#Regardless me having nearly black hair and green eyes

[rubberduckyrye]

@kindlyre

Okay so to preface this: I am VERY Italian and my hair is a natural texture of 3A-3B due to the fact I am Italian. Your mileage will vary greatly depending on your hair texture!

Second of all while trying to find the product I actually realized it IS a hairspray. Or it's labeled as one. Oops! But it's not the kind of hair spray that makes you gag or stiffens your hair I don't think? Still!

Anyway So when I say my hair is at "max curls" I mean that normally, I don't take very good of my hair, so it's usually a wavy texture, and I thought I had wavy hair with maybe one big banana curls until I learned that like. Normal shampoo is not a one hair texture fits all, actually. In fact there were hair products designed for curly hair!

So I started using SheaMoisture products.

I use the really intense hydration line because I don't take the best care of my hair, so it picks up the slack for me. The Hold and Shine mist/hairspray is what I was talking about tho. I've only used it twice and both times it's held my "curly hair is wet and curlier now than when it dries" curls without that awful crunch texture so I'm digging it!

But like, these products aren't making my hair curlier, they're bringing out the natural curls I never knew I had and holding them. So I'm sorry if this is a bummer but if you suspect that your hair might actually be hiding some curls I would give this brand a shot!

[socksdoeswrites]

hello!!!! Izuku x foreigner!reader? Maybe shes on vacation or a temporary foreign exchange student for a semester? Anyways, I love the trope of cultural confusions, like immediately calling Izuku, ‘Izuku’ upon meeting him, which of course makes him flustered and stuff like that! If it’s not something you’re interested in writing all good, thank you regardless!! :)

an: hi! of course im interested in writing this for you! if it’s something you’d like to see im more than happy to do it for you! i just hope it is up to your standards!! i did a one shot if thats alright, but if you would like a longer story, just let me know!! i absolutely love this trope as well! to be completely honest, i love tropes that aren’t all the way dramatic! some calm and collected things are nice every once in a while:). but anyyyyyway, i hope you all enjoy!!!

parings: izuku midoryia x foreigner! female! reader

tags/warnings: foreigner! female! reader, pure rotten fluff

i had such a fun time writing this! i hope you enjoy it really!!!

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you had been in japan for sometime, and just recently got out and about. you had decided to come by yourself on a small vacation proving that you could do things on your own! needless to say, it was stressful. you had no idea where you were going, and nearly tripped and tumbled over everything. about to give up thinking you were a loss cause, is when you met izuku.

he was super understanding, and decided to help you as much as he could! you had never been more grateful. once you had settled into the place you were staying, you decided to ask for his number. to keep in touch! you didn’t know how long you were going to be here, and it’d be nice to have someone that was familiar with the place.

he politely accepted, moving his slender fingers along the key pad. saying his goodbyes, you looked down seeing his contact name.

‘izuku midoriya.’

you couldn’t help but smile. despite only meeting him today, you knew you two would hit it off. the conversations flowed easily after that. yet you immediately fell asleep the first day you got there.

that leads you here! getting ready for a small get together with izuku and his friends. you hated to admit it, but you were most definitely nervous. you re-read the message he had sent you one last time.

‘dress casual:).’

the idea was to get some food, maybe a dessert, than apparently a firework show was going on later that night. trying to bite back your smile, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror. completely ignoring the mess on your bed from your suitcase. that was a problem for future y/n.

your nerves didn’t settle. especially when the frantic knock was heard on your door. grabbing your bag, you opened it.

greeted with the same green haired man you had spoken to for some time, a smaller girl with a somewhat bob, a taller figure with red/white hair, and finally a slender woman with a black ponytail. they all greeted you warmly introducing themselves accordingly.

ochaco uraraka.

shoto todoroki.

momo yaoyorozu.

they all had unique names, you had to admit.

the evening carried on perfectly. everyone seemed to be extremely happy and relaxed around you. they told you about the city they were from, showing you the famous sights, showing you their favorite foods, and even where they had all went to high school. to say you were star struck was an understatement. feeling somewhat envious of where they were from.

as you leaned against the railing over a body of water, you couldn’t help but sigh as the wind blew your hair. the others getting ice cream, or so you thought. you felt a small tap on your shoulder.

“how’re you liking it?”

you were met by a pair of enchanting green eyes. you couldn’t help but smile.

“it’s gorgeous here. you guys are extremely lucky to live here.”

you seemed a little melloncollie, to which he leaned on the railings beside you.

“i’m sure it’s beautiful where you’re from.”

he smiled at you, bumping your shoulder softly. he seemed to have a playful demeanor about him. you scoffed jokingly, slapping his shoulder.

“thank you, izuku. i appreciate you for, y’know, showing me everything.”

you would’ve thought you hit him straight in the gut from the way he reacted. he began coughing, his eyes blowing wide, and cheeks flushing a bright red color.

“h-huh?!”

you patted his shoulder.

“did-did I say something wrong?”

thinking the worst case scenario. that’s all the flooded your mind. he shook his head, cheeks still red from what seemed to be embarrassment.

“n-no! you didn’t do anything wrong! i just, didn’t expect you to say my first name.”

you cocked a brow, slightly confused.

“was i… not supposed to..?”

izuku laughed. a boyish sound, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“no, no it’s okay. really.”

you didn’t have time to question him anymore, before the rest of your group surrounded the two of you, and as soon as the fireworks started your eyes faltered on the gloomy sky, only for it to be lit up with different colors. the crowds went wild, but you? you were content. comfortable. safe. you felt even safer when your head rested on izukus broad shoulder. maybe this little trip was worth it after all.

[oneforthemunny]

I'd imagine that every time Halloween rolls around, Rockstar!Eddie and Nepo Baby are on the cover of at least one magazine with a spooky Halloween photoshoot. I'm seeing a werewolf eating (out) a fair maiden. Or a pregnant Nepo Baby tied to a table and a Rockstar!Eddie getting ready to sacrifice her. Or them recreating a scene from the biggest horror movie of the year.

Only over the years, as the kids accumulate, it goes from Playboy to Parade. And instead of tits with fang punctures, you've got a line of tots in skeleton pajamas.

(This was originally meant to be a blurb prompt and I got carried away so now I think it's more just a Spooky Thought I had to share with you. Whatever, Happy First Day of Fall! 😂)

oneforthemunny's spooky stories: rockstar!eddie x reader's time warp

or how halloween looks through the years for rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader :) ps pics below are for inspo that i used not specific more of just how the photos looked or what the idea was based off of!

October 31st, 1992

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, dimples and shining eyes when they rolled over your frame. “My bride.” 

That you were, both in and out of costume. It was the only recognizable part of yourself right now, your engagement ring. Your skin had been tinged a pale green, the SFX artist made your ‘gashes’ and ‘stitches’ look far too real for your liking. Tonight, you were the bride of Frankenstein, instead of Munson. 

“Look at you.” You pouted, eyes rolling over his costume. Not Frankenstein, but… a vampire? “What-What are you wearing?” You huff, throwing an arm out at his costume. “We’re supposed to be Frankenstein and-” 

“-Technically, it’s Frankenstein’s monster.” Eddie grinned, fake fangs making his smile more sinister looking. “I had a last minute change. Dracula and Bride of Frankenstein together? That’s scandalous. So much better, baby, believe me. No one’s done this before.” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the torn white dress to cover yourself. “When did you change your mind? While I was in makeup for six hours?” 

Eddie laughed, hands running down your skin. “I like your hair.” He muttered. “Think you should do this more often. Pretty metal look for you, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, running a hand lightly over the electrified updo. “Too bad it’s a wig. Maybe I’ll keep it. Put it in the dungeon for you, when you want to get really weird and freaky.” 

“I always wanna get really weird and freaky with you.” Eddie growled, a low rasp in his tone that had your knees shaking. His lips ducked down towards yours, the fake blood around his mouth making your stomach turn. 

“No,” You shake your head. “Get these pictures first, then you can kiss me. I’m not sitting in makeup again, Munson, my ass was falling asleep. I was sitting there for so long.” 

“I can help you with that.” Eddie growled, a playful smack to your barely covered backside that had you shrilling, glaring at him through white contacts. 

October 31st, 1993

“You can barely even see the bump.” You huff, cradling your bare stomach in the mirror. “It just looks like I’m bloated.” 

“You’re out of your mind.” Eddie shook his head, inked hands cradling your torso. “You look so pretty.” 

Your lips settle in a pout, turning to the side, pushing your stomach out further in the pink, frilly lingerie from the 60’s. The sheer robe tied at your collarbones, flowing over your frame beautifully, parting so your belly could poke out. It wasn’t the pregnancy announcement you expected to have, but a fun one, regardless. One that would leave a shocking impression when it was sent to the press. 

Eddie’s ‘costume’ hung around his waist, arms crossed over his bare, tattooed chest. You grinned at the green, scaly suit- designed to subtly resemble Creature From The Black Lagoon’s monster. 

You smirked to yourself, looking at Eddie through the mirror. “My parents are going to hate this.” You grin, nearly proud. It made Eddie’s heart skip. 

“Good.” Eddie snorted with an eye roll. “Not their baby. Not their choice.” He shrugged, hands roaming protectively over your soft, stretched skin. “Victor shouldn’t hate it too much, right? It’s a movie reference, at least.” 

You laughed lightly. “True, and I’m… more covered than last time, right?” You grin, smoothing your hand over your exposed skin. 

“Definitely, much more reserved than last time.” Eddie grinned, chin hooking over your shoulder. “We have to be more appropriate, Button, now that we’re going to be parents.” Eddie mocked your father’s posh, droning tone, quoting what Victor nagged about over the last brunch you had together- a month ago when you told them you were expecting. 

Eddie’s lips pursed at the pinch still unfaltering in your brows, hands still smoothing over your belly. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie rasped, hand cradling your jaw gently, pulling your eyes to meet his. Those soft eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time you found yourself in their gaze. 

“Fuck ‘em, alright? This isn’t their baby, it’s our baby.” Eddie muttered. “You wanna do this? We don’t have to. I’ll tell them all to go fuck off if you want me to. Or we can do something different. Do the Mummy things if you want to. Just say the word. Your call-” 

“Ed.” The smile he’d been looking for graced your face finally. “I still want to do the photos. I’m just… I’m having a moment. I’m hormonal, and-and I’m just having a moment.” 

Eddie grinned, plush lips pressing a kiss to your nose. “Have a moment. You look hot, though.” 

“Thanks.” You muttered, eyes fluttering to look up at him through the strip of false lashes. “Not bloated?” 

Eddie snorted. “Definitely not. Very pregnant. Very, very hot.” 

October 31st, 1994 

“Ed, is she looking?” You say through a smile, eyes still trained on the camera. 

“No, she keeps looking at you.” Eddie huffed, lowering the camera. “Looking at your webs.” 

No crew this time, oh no, Eddie wanted to do it all on his own. The set up wasn’t elaborate, but your costume was. The Black Widow, finished with webs that attached to your dress, hung around you for the perfect dramatic effect Eddie was looking for. In your arms, your little itsy bitsy spider, Persephone. 

“Sephy,” Eddie cooed. “Fuck, babe, where’s the rattle thing? The lamb?” 

“I grabbed it. Look behind you.” You nodded, cradling Persephone closely, her little hands reaching for you and pulling the fake spider arms with her. “You’re just a pretty little spider, aren’t you? The cutest little spider!” 

“Found it!” The camera bounced on Eddie’s chest, shooting you a dimpled grin that had you flushing. “Look at me, Sephy! Look at Daddy!” 

You fixed her in your arms, cradling her to your side. “Is she looking?” 

“Yes, she is!” Eddie lilted in that babbling baby talk that had your heart swelling. “Look at my little spider. That’s so good, look at Daddy!” 

“You sure you don’t want to be in this one?” You asked, hoisting Sephy up higher into your arms, swaying her lightly. 

“Nah,” Eddie shook his head, looking down at the camera, pulling out the film. “Just wanna look at you, baby.” He winked. 

October 31st, 1999

“Kensie,” You coo, looking down at the red faced four year old, desperately trying to keep her from tearing off her ears, two fuzzy clips that mimicked a cute werewolf. “We just need to take a couple of photos, and then we can change and go Trick-or-Treating, I promise.” 

“I wanna go no-o-ow!” Kensie wailed, a piercing sob that had you cringing, the twins stirring in their black bassinet prop. 

“Kensington,” Eddie grit, adjusting Persephone’s cape. “Trick-or-Treating hasn’t even started. There’s nothing out there right now. No candy.” 

You glared at him lightly, though Kensie’s sniffles did ease. “No?” She asked, head tilting to the side sweetly. 

Eddie shook his head, green painted frown softening lightly. “No, baby. Doesn’t start until six. We have plenty of time.” 

“Better quit frowning, baby.” You hum, tapping your finger on Eddie’s creasing forehead paint. 

This year's theme was a take on the classic, creepy show from the 60’s. What better way to celebrate your still growing family than this? Everyone else was favoring the Addams Family this year, but not the Munson’s- Munster’s. 

“Are you ready, Mrs. Munson?” Phil asked, looking up from his camera at you. 

You nodded, fixing your dress while you stood next to Eddie, one hand on the bassinet. “You think they can tell?” You grit through your smile, your dress snug when you turn towards him. 

