and merpeople making their way into children’s bedtime stories and fairytales. A few brave, rebellious souls would try to break The Pact and venture into the Sea but no one really lived to tell the tale.

Seungcheol said that there will never be anyone with a tale to tell because like all legends, this too was no more than just a story and a speculation. But for the first time, you don’t believe him.  

Instead, you think merpeople truly do exist and as impossible as it sounded, you might just be one of them

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You looked at the pretty red dress you had laid out on the bed for today.  

Today was important for more than one reasons.

Today was the annual citizen’s banquet, which meant it was the first time you were going to the castle. Today was also the first time you were going to see the king and most importantly, today was also probably the day you were going to find out who you really are.  

You didn’t tell Seungcheol about what happened that day in the lake. Maybe because he believed that the Legend of the Sea was not true or because you yourself were not sure you entirely believed it, but somehow you, who told Seungcheol about everything, didn’t tell him about this. You needed more confirmation first, you needed to go into the lake once more.

But surprisingly, the lake you once liked so much looks more daunting now. You were not afraid of drowning, rather you were afraid what being able to survive the waters would mean. You kept avoiding it, telling yourself one day you couldn’t go in there because you had to brine the vegetables and that you had to bathe the cows or whatever other excuse you could find until one day all the chores were over and you ran out of excuses. You had to go in now.  

Carefully looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, you sat down on the bank, put a foot first, then the other, then slowly lowered yourself in, submerging into the waters, kkuma’s barks fading out, the voices taking over.  

Finish your mission Y/n and join the waters again.  

It was true.  

You weren’t imagining things, you were indeed breathing in there, the voices were real, everything was ridiculously real. It didn’t make any sense but it also really did. The water felt like home, like you belonged. You could swim much faster, better than you could walk. You felt stronger, more powerful, more like you in there. Even though the lake looked like it held darkness, you could clearly see everything below – the animals, the plants, the life, all of it. Oh, you wanted to join the waters, you wanted to be here forever.

But when you opened your mouth to ask what the mission was, only the gurgling sound of bubbles left you. Somehow just the thought was enough because you heard the answer soon enough and it sent a chill down your spine.  

Kill the King.  

You looked at yourself in the mirror, donning your dress.

The price for finding out who you were was to kill the king, the most important man in the town.

You couldn’t.

Taking the life of another could not be the price of your truth. So, you had decided to forget about it. It was wrong and unethical and whoever asked you of that had clearly lost their mind except….. it was you.

The more you thought about it, the more you could not deny it – the voice in the lake was your own, as though you had left yourself a message, a reminder. Why on Earth would you want to kill the king? Then again, how did you, someone who clearly belonged to The Sea, find themselves on land? Why was it that you remembered nothing?

Maybe killing the king had a bigger purpose, a noble one, after all, all kings were not necessarily good.  

You had to find out. You had to meet him and see for yourself.

And as though the universe was aligning things into place for you, the night you decided to ask Seungcheol about visiting the castle, he mentioned that the king was arranging a grand banquet to which all citizens of the town were invited. He said if you were not comfortable you didn’t have to go but you cut him off much to his surprise, insisting that you want to attend.  

That’s how days later you found yourself standing at the gates of the castle as the crowd of town poured into the estate on either side of you. Seungcheol was supposed to pick you up tonight but instead there was a carriage waiting for you, with a message relayed by the footman that he got caught up in something and will meet you in the banquet.

The banquet was arranged in a large hall right in the middle of the castle and it was perhaps the most stunning place you had ever seen. The stone walls were covered in drapes of red and purple, the large windows shining with the views of prettily trimmed gardens. There were beautiful paintings everywhere, statues of men in armour and food of all kinds being serve around. Almost the whole town fraternised under the large golden chandelier, each dressed better than the other, chattering away in small whispers. You stayed near the large pillars of stone, as far away from the crowd as possible, eyes still looking for Seungcheol, ears trying to tune out all that people were saying around you.  

But you couldn’t ignore the loud sound of the trumpet as it echoes through the hall, followed by an announcement that the King had arrived. As your heart thumped away in your chest, he appeared, at the top of the stairs that led down into the hall, dressed in what you thought was rather simple for a king. You wanted to move closer to get a better look as he descended down the stairs but you realised everyone around you was bowing down to him so you mirrored it, staring at the white marble of the floor. Its only when a pair of pretty leather shoes appear right before you that you allow yourself to look up, facing the one person you were to see tonight – the king.

He was nothing like you hoped. He didn’t look malicious, or evil or like he was even capable of doing something wrong. He had the kindest eyes, crinkled with crows’ feet as he smiled at you so warmly, you felt nothing but comfort. Only one other person in this whole town ever made you feel safe like that. From the looks of his salt and pepper hair, he looked like he was aging, and the wisdom that came with time also shone on his face. He smiled so pleasantly, didn’t dress in a way that showed off all his wealth, and didn’t seem to harbour any sort of superiority because the moment the music swelled to life, he held his hand out to ask you, a commoner, for a dance.  

The whole town looked at you as though they were waiting so you placed your hand on his, letting him lead you to the middle of the floor as everyone else immediately moved to pick partners of their own.

Seungcheol had taught you how to dance. When you expressed your interest to go to the banquet, he told you there would also be a dance accompanying it and showed you how it was done. He was so patient with you, even though you stepped on his foot and banged his head with yours a few hundred times, bursting into a string of apologies whenever you did. But he only laughed, holding you close and dancing with you through the rainy night. You wondered where he was right now but that was the least of your worries considering you were dancing with the man you were deemed to kill and to your absolute disappointment, you could not find one reason to do so.  

You hoped so hard that you were right, that the king was a bad man and you were given this mission to make things right but he wasn’t. As much as you tried to not eavesdrop, you still heard whatever the people around you were whispering away. They were all in praises of him. They said he was a great man and under his ruling, the town was doing better than ever. They said the harvest was good thanks to him, that the they were safe from invasion thanks to him and were all living well thanks to him.

A part of you knew they were right – you had seen how happy and peaceful the townspeople always were, something that was only possible if they were in good hands. You could see for yourself what a wonderful man the king seemed to be and how everyone truly seemed to love and cherish him.

But a part of you didn’t want to believe that. You had to find a reason, something had to be wrong, you needed to justify why killing him was important. That was the only way to find out who you are.  

And as though the universe which had been so helpful so far decided now was the time to create chaos, the trumpet echoes through the hall again, announcing the arrival of the crown prince. When you see the person standing at the top of the stairs, you instant freeze, feeling your guts twist the way they did the first time you ever saw him – Seungcheol.  

Seungcheol was a prince. He was the crown prince of this land which meant he was the first born of the king.

That meant...... your mission was to kill the father of the man you loved.

As the townspeople gathered in the gardens below, you stood in a balcony of the castle, looking at the stars dancing in the sky.  

The whole night you had been feeling nothing but numb. The moment Seungcheol had appeared you excused yourself from the king, rushing out of the hall, trying not to throw up. Seungcheol immediately followed asking if you were okay but you didn’t answer. You did not see things unfolding this way. Not only did you not find a single reason why you had to kill the King, now you had one for why you shouldn’t do it.  

Seungcheol asked again, looking for answers in your expression but you just looked away, muttering that you had no idea he was the prince. He said he wasn’t trying to hide it from you, he just didn’t think about it. The whole town knew he was the crown prince so he never had to introduce himself that way. Besides, he didn't like to his status as royalty to define him so he didn’t usually mention it to anyone. As far as why he didn’t live in the castle was concerned, he started living in the cottage when he was 14 years old. That house was his mother’s, before the king and her fell in love and got married. After she passed away in the childbirth of her second child, he moved there so he could feel closer to her. His father too thought it was good for him to live among his subjects, to learn their problems and to gain their trust.  

You had nothing but silence to offer in return. It was all too much, all at once.  

The loud whispers of the town started fading out as the King walked in, standing among them. Seungcheol didn’t look too happy as he stared at the scene below him. He said he was worried about his father. You felt that churning feeling in your stomach once again. He said that he was getting old and it was getting harder for him to negotiate with neighbouring kingdoms, to keep war at bay. You didn’t understand what he meant.

He claimed the town was happy now but 3 months ago, nothing was going well. Their kingdom was under attack, everyone’s lives were threatened, the future looked very bleak. The king had somehow managed to save everyone then but unknown to the people, it was temporary. His father tried his best to negotiate and talk to the neighbouring kingdoms but there was no use – war has been declared against them yet again and he was worried King Choi was not strong enough for battle.

You held his hand stroking the back of it softly. He then apologised to you, confusing you even more. You asked him why but you had an idea already – he was taking his father’s place in war; he was going to lead the army.  

You felt as though someone pulled the ground below your feet and Seungcheol’s grip on your hand was the only thing saving you from falling. As crown prince it was his duty and you knew and understood but the thought of being away from him again was killing you on the inside. He said he wouldn’t be gone for long but you know what war meant - there was no guarantee of him even returning.

You hugged him shaking your head, refusing to let him go or insisting that he take you along with him but he simply hugged you back claiming that was not possible, it was dangerous. He told you to move to the castle while he was gone. Here you would be taken care of, you wouldn’t be lonely and most importantly, you would have the chance to get closer to his father.

You froze.  

Seungcheol let you go, making you sit on the moss-covered stone bench, sitting next to you. He said he wanted to leave you in good hands in case he didn’t make it back. You refused to listen to anything else, he promised he would always come back to you, that meant he had to come back. He laughed at your futile stubbornness, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with a strange longing. You give him a soft peck on his lips to let him know he had no reason to long for you, you were always his. He pulled you in for more, taking your face in his hands, his mouth desperate against yours, like it was the last time, like a silent goodbye etched in his kiss.

It was only when the applause rang downstairs that he let you go, pressing his forehead on yours, sighing. You felt tears threaten your eyes once again as he caressed your cheek with his thumb softly, like he was trying to memorise how your face felt under his touch. He said he wished he had longer with you, he wished had done this earlier and slid onto the gravel floor onto his knees, looking up at you softly.  

Marry me, he whispered, holding your hands. 

You stared at him wordlessly as the sky behind you came alive with lights, fireworks prettily burning against the black canvas of the night. Maybe a few days ago if he asked you would have said yes without him even needing to finish. You would marry him right there and then but now you were torn. Kill the King. The words were constantly ringing in your head. How could you marry him if your mission was to…..  

He understood your silence as hesitance, saying you didn’t have to answer now, you could tell him when he returned - that way he would have something he had to come back for. He then pulled out a small necklace from his pocket, making you wear it, saying it was a reminder of him while he was away. You touched the pendant, feeling it with your fingers. It wasn’t like any jewel you had ever seen - it didn’t shine, it was an odd shape and it looked rather dull. He said it was a shell and it was from the sea.  

If he noticed your shocked reaction and stuttering as you asked him how he got it , he didn’t mention it. Instead, he answered that there was a path from behind his cottage that led to the other side of the forest, to a sea cave where land and sea met fearlessly. Before you came into his life, that was his favourite place to go - he often spent his free time there and that’s where he found this.  

You wonder if it’s a sign from the universe, receiving a part of the ocean at a time when you didn’t know what to choose.  

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The next morning, trumpets rang through the entire town, announcing that the neighbouring kingdom had declared war and the crown prince was leading the army to fight. People spilled onto the streets to watch the armoured and determined cavalry going to serve their kingdom, Seungcheol leading the troop all the way in front on his horse. You stood at the highest terrace of the castle, watching him leave, going further and further away, until the distance engulfed him and you couldn’t see him anymore. You barely had him to yourself for five minutes in the morning to say goodbye before he was called away. You convinced yourself that all this was temporary anyways, he would come back.  

With a heavy heart, you walked down the wide corridors of the palace, kkuma following your every step. You lived here now. Seungcheol had people shift your few things from the cottage to his room in the castle. Though the bed was beyond comfortable and the room was bigger than the whole cottage you lived in previously, you didn’t spend much time in there. Instead, you roamed around the gardens and corridors or stepped out into the marketplace that you never ventured in without Seungcheol by your side. Any place was better than his room. It reeked of loneliness and most importantly, it overlooked the sea. As much as the breeze gave you unexplainable comfort, it was also a constant reminder of your mission.  

As time passed, you found yourself less and less inclined to fulfilling your task. You tried your best to not let yourself be swayed but in vain – you could not help but like the king. He was nothing but welcoming and kind to you. Maybe Seungcheol told him or maybe it was just a constant in the Choi family, but he insisted that every night you join him for dinner. He would ask about your day and make light conversation, but unlike Seungcheol, he would retire early to bed. He was sick. You could see in the way he coughed through his meal, the way his eyes keep fluttering shut in tiredness towards the end of the night. Yet he did all he could to make sure you were alright.

He introduced you to the library in the castle and if you thought Seungcheol’s study had a large collection of books, this place was massive. Books were lined all the way up till the ceiling, there were all sorts of maps and globes scattered all over the room, shelfs lined with little trinkets and souvenirs from his travels. The King explained that Seungcheol like his mother, loved to explore and like him, loved science and this library was where it all came together. He used to be unstoppable ever since he was a child and his curiosity always landed him in trouble – the whole town was banned from stepping on the beach but nothing could stop him. He always wanted to explore the sea.  

It surprised you to learn about Seungcheol’s fascination with the sea because he had always told you to stay away from water, that it was dangerous. You spent days of your time in that library, going through his journals and drawings, but didn’t really understand all the scribbles of notes he had jotted everywhere. You did see on the map though, the location of the sea cave that Seungcheol had mentioned about, wondering if you could get any answers there, but somehow you could never bring yourself to go. The answers of the questions you had so far had not been pleasant.  

Then one day as you sat on the wooden floor of the sunlit room studying what looked like drawings of some strange contraption, Hannie appeared in the sky.  

You immediately got up, running out of the room, down the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the top, to try and see Seungcheol reappear where you last saw him.

He didn’t.

Clouds made their way, covering the strong sun, submerging the town in a strange gloom. It all felt too apocalyptic. You rushed to find the King, learning that he was holding court, making your way to the hall, stopping right by the door and hiding yourself to overhear the discussion.

The Chois were ambushed.

More than half the forces were dead or injured, many were missing and as though your greatest fear came true, Seungcheol was missing too. He was also very badly injured and no one had seen or heard from him in two days, it was highly likely he succumbed to his injuries. You refused to believe it. He said he would come back to you, which meant he would, you believed him. But no one else seemed to share the same faith as you. They were going to give up, surrender the throne to prevent an attack on the town itself. That was when to everyone’s surprise you barged in.

You insisted nothing was wrong with Seungcheol and they had to find him and finish this war. They tried to reason with you, tell you the facts but you refused to hear it. You questioned how they could give up so soon and why they aren’t even trying to find him. They claimed they had to clear out from enemy territory, that it could be dangerous going back there. You turned to the King hoping you could at least reason with him but his tired old face looks like he’s already mourning his son.  You ran out of there, unable to come to terms with what was happening.

You would find him yourself if that’s what it took.

Rushing to the royal stables, you picked the horse that looked the strongest and forced its gates open, ignoring the crimson bleeding out of your hand as you cut it on the metal. Before the poor stable boy could stop you, you mounted it, riding out of the palace, into the unprepared town. People hurriedly ran out of the way, pulling their carts and children to the side, nothing but wind left behind as you raced through. You had your eyes on Hannie flying in the sky above you. You knew it could lead you to him, you just had to follow. You were almost successful in crossing the gates of the town, into the woods, when the royal guards caught up, surrounding you.

The head of security begged you to stop, that you were putting the kingdom in more jeopardy and you couldn’t let your desire to protect one man affect everyone. You wanted to argue, tell him that you didn’t care about anyone else and to insist that they let you go but when you turned and saw all the people stepping out of their houses to see what the commotion is, you let go the reins of the horse. Yes, finding Seungcheol was most important to you, but not at the cost of so many people’s lives. You knew better than that, you could never be that selfish.

As though Hannie sympathised, it landed on your softly shoulder, nuzzling your neck, cooing in your ear. You took him in your hands, the bloodied hand further darkening the red on its chest, a thought forming in your mind. You smudge the blood onto your fingertips, tracing a word onto its white, a word that you knew would bring Seungcheol back to you. As you set it free hoping it would find him, you watch the yes etched on it, praying to the skies that when it returns, Seungcheol follows it like always.  

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

You didn’t return to the castle after that.  

Turning your horse in the other direction, you rode to Seungcheol’s cottage by the woods, the only place you felt close to him. The big room and big bed of the castle might be physically comfortable but nothing made you feel at peace like this house, your safe haven. You were curled up in the bed for hours now as the sun slowly began to descend behind the mountains. You just had to give it time. You kept telling yourself it wasn’t a matter of if Seungcheol returned but when. He would come back for you, he would fight all odds and come back, you knew it.  

The sound of the horses neighing at a distance made you sit up. The royal guards must be here to escort you back to the castle now that it was getting darker outside. You didn’t want to go. You couldn’t stand being in that castle again.

Grabbing the oil lantern nearby, you soundlessly left through the back door, kkuma following you just as quietly. You thought you could just wait it out until the guards didn’t find you and returned to the castle but when kkuma began wandering away, you had no choice but to follow her. Not listening to your hushed whispers, with a mind of her own, she ventured into the forest and thoughtlessly, you followed. It’s only when the trees parted that you realised where you were – the sea cave.  

You didn’t know what you were expecting when Seungcheol mentioned about this place but it was beyond beautiful. The crystal blue waves were racing back and forth on the golden sand, the stone wall of the caves were gradients of brown rocks and green weeds. There were holes eroded onto the roof, the evening sun softly pouring in and in that soft light you noticed in the corner, folded are some blankets and books that clearly belonged to Seungcheol – he indeed must have spent a long time here. Kkuma settled herself down in the warmth of the bundled cloths, as you placed the lantern on a nearby rock and kicked your shoes off, feeling the warm sand under your feet.  

The water was inches away. The Ocean, the place that, if you had assumed right, was your home. Every bone in your body was craving to be in it, to submerge in it, to just feel alive in it once again. You walked ahead, taking one step after another, but the closer you moved to the waters, the further it seemed to be moving away from you. You quickened your steps, but the Sea kept retreating, pulling away. It surprised you to receive such hostility from waters that always looked so welcoming but not more than the voice that boomed through the cave, making you look around in panic. There was no one, you were all alone and kkuma too was fast asleep, like she didn’t hear anything. When you turned back to the sea, you bit back a scream, coming face to face with a woman, whose eyes were piercing into you, her lips curled into a smile as her voice echoed through the cave again. 

I see you’ve finally found your way home.  

