#Seriously if you can find this game it's full of content

[missingmayuri]

So I found my copy of Bleach Blades Of Fate today.

Booted the game up and I can't believe I got junpscared by Dub Mayuri because I forgot to turn my volume down haha

I then remembered how rich in Mayuri this game is. He has his own little Substory, shows up in scenarios he wasn't in before and the game itself has every audio file Terrence Stone recorded for the game. In fact it has them for every character from the time.

I forget daily I own a game with a sound byte of Mayuri saying

It can't be avoided, your going to die

In the most matter of factly way possible 😂

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[anantaru]

HAI YORUUUUU I LOVE YOUR WORKS SMMMMMM, which boys do you think would be really rough?

including. zhongli, childe

cw. dom zhongli & dom childe, dirty talk, messy and sticky!!! rough syx, teasing you, fem! reader

— ꒰ ZHONGLI ꒱

zhongli wants to break here and there, and perhaps his nature was to blame for his lack of restraint right now, because in reality— he wasn't patient when it comes to you, particularity to this, he couldn't hold back the carnal desire seeping in his bones whenever you enclose around his shaft.

but he finds it so enchanting, how every time he drags his cock into you harder, presses deeper against the plump lips of your pussy, as well as rushing through your walls slowly in and out, you take it with a pitched whine and a shiver on your spine, your throat burning with lust.

you drive him crazy. it really takes unparalleled strength to deny himself of you. it must be your scent, or your noises bearing a resemblance to silk.

when it comes to morax, or as you called him— zhongli, despite him masking as a human, he owned an overbearing strength compared to that of mere mortals, a divinity rummaging in his veins and staying with him no matter what.

while his experience too, had to be uncountable.

he can fuck you all night, he has fucked you multiple times. pulled and twisted you into various positions and shadowed his sheer strength above your own fragile one— thrusting his long, veiny length into your warm cunt to the pure limitations of you, until you're writhing, utterly consumed with pleasure, not finding the strength to stop yourself from throbbing around him.

and despite that, his hunger still, cannot be quenched.

you obediently hold his gaze when he cradles your face gently, pressing in close and drawing an arm over your naked body— the new expression on his face was concealed, aside from the lust you ignited in him you couldn't catch a sight of something else.

although under further focus you watch the seriousness melt from his stare as something feral, disgustingly carnal slips into place.

he thrusts his cock through your ruined pussy as he strains his hot, twitching shaft by fucking through your cunt fervently, your eyes criss-crossing when he gets faster and deeper, his balls bouncing off your flesh and igniting the room with lewd sounds.

yet within a drag of his cock, zhongli leans into your body, the warmth in his voice offering enough contentment to wrap your arms around his chest and draw him nearer as he parts his lips, "you will tell me if it hurts?" he whispers into your cheek, making sure, sighing wistfully as he smears his saliva on your skin before kissing you, "and if it's too slow, darling. i have to hear you,"

you're just so soaked by how he articulated himself, how he presented his golden eyes and touched you that you're so hot in your skin right now, utterly certain that he could very well melt against your body like this.

an infatuation of being filled to your capacity by his thick, stretched-out erection turns your thoughts into dense clouds, the nerves in your body into putty beneath his hands— it's over, and an interval of choked cries echoes from your throat as he deepens your connection.

zhongli bites down hard on his lower lip, nearly splitting the fragile flesh as he sinks and sinks and sinks back into you, the overwhelming taste of fullness turning you almost out of commission as you bend your hips up obediently, finding solace in the hands of the man who promised to protect you, take care of you, love you.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

childe will thrust into you with a force that repeatedly hits the bed-frame against the wall and shifts the mattress beneath your combined weight.

his strength was almost frightening, as well as intriguing, perhaps both— and archons, childe was truly so good at this, he turns you slicked and desperate without blinking once.

it's all fun and games to the eleventh harbinger, and he's up for another challenge tonight. can he make you cum faster this time? well, he knows your body better than anybody else and might even believe that he'd be aware of your sugar-glazed spots inside your pretty pussy more than you were.

childe was insufferable, truly, and every time he rolled his hips slowly into your heat to taunt you, pretend like he doesn't want to fuck you hard and fast, he pulls out of your warmth and messes up your slobbering pussy by suddenly grinding in deep. thick globules of your arousal, hefty in amount, glissading from your hole whenever he moved you body back and forth his cock like you're his own, personal ragdoll.

"so pretty..." ajax muses, his eyes slipping shut when he leans in to kiss you abruptly, your shy whimpers morphing into panting gasps with a desperate need to kiss him back.

shortly after, he releases your lips with a raw, sinful sound before indulging his fingers in tracing along the curves of your pretty hips, "ahh, i can't hold back anymore, what will you do about that, baby?"

"you'll take it, right?" childe continues, his forehead bedewed in sweat as he narrows his brows when you clench down on his shaft resting inside the snug confines of your pussy, "yeah... I will baby, just please move again," you mumble back helplessly, and flinch right after when he turns to your chest to lightly tease your nipples and squeeze your breasts in his palm, simply bathing in the glory of your naked body.

a twinkle of amusement animates his eyes, "you know," he says amiably, beginning to smother your walls with his shaft again as he rests his forehead against your own, "it's nearly too much to bear for me, when you do that," childe whines brazenly, like he wanted you to hear the filthiness in his tone as he points towards your hole fluttering around his length.

"—and yet, it's nowhere near enough to me, all the more reason to continue this all night long," he smirks with a sharp lick of his tongue into your mouth before forcing your cunt to swallow his cock to the complete base of him, "to fuck you baby, until you're so ruined for me baby, until we both are,"

his chest sticks to your glistening body before he pushes himself off you to place on hand against the bed frame while the other kept your hips in place.

childe grins triumphantly when you pull your legs further apart as he begins to move faster, the shape of your cunt already morphed in the size of his shaft as you take his blows like he needed you to— and you're basking in the roughness and experience, drooling messily as he fucks you until you're done for.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[milksuu]

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers. 

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors. 

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

 EMAIL: yone123@riotstudios.com

TELEPHONE:  XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his  protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.” 

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.” 

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place. 

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.” 

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest. 

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute. 

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.” 

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn. 

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps. 

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness. 

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.” 

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool. 

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too. 

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.” 

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.  

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite. 

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.” 

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

[tales-of-wocdes]

Tales of Wocdes: The Silver Protector

A WIP Twine game! The demo is now available (demo updated 27.10.2024, ~103 500 words with code inside text and different branches):

Tales of Wocdes: The Silver Protector is a high fantasy interactive fiction made in Twine. During the story, your protagonist will change from a helpless child to a Silver Protector, an elite warrior and protector. In time, you may wield powerful magic, or be a master of the blade.  

The game is in early development. All content is subject to change.

There is also now a kofi page.

Premise

Wocdes is a world full of magic, monsters, and secrets. No beings in this world embody all three better than the Ancients,  godlike in power and unbeatable in battle. Incredibly wise and compassionate. Incredibly terrible and cruel. Immortal and glorious. Petty and vengeful. Or so the stories go. 

Not that you know the stories. Why would you? You are a child kidnapped for unknown purposes.  You barely know anything about yourself. Your life is one of pain and suffering at the hands of people you do not know. 

In a moment of desperation, a plea leaves your lips. Or perhaps it is only in your mind. Unexpectedly something hears you and will never ignore a broken child alone in the dark asking for help. You are saved but you are permanently scarred by your experiences. Given into the care of the newly created Orphanage of Firgrat, here is where your journey truly begins. How will you cope with your past and current reality?  Can you survive the cruel world of Wocdes, the weight of your trauma? Can you help others survive?  Can you grow up, make friends, learn to love, and become a real person again?

What to look forward to

In this game, you will (eventually) be able to:

Customize your character, from their appearance and gender (male, female, non-binary) to their abilities and personality.

Admittedly, your characters emotional development has taken a bit of a hit due to recent events, leaving them a bit confused in general about... everything. 

You can add elements of fantasy races to your character's appearance, such as a tail, wings, pointy ears and many more.

Discover why you were kidnapped, eventually.

Protect those you feel deserve it, become stronger for yourself or to protect others.

Grow up alongside other orphans and kids from the city, journey through childhood at the orphanage and the surrounding city, to adulthood with responsibilities. 

Develop your relationships with your fellow orphans and other companions, maybe even get into a romance. 

Speaking of romance, the author aims to offer an option to be completely and utterly dense about romance, like completely oblivious to the degree people worry about you. Or maybe you will be a smoother operator.

Go on adventures and missions, both innocent and not, in an original fantasy world full of magic, wonder and cruelty.

Characters

Primary

The twins Atru (m) and Azha (f): The original inhabitants of the orphanage and the only children already there when you arrive. Both twins have short blond hair and green eyes. Atru is a seemingly silent emotionless boy who clings to his sister Azha. Azha is a little girl shaped ray of sunshine and well-meaning mischief. And chatter!

More characters will be filled out later.

Secondary

Havard (m): The head custodian of the Orphanage. A father figure to all the children. His duty is to guide the children, and it is a duty he takes very seriously.

Lexia (f): The Silver Protector in charge of you. Young, excitable and strong. One of the first to be chosen for the new elite order called the Silver Protectors.

Alessa (f): The custodian in charge of the twins. A sweet young somewhat shy woman who the twins adore, both in their own ways. 

Sandor (m): The Silver Protector in charge of the twins. A good-natured and somewhat shy young man often trailing after the twins with a fond look. 

The Ancients

RAFO (Read And Find Out). You might meet some. 

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction! Any potential resemblance of appearances, names, or personalities of characters with people in real life, living or dead, is coincidental.

This story is meant for adults. The game contains depictions of violence, blood, gore, sexually suggestive content, black humor, explicit language etc. A more complete list can be found in game. Like everything else, this list is subject to change. 

The game contains dealing with traumatic events. The author is not a qualified medical professional, and the in game responses to trauma are not in any way encouraged.  If you are uncomfortable with what you are reading, please refrain from continuing until you feel better. Or drop the story entirely. None of this is worth your health.

[nyehilismwriting]

Have you seen the recent comment made by Jelly Fish Field on your itch page for Project Hadea. I just read it, and found their view really interesting and extremely important criticism on how you've decided to write certain reactions. I love your writing a lot, so it was extremely eye opening what they wrote. What i'm getting at is, I would just like to hear your feedback on that specific comment! all love, and I do hope this won't be taken the wrong way!

