#SEE I HAVE VANISHED YET I STILL SING SEE I HAVE VANISHED YET I STILL LAUGH

[ghoulbrain]

Saddle Up, Sweetheart

18+ 3k ghoul x f!reader. cunnilingus/face sitting, overstim, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie. gif credit. prompt list. written for this ask. thank you! 🖤

The Ghoul—Cooper, as you know him now—does not make himself an easy man to get to know. He was harsh with you from the start, one of the crankiest old bastards you’ve ever met. An accomplishment, given your life in the slums. He’s dismissive, angry that you even want to know him, and downright mean most days.

And yet you became fascinated with him.

It was ages before you were able to hold decent conversations, and longer than that before you had a name for him. Still, you keep digging. He intrigues you more than anyone else ever has, and despite his sour attitude, he keeps coming back. 

"You won't like what y'find," he told you one day. You knew then you were wearing him down with your persistence.

"What scares you more: the idea that I won't, or the possibility that I will?" You'd asked. 

He laughed. "Y'don't scare me, sugar."

You smiled. "Maybe I should."

Cooper started to look at you differently from then on. There had been a sense before that he was observing you as something ephemeral, a flower bud he was waiting to see bloom and die away as quickly as you'd appeared. 

Once you made it clear you weren't going anywhere, the invisible walls between you began to fall away. You feel his gaze lingering on you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You watch him in turn, holding his gaze whenever he catches you.

"Eye contact like that'll get'cha killed someday. Predators take it as a challenge," he tells you, adjusting the holster on his thigh.

"Is that what you are?" You ask from where you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You raise your brow, inured to his broody one-liners. "A predator?"

To your surprise, he's the one who closes the distance this time. His footfalls are heavy, his swagger loose. He looms over you, bracing his forearm on the wall behind you. Your heart skips a beat. He rarely ever gets so close.

"I'm the worst kind there is," he says gravely, but you clock his tone for what it is. He's toying with you.

Undeterred, you square your shoulders. "And what kind is that?"

He leans in closer, smelling of oil and gunpowder. "A hungry one," he says, the heat of his breath ghosting your cheek.

Pushing you away hasn't turned you against him. Cornering you won't either. Despite his insistence to the contrary, you're no prey animal. "Well then... I s'pose you ought to have something to eat."

His radiation scarred lips spread slowly into a wicked smile. "Y'offering, sweetcheeks?" He asks, his yellowed teeth parted, poised to take a bite.

You swallow dryly, so keenly aware of the thundering of your own heart, you wonder if he can hear it, too. You tip your head back, jutting your chin out and bringing your lips closer to his.

"You don't scare me, Coop," you whisper, wielding his name like a secret weapon.

He hums, head tilting slowly while his gaze moves down your body in a leisurely calculating sweep. "Well..." He drawls, voice a low rumble from his chest. "Maybe I should."

You're ready for him to do as he's always done and leave you like that, to rile you up and then act as though it was all in your head. You've accepted that Cooper is a man on the run, and he hasn't seen anything in you worth stopping for.

The press of his lips against yours shocks you to your core.

Your arms uncross, hands fumbling to catch hold of his jacket, grabbing him before he can vanish. He responds in kind, cupping your face in the soft worn down leather of his gloves. Your pulse is all the way up in your throat, so wild you’re sure he can taste it when he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

His touch isn’t a gradual thing. He’s upon you all at once, forcing your thighs apart with his knee and slotting his thigh between yours, pressing into you until you start to sing for him, those breathy little noises muffled by his devouring kiss. At your hip, you feel the press of his cock gradually filling out beneath the layers of clothing between you.

After so long without meaningful touch, the onslaught is dizzying. You roll your hips, grinding down on his thigh until you feel your underwear clinging wetly to your skin, an exquisite shiver trilling up and down your spine. His lips feel textured and hardened by his condition, but his tongue is hot and smooth, persistently licking into your mouth, determined to feel, to taste.

That hunger drives him from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering rough kisses that are as much lips as they are teeth along your neck. “S’your last chance, darlin’. Point of no return,” he tells you, voice coarse. His hand slips between your bodies and starts working your pants open. “Won’t be no comin’ back from this. I’ll ruin you.”

That he would have the audacity to warn you away from the door like this after you’ve been knocking and knocking and knocking is almost laughable. You would laugh if you had enough air in your lungs, but he’s kissed it out of you.

“So ruin me,” you tell him breathlessly. He grazes his teeth over your pulse-point in a way that makes your voice hitch. “I want you.”

The rim of his hat brushes your cheek as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, making a raw noise against your skin. “God damn it,” he says, yanking you from the wall so sharply you gasp. He whirls you around, hands fisted in your shirt, kissing you hard while he walks you backwards, towards the noisy heap of springs and fabric you call a bed.

“Y’outta your fuckin’ mind for that,” he grouses, shoving your pants down off your hips. You don’t disagree, You know how terrifying he should be, what his affliction does to him, to his hunger, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing life back into your dull dusty life at the end of the world.

You’re naked by the time he pushes you down onto the bed, standing above you, sunken eyes black with fervor. He unclips the bullet belt strapped across his chest and shrugs out of his coat, tosses his hat up somewhere high on the bed. You start to crawl backwards, but he snatches your ankle and drags you right back to the very edge of the bed.

“Unbuckle me,” he orders, the words all throaty feverish heat that makes your clit throb. You do, eyes flipping back and forth from him to his belt. He watches you all the while, pulling off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the ground. You unbutton his pants next, hands so eager they fumble briefly before you make it to his zipper, the hiss of it coming undone drowned out by the thunder of your pulse in your own ears.

Before you get any further, Cooper catches your wrists and hauls you up to your feet, spinning you around and pulling you down over top of him on the bed. He keeps you steady while you straddle his waist, moving his hands from your wrists to your hips. You start to move back, but he cups your ass and pulls you in the opposite direction.

“Saddle up, sweetheart,” he says, licking his lips. “Y’said for me to have somethin’ t’eat. I intend to.”

Oh fuck.

Nodding hazily, you follow his lead until your knees are on either side of his head, your hands braced on the wall behind your bed.

“C’mon now, relax,” he coaxes, urging you down with his grip on your thighs. You settle most of the way down before he yanks you the rest of it, startling a noise out of you that transitions into a low moan at the molten wet slide of his tongue dragging from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, upon which his lips close down and suck.

The sensation is leagues beyond the amateurish grinding, but that session still left you sensitized. The heat of his mouth is so intense it almost burns. His tongue feels just as unreal, thick and dexterous in the way it works you, swirling repetitive patterns on your clit. He drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the desert, swallowing greedy gulps before sinking his tongue into you, fucking it in and out, coaxing more and more thirst quenching wetness from you.

“Ffffuck, oh my God,” you moan, your hands curling into fists on the wall, sliding until your forearms are braced against it instead, your head hanging between them. You wish you had something to grip, something to dig your nails into as his devil’s tongue builds hot pressure inside of you, swelling sensation toward an inevitable explosion.

Cooper is shameless beneath you, devouring without care for mess or noise. Every so often you feel the graze of his teeth and you buck away from him, but you’re no match for his strength and he keeps you held firmly down, wholly at his mercy despite your positions. 

Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to try and escape anymore, he relinquishes his hold on your hip and brings his fingers between your thighs, teasing where you’re wettest with the tip of his finger. With the way he’s sucking your clit you barely notice the initial touch, but he quickly wrings a gasp out of you by sinking his finger in all the way to the knuckle, crooking it wickedly while he rocks it in and out.

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. He walks you on the knife’s edge of your climax, deftly toeing the line with every slow stroke of his finger and swipe of his tongue. Your stomach clenches up with it, breath catching. He pushes in a second finger, and by the time you feel the third working you open, your legs are shaking uncontrollably. He is feasting on you, humming appreciative little noises between the wet sounds of him eating you out.

A sudden jarring slap to your ass makes your quivering thighs tense up and startles a loud moan out of you. He most definitely smiles against you, fucking you steadily with his fingers.

“You son of a bitch,” you manage to choke out, tears prickling at your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of it all, your breaths growing sharper, more shallow. “I should smother you,” you say, the threat dulled by the thinness of your voice.

He smacks your ass again, harder this time. You decide that’s encouragement to do just that and grind down against his mouth, eagerly meeting every thrust of his fingers until one last good slap tips you over the edge, your orgasm striking you like a bolt of lightning. Your whole body goes tense, and Cooper ruthlessly fucks and licks you through it, sucking on your clit as it pulses and pulses and pulses through what feels like the longest climax of your life.

“Enough,” you moan weakly, pushing yourself from the wall on trembling arms. His fingers have slipped free, but he’s still drinking you down, holding your thighs in a vice grip. You can’t stop shaking, the burn of pleasure beginning to feel like the most exquisite pain. “C-Coop, enough, I can’t–you fucker,” you gasp, jolting in his grip when he nips at your clit.

He finally lets you up, easing you down with two hands firmly on your ass. You slide back until you’re straddling his waist, hands braced on his chest while you catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time, knocking you down into his lap as he sits up. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your own taste into your mouth, giving a throaty little rumble.

“I decide when you’ve had enough,” he says, dropping one hand to work his cock free from his undone pants. “And you’ll remember that you asked for it.”

Each word feels like a spark of electricity. You lift yourself on trembling knees, hands on his shoulders, and he puts his arm around you, drawing you in while you sink down until you feel the thick head of his cock–wet with his own precum–nudging against your spit-soaked pussy.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how good you can take me.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, feel it in the thrum of his touch. You hold his gaze while his cock forces you open in one smooth, frictionless slide, the stretch a dull ache that rapidly ascends into pleasure. He lets you adjust a moment or so before he begins to move, holding your hips steady while he rocks his own, reclining down onto his back.

“Don’t you hold out on me,” you tell him through a shuddered breath, hands behind you, braced on his thighs. “You promised me ruin.”

As sharply as he’d slapped your ass, Cooper gives a hard thrust up, his dull nails biting crescents into your skin, his grip all that keeps you from losing your balance. “One taste and y’already damn spoiled,” he says, planting his boots on your bed–you’ll give him shit for that later–and picking up a brutal pace almost immediately. “C’mon then, sweetheart. Ride me.”

You have no choice but to comply, grabbing hold of what you can of his shirt while he bucks hard under you. Every thrust sparks inside you like the strike of a match, your cunt still sensitive. You can already feel yourself climbing towards another peak. You arch your back, watching him through the haze of your own pleasure. His eyes are dark, his teeth bared. He looks like something wild, like something ready to bite.

“Goddamn, that’s it, y’squeezin’ me fuckin’ good now,” he groans, tipping his head back, watching you bounce on his cock through heavily lidded eyes. “Give it up for me, pretty girl. Show me this is really what you want,” he rambles, his accent growing thicker the closer he gets. You nod along, panting wordlessly, his thrusts knocking sweet little keening noises from your throat. “Go on now, that’s it. Show me how it feels when I make you cum.”

The world around you goes black just before an eruption of white explodes behind your eyelids like stars, your whole body stilling to endure the overwhelming crash of your release, the shock of it rolling out in waves throughout your entire body. You don’t speak, you don’t even breathe, too struck by the magnitude of it. 

Cooper fucks you through every second of it, slurring a litany of feverish nonsense–your name sprinkled within it–until he breaks off into a choked off noise, and in the middle of your euphoria you feel a the rush of his release spilling deep inside you, his body finally stilling under yours.

You sink down onto his chest, panting against the collar of his shirt. He moves his hand along your back, and a distant part of you is caught off guard by how tenderly he sweeps his fingers up the back of your neck. You answer in kind by slipping your fingers just under his collar, fingertips brushing bare skin that’s as gnarled as the rest of him.

The two of you sit in silence for a long while, neither of you willing to break the spell of your afterglow. The entire world feels softer in it, the dull sepia of it tinged with hints of gold. The dust particles floating around you almost seem to sparkle. In any other moment, you’d scold yourself for romanticizing the rotten remains of a dead world that has been so cruel to you, but for just this moment, you let yourself believe that things can be beautiful, too.

You lose yourself to the warmth of his body beneath yours, and the gentle way he traces the slopes of your body with his fingertips. Eventually, Cooper cleans his throat. You ignore it, reluctant to acknowledge him. You know once you do, the moment will be over.

“Y’might wanna get situated with a pack of Radaway soon,” he murmurs, the twang of his voice still heavier than usual. 

Tucked into the crook of his neck, you smile while he still can’t see you, endeared. “I’ve had worse exposures.”

“I find that hard t’believe,” he says, cupping the back of your neck in his palm. His thumb strokes absently back and forth. You can almost believe he’s dragging out these last few moments together, too.

Lifting yourself, you brace your forearms on his chest, staring down at him. His expression is difficult to parse–while there is most definitely a sense of ease you don’t normally associate with him, there’s also a profound sadness.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, swiping his thumb along the ridge of it. You lean into his touch, ready to ask again, when he makes a grab for his hat and places it firmly on your head, obscuring your vision.

“That was some fine ridin’, sweetheart,” he says, voice as coarse and sweet as raw sugar.

You push the brim up until you can see him again, failing to bite back a smile. “Guess I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts now.”

“I ain’t a sheriff," he says flatly, though the slight tic at the corner of his mouth gives away his amusement.

“That’s right, y’ain’t. ‘Cause I am,” you say in your best impression of him, tipping his hat at him.

He blows out a breath and tugs the rim back down over your eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetcheeks,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice.

Today may never happen again. The world could end tomorrow–again–or Cooper could walk off into the Wastes for the very last time. If you’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that nothing lasts forever. So, you drop your head back down and listen to the beat of his heart, using it to count the moments as they pass.

If they’re gonna be the best you get, you’d like to know how many of them you have.

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[kykyonthemoon]

Bad Luck Streak

After losing to him for the tenth time in kitty cards, you decide to throw a tantrum.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel - Xavier - Zayne - Caleb

ಇ. Tags & warnings: a little spicy, 16+, MDNI, fluff, short and sweet, making out, fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, some jealousy (from Zayne), MC being a baby (tbh I would too if I lose too many kitty cards games).

ಇ. Word count: 4k5

ಇ. Based on an anonymous request.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Rafayel

“If you post on your account right now that I, Rafayel, am the most handsome and best kitty cards player, I will let you win this match.”

Rafayel's voice rang out in the room, from across the table. You frowned and said it clearly again, word by word:

"Not. A. Single. Chance!”

“Such a pity.” He spoke as if he was singing. Then, with a delicate yet merciless gesture, he set down his kitty card in the proper position of the purple cup. You quickly reached out to cover the mouth of the cup, but it was too late.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

A “meow” sounded. The cat was the same color as the cup. And it was a six-point.

Time seemed to pass very slowly. Your lips formed an "A" and "O" shape, then the remaining cards in your hand were tossed into the air, falling all around. 

Rafayel's jubilant laughter echoed across the room. He stood up, dancing in the rain from your losing cards. He even made a song:

“Rafayel! Rafayel! Who is the most handsome and talented kitty cards player? It's Rafayel!”

He paused, his index finger and thumb creating a "V" and resting on his chin. He looked at you with a sarcastic expression.

"I offered you the chance to win. It's unfortunate you didn't accept it."

“Will you stop?”

You furiously gazed up at him.You had just lost the tenth game. Even if you had a nightmare, you would not have expected to be that unfortunate.

But seeing your sour expression, Rafayel became even happier. He constantly teased you, claiming that you had just lost to a kitty card master. You clenched your teeth.

“You cheated! There was definitely cheating!”

“Is that so? Then why couldn't you catch me?" He continued to laugh. “Without proof, you must have lost because of such poor skills.”

"That's enough, Rafayel!" You stood up, irritated. To his amazement, you grabbed his collar and hauled him out. You pushed him hard into the vacant corridor. “Go home! I don't want to see that arrogant face of yours anymore!”

"Eh!" Rafayel attempted to run inside, but you swiftly shut the door. You heard him beating on the door outside: “But it's already late. There are no more trains or buses! Are you really going to leave me out here all by myself?”

You opened the door a crack, threw his phone into his hands and said:

“Call a taxi and go home!”

Then, you slammed the door again. Rafayel continued to make noise outside: “Hey! How could you bear to let me go home alone with a stranger, in the middle of the night like this?!” 

But you gave no answer. You let Rafayel boo and protest outside. You put on headphones, deliberately turned on the music loudly and headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

After a time, you approached the door. You could still see Rafayel on the CCTV screen. He stopped screaming and crouched with his head down in the corridor just across from your main entrance. He looked miserable. The hubris of victory had simply vanished from him. You sighed, knowing that you had lost since your compassion decided to speak up.

You opened the door. Rafayel lifted his head and gazed at you, perplexed like a lost puppy. It was very late and he had yet to leave. You were about to tell him to go home when he suddenly ran towards you, arms spread, seeking to hug you.

Instinctively, you moved aside. Rafayel was running and could not stop in time and rushed straight inside. Both surprised and not paying attention to the steps connecting the main door and your living room, he fell. 

He appeared both pathetic and humorous. You did not know how to react anymore. You closed the door, trying to suppress your laughter while Rafayel made a fuss again. He did not even bother to get up, but lay down on the floor to throw a tantrum.

“Miss Bodyguard is bullying me! Come out and see! Oh, good neighbors! She kicked me out of the house. She even made me collapse on the floor! It's all because I'm so attractive and better than her at kitty cards that she hates me!"

"You want to go out there again, don't you?" You spoke quietly. You felt more amused than upset at him. You approached Rafayel, leaning down slightly to see how he was. “Hmm. You still can shout out so loud. It means that you're okay, right?”

You poked his body with your finger. Rafayel struggled like a fish out of water. Then, he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down to the floor with him.

“Ouch!”

You yelled aloud. In the blink of an eye, you were lying in his lap on the floor. 

“Rafayel, what are you doing? Let me go!”

He smiled triumphantly, once more.

“Be still. I'm hurt so much... right here.”

Rafayel pointed to his chest, which was rising and falling with each heavy breath. You could hear a chaotic heartbeat there. He said again:

“Why do you want to chase me away? Why do you have to say that you don't want to see me anymore? It's just kitty cards! If you like winning that much, I'll let you win all the time!”