“No.” Eddie gritted back, eyes flickering down to your abdomen, just starting to swell with baby number five. “You look good, baby, always do.”

[rs-hawk]

MerMay Day Four:

Lamia

MerMay List from The Sleeping Fox on Instagram

Gen!Sapphic Reader x Gen!Lamia

You had heard rumors of the giant water snake that had begun to stalk and hunt in the river int he next town over. It fascinated you, knowing that there was such a large, dangerous creature so close to where you lived. If it had half a mind to, it could find its way into your yard. Your home.

A shiver slid down your spine at the idea of it slithering into your bed and waking up to it squeezing the life out of you. That would be such a terrifying way to die. Would it eat you? Would anyone even find you? Or would they have to guess what happened to you, and whether you were alive or dead?

Regardless, knowing that the possibility of death increased when you actually went into the lair of the beast, you went to the river. The sun was high in the sky, casting dappled light on the forest floor with the light that shun through the trees. The warmth kisses your skin, reddening it in the spots that were exposed. After what felt like days but was only a few hours, you broke through the treeline.

Just as you stumbled from the trees, you saw a splash and a scaley tail disappearing under the slow moving water. You had expected to see a large snake based off of the rumors you had heard, but you didn't expect to see something so absolutely massive.

Fear should have made you hesitate, but it didn't. Curiosity overcame you. You crept closer to the water's edge. For a moment, you saw nothing, then, you leaned closer. A face appeared just under the water. Reeling back, your breath caught. Your eyes widened.

"Hello," she purred as her face broke the water's surface.

Her long black hair clung to her shoulders and back before it pooled back into the water. Floating around her. "Hello," you responded, stunned.

Her slitted green eyes scanned over your body with a gaze that could only be described as predatory. Every hair on your body was standing on edge. When she smiled at you, two long fangs hung lower in her mouth. All you could think of was how dangerous those must be, and yet, it didn't scare you.

"Most would have run by now," she chuckled.

"Probably," you agreed, still rooted to the spot where you had fell when you reeled back.

"But not you," she hummed, moving closer to the river bank, her lips drawing further across her lips, showing her lower fangs now when she spoke. "You stand there as though a monster isn't close enough to reach out and grab you."

Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. "Are you going to grab me?"

She hummed again, her nearly black tail, such a dark brown, moving slightly behind her in the current as her arms folded on the bank kept her grounded. "Should I?"

"Why would you?" you asked.

The sound that escaped her lips was something between a laugh and a hiss. As that sound filled the air, she pulled herself fully onto the bank, her scales glistening in the bright sunlight. It made her even more stunning. Her long, slender fingers reached out for you, and you let her. Her fingers were so cool, as if they were the same temperature as the river's water.

As soon as her fingers curled around your wrist, she slithered closer, her long forked tongue darting out to taste the air. To taste you. And again, you let her.

"I suppose there's a few reasons I could think of, and right now, the main reason is because you are so very warm," her voice coiled around you as her tail began to wrap around your waist. "Much better than a mere sunning rock."

"I suppose," you started, copying her. "That I could warm you up. At least today."

"if you do too good of a job, I doubt that I will be satisfied with one day," she purred, her body tightening around you, drawing you closer to her. "It has been a long time since I have had something so warm as you to call my own."

As she spoke, you found yourself all by hypnotized. Of their own accord, your hands moved to hold her hips, where her human form merged with her scales and tail. That predatory smile returned to her lips. She guided your hands up, groping her chest. You felt goosebumps spring on her human skin. Wherever your fingers trailed, the goosebumps followed. A low hum buzzing in her throat.

Her tail curled more around you, pulling your body tightly against hers. Even as the sun began to dip below the horizon, she seemed content to keep wrapped around you. The river water having long since dried from her scales and hair. Her hair, no longer weighed down by the water, fell in waves down her back. Despite knowing that she could easily crush you to death, or likely swallow you whole, you don't fight back or even try to get away. Not that you could, even if you did try.

"Come back tomorrow," she said, her tongue flicking out to taste your neck. "Little heater."

Without hesitation, you nodded. As if in a trance, when she let you go, you walked to the forest and made a small camp. Even if it was early enough for you to try to make your way back, the idea wasn't tempting. It hardly even occurred to you. You'd be too far away from the river, and now, the idea of being away from her literally couldn't even cross your mind.

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[kawaiigirly21]

Alien Heart:Chapter 1

“Go, my child! Go and don't look back, you hear me?! Don't look back!!” Those were the last words Nat'asha's father spoke to her before sending her to an escape pod he constructed for a grave emergency. “Father…Wait please! Let me fight with you! Father! Father!!” The very last look she received from her father was one of fear and pure love as he hit the launch button which catapulted her off of her home planet.

“Father! Father!! DADDY!! I wanna go back! I have to go back… I-i have to…” Natasha wasn't sure how long she sobbed and wailed for her father, but she assumed it was long enough for her to reach earth's orbit. Bracing for impact, she held onto a part of the pod as it crashed into the earth. “..... Ow!!”

That was 5 years ago, now she was hiding among humans in what she considered a brilliant disguise and staying with the kindest human family who accepted her as a martian. They in fact encouraged her to be her true self while indoors. They even started wearing more green to try and make her more comfortable and soothe her homesickness.

“Happy birthday Nat'asha!!” Andre, the father smiled as he presented her with a beautifully wrapped box. “The big 22! How do you feel?!” Tanisha, the mother asked as she handed the young martian woman a smaller box that had the pandora logo. “I feel the same… but nonetheless grateful as always for you. My family.”

Andre and Tanisha were black scientists who were obsessed with the thought of alien life since they met. Their main assignment at Nasa was to search for life on what was once thought to be uninhabitable planets. The night they found Nat’asha’s pod, their passion for all things space grew. As well as their family.

“You should hurry downstairs. Jamal has a surprise for you. He worked really hard on it.” Andre smiled as he and Tanisha left the room. “Happy birthday, our little martian.” After completing her morning routine, Nat’asha opened her gifts. Andre had gifted her 3 books from her favorite book series whilst Tanisha gifted her a charm bracelet. Each charm was a planet crafted by jewels. “Nat’asha! Come on!” Jamal yelled as he began to get impatient waiting for his older adopted sister.

Phasing through the floor, Natasha landed in her chair. Now wearing the bracelet and clutching one of her new books. “I made you breakfast!!” The martian smiled and hugged her brother after he sat her plate in front of her. “What are your plans for today sweetheart?” Andre asked. “Probably sending in my Justice League application, then patrol.” Jamal’s eyes lit up.

“Oh yea!! You’re gonna be in the Justice League!!” Nat’asha smiled and kisses his forehead. “It’s just an application. They might not even take me.” Later that day, after sending in her application, Nat’asha used her human disguise to go out on patrol. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being a martian, quite the opposite really, it was more of the fact she wasn’t sure howd humans would react to having more than one on planet earth.

The already famous J’onn J’onzz had made quite the name for himself as the Martian Manhunter. He was strong, resilient and according to martian standards, an absolute HUNK. The man was just soooo sexy in her opinion. “Are you Natasha?” A man asked as he walked up to her. He had red hair and freckles along with a charming boyish smile. However, regardless of how cute he was, it was a bit alarming that he knew her name.

Taking a sip from her carmel crunch latte, Nat’asha looked the man up and down. “Who’s asking pretty boy?” The man smiled wider and handed her a business card. “We’ve seen your work. Would love to have you on the team.” looking down at the card, she nearly spit out her coffee. The Justice League. They wanted her to join! They were offering a position! Talk about the most amazing birthday present ever!

“What do you say? If its a yes, follow me. Its important you get acquainted with the team sooner than later cutie.” Choosing to ignore the obvious flirt, Nat’asha followed the man to a park before he spoke into an earpiece. “Alright bats, Beam us up!”

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Title: Firsts Between Friends

Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans (background)

Rating: NC17 (for language, smut, underage drinking, recreational drug use, references to child abuse)

Summary: It's the Marauders' last year at Hogwarts; James and Lily are finally going out, leaving Peter, Sirius and Remus to entertain themselves when they go out on dates. Sirius couldn't be happier for them, but it's left him with plenty of time to think about something he's been able to ignore up until now. As a result, he's had a lot on his mind lately, and Remus has noticed.

Notes: written as a companion piece to an upcoming story, Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King, but this can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: some vague references to child abuse, this takes place in their seventh year

CH 1

Returning to Hogwarts was almost bittersweet now that it was their last time doing so. There were moments when Sirius wished he had a time turner to go back to first year and do it all over again, and others when the prospect of his future seemed like his greatest adventure just waiting to be taken. And best of all, in his opinion, was that he would have his best friends by his side. Regardless of what was happening outside the castle walls, nothing could shake the bonds they’d built over the last six years.

   It was the first weekend of term, and while he'd had images of the four of them doing something grand for their first Friday night back, he hadn't counted on Lily finally agreeing to go out with James. Sirius had almost asked him to reschedule. It was the first Friday night of their seventh year for Merlin's sake! Surely Lily would understand that it was only right that they begin the term with a bang! But as Sirius watched his friend rummaging through his school trunk, muttering to himself about needing tonight to go well, he hadn't the heart to ask. 

   He, Remus and Peter watched on from their respective beds and played a laidback game of muggle catch with a ball Remus had brought from home. Apparently, his mother had recently introduced his father to a muggle game called tennis, which had resulted in numerous green and white balls being left scattered about in their home. 

   "I just want to look good for her," James said, tossing a shirt over his shoulder.

   Sirius arched a brow as he looked over at Remus, tossing the tennis ball to him. "You might want to make sense of that hair then," he teased with a smirk.

   "Oh piss off, Padfoot, I'm serious," James replied, holding a different shirt up in front of him.

   He looked back at James and said, "I don't think she'll care what you look like, mate." 

   "She'll just be happy to be spending time with you," Remus added, throwing the ball to Peter.

   Wormtail said, "She's probably just as nervous as you are." 

   "Yeah, it'll be fine as soon as you get to Honeydukes." Catching the ball that Peter had thrown, Sirius shifted his gaze between his other two friends. "Now we just have to decide what we're going to make of our evening, gents." He threw the ball to Remus, who caught it in one hand.

   "Just as long as it doesn't involve skinny dipping in the Black Lake again," said the werewolf, rolling his eyes. 

   "I second that," Peter replied, catching the ball that was thrown to him. "Jacqueline nearly took me corey off the last time."

   "As I recall, Peter, that was the most action you got all year," Sirius teased.

   "Sod off, will ye, Black," Peter replied, putting a little extra heat into his throw to Sirius.

   "Ooh," Sirius chuckled as he caught it. "It's too bloody cold for a swim anyway."

   "We could always go to Zonko's and see about getting another Frog Spawn Soap to put in the first year bathroom," Remus suggested.

   Peter groaned. "That sounds boring."

   "Well then, Wormtail, what do you suggest?" Remus asked, throwing him the ball.

   "Let's nick some firewhiskey and go down to the Shrieking Shack." He threw the ball to Sirius, who looked rather impressed by the suggestion.

   "I’m up for it," he said, looking at Remus before asking as he threw the ball. "What say you, Moony?"

   "I can't encourage that, I'm a prefect! Anyway, where would we find a bottle?"

   "Slughorn always keeps one in his office," Peter answered. 

   "If you gits get snagged trying to filch Slughorn's liquor, you'll be in detention for a month," James said as he stood holding up two different shirts, turning to face them. "Which one?" he asked, putting one in front of him, then the other.

   Sirius looked at both shirts, grimacing at the multi-colored jumper in his friend's right hand before he pointed to the red button down in his left. "That one. And while we're on the subject, you should burn that ghastly jumper. It's giving me nausea just looking at it."

   "This coming from the man whose wardrobe is made up entirely of jeans and t-shirts just to piss off his family from afar?" James quipped with a slight smirk as he pulled the approved shirt on.

   "Don't forget his precious leather jacket," Remus said as he caught the ball Sirius threw to him.

   "I like the jacket," Peter mused.

   "Thank you, Peter, at least someone in this dormitory has good taste," Sirius said, grinning at his friend as he caught the ball next.

   "'Good taste' is a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Remus teased.

   Before Sirius could give a cheeky response, James said, "Right, how do I look?"

   "Like a proper lady," Peter teased, earning a round of laughs from the other two friends.

   James rolled his eyes and began to unbutton his shirt, which prompted Sirius to stand after he caught the ball from Peter.

   "Oi, don't listen to this prat, he's just taking the mickey. You look good," he said as he put his hands on Jame's shoulders, one still holding the ball. "Evans won't know what to do with herself. She'll be wondering what took her so long to realize what a handsome bloke you are." He blindly threw the ball to Remus as James smiled at him thankfully.

   "She turned me down so many times, I'm afraid she'll take one look and change her mind."

   "Don't be daft, she fancies you," Sirius answered with a one-sided-shrug. "Now go and show her a good time."

   "Just be sure to use a johnny," Peter chimed.

   "Oi! Don't talk about her like that," James replied, whipping around to glare at Peter, who held his hands up in mock surrender.

   "Apologies, mate. I were only foolin'," Wormtail replied, throwing the ball to Sirius, who caught it over Jame's shoulder.