I've seen it, yeah. and... okay, I've discussed my reasons for not using rape as a content warning before, and I stand by them; I'm not revisiting any discussion on what does and does not constitute rape. the content is warned for, by specifics of what occurs in the text, to give people the chance to make the most informed decision they can about whether to play. that's it.

as for the rest of it... there's things in there that I understand. I get being frustrated that you can't fully explore the extent of the operative's trauma, yet; I get feeling like the rest of the crew don't trust you, or like rohan is a bitch. they don't, and xe is.

the thing that I find disagreeable about a lot of these criticisms (and similar ones) is that I think they betray a fundamental misreading of the text: the operative is a war criminal. they are heavily armed, unstable, and trapped on a ship with civilians. they kill multiple civilians in chapter one; they might well attempt to kill rohan in front of everyone, and later succeed in doing so. they are a confirmed murderer, who by and large refuses to tell the civilians why they are so angry with rohan. this is by design.the focus of this story is very much about coming to terms with your trauma - from long before you meet rohan! you've been medically experimented on, had your personhood denied for a long time, and had any kind of human empathy stamped out of you. part of the point of the game is for me to explore how trauma can be expressed in ways that are deeply unpalatable - the operative is not a "perfect victim" (a phrase I loathe) and their trauma impacts the way they move through the world, drawing out reactions that aren't wholly sympathetic or empathetic, because their actions are often unjustified and cause real harm, or seem that way to those who don't have full context.

this is why joia is important, this is why your relationships with the crew are important. the crew aren't intended to be author voices, they're not the moral compass here or audience stand-ins: they aren't supposed to represent the "correct" approach to dealing with other people's trauma. no character in this situation is intended to be seen as perfect, but as a way to shine light on different facets of the story.

the operative is built a very specific way, for very specific reasons: this is intentional. they are a person who has been deliberately dehumanised, used as a weapon, who volunteered and fought for the right to be a scientific guinea pig for the war crimes company, in order to be of greater use to said company. they have had their bodily autonomy violated so habitually, for their whole career - they have been coercively used as a test subject by their employer - that they can't see it as an abnormal violation. this isn't to say it is justified, or to diminish the traumatic impact rohan has, but... it's not the operative's first rodeo here, even if it's the player's.

they're bad at processing their emotions. the operative Does Not Cry: this is a character choice I have made. this is because they have had that emotional response beaten out of them. the operative isn't capable of taking their own trauma seriously, because they're not equipped to deal with it. they can't look at it head-on.

likewise, nash isn't capable of being a gentle, reassuring, sympathetic person, much as they might want to; a big part of that relationship is the idea that the pair of you have to relearn to how to relate to one another in your new contexts, and that isn't a smooth process. nash also has reasons to be reticent with you that are yet to be explored - this relationship is undergoing development, with both of you as violent people who commit violent acts, and who relate through violence. your relationship is built on your capacity to commit violence together. they are not equipped to deal with violence affecting you in the way it might someone else, because you've both spent the last ten years being conditioned and trained to assault other people. part of the theme of this game is to explore the way these people might experience a uniquely traumatic violent event, and the effect this might have on their own capacity to endure and process violence again themself.

I understand that it might not be the way people want to play their characters, but it's the way the character is written, and I am doing that on purpose. all I'm asking is that you trust me when I say that this is not going to be swept under the rug, even in the least volatile relationship you can have with rohan. if that's not possible for you - if you can't trust me to do this - then you're welcome to stop playing.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: 😘

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s another tap on the window. You shake your head, ignoring it. Go away, go away, go away. Another comes, this one louder and you turn, ready to shout at him to leave you alone. Why is he there? Why is he bothering you? 

You spin and stop short. A little boy smiles from just over the little ledge and his dad stands behind him, his hand hovering at the window. You blink and move forward to slide open the glass. As you do, you peer around, searching for the bearded man in his button-up. He’s gone. You think. You hope. 

“Sorry, I was cleaning,” your voice tremors before it evens out, “how can I help you?” 

“What do you want, kiddo?” The man puts his hands on his son’s shoulders, “rocky road?” 

“I want choccy!” The kid demands. 

“Double chocolate or chocolate chip or chocolate brownie?” You prompt, smiling as your eyes continue to rove around, waiting for any glimpse of that man. 

“Double,” his dad answers for him, “I’ll have a scoop of praline and cream.” 

“Sounds great? Bowl or cone?” 

“Sugar cones are fine,” the man replies as he takes out his wallet. 

You go through the transaction on habit alone. The man seems slightly agitated by your twitchiness but still drops a tip in the jar. You thank him and lean out the window to see along the side of the booth. Is he gone? Really gone? 

You can’t shake his shadow. You just can’t believe he would show up like that, then act so casually. Like you’re old friends. You chatted for one year and you didn’t even know who he really was. That’s not a friendship, that’s just strange. 

You don’t close the window. You’re already nervous about having it closed for so long. Your manager takes complaints very seriously and you can’t exactly afford to drop one job when you’re considering a second. 

You check the time. Right. A couple hours. You can make it through. If you see him again, maybe you’ll call the cops. Won’t that be funny to explain? Maybe he could use the humiliation of fessing up to his betrayal. 

You don’t feel better about the back-up plan but at least you have one. Sort of. It all depends on if they even believe you. 

The after-dinner crowd begins to burgeon and you find yourself forgetting the unwanted customer for a whole line of new ones. You scoop and scrape and dish out the flavours with a faulty smile. When you’re through the rush, the tip jar is close to full. At least you had a fruitful night. 

You hope that the locals scared Andy away. Or your reaction. You don’t think he came all that way expecting that. Surely, he wouldn’t bother if he thought you were just going to turn him away. Yet why would he expect anything else? 

You really don’t understand. 

As your shift comes to an end, you’re anxious to lock up. Leaving is another matter. You can’t help but look over your shoulder as you twist the key from outside. You turn your back to the wall and wearily wade through the dark. You won’t be caught off guard again. 

You take a different route than usual. You don’t know why but it seems like a clever idea. You keep in the sheen of the street lights. You keep your phone in your hand just in case. You remember all those precautionary safety presentations they had on campus about walking home alone. 

You let out a sigh as you reach your street. Your grandmother’s house sits nestled behind the overgrown walnut tree. You feel safer in sight of it.  

You slow as you sense something off. There’s a car you don’t recognise. An SUV that doesn’t fit in the neighbourhood. He wouldn’t be there. Then you think of the flowers. He knows where you live. 

Your name makes you yipe as a shadow emerges from the silver vehicle. Your feet tangle and you stumble. Keep going or go back. Either way won’t be an escape. You stop and face him wide-eyed. 

“Please, leave me alone,” you beg. 

“Honey, please, I’m not here to do anything but apologise,” Andy strides across the street and you can’t help but shy away. “Won’t you just hear me out?” 

“No, I told you--” 

“And I sat and listened. Don’t you think you owe me the same courtesy?” He insists. 

“But-- I already told you, Andy, what you did--” 

“I know what I did,” he breathes, “I think about it constantly. Every second of every minute of every day. I think of you and I can’t get you out of my head because I know it was wrong. I can’t stand that I hurt you so bad. You don’t deserve that. After everything you’ve gone through--” 

“I only told you those things because I thought you were someone else,” you hiss, “I can’t... I can’t forget the lies. I can’t move on, alright? And honestly, I don’t think we have much in common. We’re in different places.” 

“That didn’t matter before. We got along--” 

“Because you--- you were pretending to be a teenager,” you bluster, “how old are you? Can’t you see how insane this all is?” 

He winces and his jaw ticks. In the glint of the streetlight, his eyes sockets are dark pools and his broad shoulders seem even wider, his figure even taller. You lean back on your heel and sway, looking towards you grandmother’s house. 

“It’s not... I never meant to hurt you.” 

“You did,” you shrug, “Andy, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. We were just gaming, shooting the shit, that’s whatever. The best thing you can do is get help. Talk to someone.” 

“I want to talk to you,” he says. 

“A professional,” you insist, “I’m nineteen. I can’t help you.” 

“But you did,” he snips. 

“Not how you need to be helped, okay? I’m asking you to stop. Go. It’s over. It never really was. I was friends with Jacob, not Andy. You chose that.” 

He hangs his head and heaves. You stand in silence. Slowly, you sidestep and flinch as he mirrors you. He reaches for you and you back away from him. He retracts and pushes his fingers through his hair. 

“Sorry, sorry, I just...” he croaks, “honey,” that word, again, “if I get help, will you talk to me? If I go, get some pills or something, will you just give me a chance?” 

You huff and shake your head, “Andy, there’s lots of people online you can game with. People your own age. Maybe you should try the discord--” 

“No, not them. You.” 

“Andy,” you plead, “I’m... no. No. You can’t do this. You can’t just show up and make me listen. You can’t send me flowers and come to my work and force me to be your friend. Alright? That’s not... healthy.” 

“I wanna be better. For you. That’s what I’m telling you,” he steps closer until you’re against the prickly hedges. “I wanna do everything for you. I can make your life so much better. Honey, don’t you want that? Don’t you want someone who wants you? For once?” 

You’re quiet, stunned by the insinuation, of the truth in it. 

“That’s cruel,” you whisper. 

“I don’t mean—not like that. I only, I’m trying to show you what I can give you--” 

“I don’t want anything from you,” you sniffle, “or anything to do with you. Can’t you get that through your head?” 

He staggers back as if he’s been struck. He shakes his head and stammers, “what-- why? Why not?” 

You blink, long and hard. How many times do you need to repeat yourself? You roll your eyes and turn on your heel. You brace yourself for him to follow but he doesn’t. 

His shadow looms just along the edge of your peripheral and as you turn into your grandma’s yard, you glance back. He watches you but stays where he is. He just stands there. You shiver and raise your phone, lighting up the screen, hoping he gets the idea. You could call the police. 

He takes a step back then pivots sharply. He crosses the street back to the SUV and the door slams behind him. You jump in your shoes and quickly scramble up the walkway to your grandma’s front door. You’re hoping that’s the last time you have to tell him to go away. Next time, you might just have to be mean about it. 

🎮

You try to sleep. It comes in shallow spurts that leave you more and more tired. You don’t have a shift, thank god, but you’re also not so grateful to be left without distraction. You give in to futility as the sun peers in between your curtains and you groan at the dull weight in your temples. 

You creep out quietly to make a coffee. Just instant powder so the machine doesn’t wake your grandma. You go back to your room and sit in a groggy daze, waking yourself with the warmth of each sip. You sigh out and hang your head. 

There was enough to figure out a week ago. Now, you don’t know how many problems you truly have. You’re not so certain last night got the point across, especially after the first two times didn’t work. Third time’s the charm, right? Besides, how much effort are you really worth? 

You can’t just sit still. Your eyes keep itching to look at your Switch, a now cursed item in your collection. You finish the coffee and change out of your pajamas into a pair of sweats and faded tee. You’ll catch up on some chores, keep yourself busy and grandma happy. Besides, you’re not brave enough to venture outside just yet. 

You grab your head phone and pop them over your ears and search through your phone for your cleaning playlist. You’ll start with the living room. Give it a sweep and a mop, wait until grandma’s up to do the vacuuming. Dishes next and the kitchen. Scour the fridge for the forgot produce in the back and take out the trash. You have more than enough to do. 