“I don't need you to let me win.” You said. With your competitive nature, you wanted to defeat him in a fair and righteous manner while also enjoying his sullen face. "If you give in, there's no fun anymore."

Since you could not stay on the ground like this forever, you attempted to get up. But Rafayel would not let you go. He grimaced while holding you above him.

“My whole body hurts so much! My head hurts too! Compensation. I request compensation!”

You supported your body with my elbows on his chest. It was never easy to coax this fish. You just had to use your usual tricks.

"Alright. Here comes compensation.” 

You giggled, then leaned down and kissed him for a long while. The delicate kiss on his lips gradually melted down his neck, then, the chest, turning into crimson flower petals - the way you left your imprint on him. Rafayel lay beneath you and struggled a little, but held you even more tightly. Perhaps you must admit that you had no intention of letting him go home alone that night.

Xavier

You worriedly looked up at Xavier, who sat across from you. His face was hidden in the pile of cards in his hand, displaying just his intensely concentrated eyes. You clutched the very last card tightly in your hands. Just one more step, as long as he spared the last cup, you would win.

Yet things did not always go your way. Xavier picked up a card and placed it in the cup. It transformed into the cat with number six, earning double the points. 

"Another win for me."

His words, so gentle, but it cut your heart for the tenth time. You had lost ten games in a row in just one evening.

“You… YOU!!!” 

Anger choked in your throat. You grit your teeth. How could this be? Apparently you were the one teaching Xavier how to play kitty cards, yet he certainly outperformed you.

Unable to accept this, you became enraged and took out your frustration on the cats in the gaming kit. The cups tipped over, and the virtual cats leaped out. They cautiously seeked shelter on Xavier's arms and shoulders. You growled:

"We. Are. Done. Playing!!!"

You stormed into the bedroom like a hurricane. Ignoring the kittens, ignoring Xavier. You buried yourself on the bed and struggled for quite some time.

“AAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!” 

Perhaps Xavier overheard you yell. However, he did not come in to comfort you as usual. This made you feel even worse. You disliked the sensation of losing. 

You returned to the living room after a lengthy period of lying in bed and felt considerably calmer. There was no one around. You merely discovered a beautifully packed kitty cards kit on the coffee table. You huffed with annoyance. Xavier must have left without saying goodbye. Was it your juvenile reaction to losing that offended him?

You felt humiliated and angry with yourself. You must have upset him. It was only a few card games, but you let it impact both of you. Still you could not accept the fact that you had lost. He could have let you win one match, just one match, right? Finally, you decided to make yourself a cup of hot milk and go to bed early.

A bit later, the doorbell rang. As you went closer to the surveillance camera, you saw Xavier standing outside. However, there was something odd. You had to rub your eyes many times to ensure it was him.

You quickly opened the door. Xavier stood there, his light hair adorned with a pair of white bunny ears with black tips swinging back and forth. He was dressed in a white and blue suit, his hands gloved, and he was holding them up like a cute bunny who had just lost his way to your house.

“X-Xavier?!” You were taken aback, but you had to admit that you admired the way he looked. 

"Can… Can I come inside?"

Xavier looked around with embarrassment. What if he was caught like this? Thinking about it, you swiftly drew him inside. Only you were permitted to adore this aspect of his. 

You shut the door and followed Xavier into the living room. Yet you could not tear your gaze away from the round white rabbit tail waving behind him. You felt guilty because you wanted to reach out and touch it. 

“Why are you dressed like this? In the middle of the night?” You asked. Perhaps you were so furious and fatigued that your imagination conjured up this scenario.

“I'm here to be your bunny butler.” Xavier spoke up. “Since last time you said you would like a bunny butler…”

Xavier left his sentence incomplete. He carefully examined your reaction before saying, "I hope you like it."

“Ah, erm…” You coughed. “Are you doing this because of the kitty cards incident earlier?”

Xavier nodded slightly. Oh Lord! His dangling bunny ears looked so adorable beyond imagination! You just wanted to pull him down and touch them a lot.

Seeming to know what you were thinking, Xavier sat down beside you. You tried to keep your face stoic as if you could not care less, and said:

“You don't need to do that.”

“Do you really not want your bunny butler?”

As he drew in closer, you felt your pulse skip a beat and your throat dry. You responded:

“Eh… um… I mean… You didn't have to go to this extent…”

Xavier sighed sadly. He stretched out and scratched the rabbit ears on his head, which made you want to touch them more.

“If you don't like it… I'll leave…”

"Wait!" You stopped him. Soon your hand was holding a bunny ear on his head. “Oh, hey…”

The smooth cotton layer calmed your rage. You proceeded to caress the rabbit's ear with one hand before grabbing another one with the other. Xavier patiently resided quietly as you played around. He breathed gently and steadily, and his cheeks were slightly rosy.

“I thought you didn't like it.” He mentioned.

“When did I ever say that?” 

“You do like fluffy things, don't you?”

Your giggles rang out. “Yeah. I also like an obedient bunny that knows he should call me master."

Xavier took a short peek at you before turning away. His face lit up even more. He mumbled: “Okay… If this makes you feel better… My Lady….”

You gently lifted Xavier's chin so he could no longer avoid your gaze. Then you grinned with satisfaction:

"Very good. But I still haven't completely forgiven."

“So, what do you want the bunny butler to do for you, My Lady?”

“Let's see…” You pretended to think, then your hand quickly went behind Xavier's back and touched his bunny tail. He dodged intuitively in an instance.

“This… You cannot touch…”

“Why not?” 

You frowned and tried again, then again... You kept attacking Xavier's back with both hands, and he kept avoiding you. In the end, you suddenly leaned close to him. 

"Got it!" You grasped the rabbit tail behind Xavier as you hugged him and sat entirely on his lap. His breath wafted across your shoulders and neck. You also blushed.

“My Lady, are you content now?” He asked with an expression like he had just been bullied. Then, without waiting for your response, he gripped your hips firmly and forced you closer to his body.

Your heart was racing pretty fast. You could not take your eyes off Xavier. He was very close. So close. His lips brushed the tip of your nose, slightly parted and whispered:

“Are you no longer mad at me?”

You nodded slightly, since you were helpless to say anything else in this situation. 

“So have you had enough of playing, My Lady?”

Another nod. Xavier seemed satisfied. He said:

“Then it's my turn.”

"Huh?" 

Before you could grasp what was actually going on, Xavier put a hand behind your neck and forced you into him. His lips gently parted yours, and you tasted the nectar on the tip of his tongue. You felt dizzy, to the point you entrusted your entire body weight on Xavier. Even though it was him who was wearing the bunny costume, why did it feel like you were the prey?

Zayne

“Can't you let me win for just once, Zayne?” 

You frowned at him. With a serene appearance, Zayne put down his final card and won the entire game.

“If I give in to you, how will you improve?”

You bit your bottom lip firmly. Your hand dropped the cards, and your eyes were crimson as if you were going to cry. It was the tenth game you had lost to him. Such an impossible mission to beat Doctor Zayne since he constantly blocked his opponent's moves like that. 

“You… Foul play!” You shrieked, catching the attention of a few pairs playing kitty cards nearby.

“That is called strategy, not foul play. Foul play is when you cheated to peek at my cards..."

“La la la! I won't listen to you anymore!” You covered your ears tightly. “You're always so cruel! Look at the pile of support cards you have! You just have to back me into a corner like this!” 

Even when the game ended, in Zayne's hand was still a stack of assist cards he had gathered from the beginning of the game to attack you. He seemed to have every type of support card in a kitty deck. How come he was so lucky? Every card he drew was a fatal card. He left you no chance to win.

Despite your outraged expression, Zayne remained remarkably calm. He put the cards back in the kit and cleaned up the mess on your side of the table. He replied:

“This game only has two players. If I don't attack you, then who?"

“I'm not talking to you anymore.” You rose up and marched away in anger. Zayne grinned at your childishness and continued with cleaning up the cards.

That day, a special event was held at Akso Hospital. Patients, relatives and staff were all excited to play kitty cards. Small tables were neatly set up around the hall and the main garden for each pair of players to participate. Everyone was very happy, except for you. No one would be, if they lost ten consecutive games of kitty cards.

After a time, with no indication of you returning, Zayne began looking about. He knew your childish and competitive nature, as well as the way to comfort you. Yet it was a different time. He had not expected to discover you leaving him to play cards with someone else.

You sat at another table with Doctor Greyson. You just won a high-scoring game and chose to celebrate by howling and swaying your body left and right. Then you asked Greyson:

“Let's play one more round, shall we?”

Greyson had barely nodded when he felt a strong cold. He was shivering in the nice warm bright weather. 

“Ah… um… Somehow… I-I feel so cold… P-Please... excuse me…”

Having stated so, the doctor rose up, hunched, and proceeded into the hall, where the nurse, Yvonne, appeared to inquire as to why he had suddenly felt sick.

You sighed because your victory did not last long. But right after that, you found someone else who was also looking for a partner to play cards with. It was an elderly cardiology patient. You warmly encouraged the elderly man to sit on the chair. But after only a few minutes, before you could even play your first card, the old man sneezed loudly and said it was too windy out here and he felt cold. He then requested the nurse to take him inside.

How strange! You felt no cold at all, and it was not that windy here. You glanced around for other folks to play with. Since you had lost so much, you felt compelled to win many more games to compensate for the resentment in your heart. But another person came, then another, and another... Whether young or old, sick or healthy, everyone felt a shiver run down their spines as soon as they sat in the chair opposite yours. Was this table haunted or something?

You decided to change positions and see what happened. But, as you rose up and prepared to sit on that dreadful chair, you noticed a familiar figure from a table in the garden's most secluded corner. There was just one person seated there: Doctor Zayne.

"What are you doing?" You were outraged and dashed to inquire. It was not a work day for Zayne, and his casual dress added to his laid-back demeanor. He calmly replied:

“I'm waiting for someone to come play kitty cards with me.”

“It's not what I meant! Did you just use Evol on the people who came to my table?”

Zayne put his hands in his pockets, indifferently:

“A person may feel cold because their body is not feeling well. It's best for them to go inside for a check-up."

“That's it! Obviously you did something on purpose!” You muttered a few words of bitterness under your breath. Surely he had pulled a trick to ensure that no one would play cards with you again, and that you would not be able to taste glorious victory. You definitely must figure this out.

“Doctor Zayne, show me your hands.” You made it sound like a demand. 

"Why?" 

“I want to check your hands.” If Zayne had just used his Evol, his hands would still have ice on.

Of course, Zayne would never let you catch him that easily.His hands remained securely tucked in his coat pockets. Losing patience, you grabbed him with both hands.

“He who excuses himself, accuses himself! If you're innocent, why don't you prove it?"

Zayne did not respond. You used all of your might to take his hand from his pocket. He gazed at you briefly, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Then he took out his hand and spread it in front of you.

"Here. Don't mess around anymore.”

You carefully examined Zayne's hand. Nothing. The palm of his hand was just cool, not freezing. You huffed loudly. Unwilling to accept this defeat again, you quickly pulled up his sleeve. In the sunlight, little snowflakes emerged, dazzling precisely like your triumphant smile.

“Ah ha! Here it is! Doctor Zayne, I've caught you red-handed!”

Being exposed like that, Zayne did not flinch. He looked up at you and then, as quick as lightning, the hand you clutched tightly turned the tables. He grabbed yours and pulled you down into his arms.

"Be still. You're too loud.” Doctor Zayne grasped your waist and even placed his finger on your mouth to remind you to be quiet. Your chest rumbled again, especially at the notion of someone catching you both here, in this position.

Fortunately, the area was primarily covered with decorative plants. One must look attentively for the existence of a secret kitty cards table in this corner of the garden.

“Doctor Zayne,” you whispered. “You are too much! You scared away everyone who wanted to play cards with me. Now I can't win anymore."

Zayne gently nudged his head at yours. He seemed miserable.

“Do you like playing kitty cards with other people more than with me?”

You lifted your hand to massage your forehead. "Hmm. Of course. Because whenever I play with you, I always lose."

Zayne's eyebrows furrowed. He said: “Understood. Then I'll just make everyone else stay away from your table.”

"Eh! Doctor Zayne! I didn't expect you to be that unfair!”

Zayne smirked. His hand raised your face, causing you to stare into his eyes. “Be still. Do you want others to find us here?”

You turned red, but remained defiant. "What's the matter? Are you afraid that others will find out you're bullying me here?”

"Maybe." 

He answered idly. Why did you suspect he was up to something? He leaned so near to you that you could detect a scent of mint candy on his breath. A soft kiss landed on your cheek.

“I intend to keep you here for myself. So that no one else can see your cute reactions when playing kitty cards anymore…”

He began kissing you, gently then fiercely. His kisses were as sweet as candy, cool as summer ice cream. His arm tightened around your waist, keeping your back straight. Your feet were lifted off the grass. Between kisses that melted the ice on Zayne's hands, he whispered:

“No one else, but me.”

Caleb

Never once had Caleb given in to you in kitty cards games. Every time you played cards with him, it ended in arguments, yelling, and even tears when you ran to tell Grandma about it.

And then, that trick no longer worked, since you had moved out and grown up. Caleb would not be swayed by a few tears from you.

“Don't do that anymore.” He spoke from the opposite side. “It won't work now.”

He proceeded calmly. You snorted. At this pace, you would lose. You did not want to do housework for the following week when you both returned home to see Grandma. Every time you played kitty cards with him, housework was what you bet on. The loser must do all the chores for the winner. This time, Caleb came to Linkon to pick you up before you both came home the day after.

“You are truly an evil person.” You murmured. His phone rang at the time, and while he was answering it, you swiftly took his green kitty and swapped it with another cup.

"Hey!" He grabbed your hand, hastily murmured something on the phone about calling back later, and hung up. He stared at you, clicking his tongue. “Cheater!”

"I did not cheat!" You lied. “This cat… wanted to climb out of the cup. I was just helping you catch it."

You attempted to draw your hand back. The cat returned to its previous place. Caleb still did not let you go. He shook his head:

“Cheating is cheating. If Gran knows about this, she would be so sad!”

“No way…” You pouted. 

“I saw it with my own eyes. Don't deny it. You've lost this game.” 

Caleb declared. Of course, you would never accept this result.

"I'm not lost! It's my turn! I haven't lost yet!”

He dropped the cards and placed them on the table. “Whoever cheats loses. Stop playing. We have an early train to catch tomorrow. It's over. A week of housework for you!”

Caleb grinned with victory. He rose up and attempted to leave. But you would not let him have it. You surged forward, flinging yourself onto his back. You pinched his ear and shouted:

"No! Play again! One more round! I have to restore my honor!”

Caleb fought but was unable to shove you down. He spoke:

"You've lost ten games already. Even if you keep playing, you won't be able to beat me, pip-squeak!"

"No! I refuse to lose! Let's play again!”

You kicked your legs hard, causing Caleb to lose his balance. Then you both sank into the comfy sofa. You could hear him mutter, his words garbled since his face was crushed against the mattress.

"Oh dear! What did you eat to become this heavy, pip-squeak?!”

You got up, but because he called you fat and you wanted vengeance for those ten lost games of kitty cards, you refused to get down and simply lay on his body. 

“Get off, pip-squeak?”

"Nope. Unless you're willing to play ten more games, I won't come down."

Caleb smiled and sighed, powerless before your stubbornness. Finally, he turned so that you both lay on your sides on the sofa. Your back rested against his chest. Suddenly, you felt quite hot in the room. 

“Are you confident that you will beat me in the next ten games?” Caleb asked. His breath brushed your hair and nape, leaving you ticklish.

"Yeah…" You responded quietly. Caleb placed one hand on your tummy and softly pressed, which startled you.

“But I don't want to play anymore.”

"Why not?"

Caleb did not respond, instead pressing his body further closer to you. It seemed you already had the answer. You looked at the virtual cats blinking on the table. They were waiting for both of you to start a new game. It was fine to let them wait a little longer. 

“Pip-squeak, you know why.” 

Your cheeks felt heated. You gently turned around and adjusted your posture to lie straight on the sofa, looking at him for a moment.

“Know what?”

Caleb smiled at you while you attempted to be innocent. He replied:

“Someone pretends she doesn't know anything. You just cheated. I haven't punished you yet."

“I don't remember anything.”

“When we were little, you made a rule that anyone who cheated would be punished, right?” Caleb reminded you of it. 

“S-So… what kind of punishment do you want?” You nervously gazed up at him, waiting. 

“How about this?…”

Caleb whispered. Then he began tickling you. You fought and yelled. You almost fell to the ground, but he caught you and drew you closer. You rested your hands on his chest to maintain balance. 

“Okay… Is that it? Now… Can we continue playing?” You gasped for air as you gazed down at Caleb. He shook his head.

"Not yet. It was simply the beginning.” 

You were about to protest when Caleb quickly locked your lips. The virtual kitties over there must wait a little longer then.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 10

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: wow here's me with a fast part out! im already working on part 11 so don't you worry! i believe i tagged everyone who requested to, but pls feel free to yell at me in my askbox if i missed you! next chapter is gonna be... fun ;) just wanna say, your replies/reactions/reblogs make my heart sing and it makes me smile lots

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Sunday

You woke up to the sounds of coughing and beeping. 

The subtle creaks of wheels being rolled, with voices left and right, both tones of urgency and concern. Through your blurred image, you knew for a fact you were no longer home. Lights brighter than the moon blinded you from above. You decide to use your hands to give you context, feeling this holed yet weighted blanket covering your body. As you moved, you felt wires tickle your arms, with some tugging from restriction. 

“What…” you murmur to yourself, groaning in pain. The moment you shifted for comfort was when you realized you were in the hospital. Gurneys are as unforgeable to your back as spikes, and even then you’d probably respect the spikes more. They don’t pretend to not be uncomfortable. Finally rubbing your eyes, you look around, finding Nanami right beside you, eyeing your drip that was overhead you. “Nana…?” 

It was almost consequential whenever you said his name. Once he hears your voice, those enticing hazel eyes find their way to burn into your own. Although you felt much better, the sudden pressure of his gaze forced a few coughs out of you. Seeing this, Nanami quickly held your forearm, his expression dressed with concern. 

“Are you still feeling unwell?” Nanami asks quickly. “Should I call for a nurse?” 