   "Bloody wanker," he mumbled before addressing James again. "You'll be fine, alright?"

   "Don't worry so much, James," Remus said from his bed. Sirius tossed him the ball, which he caught before adding, "Just be yourself."

   "Maybe a less pratty version of yourself," Sirius teased.

   James took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, his cheeks ballooning as a result. "Alright. You guys are right. I just need to relax and be myself."

   "That's the spirit," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. He caught the ball when Peter tossed it to him and immediately threw it to Remus.

   "I'll meet you at the shack after. Wish me luck," James said, earning a choir of 'good luck' as he left the dorms to wait for Lily in the common room.

   Sirius rolled his eyes half-heartedly and picked up his leather jacket, putting it on. "Well? How are we going to get old Slughorn's firewhiskey then?"

   Peter caught the ball, his hand dropping to his lap as the three of them pondered on the question. With Slughorn's office on the sixth floor, they couldn't exactly use the window. 

   Unless…

   "The three point drop," Sirius suggested.

   "Who's going to distract him?" Remus asked.

   Sirius caught the ball that Peter threw, grinning at Remus. "You, of course. You're the prefect."

   Remus rolled his eyes and caught the tennis ball, setting it on his night table as he sighed, "Of course." He stood and grabbed his own jumper, followed the other two out of their room, and down the staircase to the common room. "He'll be trying to cut the conversation short," he warned.

   "You'll have to make the drop in under two minutes, Wormtail," Sirius replied.

   "I can do that."

   "Are you sure? We were nearly found out the last time," Remus said.

   "Sure, I'm sure!" 

   "You know where it is, don't you?" Sirius asked, glancing over his shoulder. Peter was just as much their friend as any one of them, but there were times where he could be a right twit.

   Sirius could practically hear the eye roll as Peter answered, "The top shelf, next to the fireplace. I can do this, don't worry."

   A couple of fifth year girls smiled at Sirius as they walked through the common room. Out of pure habit, he winked in their direction as he, Remus and Peter walked by, smiling at the giggles that erupted behind them as he led his friends out of Gryffindor Tower.

   When they reached the staircase, they split up, Sirius continued down to the entrance hall and out the front doors to wait below Slughorn's window, while Remus and Wormtail, now in his rat form, went up to the sixth floor. Slughorn wasn't one to socialize much except for with his star students, Wormtail would have to sneak past Remus and the professor, transform into his human form, and quickly toss the bottle out the window, then transform back into a rat and sneak past them once more. It was a risk seeing as how Peter had only just learned to transform without a wand… again, but if they could at least secure the firewhiskey it might be worth the detention if they got caught. 

   Tilting his ear up to the half-opened window, Sirius smirked at the sound of Slughorn answering his door, and his and Remus' muffled voices. He looked around to be sure there was no one in the vicinity and pulled his wand out in anticipation, ready to shrink the bottle so that he could easily hide it in his jacket until they reached the Shack. 

   "Mr. Black?" 

   He turned abruptly to face McGonagall, instinctively, placing his hands behind his back. He nonverbally cast a levitation spell when he heard the sound of sloshing liquid above them, something he had only recently perfected. He just hoped it would hold until he could get rid of McGonagall.

   "Good evening, Professor."

   "It isn’t very often I see you without your friends."

   "Oh, I was just enjoying the crisp evening air, admiring the sunset." It sometimes amazed even him how quickly he could think on his feet, even while he concentrated on keeping a bottle of firewhiskey from coming down behind him.

   McGonagall arched a suspicious brow. "Alone?"

   "James is on a date," he answered, quickly adding, "Remus and Peter should be along shortly." 

   She looked a bit skeptical, but nodded slowly. "I expect you'll be back inside by curfew."

   "Mhm," he hummed behind a closed-lip smile. 

   They would likely be spending the night in the Shack. He would have to remember to tell the others that they needed to be in for breakfast in the morning. As soon as she walked into the castle he set his sights on the bottle and let it fall. He slowed its momentum to catch it, shrunk it, and slipped it into his jacket.

   A few minutes later, his co-conspirators walked out the castle, and the three went to the Whomping Willow, where Wormtail pushed the knot for them to sneak under it. 

   "I should get first sip!" Peter declared as they came through the entry hole into the shack minutes later. 

   Remus waved his wand at the fireplace, lighting it. 

   "I took the most risk," Peter continued as he plopped down onto the chaise closest to the fire.

   Not bloody likely, Sirius thought as he rolled his eyes and handed the bottle over anyway, bringing it back to normal size with a point of his wand. He didn't really care who drank first, so long as he could get drunk. With James more focused on Lily ever since the end of last year, it had left Sirius alone with his own thoughts much more often, and they were nothing but chaos as of late. In that time, certain feelings had begun to arise in him, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. Distractions certainly helped, and firewhiskey was a wonderful distraction indeed.

   Sinking into the sofa, he peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back before he waved his wand to put a record in the player.

   "Please, no more Elvis," Remus groaned when he saw the record floating above the turntable. "I still have nightmares from third year."

   Sirius couldn't help the barking belly laugh that escaped as Peter passed the bottle to Remus. "Put on whatever you like then, Moony. We've got all night."

   They had been spending more and more time at the Shrieking Shack ever since beginning their sixth year, which Sirius didn't mind in the slightest. At first he thought Remus might have preferred not to, especially considering the reason they had access to it in the first place, but surprisingly, Remus had been wanting to associate the shack with more than just his monthly transformation. From what he’d told them, having better memories in the Shack helped keep the wolf a bit calmer on the nights when they weren’t roaming around the Forbidden Forest. Plus, it gave them a break in their normal routine.

   "What do you guys think of Sybill Trewlawny?" Peter asked.

   Sirius furrowed his brows. "Who?" 

   "The Ravenclaw who's friends with Emma Vanity's little sister." Remus said.

   "Right. She's alright. A bit strange maybe," Sirius added. "But sweet." He took a swig from the bottle, relishing the burn that slid down his throat and bloomed in his chest before he passed it to Peter. "Wasn't her great-great grandmother that famous Seerer?"

   Of course, Remus was the one to answer. "Cassandra Trelawney."

  "That's the one," Sirius replied.

   Peter simply shrugged. "I've been thinking about asking her on a date."

   "She's a fourth year, what could you possibly have in common with a fourth year?" Remus asked.

   "I dunno, but I think she's rather fit," Peter said.

   Sirius arched a brow as the blonde took a sip from the bottle. He somehow doubted that a bird like Sybill Trelawny would give a prat like Peter the time of day. He didn't know the girl, but she seemed rather captivated by her Divination studies as of late. She could often be found under the tree by the Black Lake with her tarot cards, offering students readings during breaks, and didn't seem particularly interested in romance. Or much of anything else that he ever noticed.

   "Do let us know how that goes, Wormtail," he said with a smirk.

   "You think I should?" Peter asked Remus, handing over the firewhiskey.

   Remus sighed. "I wouldn't find anything in common with a fourth year, but if you fancy her, Peter, I say go for it."

   Peter smiled and leaned back on the chaise, apparently satisfied with the answer.

   "I heard Mary fancies you," Sirus said, gently nudging Remus, whose cheeks flushed a deep pink. Sirius thought it looked rather adorable on him. "You should talk to her."

   Remus shook his head. "She's been rather jumpy since what happened to her."

   "Shame really, what Mulciber did," Peter chimed.

   "Lily said she's been doing much better this year. She seems much more comfortable around people in general," Sirius said as he took a swig and handed the bottle off.

   "Well, that's good to hear," Remus said. "I just don't think I'm good for her."

   "Why the bloody hell not?" Sirius asked.

   "Because, Padfoot, eventually she would start to wonder where I keep disappearing to every full moon. And once she knows, she won't want anything to do with me. Not to mention that she might even take initiative to tell others about my… condition."

   "I reckon, given what she's been through, she might understand," Peter offered. He gave the bottle to Remus after sneaking an extra sip.

   "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Peter," Sirius replied. "She doesn't seem like the type of bird to let that bother her."

   Remus waved him off. "Maybe not, and I am happy to hear she's doing better. But I'm not terribly interested in Mary MacDonald anyhow."

   For a few moments, the only sound was Genesis coming from the gramophone in the corner of the room while they passed the bottle of firewhisky around to each other. Remus shifted his feet and for whatever reason that drew Sirius' attention to the veins in his hand. He found himself captivated by the way one of them raised between the knuckles of Remus' middle and ring fingers, and curled toward the last knuckle, only to disappear further up the back of his hand. 

   "How do you think it's going with James and Lily?" Peter asked, holding back a burp.

   Meeting eyes with Remus, Sirius quipped, "I suppose if he has boils when he gets here we'll know," with a laugh.

   Remus joined in the laughter, followed quickly by Peter, the former replying, "You don't think he'll try to bring her here after, do you?"

   "Merlin, I hope not," Sirius mumbled. "I like Evans, but she can be quite finicky about following the rules."

   "I think she’s brilliant," Peter said into the bottle before sneaking another drink.

   "You would," Sirius quipped.

   "Piss off, Black."

   For the next couple of hours, they drank and laughed, throwing out a few more theories about how James' date was going. At some point, Sirius found himself noticing how slender and long Remus' fingers were when they grazed against his while they passed the bottle between them. He knew Remus was more keen to drum on his bed, but he imagined if Remus ever wanted to take up another instrument, he certainly had the fingers for the piano.

   After sneaking one too many extra sips, Peter tipped over, his face landing on the chaise cushions. Remus and Sirius held back laughter as the former swiped the bottle from their passed out friend. 

   "Lightweight he is," Sirius mumbled as Remus took a drink. "So what's this about you thinking you're no good?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Earlier, when we were talking about Mary, you said you don't think you're good for her," Sirius replied, taking the bottle when it was offered. 

   "That doesn't mean —"

   "Which is what you've said about every girl that's ever taken an interest," Sirius said. 

   Remus took a deep breath, one hand running through his hair. "As much as I would love to have a normal life; date, shag… bloody hell, even kissing, I can't. What if I can't control the wolf? What if I end up killing someone? Blimey, I nearly did kill someone two years ago."

   Frowning to himself, Sirius shook his head and mumbled, "That wasn't your fault," before he took a swig from the bottle. 

   Remus had been more than generous in forgiving him for that stupid prank he had pulled in their fifth year, if it could even be called a prank at all. Sirius had never imagined that Snivellus would actually listen to a bloody thing he had to say. Still, he couldn't help but feel as though he had inadvertently betrayed one of his best friends just to get one over on the greasy git. Not always thinking things through had always been a glaring flaw of his, and it was something he seemed to continue to struggle with more often than he'd liked. He was lucky Remus started speaking to him again, let alone continued being his friend.

   "That doesn't change that I almost killed Severus… and Prongs," Remus replied. "I can't take the risk. Besides, I don't want anyone else to know about my illness. It was hard enough telling you three, I can't imagine having to tell a girl that I fancy why I disappear once a month. Even if I did date someone who was understanding about it, being with me would make them just as much of an outcast as my kind is. How could I ask that of someone?"

   Sirius stared at him for a moment as he drank again from the bottle and processed what Remus said. He couldn't think of anyone else as selfless or caring as his friend, so it was difficult to hear him think so little about his potential happiness. He was the type of bloke most fathers would be happy to see their daughters with; kind, respectful, hard-working, and brilliant. 

   "Don't you think people should be able to make that decision for themselves?" he asked, holding out the bottle.

   "Not if that means I have to risk telling them my secret," Remus answered.

   Sirius conceded that as a fair point, but then something else stuck out about his friend's confession, "Did I hear right? You've never even kissed anyone?"

   Remus' cheeks flushed with red again, growing a deeper shade by the second as he avoided eye contact and barely shook his head. "From what I've gathered, kissing always seems to lead to something else."

   "It doesn't have to," Sirius said, his eyes faced forward. He was trying so hard not to stare at the delectable color of his friend's skin, especially now that he was wondering how it might taste. "Sometimes kissing is just fun."

   As confident as he always was around girls, Sirius had begun to notice other facets of his sexuality emerging, which didn't make him feel quite as confident. It seemed that he woke up one morning and had started to notice boys as well. Deep down, he knew that he had always been interested in boys — tall boys, short boys, light boys, dark boys, it didn't seem to matter — but it had been much easier to ignore when he had his three best friends to come up with new pranks with. Now that they were older, however, and coming to an end in their Hogwarts journey, there was less prank planning to keep his mind occupied, especially now that James and Lily were dating, giving the dormant parts of his subconscious the space to thrive. Of course, he wasn't sure what to do with this newly-flourishing interest nor did he even know how he would go about exploring it. He knew he wasn't gay, he still liked girls… he just also seemed to possibly like boys, and he didn't quite know what to do with that information.

   "Still," Remus answered, snapping him back to their conversation. "If you enjoy it with someone, you're likely to do it again, and eventually it will lead to more."

   Despite himself, Sirius looked up, his eyes immediately  finding Remus' pouty lips, and his heart fluttered. He blinked and averted his eyes, licking his own lips as he brought the bottle up for another sip. "There's got to be some work around."

   "I doubt it. Unless I fell in love with another werewolf I suppose," Remus replied, using his wand to switch out the record. "But that's already so rare, I doubt it'll happen. Sex Pistols?"