You wipe off the end tables then the coffee table, sorting the clutter and clearing the trash. You dust the television and the shelves of knickknacks and the ornamental fireplace against the wall. No matter what you do, there’s always a slightly dingy smell to the place. 

When the living room is decent, you move into the kitchen. You turn up your music and drown out the house around you. Dishes, floors, cupboards, cobwebs... You feel the effort in your muscles as you stretch out the kinks from your pitiful sleep. 

You’re entirely obliviously to the existence of others until your grandmother appears with a scowl, pinching your arm as she glowers in her house robe. You glance at the time. You’ve been at it for a few hours. You pull your headphones off your ears and pause your music with a tap of the button on the cord. 

“Oh, morning, do you want some coffee?” You offer. 

She’s unimpressed by your efforts as she crosses her arms. It is kind of early for her to be up. Her nostrils flare as she sniffs. 

“You better make a full pot for your visitor,” she sneers. 

You blink at her and scoff, not understanding her, “visitor?” 

Her eyes are narrowed and her lip curls, “the one who’s been pounding on my door while you’ve been listening to your racket.” She jabs an ear of your headphones, “damn woke me up.” 

“I don’t... who?” 

“Says you knew his son. The dead one,” she shakes her head, “sad, I suppose.” 

You stare at her. You hear movement in the front room, just on the other side of that wall. You glance through the archway and see a shadow shift. She’s not lying. How else would she know? 

“What did he tell you?” You breathe. 

“More than you, eh,” she snaps, “what are you doing gaping at me like a fish, I need a damn coffee. Too early for this nonsense. A dead kid, some stranger in my front room... what trouble are you getting into?” 

“N-nothing, grandma, I don’t... get him out of here. I don’t know him--” 

“He knows you. Knows your name. Says you and his boy were at school together. ‘Splains the flowers, I guess. Condolences, not that you cared, did ya?” She shakes her head, “you always were off in your own little world. Well, I’m not doin’ your dirty work for ya. You ain’t gonna be your mother if I can help it so you want him gone, you tell him you didn’t give a damn about that dead one.” 

You frown. You don’t understand why she’s so callous. She’s never shown any concern about anything but her books. It’s not your fault your parents didn’t want you. Or that she doesn’t either. You only ever begged for her attention, for a sliver of her approval. 

You blow out between your lips. You won’t argue. There’s no use in it. Besides, it’s a small house, you know he heard all that, that he knows you’re on your own. Maybe that’s why he came all this way. Because he knows you have nothing. 

[brynn-lear]

LOCKED AND LOADED [Yandere!Wanderer x Reader]

Prompt: The world is about to end. How will you grieve when you're forced to be with a miserable man until the last second? [Dedicated To: @mixed-kester for the Alone Together Event]

Content Tags: yandere!scaramouche "fluff" oneshot (yes, there are no other parts:]), major persona 3 spoilers but you DON’T need to know the game before reading this since everything is explained, improper use of a S.E.E.S evoker /j, Scaramouche is so normal about you, UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, major character death/s–

V. Acceptance.

"Where the hell are you, (Y/n)?"

Standing near what should have been the front doors of his university was a short man with dark purple hair. He leaned precariously against them, his head tilted upward as if the sickly green moon's ominous pull was nothing to be afraid of. Gekkoukan University's nearby dorms– fraternity and sorority houses included– are not usually this silent. Instead of people, coffins were aligned perpendicular to the ground.

The wanderer glanced at his watch with mild interest. He had been waiting for a while now. Your guest hoisted himself up, circling the ground with the tip of his shoe. The baseline of his attitude had always defaulted to irritability and passive-aggressiveness. The vertically aligned hour-and-minute hands do not placate it. The timing itself makes it worse.

It's December 31st, 2009, 12 AM– the Dark Hour.

With a harsh sneer, he pocketed his hands. You usually have the door to the Velvet Room open to him whenever. What's the big deal? Were you seriously THAT mad at him? Really? He didn't do anything to warrant this "pettiness". He had never known silence as much as this moment.

You should've accounted for the hostility that proceeds on the "off-chance" he did arrive early.

His tone darkened, his bloodied hands gripping his S.E.E.S evoker tightly.

"If you don’t show up, I will cleanse the world of human emotion all by myself"

You shook from afar, afraid of how he wouldn't hesitate to make his threat a reality. He had already taken so much– you were beyond mad at him. You were terrified. Wronged. Abused. You didn't want to step into the light. Much worse, step into his shadow.

The worst thing evil can do is to turn you into one of them.

He clutched the bloodied yellow scarf in his hands tightly.

Why did this happen?

How did things END up like this?

IV. Depression.

You took a deep breath and charged forward.

You don't trust [Wanderer] ever since Ryoji told him about the impending apocalypse.

Seldom do you leave the Velvet Room. You weren't hiding in the Velvet room months before the end of the world was imminent. When April had only reached its fourth day, there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time outside. So ignominiously innocent. You did not know who [Wanderer] was and how much effect he would have on your life at the time. You were just tired of the ongoing stream of uneventfulness.

And now here you are, berating the protagonist in full.

"[Wanderer], why is Ryoji missing?! US ATTENDANTS CAN'T FIND TRACK HIM ANYWHERE!!!"

With a fistful of his university uniform, you yanked him by the collar. Your eyes were livid as you reeled your composure. This wasn't what you had in mind when you were "isekai"d into a video game. Out of any game, why did it have to be Persona 3? And out of anyone that could be a protagonist, why did it have to be HIM?!

You thought this would be a grand affair... Whatever they spun in anime back when your reality existed were pure lies. Where are the scenic views? The mountains? The grasslands? This plane of existence you're forced to sit through for eternity was far from the RPG fantasy people would hope for. No closer you could ever be to paradise.

In fact, this man is threatening to ruin said paradise.

[Wanderer] pulled your hands away forcefully. His glare was not that different from yours. "Why do you care about him so much?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because his death means forgetting everything?!" You clenched your empty fists. "You know damn well what happens if he dies! You'll lose all the help you can get to stopping the Fall!"

Such a heavy weight on your shoulders but the protagonist doesn't care. This may be a turn-based game– but it wasn't based on you. If it was, you wouldn't be screaming your heart out at him! You wouldn't be an NPC. Hell, you'd probably be a better protagonist than him.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed every stress out of your system.

"Listen—" You rubbed your temple. "You need to start forming bonds. Social links. Support system. Confidants. Whatever you want to call it. You were supposed to have the answer by now as to what life is for."

[Wanderer] remained silent throughout your spiels. His facial expression alone was enough to infer immense disinterest. You were mindlessly doing your job. There will be no tirade or physical aggression that can convince him that you believe in your assertions with full conviction.

"Do you want to see him?"

"Yes! Of course. Knowing you, you're—"

"Tempted to kill him because you think I want the world to end?"

"Obviously."

That's where you're wrong.

A nihilistic man can have other reasons to commit murder.

"But if he's missing, you can forget about him, right?"

"What on earth are you talking about?!"

[Wanderer] turned around. "Meet me later, you know the time."

"I'll show you where Ryoji is."

III. Bargaining.

XX/09/2009

He doesn't recall the time he was brought into this world like you had.

Puppets are malleable. Memories are easy to overwrite when your body is held together by white wood and "khemia". His past evades him.

Maybe it's better this way.

He took you to Chagall Café. Although it was your first time out in a long while, he had no qualms about ignoring your questions. He feigned deafness as you asked about the news, his college life, friends, or anything related to what was happening in 2009. And he even ignored your humble request to buy the cheapest coffee for you. Instead, he bought you a chocolate frappe.

"For Elizabeth's cutest little sibling." He said, sarcastically copying Elizabeth's tone as he sharply handed the drink. "Wouldn't want everyone's darling to get a caffeine addiction."

Thanks, asshat.

Of all his offensive behavior— he really spent more money just to insult you. You shook your head and accepted it. It's the most expensive one on the menu too. What dedication to being a hater. But before you could open your wallet, he shot your payment down.

"Just take it." He smirked. "Look at you, paying me back for treating you poorly. Are you a masochist?"

You immediately shoved your money back in. "You still bought me a free drink, so really, who's the loser here? Prick."

[Wanderer] laughed heartily before he pulled out his battered codal, which had underlined texts for provisions he deemed important. There was a momentary softness in his gaze that disappeared in an instant.

But that's the only conversation he planned on having that evening. He did mention he'll drag you out in his study session so you weren't too shocked by it. Instead, you sat and awkwardly people-watched. The world you came from and this one were identical. You got through your old 2009 just fine— it's just that Tatsumi Port Island was not a real location from your original Japan.

Your memories about the video game Persona aren't very clear since you reincarnated in the game, but the red band [Wanderer] wore on his sleeve affirmed that he is the leader of S.E.E.S. It's nice to know that someone like him has the potential to become a leader.

[Wanderer] appeared wholly immersed in his studies.

…

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you looked around—

…?!

He immediately grabbed your hand. You yelped slightly as you noticed the iron grip he had.

"Where are you going?"

Don't leave him.

He squeezed just a bit more tightly.

"W-What the— I'm just going to the bathroom." You felt a shiver down your spine as you shared his gaze. There's a dull coldness to it you couldn't quite place, as if he had been a witness to injustice, sevenfold.

You quietly sat back down. He still hasn't let go of your hand.

"Good riddance." He muttered.

"If it isn't [Wanderer]!"

You turned around, yanking your hand away.

It's Ryoji.

You stood up, gawking.

"W-Woah, are you okay?" Ryoji asked, hurriedly approaching you. While you were frozen in place, [Wanderer] looked at his empty hand, feeling your warmth escape his fingertips.

G-Good… he's still alive.

You thought [Wanderer] killed him.

[Wanderer] is the wildcard, and that's a terrifying factor to consider. He hasn't shown any interest in humanity. Knowing his past has not increased any hope on your end. Everyone else in his eyes are insignificant insects.

He has the power to end Ryoji.

He has the power to end this world.

Locked and loaded.

Ryoji's eyes softened. "Wait, I think I know a beautiful face like yours from somewhere… You must be [Wanderer]'s attendant, (Y/n), right?"

You blinked.

"Wait, how did you…"

He chuckled, taking and placing a soft kiss on your gloved hands.

"I have my ways." Ryoji winked.

"Don't touch them." [Wanderer] sneered.

Ryoji stood up straight, unfazed by his threatening tone. You took a moment to examine his appearance. He had a lot of white clothing and a big yellow scarf around his neck. Just below his left eye is a mole. On the surface, he appeared quite human, but everyone seated at this table was aware of his true nature.

He is the 13th arcana. The appraiser.

You and [Wanderer] have every right to be wary.

"I'm Ryoji Mochizuki. It's nice to be officially introduced to you, Mx. (Y/n)."

"Ryoji Mochizuki…" You tasted the syllables.

"Oh? Who knew hearing my name from your lips makes it sound so wonderful."