You shake your head, waving your free hand weakly, “I feel fine, please.” You begin to adjust yourself to sit up, noticing as Nanami stood up in order to hold you by your elbows. Rough, calloused hands delicately assist you as you sit yourself up. The faint, nauseating feeling you had prior to going unconscious vanished. “Thank you,” you murmur, quietly clearing your throat which was in long desire for some hydration. 

“Ah, here.” Nanami reached over for a water bottle by the provided table, snapping the cap open while slowly passing it to you. You grab the bottle from him and begin to down it, the cooling relief surfing down your throat. Few streams of water escape from your lips, feeling the cold sensation go down your jaw and neck. But, it is kindly wiped away from a napkin, as Nanami dabs it dry. “Don’t drink so hastily, Y/N. You’re not in a rush anywhere, are you?” 

“Yes I am,” you hiss after finishing half the water. “I need to go home. Now.” 

“Y/N, you’re running a 39.4°C (103°F) fever, and you were incredibly dehydrated,” Nanami says in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone. He tugs carefully at your IV drip, “this is your third bag.” 

You cross your arms over your chest and look away with a stubborn hmph. As you distantly looked towards the window and into the Tokyo night, you realized immediately that Nanami brought you to the hospital. Meaning, he was there when you passed out. Also meaning that… his confession may have been part of your fever. Perhaps the delusion of his confession may have just been a dream. Or a sweet nightmare. 

“What happened?” You pondered quietly, anticipating that he’d answer your indirect question. 

“You fainted,” Nanami answered curtly. Go figure. “So I brought you to the hospital immediately.” 

You look over at him, seeing the earnesty in his face. You sucked your teeth mentally, knowing you couldn’t get mad at him over this. “Well… thank you, Nanami kacho. I’m really sorry for the trouble as well.” 

Nanami shakes his head, “it’s absolutely no trouble. ‘M just glad you’re awake and well. The doctors were able to calm down that fever pretty quickly, and they simply said you needed more water and rest.” 

You nod slowly, “work has been doing a number on me. I might schedule a vacation after the holiday, if that’s alright with you, kacho.” 

Nanami, through an annoyed sigh from how you’re addressing him, gives a reluctant nod, “you’ve been working hard this last year. Consider it approved.” 

“Thank you,” you let out. 

After a moment of silence, Nanami leans forward in his chair, anxious thumbs twiddling around one another. “Y/N, if I may ask… do you remember anything prior to you going unconscious?” 

You stare at him pensively, trying to recall memories in his brown eyes. “I remember you coming over with vegetables,” you begin, “and then you were making me soup– oh my god, the soup! Did you–!” 

“It’s completely off, don’t worry,” Nanami reassures you. You quickly hold your chest, the sudden panic making your heart go off. “Anything else?” 

He was trying to itch it out of you. “I believe that was it,” you say quickly, “everything else… I think it was just in my head.” 

“Like a dream?” Nanami continues. 

You nod, “it must have been. The last thing I remember is us on the couch, and you telling me something…” Your cheeks go warm again. 

Nanami’s eyes narrow on your expression, curious as to what caused it. “Do you remember what I said?” 

Your eyes dart at him, your nerves collecting. You had much more energy than before, sure, but that doesn’t neglect how lightheaded you were from everything. “Um,” you hesitate. You didn’t want to bring it up and embarrass yourself more than you already have. First 2 rejections, and now having to recount something that you were very confident did not happen. “Well, in my mind… I think you were trying to confess to me.” 

Nanami nods, “I wasn’t trying to; I did.” 

You blink a few times, your mind going blank. Mindlessly, you pinched your forearm, letting out a pained hiss. Nanami quickly holds your damage-dealing hand and looks at you puzzled. “Sorry,” you begin quietly, “I sort of lost my mind there. Sorry to ask you to repeat yourself, but can you say that one more time for me?” 

“You were not dreaming, Y/N,” Nanami says forwardly, “I like you.” 

The words were golden, but they didn’t reflect with that metallic shine. Your heart jumped for joy, but it was tied down with light weights. This confession, his words… it didn’t quite feel right. Not that you have experience being confessed to, but this didn’t feel like in the dramas you binged at 1 A.M. 

You squint at him, skepticism drowning the air. You adjust yourself, facing him as best as you could with the most serious look on your face. Even Nanami looked surprised at your sudden change. “Nanami, you like me?” 

Nanami looks at you, feeling as though this was a test, “yes…?” 

“Why?” You asked combatively. 

But this is a dream come true, no? To be confessed to, to have feelings reciprocated by the man you like and admire so much. To hear him say, ‘I like you,’ and happily begin to date. It was what you wanted, right before your very eyes. But… it didn’t feel as dreamy as it did in your head. He had rejected you twice– what change of heart could a man possibly have so quickly?

“Why do I like you?” Nanami reiterates. You nod. “Well, as you pointed out before, it is not shocking for coworkers to get along so well that they become romantically affiliated.” 

“Nanami, that’s in general,” your tongue sharply starts, “with that logic, you could have liked any person you have worked with in the past. My question is why do you specifically like me?” 

Nanami’s cheeks hold a peach hue, with a lump in his throat. In this space, with your aura, it felt like an interrogation. Your eyes burned into his soul, and he knew no doctor here could relieve him of such intensity. “W-well, firstly, your eye for detail and how meticulous you are in your work is definitely one reason.” 

“Sure,” you hum, unconvinced, “anything else?” 

Nanami starts to feel cold, “and, I appreciate that you listen to instructions exactly the way it’s told. You even exceed my expectations and do more than what I tell you.” 

“Nanami, I’m sorry,” you tilt your head like a confused dog, “are you trying to tell me that you like me because I do good work?” 

“W-well,” Nanami tries to keep his cool, looking down shamefully at his hands. “I’ve never liked someone before. So, forgive me if my standards are… unique.” 

“They are unique, I can give you that,” you begin, disappointment laced in your words, “but with what you’re saying… It means that I’m not really unique.” 

“That’s simply not true,” Nanami immediately tries to disagree, but you bring him to a complete halt. You raise your hand to him, shutting him up silently. Putting your hand down, you look at him with a sheepish smile. 

“Nanami,” you say before letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. “Don’t feel obligated to like me as an attempt to restore how we once were with one another. It’s adding insult to injury, and you don’t have to do that to yourself, either.” 

His face goes pale, “but I do like you.” 

“So why didn’t you say so before?” 

“I already told you; I didn’t realize before,” Nanami’s hands hold onto the corner of your bed, his fingers desperately denting into the barely-foamed mattress. 

“So… you didn’t know you liked me,” you began slowly, “and conveniently, you realized you like right after breaking my heart. Am I right?” 

“Y/N, you’re taking this out of proportion,” Nanami hums. He quickly adjusts the surrounding curtains, closing all the gaps to mimic some sort of privacy. Taking a seat once more, he looks over to you and raises his eyebrows. “I would never pretend to like someone in order to spare their feelings. That would be a waste of my time.” 

“But you like me for lame reasons,” you huff quietly, “you like that I’m a really good assistant to you. That I do my job well, that I don’t require more than a simple instruction. I’m useful, convenient. You like me because I’m doing you a service that you’re literally paying me for.” 

“That’s not true,” Nanami counters, “I refused every single assistant until you.” 

“Because you’ve eavesdropped and practically did your research on me,” you pointed out. Oh, how eavesdropping got us here…

“You know exactly how I am, Y/N,” Nanami argues quietly. He sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I do not accept anything less than what should be standard. You exceed that standard, and I’ve had no regrets accepting you as my assistant.” 

“If your big reason for liking me is because of the way I work, then I’m not interested,” you reply briefly. “You know nothing else about me besides my work ethic, which is only one part of me.” 

Nanami looks at you, uncertain what else to say. You had your arms crossed above your own chest, looking distantly into the cold night. He was taken aback by your cold, avoidant demeanor. It was almost like you didn’t want to accept the reality. But, Nanami had a strong feeling that pressing it would make you shell up even more. 

“Let’s be forward with one another,” Nanami says in a low tone. “We seem to go in this back and forth that’s a bit confusing. Why are you upset with me? We… now share the same sentiment.” 

You look over at him, seeing the woe and worry in his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart. But you have to remember that your feelings were hurt first. You did the confessing, you took the rejection(s), and you did all the crying. Just because he was saying the things you wanted to hear doesn’t mean it was well timed. 

“I don’t accept your confession,” you say simply. “If you didn’t realize you had feelings for me, that means there was a chance where you would have never realized it, and all this would have never happened.” 

Nanami looks into your eyes, confidence standing its ground but wavering. He didn't know what to do. Though he knew he liked you, the points you brought up were irrefutable. Though he found you to be beautiful, and appreciated your thoughtfulness, he knew nothing about you or your past. And, with how defensive you now were, Nanami wasn’t too sure that he’d be able to delve into you like a swimmer diving in water. 

But, he will absolutely traverse your waters, one way or another. Afterall, he’s a businessman.

“Then what is your offer?” Nanami begins, weaving his fingers between one another. He leaned into you, his head going over the gurney fencing. 

“My offer?” You ask, a reticence on your tongue. 

“You’re my woman of trade,” Nanami explains, “so, how much time do I have to persuade you that I like you?” 

You feel your cheeks burn, “eh?” 

“Give me an amount of time to convince you,” Nanami repeats himself, conviction being repaired in his words. “However long it takes, I’ll make it happen. I’ll make us happen.” 

You immediately shake your head, “no.” 

“Please?” Please? You raised your eyebrows, looking at Nanami. His usual empty scowl was softened, his hazel eyes shining like dew. You could tell he was at his wits end, unsure what else he could do. 

As he silently pleaded, you felt a vibration sound on the table where your water bottle is. You look over, noticing your phone case. He follows your eyes and passes the phone to you. Quickly checking it, you casually skimmed an email notification and let out a curt sigh. You lift your head, and meet his eyes once more. 

“You have until the end of the Holiday Party,” you offer simply, “but nothing dramatic or theatrical.” 

Nanami stares at you, seeing if you were kidding or taking back your words. But you sat solemn. He nods, licking his bottom lip quickly to keep him from smiling. He brings his hand to you. 

“Deal?” He says firmly. It felt like he was working, and for a moment even you were worried. Though you were confident in Nanami’s lack of sensibility, you couldn’t deny his businessman tactics and mind.

You slowly place your hand in his, and you feel him gently squeeze your hand. “D-deal.” 

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

@jazlenekasi @gradmacoco @nymphsdomain

[silverskye13]

Etho looks down quietly at his basket, making sure everything he needs is inside. He knows it is best to only make one trip down to the water. The water is treacherous. He is strong enough to withstand it, but of course, everyone who ever drowned thinks they're strong enough until their lungs are bursting. So. He double checks. He makes sure.

He has a week's worth of laundry. Some dishes he needs sand from the river to scour. A bucket, so he won't have to make this trip for another few days. There are a few pieces of leather armor in need of a quick rinse before they're polished. Also, he's thirsty. He tries not to drink his rain water. He needs it to last.

Finally, Etho belts on his sword, hefts the basket over one shoulder, and the empty bucket with his free hand. He looks to the short path that leads down to the dock. The water is blue as the diamond sky above, edged in gold from the slowly gathering sunset. Birds are singing. Breeze whispers through the willow branches and cattails. Across the river, a small herd of deer is moving through the rushes. One breaks apart from the others to drink. Etho sighs out a long breath, steels himself, and walks down the trail.

The water is cursed. Very few people still come to the river for chores. Most only dare to run down for a few buckets of water when the well is running dry.

_____

When Tango saw him gathering his things earlier, he'd shaken his head and made a warding gesture with his hand. Protection. For himself. For Etho. Or just to ward away the idea of evil.

"Scream, I guess," Tango had told him. "I doubt we'll make it in time, but yanno, we'll know what happened."

Etho had only offered a tense smile behind his mask. Everyone would know what happened, scream or not.

"I'll be fine," Etho said. "I've been fine before."

He said it a lot more confidently than he felt, and Tango wasn't reassured. Tango had a good nose for things like that. He sniffed the air, and made the chagrined expression of someone who could smell a coming thunderstorm.

"Yeah. Sure." Tango sniffed again, and then tapped the side of his nose with a knowing finger. "On second thought, maybe save your breath."

_____

Etho walks out onto the dock, his footsteps silent as he can make them. He took his boots off by the dock's edge. They're heavy when they're wet. He sets the basket down gently on the aged wood. He fills the bucket first. In the neat and tidy plan of his habits, he thinks the bucket is the one he least wants to be left last with. It's heavy and cumbersome, and requires leaning over the water's edge. So he fills it, trying to disturb the water as little as possible, and pads back to his boots to set it down gently beside them. Then he's back to his basket, and getting to the louder work, what he know will attract attention.

He grabs a shirt and dunks it into the water, wringing it out a few times before scrubbing it against the dock's edge. Someone nailed a washboard here, probably to make it easier for everyone else who needed to scrub up -- one less cumbersome thing to drag to the riverside. Beside it, Etho can see long scratches in the wood, vanishing off the side. He has large hands, so they don't line up to him, but the unmistakable look of nails scratching, clinging, is recognizable even still. He wonders idly who made them. Probably someone playing, before the water was cursed. Or an animal that swam across the bank and needed help scurrying out.

He is tempted to think it's something more sinister, but he knows better.

The water turns from diamond blue to sunflower yellow, then to blazing orange with rusted and bleeding edges. The herd of deer on the other side of the water wanders off, sated. A fox calls in the wood somewhere, an uncanny, very human scream. The bird calls twitter into silence, replaced by chirping frogsong. Etho wrings out the last of his clothes and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He checks how far the sun has dipped in the sky, and decides he has an our yet before dark settles in.

With his clothes washed, he sets them back in the basket, neatly folded. They'll wrinkle probably, but when he puts them out on the line, the wind will straighten them out. His knees are sore from kneeling, his back from leaning. His armor will be easier to clean if he can settle in, brace it on his crossed legs.

Etho looks around the water, at the deceptive stillness. It's a slow, lazy river, hardly pushing the water fast enough to put ripples on it. There is one place near the opposite bank where a long shadow stretches from a stone, broken by the reflection of red sunset. It's the kind of image he would expect to see on a lake on a windless day. He's heard before that quiet rivers make for deadly waters, that there is a current in holes in the riverbed that will devour someone.

But Etho isn't in the water. He's on the dock, and the dock is safe. Nothing will drag him off it. Nothing in the water is strong enough. It doesn't have to be. There is some comfort in that, in knowing he can't be devoured against his will. It is why he still comes to the river. It is why he dares. Etho sits back and crosses his legs, bracing his leathers against his knees. He scoops a palm full of water onto them and scrubs, trying to get blood out of the small cracks where it will settle and rot. His chainmail is back at the fort up the hill, where its heaviness can't encumber him. It cleans itself reasonably well, all the links clattering together, just so long as he doesn't roll in any mud.

There is shuffling on the dock behind him, the creaking of old wood. Etho tilts his head, breathes in deeply through his nose. His pulse doesn't quicken. After a momentary pause, he resumes his work.

"Hey BDubs," he says conversationally. "Trying to sneak up on me?"

"Wh-- no. Of course not." There is mischief in BDub's answer, a grin in his voice. "The great Etho? Never. You probably heard me coming from a mile away."

"Maybe not a mile," Etho chuckles humbly. "You going to join me?"

"Well, I don't know," BDubs laughs, leaning over Etho's shoulder. "Is it safe?"

"I don't know why it wouldn't be."

"Water's cursed," BDubs reminds him. "There could be boogiemen about."

"You trying to tell me something BDubs?" Etho asks slyly, peering up at his friend.

"What? No of course not," BDubs laughs. He sits beside Etho, plunging his bare feet into the water beside the dock. "Even if I was, you know me Etho. You? Kill you? You'd kill me first."

"I don't know about that," Etho hums, splashing another palm full of water on a buckle clasp and scrubbing at a rusted stain with his thumb. "You made pretty efficient work of Grian."

"Grian had it coming," BDubs shrugs. "Got too caught up listening to the music."

Etho chuckles. "The music was very good."

BDubs kicks his feet in the water, humming the tune momentarily under his breath. It's a haunting sound, not really meant to be sung. Not by anything human. Etho shudders in spite of himself.

"Man, don't do that."

"Sorry! Haha! Sorry. Couldn't help it," BDubs grins a gap-tooth smile in Etho's direction, his eyes bright and gilded by the setting sun. "It's probably one of the coolest kills I've ever gotten."

"I'll make sure Tango knows you said that."

"Oh, Tango's fine." Bdubs waves a hand dismissively. "He's just upset 'cause I scared him."

"You did more than just scare him."

Dark room. Dark water. Tango screaming and running, scrabbling at the walls with his nails. If they ever went back to that little cave, Etho wondered if there would be marks on the walls like the docks, played, desperate fingers, digging.

"Well he's alive, isn't he?"

"I guess he is."

"Then he should get over it!"

Etho shakes his head, laughing. BDubs' voice is over-loud on the quiet lake, but its a good sound. Full of intensity and joy, and revelry. It made the silence between his words stark and empty, and Etho was always loathe to fill it.

Bdubs suddenly wraps an arm around Etho's shoulders, pulling him into a conspiratorial embrace. "Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you, by the way."

Etho suddenly has goosebumps on his neck, his spine, his arms. BDubs' arm is cold against his shoulders. He smells of bracken and standing water, and his eyes are bright as sunset. Etho takes a long, slow breath in and holds it for a moment.

"Uh... Yeah, BDubs?"

"I've got a plan, you know, for the others," Bdubs continues, his voice dropping to something near a whisper. There is something on the edge of his tone like the ringing of bells. Excitement. Thrill. Hunger. "But I'll need some help. I mean, I'm good at redstone, you know 'ol BDubs knows his stuff. But I need an expert. Someone good at traps."

"You know you've always got me Bdubs," Etho laughs, and it is hard to keep the nervousness from his voice. He's not sure he succeeds. "I'm happy to help. Just uh--" He shrugs his shoulders, and BDubs' arm falls away. "You know. Keep your distance."

"You're not scared of me, are you Etho?" Bdubs laughs, and it's loud and boisterous, and perfect. It echoes off the water like glass. Bells and ringing. He gives Etho a prideful, knowing look. "No, you're not scared of little 'ol BDubs. I know what you're scared of."