   Sirius cut his eyes to Remus. "What?" 

   "Is it alright if I put on The Sex Pistols record?" Remus asked again.

   "Oh, right. Sure," Sirius answered, leaning his head back against the sofa. Why was he now thinking about snogging one of his best friends? "What if it was someone who already knew about you being a werewolf?" 

   Remus arched a brow at him. "Apart from my parents, the three of you and Dumbledore are the only ones who know about my condition. Well, and Severus, I suppose."

   "Please don't try to snog him," Sirius replied, hoping the levity would lighten the mood, and also take his mind off of imagining how Moony's lips would feel against his. "Or Dumbledore for that matter. Actually, you know, if you did snog Dumbledore, that might help us avoid any future detentions."

   "Bloody prat," Remus said, taking a moment before he passed the bottle back to his friend. "So… are you going to tell me what's been going on with you or are we still trying to avoid it by talking about me?"

   Sirius shrugged as he took a swig from the bottle and swallowed, handing it back. He was already feeling a strong buzz, but maybe if he got himself too drunk to speak, he could just pass out. "I don't know what you mean."

   "You've been rather quiet the last couple of weeks. More reserved than usual."

   His fingers began to play with a loose thread on his jeans as he gave another shrug. He hadn't told a soul about his attraction to other boys, not even his three closest friends, mostly because he didn't want to have to deal with Peter taking the piss out of him for it. He knew Remus and James wouldn't, and the latter would reign Peter in straight away. And normally Sirius couldn't care less what others thought of him save for comparing him to his family, but this was somehow different. It felt fragile. Special, like if he allowed anyone to make light of it, it might break him. He didn't know how to even begin unpacking it all.

   "Come on, Sirius," Remus said beside him, setting it down on the coffee table. He turned slightly, bringing his knee up on the sofa. "I know we fool around much of the time, but you know you can trust me. I can tell there's something going on with you. I want to help, but I can't if I don't know what it is."  

   Casting a quick glance to Peter, who had just turned over onto his side with a brief snore, Sirius swallowed and looked back at Remus. "I'm not even sure how to begin to be quite honest. It's just something I think I've been feeling for a long time, but only just began to notice more a short while ago. I'm still trying to understand what it means."

   He was grateful that Remus didn't press, but rather pulled his leg closer to the back of the sofa so that he was facing him fully, and waited patiently.

   "Seems… I like witches," Sirius started to say, earning a soft chuckle from Remus just before he added, "and wizards. Well…" He couldn't exactly be sure because he'd hadn't yet acted on it, but then wasn't the fact that he did indeed plan to act on it enough? "I think I might."

   Remus let out a breath as a smile started to form on his lips and said, "Well I'm glad it isn't something more serious."

   With furrowed brows, he flickered his eyes to Remus. "It is serious, you tosspot!"

   "I just meant that I thought it was something to do with your family or something that was a matter of life and death or —"

   "Bloody hell, Remus, you and your dramatics, honestly," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

   "With what's been happening outside of Hogwarts, can you blame me?" Remus asked. "Did you hear that a number of fifth year Slytherins have already taken the dark mark?"

   "I think that's just a rumor," Sirius replied, though the suggestion had brought a panic in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Regulus, who had been avoiding him more and more as of late it seemed.

   "Well, is there someone you fancy in particular?" 

   Sirius smirked to himself, silently thankful that Remus hadn't continued talking about the Slytherin rumor, though the topic he chose instead wasn't exactly an easy one either. "No, not in particular. I've just been," he tried to find the proper words and settled on, "noticing things."

   "Such as?"

   Sirius tilted his head and said, "Dirk Cresswell's neck and how I think about biting it." Remus widened his eyes in his peripheral vision, which prompted him to look back and add, "Not hard, just a playful little nip. And Davey Gudgeon's lips, Gideon Prewett's eyes." The corner of his lips formed another smirk as he dropped his head onto the back of the sofa, and added, "Oh Remus, the dirty thoughts I've had about looking into those eyes."

   The deep red returned to Remus' cheeks as he subtly shifted in his seat. Sirius couldn't help but admire the color.

   "How cute you look when you blush," he said as though it were another observation on his list. His lips itched again to feel those of his friend when the color spread down to Moony's neck. His eyes fell on Remus' pulse point, visibly throbbing as if begging him to taste it. Wetting his lips, Sirius said breathily, "Remus," and waited until his friend looked back at him before he asked in a whisper, "What if I gave you your first kiss?"

   Each second that passed was marked by a thick, sharp thump that grew in his chest and reverberated in his ears. He couldn't believe he'd just had the stones to ask his friend such a question when he didn't even know whether Remus was attracted to boys as well. Without much of a second thought, Sirius had risked their friendship, and it was too late to take it back. Why couldn't he just learn to think through things first?

Read the rest here!

[mocha-gladiator]

Chapter 1

I dont intend to post the chapters in succession, but maybe just a few favorites would be nice. This is based on my favorite fae, the ghillie-dhu, and as many doubts as I've had, I've always kept this one passage. I only hope it means well to you

Year 3702 BT

“Why do you cry, girl?” It was a simple question, never easily answered, but it came from such a soft and honest voice that she at first did not notice the teeth behind the kind smile. Ivy stared at him for a moment, a man dressed in green with moss growing over his shoulders and down his cape. His hair was wavy and black, and his eyes a pale yellow and ever changing, like a cat’s. She watched the pupils grow from slivers as he spoke again. “Why do you cry, girl?” Her own voice sounded like a lamb’s bleat, something she was not used to. But this was not home. This was not a place to be used-to. “I want to go home.” The creature grinned again, with teeth that were certainly not human. Ivy knew that if she had seen him from a distance, she most certainly would have ran, but here close she could see the humanness in his face and the warmth in his laugh. “I know all the trails,” he assured her. “The rabbit’s trail, the mouse’s trail, that of the deer and that of the man. Tell me—where is it you want to go?” “Home,” she bleated at once. But of course that made no sense. Not to him. “Whythiecomb.” The man in green nodded, and reached out a hand. A normal, human hand. “I will show you the way.” Ivy put her hand in his, and was a bit surprised to find it warm. But what had she expected? A cold, dead one? The fae were living creatures, too, after all. She walked with him out of the briar patch and stepped onto a trod path that had not been there before. Or else, if it had, she would have found it and followed it, right? The girl did not even know up from down in this forest anymore, not with night falling. Maybe the path had been there, and she had just been too tired to notice. Regardless, the dirt felt better on her bare feet, and the forest not nearly so scary with someone there for comfort and guidance. “Thank you,” she breathed, watching out the other way. “Do not thank anyone in the fae forest,” the black-haired man warned. “Someone might think that you owe them a favor if you say those words.” Ivy looked up at him. His tone felt different, but still gentle towards her, and his face was still on the road. “What do I say instead?” she asked. The fae was quiet for a moment, and she watched his yellow eyes dart around as he searched for the right thing to say. “You do not say. You choose some small thing to do or say instead.” He held up a silver hand, pointing up. “But you do not owe me a thing. Understood?” “Yeah.” She said on reflex, and he could tell she did not. His strange eyes turned back to her. Was it worth explaining? They had a little ways to go yet. He turned back to the road and drew a breath. “If you speak the thanks, the other person takes it as an owed debt, and they can choose to take it from you whenever they like, but you act out the thanks yourself, you get to choose. Sometimes all it has to be is leaving out a bowl of cream, or a shiny trinket. Does not have to be much.” Ivy tugged on his hand. “Isn’t a bowl of cream for cats? Do you like cream?” The fae chuckled under his breath and tugged her hand in turn. “No, girl. I asked for no thanks. I am just warning you if you were to meet someone else. But don’t come back this way again, yea? There are beasts in these woods that would like to eat little girls like you.” “No, there’re not.” she said at once. “Yes, there are,” he insisted. “Do not come back. I will not be here. I will not let you find me if you look. It is not safe.” He slowed to a stop as the treeline faded into a grassy field, and beyond lie a mill and farm and a pen with goats. The fae knelt down in the tall grass and set his other hand atop hers and looked her in the eye with his strange ones. She watched as his cheeks smiled kindly, and the darks of his eyes grew big. “But if you are ever lost in the woods again, you can call me, and I will come find you.” Her face drooped as she realized she would have to leave soon. “How will I call you?” she asked.

“I am Morad. Do you think you can remember that?” He cocked his head at her. “You are quite young. You may not.” “I will!” she said at once, bouncing on her feet. “I will, I promise!” Worry flashed in his eyes, followed by bemusement before his sharp-toothed grin returned and he shook his head. “Well, what is my name, then?” She stopped and stared at him. “Uhhhhm….” Another quiet chuckle stirred in his throat. “Morad,” he reminded. “My name is Morad.” “Morad,” she repeated back, then looked at him rather puzzled. “That’s a weird name.” The fae shook his head. “Not really, but I have forgotten my real one.” He winked. “Somebody stole it.” Her face crinkled up. How could somebody steal a name? You could not even touch it. “You’d best be off,” he pressed. “The stars will be out soon, and your family will start to miss you.” Her face sobered again. “Do you really have to go? You could come live with us.” For a moment, the strange creature almost looked hurt, as if he might cry, but the softness soon came back. “Nae. Homes are for little girls like you.” He poked her belly. “I am a wild thing, like the deer. The woods are my home.” “Can I see you again?” she asked as he rose to his feet. “Maybe,” he considered. “But do not come looking for me. You will never find me that way.” “But—“ Her mother’s voice came on the wind, and she turned her head to see the woman at the bottom of the fields near the stream. When she turned back, the fae was gone—nothing there beside her but a few crushed stalks. Her face saddened, but she turned towards home. “Goodbye, Morad,” she called anyway, waving her hand at the pitch dark. A pair of eyes glowed from the bushes, and the shadows brightly answered, “Goodbye, girl.”

[scarlettlillies]

Hetalia - Fryderyka

Happy (belated) birthday @kyuhu!! <3 This fic is based on her wonderful EstPol AU that she created earlier this year where the two of them are partners in doing petty crime early in the 20th century. However, I took a lot of liberties with the AU and let Feliks commit a murder. Because he can do that. As a treat. :D

This isn't a genre I typically write but I still hope all of you enjoy it regardless! It was a lot of fun writing this fic and I'm glad I was finally able to tackle this ship. They have a very interesting dynamic! If you prefer to read this on Ao3, please click the link here. Summary: Attracted to only the wealthy and powerful, a person by the name of Fryderyka made a choice to charm this lone businessman when he was at his worst. It worked just as intended and they were now locked in arms on their way to his apartment. Unfortunately for him, it would be the last time he'd be seen walking through these halls.

----

He came home almost every night with a new woman locked in his arms. But under all the glitz and glamour of these expensive walls, this was the first time a woman he was with had everyone in the apartment lobby turning heads.

She had an impeccable taste dressed in a heavy black overcoat with a matching floppy hat. The frilly hems of her red dress were visible from the bottom of the coat, cutting off just above the top of her brown ankle-heeled boots. He wasn’t planning on taking anyone home tonight. After losing an important business contract that was worth millions, the only thing he wanted to do was drown his frustrations with a few heavy drinks. But this woman, who called herself Fryderyka, charmed her way to his table and into his heart almost immediately. After spending nearly an hour and a half chatting up a storm, he made an offer to take her back to his apartment in the business district where all the wealthy politicians, lawyers, and investors called home. Her emerald green eyes lit up in excitement. It was one she couldn’t refuse.

Fryderyka was loud and giggly as the man flirted with her on their walk towards the elevator. She was attracted to his clean-cut look and strong masculine features. He had looked dashing in a simple black tuxedo while his short brown hair had been slicked back. One older woman sitting in the lobby with her Maltese dog, dressed in an expensive light blue floral dress and her grey hair done up in a bun, scoffed at the couple when their eyes crossed.

“Ignore her darling, she’s merely jealous.”

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t bother me at all. But who is she?”

“Just a neighbour. She was the wife of one of the top lawyers in the country.”

“Was?”

“Yes, he had an... unfortunate accident about a year ago. He had made a lot of enemies during his long career. The poor woman found him dead in their apartment. Understandably, she has never gotten over the loss. Even to this day, the mere sound of his name sends her into an emotional spiral.”

With what sounded like a nervous cough, he was quick to drop the subject. It was clear to Fryderyka that the topic was an uncomfortable one.

“But, uh, enough of that kind of talk. We have the whole night to look forward to.”

The doors to the elevator opened. He had selected the top button, the 23rd floor. During the entire ride up and the walk towards his apartment, he never let her go, lavishing her with gentle kisses on her cheek and neck. She adored all the attention but reminded him to take things slow.

“Save some for when we’re inside! Like you said, we have the whole night together, don’t we?”

He chuckled and gave her one last kiss on her cheek, “Of course, of course.”

The man unlocked the door and allowed her to enter first. When he took her heavy coat and hat to hang, she was taken aback by everything her eyes could see. It was an apartment fit for a king: the penthouse suite. All the furniture and light fixtures appeared custom-made. Expensive replicas of well-known artwork decorated the walls. The marble floors were so clean that one could eat off it. It was just like a scene from a Hollywood film. It was everything Fryderyka could dream of.

He took her by the hand and led her down three small steps into the hallway, “Please, make yourself at home.”