"C-Cut it out, you don't mean that." You said, a little flustered.

[Wanderer]'s gaze fixated on you, stewing in his concoction of envy and misery. His fists were clenched beneath the table, knuckles turning white. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you continued engaging in conversation with Ryoji. His laughter was grating his ears. He couldn't bear the sight of you engaging with another man, especially someone as flirtatious as him.

Ryoji, sensing [Wanderer]'s distress, shot him a casual glance. To top the look, he paired it with a knowing smirk. He made mental notes of the man's clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.

"You seem a little on edge, [Wanderer]. Finals coming up?" He feigned innocence.

"It's December, and I'm not on edge." He scoffed, trying not to make his gritted teeth evident. "Don't you own a calendar? Finals are in March. To think a pea-brain like you managed to transfer to Gekkan…"

"Right, right." Ryoji smiled, closing his eyes. "Then it must be my proposal you're thinking of."

You stiffened; [Wanderer] did not.

"Ryoji—"

"I know, Mx. (Y/n)." He started. "I know you're not too keen on the idea of killing me. My existence is the affirmation of the Fall. None of you— sorry, I forgot (Y/n) is from the Velvet room— I meant none of them will live till Spring… Or perhaps it's more accurate to say they'll forfeit the will to live."

…

"… I-I'm sorry." Ryoji buried his face in his yellow scarf. There's a certain tremble in his voice that truly emphasizes his sorrow. "Just as all living things die, the flow of time cannot be hindered. But there's comfort in killing me. If you do… you won't have to suffer for the coming days."

If [Wanderer] kills Ryoji, Tartarus, the Dark Hour— the burden of everyone's memories will all disappear.

But [Wanderer] can retain his.

He's not originally from this world after all…

However, should he let him live, the rest of S.E.E.S's life will continue until everyone's inevitable demise.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

[Wanderer] rolled his eyes, diverting his eyes back to his notes. "Everyone will die soon, who cares? I've heard your spiel several times already. You need to get more entertaining material."

"[Wanderer]!" You scolded him.

Your eyes widened in disbelief at [Wanderer]'s unwittingly casual jabs at the apocalypse. You wanted to ask him if he was even listening, but the truth will disappoint you. A cold sweat formed on your brow.

Ryoji's smile crooked into a hopeless one.

"You depend on (Y/n) too much."

[Wanderer] froze. "What did you say…?"

"You have a group of people around you, eager to establish a bond— eager to be friends with you. You have met Junpei, Yukari, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Fuuka, and many others– but you don't consider any of them as your friends." Ryoji shook his head. "Instead, you spend your time with just (Y/n). Never anyone else. Just them. To the point that I think it's unhealthy."

"I don't care for humans." He replied immediately.

"You're human too, [Wanderer]." Ryoji shot back. "You're made of blood, bones, and flesh."

[Wanderer] fell silent. What Ryoji said was true, and yet…

"Am I?" He laughed.

The sound was hollow and mechanical. Deprived of genuine mirth. It did not sound forced, yet his eyes were dull.

…

Perhaps he lived as a puppet for so long that the idea of being human has yet to reach him.

Ryoji shifted, uncomfortably glancing between you two. The tension was palpable despite the cafe's peaceful ambiance. Ryoji cleared his throat softly.

"I should leave…" He trailed off, voice slightly wavering. His eyes darted around, scrambling for words to say. "But, um, before I leave, I just want to say again that you need to give it some more thought, [Wanderer]... It's a big deal… Just…"

Ryoji sighed. "Remember to make your choice to spare or kill me by December 31st. I'm glad you're having fun but don't get too distracted with (Y/n). I'll be waiting."

That being said, his footsteps reverberated loudly in the otherwise still room as he turned and headed for the door. He dared to turn back as he grabbed for the doorknob and saw you two sharing a look that he couldn't determine if it was one of contemplation or displeasure. He hurried out and the cafe door shut behind him.

"Happy?" [Wanderer] bitterly asked.

You paused for a moment… then grinned.

"Tsk, what are you laughing at, worm?"

"Nothing, nothing!" You shrugged. "I just thought that for a guy with a stick up his ass, you're cute when you're jealous."

That riled [Wanderer] up in an instant.

You do not know the full extent of his envy's filth.

"I am NOT—" He stopped, realizing how counterproductive it would be. "Whatever. I don't care."

"Uhuh?"

"Shut up and finish your damn chocolate!"

II. Anger.

Before you know it, it's April.

"Seriously, you three, I'm bored as fuck! Can't I just take a stroll outside?" You yelled, waving the heavy persona compendium in the air as your sisters ignored you.

It hasn't been long since you reincarnated, so your right to go outside isn't as liberal. Given the impending threat of an apocalypse, the Velvet Room attendants are especially overprotective.

"(Y/n), dear sibling, watch your mouth! You mustn't let Igor or Nameless hear you speak so vulgarly."

Taking a good look at your new "siblings", you've noticed how almost everyone was present. Margaret sat elegantly on the sofa while Theodore & Elizabeth were doing their best to calm you down. It's almost rare to have all three in one place. The three oldest were busy-bodies who had more eccentric matters they devoted their attention to. Including rapping and dancing, though neither performances are good for your senses.

"If boredom plagues you, then you should try teasing Theodore." Elizabeth yawned. "He's easy pickings."

"Sister!" Theodore pouted. "Shouldn't (Y/n) focus on studying how fusing works? It would be a better use of their time…"

"The day (Y/n)'s new wildcard learns the value of social links might just be the day miserly politicians become generous." Elizabeth shrugged.

You paled, tugging her sleeve. "Oh fuck… Am I screwed?"

She gave you a lopsided smile. "I may be your new sibling but that does not mean I am obliged to resolve your problems, (Y/n). Learn to solve this on your own."

Theodore coughed.

"Please, stop scaring them, sister Elizabeth. It's not their fault this new guest is a cruel arbiter. I fear there will not be a second of groundless joy in store for them…"

"You're not helping me relax either! Motherfucker. Can't you two speak normally?"

"Settle down, all of you."

The four of you stood straight as Igor tilted his chin up. Though you've gotten used to his bloodshot gaze, it had a way of prickling your skin this time around. With his signature smile, he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.

"Our guest is about to enter."

"W-Wait, RIGHT NOW?!?"

Before you could react, the room transformed into what appeared to be a large elevator. The walls were barred and creaking noises began to subtly make their presence. A floating door materialized, and soon, opened.

Dark purple hair and eyes, short frame, soft face.

"…Hmm?"

You blinked.

"Wait, no way…"

You know him.

Of course, you know him.

"Everyone, meet [Wanderer]."

You decided that you two should reintroduce yourselves and forget that the past ever happened.

For now, you had been gifted with a vital role: being the protagonist's attendant.

According to your Igor, your role is to assist your guest in fusing personas. He had chosen you specifically in advance as you are his "anima/animus figure". Initially, that job was for Elizabeth. However, your beliefs, your intuition, your emotions— they're in perfect tune with [Wanderer]. Igor expects you to facilitate their spiritual and psychological growth and implore them to interact more with others.

Which, based on that alone, sounds like this puppet just hired an unpaid therapist.

"What do you want?"

"Well…"

Since you became [Wanderer]'s attendant, you've started to have thicker skin. He will always make his crankiness known each visit. You're slightly grateful for it, for how else would you know patience otherwise? Though his personality rubs you the wrong way, his strength does have merits you cannot ignore. Even Belladona, the Velvet Room's devout singer, had sung praises for his mettle. There was one line that struck you about her song, something about him being like a puppet with a beating heart unbeknownst to himself…

Which is why you thought you might as well try to see if you could convince him to take you out sometimes.

"What, like a date?" [Wanderer] scoffed then smirked, a light blush on his face. "Are you really that desperate?"

"No, eww—" You rolled your eyes. "I meant it literally. Igor and the others wouldn't let me go outside unless I'm with someone they trust."

He looked away and covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"Like a child?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up." You deadpanned, your pride slightly chipped. "Like a child or whatever you want to see it, as long as it gets me out of here. I just want to see the world before it all…"

You paused.

Better not to bring it up. You're not sure if Igor told him yet.

[Wanderer] raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

You shrugged. "Is money not enough?"

He paused.

…

"You've got to be kidding me— Fine, what else do you want?"

His eyelids lowered, hissing slightly. "Evil expects evil from others, huh? I wasn't trying to think of anything more, but now that I think about it…"

"Oh, great."

"… I can take your request," he pointed at you. "But only if you join me in the library. Anywhere else, especially loud places like clubs, I'll send your ass back."

That's a no-brainer.

"Deal!"

Though you've missed the peculiar sight, [Wanderer] had a small smile on his face as you shook hands. The two of you had become nearly inseparable since then.

Worryingly, he's closer to you than other humans.

The only relationship he needed was with you.

And with what little time this world has left, you hope you could have a last cup of coffee with him…

I. Denial.

Your reality crumbled. What a START.

Your family, friends... all gone. No one was left. You convince yourself you "deserved" this punishment for smoking a life away with dreadful workloads, no matter how untrue it was. When the world burnt down, you were sent into a darkness you had not known before.

The person in charge of your reincarnation process told you that for the next few minutes, you and a selected companion will see your lives flash before your eyes in a void— and it will not necessarily be a comforting sight.

But you woke up relaxed. In an abyss filled with broken mirrors meant to depict your character to pieces, you donned a plain expression. There was not an inch of you that grieved for what was lost. Similarly, you had no care for how you were being transmigrated to another realm. Though you had grown accustomed to this isolation, humanity always struggled with silence. There was ringing on your fingers. When you unclasped your hands, you saw a pointed shard. Curiously, you clenched it. But no matter the tightness of your grip, no blood came out.

Your breath fogged up the glass. You wondered why that Memokeeper told you that you deserve to live on. You thought your life was rather unremarkable.

Makes sense. You thought to yourself. I'd rather pride myself on a boring life with integrity than an ambitious yet fraudulent one.

「Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Was that all your life was...? Then tell me, little (Y/n), why does the mirror in front of you appear distorted?」

And so, you gazed forward. Your reflection stood tall, larger than your life, and it beckoned you to come closer. This "(Y/n) (L/n)" had the opposite of a Cheshire grin- perhaps a caricature- perhaps an accurate depiction. Wearied of yourself and wearied of the sycophantic students around you. How unhappy are you to see yourself as someone like this? Are these the emotions you wish to be preserved? Is this the memory you want your world to be remembered by?

「These memories must be corrupted. Someone must be tampering with them. I do not think you lived a miserable life.」

I can't answer your questions either. But I think that reflection is who I am, because sometimes...

"I wish I had never been born at all."

Your lips were parted, but no sound came out. You resonated with those words, but they did not come from you. The voice was dark, hopeless, and alone.