Pain like no other seared through your head, making you fall to your knees in agony, your dress fanning out in the sand. As the woman bent down to your level, you scrambled back, swallowing the phantom lump in your throat, taking a better look at her. Holding a staff in one hand, she looked as old as time, her white hair and ragged clothes floating like she was still in the waters and that’s when you realised, she wasn’t actually here – it was apparition, like… magic. As though she read your mind, she confirmed it indeed was magic, that she controlled all the magic of the Sea - she was after all the Sea Witch.  

You recalled Seungcheol’s story about how the Sea had taken away magic from the Land, watching the legend come to life before you as the woman floated a few feet above the ground, looking at you expressionlessly. Who am I? Do I belong to the Sea? Why am I on Land?  You knew she was the only one who could possibly have the answers and she did - for a price.  

She pointed at the shell on your neck, claiming it belonged to the Sea – give it back and you could have all the answers you wanted. You held it in your grasp; it was the only thing of Seungcheol’s you had with you. You could either lose it and learn who you are or keep it and walk away, return to the castle. You could let your forgotten past remain forgotten and think only about the future with Seungcheol.  

But is there a future? She asked, reading your mind yet again. You knew what she meant. Seungcheol went to war and people died in war all the time. If he did not make it back, you had no place on Land, no home, no one to call your own. But if you were to find out who you truly are, you could then return to where you truly belonged. You tightened your grip on the shell, the pressure opening your wound, the blood spilling again. Giving up this necklace meant admitting to the possibility that Seungcheol will not return. How did that make you any different from all the others in the court who you lashed out at? 

The Sea Witch looked at you fighting your own battle in your head. She held out her hand saying if it was meant to be, then Seungcheol would return to you, regardless of whether you had this necklace or not. You know she’s playing you but give in, ripping the chain from your throat and throwing it into the waters, watching it sink into the dark bottom.  

The waves which seemed so afraid of you, raised themselves, almost as though bowing to you and the Sea Witch mirrored their action before straightening and looking up but this time, respectfully not meeting your eye.  

What do you seek, Princess of the Ocean.  

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You held the dagger in your hand tight, hands not shaking as you approached the dining room.  

The moment you returned to the castle, the maids had told you dinner was served and the king was waiting for you. You washed up and changed out of your sand filled clothes into one of your usual red dresses. Maybe there was a reason why you liked red so much – maybe deep down you knew you needed to hide the blood on your hands somewhere.  

You had to kill the King tonight.  

You stood in front of the large doors, the dagger that the Sea Witch gave in your hands, hiding efficiently in the large fabric of your dress. Once you stepped in, everything would change. You would become the killer of Seungcheol’s father, but you would also finally be fulfilling your duty to your people, the MerFolk.  

The Sea Witch told you the story from when it all began. The legends were all true. The merfolk were real, the life under the sea was real, everything you had experienced was real. 3 months ago, you were a part of the Sea, living a carefree life as the youngest princess of the royal family. Then one move by King Choi and everything changed.  

Over the centuries even though the entire ocean was ruled by just one family, without the power of magic, land had split into many Kingdoms and many rulers. Unlike the peace in the Sea, Land was always at war with itself, neighbouring kingdoms attacking and occupying towns – they never got rid of the battle they thought they won. One such battle happened three months ago at the Kingdom of the Chois where they were invaded by their neighbours, the Hans. At the brink of losing war, King Choi did the unthinkable – he set sail.

His deep interest in the Sea, that his son eventually inherited, had led him to spend years of his youth designing and building ships, the last of which had been burned during the Pact. The Sea allowed his soldiers to take an alternative route to attack their invaders and drive them out but the moment the ships had touched the ocean waters, years of peace dissolved into chaos.  

As the calm waters were shaken, towns under the Sea began falling apart – many merfolk died, many lost their homes, many lost their way back and among all the tragedies, the greatest one was losing your mother, the Queen.  

Her death left the entire Ocean without a leader, without a protector. Your sister, the oldest in the family, who had been trained for years to take over as queen was missing, like many others in the aftermath. The kingdom waited for days for her to show up until it was not practical to anymore – the ocean needed rebuilding, it needed leadership and guidance. As the only one left in the royal family, you had offered to take your mother’s place as queen but the Council of the Sea refused. You were young and inexperienced and unlike your sister, you were not trained to take over the Kingdom. They wanted to hand the Sea to the Hwangs, another family who had their eye on the throne for centuries now and were willing to take up the responsibility of the Ocean.  

You couldn’t let that happen, not only would it crush your mother’s dreams if the Kang lineage of rulers ended with her but also the Hwangs were notoriously famous for their aggressiveness. Under their hands, there was no saying what the future of the Ocean would look like. The citizens of the sea protested too – they were all on your side, they wanted you to rule and so the Council of the Sea and the Hwangs agreed – if you could prove yourself worthy.  

Kill the King of the Land.  

Blood for blood. Get revenge for the destruction of the Sea, that was the order. That was the price for you to get back your kingdom and 100 days was all you had to do it.

That’s when they called on the Sea Witch. Breathing on Land for 100 days would require very powerful and ancient magic, something only she was capable of. But it would not be so straightforward. The process would be excruciatingly painful, almost like becoming a new person, like being born again - quite literally because it would wipe out all your memories, everything you know of the Sea would be taken away. You would be sent to Land like a blank slate.  

That meant you had 100 days to go on Land, figure out who you were, learn of your mission and complete it. Should you fail, not only would you lose your kingdom, but the waters had no forgiveness for those who disobeyed magic so ancient – you would join them again, but as sea foam.  

Today was day 92. You only had 8 days left.  

You pushed open the doors of the dining hall, eyes falling on the King tiredly slouched in his chair waiting for you. He must’ve fallen asleep because he didn’t move when you approached. You looked at face responsible for the death of your mother, the disappearance of your sister, the destruction of your kingdom and you felt numb. You still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, but you also couldn’t walk away. Yes, if only he didn’t bring out his ships you wouldn’t have lost so much, you wouldn’t be here but you know like any other good king, he did it to save his people. And now you had to do whatever it took to save yours.  

And then fate smirked.

Just as you raised the knife and were about to plunge it in his chest, you heard the fluttering sound of wings and on the balcony landed Hannie, looking more red than white. The knife slipped from your hands, landing on the floor with a thud as the king stirred awake. His guards burst into the room as the royal trumpets echoed through the night. You rushed to Hannie in the balcony, the one that overlooked the town, and saw the oil lanterns of the houses, slowly increase in number, getting brighter and brighter in the darkness. The king and his men departed immediately and so you followed them, holding Hannie in one hand and your dress in the other, running down the palace corridors and out the gate to see a crowd gathered.  

As it parted, it revealed Seungcheol's horse and holding onto its reins walking it was Seungcheol, bruised and battered, blood splattered all over him, multiple wounds gashed open, barely but still alive. Take a staggering step at a time, he approached his father bowing and whispered, We won before collapsing into the gravel.  

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Seungcheol was immediately taken away by the royal physicians as the king announced to the people that the war was over and the town erupted into cheers. You tried to follow the doctors to be with him but they closed the door on your face, asking you to stay out. So, you stayed right outside, the whole night, prancing about, biting your nails, as you waited for the news.  

Instead, you were met with screams. You don’t know what they were doing to Seungcheol in there but he was evidentially in unbearable pain – you could hear in the way the screams ripped out of his throat, like he was in pure agony. It went on for hours and it was so terrifying to hear, you felt your heart shatter every time it rang through the halls. 

Finally at the crack of dawn he seemed to calm down and the doors finally opened. He was deeply wounded and his body was beyond exhausted, he just needed some sleep, the physicians assured you and the king, who unknown to you had also arrived. You thanked them and hurried in to see Seungcheol peacefully lying on the bed, bandages wrapped all over his body.

You sat beside him as the king gently stroked his son’s hair both proudly and sadly, muttering that he would pray for him to heal soon. As you held Seungcheol’s hand in yours, the king requested you to stay by the former’s side till he woke up. You assured him you would, to which he nodded and to both your shock and horror, pulled out the dagger which you had dropped in the dining room the day before. You held your breath as he placed it on the table beside the bed, not even looking at you. I believe this is yours.  

He knew.  

He figured out that you had attempted to take his life, but the tired old man didn’t say anything as he left. Instead, the royal guards placed at the door told you what you needed to know.

You failed your mission. Not only had you let down your people, you were discovered and now you were to be tried for treason. You only had till Seungcheol woke up. Lips quivering, you held onto his hand tighter. 

You didn’t know if fate was showing you mercy or prolonging your agony but it took almost 2 whole days for Seungcheol to finally wake up.   

You hadn’t left his room since you had entered it. Not only were you not allowed to, but you didn’t want to leave Seungcheol’s side. You either sat beside him, or in the balcony overlooking the ocean for hours together with kkuma curled up next to you and hannie flying around in the sky. The two of them had been awfully calm, as though they too knew what was coming.

Finally, on the 94th night, just as you had closed the doors of his bedroom and prepared your bed to sleep, Seungcheol stirred awake. You immediately rushed to his side as his eyes fluttered open, and the moment they landed on you, he broke into the most peaceful smile. You sighed in relief, softly holding his cheek in your hand, asking him how he was feeling.  

You said yes.  

Hannie flew into the room like a reminder of your message to him but his words only pained you. Things had changed so much since then. Not only could you not marry him but you had now become worthy of his hatred. You don’t think you can bear to see anything but love for you in his eyes.

Leaning down you kissed him, whispering that you loved him and that you wish no matter what, he always remembered that. He didn’t seem to understand your words, still reeling in the happiness of your acceptance of his proposal as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the embrace you were craving for.  

As the two of you laid for hours together, wrapped in each other, he told you how they had been ambushed before they even reached the battlefield - someone had betrayed them. His horse had saved him, taking him away into the woods, far from his attackers but he was already very badly injured. It was Hannie who arrived with your yes that truly saved him. He knew he had to come back for you so he pushed through. He regrouped what was left of the army and infiltrated the enemy camp that was prematurely celebrating their victory and gained the upper hand.  

You snuggled closer in his warmth, hoping he wouldn’t see the guilt on your face when he spoke of you like you were his saviour. Everything would change tomorrow. Tonight was your last night with him, your last chance to create a memory for him to remember you by. As he went on about how tomorrow morning he would talk to the king about the wedding, you kissed him, cutting him off. Tonight you only wanted to love and love you did.  

Of all the nights you spent with Seungcheol, nothing felt like this. There was a strange desperation carved in the way you undressed each other, hands roaming, names whispered against skin. You took the lead this time, clambering on top of him and he stared at you like you were his whole world and more. Tucking your hair behind your ear, he told you how lucky he was to have you and you pushed the recurring feeling of guilt down and claimed him for yourself one last time.

A clash of hands, tongues and moans, he matched your need, leaving marks of love on your shoulder and chest. Burying your face in his neck, you held back the tears of pain and pleasure and a goodbye all dissolved in one as you came apart above him. Like always his arms held you in his embrace as though stopping you from losing yourself but it was too late. Everything had fallen apart already.  

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When you woke up, the bed was empty.  

Seungcheol was not in the room, neither were the maids scurrying in as usual, cleaning up and neither were the guards who were placed outside the doors all these days. You walked down the corridors which were overtaken by a strange emptiness, wondering where everyone was. It was late in the afternoon judging by the sun but the palace was looking bleaker than usual.  

That was when your eyes fell on the flag of the kingdom hoisted down, flying low.  

Mourning.  

You rushed back towards the bedroom wing of the palace, heart beating erratically against your still lungs, till you found the royal physicians walking out of a chamber, looking dejected. The kings chamber.  

As you got closer, you noticed the officials of the royal court had all gathered around, dressed in black, heads hanging, faces in sorrow. They parted, letting you walk in to see Seungcheol standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at the king who laid peacefully in a slumber he would never wake up from.

The moment you put your hand on his shoulder Seungcheol turned. He wasn’t crying but there was so much pain in his face, it made you want to take him in your arms and hide him there forever. But you didn’t. You rubbed his arms softly whispering that you will wait for him outside, knowing he needed time with his father, the last of his family.  

But the moment you stepped out, the royal guards surrounded you, their spears pointing at you from a distance and you knew the time had come. By the order of the late king, after Prince Choi was awake, you were to be imprisoned for treason. For life.  

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

You might have been forced into a four stone walled dark cell for 5 days now but there was no greater prison that your own mind. As the moonlight creeped through the metal bars of the window on top, you sat crouched in the little dark space, leaning against the cold rocks. It was always so silent in here, you only ever heard the crashing of the waves against the walls, each ebb and flow reminding you of where you truly belonged.  

With the king now dead, your mission was complete, you could go back home. You could go back to your people, you could take back your kingdom but somehow you lacked the strength or the will to fight your way out of here. It would mean facing Seungcheol, who in the last many days had not come even once to see you. With each passing minute in his absence a part of you was glad to not see the disgust he would hold for you but another was broken at the thought of this being the end of the love you shared. As you fought your inner battle as a lover and a princess, time, the one thing that you did not have, kept slipping away.  

And then for the first time in 5 days, a shadow other than your own was cast in the moonlight. Seungcheol’s.  

You stood up, taken aback by his presence after so long but more by the sound of the gates opening and the guards asking you to step out, leading you out of the prison cell. You were free.  

It was only then in the light of the fire lit corridors that you saw him, dressed in finery like never before and on his head rested the whole responsibility of the kingdom - the crown. 

It was no longer Prince Seungcheol, he was now King Choi Seungcheol.  

Seeing him like that, your heart swelled with pride. When you found out Seungcheol was the prince you weren’t really as surprised as you should have been because it was only then that things made perfect sense. You had seen the king in him all along. One of the reasons that you loved him so much was because of what a good man he was, always thoughtful of others, always helping those in need, always looking out. No one was more worthy of being king than him.   

But before you can say anything to him, the maids brought you away to his room, complaining that you needed a change of clothes and a good bath. As they helped you strip out and scrubbed your neglected skin, they talked about how Seungcheol was furious when he learnt of your imprisonment. He insisted that you be released at once but he could not do anything as the royal guards would only take orders from the king. Stubborn to get you released no matter what, he sped up the coronation, which was due two weeks later and was crowned king just hours ago. His first order as ruler was that you be immediately released.  

You asked to be left alone for a bit, soaking yourself in the water after days now. Why did Seungcheol let you go? Did he not believe you tried to kill his father? Or did he love you so much that he was willing to forgive you for the attempt?

You couldn’t even ask him. He would not be free of the coronation festivities which apparently went on till sunrise and you didn’t have long before you had to return to the ocean – it was already day 99.  

Maybe it was better this way. You had your duties like he had his. Maybe if you left without giving him an explanation and without getting one, it would be easier for the love between the two of you to die. It had to die. The two of you belonged to two different worlds. There was no a happily ever after written for this story.   

You slid against the bath, submerging yourself into the waters, trying to breathe in peace again.  

But the nightmare had not ended. The voices were not gone.  

Kill the King.  

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When you walked out of the bathroom, Seungcheol was there.  

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his usual simple clothes again. In fact, he was wearing the same white shirt as the first time you ever saw him. The irony was not lost on you. It was like fate was not tired of the joke after joke after joke it was playing. 

You walked in, asking him what he was doing away from the celebrations when you noticed what was in his hands. The dagger. Your dagger.  

It's been a while since I told you a story.  

He looked up, meeting your eye in the mirror, his finger dangerously dragging against the blade.  

Do you remember the legend of the sea?  

Why was the talking about this to you right now?  

There's more, he claimed, standing up, turning to you. In that blue sea of dangerous creatures and vicious beings also lived the most beautiful woman in the world.  

You can hear your heart thumping in your ear.  

One day, the woman of the waters found herself on land. She was sent with a mission.

You took a step back. How could he possibly know all this?

You may have forgotten everything Y/n. But I didn't. He walked up to you. You may remember only 3 months of our love, but I remember 10 years of it.

You didn't understand. You didn't understand at all.

The young woman had been interested in the Land and humans ever since she was a little girl. Even though the merfolk were clearly warned to stay away from humans and shallow waters were dangerous to swim in, she would always escape the barricades quietly, to see whatever little of Land she would.

Finally, when she was 14 years old, she discovered a little secret - a sea cave. It was the only place where the waters next to land were deep enough, where she could get close to the land without being in much danger. She would come there often just to look at the sand and the rocks but she never saw any humans.

Until one day, a young, 14 year old Prince, distraught at the loss of his mother had ventured into the forest all alone and found the cave.  

You remember Seungcheol telling you he moved to the cottage after the death of his mother when he was 14.

The price was also just as interested in the Sea as she was in land but unlike her, he did the stupid thing of entering the waters - he immediately started drowning.

That was the day she saved him the first time. Holding her breath to the point she couldn't anymore, she pulled him onto the sand before disappearing into the ocean. The last thing he remembered was seeing her most beautiful face.

After that the prince came everyday. Initially the young girl never showed herself. He knew she was there though, deeper in the waters, lurking silently. He would come every morning and just sit in the sand doing his assignments, glancing at the sea every once in a while and when the sun would start to set, he would return. Slowly, much to his anticipation and delight, she started coming up closer and closer to the surface until one day when he was 16, Seungcheol for the first time, put his hand in the water and touched hers.

It was magical, like nothing he ever felt before.

Then he started to get reckless again, trying to enter the waters, almost drowning too, but this time she held his hand and taught him to swim. Of the many hours he spent in the cave, a few minutes were always in the water, swimming by her side, and the rest were just watching her glide through the waves.

When he was 18, he created something extraordinary. He had always been a bit of a science man but after years of trial and error, he had finally made a device - a little mask of sorts that could help him breathe underwater, for about an hour or so. He didn't have to hold his breath anymore - he was able to spend longer under the sea, longer with her.

When he went to show it to her, she had discovered a little secret of her own - weeds. Not any kind but a very particular one that only grew in the Sea witches house. She apparently used to work for one, to learn magic, like all her other siblings did. There she had come across these very special plants that allowed merfolk to breathe on land.

That was the first time she stepped on land. The moment she did, she succumbed to her knees, throwing up water in the sand. Even the weed had its downsides, the most important one being that its affect only seemed to last an hour or so. But the hour she had with him on land and he had with her in the waters were more than enough - Their worlds were no longer barriers.

That went on for years, these secret meetings. Initially it was just sharing laughs, then dreams, then the thought of a whole life together. He taught her how to read and write their language, she drew him maps of different lands, far away in the sea. He taught her about science and she taught him about magic. His stories about the land animals fascinated her and her stories about the sea creatures terrified him.

When he was 20, he kissed her for the first time. When they were 22, they made love and when they were 24, around a 100 days ago, she told him she had to come to land for a mission.

It felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs. How was any of this possible?