BDubs suddenly turns and slips into the water. Not all the way. His hands are still clinging to the wood, his elbows resting on the dock like it was a pool side. But the splash hits Etho's side and makes him shudder so hard, he drops the armor he'd been polishing. In a flash he's on his feet, backing away two, three steps. His movements feel too slow and heavy, and there's an instant of panic in him.

"Woah man!" Etho snaps, startled. He reaches for something, anything-- "I said keep your--!"

But BDubs is laughing, kicking his feet, stirring up the mud at the bottom of the river. "Oh come on Etho. It's water."

Etho takes three long breaths, filling his lungs to bursting before pushing the air out again heavy through his nose.

"You're fine you big baby," BDubs grins, resting his head on his crossed arms. His legs stop kicking, stop stirring up the mud, and Etho can see the water is shallow enough that he's standing on the bottom. He'd thought-- he'd thought-- "You'd think I tried to drown you, jeez."

He thought it was deeper.

Etho held his breath for a moment, counted slowly. He wanted to reach his hand to his neck, to check his pulse. To see how fast his heart was beating. He moved his hand to, and at a mocking glance from his friend, decides instead to stoop to pick up his dropped armor. He walks carefully to his basket and places it inside.

"Why'd you come down here, anyway?" BDubs asks. "If you're so scared, I mean."

"You know me, BDubs. I always come back," Etho answers, almost a reflex. A rehearsed answer. "Who else would I go to?"

"Tango and Skizz?"

"They won't keep me safe like you will." Etho points out. He shudders again, the cold from BDub's touch had seeped into him more than he thought it had. He's acclimating though, like jumping into a pool. It's a cold that seeps out of him, warms as it settles. "It's me and you to the end, right buddy?"

"Of course Etho. I'd never betray you."

Etho looks through his things one last time, then frowns. He turns the basket with his foot. He glances at BDubs, who still watches him from the water's edge. Then he takes a chance and crouches down beside his basket, rifling through with both hands.

"Lose something?" BDubs asks, standing on his tiptoes to get a better look.

Etho looks around, checking first the dock, and then the water beyond. In the deeper water over the side, he sees the flash of a buckle in the dying rays of the sun.

"Oh, huh," BDubs hums disinterestedly. "Guess you'll have to get that."

"BDubs," Etho scowls.

"Fine! Fine. I get it. You don't wanna get wet." BDubs puts up his hands, as though surrendering. "The water really isn't all that bad." He offers Etho a quick little salute. "Be right back."

He takes an exaggerated breath and splashes beneath the dock, stirring up mud and river plants. He breaks the water's surface shortly after, holding up the fallen armor piece triumphantly. "Ta-da! Hold your applause. I know I'm great."

Etho, in spite of himself, chuckles. He shivers again -- the evening is getting cold -- and reaches a hand out. BDubs places the buckle in his hand, then reaches his other hand up to clasp Etho's gently. It's awkward and off-balance, Etho leaning precariously over the side of the dock, and BDubs on his tip-toes, holding him in place. It isn't a hard grasp. At any moment, Etho can take his hand away. He has always been stronger than BDubs.

"Hey, Etho, I really have missed you, man," BDubs says, smiling fondly, his voice soft. It isn't a whisper. It simply isn't loud and brash like he normally is. Heartfelt. The kind of tone that beckons, that wants to be listened to. "I mean-- I've missed us doing things together. It reminds me of the good 'ol days, you know? NHO and Mindcrack. We make a good team."

"We do," Etho agrees. He takes a long, slow breath. He shivers.

He frowns.

Etho pulls his hand out of BDubs, and BDubs offers no resistance. Etho looks down at his hand, at the wrinkled, waterlogged skin. He rubs his thumb across his forefingers, feeling the odd texture, grounding himself on it. Etho takes a deep breath in, lets it out again slowly.

"How long have I been in the water, BDubs?" Etho whispers.

Etho is still holding the belt buckle in one hand, still looking down at the wrinkled fingers of his other. BDubs is still in front of him, only his head and shoulders above the water. Etho looks back over his shoulder. The dock is startlingly far away, the basket sitting on the very edge. Beyond it, his boots and water bucket are sitting in the grass beside rushes and willow branches.

"Does it matter?" BDubs asks, smiling gently.

Etho takes a long, deep breath through his nose.

"Oh, don't be scared," BDubs says, moving silently closer. He reaches out his hands and grasps Etho's arms, a gentle touch, reassuring. A friend trying to assuage fear. His eyes are blazing red and orange with the setting sun, but the sky is black and salted with stars. "I didn't drag you down here, Etho. You came to me, remember?"

"BDubs--"

"You know I'd never betray you," BDubs continues, taking a slow step backwards. He pulls Etho with him, and Etho, by habit and familiarity, takes a step forward. The allure of BDubs' voice tilts his vision. He's on the dock, holding the buckle that fell in the water, and BDubs is clasping his hands, and the sun is setting. The water is up to his chest, and the world is dark star-filled, and BDubs is taking another step backwards, and Etho is following. "I could have betrayed you day one, and I didn't. I'm just asking for your help, Etho. You and me together, right?"

"BDubs--"

"It's the deep water, isn't it?" BDubs croons, like he's speaking to a child. "The deep water scares you? It's okay. You're fine."

Etho is fine. His breathing is slow, his heartbeat even. He wants to be scared. He should be scared. But BDubs is his friend.

BDubs reaches up to Etho's neck, not to strangle or to threaten, but to gently cup his hands around him. He pulls gently on Etho, not to drag Etho down, but to raise himself up, so they're nearly eye to eye. Etho feels water around his shoulders, and shivers.

"It's okay," BDubs says. "I would never hurt you, I promise. We don't have to go any deeper." His voice even and calm, inexorable. Etho's pulse doesn't quicken when he says, "You know how many people drown in shallow water? It's easy. I'll be with you the whole time."

The water is around Etho's neck, and BDubs is above him just slightly. One hand raises slowly to the back of Etho's head, fingers gently tangling in his hair. It is the caress of someone who cares for him deeply, someone who wants him to stay. The feeling is wholly dissonant from the words being spoken. Water? Drowning? How could someone who loves him so much drown him?

"You want to stay with me, right?" BDubs asks. "You and me together, we'd be unstoppable, Etho. The best duo the Life Series has ever seen."

BDub's hand on Etho's neck moves just slightly, the thumb pulling around to rest on his adam's apple. The hand in his hair clenches just a little. A warning. "You're not thinking about betraying me, are you?"

Etho shivers again. He wants to be afraid.

"You know, Grian said some things before he drowned," BDubs's hand on his neck tightened just a little. Etho could feel his pulse against BDub's thumb, finally, finally beginning to quicken. "He said you were a survivor. He said you'd leave me -- heh -- high and dry. You wouldn't do that, would you, Etho?"

Etho's pulse quickened more. There was a cold numbness in his limbs that he hadn't even noticed gathering, and his sluggishly awakening panic pushed it from him.

"BDubs," Etho said, his voice small and hoarse in his throat, "let me go."

"Etho..." BDubs said warningly.

"Let me go!" Etho shouted, planting his hands on BDub's chest and shoving backwards away. What he felt, in that brief second, was neither skin nor flesh, nor the softness of fabric. He felt tangled river weeds, and fish scales, slimy and cold against his skin. The cursed thing that looked like BDubs but wasn't, released Etho spitefully. His claws tore from Etho's neck, scraped along the back of his head to come free with pale strands of his hair. Suddenly there were arms around him, and Etho screamed and thrashed as he was dragged.

"I've got you dude! I've got you!"

It was Skizz, his voice a thunderous bellow in Etho's ear, his arms feverishly hot against him where they clamped like vices around his waist. Skizz dragged Etho from the water like he weighed nothing. Etho got his feet underneath himself and clung to Skizz, staggering out of the water as quick as he could. He heard feet pounding on the dock, and glanced over to watch Tango sprint across the wood. He stooped, grabbed up Etho's basket, and sprinted back with it, the reaching, clawed hand of the thing that looked like BDubs snapping for his ankles and missing.

"I got him!" Skizz shouted to Tango, scrambling onto the grass, refusing to let Etho go until they were well up the path. "Did you see how close he was?!"

"Yeah I saw!" Tango snapped, choking on his own fear, gulping in air and coughing it back out again. "It tried to drag me in!"

"Oh my god, are you okay dude?" Skizz demanded, and, when Tango nodded, he turned back to Etho. "Are you okay? I didn't see you go under. Can you breathe?"

Etho, who had collapsed into the grass the moment Skizz released him, lay there gasping like a hooked fish. He shivered, pale and cold from how long he spent in the water-- how long had he been in the water. He could still feel the thing's burning claws in streaks across his neck, and a tickling of blood at the back of his head.

"Etho?"

"I'm okay," Etho gasped, "I'm sorry I just-- I needed-- I wanted--"

"I know what you wanted!" Tango snapped angrily, the anger of someone who had risked his life. The anger of someone who thought a friend of his was dead, or dying. "But it's not him, Etho."

"It sounds like him," Etho whispered. He threw an arm over his eyes and shivered again. "It sounds like him, though."

"I know it does buddy, I know," Skizz said, his voice full of sympathy and pity. He waited with mountainous patience as Etho pulled himself together, and then helped Etho stand.

Together, they walked back to the fort.

Behind them, something cursed and hungry in the dark water, sang, and its voice was sweet and familiar.

[thecharacterchronicler]

Memorable || Sebastian Sallow x Reader || Smut

Outline: Sebastian invites you to the ball, the very first one you get to attend at Hogwarts. After learning that you have yet a few more first times to experience, he vows to make this night memorable for both of you.

Word count: 5’595

Warnings: Aged up characters, first time sex and explicit smut.

Sebastian was sitting on the grass, his textbook opened and resting on his legs. Despite the soft spring rays of sunshine warming his face, the birds singing in the trees and your quiet presence right next to him, he still felt nervous.

He stared at you in awe of how beautiful your eyes looked in bright sunlight, how shiny and soft your hair seemed to be, how the first two buttons of your blouse were popped open and how he could catch a glimpse of a forbidden sight every time you slightly leaned forward to turn the page of your own textbook, scribbling notes on the parchment on your lap. He had suggested you studied together this afternoon, which wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence, but this time, getting himself to focus on anything else but you proved close to impossible.

“Hey, what are the two of you up to ?” A familiar voice asked. Sebastian managed to peel his eyes away from you to see Garreth Weasley, making his way to you with a friendly smile on his face.

“Studying.” You replied, barely looking up at him which somehow pleased Sebastian more than what he’d want to admit. “You should do the same if you want to pass your exam.”

“A wise advice.” Garreth replied, shaking his head as he sat down on the grass next to you.

Sebastian groaned. Getting you to agree to a study session with him without letting Ominis know about it had been harder than what he anticipated since the three of you were almost always together but he had managed to make it happen, but Garreth joining you wasn’t something he had planned on. He wanted to be alone with you… Not to mention that he didn’t like the way the redheaded gryffindor had decided to sit, so close to you, his knee almost touching yours…

“Oh look, there they are.” Sebastian said, pointing behind you to redirect Garreth’s attention somewhere other than on the parchment paper on your lap, where your skirt was slightly pulled up and letting a silver of your skin appear.

You and Garreth both turned around in time to see a group of Beauxbâtons students passing by. They had arrived a few days earlier along with students from Durmstrang for the Triwizard tournament organized at Hogwarts. This year being the ten year anniversary of the tournament, Professor Black had decided to make it special by hosting it in the middle of spring instead of waiting until winter.

The French students were so elegantly dressed, walking graciously towards the castle like a fascinating herd of absolutely gorgeous creatures. Sebastian knew the new students were Garreth’s current obsession, he even knew he kept failing to find the courage to invite one of them to the ball so, as expected, the young man jumped on his feet to take a better look at the light blue airy uniforms passing by, even awkwardly waving in their direction.

Unfortunately for him, none of the French girls paid him any mind, only one of them shooting a bright smile in Sebastian’s direction before vanishing inside the castle. Sebastian had smiled back at her instinctively, without really thinking about it, but the exchange between him and the Beauxbatons student didn’t go unnoticed, causing him to face Garreth’s envious disbelief and your dark stare.

“I think you caught the attention of the one with the long legs and plump lips, you lucky bastard.”

“I was just being friendly.” Sebastian argued, unsure of how to interpret the way you were staring at him. The only thing he knew was that he was in imminent danger of an ancient magic lighting hitting him if he didn’t justify himself quickly enough.

“I get it, I really want to be friendly with them too. All of them. At the same time.” Garreth continued, with a stupid smile on his face.

“Alright, you guys can drool together all you want but I have to study so I’ll find a quieter place to do so.” You snapped, closing your book and rolling your parchement papers with impatience.

“Wait.” Sebastian demanded but you were already walking away. He watched you until you reached the doors leading back inside the castle. Maybe you were dressed in a plain gray uniform like everybody else in Hogwarts, maybe you weren’t that gracious while walking around the castle but by Merlin, you were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. Those girls from Beauxbâtons were so elegant and full of poise which seemed to seduce pretty much every other guy but not him. Sebastian Sallow couldn’t care less about elegance, decorum or grace, because all he wanted was you and the beautifully chaotic way you fought against poachers, ennemies and acromentulas. You and the insanely hot way you always beat him up at duels. You.

“Dammit, Garreth.” He groaned, looking up at him and noticing how he still was very clearly lost in his daydreams about the Beauxbatons girls. “I wanted to ask her to go to the ball with me.”

“Who ? Long legs and plump lips ?”

“No, you idiot.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “I swear if I missed my chance because of you and someone else asks her…”

“Well, I heard Leander talking about inviting her the other day so maybe you should hurry up.”

Sebastian cursed under his breath, packing his books and quickly stood back up. He reached for Garreth’s shoulder, forcefully pulling him with him as he headed to the castle to follow on your steps.

“I’m going to need your help.” Sebastian explained, the gryffindor cloak of his friend tightly balled up in his fist as he dragged him along until they reached the library doors. “Mrs Scribner banned me from the library for the rest of the semester so we’re going to have to be careful… and creative.”

“What the hell did you even do for her to go to such extremes ? Usually she only gives you detention.”

“Err, I might have damaged a few pieces of furniture when I broke into the restricted section… Turns out those armchairs really aren’t sturdy enough to resist the embers of a few confrigo spells shot at the restricted section gates… And old books ? Highly inflammable.”

Garreth quietly nodded at him, no stranger to such incidents himself. Together, they sneaked inside the library, stopping to hide behind the first bookshelf, out of sight from Scribner’s desk. Both leaned over to take a look, easily spotting you sitting at a nearby table, all alone.

Sebastian called your name, as quietly as he could but you didn’t hear him. Garreth tried making random sounds, as if you would be more keen to answer to a bad imitation of an owl shriek rather than your own name, but nothing worked, you stayed focused on your homework.

…Homework ? Brillant.

Sebastian opened his texbook, retrieving a crumpled piece of parchement on which he scribbled something. He balled up the paper in his hand and peeked from behind the bookshelf, aiming at you and throwing the ball of parchement, hitting the back of your head. You barely moved in reaction, looking around but not where he was hiding from the librarian.

He scribbled another note and repeated the process, this time the ball of paper getting caught in your hair. He heard your loud, annoyed, sigh from afar as you pulled his note out of your locks and placed it on the table next to your book without giving it a second thought.

“And this is the hero of Hogwarts.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. Garreth let out an amused sound, reminding your slytherin friend of his presence. “Go see her, tell her to check the notes.”

“What ?! Why me ?” Garreth asked, a bit too loudly.

“Because if Scribner catches me here, I’ll probably get expelled.” Sebastian reminded him. It was only fair that Garreth helped him since he was the one who had ruined his first plan but the young man seemed pretty uncomfortable at the thought. “What are you scared of ?”

“Her.” He admitted, without hesitation. “She’s in a bad mood because you flirted with the Beauxbâtons girl and I know better than to go and face her wrath.”

“I did not flirt with that girl… Now, go!” He pushed him out of their hiding place and Garreth hesitantly walked towards you, glancing over his shoulder a few times to make sure Sebastian didn’t change his mind.

You didn’t notice him standing next to you right away, too busy taking notes on a chapter until he cleared his throat, making you jump.

“By Merlin, what do you want ?” You asked him, slightly annoyed to be interrupted while studying once again.

“Err, Sebastian says you need to check the notes.” Garreth repeated, awkwardly glancing to the bookshelf behind which Sebastian was still hiding.

“The notes ?” You repeated, confused, wondering if it had something to do with your homework until Garreth pointed at the ball of crumpled paper on the table. You reached for it, smoothing it so that you could read a single word written in runny blue ink.

“Ball ?” You read out loud, looking at Garreth for an explanation but he clearly had none. You turned around and bended down to pick up the other ball that he pointed to, still on the floor, and repeated your gesture to smooth out the wrinkled paper. “With ?”

What were they up to ? Was it a prank ? A joke ? Because you definitely didn’t have time for that, not so close to your exam.

You looked up to where Garreth kept nervously glancing, seeing Sebastian’s freckled face peeking from behind a shelf. Your eyes met but he didn’t register it quickly enough to stop his movement as he aimed another balled up note right at your face.

Ouch. It hit your nose before falling on the floor.

He mouthed a quiet sorry in your direction and you shook your head disapprovingly before picking up the last note.

“Me ?” You read, placing the wrinkled notes next to each other, like a puzzle. “Ball with me ?”

You looked at Sebastian again. A slight pink blush was now coloring his cheeks as he anxiously stared back at you.

“Well ? What do I tell him ?” Garreth asked, unable to remain still any longer.

“Oh uh… Tell him to meet me tomorrow afternoon in the gardens.” You replied. Your friend seemed to find the answer odd but didn’t say anything, simply walking back to Sebastian to rely the message to him.

Sebastian listened intently then looked at you again, a confused expression on his face. So you shyly nodded at him and a smile slowly appeared on his lips. He felt himself bursting with joy and pride that you accepted his proposal, even forgetting that he was persona non grata in the library as he fully stepped out of his hiding spot before Scribner’s voice reminded him of what he risked if he got caught. So, with one last smile in your direction, he ran off before she could spot him, leaving you to your studies with a silly smile on your face too.