When you were being sent off, you thought no one was around to greet you. There was another man. He had short hair and purple eyes- an incredibly rare sight in your world. This man seemed to be gazing at his reflection as well. You needn't know how he saw himself. The emptiness in his eyes did not differ from yours. He, too, was masking isolation as independence with an intense fragility. The dread he inflicted upon you was the closest you've ever gotten to facing your own perceived "weakness".

His memories were a mixbag. Some were filled with domestic bliss, but the anger in his heart triumphed more. He had friends but thought himself betrayed. His heart was constructed through a system of evasions, and he was a specialist in self-deception. This man knew little of emotions but had an abundance of it. It's no wonder he refused to sacrifice the artistry of his vengeance against humanity. You can sympathize with how he could not attach himself to those around him. He was burdened with malicious knowledge. Fakes. Lies. Insincerities. A class of his own.

However, he had a sin you cannot empathize with. A trait you can read that you're certain he had never noticed about himself.

He was a sickeningly beautiful man with a peculiar innocence.

He looked like a man who truly did not live in the real world.

This man did not feel real to you. He felt made-up. Fictional. His aura of flawlessness appalled you. Though you shared the same sentiments, you thought him dimensionless.

Yet this is supposedly your first meeting.

「Is it? Where have you seen him before? Can't you remember, dear (Y/n)?」

No. No, I can't.

「... What a shame. Worry no more, little (Y/n). Close your eyes. When you wake up, you will meet your new reality— new realm— new family.」

You nodded and agreed to a higher existence you did not believe in. Unlike others, you were a little bit more incapable of trusting a living soul. But there's no other choice.

Life is ordinarily far from anyone's control in the first place. Why bother fighting? If following can make her fuck off, it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

Wait…

Is that…

Scaramouche?

Before you closed your eyes and accepted your fate, you could've sworn...

He looked at you with a crooked grin.

「Thou art I... And I am thou...

Thou hast established a new bond...

Thou shalt be blessed when creating

Personas of the Universe Arcana..."」

"Hmm. Strange… Is that truly the order of the story?"

A woman stared at you.

Not (Y/n) (L/n).

YOU.

BEHIND.

THE.

SCREEN.

She smiled wryly.

Hate might empower you for a short while, but it comes at the cost of consuming you whole. Should a shard or any surface reflect [Wanderer]'s face, he would understand what he had become. However, it's too late. He had made his choice and stomped away any remorse he could have. When all is said and done, he alone will spread the ashes. He alone will stand. A blank slate.

[Wanderer] spent his life looking for scapegoats and ended up removing his responsibility.

Betrayals?

What a sad, sad puppet.

What a poor excuse to justify an entire apocalypse.

A poor excuse of a man.

"THE ARCANA IS THE MEANS BY WHICH ALL IS REVEALED." She muttered softly. "And you have been reading your story in REVERSE. Perhaps this is the only way this world can attain SALVATION. The chronological order is not a slice of life. You did not have a disagreement and decided to start your relationship over again. Life is far more WICKED."

"Read it again, but from DENIAL to ACCEPTANCE. The proper way to GRIEVE DEATH."

With great reluctance, she took the five cards laid on the table and placed them in an upright position.

"Let's see if you'd rather ACCEPT the truth or live in DENIAL."

Mixed-Kester can now message Wanderer [prior to 12/31/2009]

[dandylovesturtles]

Hello, I'm back again with another fic. This one is set right after the Hidden City episodes.

I got inspired by this pic of Leo, because I thought it was funny that they included the little hairs sticking out even while he's in the jail cell:

-----

Splinter's light is on. Which is odd, because he's certain he didn't leave it that way.

He'd fallen asleep in front of the big projector, and woke up to the sound of his sons playing one of those racing games they love. He'd told them not to stay up too late (something he was sure would be ignored) and then made his way back to the atrium to fall asleep in his room in front of his tube TV.

But light spilling out from under the door. When he gets closer, he can hear the sound of someone rummaging around inside.

Immediately, the worst case scenarios flood his head. One of their enemies has found them and is just inside, plotting some kind of attack against his life, or the lives of his children. They are just feet away, their shouts echoing down the corridor and into the atrium. Should he run and warn them? Or should he fight off the intruder?

In the end, he decides to go forward rather than back, creeping closer to the door. Silently he slides it open, just enough that he can look inside.

And there... is Blue, rummaging with intent through his nightstand drawer.

(Now that he thinks about it, there had been only three turtles in the TV room when he left. He'd just assumed Blue was in the bathroom, or getting a snack.)

He opens the door the rest of the way with much more sound, causing his son to jump a solid two feet in the air. "Blue! What are you doing?"

"GAH!" Blue whirls around, his hand held tight against his chest. "Holy crap, Dad! You gave me a heart attack!"

"Ninja should be more aware of their surroundings! Were you even watching the door?"

"I didn't think I would have to in my own house!"

"Well, let that be a lesson to you." Splinter folds his arms. "What are you looking for?"

Blue lowers his hands and shuffles back a step, grinning. "Looking for something? Whaaat makes you think I was looking for something?"

Splinter looks at the drawer Blue had been digging in when he arrived, its contents a mess. Blue glances at it as well, then back at Splinter.

"It was like that when I got here."

Splinter is not impressed. "Mm-hm."

"Heh, well... okay, I was looking for something, but I don't see it so I guess you don't have it." Blue eyes the atrium beyond Splinter, clearly trying to figure out how to slip past him. "Sooo I'll just be going now, haha!"

He tries to make his escape, but Splinter is quicker - he leaps up in the air, suspending himself in the doorframe, so that he is eye level with Blue just as he approaches.

"Blue. Tell me what you were looking for."

"Nothing important, seriously-"

"Leonardo-"

"A razor," he says quickly. "I was looking for a razor."

That... was not an answer he would have expected. Splinter can't keep the bafflement off his face. "A razor?"

"To shave with," Leo elaborates.

Splinter can't help but laugh at that, squinting at his son's smooth and hairless face. "Don't you feel like that is some wishful thinking, Blue?"

"Ugh!" Blue scowls at that, folding his arms. "I'm serious! Here, look at my head."

He bends his neck, and Splinter now sees what he's talking about: blonde hairs, scraggly and uneven, that dot his sons scalp in no discernable pattern. Splinter hadn't noticed it earlier, but his eyesight isn't what it used to be.

"What- where did those come from!?"

Blue straightens his head back up, looking both irritated and embarrassed. He doesn't seem eager to answer, but now that Splinter is thinking about it, this feels familiar...

Right! Yesterday, in the Hidden City! He'd gone to find Blue to borrow his odachi, and when he'd gotten there, Blue had a full head of blonde hair...

Ah.

Splinter lets himself drop to the ground. "Your hair yesterday... it was not a wig?"

Blue chews his lip for a moment before finally admitting, "It was some kind of... living hair yokai."

"Oh no... you let one of those on your head!? They are very dangerous! They sap your energy for themselves and take control of your sleeping body!"

"Yeah, that would have been great information to have a day ago." Blue rubs the top of his head self-consciously, then scowls. "Some of the hair stuck around, and... It just looks stupid, and it's kinda itchy, so..."

"Ah. Well, if I remember correctly, it will fall out on its own in a few days."

"Oh." Blue hesitates, then starts out the door again. "Okay. Well, uh... I'll get out of your hair, then."

He grins awkwardly as he slides past, and Splinter realizes just in time that he has not handled this correctly.

"Blue, wait," he says, and his son freezes just outside, glancing back over his shoulder. Splinter leaves him standing there, and goes to his dresser, pulling a thin black box out of one of the top drawers. There's an old shaving kit inside, complete with a razor that is still sharp. Splinter's not sure why he's kept it around, since he doesn't shave since becoming a rat (unless he's sick with the Rat Flu, of course, but for that he uses the electric trimmer), but he supposes it will come in handy tonight.

He walks back to Blue, holding the razor above his head. "Aha! Here we go."

"Oh! Thanks, daddio," Blue says with a grin, reaching out to take it - but Splinter does not hand it to him.

"Absolutely not. If you try to shave your own head you'll just carve yourself like a turkey." He lowers the razor and steps past Blue, into the atrium. "Grab a stool and meet me in the bathroom. I'll do it for you."

He doesn't hear Blue's footsteps moving. "Seriously? Come on, I can do it myself."

"No complaints!" He beckons Blue on with his tail. "Come on! I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"...Ough boy," Blue mutters, but he moves to do as Splinter's told him, and that's enough.

-----

They reconvene in the bathroom, as he instructed. He has Leo sit on the stool in front of the sink - it just works out that he can lean his neck against the basin, while Splinter perches in the sink itself for a good view.

"Now, I think we might have... Aha, here we go!"

He pulls shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet; again, he's not sure why they have this, since none of them shave, but he wouldn't be surprised if the boys use it to pull pranks on each other. Besides, it just feels like a normal thing to have in a home full of men, even if they don't strictly need it.

He squirts some into his hand, then layers it across Blue's scalp. Blue giggles like he's ticklish, and Splinter shooshes him, even though he can't keep a little grin off his face at that.

Then he carefully starts to shave across Blue's scalp, starting in the middle and working his way out. The hairs are pretty sparse, but some of them are too fine for him to see, so it's better to just do the whole scalp and be sure to catch them all.

"Why is it that you let the yokai on your head in the first place?" he asks a few strokes in. He's curious about it, after all.

"I didn't let it," Leo argues. "I got tricked. The guy who gave it to me told me it was just a potion to grow hair."

"Aaaah... And it was a scam. I'm guessing that's how you came to be in jail when we got there?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's alright." Splinter pats his shoulder. "Live and learn!"

Though, that didn't answer the question Splinter had actually been getting at. Blue says nothing else, so he tries again.

"But... why did you want to grow hair?" When Blue doesn't answer right away, he adds, "Do you wish you had hair?"

"No," says Blue. "...Yes. ...Maybe?"

Splinter has to bite back a chuckle. "I see."

Blue sighs, wringing his hands in his lap. "I mean, I guess I never really thought about it too much? It's fun to wear wigs sometimes, but I never really cared about being bald, before..."

He trails off. "Before?" Splinter prompts.

Blue is chewing on his lip again. "Have you ever heard of Hirsute? The fancy beach club?"

"Oh, of course!" Splinter grins at the recognizable name. Now that he remembers, wasn't that where he'd found Blue? "They have veeery strict requirements for membership, but of course I was always allowed in because Lou Jitsu had such perfect-"

He cuts himself off, looking down at Blue, the peeks of his bald scalp through the shaving cream. Finally, he has all the pieces.

"...They wouldn't let you in, would they?" he asks, hands stilling in their task.

Blue chuckles dryly. "Even better. I got in but they threw me out."

"...Hmph." Splinter gives his foot a stomp against the porcelain. "Well, who needs their resort, anyway? Honestly, their drinks were overpriced and their steaks were always too dry."

"I already saw how nice it was, Dad, but thanks for trying to help."

"Mm, well, we will find an even nicer one! One that does not discriminate."