She didn't say what her mission was, just that she had something to do and she needed him to help her. She would apparently arrive on land with all her memories gone and she needed him to guide her to find her way back. He didn't understand but she didn't have the time to tell him more. She just handed him a shell necklace and told him to give it to her when the time was right, it would help her figure things out.

So did you figure it out Y/n? He took you hand, placing the knife laced with his blood in it. Was your mission to kill my father?

You shook your head slowly, still processing all the information.

"It was to kill you."

The moment you heard your voice again in that bath, you felt like your life just left you. You thought the mission was completed - the king was dead. Then why were you still hearing it.... except you didn't complete the mission. You didn't kill the king, you didn't use the dagger.

Now the king was right in front of you. The man you just  discovered you had been in love with your whole life. The man who made you fall in love with him all over again. The man who you had to kill to stay alive.

But he didn't look even a little fazed.

The sky behind you was starting to get brighter. The sun was rising. The 100th day was nearly here.

"Its okay." He whispered, moving closer to you without an ounce of fear. "Do it."

How could he love you so much, enough to die for you?

You could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. He gently wiped it away, shaking his head. You kissed the inside of his hand on your cheek, and then pulled him close, feeling his mouth against yours for what you knew was the last time.

As you whispered an apology, he assured you it was okay. That you were the most beautiful thing that ever happened to him. And there was no better way for him to go than you being the last thing he saw.

You took a step back.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another step.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another, till you reached the window overlooking the ocean, you back against it.

You smiled at him.

He was not the only one who loved you enough to die.

The sun had risen quite high by now. You were simply a silhouette against the light, an outline and soon a memory. Before Seungcheol could even realise what you were doing, you leaned back. He ran towards you, as you let yourself drop, only just missing his outstretched hand trying to pointlessly save you, taken away by the winds, taken away to the sea.

As the sun fully rose in the sky, the dagger in you hands landed in the ocean with a splash, sinking to the bottom slowly, disappearing from existence.

And around it was sea foam, finally reclaimed by the waters where it belonged, gently floating away in peace.

[xjulixred45x]

Can I please request the female douma in hasbin hotel I just saw the new trailer and thought about my favourite demon lazy demon .

Ohhhh, Hazbin Hotel! That pretty cool! Deal ;)

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Hazbin Hotel x Douma Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: Douma itself is a Warnings (Cults, cannibalism), Hell, Alastor, mentions of alcohol, long work.

You died during the Taisho era, in Japan. having lived a fairly long and…full life, so to speak.

You were born with a unique appearance! with Rainbow irises that made you extremely popular in the area where you lived.

So much so that the people in your family believed that you had a special gift for speaking with the gods, so they formed a cult around you.

without knowing that in this way they would be awakening the darker side of your being.

As you grew up, being worshiped by the cult your parents had made, you couldn't really learn to differentiate emotions, which was frustrating. You wanted to feel SOMETHING, anything. have the experience.

and you tried everything.

do good things, do bad things, help the cult people with words you didn't really mean, scam, hurt, hurt animals, hurt yourself, hurt others in multiple ways, etc.

Even if they generated a certain feeling of emotion in you, you wouldn't say that they filled you up.

until you decided to try killing certain disciples and eating them to get rid of them.

and it was a success!You finally started to feel the emotions that others talked so much about!

Although of course, not all good things come for free, when you died there was no doubt that you would fall to hell, and so it was.

Honestly, You were very surprised to have fallen into hell, not because you didn't deserve it, but because you were an atheist all your life, believing that everything you preached was a lie.

And it turns out that it was true?? How curious.

but it didn't mean you wouldn't take advantage of your new playground.

With your natural charm, your unique and striking appearance (almost the same as you were when you were human) you were able to convince several low-ranking demons to trust you with their souls, rising in rank exponentially.

To make it easier for you, with your demon abilities you created a place similar to what your cult was like, there you could more easily control the people who gave you their souls.

In record time you became an Overlord. one quite well known but very mysterious. One that had a striking appearance and powers, but was rarely seen.

You could do anything you wanted in hell! which made the scope of your misdeeds increase exponentially, you couldn't be happier!

If we're talking about interacting with Hazbin Hotel's rl cast, of course you did! You were somewhat curious to know how Lucifer's daughter's attempt at humanitarian aid would fail. Also, bother Alastor? You are in!

Technically you already knew Alastor, you two died at similar times (you died before) and you saw how he rose very strongly among the Overlords, you liked him.

Unfortunately Alastor did not enjoy your company in the least, precisely because it made it very difficult for him to read you, either because of your lack of GENUINE emotion or because, like him, you used the trick of always having a smiling and pleasant facade.

Still, of course, he would rather be killed again than admit that.

But it was really a shame, he found some aspects of you pleasant.

For example, your taste in Canibal cuisine, Alasror recognized that you had good taste in that aspect.

Apart from that, you came from a VERY rich culture and spoke fluently in both English and Japanese, which was a great sight. Alastor normally wouldn't think that someone (at first glance) so airheaded would be able to speak a language like that so fluently.

but he is definitely something like your Akaza.

I mean, every time you push him out enough, Alastor will use Elrich magic on you and destroy you in the most grotesque ways possible.

That's until he realizes that you like it when he does that! That you make him hurt you on purpose because you're a masochistic son of a bitch!

The worst thing is that he doesn't realize this until Husk tells him...having already known you for years.

Speaking of, Husk doesn't trust you, not in the slightest.

he thinks you're a freak, a second Alastor but even worse, at least Alastor is honest about how horrible he is unlike you.

He serves you drinks when you ask, but if he can, he throws the glass directly in your eye or head, simply because he can. for your delight.

He is quicker to realize your intentions than the average person, and if he realizes that you want to turn one of the hotel members into your "dinner" he is drawing the cards SO FAST---

lots of offensive nicknames, to counteract the "affectionate" nicknames you give to people you know.

Don't touch it or ask it by surprise. Have you seen how cats do when they step on their tail? that's Husk when you surprise him.

Charlie...she's insecure about you.

and she feels BAD about it! She is supposed to be impartial and that everyone deserves a chance to change their ways! but you...well, it's you.

Charlie is not so naive, when more than one member of the Staff warns her that you are bad news, she is considerate of them and tries to make you leave, they have already had incidents with Overlords before, she wants to believe that you are different.

but it proves quite quickly that not when you show your more... somber side.

She tries to be cautious, failing miserably because she wants to know everything about you. You are someone very interesting!

Charlie definitely didn't have much of an idea who you were when she met you, your name did ring any bells, but she didn't think it was that important ---

until you casually blurted out the information that you had a fucking cult.

and that you eat demons.

FROM THE SAME FUCKING CULT YOU HAVE.

There Charlie decides to put into practice everything given in "setting boundaries" and tells you that although she likes how... you liven up the atmosphere of the hotel (and the air conditioning in some way) she DEFINITELY does not want to associate with you having Alastor.

if she KNOWS that you are trying to do something against the hotel or any of the staff members (especially Vaggie)...ohohoho buddy, prepare yourself for an ANGRY Charlie ready to show you WHO'S THE BOSS HERE.

(She definitely tries to get several members of your cult to go to the hotel with her to protect them from you).

You get on Vaggie's nerves. A Lot.

not only because you cool everything you touch, but because you are very similar to Alastor.

She knows you're hiding something, that you want something from them but she can't get it out of you easily, so she's content to just watch you from a distance and make sure you don't mess with anyone.

VERY PROTECTIVE WITH EVERYONE WHEN YOU ARE THERE, it increases the hotel's defenses by 130% and keeps you away from where others are.

You definitely like to annoy her by calling her names that are too friendly for your type of relationship or even using her as an armrest. In these types of cases you usually receive a few good punches in the ribs or a headbutt.

If you try to get too close, she applies the pilot's weapon to you, that is, she takes out her angelic spear and threatens you with a lot of violence. cursing you in Spanish in the process.

She's not as intimidated by you as she is by Alastor, but she definitely doesn't think you're safer for any reason.

less after finding out what you do with the people in your cult.

good luck keeping Vaggie from killing you!

Angel Dust is scared of you, like, really scared.

It's not because you're similar to Alastor, or because you're a Cannibal, or because you're a powerful Overlord. not at all.

It's because you are very similar to Valentino.

You pretend to be a good person, that you give a shit about what happens to the people at the hotel, but really no, it's all fake. REALLY fake.

you feel nothing.

and that terrifies him. He doesn't know how he acts around you. so Angel avoids you as much as he can, going near the fireplace since you don't like the heat, or near Husk.

he keeps making jokes at your expense, but it's really his way of handling the situation.

apart from the fact that Angel genuinely thinks you're pathetic, because you couldn't find any other way to enjoy your life and another life other than hurting people.

that's pathetic.

Yes, she won't let you be near the most vulnerable residents, like Niffty (when she's drunk) and she definitely won't let you be near Fatt Nuggets.

Try him and he will show you what he lived by while he was alive.

Niffty isn't scared of you in the slighleast.

In fact she is attracted to you on many levels, but Alastor will NEVER LET you be even a kilometer close to her in his presence.

In fact, there is a high possibility that you and her will secretly become friends, but Niffty better take care of herself around you.

She makes you use your ice powers so she can make things in the snow, snow angels, dolls, kill bugs with snow picks, etc.

she likes you and you like her :) surprisingly.

Sir Pentious is quite similar to Angel with you.

Sir Pentious is very aware of your reputation as a fearsome Overlord and definitely does not want to join the list of victims with his Eggboys, so he stays as far away from you as possible.

He has tried to make inventions resistant to your frozen currents, since it costs Charlie quite a few resources (because you don't pay a shit for what you break, you cheapskate) and certain artifacts that counteract your ice powers.

He brings several of his smoke machines to the hotel when he knows you're coming to visit (and if you come as a surprise, most likely everyone will hide in Pentious's warship because it's very hot in there.

Yes, he doesn't let his Ehgboys be near you in the slightest, he tells them horror stories with you like the big egg-eating monster.

and if you try something with his Minions PREPARE FOR THE DEATH RAY--

In general, you are a pain in the ass for everyone, everyone, always :)

^when they find out You come to visit

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️

[whalesforhands]

would love to see something ab reader having a nightmare about shoko, geto, and gojo dying maybay? and they wake up in a panic? shuffling off to the dorm kitchen to try and maybe calm herself down only to see geto there and he helps calm them down after they confide in him. could be with your series where gojo and geto are together because those boys are def in love 🥹☺️. BUT YEAH JUST,,, comfort hehe.

really enjoying your writing btw, pls keep up the good work, bub :)

very very very cute idea anon. ily ♥️

yes, i swear they are 100% in love with each other canonically!!!! i love them together sm.

if only my dreams were as sweet as you (geto x reader x gojo)

warnings: angst to comfort, anxiety attacks, depressive episode, gore descriptions

You shook upon the ground you sat on, barely breathing, barely able to move.

Your leg was ripped off, the remainder of what was left of it wrapped tight with Suguru’s coat, his attempt to comfort you, to stop the bleeding. To assure you everything is okay.

You think you’ve lost your sense of touch. Your sense of self. You can’t feel any semblance of their cursed energies anymore.

Geto Suguru laid on the ground, his eyes lifeless, an arm torn off from his body, laying uselessly within the pits of some sick curse’s stomach. A large hole stretched throughout his midriff. He had no chance of survival.

Shoko Ieiri was near your side, body cold, trapped within rubble that suffocated her already dead self, her face unrecognisable, gored from the ferocious attacks of a special grade that she stood no chance against from the start.

Finally, Gojo Satoru, laid on your lap as you screamed and cried for him to wake up. You can’t lose him. His eyes were wide open, crystalline blue dull and gone, his cursed energy barely even there. Your tears fell onto his face, staining his cheeks and seeping into the cuts he sustained.

You shake and shake him with your broken arms, your arms feeling useless as the nerves slowly started to die.

Please. Please. Please!

Don’t leave you alone in this universe. Don’t leave. Don’t leave! You can’t lose the only people you love. You can’t. Your heart shattered when Ieiri fell, crushed to dust when Suguru lost, and now nothing would remain as Satoru was defeated.

You feel the looming shadow of the special grade curse.

You hope it takes you to where your beloved three were.

Jolting awake with a start, sweat dripping off your brow even as the AC ran. Feeling your heart stutter and pound, your senses going into overdrive as you felt the area for the three.

Suguru, Shoko and Satoru. You felt their energy all around you. A strikingly bright, overwhelming energy. An ominous, immense and darker energy. A serenely heart-chilling one.

Alive. They were alive. Your heart never felt such relief.

Thank goodness. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

Your hand scurried to what you thought was your missing leg, squeezing and pinching the flesh that was definitely there. Yep, definitely a dream. A horrible one.

A nightmare.

You hold your face in your hands as you felt tears begin to well up. You can’t believe your mind even conjured that. Bile was rising up your throat as you continued to cry.

You can’t live in a world without them. The thought of losing all three of them was devastating.

A life without them? You’d rather die. You felt the urge to throw up just thinking about this.

Water. You need water. Does Suguru keep his chamomile and valerian tea in the pantry too? You think you need some.

Your shaky legs barely hold you up as you venture out of your room, dressed in your sleep shorts, oversized shirt and fluffy lamb slippers. Your hair was a mess, your face void of most of its colour.

You must look like you’ve woken from the dead. (Your attempt at a joke to lighten yourself up. You need to spend more time around Satoru for his silliness. You suck.)

As you approached the kitchen, you were surprised to see a glowing lamp still on. Is someone in there, or did Satoru forget to turn it off?

You slowly peek in from the ajar door, only to find Geto Suguru, in all his glory, already staring at you. Long hair left down from his usual bun, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with Satoru’s face printed on it.

In his hand, a cup of steaming tea.

“I thought that was you. How are you still awake?”

——

Your head was rested on his shoulder, his arm comfortingly wrapped around your shoulders, snuggled comfortably onto the sofa with one empty cup, the other half-way drunk on the coffee table before you.

“And? What happened then?” He softly inquired, voice soothing and gentle as he tenderly prodded your thoughts.

“You all… Were dead…” You began, a sniffle already squeezed out of you. The thought making you want to cry all over again.

“I- I could never handle… Losing any of you…” Your grip tightened itself around his shirt, hand over where his beating heart was, as you buried yourself into his shoulder, trying to press yourself closer to him.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “I’m here. We’re all here.” His other hand came up to wipe at your tears.

“That will never happen.” He continued to say, hearing your breaths starting to slow and even out.

He was about to continue, until the door to the room was creaked open.

“Suguruuuuuuu, why’d you leavveee meeeee?” A whining Satoru has just awoken from Suguru’s bed. His eyes were still closed, had it made it all the way here just by feeling for his boyfriend’s cursed energy?

Then he must’ve sensed yours too.

Dressed in a shirt printed with Suguru’s sleeping face, and a similar pair of sweatpants, he creaked open his eyes. Picking up Suguru’s half-empty cup and downing the remainder of it.

You felt Satoru plop onto the couch right beside you, snuggling his face into your chest before he stretched over the length of both your and Suguru’s legs, placing his head on Suguru’s lap as he splayed his legs out on your own lap.

(The menace even reached out for your hand, holding it in his own as his eyes closed back, smiling as he threaded his fingers through yours.)

A cuddle pile.

He spoke, feeling Suguru stroke his hair.

“Ya just woke up from a bad dream?” It was an inquiry, tender and laced with a hint of worry.

You remain silent. He understands.

“Don’t,” He yawns, feeling comforted by Suguru’s hand. “Don’t worry…”

“We’re the strongest, after all…” He fell back asleep. How strong of him.

Suguru nods, a smile on his face.

“He’s right, you know?” A kiss to your forehead.

“We are the strongest.”

You think the tea was starting to kick in. Why was there such a warm, soothing feeling within you? You felt the lids of your eyes begin to grow heavy, Suguru opening his free arm more allow your head to loll onto his chest, holding you close as your eyes begin to shut.

You like being here.

masterlist

Notes:

Suguru has trouble sleeping due to the bad aftertaste from swallowing curses. It’s disgusting, the taste haunts his mouth and he gags at the reminder of it.

It was Satoru’s idea to get his and Suguru’s faces printed on shirts. The photo he used for himself was one of him looking charming, whilst Suguru’s photo was one of him drooling onto Satoru’s pillow. The shirts are very high quality, and very expensive.

There is an extra shirt in your size with both of their photos printed on it hidden in Suguru’s closet.

Satoru finds it hard to sleep without a certain someone in bed. If Suguru is awake, they’ll both just sleep on the couch in the shared living room area.

Shoko was the one to find all three of you cuddled into each other asleep on the sofa. She got a blanket she draped over you as she drank her coffee, taking a photo of all three of you that she sent to both Suguru and Satoru.

See? She can be nice. But they both owe her a favour now.

[raainy-daze]

don't mind me requesting stuff

so what if there was a y/n character who was super surprised when anyone initiated physical contact because who would want to touch anyone like them? (their words)

and so donnie doesn't like physical contact, but the first hug after nearly dying just sends reader into a fucking chopping board. they are stiff as a brick and have their hands awkwardly at their side cause, again, why would anyone (especially someone as amazing as donnie) want to make any contact with them?

(gn!reader please)

You Survived! Now Have Emotions

rottmnt!donnie x gn!reader

summary: wow. explosions sure do just mess up your day, don’t they? oh well, you survived. you kind of have to explain your issues with touch to donnie now, though.

word count: 1609

warnings for maybe slightly ooc?? it’s 12:45 at night i don’t know how good it is okay

a/n: thanks for requesting! sorry this took so ridiculously long. good luck to everyone it applies to on thanksgiving family reunion hell!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

How were you not dead right now?

Hell, you weren’t even just not dead, you only had minor injuries. That was a lot better than you had hoped in the moment. You had plenty of scratches and bruises, but nothing was broken, you were sure of that much. You tested moving cautiously, moving one limb at a time before standing up. The worst damage was taken by your right leg. Sprained, maybe. Not bad enough to not be able towalk, though, thank god. You limped a bit, but hey, that still counted as walking.

There was one catch, though. When the battle was over, and you had fully assessed your injuries, you were alone. Completely, horribly alone. So, you set out, stumbling a bit on your bad leg, in search of your friends.

You called out each of their names, one at a time.

“April!” You’d been closest to her in the fight, towards the back. Why hadn’t she been knocked the same direction you had?

“Mikey!” He’d been the farthest from the explosion, you were pretty sure. If you were fine, surely he’d be uninjured.

“Leo?” Had you even seen him? Last you remembered, he had ported off somewhere, probably with some kind of idea that came too late.