The next afternoon, Sebastian met you as promised at the same place you had attempted to study together the day before. You weren’t too sure what to say or do as he walked to you, the question of whether he had asked you to go to the ball with him as a friend or as something more had kept you awake all night long. The only way to know for sure would be to ask him, but you couldn’t quite gather the courage to do so. Not yet.

Instead, you awkwardly led him further away from the mass of other students, behind a tall bush and on a small patch of wildflowers. You stood with your head held high in front of him, trying to fake the confidence you suddenly lacked in his presence, his coy smile making it even harder to keep your composure and not melt in front of him right away.

“I’d like to practice.” You told him, a bit embarrassed to admit that you didn’t know how to dance. Not properly. Not like the Beauxbâtons girls probably did.

“Practice dancing ?”

“Yes. Do you think you could… teach me ?”

A faint amused smile appeared on Sebastian’s face, instantly making you regret asking for his help. He was probably going to laugh at you for lacking such a basic skill in this time and age...

“Of course.” He simply said, stepping closer until he was able to place his hand on your hip, the warmth of his skin radiating on your own through your skirt. He outstretched his other arm to the side, his palm up to welcome your hand in his. You followed his lead, resting your other hand on his shoulder, the unusual proximity between you leaving you breathless for a moment.

He took a step to the side and you followed a bit late and again when he stepped back, unable to properly anticipate his movements. You stared at your feet, trying to follow his lead and after a while, you felt like you were getting slightly better at it…

“Now ideally, you should be looking at me.” He instructed, amused by how complicated it seemed to be for you to let him lead you while he was so comfortable swaying to imaginary music.

You looked up to his brown eyes, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“When did you learn how to dance ?” You asked him, in an attempt to make small talk so that you wouldn’t be staring into his hypnotizingly beautiful eyes in silence.

“Years ago, with Anne. Ever since our first year at Hogwarts she’s been looking forward to the balls. Back then she promised that if I practiced dancing with her, she’d let me borrow her books on advanced metamorphosis.”

“A deal you couldn’t possibly refuse.” You smiled, imagining a young Sebastian dancing with his twin and pretending that it wasn’t fun.

“Obviously.” He smiled back, as you realized that you had managed to follow his steps without looking for a moment.

With his face so close to yours, smiling at each other, it was almost tempting to lean just a little bit closer and see what would happen if you pressed your lips against his. Would he step away ? Would he return the kiss ? The way he was looking down at you made you feel like the latter was the most plausible outcome but you didn’t have much time to ponder as he suddenly attempted to twirl you around… And you crashed against his body instead of gracefully turning in his arms.

“Sorry, it’s my first time doing this.” You said, feeling the need to justify yourself.

“Will it be your first ball ?” He asked, curious.

“First ball, first dance, first date…”

His eyes sparked with excitement and some kind of mischief at your words, prompting him to try to twirl you again just so that you’d crash into him once more. With your chest pressed against his, he held you closer and tighter, looking down at your face with a smirk.

“You can count on me to make all your first times memorable then.” He promised.

“Will you please stop it, Sebastian ? The whole bench is trembling because you keep bouncing your leg.” Ominis complained.

Sebastian tried to still his body, taking a deep breath to appease the growing nervousness inside of him but a few seconds later he was back at absently bouncing his leg again, causing Ominis to sigh in despair.

After a few afternoons of practicing dancing with you, Sebastian felt comfortable and rather confident doing it. Especially with you. It had been the highlight of his day for the few days leading up to the ball, he’d joined you behind that bush and get to hold you in his arms for an hour or so, swaying with you and pulling you close every once in a while, each time getting dangerously closer to letting his instinct kick in and passionately kissing you… But he had promised himself that he would be on his best behavior with you, that he’d be a gentleman, and that he’d make your first ball as amazing as it could be.

But he just couldn’t help it but feel nervous. It wasn’t a quiet dance in the garden anymore but a real party with music, nice clothes and other people around. He was worried everything would be different this way, and mostly, he was worried that after this night, he wouldn’t get to share with you such intimate moments like you did while practicing anymore.

He tugged on his collar, adjusted his vest and ran a hand through his brown hair. He had tried to comb them back in the same way Ominis did with his but his hair were too unruly to fully comply with that idea, some locks already shooting in different directions and sometimes grazing his forehead.

All the students old enough to attend the ball were making their way to the ballroom, excitedly chatting and laughing. The crowd was growing outside the doors as well, young people dressed in gorgeous gowns and suits waiting for their date to arrive.

Sebastian spotted Garreth and Leander entering the ballroom together and smiled mockingly at the realization that neither of them had been able to find a date. A while later, Poppy shyly approached, dressed in a pretty extravagant yellow dress for such a usually quiet girl. She complimented Ominis on his white costume and they awkwardly linked their arms together as they left Sebastian on his own.

His stomach tightened as the possibility that maybe you had changed your mind and didn’t plan on attending anymore occurred to him. Or maybe you had decided to go with someone else at the last minute. Maybe a guy from Durmstrang convinced you to sneak out with him instead and would steal all your first times from him…

But then, he saw you.

From the moment you walked in, everyone else disappeared from his sight, leaving only you in your gorgeous dress. You were like a vision, something otherworldly and he couldn’t believe that it was him you were walking towards. How did he get so lucky ?

“Good evening.” You greeted him, with a smile but he didn’t return it right away, too busy staring at you in awe of your beauty.

“You look… You are beautiful.” He said, nervously pulling on his collar again.

“Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

He smiled, glad that you liked the all black suit he had bought for the event. It had costed him more than what he had budgeted, but he was determined to look his best for you. He offered you his arm and you took it, gladly using it to keep you balance as you walked down the stairs in your impressive ball gown and uncomfortable shoes.

You entered the ballroom together, marveling at how beautifully the decor was and how lovely the music playing sounded. You tried the buffet, eating and drinking merrily at a table with your friends before putting your dance practice to good use. Sebastian twirled you around, bended you over and even kept you closer than required for a few dances, making you laugh and smile joyfully while having a great time.

But unfortunately, it was all over too soon, the party coming to an end as more and more students left the ballroom. Soon, Sebastian and you were the only ones left still swaying to the music, the few last couples quickly grabbing something to eat or drink before heading to bed.

“Maybe we should go.” You told your date, reluctantly. Both of you could have continued dancing and holding each other like this forever.

Sebastian nodded as the last song ended, releasing your from his embrace. He walked you out of the ballroom, leaving the magical decor and the soft music behind. In the hall, faint sunlight was already shining behind the windows, indicating it was very early morning. He looked down at you, the thought of letting you go back to your dorm and be separated from you again feeling all too overwhelming suddenly.

But what other choice did he have ? Maybe next year, after you both graduated from Hogwarts he could ask you to move in with him in Feldcroft, or maybe he could follow you wherever you wanted to go… But for a few more months, you still were students and had no choice but to each sleep separately.

Resigned, Sebastian quietly walked you back to your dorm, adjusting his pace to yours and your aching feet and tired legs. Once you reached the entrance of your common room, you turned around to look at him, unsure of what to say apart from wishing him a good night.

“And thank you for such a memorable first time.” You added, with a smile.

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, giving him a sudden unexplainable need to share many more first times with you. So, as a rush of pure adrenaline seized him, he stepped closer and his lips crashed against yours, kissing you more feverishly than you imagined he would. Your first kiss.

He pressed his body against yours, his hands finding the small of your back. He deepened the kiss and, with the strength of his own body, forced you to take a few steps back until you were both inside the - relative - privacy of your common room.

“You shouldn’t, if someone catches you here you’ll get detention.” You reminded him, knowing the intrusion of a slytherin inside your dorm would cause quite a scandal if anyone heard about it.

“I don’t care.” Sebastian replied, silencing your worries with another hungry kiss.

All he ever knew was the Slytherin common room and dorms, he had never stepped inside any other students quarters during his seven years at Hogwarts. Of course, he had always been curious about the other houses’ dorms. He often said he would love to see what they looked like, to compare them to his own but now that he finally was inside one of those forbidden areas, he couldn’t care less about what it looked like. The only thing that mattered to him at this very moment was where he could find a couch - or a table, anything would do - to lay you down so that he could take that dress off of you.

The common room was plunged in darkness at this hour, the only light coming from the dying fire in the chimney and filtering through the tainted glass windows. You bumped into an armchair and he cursed when his shoulder hit a stone statue, but he kept walking you backwards until you could no longer move, your legs pressed against the back of the sofa facing the fireplace.

Finally.

Sebastian allowed his hands to roam over the fabric of your dress, stopping at your shoulders and slowly peeling the straps off until they loosely rested on your arms. Then, he gripped the soft fabric over your belly, pulling it down in a torturously slow motion, revealing your skin inch by inch.

“We might get caught.” You warned him, in a whisper.

Probably. But he was too far gone now to step back and walk away. After all this time, daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch you like this, imagining the curves and lines of your body hiding underneath your school uniform, wanting you to be his and only his, he was too close to fulfilling the dangerous desire he had fought against for so long to renounce.

“It’s alright.” He breathed, his fingers grazing your lips as he angled your face in his direction, his brown eyes plunging into yours, a hint of mischief still blazing in his gaze. “You’ll just have to be very quiet.”

You couldn’t quite decide what to do. The consequences you’ll both have to face if you got caught doing this would be enormous… But at the same time, you had wanted this for so long - probably as long as he did - so stopping him and sending him back to his dorm seemed to require a huge amount of willpower and you clearly lacked it. You nervously glance to the stairs leading to the bedrooms, making sure no noise could be heard expect for the faint cracks of the fire and the sound of the wet kisses Sebastian was placing all over your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder…

Your dress pooled around your feet, exposing yourself to him and, although you felt kind of vulnerable like this, the hunger that passed on his face as he took in your almost naked body in front of him was an obvious indication of how desperately he wanted you.

By Merlin, you were beautiful. Even more beautiful than what he ever imagined in his daydreams. You looked like you were made for him, like every curve of your body was perfectly tailored for his hands to caress, like the softness of your skin was an invitation for his kisses and his touch. If his heart wasn’t beating so fast in his chest, he would have wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he was dreaming again, but if it was the case, he sure as hell didn’t want to wake up. Not now. Not before he could lead you around the sofa and lay you down on it, wanting to remember how incredible you looked in this very moment, with the dark leather of the couch around you and the warm light of the chimney flashing in your eyes.

He quickly took off his vest and unbutonned his shirt, feeling like his body was on fire. His pants were getting alarmingly tighter around his growing erection. Everything inside him was begging to have you. Right here, right now. But he knew better than to rush things. He wanted to savor this, make sure that if it was his only opportunity to have you, he’ll take his sweet time to carve each moment in his memory forever.

He sat at the end of the couch, his hands finding your thighs and attempting to push them apart but you stayed still under his gentle touch, nervousness rising in you.

“I’ve never… What if I’m bad at this ? Like I’m bad at dancing.” You admitted, afraid he might be disappointed with you.

“Nonsense.” He said, with a cocky grin. “But I won’t mind if you want to do like we did for dancing and practice every day until you’re comfortable enough.”

You laughed and your body relaxed, allowing him to slowly pull your underwear off and spread your legs apart. Before you could even realize, his face disappeared between your thighs.

Sebastian knew one thing or two about how to make a woman comfortable, all thanks to the forbidden books and journals Garreth had shared with him and Ominis last year. He had made sure to remember every tip and trick written on the pages, understanding that - unlike men - women needed to be prepared and sufficiently aroused in order for them to find an intercourse enjoyable… So he was just doing as advised, running his tongue between your folds. One thing he didn’t expect though was the way you reacted to this new sensation, shuddering with pleasure under his soft licks. He must have been doing something right.

With this welcomed boost to his confidence, he kept moving his tongue over your sensitive skin, exploring and tasting you, finding it surprisingly pleasant and delicious. He could faintly hear your ragged breathing, your thighs pressed against his ears preventing him from focusing on anything else but you and your pleasure. At some point, you reached for his hair, your fingers entangling in his tousled locks, a soft moan leaving your lips which was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

But he knew it wasn’t it. Not yet.

He had to make sure you were ready to take him. All of him. So he plunged a finger passed your entrance, making sure to keep lapping at your center so that it would still feel pleasurable to you. You trembled in reaction, thighs tightening around his head. He took it as a silent permission to keep going, gently pumping his finger in and out. After a while, he boldly added another one to stretch you out for him a bit more which seemed to surprise you at first but the discomfort you felt quickly faded with his simultaneous - and merciless - treatment of your clit with his tongue.

You arched your back, doing your best to stay quiet as a wave of pleasure completely took hold of you. Sebastian resurfaced in front of you, watching with a satisfied grin as your body shook with the orgasm he had given you, his chest puffed out with pride.

But even though he loved to see you come undone, especially since it was his doing, he couldn’t forget the fully grown and rock hard erection in his pants, almost painfully demanding attention too. He reached for his trousers, if only to free his cock from the tight fabric around it and was surprised to see you spread your legs open again, silently inviting him in for more.

He angled his stiff cock at your entrance, ready to push past your glistening folds but you placed a hand on his bare chest, stopping him.

“Be gentle.” You asked him, before allowing him to continue.

He looked at you with a tender smile, his erection slowly sliding inside you as he leaned over, until his face was close enough to yours to plant a kiss on your lips, a softness that clashed with the overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching your insides. It wasn’t painful but the sensation felt foreign and it took you a moment to get used to it.

Sebastian stayed still, giving you time to adjust to him, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on your lips, cheeks and neck in the process. When he finally felt your body relax, as if it had finally accepted his presence inside you, he attempted to move. Very slowly.

Attentive to the expressions on your face, he made sure to slow down every time you grimaced, until finally, your features told him that you were starting to enjoy his movements as much as he did.

“This feels pretty nice.” You informed him, breathlessly.

Pretty nice ? Was it all it was to you ? Because to him, it felt like fireworks going off in his brain, the feeling of his cock buried inside your warm and wet center, your walls so tight around him was the best thing he ever experienced and if he could have it his way, he’d simply never stop fucking you.

He wanted you to feel as good as he did, not just pretty nice… So he decided to stop worrying about hurting you and finally let go of his restraint, thrusting into you much deeper and quicker than before. You closed your eyes, making him unable to interpret the way you felt about it all anymore. But then, a moan slipped from your lips, making his body tingle with pleasure in reaction. He was making you feel good. Finally.

“Faster.” You demanded, your voice a barely audible plea among your panted breaths.

But Sebastian heard you loud and clear, putting all the strength he had left into his fast thrusts until you tensed all around him, your cry of bliss causing him to release himself inside of you with a loud gasp of relief.

Then, he collapsed on top of you, his face resting on your heaving chest as your body trembled with a pleasure like none other.

“That was…” He started, interrupting himself to catch his breath.

“Memorable ?” You finished, with a giggle.

He agreed, his body feeling so numb that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to move from on top of you. Not that he wanted to anyway. Now that he had you, he was determined to never let you go again. He’d be the most annoying boyfriend you could ever ask for, he’ll follow you around like a puppy, he’ll do whatever you asked of him and he’ll make sure to kiss and hug you at the most inappropriate and inconvenient times…

A noise resounded up the stairs, suddenly alerting you both, reminding you of what you risked if you got caught by someone in such a compromising situation.

“It must be the prefect.” You whispered, helping Sebastian get off of you so that you could both get up and move. “You need to go.”

You helped him button his shirt up as he tugged his satisfied cock back into his pants. He reached for his vest and you reached for your dress, putting it back on as quickly as you could. Once Sebastian was more or less presentable, he rushed to the door as some footsteps slowly approached the common room. You anxiously looked, hoping he’d be able to get away before your prefect could see him and report him but instead of leaving, he hurried back to you to plant one last kiss on your lips. You quietly giggled, pushing him away after a few seconds to remind him that he needed to go and he did, running off into the deserted corridors and back to his dorm with yet another silly smile plastered on his face, very similar to the one that stayed on yours for the rest of your short night.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[burningred1989]

SHE

A/N: Harry Styles begins having vivid dreams about a mysterious girl he’s never met.

MASTERLIST

<<<<<

Harry Styles had always been inspired by the peculiarities of his own mind. Whether it was fleeting memories or emotions too complex to explain, they often wove their way into his music. But this time, it was something—or rather, someone—completely different.

It started months ago. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, the faint traces of a dream still clinging to him. In those dreams, a girl would appear, her face so vivid it was as though she were standing right in front of him. Her features were unmistakable: soft yet striking, framed by hair that glinted in the sunlight of his subconscious. What stood out most were her cherry red lips, bold against her otherwise natural presence, and her cherry red nails that danced at her sides as she moved.

Harry didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t someone he recognized from his life, nor did she resemble anyone he’d met before. Yet, she felt familiar, like a whisper in a language he didn’t quite understand.

The dreams continued, night after night, until Harry couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. She was haunting, in the most captivating way. That’s when the idea for a song began to form.

<<<<<

Sitting in the studio one rainy afternoon, Harry strummed his guitar absentmindedly. The lyrics spilled out of him like a confession he hadn’t realized he needed to make:

"She lives in daydreams with me, she's the first one that I see..."

His bandmates noticed the shift in him, the way he seemed lost in thought even when he was fully present. “You alright, mate?” Mitch had asked one evening, seeing Harry staring into space, his pen hovering over a notebook.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a small, wistful smile. “Just... can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Who?” Mitch pressed.

Harry hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the truth tasting strange on his tongue. “She’s not real. But I see her—every time I close my eyes.”

<<<<<

Months later, "She" had become one of Harry's favorite songs to perform live. The mystery of it, the way the music carried a weight he couldn’t explain, made it feel intimate even in front of thousands.

It was a warm summer night, the air electric with excitement as Harry took the stage in a sold-out arena. The crowd roared as he launched into his set, each song more exhilarating than the last. And then, the chords for "She" began to play.

As Harry sang the opening lines, his eyes swept across the sea of fans, their faces illuminated by the stage lights. He loved these moments—connecting with people through his music. But tonight, something shifted.

There she was.

Standing in the crowd, swaying gently to the rhythm, her hands in the pockets of her loose jeans. Her cherry red lipstick glowed under the lights, matching the vivid nail polish that caught his attention every time her fingers moved. She looked exactly as she had in his dreams—carefree, radiant, almost otherworldly.