"Yeah, sure," says Blue, but he sounds downcast. And really, Splinter doesn't know what to tell him. He doesn't know how they would find this mythical tolerant beach club.

"You've... always told us to be careful, with humans," says Blue after a few moments of silence. His eyes are locked on the ceiling, hands still held tight in his lap. "About not letting them see us, and all that."

"...Yes," says Splinter sadly. He wishes it wasn't so, but it was for their safety. "I was worried... about how they would treat you boys."

"I know," says Blue. "And I get it. I know not everyone is April."

"Unfortunately not," Splinter agrees.

"But even most of the humans who've actually met us... They were cool with it, or at least, if they hate us, it's for non-turtle reasons. So it was like, I knew that there were humans who would be scared, or who might even try to hurt us, but they were always... You know." Blue waves his hand in the air. "Like... a concept, or whatever."

"Hmmm... Abstract?" Splinter suggests, and Blue snaps his fingers.

"Yeah! Abstract. I didn't have a face or a voice, just a vague idea that someone could be a jerk to me. And..." He lowers his hand and rubs it up and down his arm. "I thought since I knew that, I wouldn't be surprised when it finally happened? But... then an actual person was looking at me, a real person, and telling me that I wasn't good enough. Telling me that I wasn't allowed in just because of something I can't even help, just... the way my head is, and... and I don't know. It was just way worse than I thought it was going to be."

Splinter's hands still again, his heart clenching in his chest. Oh, his son. His sweet Baby Blue...

"And," Blue continues quickly, "I know it's dumb, it's just a snooty beach club, and it's just hair, and I just need to get over it-"

"Blue," Splinter cuts him off urgently. He nudges his shoulders, trying to get the boy to sit up. "Leo. Please look at me."

Blue sits up, slowly turning on the stool to face the sink. His eyes are suspiciously red-rimmed, and Splinter feels a rush of emotions so strong they nearly sweep him off his feet. Hurt, for his son who was made to feel bad over something so trivial, and fury, for the people who caused the injury.

He reaches out and cups his son's face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his cheeks. His sons are more muscular than other children their age, but Blue still has baby fat on his cheeks. Splinter resists the urge to squish them.

"I wish they could all see what I see," he says softly. "A young man who is so handsome, strong, and clever."

Blue's lip trembles slightly. "But they won't."

"Some will," he promises. "Not everyone is April... but she is not the only one, either."

"Just wish I knew who was an April and who wasn't," Blue says. "Before I get kicked out on my butt."

"Mm. It is hard. Some people make it obvious, and so many more do not." Splinter sighs. "When I came to America, I was already a celebrity. And still, there were many who did not accept me, or who did not think they needed to listen to me, or who were cruel. And it was the same, when I was taken to the Hidden City."

Blue gives him a sad, crooked smile. "You felt like an outsider, too, huh?"

"Very much, yes. Human and yokai... there are prejudices everywhere."

"So how do you deal with it?"

"Mm... there is no easy answer." Splinter guides Blue to turn around and lean against the sink again, before rest of the shaving cream drips. "I wish I could tell you that this is the worst you will ever face, but I can't promise you that. But I do not wish for you boys to hide from the world forever, either. Even if it is only among the yokai... I want what all parents want for their children."

"For them to have grandchildren?" Blue asks.

"Yes!" Splinter chuckles. "Cute babies to play with and then give back." He finishes shaving the last of Blue's head, then grabs a wash cloth to wipe him clean. "But no. I meant that, for all the people who may be cruel to you... I want there to be many more who are kind. And who love you as I do."

Blue's voice is soft as he mutters, "Oh."

"And I also want you to remember," Splinter leans forward, and kisses Blue on his forehead "that you are accepted here no matter what." He snorts. "Even if you want to make that hairstyle permanent."

"Oh, come on!" Blue huffs and gets up from the stool, his deeper green blush visible even though he is trying to look annoyed. "It wasn't that bad!"

"I'm just saying, I think you can do better!"

"What do you know, old man?" Blue scowls, but it's playful.

"Old man!? Hmph, the disrespect..." He folds his arms, then nods at the door. "We're done, so I'm going to bed. Your brothers are having some kind of go-karting tournament in the TV room."

"Oh shoot, I'm missing it!" Blue turns to run out, then skids to a stop and spins on his heel, running back and scooping Splinter out of the sink and into a hug.

"Thanks, Dad," he says, and Splinter can't help but chuckle, giving his shell a pat.

"Of course, Blue."

Blue sets him down, then turns and runs off again. Splinter can hear him yell, "Dibs on next race!" from down the corridor.

Splinter rinses the razor clean, then puts it back in his box. He considers taking it back to his room, but in the end he changes his mind, slotting it into the medicine cabinet.

Who knows? Maybe someone will need it again, one day.

[genz420]

How they Confuse their Feelings 🩵 🕯️

Masterlist | Rules

Content: How they Confuse their feelings Headcanons

Warning: None

Pairing(s): Character x Gn!reader

Character(s): Percy, Jason, Frank, Leo

Percy Jackson

Is super casual about it all

You’re telling me that Percy Jackson, Mister “Hero of Olympus” himself, doesn’t have a line outside his cabin for people who just want a second of his attention 

So if you say no

Okay

Bye

But the two of you will be in a conversation, and he will just be like: “You’re really beautiful,” 

Which isn’t unlike Percy to say 

Then he would hit you with the: “I think we should be more than friends,”

And then he would just go back to the conversation that you were having before, like he didn’t say anything 

Jason Grace

Once he realizes that he likes you more as a friend then will take his sweet line

Seriously 

Like a year at least before he will say anything 

I just feel like you’d have to say something if you want the relationship to go forward 

But let’s say you don’t say anything for a long time

Then Jason would go all out

Candle-lit dinner in New Rome 

Your favourite foods and drinks 

The son of Juprite did not inherit his father's lack of charisma or disrespect towards women

Would start off by saying that no matter he wants to remain friends and whatever you decide will be okay

But deep down he is scared 

Because he is baring his heart to you

Frank Zhang 

He would be a blushing mess 

Says it at the most inconvenient time 

Probably during a war game/capture the flag

He would just be in such awe of you

Blurts  it right out

Doesn’t leave you to respond to him before he is walking away

Fearing that he has ruined whatever the two of you had

Would avoid  you at all cost

But it is really easy to track down a 6’8 man

But mans is fast

Will bolt at the first sight of you

Cue the fake crying, and he is an apologizing 

Then you can either confess back or turn him down

But for the love that is all holy, don’t hurt his feelings 

Leo Valdez

Has a whole ass plan

For how he is going to confess 

For how you respond 

But it all goes out the window when it comes time

He chickens out 

Then ends up telling you when he knows you won’t be able to respond right away 

Like when you have your mouth full of food/water

Will watch your facial expression 

And if he sees the smallest amount of rejection, then you can bet that he will find a way to set himself on fire

[rivangel]

other than the fact that Levu gets turned on by his partner doing the most mundane stuff and simplest of things...he also loves (adores) to just simply watch them. Not in a creepy way, but because hes so full of love and wonder at how HE managed to have someone like them by his side. Hed be obsessed with his partner (in a health way ofc).

i had to write smth for this<3

Brows furrowed, you finick with the lid to the TV remote's battery compartment. Before, it was stuck like glue in the slot and since then it's grown oversized.

Unbeknownst to you, across the room you pulled Levi's attention from Solitaire on his phone. Nestled in the small armchair, knees folded to his chest. He's perfectly innocuous, head downturned and eyes lidded.

You blink a little. Finally, you notice and find his gaze with a question mark above your head.

His eyes are back on his phone so fast, you might think it was all in your head, and the game is annoying him. But you spot the pink growing on his cheeks. You smile.

“Awe, were you watching me?”

Your persistence is unspoken. Eventually, his lips press more into a pout. "...No, why would I."

“Seriously, is there something on my face, baby?”

He scowls, but it’s severely lacking on the intimidation factor. He was sneaking a peek at you changing the batteries in the TV remote, and now he’s blushing.

“You embarrassed?”

He shifts around in the seat, so all you have to see of him is his back now. He swings his feet over the armrest and reclines, turning his back on you like a little kid.

You laugh out loud. “Oh noo, I’m sorry.”

He throws you a look over his shoulder one can only describe as bratty. Honestly you’re not sure what you’re even apologizing for, but it got his attention. You quickly rise from the couch, and Levi, quick to save literal face, does it again. You get down and there in front of the armchair.

“I didn’t see anything, swear, so why do you ignore me, hm?”

After a beat, he compromises with a cool look, accepting defeat.

You just smile. “I'd do the same thing, but I know you’d catch me.”

“I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. “I’d pretend I didn’t notice. I’d know you like lookin' at me."

Your eyes soften. You're done giving him a hard time, you decide, and lean forward. He seems content to be haphazardly leaned on like a wall (making it even more apparent that his bad attitude was a bluff).

You kiss his cheek. “I definitely didn’t notice. I randomly find you so much cuter now for some reason.”

“Cheeky brat,” he mutters, catching the nape of your neck and pulling you in.

| more Levi |

[missmarveledsblog]

It's fate part two ( Bradley bradshaw x reader)

summary : bradley can't stay away and well jake soon finds out leading to a blow up game of dogfight football

warning: none its still goofy fun well one fight but other than that it's fluff

previous part

Never had he been sure of anything then fact was he sitting across from his future wife. From the way she laughed to smile , how she animatedly told him of the different kids in her class and how each was a character in their own right . he imagine would she talk like that about their kid albeit he was getting a little ahead  since he hadn’t even asked her on the first date nor did her brother his fellow aviator and well close friend he was even talking to her in the first place .  yet in that moment i wasn’t on his mind , jake wasn’t on his mind as he sat in the cafe on what was the third time he was meeting with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. 

“ i’ve not let you get a word in have i ?” she chuckled looking up as she took a bite of her brownie . 

“ seriously talk away it amazing to hear about little katie and her overcoming the sandpit but i do wanna know if little zack got his dog cat yet?” he smiled almost dreamily as she laughed  the way her head fell back and the way the sound literally warmed his insides better then any coffee he’s drank so far taking full advantage of his weekend off  not caring to go to the beach  or beat jake in dog tag football like he usually is no bradley is content with sitting in a cafe listening about kids he never even saw . so lost in her not even the buzzing on his own phone snapped this spell she had on him till her own went off . 

“ sorry let me take this” she smiled before bringing it up to her ear. “ hey idiot … yeah i can come and bradley can bring me  .. what he’s here with me know  yeah jake we will be there soon” she rolled her eyes before hanging up . “ my dumb brother wants us to meet him at the beach something about some game” she shrugged as bradley came crashing back to earth. 

“ yeah sure  lets go i’ll follow you” he smiled as took got ready to leave watching as she walked out. “ well i guess i’ll see my parent quicker than i thought i would “ he sighed  leaving a tip on table  before slowly heading to what was going to be his doom . 