“Raph?” If anyone would be hurt, it would be him, he was closest to the blast. God, you hoped he was fine. He’s tough, he wouldn’t be…? Right?

“Donnie…?” You didn’t even want to think about him, as your thoughts grew steadily darker. You were fine. You were fine. Why wouldn’t everyone else be?

You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

How far could that damn explosion have thrown you? Pretty far, apparently. You weren’t even entirely sure what had caused it. You must’ve been near something flammable, and not noticed in the heat of the fight.

For a moment, you considered that you might be going in the wrong direction, but that couldn’t be right. You could see clear signs of destruction, getting steadily more obvious as you made your way along.

“Guys…?” The longer you spent in your head, the more pessimistic your thoughts got. Your final call was pathetically weak. Your ankle hurt more the farther you walked. You had finally reached the scene of the carnage again. Surely an explosion like that would make any villain flee.

At first, your call wasn’t answered. You shut your eyes, exhausted. You might as well collapse, wait for the others to find you. Or the police, if they showed up soon.

“(Y/N)!”

So much for collapsing.

You turned towards the voice, searching desperately for its source. You found it, all right, right in the middle of this stupid battle site. You felt your energy immediately restore itself. “Donnie!”

He was standing on a pile of debris, right where the explosion had gone off. He didn’t seem to have taken any more damage than you had. You watched as Donnie scrambled down from his perch atop the rubble (which, you would later learn, had been an attempt at a lookout) and began running to greet you.

You smiled a rather tired, albeit relieved, smile, and raised a hand in greeting. You unfortunately were not expecting for Donnie to practically slam into you, pulling you into quite possibly the tightest hug you’d ever been in.

Your brain reacted not unlike a computer crashing. You went entirely stiff, not knowing how else you were meant to react. Time almost slowed down as several facts went through your head all at once.

Fact one: people touching you was not a normal occurrence. Why would it be? You weren’t the kind of person people would usually want to hug, or anything like that.

Fact two: Donnie was just about the least touchy-feely person you knew. You only ever saw him hug people in… well, in situations like this, you guessed.

Fact three: even if Donnie wasn’t so against touch most of the time, you wouldn’t expect something like this anyways. He was so great in almost every way, and you didn’t think you were anywhere near his level.

So, you shut down, with no understanding of what to do. Thankfully soon, Donnie let go of you, though you noticed his hands stayed hovering by your shoulders. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

And you found yourself back in reality, even as your thoughts stayed confusing each other. You felt something wet roll down your face. Oh, god, you were crying. You were crying.

Donnie was never exactly the go-to guy for feelings, so needless to say, neither of you were having a great time figuring out what was going on. “Oh, crap crap crap, please don’t cry-“

That’s the moment someone else chose to make an appearance. More specifically, April and Mikey. They were jogging up from the street opposite of where you’d come from. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified. On the one hand, they were alive! On the other hand, that was two more people to see you crying. Who likes people watching them crying?

So, you turned your face away, wiping away tears with your hands and trying to hold your sobs in, as they ran your way. They were both yelling, though you were having some trouble filtering it through your head. You hoped it wasn’t something important.

The next hour or so was a blur. Raph was okay. Well, he was alive and not in a coma, at least. He was definitely still worse for wear, though, which wasn’t all that surprise considering you found him heavily dazed in the same pile of rubble Donnie had climbed. At some point, Leo had ported back, yelling something about a solution to the problem which had already vanished. At least he was useful for getting everyone back to the lair without having to climb through the sewers.

That was where you sat now, on the edge of the bigger group. Everyone was treating each other’s injuries, and Mikey was explaining what had happened to Splinter alongside occasional amendments by the others. You had determined that your ankle was, in fact, sprained, and treated it best you could. You weren’t sure how you’d explain what happened to your parents, but you were sure you’d figure it out.

Every so often, you’d catch Donnie glancing at you, which you had only noticed due to you doing the same thing.

As everyone was caught up in stories and follow-up plans, Donnie got up from the first aid kit to sit next to you. The air around you just felt a little uncomfortable, and neither of you spoke for several moments.

“Is everything alright?” Donnie was the one to break the silence. He spoke in a low voice, so as not to draw attention from the others.

“Just peachy. I love getting into near death experiences.” Though phrased as a joke, your voice was flat. He tried setting a hand on your shoulder, only for you to flinch away. “Why are you doing that? And why did you hug me?”

“Well, I was worried about you.” He looked somewhat confused. “And I was happy that you were okay. And I thought that people liked to be touched, usually, so… (Y/N), did I do something wrong?”

“Well, yeah… no? I don’t know. I’m just… well, you’re so cool. And all that. I guess I just… don’t think I deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” If you thought Donnie was confused before, you hadn’t seen anything yet. He looked almost offended. “Deserve it? I’m sorry, who hurt you? Of course you deserve it.”

He continued in what was almost a whisper, as his brothers made some dramatic explosion noise (you think? None of them are great at explosion noises.)

“Look, (Y/N), I know that I don’t usually… you know, touch people, but if anyone deserves it, it’s you. You’re awesome, okay?”

You bit your tongue and turned away from him. You were not going to cry again, especially not now in a place where everyone would most definitely notice.

“Donnie!” Leo cut in. “Did I or did I not specifically say, ‘oh hey, I bet that thing’s going to blow up’?”

Your conversation was marked as ended (or at the very least, put off) as his brothers dragged him into bickering over the details of the day’s events. April rolled her eyes and came to sit with you two, so you resolved to pull yourself together for the time being. The rest of your time in the lair was spent talking things over with April, laying down your cover story to your families.

The incident wouldn’t be brought up again until a week later in the lab, where you thankfully didn’t need to worry about everyone watching you. You talked it over, and you explained your mindset more to Donnie.

After that, things continued as normal. If you were fine with it, Donnie would make a point to make some kind of contact every so often. Usually not full on hugs unless he was in a particularly good mood, but he’d try to have a hand on your shoulder, or maybe holding your own hand.

It didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the others. Every so often, one of his brothers (usually Leo) would make a remark about your special treatment, but that was it. You didn’t feel like talking about it with much anyone else, anyways.

Neither of you were great at touch. That was simply a given of life. But you tried your best, and maybe that was enough. You just hoped you’d never have to go through that again.

[viperwhispered]

Indulgence

Jamil finds out his sweet, loving girlfriend is totally capable of absolutely ruining him.

Pure smut, written with fem reader in mind and utterly self-indulgent (basically, a birthday treat to myself).

Ngl, this kinda feels like a femdom love letter to Jamil.

You'd thought you were joking - partially, at least - when you told Jamil you’d be happy to have him all for yourself to do with him as you wished for your birthday. Yet Jamil, the perceptive partner he was, soon was teasing out the truth of that statement from you.

So, after some rather in-depth discussions, here you are, filled with anticipation and excitement - and, you have to admit, more than a bit of nerves. Wanting something and actually going through with it always are two very different things.

“Come on, love. Just enjoy yourself, however you wish,” Jamil coaxes you, cupping your cheeks as he peppers your face with soft kisses. He’s looking at you with such openness - eagerness, even - which makes it difficult for you to get lost in your own head.

So, instead you wrap your arms around Jamil's shoulders and nuzzle your face to his, a soft smile rising to your lips.

“Someone certainly seems intent on treating me today,” you say, your own lips seeking contact with Jamil’s skin.

“Knowing how excited you are by the idea… Can you blame me?” Jamil replies with a cheeky grin. All you can do is chuckle in response, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

“Well… Let’s hope you won't regret enabling me,” you say playfully.

Your lips finally find Jamil’s, meeting his with a soft, building pressure. You tug him closer by his hoodie, your tongue pushing between Jamil's lips and one of your hands seeking his hair. Jamil eagerly reciprocates your actions, the softness giving way to something more eager as you both deepen the kiss, your bodies pressing closer together and hands exploring.

Your eyes flutter closed as you breathe in through your nose, enjoying the way Jamil's mouth moves with yours, how your bodies are already fitting together. After a while, however, you begin to nudge Jamil backwards towards the bed, your lips still lingering against his.

It’s delightful how easily he complies, letting you guide his steps until his shins hit the edge of the bed. A gentle press of your palms onto his shoulders and Jamil’s eyes widen with momentary surprise as he falls back with a breathy oomph.

Still, Jamil’s quick to pull you down with him, grinning as you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. Jamil’s hands slide up along your waist, your dress bunched up around your legs.

You brace yourself with one arm, your palm on the mattress right above Jamil’s shoulder, and you lean over him. You brush your fingers along his jaw, slowly tracing the contours of Jamil’s face.

“So you’re mine to enjoy as I wish tonight, huh?” you say in a low, almost contemplative tone, your thumb tracing the outline of Jamil’s lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s a slight breathlessness to Jamil’s tone, his eyes a little darker than usual, and you relish the sight of him already being affected.

Of course, this is just the beginning - but a good beginning, nonetheless, easily helping you feel more bold.

“Hmm, I suppose then the question is… Just what do I want to do with you first?” you murmur, your tone lowering to a more sensual, husky register.

You slide your thumb up, over the plumpness of Jamil’s lower lip, and press down gently. After the briefest moment of surprised hesitation he parts his lips for you and wraps his tongue around the digit, sucking on it lightly.

You’re not quite expecting the rush of warmth that shoots to your core. Jamil beneath you, his hair spilled over the bed, those gray eyes so intently trained on you as he obediently sucks on your thumb… Oh, it’s already so heady, making your mind and heart race.

“Mmm, look at you, being so good for me,” you purr. You keep your thumb in his mouth for a moment longer, enjoying the darkening of Jamil’s cheeks and the way his eyes flick over to the side even as his mouth slowly continues working.

Soon you drag your thumb out by the corner of his mouth, smearing his saliva over Jamil’s cheek. You slide your hand further until cup the corner of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest right before Jamil’s ear while the rest of your fingers slip into his hair.

You lean down further, and your lips meet in a slow, sensual kiss. Your tongue tangles with Jamil’s as you take your time tasting and enjoying him. You more feel than hear the soft moan that Jamil makes against your lips, lighting yet another fire within you. With a groan you press your body more firmly against his, wanting to feel every bit of him against you, your bodies undulating together.

You feel the firm pressure of Jamil’s hands sliding up along your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You nip on Jamil’s lower lip, his gasp sending another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You move your hand to his ponytail, your tug eliciting another sharp inhale from him. With your urging Jamil soon tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you.

You can feel the unevenness of Jamil’s breaths beneath you, soft, delightful noises catching in his throat.

“Mmm, aren’t you such a compliant treat tonight,” you tease Jamil, hearing him huff in response.

“The things I do for you,” he muses, not a hint of bite in his words.

You chuckle and trail your lips along his jaw, planting a line of soft kisses until you’re below his ear. There you tug Jamil’s earlobe with your teeth, delighting in the way you can feel him squirm beneath you. You trace the tip of your tongue along the shell of his ear, making Jamil hiss and tense.

You chuckle, your warm breath fanning Jamil’s ear and the moisture left behind by your lips and tongue.

“Already twitching, are we?” you tease him - as if you weren't purposefully targeting the weak spots you're well aware of.

“Shush,” Jamil says, swatting you lightly.

You chuckle and move your lips lower from his ear, slowly kissing your way down along Jamil’s neck. You keep your grip on his hair, urging him to keep still as you continue teasing him with your mouth. You place warm, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, only changing your course when you come to the neckline of his shirt.

You feel the way Jamil tenses beneath you when you move up the column of his throat, even if you keep your kisses light on such a vulnerable spot. Yet, when you notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you can’t resist softly wrapping your lips around it. The action earns you a strangled sound from Jamil, who tries to pull back but is unable to quite do so.

“Uncomfortable?” you ask softly, peppering soft, almost apologetic kisses to his jaw.

“A bit,” Jamil breathes out, his chest noticeably rising and falling.

“Noted,” you murmur.

You move to the other side of his neck - you loosen your hold on Jamil’s hair, yet he tilts his head aside just the same, taking in a deep breath as he does so. You smirk against his skin, satisfied to see him so pliant.

There’s definitely a part of you that would love to see him like this more often.

This time you don’t settle for just soft kisses. You let your teeth graze Jamil’s skin, a shiver of delight going down your spine when you hear him hiss in response.

And when you get to that particular spot where his neck meets his shoulder you basically latch on, sucking on the skin. Jamil inhales sharply, grasping onto you tighter, his neck arching and tensing beneath you.

“Ahh-” It’s a soft, barely audible sound, yet hearing the cry escape Jamil’s lips fills you with warm satisfaction. You bite harder, feeling the way Jamil jolts beneath you, before you allow him reprieve and soothe your tongue over the spot.

“You’re not usually this… aggressive,” Jamil breathes out.

“You know you can stop me if you need me to,” you say, sticking to the softer kisses for the moment.

“No need,” Jamil says, letting out a shaky breath. You can practically feel the way he’s trying to relax, at least a little, even as he’s trying to anticipate your next move.

You tug on Jamil’s neckline, teasing as far down his shoulders and collarbones as you comfortably can with your kisses and licks.

Yet, as much as you’re loving the reactions you’ve gotten out of Jamil so far, it’s becoming more and more apparent that just teasing his neck is not enough for you.

You lean back, sitting up on Jamil’s lap. Your hands slowly trail down from Jamil’s shoulders along his body, your eyes half-lidded as you regard him.

There’s a delightfully flustered look on Jamil’s features, his lips slightly parted as he looks at you intently.

“You know… I think we’re going to have to get you undressed,” you murmur, smirking when you see the effect your words have on Jamil.

“Are we now?” he asks with a grin.

“Mhmm. I mean, I can hardly enjoy you to my heart’s content otherwise, now can I.”

You lean down for one more kiss, your hand lingering on Jamil’s side, your hips slightly rocking into his. You’re both making soft noises into the kiss, momentarily distracted by each other, before you finally pull yourself off Jamil’s lap and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“So… Lose those clothes for me, now would you?” you say with a grin, giving Jamil an expectant look.

There’s barely any hesitation when Jamil gets up from the bed. You can tell he’s feeling a little awkward with you looking at him like this, waiting for him to undress for you, yet there’s also a part of him reveling in being the center of your attention.

So, Jamil pulls off his hoodie by the neck, slowly revealing his body for your greedy eyes. His movements are fluid, deliberate, despite the mixture of embarrassment and excitement that’s evident on his features. The flex and curl of his body entrances you, your eyes drinking in every little movement and the dancer’s grace he displays.

His shirt thrown aside Jamil moves to his trousers, slowly pulling them down along his legs and revealing the way his cock is already tenting his underwear. You find yourself leaning forward, taking in all the wonders of his body - a sight you never seem to tire of. Jamil’s hair cascades over his shoulder when he bends down and he pulls one leg free, then the other, until he’s left in just his underwear, his fingers hooked under the waistband.

“Careful, you might start drooling,” Jamil teases you, clearly satisfied with your rapt attention.

“Oh, but can you blame me?” you respond playfully, feeling the flush on your cheeks.

You slide your palms down your legs, gripping your knees, as Jamil removes that last piece of clothing.

“There we go,” you say huskily, your eyes raking over Jamil’s exposed body. The planes of his chest, the softness of his stomach, the patch of dark, curly hair surrounding the cock that’s slowly stirring to life under your eyes, the lean limbs and that lovely brown skin...

“Come here,” you say, lifting a hand.

Once again, Jamil complies, and when he’s within your reach you pull him to stand between your legs, running your palms over him. Just a sliver of exposed skin always has you itching to touch - or to kiss, as it may be - so the sight of Jamil fully bare before you like this is as irresistible as ever. You press soft kisses to his stomach, your hands following the curve of his back until you can grip his rear.

“For all we discussed, I did not think you being in charge would involve you being this adoring,” Jamil says, trying to hide his fluster behind playful words.

You chuckle against his skin, squeezing his ass in response.

“All part of enjoying you, you know,” you say, looking up at Jamil with a playful, loving smile.

“Is that so,” Jamil murmurs, cupping your cheek.

“Mhmm,” you nod. “Now… Lay down on the bed for me. In the middle of it, on your back,” you say, giving Jamil’s hip a playful nudge to get him moving.

While Jamil settles down, you pull off your tights and underwear, dropping them on the pile of Jamil’s clothes. Then you walk around the bed, admiring the sight of Jamil sprawled on the bed - all for you. He’s folded his hands behind his head, his gaze following you. It feels like you’re trying to devour all of him at once with your eyes, not knowing where to settle when all of him is calling to you so.

You grab the cuffs you set aside earlier and crawl over to Jamil on your hands and knees.

Sure, it would be easier to just sit next to Jamil while you tie up his wrists. But where’s the fun in that? So you straddle his chest instead, your bare groin against his skin, and lean over to capture his hands.

“Cheeky. Are you keeping the rest on?” Jamil asks, pushing his chest against you.

“For now, at least,” you say lightly.

You trace your palms over Jamil's arms, guiding his hands above his head. After looping the cuffs around the headboard you fasten them around Jamil's wrists, making sure they're snug but not too tight.

“How’s that?” you ask, running your fingers over the cuffs.

Jamil flexes his fingers, shifts his arms, testing the feel of the bindings.

“Feels fine.”

“Good. Let me know if that changes,” you murmur.

You caress Jamil’s face, tracing his features. Your thumb brushes his cheek, and with a soft breath he nuzzles into the touch.

Gently, you guide Jamil to tilt his head to the side. You pull loose his ponytail, running your fingers through his hair.

Soon, Jamil’s hair is spilled around him on the bed, yet another lovely addition to the scene unfolding before you. Jamil, bound and bare beneath you, his cheeks darkened and eyes trained on you.

Not often do you get Jamil looking at you with such vulnerability, and the sight of it makes your heart flutter. He’s clearly filled with anticipation, too, with the trepidation of surrender. Yet, there is trust in him as well, trust in the way he’s yielding to you and all but urging you to continue.

Oh, you’d love to take a picture of him like this, commit the sight to memory and never let go of it.

Slowly, you drag your body down along Jamil’s, some of the wetness of your pussy leaking onto his skin. You feel Jamil’s tension beneath you, his breaths uneven and his hands flexing.

You only stop your movement when your pussy is right over Jamil’s hardening cock. You let your weight settle on him, pinning him down and holding him still under your warmth.

There’s a definite sharpness to Jamil’s inhale. He wriggles beneath you, what little he can, testing your control over him, and you press yourself down more firmly on him.

“Behave yourself, won’t you,” you say playfully, pushing down onto his shoulders.

“Or you’ll make me?” Jamil asks, humor and challenge evident.

“Indeed. Glad you understand,” you grin.

You draw your hands down over Jamil’s body, this time without the barrier of his clothes. From his shoulders across his chest and stomach your fingers dig into him, his skin pushed into ridges and divots under your touch.