Fryderyka was led to the living room where she made herself comfortable on the left side of a beige floral sofa. A chandelier hung above them with the lights dimmed. Across from them was a makeshift bar that featured a wooden cabinet with top-of-the-line glassware and bottles of various kinds of liqueur. Her fascination caught his attention.

“Care for a drink?” he asked. He tried to leave so he could prepare the drinks however Fryderyka stopped him by tugging his hand.

“Please, let me do it. You’ve been so good to me all night. It’s the least I could do.”

He protested but when he realized she wouldn’t take no for an answer, he let her get her wish. She made her way towards the bar and poured both of them a glass of whisky. But inside her dress, she pulled out a tiny bottle and poured a clear liquid into the second glass. The bottle quickly disappeared back into her dress and returned to the sofa with a glass in each hand. He thanked her and the words "Na Zdrowie!" were yelled by both parties when the two glasses tinkered. She carefully watched him with piercing green eyes when he downed the drink. Meanwhile, she only took small sips of hers. He thought this was odd behaviour.

“Is something wrong?” he asked curiously. “You’ve hardly touched your drink.”

“Nothing at all. Just admiring the view from here.”

She gave him a flirtatious grin and placed the glass back on the table. In a move that surprised him, she took the lead and moved in to close the gap between them. With arms wrapped around his shoulders, she leaned for a sweet kiss on the cheek. Her lips then fell to his neck where she was overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne. Her left hand moved to his black bow tie and slowly began pulling it undone. It was quickly tossed to the floor, resulting in her hand being free to unbutton the first two buttons of his white-collared shirt for easier access to the lower part of his neck and collarbone.

He loved all of the attention and allowed himself to get lost in her touch. Little did he know, the clock was ticking for him. She was only trying to stall for time as the poison worked its magic.

His hands began to get a little gluttonous as they roamed down her back and towards her bottom. He gave it a light squeeze and a loud giggle slipped from her lips. With his shirt fully undone, Fryderyka was free to do as she pleased to his bare chest.

But as the passion was reaching its peak, the man had suddenly pushed her off. He painfully groaned as he shut his eyes and his hand covered his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. But this headache... it just happened all of a sudden—”

There we go...

“Maybe you just need some water. I’ll get you a glass.”

When Fryderyka made a dash to the kitchen, the man managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. However, his vision began to get blurry and his chest was growing tighter with each breath. He struggled to understand what was happening to him and his nerves forced his whole body to shake uncontrollably.

He tried to stand on his own two feet however his knees couldn’t handle the weight of his body. He came crashing down onto the coffee table when his knees buckled. The legs of the table snapped immediately on impact and his head slammed into the marble floors where broken glass had scattered everywhere. Fryderyka had spent the whole ordeal hovering over the sink, waiting for the poison to finish him off. When she deemed it safe to do so, she reemerged into the living room with a satisfied grin. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked towards his body. A small pool of blood was forming around the man’s head as she took a moment to admire her handy work. To see such a wealthy man like himself reduced to nothing was such a powerful and delightful feeling.

“Sleep tight darling.”

Adjacent to the bar, a pair of doors opened and a man came out holding two suitcases. While not dressed nearly as luxurious as the other, he looked good with his dapper brown vest, matching pants and pageboy hat, rolled-up white sleeves, and black dress shoes. A small tied-up blue ribbon underneath the collar of his shirt completed the look. His short blond hair was a little messy underneath his hat and he donned a nice pair of glasses that was a perfect fit for his delicate face.

He looked so disappointed at the scene unfolding in the living room. An exhausted sigh fell from his lips.

“Feliks, was it necessary for you to kill the guy? The plan was for you to distract him long enough for me to rob his safes and leave. I didn’t sign up to be an accessory to murder.”

Feliks shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry Eduard but you know how things happen. We both got a little flirty and he offered a ride back to his place. How was I to say no?”

With a slow waltz towards Eduard, Feliks chose to tease him with a peck on the lips to get him frazzled. “Besides, you should be thanking me. I bought us more time, didn’t I?”

The kiss did exactly as intended as his face flushed to a bright red colour. Eduard huffed as he turned his focus towards the bar area, not willing to admit that Feliks was correct.

“You still didn’t have to poison him though. The agreement was to get him drunk enough that he would black out.”

Feliks rolled his eyes and was eager to change topics, “Looks like you got a good haul. What did you get?”

Relieved at the topic change, his cheeks were still somewhat flushed when he finally felt ready to face Feliks again.

“I was only able to crack the safe that was behind the painting above his desk. The suitcase on the left is full of money. I didn’t count but there must be thousands of dollars here. The right one is just jewels. We should be able to get a lot of cash for these once we put them on the black market.”

His face lit up at the sound of jewels, “Oooh! Let me see! Let me see!”

Feliks tried to grab the second suitcase however Eduard was quicker and pulled it further back. He used his other arm to elbow Feliks gently in the chest so he wouldn't get any closer.

“Not now! We need to get out of here before someone tries to come in. You should go and get changed. I left your bag of spare clothes in the bedroom.”

Feliks continued to tease him by letting out a fake gasp as if he were offended by the comment.

“What? You don’t think I look good?”

Eduard was clearly losing his patience and was struggling to keep his grip on the two suitcases due to their weight. He had no idea if this man had other family living here or a butler employed working the odd hours. It didn’t sit well with him that they had been here for so long, especially now there was a dead body involved in the mix. For a brief moment, he shut his eyes and bit his bottom lip to keep his anxieties contained. He just wanted to leave.

“Just do it. Please.”

Feliks crossed his arms and pouted. He admitted defeat.

“Fine. This dress was starting to annoy me anyway.”

He took no more than two minutes to change and came out with black dress pants and a buttoned-up white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he sported a pair of black leather gloves. Bright red spenders were attached to his pants and his brown-heeled boots had been swapped out for black dress shoes. They looked just like Eduard’s, albeit somewhat smaller. With his bag draped over his shoulder, he put on a grey flat cap. His chin-length blond hair was a tad messy. Therefore he took a moment and used the fingers on his right hand to straighten things out.

“Better?”

“Better,” Eduard nodded, “Now let's get out of here. If we’re lucky, we just might make the midnight train heading towards Germany.”

The two men dashed for the door but Feliks was cautious not to leave behind the coat and hat he wore for his disguise, stuffing them in the bag with the rest of his clothing. Eduard exited first while Feliks followed afterwards, shutting the door behind him quietly. The men agreed that going forward, they were to speak only in whispers so the neighbours wouldn’t hear them.

“If anyone asks who we are, we’re just tourists on a business trip.”

On the way towards the elevator, the two men crossed paths with an older woman carrying her dog in her arms. Feliks immediately recognized her as the woman in the lobby from earlier in the evening. The two exchanged glances and when Feliks tipped his hat to her, the colour disappeared from her face. They looked so much like the woman her neighbour had locked arms with—only she no longer looked like a woman, but a man instead. With the other man looking like no one she had seen before, her intuition told her that something wasn't right. She ran as quickly as her weak legs could carry her towards the penthouse suite. She banged on the door and called out the man's name three times to no avail. Finally, she had caved and unwillingly opened the door. This scenario she found herself in was playing out exactly like how she discovered her deceased husband a year ago. Sure enough, as it slowly opened, the neighbour’s dead body was in plain view under the chandelier.

As the elevator doors closed on them, her screams filled the hallway. Earlier in the walk, Feliks had pulled a cigarette from his pocket along with a silver-coloured lighter. He took a long drag and all he could do was voice his words in a singsong.

“We’re in trouble now.”

[acourtofthought]

In ACOWAR and at the start of ACOMAF, there were many hints that Feyre was always destined for the Night Court, regardless of her simultaneously falling for and nearly marrying someone in Spring.

I’d painted around the knobs of Elain’s drawer, the crackling flames I’d painted around Nesta’s, and the night sky—whorls of yellow stars standing in for white—around mine

And above that, perched in a frozen mountainous spread of darkness and stars, the sprawling, massive territory of the Night Court. There were things in the shadows between those mountains—little eyes, gleaming teeth. A land of lethal beauty. The hair on my arms rose.

Behind me, a shadow lurked—no, watched. I didn’t dare turn to look at it, to see who might be within that shadow, observing, not as the wolf stared at me across the clearing.

I looked at the pool of glittering starlight and let out a heavy breath. I needed to change the subject. “What would happen if I were to drink the water?” Tamlin straightened a bit—then relaxed, as if glad to release that old sadness. “Legend claims you’d be happy until your last breath.”

Up and up, building to a palace in the sky, a hall of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely and kind and fantastic dwelled in peace. I wept—wept to be so close to that palace, wept from the need to be there. Everything I wanted was there—the one I loved was there—

Celebrating a winter holiday in a place that was permanently entrenched in spring hadn’t done much to improve my general lack of festive cheer.

A night breeze floated through the open windows, ruffling my hair, drying the cold sweat on me. The dark sky beckoned, the stars so dim and small, like speckles of frost.

“Welcome to the Night Court,” was all Rhys said. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

So why is that same setup, only in reverse starting in Night Court yet hinting at Spring, being ignored for Elain?

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises.

Nesta hid the devastation well. The frustration. “What can I get you, Elain?” Only with Elain did she use that voice. But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.”

She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. “Don’t be afraid of them,” Nesta said beneath lowered brows. If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta … she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood.

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. THE ONLY bridge of connection … that knife.

Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine

But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her. Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place.

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber.

In ACOTAR, once Tamlin allows her to see, hear and smell what he does, the first scent of Springs magic that Feyre notes is jasmine.

Elain in black was ridiculous

the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

Gone was the ill-suited black dress from the ball,

Thanks to @acourtdelaluna for inspiring this post ❤️

[kandyshoppe]

My first gotcha post! I hope y’all like it! Thank you to the beta readers for helping me with this one! Honestly, this was so fun I may come back to the idea a bit on my own time!

Gotcha for Gaza: link

Prompt: malleus x leona, modern college au where they're co-captains of their biggest sports team and so they're rivals. but malleus's roommate (u can choose who, or just make up a npc) has his boyfriend over so he shows up at leona's (who doesn't have a roommate) door and asks to sleep on his floor for the night. commence bonding.

Submitted by @makkisucks to @twstaction

(Fic under the read more)

The stands were on their feet, some were getting worried the bleachers would collapse under the weight, though more were worried about a full out brawl between fans. The score had been neck and neck for some time. When one team got a point, the other team got one right after. Everyone was putting their all and then some into this game. It was the final of the season after all.

Leona had the ball and was racing past the opposing team, dodging left and right, eyes on the prize. A screaming goalie with a mop of green hair. Just as he was about to send the ball into the net, a blur of black.

Malleus snatched the ball, racing back across the field, though Leona was hot on his tail. The two top players of the game, neck and neck. While Malleus was taller, Leona was still just a just bit faster when he needed to be, racing right past Malleus to at least help guard the goal. He didn’t have time to win, but just a draw would be okay. Just don't get this goal. Don’t let him be second place yet again!

Malleus reared back, aiming, and sending the ball flying into the net, right past Leona and straight into Epel’s chest, the purple haired goalie on Leona’s side. Cheers drowned out Epel’s slight scream of pain as his back hit the ground and he also was sent into the goal. Banged up, some cuts and bruises already starting to form, and the wind knocked right out of him.

Leona runs to his junior teammate, helping him sit up as Epel got his wind back and took some shuddering breaths. Leona stayed right there, holding Epel’s hand as medics came up to check the younger before taking him away. The glare Leona sent Malleus, who was cheering on the other side of the field, could have killed.

Leona stood protectively next to Epel, helping the younger to stand as straight as he could with a bruised back. Leona hated this part of every game, regardless if he won or not. Why did he have to shake hands with his opponent? They were enemies, not friends, and to treat them as such made Leona want to barf.

Going down the line, Leona made sure to keep an eye on Epel. Each handshake felt more disgusting than the last, until the actual last. Malleus and Leona stood face to face. Both grabbing the other’s outstretched hand only to squeeze and dig their nails into the other. The line stopped moving. Leona felt Ruggie, his vice captain bump into his back, but he only had eyes on Malleus. If looks could kill is all he thought as he stared down the other captain.

“Good luck next time, Kingscholar,” Malleus smirked, looking down his nose at the other. Green met green, and the world stopped for half a second. Everyone was holding their breath. It wasn’t unknown that the two captains despised each other. It had been that way since they met. Both just rubbing the other wrong at every meeting. “I hope you do return to the field after this loss,” Malleus finished, a sadistic glint in his eye.

Leona nearly spit, if not for two pairs of hands, Ruggie’s and the other vice captain separating the two of them before gently pushing them forward. If they hadn’t, Leona may have punched Malleus. That would get on the front paper.

Epel sniffles as quietly as he can in the almost empty changing room, his raw back and scratched face being gently cleaned by his captain and vice captain. Dirt and sand were clinging to his skin, and needing to be coaxed out of his injuries, each time Leona or Ruggie rubbed at a sensitive spot, he blinked back tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, almost too quiet to hear, but his seniors caught the sound.