Harry’s breath hitched midsong, but he kept going, his gaze returning to her again and again. She wasn’t at the front of the crowd, nor was she trying to grab his attention like so many others. She was just... there, lost in the music, as though the song had been written for her.

"She lives in daydreams with me..."

Harry’s voice took on a deeper, more vulnerable edge as he continued to sing, unable to tear his eyes away from her. His heart raced, but he forced himself to stay composed. If he acknowledged her too openly, would she vanish like a mirage?

<<<<<

The second the encore ended, Harry hurried backstage, his mind spinning. As the cheers of the crowd echoed in the distance, he grabbed his head of security.

“Did you see her?” he asked, his voice urgent.

“Who?”

“The girl with the red lipstick—cherry red. She was wearing jeans, her nails were red too. I need you to find her and bring her here.”

The security team sprang into action, scouring the venue. Harry paced back and forth in his dressing room, his thoughts a whirlwind. Was it really her? The girl from his dreams? How could that even be possible?

Minutes turned into an hour. Finally, the head of security returned, shaking his head. “She’s gone, Harry. Must’ve left right after the show.”

Harry’s heart sank. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. How could she just vanish?

He slumped into a chair, the adrenaline from the concert fading into a heavy sadness. His mind replayed the moment he saw her in the crowd, the way she swayed to the music, so perfectly in sync with everything he’d imagined.

<<<<<

For days after, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He questioned himself—had he imagined it? Was it wishful thinking, his dreams bleeding into reality? But deep down, he knew what he’d seen.

Fans began posting clips from the concert online, capturing the moment when Harry’s eyes locked on something—or someone—in the crowd. “Does anyone else notice how distracted he seems during She?” one fan commented. Others speculated about the inspiration behind the song, wondering if the girl from Harry’s dreams had come to life.

But Harry stayed silent, holding the memory close. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but one thing was certain: she was no longer just a figment of his imagination.

She was real.

And now, she was out there somewhere, living and breathing beyond the confines of his dreams.

PART 2: Cherry Scented Vinyl Shop

[leighsartworks216]

Damn Him

Father!Zayne x Mother!Reader

I NEVER write baby fics or anything with kids and shit EVER. So when I got this idea and felt something deep in my core about it, I simply had to get it out of my system. I'm sorry ;-;

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, angst (at the end), family fic, breasts, Dawnbreaker, swearing

Word Count: 1,275

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Crying broke through the still night air. They crackled slightly, muffled through the baby monitor on your bedside table. Nonetheless, you were awake.

The bed is already starting to shift when you're opening your eyes. You blindly reach out and grab onto the soft sleeve of Zayne's pajama shirt.

"I've got it..." you murmur. "She's prob’ly hungry."

He watches blearily as you slowly push yourself up into a sit. "Are you sure?"

You hum, nodding. You let go of him and pick up the monitor, waving it in the air with a playful, yet sleepy, grin. "It's on my side tonight, remember?" You turn down the volume, set it back down and get to your feet. "Go back to bed, lovey. I'll be back soon."

Zayne sighs, but he stays where he is as you pull a cardigan of his around your shoulders. He listens to the sounds of your shared home: the quiet shuffle of your slippers, the hiccuping cries of your daughter, the soothing lilt of your voice as you calm her down.

He glances at the digital clock beside him. It's only 2am; there's still plenty of time to get enough sleep for work tomorrow. As much as his body wants to fight the exhaustion and join you, he knows you'd scold him if he tried. He trusts you, anyway. There's nothing he can do right now to help.

So, he slips back under the blankets and turns onto his side. As the blankets fall into place, the rustling silences, and he tunes back into the lullaby you sing. It leads him down into the embrace of a peaceful slumber.

When next he wakes, he's disoriented. He blinks droopily at the emptiness of your side of the bed, then at the clock that reads 3:30am. There's no distinct sounds coming from the baby monitor. Down the hall is quiet. Why aren't you in bed?

He pushes the blankets off of himself and sits up, sliding on his slippers like it’s second nature. The cool air of the bedroom doesn't bother him as he crosses the room and out the door.

The door to the nursery is wide open. Blue moonlight pours though, spilling onto the floor and up the opposite wall. He squints slightly as he peeks inside. Any fears he could have vanish as he sees you.

You're sitting back in the armchair beside the window, head tilted back at an awkward angle and mouth open around quiet snores. Your shirt is pulled down to expose one of your breasts. Your daughter is using it as a pillow as your arms securely hold her, even as you are fast asleep.

Zayne drinks it all in. Your sleep-rumpled hair and dark eye bags, the shimmer of a drool trail along your chin, the uncomfortable way the collar of your shirt pulls against the underside of your breast. Your daughter, Jasmine, his beloved little flower, clinging with her tiny baby fists to his cardigan you stole, her chubby cheek resting against your skin and the other catching a stray moonbeam. He considers taking a photo of the moment, though he eventually decides against it. His two girls need to be put to bed and he doesn't wish to delay that any longer. Besides, if nothing else, this moment has been seared into his mind. That is enough for him.

He's as quiet as can be as he crosses the room to the chair. Carefully, he slowly pries Jasmine's hands from the cardigan. Her body is so small and warm in his hands as he lifts her into his arms. Oftentimes, he's overwhelmed with the desire to hold her forever, to feel her tiny little heartbeat alongside his own. Just like people save ultrasounds or ink-presses of their child's feet and hands, Zayne wonders if it would be strange to save an echocardiogram as a memento.

She doesn't stir as he lays her down in the crib. Her long, dark eyelashes curl over her round cheeks, picturesque. Her onesie is covered in little snowmen. He should make one for her with his Evol tomorrow. He can only imagine the bright-eyed stare she'd give him as he creates such cute things out of thin air.

Leaning down, he presses the lightest of kisses to her head, just barely starting to see hair growth. Now to take care of the other girl in his life.

Nimble fingers pull your shirt back over your breast, drawing the open sides of the cardigan together to keep you warm. He debates between waking you or not. And although he really should wake you, he ends up lifting you from the chair and into his arms. The moonlight caresses his back as he carries you down the hall, back to your bedroom. He tucks your feet in first as he lays you down before pulling the blankets up over you. Just as he did with Jasmine, he kisses your forehead, willing portions of his soul to transfer to you in hopes he can somehow get across how much he utterly and truly loves you.

He grabs the baby monitor before he rounds the bed back to his side. He turns the volume dial back up and sets it on his nightstand beside the clock. You'll get onto him about it being your turn to take care of the baby for the entire night, a system born out of his tendency to do everything himself due to his workaholic nature. He'll accept the scolding come daylight. You'll forgive him. You always do. Even if it's with an exaggerated sigh and a fond eye roll.

He lays on his side to face you, the love of his life. He couldn't dream of being anywhere but here, by your side, as he allows sleep to overcome him once again.

-

He wakes up.

Hollow.

He always feels hollow after dreams like that. And why shouldn't he feel the weight of what is missing in his life?

His bed is empty save for him. The room down the hall is full of random stuff he can't be bothered to worry about. It's a guest room; he's not having any guests over, so why bother?

The void within him cries to be filled. It opens like a yawning mouth, only an unfathomable depth waiting within, yearning for that life. The life that doctor has. A life he can never have.

Never will he be able to wake up to your face right beside him. Never will he be able to hold his daughter. Never will he be able to have that life with you.

It isn't fair. It's not-

He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, biting back the shuddering breaths and the sting of tears. He’ll be forced to watch his daughter grow up through that doctor’s eyes. And it’s not even his. He has no rights to make a claim on her. He never will.

Relegated to watching you grow old through someone else’s eyes, instead of being there with you, to hold and help and love.

The sensor beeps nearby. He turns his head to look, blinking away the moisture in his eyes and meeting the breaking dawn that shines in through the window. A red dot blinks at him. It’s only a few blocks away.

He imagines for a brief second if the victim this time was you.

You, carrying a little baby in your arms, calling him a murderer. The idea of taking her life-

He closes his eyes and wills the thoughts away. Damn that doctor for having the life he can never have. Damn him.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip

[n6viia]

Wriothesley hears rumors about a beautiful song at the prison and decides to investigate, only to be confronted by a mysterious siren.

Melody of the Deep

-

The waves crashed against the Fortress of Meropide, their sound echoing through the cold stone walls. Wriothesley sat in his office, a cup of tea in hand but he wasn’t focused on the reports spread across his desk. Lately, strange things had been happening. Some of his guards swore they’d heard singing coming from the waters surrounding the fortress.

At first Wriothesley dismissed it as nothing more than tired minds playing tricks. But when two guards vanished, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Now as the fortress grew quiet for the night, Wriothesley made his way to the lower levels. His boots clicked against the stone floor, the lantern in his hand lighting the dark hallway. When he reached the water’s edge he stopped. The surface shimmered,glowing faintly in the darkness. Then he heard it—the song.

It was soft at first, a melody that tugged at something deep in his chest. His heart sped up but he forced himself to stay still.

"Not curious enough to come closer?" a voice called, smooth and soft but with an edge to it.

Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed. He raised his lantern, the light reflecting off the water.

"Who’s there?" he demanded

A figure rose from the depths, water rolling off her as she leaned against the edge of the stone platform, she was breathtaking. Her long hair shimmered in the lantern’s glow, her skin almost glowing, her eyes were bright and sharp, locked onto his. A sleek scaled tail flicked behind her sending ripples across the water.

"You’re not what I expected" she said, tilting her head as she studied him.

"I could say the same about you" Wriothesley replied, keeping his voice calm. He wasn’t about to let her know how unsettled he felt. "What are you doing here?"

Her lips curled into a small smile. "I might ask you the same. This fortress sits on my waters. I’ve lived here long before this prison was built."

Wriothesley folded his arms his stance firm. "You’re the reason my men are disappearing."

Her smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. "They came willingly. I didn’t force them."

"Your song did."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "And yet here you are. You’re strong aren’t you? You didn’t follow it."

Wriothesley didn’t answer, he wasn’t about to admit how much effort it had taken to stay put. Her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard—beautiful and dangerous.

"What do you want?" he asked.

She leaned closer her hands resting on the stone. Water dripped from her fingertips, pooling at her elbows. "I wanted to see what kind of man would dare claim this place as his own, now I see why they follow you."

"You’ve seen me, now leave.” he said firmly, though his voice stayed calm.

She chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls. "Leave? You’re bold to think you can order me around."

Wriothesley met her gaze unflinching. "If you harm anyone else, we’ll have a problem."

For a moment the siren said nothing, her eyes searching his. Then she pushed away from the edge, her tail creating soft ripples in the water.

"You’re interesting" she said. "Most men are too weak to even speak to me, but you..." She trailed off, a playful smile on her face. "I’ll leave—for now. But I might come back, you’ve caught my attention."

Before he could reply she dove back into the water, disappearing beneath the surface. Her song faded into the distance, leaving Wriothesley standing alone.

He stared at the water for a moment longer then turned and walked back to the fortress.

Something told him this wasn’t the end.

Note: I know the fortress of meropide is underwater but let’s pretend it’s not

[lesbiangiratina]

THERE IS A MISSING LINK!

Many similarities between guilty gear and revolutionary girl utena. Theres a lot of swords in them. Sometimes the music is confusing but it fucks hard. Takehito koyasu voices a misogynist. Hikaru midorikawa voices some gay kid. Gender. Someone lays an egg. And most importantly i like them

[cvnt4him]

“diety! Izuku x nymph! rea-” alr candie pack it up.

Izuku midoriya, the man that he was. A god, a highly praised and well worshipped super natural being. He was such a luminescent creature, to describe this angelic being would be to say quite a divine nature. His presence was calming and his power was unlike any other. Despite being such a thing he always finds himself doing quite... unrighteous things. For example, stalking a nymph he accidentally came across. Well, not stalking. He certainly wouldn't call it that, just admiring. All the time. He'd first seen you when he traveled into the woods for a breath of fresh air, admiring the beautiful sound of nature the way the breeze of air flowed more freely butterflies and dragonflies flying together in perfect harmony, the flowers coming many different colors yet clashing together so amazingly. The beautiful blue water, it was all so pleasing to be able to witness. Izuku scoffed in pleasant disbelief at this rare find, still looking deeper into the woods he heard singing from not too far, he had assumed he was alone but the further he reached the louder it got. And there you were, such an interesting and illuminating creature... You were free spirited and nothing short of stunning. You were beautiful being living freely without a care. He wanted to move closer...but his footsteps were soon noticed by you causing you to instantly stop and advert your gaze in the direction he was in. His green hair helped him blend in well with the bushes, however he wasnt exactly invisible. He blinked once, and you were gone. He was saddened by your disappearance but graced by your presence. He was glad he saw such a unique free spirited thing... With a sigh he expected to turn around and walk back to his home, however upon turning around he sees you wide eyes and staring directly at him. He screeched and fell back onto the grass, the flowers seemingly wrapping around his hands and up his arms as if they were holding him down. You got closer to examine such a glowing being, his breath hitched at how close you had gotten also getting on your knees to get such a close view of him. He was nothing short of gorgeous, those adorable freckles and wide emerald kaleidoscope eyes of his. He couldn't help the warmth reaching to his face, his cheeks reddening within an instant.

“ hello.”

Was all you said to him, you batted your lashes at him repeatedly awaiting his response. He gulped down unable to speak, you were so beautiful and different, so captivating and delightful he'd wished he'd spoken to you when he had the chance. Alas just as he was about to you both heard people calling it for him,

“ my lord! where have you gone!”

You gasp and instantly run into the trees behind izuku, his gaze follows you as he stammers in his words. He felt the flowers around his arms deep back into the ground allowing him to stumblingly get onto his feet as he attempted to chase you with a meer

„ wait!”

But you were gone. Vanished into the beautiful woods. The sun was so bright in the direction you ran in as if it absorbed you completely. He sighed, as people arrived bursting his bubble. The people were so fascinated with this divine space they insisted it be local, but izuku declined. There was a reason you, an astonishing creature was alone in such a peaceful place he'd never seen before. He'd wondered if it would disappear by morning.

The next day izuku was quick to sneak away to find you, trying his best to remember which way he went to find your beautiful voice. You weren't singing like you were the other day. It was quite hard to find you but he managed to. You were silent, petting a deer as it laid its head on your lap, butterflies fluttering around your hair. You were truly nothing he'd ever seen before.

He wanted to speak to you, to touch you but he couldn't...he was afraid to scare you off. It was clear you hadn't liked people so ... would you like him?

this is NOTHING I've ever written b4, I hope it's good.... @candiiee

[daisiescomelate]

Bad bad wolf

Prompt: Gojo accidentally scared you during a mission and now he's begging you to open the bathroom door and let him talk to you.

Content: Gojo/Reader, angst, cursing, ooc.

div. plutism - masterlist

It was an accident. You knew that. A curse got too close to harm you and he snapped for a second, letting go of his goofy attitude and showing you a side of him that you had yet to meet. He checked in with you, he double checked, and then he triple checked, worried about you being injured or scared of the situation or... him.

You told him you were fine, that it was all good, you were just in shock still —about the curse, of course. You just needed a shower. So he cared your cheek and kissed your palm and drove you home so you could take your bath.

But now you couldn't bring yourself to open the bathroom door.

You rubbed your face and tried to stop your mind from derailing.

I mean, c'mon!

Gojo Satoru was a prophecy made flesh, he was the most powerful sorcerer in Japan, maybe the world. Of course that meant he was dangerous, that he was lethal. I mean hell, you were lethal and your curse technique wasn't even that good.

And you knew Satoru was an asshole with a loose moral compass, and that his silliness was more of a tool of provocation and manipulation than anything else.

But it was different— to actually see it.

Raw power.

Cold blood murder in his eyes and a maniac smile.

A snap of his fingers and life just... vanished as far as the eye could see.

The joy he got from it.

But for God’s sake! It was Satoru. Kisses on your forehead Satoru. Fart jokes Satoru. Pouty lips for cuddles Satoru.

The meaner thing he had ever done to you was putting salt on your coffee as a prank because you weren't the first person to wish him happy birthday! He had never lifted a finger against you. Then why were you so scared?!

The doorbell rang and you heard the front door opening and closing. Satoru began singing some made up lyrics about chinese food that included a falsetto. You heard him walk up to the bathroom door and knock on it, a smile on his voice.

"Babe, food is here!" he said.

You were wrapped on a towel, damped, looking straight into the mirror and trying to calm yourself down. Satoru, it's just Satoru. What's your problem?

His voice echoed on the tile of the room and on your temples. You were suddenly too aware of the water drops falling from the shower head and the cold, wet floor under your feet.

"You have been there forever, babe. Everything alright?"

I'm not ready.

Just breath.

You walked to the door, counting to ten in your head. Just go and open it, you will be fine. He will hug you and everything will be fine.

I want Satoru.

As you extended your hand to the handle, it shaked slightly, catching you off guard. You inhaled sharply and quickly moved to hold it in place.

"I'm alright", you said quickly, a little bit too aggressive even— maybe? Shit, it was an accident, I’m sorry. "I'm fine," you added, trying to be softer this time, "just give me a minute, love. I'll be right out."

"Mmm? Of course, baby."

You heard his footsteps getting away from the door and the clatter of the dishes as he probably set the table for you two. He continued to talk to you through the door.

“Ijichi is already messaging me about another assignment.” He sighed dramatically. “I never get a break, what would these people do without me?”

You heard him turn on the TV and lower the volume to keep it in the background as you liked it.

“One of these days we should ditch them and go on a vacation. What do you think? Fall off the map for a month or two, that would do wonders for my back! We could go to the beach~” Satoru kept walking around, you heard the rustling of clothes as he took off his uniform and put on something clean. “Drink cocktails under the sunset~”, he continued, his voice fading as he left to another room and increasing back again when he returned to the living room area.

“I’ll ask Nanamin to take care of my assignments, he still owes me a favor or two.” You heard the sound of Satoru opening one of his wine bottles.

His voice, that you often found so silly and even sweet, suddenly felt as if it carried a layer of an uncovered threat.

You noticed that you were shaking slightly.

You tried to repress it, sing to yourself, and tell yourself a joke, but nothing had any effect and your legs became weak; you sat on the toilet to prevent yourself from falling.