Jamil’s body flexes beneath your touch, muscles rippling with tension and the release of it as your hands make their way. His eyes are trained on you, so intently, his palpable anticipation and the responsiveness of his body filling you with triumph.

You lean down again, your hair falling down over your shoulder and spilling over Jamil’s bare chest.

“Mmm… You really are such a delight, my dear,” you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

You return your mouth to Jamil’s skin, trailing kisses and nips from his jaw down along his neck and collarbones. When you make your way down to his chest, you twirl your tongue around a nipple, Jamil’s body jolting in response.

Yet, that reaction is nothing compared to when you bring in your teeth, enclosing that sensitive point of Jamil’s chest in your mouth but not directly biting the nipple. You slowly increase the pressure of your bite until Jamil’s breaths turn into hisses, body writhing.

Oh, he’s actually whimpering.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to keep some rein over your baser instincts. Oh, how you want to push harder, grip tighter. How you want those sweet noises to increase in volume and pitch until neither of you would know anything else.

Once again, you soothe over the spot with soft kisses and kitten licks, a dark part of you hoping you’ve left a mark that might stay for a while. It is not like you to hurt or mark just for the sake of it, but Jamil’s reactions, the thought of the evidence of your dominance lingering on his skin… Oh, it is most tempting indeed.

“Was that too much?” you ask lowly, just in case, still feeling Jamil’s tension beneath you.

“Nhnh… I told you. You can let go tonight.”

You laugh in response, a mischievous grin on your lips as your eyes meet Jamil’s. Oh, you can tell he means it, despite the heaving of his chest. There’s that shine in his eyes, such a vivid spark of desire. A desire for more, a desire to see how much you can do and how much he can take.

“If you say so,” you say with smug satisfaction.

You return to your task, your mouth - your lips, your tongue, your teeth - traversing Jamil’s body, taking your time to enjoy every inch of skin as you slowly move lower. The dips of his chest, the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his stomach… You take your time savoring - and marking - it all.

With your actions Jamil’s getting increasingly restless, drawing in sharp hisses of breath, tugging on his restraints, squirming beneath you.

Yet, not once has he asked you to stop, or to go easier on him.

You’ve slid down far enough for you to feel the twitch of Jamil’s cock against your breasts, his hips wriggling beneath you. You press your hands on him more firmly, keeping him still, nipping on the skin of his stomach both to warn him to behave and to urge him to react even more.

Moving lower again, your tongue follows the line of his hip towards his groin, teasing and tantalizing. Yet when you feel the coarse curls against your cheek you change course, moving to kiss your way down Jamil’s thigh instead.

Jamil hisses out your name, his hips bucking, and there’s no hiding your smug, satisfied look.

“Something the matter, my dear?” you ask, as innocently as you can muster. You grip Jamil’s hips tighter while you suck the soft skin of his inner thigh between your teeth.

“Ahh!” Jamil cries out, his leg twitching.

“You’re such a tease,” he huffs, nearly panting.

You let out another satisfied laugh and drag your nails down the outside of his thigh, loving each and every one of Jamil’s reactions.

“You’re the one who told me to enjoy myself and not hold back,” you say with a smirk.

“Please. At least…” Jamil’s words trail off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“You’re going to have to ask for it to get what you want, you know,” you say, your words low and sultry. You caress a splayed palm up along the top of Jamil’s thigh, your thumb just brushing the edge of his pubes.

“Please. I’m aching for you,” Jamil pleads, emphasizing his words with a twitch of his hips, his heavy cock bobbing with the movement.

Oh, that plea was one of the sweetest things you had ever heard from him, your core throbbing just with the sound of it.

You tilt your head, as if thinking over his words.

“Asking for relief, are you, my love?” you ask. You brush your fingers over his hardened cock, the lightest of touches on the velvety skin, yet that is enough to make Jamil inhale sharply.

“Yes,” Jamil breathes out, his eyes wide, expectant, when he looks up at you.

There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil.

Then again, he had been the one telling you to not hold back. That he could take it.

You reach over to the bedside table and pull out a vibrator from the drawer. You keep it concealed from Jamil, just to prolong the tension - though he does know well enough what sort of things have been stashed away there.

A pump of lube from the bottle on the nightstand, smeared against the tip of the toy with your palm. You wipe your hand mostly clean against Jamil's thigh and bring the vibrator to the underside of his cock. For now, you keep it turned off, just slowly moving it along his sensitive parts in circular motions.

Even like this, there are a few spots that make Jamil's cock twitch or body tense.

Then you turn on the vibration, and Jamil actually gasps.

“How's that?” you ask in a low tone.

“It's…” Jamil pauses, as if considering the sensation. “It… feels good.”

“Well, my dear… If there’s something you like in particular, I’d love to hear it,” you purr.

At this point, Jamil’s responsive enough that it’s not difficult for you to tell what the most sensitive spots are just by judging his reactions. Yet, hearing him admit it, too, telling you what he likes, what he wants more of… oh, it’s absolutely delicious. So, whenever he does admit to something feeling good, you gladly reward him by giving special attention to that particular spot.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” you say with a satisfied smirk, pressing the vibrator more firmly down against the sensitive spot right under the head of his cock, your other hand cradling his hardness to keep it still.

“Yes, nghh…” Jamil groans in response. You can tell he wants to buck and twitch, yet he’s trying to keep still with you touching such sensitive parts.

You press down, ease up the pressure, time and time again, until Jamil is quivering, his legs twitching and body curling with the intensity of it all. You can see his arousal, impatience and tension building, his whole body pulled taut as a wire, only for you to ease up once again and switch to gentle caresses.

If you’d enjoyed his whimpers before, now Jamil’s noises and reactions were absolutely delightful. Whimpers, hisses, groans and breathy words… Oh, it was driving you wild, seeing him like this.

“Please…. How long do you plan on just teasing me?” Jamil whines, a mess of longing and frustration.

“Well… I could listen to those sweet noises you’re making for quite some time, you know,” you say casually, flipping the vibrator to life once again.

A strangled, indignant noise catches in Jamil’s throat, the color of his cheeks quickly darkening further. You can’t help laughing in response, even as you lean down to press a greedy kiss to his lips.

“I mean… You are so wonderfully responsive right now, and it’s just absolutely delicious seeing you like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing Jamil’s cheek.

“You’re tormenting me,” Jamil huffs.

You can see how taut the bindings on his hands are, how tense his body is as he practically trembles to do something instead of just having to take what you have to give.

“And do you dislike it?” you ask with a smirk, pressing the buzzing vibrator against Jamil and pulling another wide-eyed gasp out of him.

Jamil swallows thickly enough that you can see the bobbing of his throat.

“...No. I don’t,” he sighs.

Jamil takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself.

“Please… Let me have more of you,” he begs, looking over the dress you’re still wearing.

Perhaps you could grant him a little more. He’s been such a delight, after all.

“Hmm… Maybe I can give you that,” you murmur, once again weighing your options.

You settle the vibrator down to a spot you know gets to Jamil, drinking in his reactions as you slip your hand under your dress. You slide your fingers between your pussy lips, fondling your clit. You know Jamil can't quite see what you were doing, the hem of your dress covering it up, yet you’re sure he can guess. 

The way he looks at you, eyes burning as his bindings keep his hands away, certainly suggests so.

“Patience, my dear,” you say teasingly.

The buzzing of the vibrator and Jamil’s shaky noises are joined by the lewd sound of your fingers finding your wetness, the shuddering breath you take when you find just the right angle. Your eyes don’t leave each other, both of you watching the other get lost in the pleasure - all of it by your hand.

Then, finally, you move, pressing your wet cunt right against Jamil’s aching cock. Jamil’s hips buck, a low, needy noise falling from his lips. You rock yourself against him, coating him in your juices as you prepare yourself to take him.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Jamil groans, his eyes brimming with desire, his voice ready to break at any moment.

“Maybe if you ask me sweetly enough,” you say, reveling in the power you have over him.

Yet, before Jamil has the chance to consider begging, you take his cock into your hand and guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds. Your dress is still pooled around you, covering the way you’re joined, the hem gathered over Jamil’s belly.

Jamil’s moan is pure music to your ears, your core throbbing as you slowly ease him in. It’s a delicious feeling of fullness, his hard, straining cock stretching you open, settling snugly within you.

Once Jamil's fully enveloped by your welcoming cunt, you settle down more comfortably on his lap. You grab the vibrator you just used on Jamil and slip it under your dress to bring it to your clit. With a soft gasp you lean your head back, a jolt shooting through your nerves when you find just the right spot to tease with the toy. 

You keep mostly still on Jamil, the faint reverberations of the vibrator and the flutter of your pussy around Jamil’s cock all the stimulation you grant him. It’s always particularly wonderful, combining such stimulation with the sensation of having your pussy filled - and even more delicious now, when it’s Jamil inside you, when you get to enjoy his every reaction to your actions.

Jamil growls, his hips bucking up to you nigh uselessly. Your name on his lips is somewhere between a plea and an admonishment, your continued teasing and denial driving him towards his breaking point.

“Love… Please, please, I need you to move, I need you to milk me with this perfect pussy of yours, please…” Jamil whines, another desperate thrust of his hips finding enough purchase to nearly topple you forwards.

You click your tongue and give Jamil a warning look.

“Keep still, my dear.”

“I can’t help it when I want you so much. Do you even know what you’ve done to me?”

Jamil seems so sincere, all his pretenses fallen, yet you can recognize the part of him that likes to rely on honeyed words to get what he wants. Still, his desperate desire is undeniable, his body quivering beneath you, all of him full of wanton need that only feeds your own arousal.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” you goad Jamil, still pleasuring yourself with the toy, feeling the warm pleasure fill you as your body tenses.

Jamil pauses, his tongue darting out from the corner of his mouth.

“You… You have such power over me, driving me completely wild with the way you’ve been teasing me… Please, won’t you have some mercy on me? I need you, need to feel you properly, need both of us to feel good..”

The genuine need in Jamil’s tone makes you groan, a shudder running down your spine all the way to your cunt.

So you drop the vibrator to the bed and place your hands on either side of Jamil, bracing yourself as you begin to move.

“Ahh, yes!” Jamil moans, his head tilted back, his hips quickly moving to match your rhythm.

You’re tempted to remind him to keep still, but at this point you can’t resist, either. In fact, you love feeling his eagerness, the desperate way he’s rutting into you from below.

You lean back, pulling your dress over your head and tossing it away. Your bra soon gets the same treatment, finally leaving you bare for Jamil’s eyes to devour.

“Better?” you ask with a playful smile as you lean down again, beginning to ride Jamil in earnest.

“Yes,” he breathes out, bracing his feet against the bed so that he can move with you with more force.

Soon, you’re both panting and moaning, all the buildup leaving you both on the verge of release. Your bodies meet time and again, a forceful smack of your hips as you take Jamil’s cock deep within you over and over. It’s so delicious, the way his cock is dragging along your insides, the way Jamil’s fully let go and just chasing more of you. You lean lower, your lips meeting in a sloppy, delirious kiss that’s muffling both of your moans.

“Gonna come for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill me with your cum?” you murmur hotly against Jamil’s mouth, a moan falling from his lips in response.

“Mhmm, I’d love to drive you into the mattress right now, smother you with kisses, touch you all over…” Jamil groans, his hands clenched into fists in the cuffs.

You can’t help your breathless laugh in response. “Well, turns out that’s my privilege tonight,” you tease him, adjusting your position so that you can tug on Jamil’s hair before giving him another fierce, hungry kiss.

Jamil’s eyes scrunch closed, his breathing uneven, his thrusts faltering. You pick up the pace, sliding up and down on his cock, until you see the bliss of his orgasm overtake Jamil. He groans, spilling his load inside you, face contorted in pleasure as his body trembles.

“There you go,” you breathe out, giving Jamil another deep, passionate kiss, stealing the last of his breath away.

Your hips slow, settling down against Jamil’s again, his cock and cum swallowed by your cunt. You grab the toy again, leaning back, gasping when you feel the buzz on your clit.

“Mmm, let me see you come, let me feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jamil urges you, even breathless as he is from his own release.

It does not take you long to follow after Jamil. The tension has your legs trembling, the pleasure building in your core until you can’t contain it anymore. The burning bliss takes you under, both of you gasping when your pussy clenches around Jamil’s cock in a tight squeeze. Your back arches, body jolting, as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Eventually, you toss the toy aside and slump against Jamil, your lips fumbling against his, both of your breaths ragged and chests heaving. You remain there for a moment, savoring your afterglow and the feel of Jamil’s body against yours.

“I swear, love, if you don’t let me touch you soon…” Jamil says in a low, breathy tone.

You chuckle, pecking Jamil’s cheek quickly.

“I suppose I should,” you mumble, lazily moving to undo Jamil’s hands despite the languidness that’s taken over your body.

You kiss over Jamil’s wrists as you release them, making sure he’s fine. There’s some indentations on his skin, presumably from the way he pulled against the restraints, but nothing for you to worry over.

As soon as he can, Jamil pulls you close, feeling you up as if making up for lost time. You chuckle, gladly enjoying the touches and the skin to skin contact.

“Mhmm… How are you feeling, my dear?” you ask softly, still a little out of breath.

“Oh, love… You really are something else,” Jamil mumbles, his face nuzzled into your neck.

You smile, feeling the warm satisfaction settle within you.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, then,” you murmur, settling more comfortably against Jamil.

“Who knew my sweet girlfriend had such a side to her,” Jamil says, his tone teasing - though you suspect he’s also trying to cover up just how affected he is.

“Who knew my stubborn boyfriend would be so willing to go along with it,” you tease back.

You take in a soft breath, enjoying the feel of Jamil's body against yours. It was always particularly sweet, feeling Jamil’s body against yours after sex, and you found yourself practically soaking in Jamil's presence. 

Jamil's lips lock with yours, the kiss languid and tender, yet tinged with the remains of your passion. 

Happily, you sink into the softness of the moment, the heady satisfaction of your lovemaking mixing with the warm comfort of the current moment.

“So…” you murmur, your fingers trailing on Jamil’s skin. “Do you think you’ll let me do this again sometime?”

Jamil chuckles, giving you an amused, affectionate look.

“Hmm… I think you could persuade me, yes,” he says teasingly. “Though I will definitely have to pay back the favor sometime, too.”

You chuckle.

“Maybe I could be persuaded, too,” you grin and move in for another soft kiss.

Hopefully y'all enjoyed this (and this doesn't have just the target audience of me personally). As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

Also I wrote this on an awkward loan laptop instead of my own PC so please, if there's any mistakes, do let me know so I can sort them out.

This line sure was telling of my whole writing process: "There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil." So many places I could've gone with this, but this is where we ended up (this time).

If you'd like to be tagged for my future works, let me know and I'll be happy to do so!

Tag list:

@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

[gay-dorito-dust]

Reptile/Syzith hc with a gender neutral partner who can respawn after death and he's not aware when it hoppemd? Like it's not something they told him be sure they didn't anticipate to die but one day they die in an accident. They stay dead for a bit but eventually 'load' back in and respawn completely unharmed as if nothing happened like it's a video game.

Gifted with an ability to seemingly never stay dead might’ve been a power many would make a wish for, but you would always say it was because they were looking at it from a surface level, seeing it as something for what they wanted it to be rather then acknowledging it for what it actually was; a curse. They’d never be able to comprehend the catastrophic consequences that comes with the ability, nor would ever understand how much it takes away from you until it was far too late.

Not to mention the toll it takes on your mental psyche.

To you, it wasn’t necessarily something you’d boldly put out there in the open nor admit to having pride in, for upon every time you’ve come back from the dead, it had left you feeling less and less human in every sense of the word.

You did feel some guilt when you actively decided to not tell Syzoth about your powers, seeing as you weren’t put in a situation where you could demonstrate actual proof of your ability. Yet due to this lack of foresight and preparation, it made the accident all the more heartbreaking for your reptiloid lover, who felt as though his last chance to being happy was ripped away from him in a violent manor; that of which left him feeling a sense of desperation to save you anyway he could.

Syzoth felt as though he was the one who died the night of the attack, he wasn’t that far away from the scene when it happened, but then why did Syzoth felt as though he were miles away as he watched with vengeful eyes and his heart in his throat. He tired to close the distance between him, you and your supposed killer but as he managed to make it to your side, the kill had cowardly ran off into the shadows; leaving a poor weeping Syzoth to pathetically scoop you up into his arms, cringing at how cold you were within his arms that felt all forms or wrong to him.

He didn’t want to believe it, not one bit. Someone or something out there didn’t want him to be happy and wanted to see how far they could break him. So to test that theory, they just had to take you from him didn’t they? Syzoth wished he had died instead and would probably ask for someone, anyone to kill him so that he may be with you in whatever afterlife you were currently residing in, waiting for him.

However those who were made aware of your abilities from firsthand experience should try and hold Syzoth from doing something rash before you returned. They’d look out for Syzoth on your behalf, much to his distain, but none of them were willing to risk the reaction you’d have should one of them ever have to tell you that Syzoth died to join you in the afterlife. After all it was only a matter of time before you’d respawned and it was up to them to keep Syzoth moving until then.

Unfortunately for them and Syzoth, it would be a long while before you finally managed to respawn again, meaning that you were genuinely dead for a bit and at first you thought that your powers had been taken from you, but it wasn’t long before you found out that was completely and utterly not the case as you found yourself with a face full of life and no visible wounds that you could see. So naturally you went to find Syzoth and tell him the truth.

Now imagine Syzoth’s surprise when he caught sight of you, alive and unharmed. The poor guy thought he was seeing your ghost or believed that his mind was messing with him into believing his most deepest of delusions. So right off the bat he was both startled and skeptical at the sight of you, thinking it was some darker forces at work who wanted to use your death as a way to manipulate him. His hurt was still fresh and Syzoth would very much like to not be reminded of his losses, especially during the times where he is most vulnerable and susceptible for manipulation.

Syzoth: who are you and why do you wear my lovers face?! Are you the one who took their life?!

You: woah Syzoth! Allow me to explain-

Syzoth: there is nothing that is needed to be explained! Reveal your true self before things gets messy! For I will avenge my lovers death.

You: I will not fight you Syzoth!

Syzoth: that’s too bad because I’ve been needing an excuse to start one.

You: you liked being cuddled up against me at night because you say I make the nightmares go away, that I make everything okay by putting you back together again piece by piece. You’d like to tell me that I’m your better half but i would always counter and say that you’re my better half.

Syzoth: …y/n?

You: You’ve always have been my better half Syzoth because ever since we’ve been dating I’ve been hiding apart of myself from you that I am ashamed of.