“It's not your fault,” Ruggie coos, holding the younger’s face to clean the cut right under the junior’s eye, smiling as he recalls his own grandmother comforting him earlier over the phone. He had also cried at the loss, but never in front of the younger ones. “‘It was anyone's game, and they just got the ball first,’” Ruggie repeated his grandmother’s words.

“It’s definitely not your fault, fresh,” Leona gruffs behind them, having to hold back his frustration just in case he accidently pressed too hard on the injuries. “Lizard head cheated,” he growled out, before having to take a step back, pretending he didn’t notice the flinch when he had gotten a rock out of a deeper cut.

“How did he cheat?” Epel and Ruggie both asked, though Epel was more wide eyed and trusting while Ruggie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Leona stayed silent, his glare hardening at each buzz of his phone in his pocket. His brother’s ID was staring at him when he glanced down. He needed a nap.

Vil glances up from his vanity as he carefully applies his deep red lipstick, only to wrinkle his nose at the scent that hit him. “Can’t you take a shower BEFORE you return to the dorm? I would prefer to not have to smell you as I clean up your finance homework.”

Malleus quietly thanks his roommate as he enters, quickly shoving his dirty uniform into the hamper before entering the on suite bathroom for a shower, carefully avoiding Vil’s side. Last time he accidentally knocked over a bottle of whatever, Malleus was late to class having to listen to Vil’s lecture.

Boiling hot water starts to steam up the bathroom, Malleus gathering his shampoo and body wash before dropping his towel. He checks himself in the now foggy mirror for any injuries, a small whisper of a memory of the shorter purple haired boy falling hard on the field after Malleus scored. His brows furrowed as he steps into the shower and washes the guilt off, along with the dirt and grime from the final game. Lathering his hair he almost misses Vil speak.

“Don’t stay up too late just because I’m going out on a date,” Vil says over the rush of the water as he looks through his overcrowded closet, that is somehow still neat. Malleus rolls his eyes as he shuts off the stream. He only fainted once from exhaustion while roommates with Vil, back in the beginning of the year and Vil still worries.

“I won’t, but where are you going dressed like that?”

Vil stood in a beautiful purple sparkly suit, a silk scarf loosely wrapped around him, ruffles and embroidery covered the ensemble. It definitely was fancy.

“Rook is taking me to a new restaurant tonight! He said to wear my fanciest outfit, so I scrounged up this old thing.” Vil smiled slightly as he spoke of his date tonight.

“Remind me how you two met? When he insulted your theater performance your first year? Or when he flirted with your arch nemesis, Neige something?” Vil flicks his hair as he saunters out, nose in the air at the teasing remark.

Malleus chuckles as he finishes drying his hair, sitting at his own desk to grab the lotion Vil has forced him to start wearing. Even if he doesn’t think he needs it, Malleus’s skin hasn't been this soft before, nor this healthy. He sighs softly as he rubs the light scented cream into his skin and glances at the picture of his parents. His mother and father beaming at the camera, his father with a protective hand over his mother’s heavily pregnant belly as she wears his father’s uniform hat. He smiles as he starts to speak to the picture, telling his parents of his day, the score, how he won the game, ect. He never would do this infront of Vil, but it’s comforting to feel he could speak to them somehow.

Malleus finished recounting his day, and started to get ready for bed, making sure to unfold and place his fuzzy gargoyle blanket out neatly over his duvet. It’s the warmest thing he owns, and as someone who runs cold, he never slept without it. Though as he spread it out to get rid of the wrinkles, his lanky arms knocked over the picture of his parents on his desk, causing a domino effect of the vicarious stacks of papers and books to scatter.

He sighs as he picks up his desk, making sure his parents were safely settled before he started on anything else. Homework, study materials, his schedule, the team's schedule, and probably some of Vil’s paperwork were all there. Lilia has told him time and time again to start using technology to at least save some trees but he found comfort in the paperwork. Having a solid memory that could never leave him. He’s been left so often, physical reminders were nice.

The smell of coffee and pastries permeated the air, and light chatter would make this cafe comforting and calming if not for the paper that had come out that day. The newspaper crinkles lightly as Leona clenches his fist around it. The score stared at him, stabbing him in the gut each time he saw the picture underneath. It was honestly a good picture, Leona mid-leap to stop the ball, and Malleus sending it in a graceful manner to the goal. A slight bit of Epel trying to cover the goal is seen as well, the ball heading towards Epel at frightening speed.

Falena tried to comfort his brother, though Leona just got more mad at the pats on the back than anything. “I honestly am so impressed! Malleus is a formidable foe! The fact the score was so close is so impressive!”

Leona groans as he takes the fussy babe from Falena’s wife, Nadia. It was comforting to have the heated weight in his lap, even if Cheka was pulling on his braids a bit roughly. The little one’s “Unca! Unca!” Made him feel a bit better. If he could just spend time alone with the kid, he would feel better, but he wasn’t alone.

Nadia and Falena both placed a hand on the younger shoulders, “You’ll get him next time” and “Next time you will win, I’m sure of it” echoing in his ears, except next time never comes.

Across the cafe, sat Malleus, staring at his grandmother’s fancy cursive writing. Busy schedule, so sorry, sending love. His shoulders slumped as if the wait for this letter took all of his energy, depression came off the man in waves.

“You know being the CEO of Draconia Banks is rough, and they’re opening a new branch. She was nice enough to send a handwritten letter at least!” Lilia chirped over his hot chocolate that he was dipping his tuna melt into. If Malleus wasn’t so upset, he would be gagging watching his friend eat it.

“I know, Lilia,” he sighs, catching himself starting to slump, he sits up straighter, squaring his shoulders, and raising his chin. Sitting as a “Draconia should” his grandmother whispered from his memories. Behave, sit up straight, keep your feelings hidden, as a Draconia should.

“Besides, you’ve got next time for her to come!” Lilia’s words echoed in his ears, as well as the slurp of his hot chocolate, except next time never comes.

After leaving the cafe, Malleus ended up finishing a project for class, having to answer questions about the game from readers and fans, and being forced to watch Lilia eat marshmallows and pickles for supper, Malleus was ready to just crawl into bed. Forget the homework due tomorrow, he could finish it in the morning, maybe.

Turning the corner to his dorm, he saw a strange sight. There was a sock on the doorknob. Vil was never careless like this. Malleus carefully extracts the sock and tries the door, locked.

He lightly bangs his head against the door as he extracts his cellphone. Lilia may still be awake, as he did enjoy gaming the night away. He presses the call button, no answer. He tries a second and third time before accepting that Lilia would be of no help tonight. Sebek and Silver, the only other teammates that actually were nice to him, were both a year or two younger and in different dorm houses. Most of Malleus’s peers found him to be a bit much, or were intimidated by his family name. He knew of one person who wasn’t intimidated at least.

“Well, well, well, look what the lizard dragged in.” Leona snarks as he leans against his dorm’s doorframe. “What do you want?”

Malleus bites his tongue at the lizard comment, he never did understand it. “May I please have a place to sleep? My roommate locked me out.” He leaves out the sock part.

“Did they finally wise up to your horrible personality? Or couldn’t handle the sight of you? OH! Let me guess…”

“None of the above Kingscholar! It was a miscommunication!”

“Poor Lizard brain got into a fight? Come crawling for help?”

“I swear, Kingscholar why I…”

The door next to the two slams open, causing them to both jump. A very short, very angry boy enters the hallway. His face was almost as red as his hair, “Some of us are trying to study and would APPRECIATE it if SOME OF US could KEEP IT DOWN!” The boy’s grey eyes pierced both of the men.

“Whatever, get in,” Leona grumbles, pulling Malleus inside, “just to keep the tea pot quiet.”

Malleus glances around the room as he is dragged inside, a few pieces of clothing here and there, a cork board that has more childlike scribbles on it than actual paperwork, and many pictures. The scribbles are mostly using yellow with some reds and oranges, and it seems to be of some family, maybe? It’s quite abstract if nothing else. The pictures are just as sweet, many family pictures of fun activities, mainly of two young boys. One with fiery red hair, the other a muted brown. Piggy back rides, sports games, but the pictures dwindle as they both age, until a tiny baby with a shock of red hair starts to show up. The picture that stands out the most seems to be a professional family photo. The two boys on either side of their father, the smaller brunette holding a stuffed lion toy tightly in one hand, the other clinging to his elder brother. Said toy, though worse for wear, is sitting sweetly at the head of the bed, which Leona quickly shoves under the rumpled covers as if to hide it.

“I didn’t take you for an abstract artist, though I would expect this level from someone much younger than yourself.” Malleus tries to start the conversation, awkwardly changing into the too short red and yellow pajamas that were thrown at him.

Leona turns with a snarl, “Cheka is a better artist at two than you are now, Lizard breath!” he carefully pulls a tack out and takes one of the pictures, “This is almost a perfect rendition of the last family holiday we had together.” He points at the darker, larger blob of a figure. “This is clearly me and this,” he points to the smaller red and yellow blob seemingly on top of the darker blob, “is him enjoying the game of piggy back!” Malleus zones out a bit as Leona carefully places the picture back before grabbing another and starts to explain it again. Each picture he becomes more subdued, and softer. Petting the smaller red and yellow blob sometime.

“Well,” Malleus finally interjects, “they are quite good for a two year old.” Leona huffs at that and just throws a spare blanket and pillow at the man.

“You get the floor, be grateful.” he snaps before he turns the lights out, the soft glow from the outside street light allowing them both to see just enough to get to their respective places. Leona curled up in bed, and Malleus laid out across the floor.

The silence between the two is stifling, until Malleus cant take it and speaks “How is your goal keeper? The small purple haired one?”

“Epel, he's fine. He's a tough kid, and bounces back quickly.” Leona answers, before grinning to himself, “How's your goal keeper? The green haired crybaby?”

“Sebek! He is just a first year student but has so much promise! I am excited to see how far he will go” Malleus starts, and before Leona can interject to stop him, “He is a bit emotional but if he can learn to harness it he will be an amazing player. His family all came to see the game, and it was so impressive to see how much he is loved.”

Leona lets Malleus go on for awhile, until a lull allows him to finally get a word in, “Sebek’s family sounds nice.”

“What do you mean?”

Silence.

After a few beats, Malleus allows the dark night and soft glow of the light to allow him to open up a bit. “I wish I had a family like Sebek. My father passed away before I was born.” If Leona was paying attention, he wasn’t showing it, “He was a part of the military, I don’t know the details, but his remains came back a hero at least. My mother nearly died of heartbreak with me alongside her, but my grandmother says she pulled herself together long enough to have me. She passed away shortly after though.”

Leona finally shows interest, turning to face Malleus as he continues, “I know my grandmother loves me, but it must be difficult to see the person who took her daughter away from here everyday.”

The silence stretches again until it became too unbearable for Leona, “My mum passed when I was a baby too. She had apparently had a complicated pregnancy, and I nearly died alongside her.”

It was Malleus’s turn to face the other, though Leona was staring pointedly at the ceiling, “My dad would say how sometimes he wishes I did, so he wouldn’t have to see me. Falena was as helpful as any brother could be, but we were both kids. We didn’t know what we were doing, or how to deal with life, or loss.” A soft sigh, and the quietest, “Maybe I should have died with her, would have been easier on Falena at least,” was heard. Malleus didn’t comment on it.

Eventually the silence returned, but Malleus wasn’t going to let the conversation go quite yet. “Do you want kids?” he asked, staring at the ceiling alongside Leona.

“Where’s this question coming from? You ask whoever your dating that, not your rival.”

“I do, I want several.” Malleus closes his eyes, and if he focused real hard he could almost hear children giggling, “I was always lonely as a kid, I don’t want my own children to ever feel that.”

“Didn’t ask for the trauma dump,” Leona scoffs, ignoring his own past speech of his family.

“I think we are both still as lonely as we were as children, Leona.”

Leona’s eyes widened, it was the first time Malleus had used his actual name and not Kingscholar. Having enough of the emotional vulnerability he threw another pillow at Malleus, “Go to sleep.” Malleus let out a small “wha-” as the pillow landed on his face. At Least that let Leona go to sleep with a small smile and his lion plushie protectively in his arms.

The next morning was silent between the two, Malleus changing from the borrowed pajamas into his own clothes again before leaving, nodding apologetically to the “Tea Pot” as Leona called the short red head as he passed. The walk back to his own room felt warm, strangely. Malleus was usually lonely and cold in the morning. Maybe he should start sleeping on the floor of his dorm room, it seemed to help him sleep a bit last night.

He made sure to knock on the door before entering, hoping to not see Rook or Vil indecent. Thankfully they were both fully clothed, and speaking around Vil’s vanity as he got ready for the day. Rook looked up from watching Vil do his hundred step skin care routine to smile at Malleus.

“Desole about last night Monsieur Dragon! I hope you slept well either way.” Rook grinned up at his peer, before glancing down. Bright yellow peeking out from under his slightly wrinkled dress pants. Rook’s eyes met Vil’s, both smirking in knowing.