From the look on jake seresins face when they arrive on the beach well doom was the right and accurate world to describe the following . 

“ I’ll sit with little seresin ..hey i’m natasha you can call me nat”  phoenix smiled really not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of what was about to come as Mav called the two captains to only be jake and bradley . 

“ i told you she’s off limits chicken “ jake glared getting in position . 

“ i told you it’s fate bagman “ rooster almost copied as the two glared it didn’t matter who was on side no this was between them two and them alone in this game .  the moment javy passed the ball throwing it to bob who ultimately tried to throw it back to jake only for fanboy to intercept and throw it to payback then in turn threw it too rooster .  well with who he was determined to impress stood on side lines rooster ran playing probably the best he had since he ever came across the game . 

“ 1 point to roosters team “ Mav called as y/n cheered making her brother pissed off . 

 Throughout the game both men done whatever in their power knocking each other over diving and dotting  til the scores where tied both panting and glaring at each other as their teammates honestly was happy to call it a tie . 

“ is it usually this … violent” y/n asked nat worried for both men . 

“ well there a more push rate here” nat winced instantly catching her on to what it  was . 

Once she watched as the two began head to head like to bulls charging til it was no longer just pushing and well fist started fly sending the men over pull them apart both men yelling at mav with bruise cheeks and egos and she walked closer. 

“ he’s dating my sister” 

“ it’s not a date …yet she’s an adult asshat” .

“ a girl really grow hell up both of you” mav rolled his eyes as the two began shouting back and forth . 

“ sorry sir may i try  “ she smiled sweetly up all doe eyes and sugarly sweet . 

“ i’m willing to try anything kid knock yourself out “ now what mav didn’t expect was the loud whistle  that shut the boys up or the fast she grab both of the men by the ear . 

“ now y’all gonna talk like adults or am going to show you how we treat misbehaving children  “ she looked between the two sternly as they instantly shut up . 

“ you can’t date rooster , one he’s old as hell and two he’s my friend” jake huffed. 

“ jakey buddy you have slept with  i could easily name five of my friends and another five co workers   another think if i wanna sleep with or date someone i will choose myself i am adult seem more of an adult then you” she crouched. 

“ i said that , i’m not old as hell ” rooster spoke up . 

“ and you well goading my brother and hitting him ain’t gonna happen again because idiot or not i kinda love him is that clear “ she  stood as he gulped and nodded. “ now  shake hands and grow up because i will give that man my number and jake can tell you how my mama kept his ass in straight line” she stomped over to Mav. 

“ sorry chicken “ jake grumbled. 

“ sorry bagman” . 

“ like you mean it jesus “ she rolled her eyes . 

“ sorry bradley .. shit maybe if she dates you  be less well that” .

“ sorry jake … dude i might marry you sister today” . 

“ you can take me on a date first bradley brooster radley “ she chuckled gathering her things. 

“ have you ever thought of joining the navy?” Mav asked shocked at the scene before him . 

“Oh and bradley pick me up at 7 “ was all she said before she headed up the beach . 

“ yessss ma’am… my wife is so pretty” he sighed happily . 

“ you aint married her yet” jake chuckled 

“ i’m gonna i’m telling you its’ ….” 

“ Fate “ the all groaned . 

Now as first date would be, he was never a ball of emotions as he was now almost pacing a hole in jake seresins floor as he waiting for her to get ready . 

“ really man i’ll lose my deposit you keep that up “ the blonde huffed eyes on the game that played on his television . 

“ sorry my nerves are gonna dent your income man i’m freaking out and all while in the chicks living room in front of you “. 

“ man where was confidence from earlier look for some weird reason she really likes you so i’m pretty sure even you couldn’t screw this up “

“ yeah thanks for the shiner really what my outfit needed “ he grumbled . 

“  you ready” she called and god she almost knocked him on his ass as he took in the sight of her man she could wear a potato sack and still look like a queen . the white sun dress hit her thighs or the red lips that paired well with her nails like something straight out of his fantasy . 

“ yeah .. yup ..yes.. Lets go “ he sighed ignoring the weird look jake was giving him or the way she was hiding her amusement . 

“ home by midnight” jake called . 

“ i’ll be home whenever i want to” she called back as door shut .

“ jesus he really is gonna be my brother in law” the blonde groaned .

part three

[troublesomesnitch]

Abraham (Grantchester) x Reader

Inspired by Ewanmitchellcrumb's amazing Abraham fics, in particular this one.

Contents: smut. first kiss, making out, dry humping, handjob. Porn without plot (and porn without penetration).

Warnings: arranged marriage, oldfashioned gender roles and attitudes towards sex and marriage. Abraham being dickish (but he's trying to be nicer)

Words: 3600

Purity culture and dry humping, name a more iconic duo, i'll wait.

-

The rain is beating hard against the tin roof.

You are huddled up against the wall, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs to keep warm. You had gone out for an afternoon walk to find some peace and quiet, and maybe pick some of the first little spring flowers, when you were suddenly caught in a torrential downpour. Not too keen on the idea of sprinting all the way home, you scrambled to take shelter in the first place you could think of: a dilapidated shed at the edge of a muddy field. The old farmer used to store tools and machinery there, but now it stands abandoned and in disrepair, full of cobwebs and mouse droppings.

If one was alone it might be quite an unnerving place, located as it is right on the border of the woods.

But you are not alone.

Abraham is sitting right across from you, dressed in his usual plaid jacket and red neckerchief, his long legs stretched out on the floor. When you stumbled inside he was already there, having sought shelter from the rain himself.

You only narrowly managed to convince him to stay.

As a young, unmarried girl, you are not supposed to be alone with men. Not even with Abraham - especially not with Abraham. The two of you will be getting married in just over a month, but the rules of courtship are strict, and every minute you spend with him must be chaperoned. Something that he has, surprisingly, taken very seriously. Maybe because his first attempt at an engagement didn't exactly work out as planned.

Still, your parents are satisfied with the match, and for the most part, you are too. Abraham is quite handsome, you think, with those splendid blue eyes, and he's just a few years older than you. A little rough around the edges, but he doesn't mind hard work, and he is good with children and animals, and those are fine qualities in a man.

Sometimes, he lets you sit and watch while he cares for his horses; cleans their stalls and their hooves, brushes their coats, takes them out to the pasture for excercise. He speaks so calmly to them, firm voice when they disobey him and soft when they are skittish or scared, and there is something so endearing about it. You wonder if he will speak to you in the same way once you're married. Harsh when you disappoint him, but gentle when he lies on top of you at night. You'd like that, you think.

Right now, Abraham doesn't speak to you at all. It is not too out the ordinary, as he isn't particularly talkative in the first place, but you had hoped that being alone with you might loosen him up a little. Instead, it seems to have had the opposite effect, and for the past twenty minutes or so, he has occupied himself with throwing pebbles and broken bits of plaster at a glass jar on the floor.

Not the most riveting pastime - but it does give you an idea.

"How about we make a game of it" you suggest, when the silence has become so deafening you can hardly bear it. "Best of five. If you win, I'll bring you lunch tomorrow - anything you want."

"Yea?" Abraham hums, looking up and right at you, clearly intrigued.

"And If I win - " you pause, a deep scarlet blush creeping up your neck. "If I win, I want a kiss".

"No" he says, right away and with a stern expression, his mouth forming a thin line.

"Just one -"

"No" he repeats, but it's a little softer this time, and he gives you a cocky half-smile. "You'll get one soon enough, don't you worry about that".

"But I won't win" you try. "You know I won't. Or" - you eye him teasingly- "do you really think you might loose to a girl?"

It's the same argument you would use against your little brother, and when Abraham's face settles into something very offended, you can hardly believe it actually worked. But all boys are the same apparently, even when they're grown men. Always have something to prove to the world and themselves and each other.

"I win - " he grumbles, "you bring lunch every day, rest of the week. And your mum's cider."

It's Wednesday today. Four days isn't a lot, you can manage that. There's not much cider left, but Mum will understand, she'll be happy to know that you're taking good care of your soon-to-be husband.

"Alright then" you nod. "You go first."

The odds are against you, because Abraham has had plenty of time to practice already, something you forgot to consider when you issued the challenge. But you are determined put up a good fight, not only because you ache to know what kissing is like, but also because you want to know what Abraham is like. If he's rough or gentle. If he's a passionate lover, or someone who just wants you to lie still and be quiet when he performs his marital duties.

As expected, his first stone goes straight into the glass; yours unfortunately bounces off the side of it. But then Abraham narrowly misses his second one, while yours actually hits the intended target. It gives you at least a glimmer of hope.

And then, something happens. Something very strange.

Abraham picks a rather large stone, but he overshoots by just a little and it lands on the dusty floor.

And the next one does too. And the one after that.

It must be on purpose, it must be. But his face betrays nothing at all, only the same disgruntled expression he always wears, and soon there's only one pebble left. Your very last one, and it lands in the glass with a loud plink.

"I won" you state, in complete disbelief, and the corners of Abraham's mouth twitch up a little.

"Looks like it, yea"

You eye him with suspicion. "But you hit - you got four in a row just before we started -".

"Beginner's luck" he shrugs, rising to his feet and brushing his hands on his trousers. When you hesitate, he cocks his head. "C'mere".

You do not need to be told twice, instantly flitting to his side and tilting up your face like you've seen ladies do in the movies. Abraham breathes deeply, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer. He smells nice, like fresh rain and firewood and a little bit like damp wool. You close your eyes.

"You ever kissed a man before?" he murmurs, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face.

You shake your head - of course you haven't.

There's no response to that, only calloused hands touching your face, Abraham's nose brushing your temple. He bends his head, and when he presses his lips to yours, you are not prepared for how soft they are, and how warm, and how gentle. His mouth opens slightly, his tongue slipping just past your lips, and then he releases your face and pulls back.

"There" he mutters, but you are not ready to part from him yet. Your hands cling to his jacket and your eyes are heavy and hooded when they flutter open.

"Again" you breathe.

He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, you are absolutely not allowed to do such things before the wedding. But Abraham is a young man, and since your engagement was officially agreed upon, he has surprisingly managed to stay out of trouble - mostly, at least - and away from neglected young housewives and the reverend's shapely daughters. It has been... a while since he last touched a girl, and you are the prettiest little thing, with your wet, parted lips and your hair frizzed from the rain. How could he possibly resist when you're looking up at him like that, begging for more?

Your first kiss was sweet and demure, but this time, Abraham wraps both arms around your waist and runs his hands up your back. He nibbles at your lower lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth, deeper this time, so he can brush it against your own. When you mewl it goes straight to his crotch, and he deepens the kiss, tilting your head to the side with a finger under your chin.

You mustn't, you shouldn't, you can't, but your body is burning with want, and you think Abraham's must be too. He's holding you closer, letting his hands wander over your body, your hips, your waist, the small of your back. They move to squeeze your bottom, and when he pushes his hips forward, there's something hard poking at your stomach.