Syzoth: and whatever could you ashamed of, my love?

You: my power, my power is what I am ashamed of my beloved, for I can’t stay dead not matter what for I always seem to wake up with no dire wounds to speak of. Which is why you can see me as clearly as you do now.

Syzoth: you’re actually alive?

You: yeah. I’m sorry for lying to you my sweet.

Syzoth: you need not apologise my love, to know that you are still will me is all I ever wished for nowadays.

That night and every other night after Syzoth clings to you just that little bit tighter and stays by your side, refusing to ever part from you for long periods of time.

[shady-tavern]

A Dash of Villainy within a Hero, Part Two

Part One can be found here. Warnings ahead for murder and mentioned/implied though not graphic torture, mind manipulation and human experiments. Please take care of yourselves.

***

'I know a place' Madness had said after Song had landed, dropping him first and keeping her wings slightly flared after touching down with you, keeping a wary eye on him. You knew the only reason she didn't protest his presence was her trust in you. She trusted that you had a reason for this.

So you had followed Madness with careful caution, for there was no way either of you would lead him to your little hideout for the conversation you all wanted to have.

And, well, considering the glimpses of what you had gotten this night, it looked like you would need allies. You had no idea if villain allies were the way to go, but in this instance it might be something to consider.

Madness led you through a complicated route after sending a text and receiving one in return. The old house he ended up stopping in front was most likely a safehouse that he was going to burn after bringing Song and you here.

To your surprise, there was already someone waiting inside. A kid, sixteen at most and once they opened their mouth and said, "Hey!" you immediately recognized Doctor.

You felt Song tense at your back, heard the ruffle of her wings. Song had always had a massive soft spot for kids and even you had to admit that it unsettled you whenever underage villains or heroes showed up. The latter at least were put into training and were sent out with mentors until they were eighteen, but villain kids seemed to have fewer protections.

You glanced at Madness and noticed the way he watched you and Song from the corner of his eye, the angle of his body. He was ready to protect the kid, no matter what and somehow that made you feel a little bit better.

You were suddenly glad that Doctor was largely known for breaking in and stealing or destroying things and less for going up against heroes the way Madness did. The thought of having attacked a kid made you feel vaguely ill.

"So, I heard you know about Phoenix Project now," Doctor said, casting a quick glance at Madness, their shoulders relaxing a tad at whatever they saw on his face.

"Someone tried to kidnap me last night," Song answered. "Do you know anything about that?"

Doctor glanced at Madness again, a silent conversation taking place that ended with Madness sighing and Doctor looking smugly happy.

"Possibly," Doctor said and reached over the counter of the kitchen island and produced a laptop. They opened it, tapping away with quick fingers and then held it out.

Song and you stepped forward, you taking the laptop while Song leaned a bit onto your back, one wing coming up to curl against you as she looked over your shoulder.

"We don't know a whole lot yet," Doctor said, voice quieter than before and you still tracked Madness from the corner of your eye as he came to stand beside the kid. 

His eyes were a slightly darker violet when you glanced up. He was trusting you around Doctor about as much as you trusted him around Song, it seemed.

Then you focused on what was on the laptop and the more you read, the grimmer you grew. Doctor and Madness had created a chart, heroes retiring without ever being seen again, or dying with no proper proof of their death. They had even dug up a few caskets, only to find them empty.

And then they had stumbled across the term Phoenix Project and had traced it back to The Defenders. Where you had most likely run into Madness after he had broken in.

And now you had the name of someone involved in whatever the project was, one of your higher ups.

"Why do you care?" Song asked, looking up while you studied the chart again. There were more heroes they considered 'missing' rather than dead than you had thought.

Doctor was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "My older brother," they said quietly. "He was a hero and one day a year ago we got a call, that he died in the field. It was a closed casket funeral because of how mangled and burnt he supposedly was."

You glanced up and the kid looked angry and grieving and mulish. "I believed it at first," they continued. "But I kept thinking that something was off. When I asked his teammate, Quake, he was super evasive. And, uh, maybe one night I got super drunk and decided to dig him up. To see for myself that he was really gone. But his casket was empty."

Quake. It seemed he was another person you should chat with. You pulled out your phone after handing the laptop to a very quiet Song, showing Doctor and Madness the photos you had taken, catching them up on what you and Song knew.

Song glanced at you. "Guess who knows where Quake lives," she said and you found yourself grinning. It was not a nice grin.

"How about we extend our truce?" Madness offered and when you looked up, he had a smile on his face that looked the way your grin must have. "I bet my powers come in handy for interrogations."

As would yours. Song glanced between you and Madness and you could tell that she was imagining the sort of 'questioning' you two would create. She knew that you would not hesitate to hurt Quake in order to get your answers. 

You weren't as much of a good person as Song was. After what he had intended to do, what he had already done to Song, you absolutely were vindictive. A part of you hoped he would resist interrogation.

"If we do this," Song said quietly, "We may never be able to be heroes again."

"And if we do nothing and they catch up with us, I am dead and you will get dragged off to whatever and wherever this Phoenix Project is," you answered and she grimaced but didn't argue.

"Alright," Song said after a moment of silence, her voice grim. "I'll lead the way."

*.*.*

Quake was visibly agitated. He was pacing and continuously calling someone. Dawn was only just starting to break and despite this being a very long night, you were too wired to feel tired.

Whoever Quake wanted to contact, he clearly wasn't getting through.

Crouching side by side with Madness was...quite frankly, it was very weird. There was no way you trusted him, nor did you stop tracking his movements from the corner of your eye. It was best to be cautious, especially with someone who could mess with your mind at the drop of a hat.

"I can send him to sleep," Madness whispered and when you glanced at him, one brow raised, he shrugged. "My powers can do more than drive people to temporary insanity."

"Never would have guessed," you muttered and at his unimpressed look, you gestured for him to go ahead.

Madness moved cat-quiet, lowering himself from the ledge of the building to set down on the balcony across from Quake's home. You felt the hum of his power in the air, as did Quake, but he reacted too late. Most people reacted too late, and even then all one could do was try to run to escape from Madness' range.

Quake's eyes rolled back and he dropped limp to the floor. You felt Song's hand grip the back of your jacket and a moment later you were airborne. She dropped you onto Quake's balcony and landed, shifting her wing to the side to make space for Madness to leap across.

Breaking into the apartment was easy and it looked exactly like the sort of place a hero like Quake could afford. Until you looked closer and you saw that everything around you was expensive and new. 

From his fridge to his dishwasher, shiny marble countertops and solid wood furniture, things had been paid for with the sort of money Quake shouldn't have.

Little rat.

You dragged Quake away from the windows to his bedroom, where Madness pulled the curtain closed beforehand and Song took up a sentinel position.

"Alright, ready?" Madness asked as soon as Quake was tied to a chair and you gave him a nod. A moment later, Quake woke with a ragged gasp. He was, unsurprisingly, not pleased.

"Traitor," he hissed at you and you couldn't help but bark out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

"Pot, meet kettle," you said with a grin that was more a baring of teeth. "Tell me, how soon after Nightingale's disappearance would you have found a way to murder me?"

Quake grit his teeth but mulishly kept his mouth shut. "Madness," you said with such artificial sweetness your voice rivaled overly sweet, artificially colorful candy. "Would you like the honors?"

"My, I thought you would never ask," Madness answered with that same sort of over-the-top sugary sweet voice. "With pleasure."

He reached out a hand and you felt dark satisfaction at seeing Quake's eyes grow wide in fear. You shoved some of his balled up socks into his mouth just in time to muffle his howling.

Madness eased up after a moment and Quake was panting, his face having rapidly grown damp with sweat. He spat out his socks, shivering and gasping and his eyes were darting from side to side wildly.

From witness accounts you knew, while people didn't remember whatever Madness had put into their heads, the intense fear lingered. It faded within a half an hour, leaving them confused and vaguely unsettled, but nothing else.

"Now," you said and snapped your fingers together, creating brief sparks. "Wanna talk or do I get to play too?"

Quake swallowed harshly and audibly and you saw the exact moment he caved, the panicked hopelessness that gave way to grim resignation. Pity, you really would have loved to hurt him a bit for what he had done to Song.

"I'll tell you what I know," he grit out and you clapped your hands together, smiling brightly.

"How lovely, but do be truthful or my new friend here is going to have another jaunt in your gray matter."

Madness shifted his stance to something smugly satisfied, looking for all the world like a relaxed big cat after a successful hunt. "Indeed. Now, what do you know about the Phoenix Project?"

Quake swallowed again and seemed to want to resist just a little anyway – hero pride, you didn't blame him for that – before he caved, "I know they want heroes for it. The occasional villain too." He shrugged. "It's not really like the public can check the prison records."

You hadn't even thought about how unexpectedly...vulnerable captured villains could be. Considering the way a muscle in Madness's cheek jumped, neither had he.

"Who is involved?" Madness asked and Quake wet his lips.

"I don't know." He saw you lift your hand and Madness' eyes grew dark and hurriedly added, "I'm serious. I get a burner phone and laptop when I'm supposed to get them a hero or a villain."

"Who introduced you to them?" you asked and Quake looked away.

"I...might have done some illegal things," he said, shoulders hunching a bit. "And whoever 'they' are, they found out. I had a package delivered home, with copies of their evidence and demands to do what they wanted or I could kiss my job and reputation goodbye."

"And people like you dare to call themselves heroes," Madness sneered and you couldn't help but agree. What a selfish coward.

Quake gave up the rest of the information willingly. He told you which devices the information was on, that he had tried to gather as much blackmail as he could in return. He told you the passwords for all of his things and at last, Madness reached out and touched his forehead.

Quake went limp, staring dully into nothing, his breathing slow and even.

"Don't ask what I did," Madness said without looking at you. "And don't say he didn't deserve it."

You could take an educated guess on what he might have done, considering Quake's catatonic, empty eyed state. You shrugged. "I won't complain." Madness looked at you, surprise openly visible on his face.

You held his gaze. "Don't think you're the only vindictive one, Madness. He hurt my friend and tried to kill me and he has done so to other heroes in the past. Leave him trapped in nightmares for eternity for all I care."

As you left to join Song in the living room and start collecting Quake's things, you felt Madness' gaze on your back. Weirdly enough, the hostile air from before was gone.

Instead, he seemed almost...thoughtful.

*.*.*

Madness was infuriating and maddening and brilliant and you had to admit, after weeks of working together to uncover more about Phoenix Project, he was, maybe, possibly, perhaps growing on you. Like stinky fungus.

You could admit that you were grateful to him and Doctor. Thanks to the two villains Song and you had an actually safe place to hide in without going mad in the process. They offered protection as well, more than Song and you would have had on your own.

And tonight, at long last, you had a chance to get your hands at your former superior. Both Song and you had been declared rogues and to be captured upon sight for questioning. 

Song, sadly, had a hard time going anywhere incognito, her wings were a dead giveaway, so she was staying in the hideout a lot. It wasn't easy on her, but Doctor had found an old factory, a place with incredibly high ceilings so she could at least fly around and train.

Which meant you were teaming up with Madness in the meantime.

You once again crouched at the ledge of a building and watched the woman you were after leave her car, her butler opening the door to her mansion for her. The very same mansion you were already crouching on, ready to strike.

"Pretentious," you muttered, just as Madness whispered, "Tacky."

You didn't look at him, but you felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. It was perhaps softer than the usual sharp, toothy smiles that you aimed his way.

"Let's go," you whispered and got up, Madness following you.

With your powers it was easy enough to disable the lock on the rooftop door and slip inside. Madness took care of all the guards, though he was far gentler with the maid and butler, who he caught after putting them into a dreamless sleep for the next hour or so.

And then you were back to the fun part: questioning assholes.

The woman, a hero who had retired early and had made a ridiculous amount of money by taking a top-notch position in The Defenders, blustered and threatened but caved almost just as quickly as Quake head.

One of these days you'd have to ask Madness what exactly he was putting into people's heads.

This time, at least, you got some zaps in before the former hero, Paralytica, gave up. She had far, far more information than Quake and while it took some more persuading in-between the questions, you at last got names. You got names and you got a place.

"You won't get away with this," Paralytica snarled, sweating and panting and trembling slightly in the chair she was tied to. 

You sent all the information on her computer to Doctor, who would make sure nothing could be traced back to them. Her gaze burned into your side. "I will have you hunted down like the mangy dog you are."

Before you could so much as roll your eyes, Madness had gripped her head, making her flinch and go very still, her eyes wide. "And yet, somehow, this 'mangy dog' is worth more than all of you combined." Madness' eyes were a dark violet when they met your surprised gaze. "I might even start believing in heroes again."

You looked away, a near overwhelming mixture of emotions rising within you at his words. You felt touched and all soft and gooey-sweet inside and at the same time, you wanted to bluster and curse at him. Stupid asshole, what was his deal, saying nice things out of nowhere? That wasn't what you did, you sniped and argued and verbally elbow-checked each other. Not whatever...whatever this was.

"We're done here," you said just as the door was kicked down and previously silent heroes rushed in.

Paralytica had just one second of smirking in ugly triumph, before Madness' eyes turned almost black, his grip on her head tightening. She went limp, staring into nothing like Quake had, while the two of you sprung into hurried movement.

Madness wanted to fight, but when you hauled ass for the window, to your surprise, he followed instead of going on the offense. You jumped first, arms raised to protect your face, while he tossed out his powers, sending the all but one of the heroes to their knees with screeching, blood curdling screams.

You landed on soft grass, surrounded by glass shards and looking up just as Madness was forced to topple backwards out the window by a powerful, telekinetic wave. Huh. The Defenders had dug out one of ten people capable of withstanding Madness' powers it seemed. 

You didn't even think about it as you took a step forward, arms rising and you grunted as you caught him. He wasn't too heavy thankfully, especially since you were used to lugging Song's weight around in training.

His eyes were wide in surprise and the next moment you tightened your grip and zipped away with him. You were faster than Madness, even with his added weight. You were among the top ten fastest heroes currently employed in The Defenders and it really came in handy right now. 

Or well, formerly employed, you were pretty sure after today at the latest your fellow heroes would no longer consider you one of them.

The moment you were far enough from the mansion, you set Madness down, clapping him on the shoulder, "Let's scram."

You felt his gaze on your back again, staring and strangely heated.

*.*.*

You winced when you heard something break, exchanging a look with Song. Doctor wanted to come to the location where the Phoenix Project was supposedly taking place, while Madness was very much not in agreement. They were arguing very loudly and intensely.

"I'm not letting you risk your life!" Madness shouted.

"That is not your decision!" Doctor screamed back. "This is about my brother, you fucking asshole. I know you don't care, but I sure as shit do -"

"I care about you," Madness snapped back, Doctor falling silent. In a forcibly calmer voice, Madness continued, "I want you to have a life, to actually get to enjoy having your brother back. He'll need you. Whatever they've done to him in that hellhole, he's not going to be alright."

"If he's alive at all." You could barely heard Doctor's voice now. "And he'll be so disappointed in me. He always said I could do so much good with my brain."

"And you will," Madness said, voice as unyielding as the ocean tide. "Look at all your inventions, at all the good you will do for the medical field once you are ready. He can't blame you for taking what routes you had available in order to find him. Just let me go in and help me from the outside, like usual. Alright?"

"But what if something happens to you?" Doctor's voice was unexpectedly small. "I don't have anyone else, you know? No one else listened to some scrawny kid, especially not a dead hero's sibling."

"I'm not alone," Madness said and you felt a jolt at surprise at his words. You hadn't expected that he'd believe Song and you would watch his back. And you would protect him, you owed the infuriating man that much at least. "I'll have someone at my side and you for backup."

Doctor huffed a soft sound that was almost a laugh. "I thought heroes were pretentious bullshit people selling a long dead dream?"

"Most of them are. But...maybe there are one or two that are alright," Madness said and his voice had gone a little softer around the edges in a way that did funny things to your insides. 

Oh. ...oh fuck no.

When you glanced at Song, feeling slightly panicky, she blinked, then snorted. "Finally figured it out, huh?"

You made a face at her, she made one right back and you gladly hopped upon the distraction. That was how Doctor and Madness found you, with your tongue sticking out at Song, who was wriggling her fingers at you beside her temples.

"Children," Madness said with a mock-heavy voice. "I am surrounded by children."

"And I am surrounded by idiots, but what else is new," Doctor shot back and before you knew it, you were laughing.

It was a mixture of stress release, nervous realization about feelings and giddy anticipation for the upcoming infiltration. Along with the simple fact that Doctor was right, they were incredibly smart. 

It had also been a while since you had last laughed like this and Song's smile turned warm, one of her wings extending to curl around your shoulders.

To your surprise, even Madness seemed to soften, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth that had no right to look this cute. You forcibly shook the thought away. You had no reason to look at a villain and consider him cute. That would only end in disaster. Any of these newly realized, far too soft and squishy feelings would only end in disaster.

Heroes and villains didn't work out, that was a song as old as time.

"So," Song said, removing her wing to shake them both out. "What's the plan?"

The plan wasn't overly complicated. None of you were under any illusions about this. You didn't have the forces to storm the old prison the Phoenix Project was in, but you could infiltrate the place, set as many if not all of the captives free and gather enough information to present a case to fellow villains and heroes respectively.

The Defenders itself wasn't involved in the whole thing, but enough people in high positions along with a good handful of heroes were corrupt to cause problems. You would need a lot of good, hard evidence to convince everyone else of the truth. To make them fight back and clean the rot out of their ranks.

Villains didn't care about the troubles of heroes, but they would not like the thought of getting kidnapped once heroes defeated and imprisoned them either. Most villains were solo fighters and crusaders, but Madness had mentioned that there was a sort of unspoken codex. 

That sometimes, if necessary, all the different people and factions worked together to protect their collective future. And considering that goal of the Phoenix Project was to create synthetic powers or transplant powers, this would be of interest to many.

Who knew what other goals the Phoenix Project had, Paralytica hadn't known everything after all. She had just been interested in making more money.

"Song and I will create chaos," Madness said. "While Doctor's robot and you will infiltrate the building."

"I insulated my little helper well enough that he should be able to withstand your powers to a certain degree," Doctor said when you glanced at them. "And I can make it explode if necessary. It packs quite the punch."

Which was how you found yourself squished into a box in the back of a truck. Doctor had been the one to figure out the deliver routes to the old prison and now you were going to infiltrate the place through the backdoor. With a robot squished in beside you, all hard metal edges that were going to leave some weird looking bruises.

You were meant to wait until chaos broke out and sneak your way further in, hopefully encountering less resistance. No one would look at the delivery ramp when Song and Madness were attacking one of the side entrances. The main entrance would have made it too obvious that they were just the diversion.