(Authors notes: I tried to pull in some parallels between the two at the cafe, and with the talk of their families. As well as do some environmental story telling with their rooms. Malleus’s desk is a mess to link to how he can’t let things go, such as the papers, and Leona’s is to show how he really does love his brother and nephew, just has bad feelings from his father (who I expect fell into a depression after the passing of his wife) some extra info that didn’t get into the fic! Vil is a part time model, and is studying chemistry, hoping to start his own cosmetic brand. Rook is an archeology student with an interest in ancient writings. Riddle is a pre med student but thinking of changing to law. Malleus is a financial student to take over the bank his family owns, but he really loves architecture. Leona is studying politics, as he is expected to help his brother since the kingscholars are all politicians. Falena is Govener, and Nadia is a lawyer, so Leona watches Cheka a lot. Cheka accidentally called Leona daddy before Falena, but Leona has kept that secret. Lilia is going for teaching, and is older than he looks by alot.)

[heyyallitsbethfanfic]

just a feeling

A party of three soared through the skies of Alfheim Online, a streak of midnight shadow, a splash of lemon lime, and a loosely trailing neon green streak. It’d been a long day for them all, but the enby in black looked like they were still filled with fire for fighting, but chose to head back to town with their friends regardless.

When they reached an inn back in Sylph Territory the short boy with even shorter green hair prepped to log out, flashing a quick goodbye to his quest party, but before he could log out, he was met with the unfamiliar feeling of his hair being tossled by the eldest member of their party, Kirito.

Kirito smirked down at him.

“Great work out there today Recon, me and Leafa are lucky ta have ya on our team. Have a nice night.”

The boy flushed red and fumbled with the logout button.

The Navigation Pixie in their pocket climbed out of Kirito’s breast pocket and waved a goodbye as well.

As Recon’s model faded into a white light, Kirito sauntered back over to their little sister Leafa.

“You picked a good guy as your first boyfriend Sugu~” Kirito teased.

“UGH! It’s not like that at all- he’s just a friend from school, you know that!”

“Oh really? He really seems head over heels for you, just figured you were hiding him from your mean big bro who wants to protect you from all the mean guys.” Kirito tussled the hair of Leafa, who promptly melted to their touch, flustered and upset.

“Idiot… if you really wanted to protect me you would keep Klein away-”

“And I do, any time he looks in your direction, Excalibur meets his neck haha.” Kirito was quite amused at themself.

“What was up with that though big bro? Playing with Recon like that- I didn’t know you swung that way- What would Asuna think?” Leafa smirked up at Kirito, expecting a flustered mess in response, but instead she was met with her big sibling just smiling and softly laughing.

“Gosh you really do like him huh? Jeez big bro you could do way better ya know-”

Kirito nearly broke down laughing.

“Nono- jeez Sugu, oblivious as ever huh?”

“Coming from you of all people?”

“Point. That’s how you know it’s an insult.”

Leafa huffed to herself.

“Seriously sis? You never noticed that Asuna and Yuuki spend a lot of time alone?”

Leafa broke out of Kirito’s grasp and looked to him with wide eyes.

“W-what?!?! Asuna is cheating? And YOU KNOW???”

“Jeez, you girls always jump to the worst conclusions dontcha? Cmhere and sit, lets chat.”

Kirito flopped down on the couch in the inn room they were sharing, patting the cushion beside them. Leafa sat down beside him, looking at them expectantly.

“Yuuki and Asuna aren’t doing anything I don’t know about. Asuna is bisexual, and it doesn’t change how I feel about her at all, and I’m okay with her experimenting. She’s the best girl in the world, of course she’s gonna have people falling head over heels for her.”

Leafa pouted next to Kirito. Kirito stiffened up in their seat and patted her head.

“Best girl in the world, other than my darling little sister of course- haha”

Leafa looked at her big sibling with an annoyed smile. “That’s better.”

“Sugu, I’m gonna accept Asuna nomatter her sexuality, you know that right? People who love eachother accept eachother. Both you and Asuna have been nothing but supportive as I’ve been working on how I feel about my own gender.”

“Y-yeah of course, you’re family, I’m gonna accept you nomatter who you are, my big bro, my big sis, or my big sibling.”

“And I love you for that Sugu.”

Kirito patted the head of their sister.

“But! That doesn’t mean you have to let your wife go around throwing herself at anyone who wants her!”

“Sugu you know it’s not like that at all. Asuna and I are just trying a more open thing. We still love eachother, and nobody is gonna come and be a homewrecker in our marriage. But we both know we have a lot of love to give, and we figured we might as well share it while we can. Those years in SAO made me realize you have to love as much as you can while you can.”

Kirito squeezed Leafa’s hand in theirs.

“I was so scared of dying in Sword Art Online and never getting to tell you I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for big bro… It’s okay now, we’re back together as family again. And you’ve done more than enough to make up for it.”

“Thank you Sugu.” Kirito pulled Leafa into a hug, and her heart fluttered, still unsure of her own feelings now.

“But yeah, Asuna had me thinking about my sexuality recently. I’ve only really ever been attracted to girls, so I wasn’t really sure what I was. But hey, maybe I haven’t met the guy, one day a knight in shining armor may come and save me, with his dreamy eyes and soft blonde hair and carry me away with a bouquet of blue roses~”

“Well big bro after your display with Recon and an image that will never leave my brain, I think we can safely say you aren’t straight.”

The pair laughed.

“But really Kazuto? Recon? You’ve got like 10 supermodels following you around, including two literal idols, and you pick RECON? You can do much better.”

“Hey, his avatar in game may be… unique to put it kindly, but I’ve seen you two hang out in person. He’s cute in like. A dorky way.”

“Bleh. Maybe I should dress you up in my clothes and make you go on a date with him in my place.”

“I’ll take you up on the clothes offer, but he’s all yours. I don’t really find him attractive, I just know that I prefer dorks over like. Buff guys.”

“Oh really, after Sinon showed footage of you in GGO flirting at the bar, you could’ve fooled me…”

Kirito had an uneasy grin with a slight blush. “Nah. That was mainly to fluster Sinon. And to taunt the guys, since it’s easy and fun, which is why I did it to Recon.”

“Oh so you’re being a slut for attention?”

“Ouch.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Well, if I wanna learn more about my sexuality, gotta figure out how it feels right? Regardless, like, on a surface level I can say that Klein and Agil are like, conventionally attractive. But they don’t really do much for me. I mean, to be fair, they are like big brothers to me, and after all, what weirdo would fall in love with their big brother.”

Kirito booped Leafa’s nose, teasing her.

“Dick…” she grumbled out under her breath.

“Oh? Is that an insult or a request?” Kirito laughed at their own joke as Leafa repeatedly hit them with a throw pillow that was laying on the couch.

[whumpyreader]

Part Nine: The Púca

TW: just a trauma professional writing about trauma *eye roll*

When Louie woke next, Aurora had left his side. A pile of dried fish and green apples stared him in the face. How long had it been since he ate? He pushed himself onto his elbows and swept the food near his chest with his forearm. He tore out a chunk of apple, his taste buds exploding with the sweetness and reminding his stomach that he was, indeed, ravenous. The rest of the food was shoved into his mouth, as much as he could until he was forced to chew and swallow before shoving more in. His throat was parched and, once the food had disappeared, Louie crawled to the bank of the brook and stuck his head in.

With his belly sloshing with food and water, Louie pushed to his feet, keeping the blanket draped over him. He found his clothes and boots in the cave as well as his furs, now washed from any bloodstain. He pulled his clothes back on and sat down.

Aurora was nowhere to be seen.

But a rabbit was. A terrifyingly enormous rabbit with glowing red eyes and pitch-black hair. Its fur was scraggly and it sat on its haunches, nearly as large as Louie was.

Louie was going to be sick.

“Oh, you are not one for fun, eh?” The rabbit monster morphed into a human man.

Louie must have backpedaled because he now sat against the cave's wall, holding his thumping heart with one hand.

“I thought you would recognize me. Don't all humans know a púca?”

The man now stood and Louie nearly lost his mind to the terror. He screamed, ducking under his arms.

“What is the matter?” Aurora’s voice rang out.

Louie melted into a sob, worshipping her with relief in his eyes. “You left.”

“Only for a moment.”

“Who-who is,” Louie risked a glance at the human that stood nearby with his hands up in surrender. “What is that?”

Aurora stifled a pent-up breath. “Rupert. He is an old friend. I warned him to be gentle but…púcas are mischievous by nature.”

“A púca?”

“Are slaves not taught anything?”

Louie's idiocy was showing. He dropped his head, resolved to not dig a deeper hole for himself.

“Actually, they're not.” It was the púca’s voice this time, deep with sorrow. “I did not know you were a slave.”

“Not anymore,” Aurora stated. “Although we have a long way to go to make him human again.”

Louie's head shot up. “What?”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “You have given up. I feel it on your soul. Humans are stubborn by nature. They thrive where no other mammals can and they do it with naked skins and only two feet. Against all odds, humans thrive. You gave that up, Louie.”

By the moment, Louie was sounding more and more like a waste of air.

“Cheer up, human man. I have returned with good news. There is a way to make you whole again.”

Louie didn't want to be whole. He wanted to sleep. “Why is that important?” he huffed.

“Forgive me, I forgot,” Aurora softened. “Humans need choices. I did not make it clear that this was but a choice.” At his silence, Aurora continued, “Either you can come with me. I must go regardless of your decision. Or you can stay here. If you stay, you can sleep and eat as much as you want. If you come, there is a way to ignite your healed magic and it can heal you.”

“My magic is for healing?”

“Not directly, no. But it broke in your youth and once ignited it can heal your soul.”

Louie had been so focused on getting enough nutrients and rest for the last twenty years that it seemed pointless to heal a soul. What good was a soul anyway?

“Think on it,” Aurora decided. “Your screams interrupted me. I must get back to my work. I will return in a while.”

Louie was left with this Rupert who smiled sheepishly at him and waved.

“May I sit with you?”

If Aurora trusted the bunny then Louie had no qualls. “Yes.”

Rupert's body was warm against Louie's flank. “I've lived with your kind my entire life. Six hundred years now? My, how time flies.”

Louie folded his legs and just listened.

“I understand humans. Aurora does not understand.”

“What?”

“She does not understand why a human would want to live with a broken soul. She does not understand that that too is stubbornness.”

“Oh?”

“Forgive my forwardness but I have been around humans longer than you have. A human’s greatest danger is also what keeps them safe.”

“What is that?”

“Community. Community has been used against you and your stubbornness…I call it your will to thrive, is to bear the load and live one more day. You are more stubborn than a human in good community can understand. And Aurora, well, when she is being attacked, she has powers to make others submit. But when you are the one submitting, you can only change what is inside of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think Aurora has a point. You are too used to living with a broken soul. It's making you blind to what you truly want. Food and rest are not the only things a human needs.”

“What must I do to fix my soul?”

“Your soul will fix itself. All you have to do is give it what it needs.”

“What does it need?”

Rupert smiled and his eerie smile nearly touched his ears. “A better story.”

…

“I’ll come with you.”

The corner of Aurora’s lip twitched. “What did Rupert say to you?”

“On one condition though,” he continued, ignoring her question.

“Which is?”

“You give me one reason why fixing a broken soul is worth it.”

Her eyes widened momentarily before resuming to her normal, hardened face. “I can only speak from my experience.”

“That is alright.”

“Well, there is more to life than survival. Do you know what that is like?”

Louie did. “My childhood. Except, all my family is dead. There is no one waiting for me.”

“Then we shall find you family, if that is what you are wanting.”

Was that all he was wanting? Louie hadn’t had much time to ponder on what he longed for.

“Human man, you have much to learn about yourself. You would be a fool to stay here.”

It was what he had concluded as well. “What is it we are going to do?”

Aurora brightened. “Ah, not a fool after all. We are going back to the clan that sent you on this mission. I have unfinished business and you might be useful.”

He hoped so. It was better than staying in the cave alone.

“Ah, your trusty steed.”

Louie turned to see what Aurora now looked at and nearly gagged.

Rupert was now a horse, eyes glowing red, black hair too long to be normal, and his snout bearing his awful smile.

“I will travel in my storm. You, Louie, will ride this horse.”

Louie wanted anything but.

“I will meet you there.” With that, Aurora disappeared into the snow above. Like melting butter, the circle of warmth faded away as if it had been nothing but a dream.

The horse was slightly deformed, its belly too small and its ribs jutting out. It whipped its tail and smiled at Louie. “Aurora packed you this.” It twitched its back where a saddle pack was thrown over. “Full of apples and dried fish. Ready?”

Rupert was going to haunt Louie’s dreams for the rest of his life. He gripped the mangy mane and threw himself onto the beast. The body beneath was hot and fuzzy and Louie found himself wanting to vomit again.

“Hold on, human.”