Time passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour. Satoru had run out of conversation and had fallen into silence. The wait must have been long enough, since the next thing you heard was Satoru right behind the door again.

“Pumpkin pie, I don’t mean to hurry you but dinner is going to get cold!”

You stayed still, hugging yourself to try and find some comfort. Your whole body felt like freezing, and you pinched your skin in a nervous tic without realizing.

"Do you need help with anything? Is it your hair? Do you want me to help you dry it, love?"

Your breathing picked up, an anxious feeling kept bubbling under your skin, making your body suddenly uncomfortable. There was a hint of something in his voice but because of your now rising panic it was hard for you to decipher what it was.

Wasn't the bathroom a little bit too small? Is there really no other way out of here other than that stupid door? Do people hate proper windows on bathrooms that much?

"Love?"

You turned around and glanced at the mirror.

Why are you freaking out?

"Babe?"

You heard the doorknob again and the bathroom door unlocking.

Out of reflex, you slammed it close again.

Silence.

The longest minute.

"Do you need a towel?” Satoru’s voice was oddly cheerful in an awkward attempt to ignore what you just did. “Is that why you don't want me to come in?", he asked, even if he had walked on you naked several times already and that had never been a problem between you two.

Your tongue was too heavy to speak.

"I'm going to go fetch you a towel, okay baby? Be right back."

You felt like crap. You felt like shit. You felt like you couldn't breathe.

Were you really making that big of a deal out of this?

You were embarrassed. You were scared. You wanted to leave. Open the door, push Satoru to one side and bolt. Leave this house.

"I'm back with the towel!" Satoru sang.

It was hard for you to stay quiet, it was hard for you to keep your lungs filled with air, your breathing should be audible now even at the other side of the door.

"Love?"

Your eyes were tearing up.

Satoru paused waiting for an answer but you couldn't mutter any.

"Baby, I'm going in." His tone deeper, not wanting to play his usual façade anymore. He tried pushing the door open again. You pushed your whole weight against it to keep it close.

A hiccup.

No.

No, no, no. Be quiet.

You bit your lip.

Love, please just give me a moment. You prayed to yourself.

A ruffling sound, then he knocked twice.

"Baby, what's wrong, would you let me in, please?", he asked softly.

Please, just wait. Why can’t you wait until I’m ready?

"I'm okay!" You repeated. "Just give me a second."

On the other side Satoru heard your voice tremble.

Fuck.

He buried his hands on his hair and pulled.

Fuck.

He knew he should have kept bothering you about it. You still looked like you were in shock, you were still clearly processing what had happened.

Earlier that day he was told about a case he had to look into. It was a silly little curse, they said, but because there was no one else available they asked Satoru to go, and because he wanted to take you out on a whim, he called you to come along with him.

He was so busy playing around with the weird looking thing, putting on a show for you, that he didn’t notice anything odd about it until later on.

It had the general shape of a human except with longer arms and legs. It moved slowly so as not to lose its balance because of its long limbs. In a rush of excitement as your eyes were glued to him, he moved around it and used his flashiest kicks and punches. He was usually childish for the fun of it, but knowing how much it made you laugh, sometimes it got to his head and turned him actually stupid.

He was more aware of where you were and where you were looking at than he was aware of the curse. He noticed that something was about to go wrong from your expression first rather than by seeing it by himself.

When he turned his head around to look back at the curse it had doubled in size. He was in a jump midair and trying to process what was happening, it took him a second longer to realize that it had suddenly launched at you two with greater strength. At that moment, he was in an awkward position to stop it and whatever move he made would be delayed by a fraction.

He saw it as it happened in slow motion.

It was something outside of your league.

It was suddenly so much faster and wilder, nothing like the slow guy he had been dancing around a second ago.

It noticed the difference in power and you being the most vulnerable of the two.

You and Satoru were separated by a considerable distance. Its form morphed once again. It moved forward, opening a mouth full of raiser teeth, and splitted into two. One half moved in Satoru’s direction and tried to corner him, and the other— jumped aiming at your throat.

Satoru saw red.

When he came back to himself, the woods burned and there was a gaping hole on the earth where the curse had been. He turned around to ask you if you were okay, and as soon as he did his blood went cold. Your eyes were wide open, one hand covering your mouth, the other holding your stomach. Horror.

He was no stranger to that look. Many people looked at him as if he were a monster after they realized what he could do with so little effort. He enjoyed it, sometimes. He didn’t care most of the time. But now he realized he had made a terrible mistake.

Truth be told, when you came about he started to be a little wary of it. He wasn’t hiding it, his reputation preceded him, you were meant to find out about it sooner or later. He was just more cautious. He tried to not overdo it anymore, especially in front of you; he would make up excuses so you couldn’t come with him to certain missions and he would keep a close eye on the noisiest pair of elders so they wouldn’t run their mouths in front of you.

After you came into his life, the title of the strongest was more annoying than ever. Hunting, even. It caught your interest, it always caught everyone’s interest, but how many could look at him the same before and after witnessing what it actually meant?

His heart beated heavily on his chest.

He untangled his fingers from his hair, clearing the lump on his throat, making sure to keep his tone non-threatening.

“I’m not going to open it, baby. You can come out when you’re ready. I will sit right here, yeah?”

Nothing.

Satoru pressed his eyes closed, thinking full speed what he should do next. He was surprised by the rush of adrenaline that embedded his system. His body was instinctively ready to kick the door open but he held himself back. He had to keep a cool head, he needed to avoid scaring you further.

Think.

A sob came out from the bathroom.

No. No, please, don’t cry.

“Love, please. Let me give you a hug. Open the door for me.”

He had been too careless. He needed to apologize properly. He needed to see you and reassure you that he loved you more than anything and he would never hurt you. But at the same time –he realized– he was scared to see that same expression on your face again.

He held both hands to each side of the door frame, letting his head fall. What you two had was still fragile, it was still too early for a problem this size.

He was scared.

He had no right to try to hold you back just yet when this didn't even have a name. He was sure he wanted to keep you with him, he had known for a long time before he approached you to ask for a first date.

It was delicate.

Gojo Satoru was a god, they named him that and so stripped him away from his humanity; like so, he grew up empty. He was scared you could see that, how far away he was from human.

It was dangerous, for you and for him since no matter how many people talked about the lengths of his powers he came to know by experience that there were many things he could still not reach nor control. So many people wanted so much from him, and he attracted so many others with ill intents. On his darkest night he felt the strings that picked at his skin, holding to his limbs. An all powerful puppet.

But he met you and he was fool enough to think he could try.

He placed his hand against the door and called your name in a whisper.

“Please, please, open the door, love.”

But could he really let you go without giving a fight if you rejected him?

“I'm sorry. Please give me another chance. Please talk to me.”

Could he fight this greed that grew on his chest everytime he was around you?

“I would never, ever hurt you–”

His voice cracked.

He felt pathetic.

The reporter talking on TV warned the public of intense rains to come, and the most powerful sorcerer felt his eyes prickling and gritted his teeth.

Around you he didn't feel like the titan that people talked about and recoiled from. He was the Satoru that had been lost along the halls of the Gojo estate as a little kid, and the Satoru that was healed and held before he lost half of his soul later on. He felt complete again. Person again.

But what if he lost all of it. Again. Because of all his power. Again.

His head fell forward as the door opened, just an inch, taking him by surprise. Your eye picked through the crack, your cheek was covered in tears.

He blinked and stared, feeling his heart break by seeing you like this.

“Hello.” He said, a lame attempt to break the silence.

“I'm fine, I promise.” Your voice trembled on every word.

He sighed painfully.

Satoru straightened his posture and held a hand to the door. You visibly trembled and gave a step back, you looked like you wanted to protest but didn't say anything.

He opened the door completely and stepped into the bathroom. You followed his every move with your eyes, you tried to fight back the worst of your instincts, the ones that told you that this man could always do as he wished with you and you wouldn't be able to escape it.

He moved his arms up and you guessed he was going to go for a hug. It was hard for you to reciprocate just now, so instead you closed your eyes and nodded, to let him know it was okay.

But you didn't expect to be hugged by the waist, his head on your stomach.

You opened your eyes with confusion. Satoru was kneeling over the bathroom floor, hugging your legs with his head buried on your towel.

“I swear” he said in all seriousness, “I will never hurt you.”

He squished a little bit more, almost making you fall out of balance.

“I swear”, he repeated.

You felt his desperate grip, and as his fear sinked in, your's wavered, and you could finally feel how truly wrong you were about fearing this man.

“Satoru…” you called.

“Mhmm?” He said but didn't look up the way you wanted to so you could see his dazzling eyes.

You buried one hand in his silk hair and carefully ran your fingers through it. “Love, look at me.”

He refused, pressing his face harder against you.

You kneeled instead. There were you, with your face covered in tears with nothing but a towel, and Satoru with wet sweatpants on the damped floor and refusing to let you see him. You hugged him and felt his heart beating fast against his chest matching your's.

“I am the one who is sorry.” You whispered.

He held you with all his strength, almost leaving you out of air.

“I believe you. I don't know why I reacted that way. But I promise I believe you and that won't happen again.”

His breath shook against the skin of your neck. You run your fingers along his nape, reassuring him. He nodded and kissed your neck before ultimately raising his head and looking at you.

There were no tears but his eyes shined brighter. You held his face with both hands and brought him down so your noses would touch. The way he looked at you with those eyes, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. You saw it clear as day, you had nothing to fear.

You moved closer so your lips would touch just slightly, “I love you, Satoru”, you said.

“I love you too”, he whispered.

[arscorpii]

frankenstein by mary shelley (1818) / the brothers karamazov by fyodor dostoevsky (1880) / missing link by j. a. seazer & tokyo konsei gasshodan (1997) / revolutionary girl utena, episode 39: someday, together, we'll shine (1997)

[ID: A collection of excerpts followed by a gif from Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it." (Mary Shelley, Frankenstein: The 1818 Text)

"In any case, what is suffering? I am not afraid of it, even though it be numberless. Now I am not afraid, though before I was. . . . And it seems to me that there is so much of this strength in me now that I shall vanquish everything, all of the suffering, only so that I may keep saying to myself constantly: 'I am!' I may endure a thousand torments - yet I am, I may writhe under torture - but I am! I may sit in a tower, but I exist, I can see the sun, but even if I cannot see the sun, I know that it exists. And to know that the sun is there - that is already the whole of life. (Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov)

See, I have vanished, yet I still sing. See, I have vanished, yet I still laugh. See, I have vanished, yet I am petrified. See, I have vanished, yet I still live. I exist, I am here. I exist, I am here. I exist! (J. A. Seazer & Tokyo Konsei Gasshodan, Missing Link)

Anthy, crying, reaches out from within her coffin to a battered Utena, and their hands touch. End ID]

ID credit to @princess-of-purple-prose

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Apple tree" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[nudity]

SUMMARY: No one recognizes the melody Kaz sometimes hums to himself while lost in thought. Neither does anyone know where he disappears for entire nights or why he seems happier when he returns.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

In those rare moments when Kaz is too focused on something to pay attention to the material world, a soft hum would escape his lips as though the tune could finally wriggle out of his cluttered mind and dance along the cold winds of Ketterdam. Set free, at last!

Jesper once asked him about the melody but Kaz only gave him a puzzled look as though he wasn’t aware of his own habit. Knowing that they can’t possibly force anything from their hard-headed boss, the Crows began making bets among themselves:

‘Probably just a barkeep’s song he can’t get out of his head.’

‘Some kind of a meditation technique.’

‘Maybe it’s a song from his neighbourhood?’

‘Lullaby his mother sang to him!’

But all of their guesses were equally good. Although, a more accurate expression would be ‘equally incorrect’. As months turned into years, the mystery remained, while the nosy rogues still aren’t any closer to solving it. What’s worse, they are beginning to run out of ideas.

Arguing about the melody in hushed voices, they never see him leave - only notice his sudden absence. This part of the enigma, however, is well-known to them: Kaz will reappear in the late morning the next day, a lot more patient and relaxed than he was the night before. Where could he possibly vanish to, they wondered.

Kaz hears himself quietly sigh in relief when your quiet voice reaches his ears. The longed-for sound comes from the hall, growing louder as you walk into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed with his back against the wall, he has a perfect view of your silhouette rounding the corner and entering the room. An uncomfortable tightness presses down on Kaz’s chest, the very same sensation he felt that fateful day when your eyes met. Despite all this time, he hasn’t yet gotten used to the sight: you emerge from the hall as though you were just breathed into life, with the softness of something oblivious to the terror of the surrounding world. He likes that thought, no matter how naive it is - that he can both have you all to himself and protect you from what he is. 

“Near my garden bloomed an apple tree,” you sing to yourself. “Bloomed in white, it had red apples.”

There’s something in your voice that he can’t quite put a finger on - a sense of longing, melancholy, as though the song becomes a coded message when it brushes past your lips; like there’s a heartache you haven’t yet shared with him. He sometimes wonders how many tears you’ve cried when he wasn’t looking but the thought makes him too angry to entertain it for more than a handful of seconds.

The lack of attention you give Kaz is quite deceptive. You’re standing right in the middle of the room, undressing a little too temptingly for it to be an accident. There’s no shame or shyness left in you - after all, he’s seen all of it before, many times. His eyes burn your skin in the same way a ray of sunshine feels against cold cheeks in the middle of winter. You bask in it, the desire that still burns after all those years, even if he doesn’t quite realize it.

“Who will pick them for me when my Johnny is cross?”

A horse’s neighing diverts Kaz’s attention from you to the cracked-open window. It’s like a robbery - the smallest gap can be an entrance. Or an exit, for that matter. Although your voice is hushed, audible only to him and yourself, Kaz begins to feel envious at the notion that the night breeze could possibly carry this sweet tune to undeserving ears. Perhaps it is childish of him to think that he could have exclusive ownership of you and this little song, to finally have something he can call his own.

“He’s angry but I don’t know why. Used to visit me but I don’t know why.”

His gaze returns to you, watching closely as you sit at the vanity. The oil lamp beside you lights up only half of your face, making you appear somewhat elusive, a bird of paradise that shall escape the moment you loosen your grip around its wings. You’re taking off your jewelery, putting it away to assorted boxes with utmost attention and care. Kaz can relate to this, in a way - years ago, when your romance was only buds about to bloom, he warned you that you should find another man, someone who can give you the lavish lifestyle you deserve and intimacy you certainly want. But you were more than unwilling to listen and that was, perhaps, your last mistake as the moment you gave yourself to him, Kaz was going to fight tooth and nail to keep the status quo. He is a crow, after all - a greedy collector of treasures.

“He visited me all spring, asking mother when I would grow.”

For the first time this evening, your gaze deliberately meets his. You’re still sitting at the vanity, sideways to Kaz, and you have to look over your shoulder to see his face. In that moment, there is something so divine about you, he begins to doubt his senses. His mind relates to various frescos and paintings of the Saints he has seen. Those same pieces of exquisite artistry bring thousands of people to their knees, bowing in front of faces as gentle as yours. Their hearts suddenly rejoicing in the presence of merciful, watchful eyes that only know love and care. No Saint has ever watched over him, so perhaps it is only natural that he should start praying to you. Epiphany, after all, is not an artifact of pews, old pages and litanies - it is the moment you see yourself through the eyes of your lover, only to realize that not an ounce of your soul could ever be unlovable.

That look in your eyes - he both hates it and yearns for it. It’s like you’re staring at something worth admiring. Kaz always thinks he sees there a note of mercy; a look of compassion and understanding given to a wounded animal that tries to remain threatening. Maybe you have fallen into a trap he didn’t even know he had set.

A few minutes pass by when you and Kaz simply watch each other. The silence is filled with nothing and everything at once - unspoken promises, words of poetry and grandeur that would only attract malice if said in Ketterdam.

“Something’s on your mind,” he breaks the comfortable quietness.

“You should get some rest, love.”

Kaz has a burning suspicion that you know very well what you’re doing to him with your small, albeit still groundbreaking, confessions of adoration. The closer he grew to you, to more of those affirmations he began to notice. Mostly, they aren’t straightforward but like snowdrops in February, they are apparent to those looking for them and by the Saints, does Kaz Brekker look for the confirmation of your love, never quite satiated. In words of care, ‘go to sleep’ or ‘eat something’, he’s learned to find intimacy beyond spoken language.

“I didn’t come here for rest,” Kaz informs. No one in their right mind would choose sleep over the presence of something too divine to be considered only human.

A wide smile creeps onto your face. How is he supposed to remain ‘the Bastard’ when you’re looking at him like that? 

“Then what for?” you coax.

He cocks his head, staring at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Perhaps I just enjoy the view.”

“Oh my, did you just give me a compliment?” Jokingly, you put a hand on your chest. A giggle escapes your lips. 

“Would that be so awful?”

You stand up from the vanity, making your way towards him. His watchful gaze never leaves you, painting Kaz something of a predator - waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. Climbing into your bed, you lay beside him.

“So awful I’d stay up all night thinking about it,” you say in a hushed tone.

Ever since he’s gotten comfortable with that, the motion of laying his head against your chest feels so natural to Kaz that he can hardly believe he has lived most of his life without doing so. Your muffled heartbeat rings in his ears and he unknowingly takes a deep, slow breath - you’re right here with him. Most importantly, you’re okay and that’s enough for him to put his thoughts at rest. Your hand brushes through his hair. To Kaz, intimacy feels perfectly strange.

In a voice barely louder than the calm rhythm of your heart, you finish the song that has bewitched Kaz about as much as you have:

“He visited me all summer and I kissed him for that. He visited me all autumn and I put apples in his pockets.”

When his consciousness dances along the line of sleep and wake, he feels your warm lips softly kissing his forehead. Maybe he has been wrong all along and it was you who had trapped him. Not that he has any desire to break free, of course.