The moment the box was set down with a grunt and people complaining how heavy it was, alarm sirens rang out shrilly and shouts were heard muffled through doors.

You waited until you couldn't hear rushing footsteps anymore, before you cracked the top of the crate open and slipped outside. Doctor's robot followed you silently and with surprising smoothness. The kid was really going to revolutionize so many fields once they went public with their inventions.

You had a comparatively easy time slipping inside, knocking out distracted guards as you went. Doctor's sleeping darts helped a lot too, if you couldn't sneak up on people to touch them.

You got a brief glance out the window once to see Song and Madness fighting in tandem, people littering the ground around them. Some were clutching their heads, screaming, others just grew slow and sluggish and then fell asleep the moment they heard Song's lullaby.

They were a nasty team, you had to admit. If Song had turned to villainy instead of heroism and those two had ended up working together, the world of heroics might just have been thoroughly fucked. 

"This way," Doctor hissed through the speaker on the robot, which looked more like some kind of alien dog than humanoid. They had mentioned it had made balancing easier at the time of its creation.

Doctor and you made it up to the main control room, which doubled as an office for the big boss, with relative ease. You cracked open windows along the way to let Song's song in, your special ear plugs – made back when Song and you first started heroing – the only thing currently keeping you safe. 

People inside the building grew ever more sluggish and sleepy, which made it easier to take them out. If they weren't already asleep by the time you snuck past them.

"I'll get the data," Doctor said the moment you knocked out the big boss of the place – a tall, muscular man with a shaved head that had turned a startling, angry red when he had spotted you too late. "You go free the prisoners."

You went to the control panel at the side of the room and started flicking switches. On the monitors cell doors opened with metallic screeching and the first person stepped outside. 

You were horrified to recognize her as Supernova, a famous hero celebrity that had been widely mourned after her death. Even on the slightly grainy feed she looked half skeletal and very, very desperately determined.

You bit back a wince when she immediately tossed out her powers, shredding guards that rushed towards her with a miniature black hole. Supernova had never killed before, if anything she had been so very careful to never hurt anyone with her destructive powers. She staggered and sagged, only to be caught by a villain who had rushed out of the neighboring cell. 

You recognized that one too. Their name was Sun and they pulled one of Supernova's arms over their shoulders, slamming a foot against the ground and making it erupt with intense enough fire and heat that you heard people scream somewhere outside the camera focus.

More and more heroes and villains left their cells, all working together to break out. To help each other escape. Not a single one was left behind. It seemed you wouldn't have to tear the place down later after all, not much would be left standing in the aftermath of their escape. Good.

"My brother?" Doctor asked, sounding half focused and half desperate.

"I haven't seen him in the cells," you answered and you heard the click-clack of the keyboard grow faster.

"Found him!" Doctor half shouted. "He's currently in one of the examination rooms."

"I'll go get him," you said. "You focus on downloading everything."

"Understood," Doctor's robot looked up briefly, the single camera lens visibly focusing on you. "Please, be careful."

You threw him a quick salute before you slipped out of the room. The old prison was in such brutal chaos, people running and rushing about, the smart ones even running away, that you had it laughably easy.

The examination rooms were half filled with doctors and a handful of heroes and villains when you arrived. The electronic doors were locked and the doctors looked tense but vaguely, grimly victorious at the same time. They considered themselves safe, behind these thick, reinforced doors that could withstand a lot of superpowers.

But this was where your powers really came in handy, because they could not keep you out if you fried their pretty little mechanical doors to death.

Those doors always clicked open when they were overloaded, a safety mechanism to avoid locking people in, in case of emergencies. They had to be able to leave if they wanted to after all. You made quick work of the doctors, most which had no powers at all.

The second you had knocked out the first set of doctors and freed two of the people on the tables, they threw themselves into the fight alongside you. They didn't have much stamina anymore, but they were fierce, bringing with them a brutality born out of a soul-deep desperation to finally make it out. They knew this might very well be their only chance to escape.

You found Doctor's brother last, he was unconscious and looked rather awful. Scarred and thin and visibly exhausted even as he laid there limply. You pulled the needle out of his arm – it was most likely feeding him sedatives – and threw him over your shoulder.

"Everyone out," you shouted just as the last doctor fell after a big, burly woman had grabbed his head and slammed it hard enough against the wall that you knew this man was never going to get up again.

In all honesty, you did not care, there was even a part of you that felt quietly and darkly vindictive. If anyone asked you, those people had gotten their just desserts – if anything, they deserved worse.

As you led the group of limping, swaying people up the stairs, most of them supporting each other to keep going, acrid and thick smells filled the air. Smoke and acid and ozone, along with something that tasted metallic on your tongue.

You made it past people half dissolved in acid, past scorch marks and walls that looked like they had turned liquid and pierced inward, impaling guards, before turning solid again.

Doctor's robot slid up to your side as you rushed towards the delivery hangar and you heard his audible gasp as he saw his brother across your shoulder.

You heard more gasps and even a sob as you broke out the door and into sunlight. There was an audible fight still going on elsewhere, so you entrusted Doctor's brother to his robot and told the group to follow them. They'd be led to safety.

When you joined the main fight, it was a brutal showdown between the fighting forces of the old prison, along with some suit and ties that had shown up and the banded together heroes and villains.

Most of them were no longer capable of battle however, swaying in place and some were already crumpled on the floor. Song had stopped her lullaby and was now swooping in and out of the rows of enemies, knocking people over, while Madness extended his powers further.

When you reached his side, he was out of breath and sweat was rolling down his chin.

"We're ready to leave," you told him and he grinned briefly, an expression of such fierce, relieved victory that you could only grin back. "Don't hit me with your shit."

With those words you threw yourself into the fray, dodging around the guards to square up with the three suit and ties, for they had brought rather strong powers with them. If you could take them out, everyone could get away with little trouble.

They were nasty pieces of work, forcing you to duck below blades thrown by telekinesis – and the bodies of some of the guards – as well as dodge conjured vines that wanted to tie you down.

One vine snapped around your arm, ready to fling you back and you grit your teeth against the pain as you threw yourself forward. You heard a bone crunch before you felt the pain, a dagger slicing past your cheek, another finding the meat of your thigh.

But now you were right in front of them and they clearly had no idea who you were outside of your hero costume, for they did not dodge back. Their eyes grew wide in realization when the one with the vine powers crumbled at a single touch and now they were hurriedly trying to get away.

Which was when Song swooped in from overhead, dropping her full weight on the suit and tie to the left, arching her wings up high to ensure she would not block your path.

Her rapid descending and distraction was all the chance you needed. You slammed the bare palm of your good hand against the woman's nose, who fell like a sack of bricks, daggers clattering to the ground as her limbs twitched slightly.

"Are you alright?" Song asked, wings snapping out to topple two guards that tried to rush in.

"I'll be fine," you said, her gaze already spotting the knife in your leg and your awkwardly held arm. A heavy wave of power in the air caused the rest of the guards to scream, all of them dropping their weapons, half of them running away, the other half clawing at their own skin.

You'd really have to ask Madness about the details on his powers one of these days. Song gripped you around the waist and with a quick hop and flap of her wings, brought you back to Madness and the rescued heroes and villains.

Madness' face grew tense and pinched when he saw you, eyes briefly turning black, before he exhaled roughly and focused on getting everyone up and moving.

At least the escape part was easy enough with the old prison utterly disabled. It was in a remote location, so no one had to worry about outside help arriving. Not that anyone in that cursed place would have called The Defenders for help, they wouldn't want the scrutiny after all.

You got first aid treatment by none other than Madness. His hands were surprisingly gentle, while Song pointed out all the cars around the place, getting the rescued heroes and villains organized. 

They were soon ready to head to a pre-prepared place to group up and decide what they wanted to do. They would need proper medical treatment soon though, that was for sure.

You drove back with Madness and Supernova and Sun, the two considered-dead people conked out on the backseat, while Song flew overhead to watch for danger. She wouldn't have fit in the car anyway, not with passengers and her large wings.

"Get some rest," Madness said after a couple of minutes of silence. "If you think you can sleep around a villain."

You snorted and closed your eyes. The pain meds you had gotten were really starting to kick in. "I let you at my injuries, didn't I? And I think our truce can extend until we're all ready to go home."

Madness just hummed quietly. "Could be more than a truce," he muttered, but by then you were already slipping off to sleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it or not.

*.*.*

The Phoenix Project made headlines everywhere. Doctor had made sure this horror story could not and would not be kept secret by anyone who wanted to keep heroes from looking bad.

The Defenders had a lot of hard work ahead of them, convincing the public that they were still trustworthy, that arrested people would not disappear without a trace again. That the heroes they employed could not be bribed too.

Song and you, meanwhile, were lauded as heroes. As in, a different kind of heroes. The kind that, well, that heroes were meant to be. Saviors, defenders of the weak. People who did the right thing, no matter who else was against them.

It was weird, was what it was. Song and you picked a new apartment with the help of Doctor, who made sure no word of its location got out. The kid had contacted you a couple of days after everything started blowing up, letting you know that they were hanging up the villain mantle.

They wanted to go back to school instead and take care of their brother. Though, they had mentioned that Madness was helping them get allies so that, when they did decide to present their inventions to the public in a year or two, no one would take advantage of them.

Madness had gone quiet and you were absolutely not thinking about that one frigging bit. He was a villain, you were a hero and your truce was over. You'd go back to the regularly scheduled program soon enough.

"Don't look so sour," Song said as she fixed her dress, turning once to show off the way it swirled and sparkled. Her wings were freshly groomed and shone beautifully in the overhead light. "How do I look?"

"Drop dead gorgeous," you answered honestly. "If people don't lay themselves at your feet so you can step on them, I will be sorely disappointed."

She laughed, reaching over to haul you into a tight hug, her wings encircling you. You hugged her back, some tension leeching out of you.

"Let's have a good night, alright?" Song said. "We deserve that much after all that we've been through."

"It's a party in our honor, it's going to be weird," you said and Song snorted.

"It's a party to celebrate the survivors. And maybe us, a little bit." She pulled back to grin down at you. "But what this really means is that we get to eat all the cute little fingerfood and if anyone looks at us weirdly, we just remind them that we were the ones to save the day."

You couldn't help but laugh, giving her arms a pat. "Alright, you win. But if I get tired, I'll just go home."

"Let me know and I'll go with you," Song offered. "We can put in one of the movies that came out while we were in hiding. I'll go make drinks and you make popcorn and we kick back for the rest of the night."

That actually sounded preferable to the party, but you had already agreed to show up. And, as Song said, the fingerfood was amazing. To die for, really.

The party was, indeed, a little bit of a stiff affair. Or rather, it was meant to present a united front to the press, show forgiveness on the side of the survivors and it allowed people to network.

You spoke with a couple of the rescued heroes that had shown up, Supernova frowning heavily and looking ready to bolt. You didn't mention the sun necklace she was wearing and fiddling with like it was a good luck pendant.

"Hey," a familiar, cheerful voice chirped behind you, just as you gathered as much fingerfood as your plate could hold. The server meanwhile looked on in horrified awe.

Surprised you turned around to see Doctor with their older brother. The brother looked miles better since you had last seen him. While he was still a bit gaunt, he had lost much of his thinness and his smile was sweet and charming, if a bit tired. 

His scars had faded a bit too, clearly the work of some great medical care. You wouldn't be surprised if Doctor played a part in that.

"My little sibling said I have you to thank for freeing me," he said and held out his hand. You quickly handed your heavily laden plate to the poor server, shaking his hand and then taking the plate back before any of the precariously stacked fingerfood could tumble to a sad little floor-death.

"No thanks necessary, but I am glad to see you're doing better," you answered, while Doctor stood beside you grinning and swaying back and forth a bit on their feet.

"Oh, I doubt you are as glad as I am," the brother answered, only for the smile to slip and crack like fragile glass. "I thought I was going to die in there," he said quietly and Doctor's cheer vanished instantly. "We all did. And then you guys showed up. You have no idea how grateful we are."

This was making you uncomfortable. "Are you still in contact with the others?"

He gave you a surprisingly sharp look, before relaxing a bit. "Yeah, we meet once a month to talk about things. In there...being a hero or a villain stopped meaning anything." He smiled a sad, shy little smile. "Can't count the amount of times a villain held me while I cried."

He cleared his throat, quickly moving on before you could respond. "But that doesn't matter anymore. Now all that matters is healing and making sure my sibling doesn't drop out of school. Again." The last word was said with a bit of reprimand.

You couldn't help but glance at Doctor, wondering if they had told their brother what they had been up to during his presumed death. Considering the stiff, warning smile Doctor gave you, they had said nothing. Fair enough.

"Are you going to eat all that?" Doctor asked instead, nodding at your full plate. 

"Double if no one stops me," you said, which made both of them chuckle.

"Don't let us keep you, then," the brother said. "And, again, thank you. You're my hero." Well, now you felt too touched for words.

Mumbling something incoherent but vaguely nice sounding, you shuffled off to one of the open balconies to eat your fingerfood in peace. Your position gave you a good look across the large ballroom, where Song was dazzling a group of people with an adoring shine in their eyes. 

She deserved it and considering the brief wink she threw your way, she was making sure to hog all the limelight to give you some peace and quiet. If Song ever wanted the world, you'd damn well fetch it for her.

Your gaze wandered and you nearly choked on a piece of food when you saw Madness of all people brazenly striding towards you.

"How?" you said when he leaned against the balcony railing at your side. "are you here?"

He tapped his temple. "People think I'm Doctor's uncle, they don't see me when they look at me."

...you really had to ask him about his powers in detail one of these days. Well, if he ever properly talked with you instead of going radio silent.

"The brother must know you're no uncle of theirs," you pointed out, instead of asking him why he was talking to you now when he hadn't reached out once since the prison breakout. Since bandaging your leg and putting your arm into a temporary sling.

"He knows who I am," Madness answered. "Doctor said I was the one they reached out to for help. They are hiding what they've been up to, though I think their brother is going to find out soon enough." 

Doctor's little jaunt into villainy was hard to ignore, that was true. You hummed in agreement and you half expected Madness to move on. That he had just come here to say hello and keep you from making a scene.

"Why come talk to me?" you asked when he just...remained. Quiet and steady at your side. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

Madness was silent for a long second, then he took a deep breath and straightened. His shoulders rolled back like he was ready to fight, but he didn't feel dangerous. You were still ready to toss your plate of fingerfood at him as a distraction.

"I tried to forget you," Madness said, his words surprising you enough that you paused. "I thought it was for the best. But I couldn't and when I saw you here today...well, I'm a villain. Taking every chance I can to get the things I want is what I do, isn't it?"

You stared at him, befuddled and you allowed him to, ever so gently, take the plate of food from your hands and put it onto the wide railing of the balcony beside you.

"If I overstep let me know and you'll never hear another word from me," he said and his fingertips brushed your hands, leaving warm tingles behind. "But if there is a chance you are interested in me the way I am in you..."

He trailed off, his pale eyes searching yours, hopeful and hesitant in a way you hadn't really seen him before. He was...he was actually showing vulnerability right now. It made you swallow.

"It would never work," you said, because that was the first thing that always came to your mind when you thought about kissing him or holding his hand. About reaching out to him. "We're on two opposite sides of the law. Maybe it's fun at first, but what afterwards? When we have to keep hiding things, have to clash out there in battle?"

Madness didn't brush you off, growing more serious instead, while the hope in his eyes sparked brighter. "You and I are going to retire one day," he said. "Maybe even soon, our lot rarely grows old in this field of work. And I would refrain from attacking you, no matter what."

"It would be hard to make this work," you pointed out, gesturing between you and him, but considering how his eyes sparked with a challenge accepted, that wasn't a problem. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't like heroes."

"I don't," he agreed easily. "But you're different." He tipped his head slightly to the side. "There is a dash of villain in you, isn't there?"

You could admit that he was right and maybe, there was sometimes a bit more than just a dash. You knew that if Song turned to villainy for some reason – it would be a good reason, knowing her – you'd ultimately end up following her.

"My morals are...flexible, sometimes," you admitted. There was a reason why Song was your anchor and compass, your lodestone. Why her light guided your way and you knew, if someone ever took her from you, you would not stop until that person was dead.

Madness smiled and you liked it. A lot. You liked the way he looked at you, as if you were something amazing. As if he never wanted to look away.

He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a beautiful bracelet. "Doctor made this for me, it blocks my powers." And, just like that, he held it out to you.

"Why trust me like this?" you couldn't help but ask and his answering, crooked smile had no right to be this charming and sweet.

"Because you never used a situation against me," he answered, with an earnest shine in his eyes that made you want to look away, your heart going all soft and vulnerable. "Not when the building collapsed and you had the upper hand, nor any time later when you could have just knocked me out with a touch."

"I don't even know your name," you said. 

When you didn't move to take the bracelet, he took your hand carefully, turning it palm up to press the cold metal against your skin, curling your fingers closed around it. Once you put this on, he wouldn't be able to use his powers against you, not even in defense should you decide to turn on him.

"Then I'll tell you," he said quietly, his free hand coming up, slowly enough for you to pull back. When you didn't, he cupped the side of your face, this thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "And anything else you want to know."

"We'll need as safeword," you blurted out, because this was already getting too important to mess up needlessly. "When we do encounter ourselves or just in general, to make this work." To not hurt each other by being heroes and villains.

"What do you propose?" he asked and you almost said tic-tac-toe, but that was kind of long, wasn't it? Before you could say something, his eye brightened with mirth. "How about checkers?"

You huffed. "I did have you beat in checkers."

He laughed, low and amused and very fond. You were fonder of him yourself than you liked to admit on your good days. "Keep telling yourself that, my villainous hero. Checkers it is. So, what do you say? Want to give me, us, a chance?"

You tightened your grip around the bracelet and leaned your cheek into his palm. His eyes darkened with want and something soft as you allowed him to cradle you. As you allowed him so close to your mind that he could ruin you, could destroy you forever, before you could ever hope to stop him.

"Touch civilians or Nightingale and I will end you," you said, a steel-solid promise uttered in a low, dangerous voice that made a darkly pleased grin appear on his face. He liked you sharp, he liked it when you showed that villainous streak that lurked below the surface. "Alright. Tell me your name, Madness, and then kiss me."

And so he did.

*.*.*

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[hypnoneghoul]

hypnone.

swissdew where dew is the biggest brat but then swiss wraps his hand around his neck and dew is DONE.

also maybe transdew????

here is a funny for your troubles

He’s been a pain in everyone’s ass for the last week. Nobody was surprised, but it was impossible to not get annoyed. Though… there was a thing that everyone apart from Dewdrop knew about. Not-so-silent agreement.