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xx1.d: The Jester, as he laid flat unconscious on the brick path still located deep within The Sewer ... She had jet-black hair tied up in a ponytail. Ashen skin. A piercing through the tip of her nose just above her nostrils, with a small little chain wrapping over her nose connecting each side. And glowing brown hazel eyes with a light splash of green rounding her outer pupils as to outline the dangers of looking past the event horizon into the black hole darkness that was the pupils themselves. Soul stealers they were. You could see straight into her soul and deeper intentions immediately, especially with the shadow of her worried expression … she was … an Apparition … I think here to haunt me again, to remind me … that I needed to live some more … to suffer some more … because I’ve yet to meet the person I was supposed to all along, and make their path easier … to make life better. I wake fully and she says “Are you ok? Can you hear and understand me clearly?” Yes … I feel ok and can hear you perfectly. “Thank god *phew* I honestly thought you were gonna die in front of me, and that scared the shit out of me!” sorry … I have a tendency to get myself injured, and have an extreme lack of self-preservation that infrequently kicks in, most times only in my final moments. “Oh god … you know what you are?” what? “An idiot!” A laugh was forced out of me … because in truth, it was a hilarious thing to say to someone who just nearly died … and because, it was the holy truth that was held oh so self-evidently. I replied. Yeah … that’s fair to say about me regardless of my position in life past or present. "I'd assume the future too?" Probably yeah. I’m kind of a problem just so you know, generally a disaster. As I rested my head on her lap looking up at her. “What do you mean?” she giggled. I just kind of bring that bad mojo to people around me … I think if a god exists, he’s been trying to kill me for years and just fucking it up everytime because he's just bad at it or something, and that somehow gets the people surrounding me hit with stray lightning bolts of doom … the damn big loser. Me one billion wins … God … fuckin negative points! “You seem lost, and like you know more than you’re supposed to all at the same time” exactly! … you get it. What'd you do to my friend over there? "Kicked him in the head" Woah! Really? That's fuckin dope. "Haha yeah … DOPE" … you makin fun of me? "Me!? … no I'd never … ever … again" HA ok we'll see about that. "Hehe, are we meeting again?" Well yeah of course … I'm a magnet for problems. "HOHO Woah OK! Haha … well nice to meet you, faulty lightning rod. I'm Lily." I laid there in shock and said … Lily huh? I knew someone named Lily once … she was special. "Well … I like to think I'm special … I mean … look at me!" She said while pushing her hair over her shoulder with her hand in a glamorous style while showing she was totally full of herself. I see that ha, and I love that … [To Be Continued]

[cerebrumrott]

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers and Newly Dateables x MC

Synopsis: Where their pact marks would be and how they would appear...

Lucifer

His mark would appear on your throat. Below the chin and Above the adams apple is where the sigil lies but the patterns and runes that circle it seem to trickle down your throat to your collar bones. Some even tracing up along the under side of your jaw.

You would know the mark appeared here because its his favorite part of you. He would often hide his face into your neck after a stressful day kissing along your jaw, and breathing in your scent.

It's also where his hand would most often lay, whether he be mindlessly tracing patterns into your skin, tipping your face up to his for a kiss, or holding you in place for him.

The mark is gorgeous and intricate. In direct light it appears to be a plain black though every so often it will catch the light just so to reveal the color beneath. A dazzling and heavenly blue.

When your pact mark appears he can barely keep his hands to himself. Most often when passing one another is RAD he will stop you just to take a moment to admire the mark before ushering you on your way smirking as he warns you not to be late.

Mammon

His mark will appear on the back of the neck where the skull meets the spine. Its a small and tight circle almost barely noticeable with it being faded into your hair line.

He is furious at first demanding to know why his mark is so small compared to the others and why its in such a hard to see place. He proceeds to pout to himself muttering about why it couldnt be somewhere obvious like your eyes or better yet in the middle of your forehead!

Once that was out of his system he began to truly appreciate the pact mark. He was the closest to your mind because he knew what you were really thinking sometimes without you even needing to say it. He often finds his hand coming to subconsciously rest on the back of your neck petting and massaging the mark as it also soothed him. Sometimes when he is thinking too hard he will start aggressively petting your head. It was funny the first time but the look your teacher gave you when Mammon accidentally started petting you in the middle of class was less so.

Whenever you wear hoodies or scarves he doesn't hesitate to walk up behind you and pull your hood down saying its disrespectful to cover up his pact mark and that you should be displaying it to the world. One time you shaved out a little triangle at the base of your hair line to fully expose the mark and with your hair tied up high. Mammon was just beaming with pride and joy following behind you like a love sick puppy just to stare at his mark.

Leviathan

When you made a pact with Levi you actually couldnt find it for weeks. You had cheeked every inch of your skin for a mark big or small but couldn't find anything.

That was until one day while hanging out with Levi you burnt the roof of your mouth so bad you thought the skin was peeling off. Levi worried used the flashlight on his phone to look in your mouth and let out of yelp of surprise at what he found. You also panicked thinking your mouth was now beyond saving from an all too hot bite of noodles.

No instead he had found where his pact mark lied. On the roof of your mouth was a relatively large and well detailed sigil and its surrounding runes. Interwoven between these runes were two serpents. The heads of each snake ending by your front canines the tails vanishing where your wisdom teeth should be.

It took you both weeks just to find the mark and even more so discussing why it would ever appear in such an odd place. It was one night during a TSL binge that it hit you. Levi hates touching but he loves talking with you. So of course his mark would have something to do with your mouth and since a mark can't be broken it couldnt go on your lips or near them.

At this Levi brings up the point of why not the tongue then? To that you counter its because he is a shut in and never sees the light of day. You had meant it as a joke but the dawning look on his face made you realize that is exactly why it was on the roof of your mouth.

When he kisses you he likes to drag his tongue over the mark the sensation sending sparks through his body.

Satan

His mark would appear on your outer thigh. This is where his hand would always fall when you both read together in the afternoons, or when you would sit at the table beside each other.

The mark itself is made up of sharp and bold lines that take up a majority of your leg reaching down to your knee and all the way up to your hip. The center of the mark is a deep forest green that fades away into a black. Similar to Lucifer's it too has a duo chrome effect where in certain lighting a vivid green can be seen glittering through the patterns and runes of the mark.

Satan will often find himself staring at you legs throughout the day envisioning the mark beneath connecting the two of you together. Many days he doesn't even attempt to hide his blatant stares as he longs to run his hands over the mark unhindered by cloth. Perhaps later when the two of you are back at home...

Asmodeus

His mark lies above your sternum and your heart. Asmodeus often jokes that it means you are hopelessly in love with him but the truth is that he is the one hopelessly in love. The many nights before you had made your pact where he would just dream of you. His love was not that of lust but of true and honest emotion the likes he had never felt before.

His mark is small, tightly packed in the space on the chest with the most minuscule and delicate details. The shapes and runes take on an appearance akin to that of a rose bush. Beautiful blossoms encased in a myriad of thorns protecting and guarding what lies beneath.

The thorns and vines interlaced with Asmodeus' pact mark when looked at from afar takes the shape of a heart matching the marks on his own skin.

Every time he sees the petals of his mark peeking out from a shirt of yours he can't help the way his heart fills and nearly weeps in happiness. While others may try to claim he is just oogling at your chest you both know its much more than that. Its much deeper than any of that.

Beelzebub

His pact mark is on your dominant hand. He had laughed at the time when it appeared saying it was because he couldn't think of anywhere else to place it but you both knew that demons don't choose where a pact forms. It appears in a place of significance to the both of them.

It took a week before you made the connections as to why it was your dominant hand that it appeared on. Everytime you took a drink or ate you would catch a glimpse of Beels large and chunky pact mark curling over the back of your hand and over your knuckles almost trickling down your fingers. You couldn't help but laugh almost choking on your food at the time as everyone at the table looked to you like you were mad.

Beel was all smiles as you told him about your discovery his cheeks flustered red as he too realized that was indeed a great reason as to why it might appear there. In all honesty he had been truly as clueless as you as to why it was your hand but now. Now it made perfect sense and he loved it so so much.

Beel loves his pact mark with you so much he will often just take your hand in his and press a soft kiss to your knuckles, or when he is feeling mischievous he will take your hand and drag a long lick up your arm before commenting on how delicious you are.

Belphegor

Belphegors mark forms on your non-dominant hand parallel to his twins. Though rather than drift down over the knuckles it instead crawls up the arm towards the elbow. Thin and curling lines make out the shapes of clouds that encircle the runes and sigil of his pact.

You both knew why his mark appeared here and it wasn't simply to mirror his twin much to Belphie's embarrassment. He always held your hand when he napped. It got to the point he couldnt sleep if you weren't holding his hand or petting his hair.

With your mark now on full display he doesn't even attempt to hide his need to hold your hand just walking up to you and taking it into his own even when not looking for a quick nap.

Long after you have gone to bed at night he will crack an eye open making sure you really are out for the night before carefully sitting up to take your hand into his and trace over the patterns there. You most likely would never notice but when his mark hit the moonlight just so. Brilliant white speckles like stars could be seen mixed among the markings.

Interlacing your fingers together Belphegor brings your knuckles to his lips falling asleep with your hand cradled to his face hoping to wake up still holding you.

Bonus:

Diavolo

His mark is the biggest out of all the demons. Shocker. The sigil and runes sit between your shoulder blades and the massive and intricate detailing the sprout outwards from that trails upwards and over yours shoulders and down your sides like a hug from behind. In the light it has a golden shimmer to it giving it a regal apperance.

If you have a pact with Barbatos it connects to his encircling your entire back and upper legs.

The mark appears where it does because that's where his hand is just drawn to rest on you. When he hugs you it presses there to draw you in closer, When guiding you around the castle he places it there when leading you through a door way and into another, even when just standing beside you his hand drifts to settle there.

When the pact mark appears it becomes his favorite place to kiss. Often walking up behind you and leaning down to press a quick kiss to the space regardless of the clothing in the way before smiling at you happily.

Barbatos

His mark appears on your lower back. The sigil and the runes themselves and small and concentrated into your lower back. Though the curling and spiraling patterns that extend outwards from it cover most of your lower back trailing up your spine. It even extends out and down the back of your thighs only stopping when it reaches the back of your knees.

The mark appears pure black to the naked eye but to those with magical capabilities it is a sparkling mixture of metallic blacks and sparkling blues.

If you have a pact with Diavolo the two pacts seem to blend together creating a dazzling shimmering affect of the gold and the blue/black.

He often takes the time just to appreciate the beauty of your pact mark. Asking in a soft voice before pushing up the back of your shirt to run a gloved hand carefully over the lines that trail along your spine and to your lower back.

When it is just the two of you he will place his hand on your lower back and rub small circles against the place where the mark lies reassuringly.

[astra-stellaris-a]

@samuraiisms​ // -----------------

Sometimes Atria wondered what she was doing with the elaborate plans she had, the ambition, the drive, but mostly it was just a frustration to be turned away at every front due to things outside of her control. Things outside of the clan didn’t work the same as internal matters. There, power ruled all.

It started when her grandmother died when she was fifteen. The Kurokawa fell into her hands and they flourished under her guidance, amassing money and reputation quickly, regardless of the situation with her uncles several years prior. She fell into a rhythm, running the clan, okaying things, making sure they were doing well while dealing with the Stellaris.

And the two were day and night. Kurokawa were generally emotional, moreso than the average person and the Stellaris--well, they weren’t. Getting a reaction out of them was like trying to get blood out of a turnip.

And then, her father died short of her twenty-fourth birthday. It had taken nearly six months to go through his things, to grieve, even though she still felt the pang of loss every time she saw lavender, every time she saw the moon and stars. It was an ever-present ache that would get better with time. However, she found something--marriage contracts.

Some were from wind, some from fire, from every single land--daimyo’s youngest sons, vying for her hand in marriage. The stipulations, that she would have to carry a child within the first year, that she would be nothing but an incubator, made her hair spark. The first scroll she’d read burst into flame. The second had been thrown through a window--and the third? Well, it’s scorched remains made good kindling for the kitchen stove.

The only saving grace was her father’s records, the copies of the letters he’d sent denying them in no uncertain terms. There were two, that were passable. One, from the land of iron, and the other, from the land of water. Her family would be forced into a shinobi’s life with the land of water, the scroll read. Atria wasn’t ready for that, their family wasn’t ready for that.

And so, she penned the land of iron in her signature green ink, her calligraphy flowing like a heavy rain down the page.

Her stipulations were simple:

none of her family were to become shinobi

she would not have to contractually bear an heir

station would not matter in choice

the person must be dedicated, ambitious and driven

they must truly care for their people

she must be able to pass down her family’s techniques

They were bullet-pointed, quick, to the point, with no flowery words or text to contradict her harshness.

_________________________________

She’d turned twenty-five before everything panned out, and at the beginning of spring, they were to move, to meet her soon-to-be husband. Her letters were brisk, heavy and uncompromising, which was in contrast with her quiet, reserved, kind nature. As a female of that age, she had to be that way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made it as far as she did.

The day to meet him arrived. She dressed in not her finest clothes, but not the ones she would wear at home when there was nothing to do. Her hair was left down, it’s inky black length calling of the river that was her grandmother’s last name. And her swords were at her hip, the hilt shining as if they were just made. She had selected her younger brother, three years her junior, and her cousin and protector, Sayuri to accompany her. They would stay out of the way and provide a discerning eye.

She was anxious. 

For such a short person, she was an imposing figure. Her beauty would have been coveted and hidden behind walls with other people, just for royalty. But she didn’t want that--she wanted to live, she wanted a life that would allow her to be her. Her beauty was in her vibrancy, her drive, her kindness, and she would die before she allowed it to wither away as someone’s prized possession.

Her eyes lit against his own and she inclined her head. “My soon-to-be husband. Tell me of your people. And tell me of yourself, your ambitions. Tell me everything.” Her head tilted up, her gaze molten steel. “If you are honest, just and ambitious, I will be your partner.” 

Not just a wife. An equal.

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.