[i4oba]

nct dream as… !%# types of dates .. 🥣⋆☄︎. *. ⋆

[non-idol ver.! just so you know eheh]

✰ MARK — drive-in theater

it honestly came to mind pretty randomly, as you two got back from your last exam of the semester, driving mindlessly for about two hours — not because you didn’t know what you want to do, but because you two simply just enjoyed doing nothing??? but so many things at the same???

just listening to the mixtape you made for mark, singing so loud everyone could hear since the windows were rolled down too… you felt a sense of freedom? some kind of… relief from the burdens??? it was a pretty hectic exam season you two had to endure and since it was finally over.. you couldn’t keep your excitement low

looking at each other with love and adoration, exhaustion vanishing in the company of the other one — it honestly should be studied? how easy it is for you two to affect the other???

you stumbled upon the drive-in theater by accident, it wasn’t planned or anything, you just wanted to simply spend your night at mark’s place and call it a day, watch a movie on his laptop while cuddling and stuff

but when you spotted the sign you couldn’t help but exclaim, getting all excited over it, even slapping mark’s upper arm… poor boy winced and just said “hey, no need to kill the driver”

you didn’t even need to convince him honestly, he immediately agreed and there you were… not knowing what was actually screening, blindly finding a good spot you two can park and enjoy the movie

it would’ve slapped if it was some kind of slasher horror from the 80s… but it was casablanca

WHICH IS SO CLICHÉ I KNOW BUT it makes So much sense and honestly, it’s such a big game changer to see it like that. it’s like an opportunity you shouldn’t miss

mark got some popcorn and something to drink, to make the whole atmosphere even more “vibey”, as he said, and you two just.. turned off your minds and watched the movie

discussing it and everything, like FELLAS, that’s the right experience! that’s how you watch a movie!!! YOU GOTTA ANALYZE THE SHIT OUT OF IT!!!!!!! ahah

in the end, when almost everyone drove away from the theater, leaving you two here with like.. only 3 other cars, mark gave a kiss on your lips, as a way of celebrating it all. it was for a fleeting moment only, yet it was so sweet and full of emotions

it was a reward, of some sort.

✰ RENJUN — museum date

there was this new exhibition at the local fine arts museum so… it wasn’t even a question that you two would literally RUN (and get a good use of the student discount ahah, it’s a lifesaver!)

casually choosing some elegant clothes which, of course, had to be matching to a certain extent – people HAVE TO see that you guys are together, plus it would look so good on the pictures

you expected lot more of people since it was the first week of the grand opening but it wasn’t that crowded. Which is a good thing honestly, you hate it when it’s sooo full you cannot even move properly

it was an exhibition of some impressionist works by some of the most renowed painters, it was a must to not only look the best, but to prepare yourself for a long day of strolling around

you usually spend tons of time in museums anyways, but this also as part of a date??? the security would have to kick you out asap.. ahah

renjun immediately reached for your hands to hold, while walking around, looking at the beautiful paintings, talking about whatever came to mind – not just about art itself, topics changed so fast you couldn’t even realize it by the time it did

being in art school meant that renjun can sometimes tell you little fun facts and tips&tricks he had learnt in uni

sometimes it amazes how well informed he is and how he knows so many know-hows.. not like you weren’t aware, you absolutely knew he’s smart AND TALENTED, but still ahah

after a good… 3 hours or so? you two decided to end the date with a quick stop at the museum shop :DDD it’s a must honestly, you gotta buy every magnet and postcard you can… especially of such beautiful paintings???!!! you would be stupid if you left without Anything

so you two bought tons of stuff… even some things you can exchange, as if they were gifts for one another :,) ahhh…

you just have to print out that picture of you two, taken in front of that big painting of mesmerizing flowers: renjun kissing you softly, hands on your waist, eyes closed

✰ JENO — stargazing

you had been planning this for literal days before… you know, getting everything together, like those cool ass lamps in a jar bottle with the led stuff, blankets you bought from a nearby art shop?? which sold basically everything??? ahah

drinks and snacks too… you were honestly So Ready to go stargazing! :D

you were supposed to go to that rather tiny park of the town which is mostly empty. that’s why you decided on going there, avoid people and stuff, just the two of you, looking at the constellations >:( honestly it’s so romantic it makes me Cringe (i crave it)

but in the end, you two decided to stay at yours instead, since your parents left for the weekend anyways, which is just a bonus: it’s the two of you in the backyard with the vast sky full of stars

idyllic??? romantic??? adorable and unforgettable??????

All of the above

at first, you two just sat down on the swing bed your father recently bought at a random flea market he religiously visited every weekend :,)

but then, to use the blanket you brought outside (what a tiresome task ahah), you two laid down on the ground instead

the first constellation you spotted was the big dipper, exclaiming when you noticed it on the sky, gently shoving jeno’s shoulder, who was rather nonchalant at first

he then, of course matched your energy, and got super super excited, especially after noticing the ursa major :D he felt like he accomplished his life goal or something ahah (hes so stupid but in a cute way)

what the cherry on top was is his hands, reaching for yours, fingers intertwining, as your heart warmed up – you looked at him, his beautiful face, and noticed that adorable eyesmile of his

life felt good. you felt at home

✰ HAECHAN — restaurant hop

he fucking hates cooking lmfao he’s all like “yo girl i don’t think we should let Me get near that oven… we might burn up the whole house IJBOL” (he would definitely use ijbol irl)

so you were like…

hyuck, you literally don’t even have to come to the kitchen bro, i will cook… which happens most of the times when you decide to stay at home for dates

but this day!!! to spare you from the tiring task of cooking!!!!!!!! he said that you guys should try out restaurant hopping

you were confused as hell honestly, like wdym you want that, aren’t you a picky mf lmfao

but he said that he’s feeling adventurous and is pretty much lazy to go hiking or anything that a sane person would go for

and he felt hungry so it was like the best choice in his eyes – you were sick of spending most of your nights at his (shared…) apartment so you agreed after like… 5 secs of persuading

you wanted to plan out where you should go and maybe book a table at some restaurant but he was all like “honey, we should be spontaneous, go with the flow…”, so you did???? Ahah

the first restaurant was not even a restaurant, it was just the first street food stall you two stumbled upon, getting something for the both of you

you didn’t want to feel full so early so you chose something light (unlike hyuck who was sure he was “alright” but after like the second stop, he was dying because his stomach was hurting “So Badly”)

you ended the restaurant hop with a donut at one of the bakeries you usually go to – you know, to finish it off with something familiar??? now lemme just say, it was chaotic, because haechan could BARELY finish it and made it your problem, whining like a little girl after every bite

like you told him not to get the biggest, sweetest and greasiest one but he was sooo sure in himself, he said he’s got an extra stomach for desserts

well… was he wrong…….

you spent 1.5 hours there!!!!!! he took so much time LMFAOXJAJX they were closing already and he still hadn’t finished

so you tried to rush him and stuff but he turned his princess mode on ahah

but at least, on the way back to his place, he bought you tulips :) it was such a sweet gesture <3

not as sweet as his donut was…… (he almost threw up the next day cause he was feeling nauseous from the food)

✰ JAEMIN — picnic date

jaemin was so excited :( he literally couldn’t stop talking about it like.. that’s right dude!!!!!! we’re going on a date!!!!!! A PICNIC DATE!!!!!

he would literally live in the kitchen before the occasion so that he can cook&bake tons of things for you to eat :) he’s so… he’s so malewife

all you’re left to deal with is bringing the basket and checkered blanket, every other things are settled! they are in his hands, under his control :D

you two went to the park which is right next to the lake – you wanted to see swans while talking about anything and everything that came to mind (he literally compared your beauty to that of a swan… which made you almost tear up like BOY YOU DID NOT… argghhh)

it was a must to start it off with the most basic and cliché thing of everything: the chocolate covered strawberries, feeding each other all lovey-dovey, tooth rottingly sweet and stuff

everyone was possibly like “okay lemme just kms” when they spotted you two, all up on each other, legs all tangled together, stealing kisses from the other, while giggling so loudly

it was SOO so idyllic, almost like you two escaped from a romance movie, or a painting. it felt… perfect, in a way?

birds singing, the sun shining gently on your skin, while you could hear the laughter of the children running around, clouds in animal shapes

then the sun slowly setting, pinkish hues taking up the sky above, everything becoming quiet as time passes by

he hugs you tightly. tighter than ever, perhaps

✰ CHENLE — karaoke

if two weeks pass by without you and chenle going to a karaoke… Most probably it’s because you broke up or something

like girl ain’t no way you WON’T go to karaoke dates… nuh huh, impossible to even think of that ??? CHENLE, out of all people

that’s the least believable thing like i promise you!

like saturday night are for the gir- KARAOKE!!!!! :P that’s how it always goes, getting ready, putting on some casual clothes, maybe eating something quick before that, and then spending the entire time singing your lungs out

you don’t even have energy by the end of it, like it… seems impossible to even crawl back home :,)

but honestly it’s all worth it, comparing your score and stuff, seeing which one of you sings better

sometimes you just open instagram and do lives too, so that your followers can pick who they liked more

(it’s always chenle’s acc though like SO MANY people follows him, he’s like a celebrity… ahah!)

haechan always comes to watch and roasts the both of you, especially when it can be seen that chenle kisses you here and there

he types “EWWWW GET A ROOM FREAKS” and thinks he’s hilarious lmfao

you always start the date with a quick and energetic song, one that boost your energy up easily and then… honestly it depends on your mood

sometimes you gotta be in your moods and sing romantic ballads to each other, as if it’s a serenade

but then again, moods swing so quickly and you can end up in a rap battle too

you would totally eat him up tbh… and he knows it so well

he finishes the date off with the most cheesiest, lovely romantic song ever… like a confession said yet again, for the hundreth time

✰ JISUNG — amusement park

it wasn’t his idea honestly

it was all you coming up with it, because there was that one roller coaster you’d always been scared to go on

and since you haven’t visited ever since you had jisung… you thought MAYBEEEE (just maybe) it would be better with him

you can at least hold onto him and stuff

he wanted to eat before the ride though… you did not let him, of course, since you didn’t want him to throw up on you AHAH

but like, why did he came there RAVENOUS? duh … you’re gonna say goodbye to your guts on the ride girl what did you expect

but you know, the ride wasn’t even the part you enjoyed the most – it was good, of course, just not that�� outstanding? i guess? it was alright… especially because you could hold jisung’s hand so tightly :,) it was honestly so adorable

they should’ve taken pictures of you like you’re sure you would’ve put it on the fridge or something

but after that, you went to the gift shop, to get those silly headbands!!!!! you got one that resembled a cat, and jisung got one with a hamster >:( it was adorbs

you two looked like those IT couples that you can always see in instagram, you know, holding hands, taking silly candid pictures and then eating sooo much food

FINALLY!!! thought jisung probably ahah you got so many sweets it was like you could feel your tooth decaying lmfao

at the end of the day, you two decided to try out the freshly opened photo booth which had been going viral for weeks

it was… an experience to say the least :,) but the pictures came out prettier than ever!!!! except for the one where jisung sneezed and you got all scared because he was Loud loud ahah

but the compensation was a fleeting kiss on your cheek! which was also captured on one of the pictures :)

[elvestoneanzelote1]

Hi again! Glad that you’re back :> I hope you’re doing well and got enough rest after your exams!

I have a request! Where Yan!Fyodor or Yan!Nikolai (you can choose one of them!) first impressions on Venti! Male! Reader, for example, seeing how cheerful and carefree he is and also somewhat unbothered even when he is hurt, but then also seeing a much more serious side of him, seeing how he can be so cold and indifferent to other people, basically making them think if this was even the same person that they grew obsessed with.

(P.S: NO NEED to do this if you’re not interested! ^^)

𝘈:𝘯- 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰, 𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘹. 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦. 𝘌𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘨 𝘝𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

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𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘍𝘺𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘋𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘷𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘹 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘪 𝘎𝘰𝘨𝘰𝘭 𝘹 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

𝘍𝘺𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳.

I assume it to be the near future or the slight past, perhaps he met you in your past life? Okay?.

It might be two ways for him, Likely in the past you may have encountered him (like a human?) And perhaps ended up enjoying each other company.

Let's just go a little past life encounter (in his view).

He met you in luck more likely lured into your music as you played a lyre, At first he wasn't that interested your encounter with him is instant and the fact you mention about the wind leading your way. He learn a quiet two or three from you about your poems.

Always cheerful. He ended up enjoying your company after all he doesn't know what to do right now due to his immortality ability.

"You often goes around playing lyre whenever possible why?"

"Well seeing people smile and enjoying my music is quiet a sight and I enjoy it"

"Hmm..."

He never admitted your company had been worthwhile, your patience and your words were wise perhaps wiser than his, he never encountered someone like you and perhaps he was glad to be still alive to meet you.

But he forgot one day you will leave him too. Okay in the past he may or may not be different from current but perhaps he never may have met someone this genuine interest of someone.

You were the someone who was always kind and wise... Perhaps that's the reason why.

"Stay awake... Don't close your eyes yet" he stated unsure on what to do but he think was you can't die on him like this.

You let out a chuckle as he told you not to laugh.

"It's fine... For your door, death come to all this is nothing" you stated while bleeding out.

"It is Fyodor how many time I have to say, why must you use this last moment to say my name correctly"

"I suppose, perhaps death is the most tragic end of a character don't you think"

"You are dying here, Not now you still haven't grow old"

"Why you want to see me age? Wouldn't you be aging more then-" you coughed out blood as he frown.

None was at sight who can help you, he felt your hands on him not out of malice but pure reassurance.

His eyes widen as you smile softly at him.

"I hope to see you, In death realm alright" you stated as he frown slightly. With a gentle squeeze in your hand as he was in thought he hear a rustle as he turn around.

"It might be a person, you can still be-" his words halted as he notices your dulled eyes, your breath was gone as your hair tinted green at the end vanishes.

"...you can't just die like this, didn't you say you want to sing all around the world? Hey wake up you can't say your goodbye like this" he stated as his hand on your face. It was cold he knows you are no longer alive.

"Not until you hear my answer... I can't come with you to death realm..."

It may have been a hundred years later perhaps. To this current statement.

His eyes bored into yours who seemed confused.

"So you are telling me to keel an eye on him?" You asked your fellow colleague as the colleague nod.

"Hi there" you approach him while he is on the capsule ball of sort.

"Hello" he stated.

"...If I'm not wrong you are from Russian right?" He just gave a nod as you were unsure on what to say more.

You start to walk away only for his voice to make you stop.

"What's your name?"

"Huh? Me, Well it is Y/n, Y/n Venti"

His eyes widen slightly yet he smile softly perhaps.

"I see, You are not Japanese right?"

"How did you know? Was accent still gibberish?"

He softly chuckles, "Not really you don't look like for a reason"

"Eh...? Where do I look like?"

"Hmm... German?"

"Wow you are quiet Keen mister..." You look complicated on what was his name was as he sigh softly.

"Fyodor Dostoyevsky"

"Ah yes For your door"

"Fyodor"

"It sound the same I don't see a problem"

He sigh again leading you to blink confusedly.

"Your hair"

"My hair? Are you asking what shampoo I use? My I knew you can see my hair look good"

He just stare leading you to awkwardly chuckle.

"The green fades..."

"Hmm? I was born with it, I did not dyed what's with people asking if I dyed my hair at the end."

"I know"

"You know?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Y/n-san you are been called by commander" said a voice downstairs as you look down notice Tecchou.

"Ah! Comming! I am sure he brought dozens of apples for me!" You stated then look at Fyodor.

"Be a good prisoner and we will meet again, For your door!" You stated flying downward to Tecchou.

Ended up talking and leaving.

Fyodor stares at your retreating formed then flip a page of a novel book.

"Perhaps... Reincarnation does happens..."

---

You were too alike with your past self's, the habit of eating apples. He is shock you aren't drunk and come here muttering gibberish of sort.

You sometime visit yet quickly left not too long he will say. He was amused you are apart of Hunting dogs. He wonders if you can recall your past life which he states.

"You wounded your hand?"

"Huh? This? It is just a scratch" you stated ignoring the bandage hand.

"I see still unbother by your injuries"

"Huh? You sound as if you know me since childhood of sort"

He remains quiet.

But... The last thing he never thought he will see on your expression beside happy smile of sort was.

Your seriousness and anger perhaps?.

"Are you alright? Teruko-chan?" You stated holding Teruko tightly narrowly escape her fate of death.

"...Why must you come here" Fyodor simply stare as you remain quiet.

"Venti... Commander he isn't right?"

"Shh, I don't know a thing going on here"

"I can literally kill you both here" Fyodor stated slightly annoyed by you hugging Teruko who is crying on your chest.

Your eyes look up at him, he notice the seriousness.

"That's unlikely of you"

"...'

"I thought you never get mad or serious"

"Stop acting like you know me at all, Fyodor Dostoevsky" you stated with a tone fill with annoyance as he tighten his hand on his sword.

"I see... Hate to admit but... I do not want you to die on me again, Y/n not now or ever"

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That took awhile but let's go to Nikolai part.

It will less long I suppose.

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𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘪:

A simple trick to play with you, Well it may have happen before the whole Ada ordeal occurred and he met you by luck in the isolated place?

Why were you there? Playing lyre where there is no one? In a slum area.

He won't be caught up to you but your tale make him curious.

How did you know about the God of freedom so much?

He thought Fyodor was more likely the knowledgeable but you... You sound as if you know it personally level.

He was a bit confused to know Fyodor interest in you.

One time he try to stop you by injuring you yet when he left more likely hide you said you just got on a silly accident ignoring the fact you were attacked.

He wonders why you often smiles he is curious to know how you will look when crying.

"You know what is freedom too right? Then let just bring him closer to the freedom where human are chained too!" He state slightly annoyed but his joyful smile present as you stood in front protecting Atsushi who seems alarmed.

"Are you going to protect a criminal? Where are the morals of a hunting dog."

"Ada is not a criminal organisation i know it that much" you stated as Nikolai smile widens.

"Wow! Does that mean you know the truth?"

"I surely do"

"..." Atsushi was glad you were on their side as Nikolai dramatically state how you are stopping the will of the freedom.

"Shut up! Freedom is not something related to death at all, freedom is something which is your will. Your choice if the person does not want to die yet you have no right to force someone in the name of nonesense freedom"

That day you were angry. And serious. Very unlikely. He was taken aback.

"Oh... So you do know about freedom huh"

And for the first time even Nikolai eyes and expression change into something... Different.

His eyes bored in yours ad you stare back.

"I will love to hear more from you... Tell me... Can you show me what your freedom truly is... Y/n"

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A:n- that's all take care.

Sorry. If it was kinda don't know... Uhm either way that's all.