They all knew why he was acting like he was. Not willing to ask for what he wanted, ever, he preferred to be a little bitch until someone would snap. He always thought the one to finally get him was… random, so to say. How mistaken he was.

The other ghouls had a whole system for that, calling dibs and placing debts. They turned Dewdrop’s bratty horniness into a truly amusing game. He’d absolutely freak if he found out, but at the end of the day he wasn’t complaining about the results.

This time, it was Swiss’ turn.

“Can you not be so fucking loud?” Dewdrop growled at him from the common room’s couch. He spent most of the day laying on it and barking at everyone who happened to walk in, even if for just a second.  Now all Swiss has done was send a, not at all loud, voice message.

“Wouldn’t you like that, hm?” the multi ghoul scoffed. He could smell what he really wanted and he knew the moment was near.

“Shut up and leave me alone already.” Swiss sat on the edge of the couch and smirked down at Dewdrop. He looked pretty, as always, if only not the frown on his face.

“Nah. I don’t think that’s what you want,” he said matter-of-factly, adding fuel to the fire. Oh, how he loved doing that. “I think you want the exact opposite.”

“Fuck you,” Dewdrop spat, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning even harder. Swiss only rolled his eyes.

“The exact opposite once again,” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch his cheek. “Come on, kitten, you know I’ll give you what you want.”

The fire ghoul snapped his teeth, managing to nick Swiss’ finger with a fang. He growled and rolled off the back of the couch and straight onto Dewdrop. He huffed at the impact, immediately starting to squirm.

Swiss felt it, though.

His thigh had just landed between Dewdrop’s own and there were many layers of fabric between them, but he already felt wetness. How ‘leave me alone’ of the fire ghoul.

He kept squirming and snarling pathetically as Swiss grinned down at him. They both knew that even despite their size difference, Dewdrop wasn’t helpless. He was still a ghoul, a strong creature. He could throw Swiss off if he really wanted to.

But he didn’t.

“You little shit,” the multi ghoul laughed, looking at the small trickle of blood trailing down his hand. “You made me fucking bleed.”

“I told you to go fuck yourself!”

“I think you’d rather I fucked you, hm, kitten?” Swiss’ eyes went darker and his voice dropped lower as he flexed his hand. Dewdrop always loved how big his hands were.

The fire ghoul opened his mouth to—presumably—say something particularly smart again, but before he could do so, Swiss moved his hand to his throat and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing lightly. Dewdrop’s eyes went wide and Swiss could laugh at how all the fight and bite left him at once. “So fucking easy.”

He swallowed thickly and whined like a hurt little kitten, blushing fiery red.

“Knew it,” Swiss purred. “Now, it’s nearly the  time to fuck some sense back into you.”

“N– nearly?”

“You’ve got my thigh for now. I can feel how wet your pretty pussy is,” he tensed his leg and pressed it down for emphasis, pulling a pretty moan from Dewdrop. “Get to work and if you behave I’ll stuff you full of my cock.”

Dewdrop whined again and squeezed his eyes shut as Swiss squeezed his neck. His hips twitched under the multi ghoul’s weight and he chuckled. Victorious. Dewdrop worked as best as he could in his current predicament, biting his lower lip, shying away from the burning eyes staring down at him. That was all Swiss could do; stare and feel his cock tingling in his pants.

It was a truly convincing argument.

It didn’t take long for the fire ghoul’s whines and whimpers to get more desperate. How could it, after he was working himself up for a week straight?

A little ‘please’ escaped his lips and Swiss squeezed the hand around his throat once again. “Come on, kitten. I promised you something, didn’t I? Cum for me and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget everything but my name.”

[shroomyifiy]

I'm back at it again boys, and it hasn't even been 24 hours yet

Hi, I’m back already to yap some more about Ace!Culprit because we need some more balance /jkjk

Disclaimer: I am NOT trying to attack any of the Eden!Culprit truthers out there, y’all might be right and she is cooked. And to the Ace fans, I’m sorry, I like him a lot, but someone gotta die here. My fav is already dead, I have no horse in this race (haha, get it?)

Let’s all be respectful here, okay? :)

Okay, let’s get into me rambling about more Thoughts™

Part 1: tape

Did I mention that I hate the tape so much? Like, it’s a very good idea! Having something go missing on screen so fast that pins down the killer? Yes!

But then we get to the two suspects and it’s just like, why? Why would either of them take it? What’s the point?

That, to me at least, is why it’s hard to believe either of them did it for most of the fans. 

One of the things brought up to me is about why (if Ace did take the tape) is it not covered in blood.

Great question! I have a few thoughts on this I wasn’t able to fully address in my reply originally.

Now, whether Ace holds onto the tape and pockets it when he leaves the room or if he immediately shoves it in his pocket doesn’t matter (right now anyways), his hands are already bloody before he touches his neck. Some blood should have gotten on it. But! I might be able to counter this!

#1: Washed/Wiped; The killer wiped the blood off the tape using a wet piece of fabric. Grip tape is able to be wet (although typically would lose adhesion over time after getting wet multiple times). Which I admit, it is a weird point to make. But I want to cover all possible routes.

#2: Blood; Okay, weird tangent time. But um, most of the blood would have been on the outermost layer of the tape. And maybe some on the sides, but whatever was underneath that bloody pieces wouldn’t be fully stained, and the outside edges could be hidden, since it doesn’t appear anyone removed the pieces of tape. And the tape is a darker color, which would likely hide dried blood further. It’s not like, say, toilet paper- where if you bleed over it a lot, it’ll stain further down the roll. It’s a much thicker material, and it’s been compared to sandpaper. I really don’t think it would stain the whole roll of tape, not by much. Trust me on this one.

Also! We have not seen the roll of tape! And we haven’t gotten a fully clear look at the tape used in the crime! It is possible for there to be missed blood because no one was looking for it. Remember, not all evidence comes from just the investigation. We’ve been shown this before. And it wouldn’t surprise me if someone noticed and didn’t mention it atp.

Now! Onto something else

Part 2: Shroomy had a silly thought about Eden being the culprit

So, I have drdt brainrot, which causes me to think about it a lot. And during one of those thoughts, as I was thinking about this case again and different ideas and theories, I came to a rather odd point.

One of the main points for Eden having taken the tape is her tool belt pockets, where she could have easily stored it and not have it been seen by Teruko. And a common counterargument against Eden being the killer is her helping put the note back together.

So that got me thinking.

Why would Eden rip the note up and throw it away, knowing it frames her as the killer? And, why not hide it inside one of those pouches on her tool belt?

Like no, seriously, why? Like, she could have just put it in there, and no one would have suspected anything. In fact, it would make her less suspicious! And sure, Min got caught hiding evidence on herself, but I doubt they would think that. Min got caught with the pen because they knew she had one and that was crucial evidence for the fake out of order sign. There’s no reason anyone would think Eden would have a note on her.

If Eden really does want to get away with it, and if she really did pocket the tape in one of those pouches, I really need an explanation as to why she didn’t hide it there until she could get rid of it somewhere else or something.

She saw what happened to Teruko during the last trial. She would know everyone would immediately start jumping on her as the killer. Why frame herself? For what? To play 4D chess on everyone? Teruko flat out said that subtle manipulation would be lost on everyone.

Also, this might be a stretch, but doesn’t ripping a note up into hundreds of pieces fit more into Ace’s nature than Eden? Food for thought.

And that’s not getting into something I feel like needs to be addressed- hold up, let’s switch sections

Part 3: “A good person”

Hi guys. I know we all know about the secret message on the chapter title card reading “a good person”.

I know we all know about how being a good person is one of the major themes of this chapter, and probably the fangan as a whole.

I know we’ve gone through so many heel turns this chapter.

BUT!

Eden doesn’t have to be the killer to not be as pure as everyone thinks. She doesn’t have to make a heel turn like everyone else. In fact, that would be what? The like what, 4th one this chapter/trial???

I think we get it by now, not everyone is what they seem. Just because she’s one of the only ones to not be either breaking down, having a heel turn, or being Whit (always sus), doesn’t mean she also needs to. In fact, I feel like if she was the killer, it’d just be repeating things that ALREADY HAPPENED IN THIS VERY TRIAL!!!!!

Like, she would either be exactly like Min or pulling a David. Which would diminish her character. Like, “oh no, this really nice and positive character is actually evil!!! And murdered someone who trusted her and wanted to be better!!! Oh what a shock!!!!”

It feels repetitive.

Now, I’m fine with the idea of Eden becoming a murderer down the line. I mean, she (probably) took out Xander’s eye before the killing game. We already know Eden isn’t perfect, because no one is. That was the lesson of the chapter. But Eden being Arei’s killer just doesn’t feel right.

And not to go on a rant about parallels and thematics like the theater kid I am, AGAIN, but come on guys, you don’t spend the whole chapter of Teruko distrusting everyone and having the most trusting person trying to get her to open up several times and directly call out the Min-Eden parallels in game to just,,, do it all over again.

You don’t have David say “I want you to distrust everyone” for her to be proven that she shouldn’t trust anyone. I swear I’m not delusional here guys, I swear.

And like, really, how much longer CAN they drag out the Nico-Ace thing? Because this episode has clearly set up Nicorose and Nicohu divorce arcs, and gave us some sort of resolution for Ace-Nico. Nico regrets it, but can’t apologize because they don’t like Ace at all.

And yes Acevi had their divorce, but I doubt that could go much of anywhere. They had a falling out at the last trial, mind you, and it affected this chapter a lot. It would be interesting to see, and as much as I would love Ace to be like the little cockroach that survives somehow, I don’t see it happening. Something something, repeating plotlines.

And like guys my Teruko-Ace and Ace-Arei parallels!!! I love them all so much I want to shake them around in a jar!!!! /pos

God I love these characters. I will spare you the longer rant about that, for now (if you would like to hear more about that, lmk). We will move on for now.

Part 4: Chapter 2 Syndrome and THH

Okay, I’ve seen some people compare this chapter to the second case of thh, which I think is a much more fair and valid argument, because the series does take place in the same universe as the events of it, and chapter 1 had its own similarities to case 1.

But, let’s determine what exact the themes are with these two cases.

Obviously, drdt chapter 2 is about what it means to be a good person. I think we agreed on that.

Thh chapter 2 has themes about strength (mental vs physical; strong vs weak) and toxic masculinity. We will be discounting the second one as it’s not as relevant as the theme of strength.

Chihiro had more mental strength than Mondo, and wanted to change. Mondo had more physical strength, and was held back by his lack of mental strength, causing him to lash out in the heat of the moment and commit a murder.

There are some comparisons you could make (confirmed murderer, antag being fucked up, secrets motive, victim being suspended), and I am not denying that. Actually, I have my own thoughts about how thh plays into drdt in its own way.

But I want to point out and talk about the victim and the two suspects fit into this.

Obviously, this is a lot of reaching.

Eden and Arei: Mondo betrayed Chihiro’s trust and killed them, which would fit with Arei and Eden. Which, yes, is fair, but everyone who kills is betraying someone's trust. And while there would be a fair comparison between the two, Eden isn’t the only one.

Ace and Arei: Mental and physical strength! Arei had the mental strength to try and change, and it was working towards her goal of being a less shitty person. While Ace was going through hell and back mentally and nearly died and who no one liked. Two athletes, something defined by strength.

It could go either way, or just flat out ignore it altogether. Either way, I wanted to point it out.

Can you tell I love themes and narrative yet? They’re so silly !>-<!

Part 5: Wrap up time

God I am going to lose it in the wait until Friday. Biting the bars on my enclosure frfr.

Okay, I am actually going to (hopefully) not end up writing another thesis on Ace!Culprit after this one, okay? Hopefully? I need to like, actually talk about something else for a hot minute lmao.

Also I forgot to mention this last time, but currently Eden doesn’t have a way to obtain the fish as far as I’m aware, while Ace does, so y'know. More points to him.

Okay, that’s the last of it I swear! (unless 4k character parallel analysis on like half the cast if anyone wants to see that)

Might talk about Charles and Whit (and how oh they aren’t making it out of chapter 3 together I swear) or Mai Akasaki (and all of the nonsense surrounding her ass) next, idk, we see how I feel and how motivated I am lolz

Anyways, see you next time! Remember to stay kind to everyone else, even if you disagree with them, and remember guys, that’s just a theory, A DESPAIR TIME THEORY!

Thanks for reading! ^_^

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley siblings reacting to you self harming

Trigger Warning out the wazu for this. Self Harm/Suicidal Ideations/Grief/Trauma/Abuse/Vent/Its gonna be a heavy one. It’s under the cut, so you don’t have to see it. Stay safe, you are loved, and I’m here for you. Sending you hugs

William ‘Bill’

To say he didn’t have a few would be a lie. He never actively does it, he just has a job that forces you into a very dark mental space sometimes. It’s the burden to a curse breaker. Sure didn’t help when he was attacked either. Don’t get him started on being the eldest sibling to six siblings. This means he’s often very vocal about mental health. Taking vacations to focus on it, and even being very active with therapy. So when he learns you have such tendencies, it breaks his heart. It hurts to know you feel such pain, and he will try and help any way he can. He would never shame you. He understands you don’t do it because you want to. The brain is just trying so hard to process something so complex. He will make sure your wounds are clean, and they don’t get infected. He would listen to whatever is burdening you, and hold you tightly. He’s going to help you through this. He understands that it’s not an easy fix. That maybe it can never be fixed. But that won’t stop him from trying to help. You won’t be trapped in the darkness alone. Your service werewolf will be there to scare off the rain clouds.

Charlie

He’s caught by surprised, but self harm isn’t just cutting. He’s learned that. He’s often throwing himself into very dangerous situations. Self harm just means you are self destructive. He’s very much so, but no one ever says anything because he’s a man. And men just do stupid things. So he can understand people not taking your problems seriously. It’s a rather delicate subject, and he will go to Bill for advice. Since he’s the guy who has to have good mental health. Maybe that can help him to. You two can help each other. He can help you when your thoughts get too dark, and you can make sure he actually thinks through his actions. You both can be each other’s rocks. Keep each other grounded, when things get too much. To make sure that there is someone waiting for you on the other side. The dark moments are scary, but he’s always ready to carry a torch to find you in it.

Percy

He’s stunned. He never thought you would do that, and that’s when it dawns on him that he thought like that about his older brothers. He never thought they could do such a thing, but yet they have. Even George. That is his wake up call. He’s finally putting down the books, and learning there is more to life than just climbing the corporate ladder. The most important people in his life were in so much pain, and they just remain so silent on it. Afraid of what others think. He can’t help but wonder if he’s even pushed his siblings to such. It shatters him. He tries his best to be a more open person now. To be there for you more, and learn to try and keep work at the office. That the moment he gets home, he’s off the clock. He can’t keep pushing people away anymore. It’s tearing people apart. You included. He has a lot of growing to do, but he’s trying. He’s trying to be better, and that helps shine some hope in your darkness. He may not understand it, but he knows what you are dealing with is real. There’s hope in your rain clouds again.

Fred

As an owner to a joke shop, you see a lot of class clowns coming inside to cope. He himself was no exception. Molly was doing her best, but all that yelling and degrading is going to get to you. Especially in such a big family of seven siblings. Things will happen. He never cut himself, but he’s definitely done stupid things he knew could kill him. He just did them anyway, in his darker moments. Seeing a win/win scenario. He thought those were normal, since George had them to. So he doesn’t get started when he learns. When you explain to him it’s not normal, it’s now a whole other story. It’s a lot to take in, but he’s a Weasley. He’s going to handle it. He’s a big brother. He has to, and that’s when you help him understand that he can be softer to. You both find comfort in each other. You are able to let him be vulnerable. And knowing he knows your pain gives you a morbid feeling a calm. That even people like him can feel this way too. It’s a long road ahead, but he’s going to keep trying to make you smile. No matter what

George

He’s made attempts to his life. More than once. Even at The Battle Of Hogwarts, he tried to. Once the shock of Fred’s death faded, he had to be held back from joining him. He’s tried so hard to keep going, but his soul is broken beyond repair. He’s cut himself, drank, anything to deal with the pain. How he’s still alive, he doesn’t know. He calls it a curse, but you suspect that Fred is the one who makes sure every attempt fails. That the rope always snaps, that whatever he drinks is the wrong bottle, that even his own wand back fires. Fred won’t let his baby brother die, and neither will you. There’s a morbid joy to the fact you are in a similar state. You are able to use what you know to help him process. To show him that it’s going to be ok. In a weird way, it’s healing to you. You are able to be the voice to someone else’s darkness. To guide them out of it. You are able to do the thing you wished people did for you. And George does. You will hold on to each other, and remind each other it’ll be ok. That George is allowed to scream and cry. That he’s allowed to be sad, and not happy all the time. You will clean his wounds, as he cleans yours. You’ll be ok. You’ll both be ok.

Ron

Harry has done the same, given the Dursleys. It was scary for him, to see an eleven year old with such a thing. But it helped him with his empathy and sympathy. He would go to Harry for advice, when he learns you do the same. Wanting to make sure he says the right things, and do what helps you the most. Soon you would not only have Ron helping you, but Hermione and Harry as well. At first, you were pissed that Ron told other people. But it quickly faded, because you knew he was just trying to help. The fact he was trying to help, compared to keeping it quiet, does comfort you. He didn’t brush it under the rug. There was a problem, and he went to go get help the second he could. You weren’t left behind. You would be ok. He was on top of it, and you cried because of it. The good cry. A cry you didn’t know you needed. Not only did you have Ron, you had Harry and Hermione as well. With their own scars, and stories, and warm arms to hug you close. You won’t face the darkness alone. You had a bundle of friends to save you. They would save you every time, and it gave you the strength to face that darkness. You won’t be alone. Not anymore

Ginny

She lost track how many people, during her sixth year at Hogwarts, did she see do such. Even taking their own lives, given what was happening at the time. She even has a few of her own, given her history with the diary. Every time she feels herself get to angry, she does it. Something in the back of her head tells her to do it. As if a part of Tom Riddle was still inside of her. Wanting to break free. What scared her the most was that feeling didn’t go away when Voldemort died. Knowing you have those dark thoughts makes her feel like there was some kind of red string of fate. That her trauma lead to something useful. That the fact she stayed so strong was to help others. She is able to help you with what she knows. Show her that even a kind and sweet girl like her can feel those morbid feelings. You two would hold each other, whenever those feelings got rough. Finding alternatives, like working out and doing what you can to handle it. It’s scary, but she is quick to drag you into her family. To have this massive audience to help you grow. You aren’t in the darkness. You are here with this bright red light, and she’s going to fist fight those evil thoughts away. She swears to you, and you know she will keep her promise. Weasleys always do