It sends a jolt of excitement down your spine.

In theory, you know what a man looks like under his clothes. The men work outside in the summer, and many take off their shirts and roll up the legs of their trousers in the heat. But you have never seen a man fully naked, and you have never felt a man's body pressed up against you like this. Abraham's chest is hard, and his shoulders are broad, and his arms feel so strong when they're wrapped around you. He moves to kiss just below your ear, and you take the opportunity to let your hands roam tentatively over his chest and his stomach, even reaching under his jacket to feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

It's nice, but it isn't enough to satisfy your curiosity. You want to touch him there.

Abraham breaks the kiss when he feels your hand inching towards his crotch, but he doesn't stop you. Just looks at you stunned, with darkened eyes and a slight flush across his handsome nose. His... his - cock is straining in his pants, and you brush your fingers over the bulge, feeling how he hardens even more at your touch. It is clumsy and inexperienced, but Abraham still closes his eyes, and his hand comes down to cover yours and press it harder against him.

It feels good for him, despite your lack of practice; you can tell. You cup his crotch, and he lets out a sharp breath and bucks right into your palm. You tilt your face up again to kiss along his jaw as you rub him through his trousers, feeling how he swells and throbs from your touch, until he suddenly swats your hand away.

You worry that you have overstepped, or done something that hurt him, but he leans over you, and tugs at your hips - to pull you down with him, you realise. Right down to the floor, although he is at least gallant enough to shrug of his jacket and lay you on that, rather than directly on the ground.

Immediately, he starts on the buttons of your coat, almost ripping the garment open to part it from your chest. His hands greedily palm your breasts, covered only by your dress and the brassiere underneath, and he squeezes your flesh; pinches your nipples through the fabric and rolls them under his thumbs. They stiffen from his touch and he leans over you and brushes his mouth against your chest, even latching onto one pert nipple, sucking and biting until your dress is wet from his spit.

It makes you whine with both pleasure and pain, and surprise too. You have never been touched like this before, never felt wanted like this before. Abraham's eyes are dark with lust, and it is almost frightening how determined he looks when he hooks a hand under each of your knees to push them apart.

You gasp when he lays over you. His body is warm, and heavy, and it feels so right to lie like this underneath him, caged in by his arms and with your thighs spread wide around his hips. His cock is big and hard and he presses the thick bulge between your legs, and grunts softly at the feeling. You can't help but wonder how many girls have been underneath him before, because he's so unabashed in the way he pushes his hips against yours, so eager when he starts rocking back and forth, clearly mimicking... other things.

Your hands cling to his shirt and you arch up to kiss him again, sighing when catches your lip between his teeth. They don't kiss like this in the movies. At least not in the ones you have seen. Your mouth is wide open, and Abraham is absolutely devouring it, licking your lips, shoving his tongue all the way to the back of your throat. It is rough and needy, and there's a trail of spit between you when he pulls back to catch his breath.

If someone found out, you'd be in so much trouble. Abraham is on you, and his cock is stiff, and he is moving so intimately against you, but you can't bring yourself to stop him. It feels wonderful, having his weight on top of you, having his hard cock pressed against your center. His bulge is big and hard and heavy between your thighs, and he's groaning as he rubs it against you, rolling his hips steadily, rhythmically. As though he was really inside you, and you are not sure if it's on purpose or pure instinct, or maybe a bit of both.

It has you swooning, just thinking about it. How badly he must want you, how needy he must feel, his cock all hard and swollen and his balls so full of his - his come. The thought of it makes you sigh, makes you feel soaking wet, makes that tingling warmth spread even faster in your loins. There are so many things are happening in your body; the kissing, the rubbing, the pressure between your legs - God you've never felt anything like it. You squirm underneath him and spread your thighs wider.

it makes Abraham groan, your hands on his chest and the way your hips are bucking and circling against his cock, and fuck he'll go crazy if you keep making those noises, those soft little whimpers. His cock is pulsing and his balls are pulled tight, and seeing your face all twisted with pleasure has him leaking already.

Truthfully, it was Pal's idea that he should pursue you, just like it was Pal who first spoke to your father on his behalf - but as you are a sweet and pretty girl, Abraham could see no reason why he shouldn't go along with it. He is a grown man, and a grown man needs a wife, and he likes looking at your legs when you help your mother with the laundry. Especially when you wear that grey dress that is a little too tight around your hips. Once you're married he will buy you a brand new one, and a nice pair of shoes with a little heel, and you'll be such a pretty little wife, cooking his meals and washing his clothes and giving him kisses when he comes home.

He moves faster, pressing his hard bulge even tighter against you, and you can feel something building in your body, though you are only barely aware of what it is. Your muscles are tightening and tensing up, desperate for a release that you instinctively know how to find, and you arch your hips up and rub frantically against Abraham's cock. You need more, more friction, more pressure just there, and you hook a leg over his back so you can push up better. Abraham lets you chase your peak, even helps you along by sliding his hand underneath your bottom to press you tighter against him. He is utterly mesmerised by the sight, your blissful expression as you shamelessly use his body for your own pleasure, sighing and whimpering and grinding your little cunt so desperately against him.

When he kisses you again, all the tension breaks.

You gasp, and Abraham watches you intently as a series of tiny little shivers run through your body. A very gentle climax - your first, by the looks of it. You writhe and moan beneath him, and when the waves of your orgasm settle, you are all blushed and looking up at him with glazed, love-struck eyes.

He could probably coax you into sleeping with him right now if he wanted to, but in a - frankly rare - moment of chivalry, he decides against it. You're a sweet girl, saving yourself for marriage and all. Your first time should be somewhere nicer than in this cold, filthy shed.

One way or another though, he will make you finish him off properly, and he sits back on his heels and quickly unbuckles his belt. Abraham's cock is impressive in size, and he is very proud of it; always enjoys the look of amazement on a girl's face when he frees it from his trousers.

You look equal parts intrigued and horrified. It is much bigger than you had anticipated, long, pink and bulbous at the tip, and he boldly gives it a few quick tugs as you watch. Even in his hand it looks massive, and you wonder how on earth it'll ever fit inside you, but that is an issue for another day, because Abraham mutters here and reaches for your hand. Your fingers wrap cautiously around his shaft, and it is hard, stiff, and yet so soft at the same time. You have no idea what to do, but Abraham's hand closes over yours, guiding the strength of your grip and the pace of your strokes.

It turns out that pleasing a man is not difficult at all. All you have to do is move your hand up and down, dragging the skin over the tip of his cock and back down again in a quick and firm rhythm. Abraham dips his head into the crook of your neck, and his hands come up to fondle your breasts, his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut. You quickly grow more comfortable with the motion, and you slip your other hand between his legs to fondle his balls too - carefully, as you know that is a very delicate area for a man. They feel big, and hairy, and heavy in your hand, and he moans when you squeeze them lightly, trying your best to massage them in a way that gives him pleasure.

It would seem that you succeed, because it isn't long before Abraham's body tenses and his balls tighten right in your grip.

" - gonna come" he grunts, and you can't help but hold your breath in anticipation.

Abraham groans, and his cock pulses in your hand, and then his semen starts spurting from the tip. There's so much of it, spilling all over your fingers in thick, sticky ropes, and you keep stroking him through his peak, taking in his ragged breaths, the shallow jerks of his hips, the deep furrow of his brow. It is the loveliest thing you've ever laid eyes on, and when he stills your hand and collapses next to you on the floor, your chest swells with pride. You made him do that.

"Fuck" he pants. There's a lock of hair sticking to his forehead, and you are dying to reach over and gently brush it back, but you are too shy to be so familiar.

"Was it good?" you ask instead, hoping for praise or maybe a nice compliment, but Abraham just gives a hoarse laugh as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. You look away. Despite what you did just a moment ago, looking at it now feels terribly indecent.

Outside, the rain has stopped, the wind has died down, and it is high time for you to return home. You wipe your hand clean with a handkerchief - you can rinse it in the stream on the way back - and turn away from him as you smooth out your skirt and button your coat.

"What do you want" Abraham asks suddenly. "For your wedding gift. What do you want?"

Immediately, you start going through all the lists in your head - there are a hundred things to consider when setting up a new household, clothes and dishware and furnishing, and the little hope chest under your bed is already filled to the brim.

"Well-" you begin, "I'll get linens from my mother, and you already have the stove sorted, and Cora said we could have her old cast iron skillet, but we should probably start saving for a -"

"No" he interrupts, impatiently. "Forget all that, what do you want from me"

He looks sheepish and uncomfortable and it takes you a moment to realise that he is trying to be attentive - maybe even romantic.

It makes you want to throw your arms around his neck.

"I don't know" you mutter, blushing all over again. "I haven't thought about it - you don't have to give me anything"

"I'll get you something. Something pretty, yea?" he grins, wide enough that his cheeks crease and dimple - God, he's awfully charming sometimes, when he wants to be.

You blush even deeper, picking at your nails and responding with an awkward yes, yeah alright.

Abraham doesn't say anything after that, already back to his usual sullen demeanor - but right before the door closes behind you, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you back to kiss you right on the mouth.

You make your way back home, warm all over from the kiss and the excitement and the lingering heat in your core. And maybe a little bit just from the very thought of Abraham himself.

I have never posted fics to tumblr before, please let me know if there's anything wrong with it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if you already wrote about this so forgive me if this is a repeat question but, what do you think about Leona’s depression? I feel it’s pretty obvious in game and yet it’s always glossed over as him being ‘lazy’ idk but I don’t find many talking about his really shitty mental health with any seriousness.

Surprisingly I haven't addressed this (at least not in detail)! So thank you for bringing this to my attention; I definitely feel like I've heard people (especially Leona fans) discuss this quite frequently. If you look in the right places, you’re sure to find insightful commentary on the subject! I know I certainly have, but I've yet to say my own piece on it yet.

Now, before I actually get to actually rambling, I want to preface this post with a few points so we can walk in knowing the perspective I'm coming from. Analysis isn't a "one size fits all"! My experiences and background will color the lenses through which I view Leona’s mental health.

First and foremost, I usually don't go out of my way to claim, "this character has X condition" beyond what is outright stated or implied in canon. That does NOT mean that I disapprove of fans who may have their headcanons that say otherwise or project onto or relate to characters' mental health. You can consume the media you like however you want! I am just saying that I don't have this preference so I feel somewhat uncomfortable speaking on this matter.

Secondly, I am trying to approach this situation from a very clinical viewpoint (as I do have knowledge in this area). This means that when I look for “implications” or read between the lines, I am doing so as objectively as I can. It’s how I choose to process and understand characters from a health angle. This does not mean that my opinion is certain; you could very well find someone else in this area that gives you the opposite opinion. As always, I warn you that my response is for fun, it is NOT meant to be taken as medical advice.

Lastly, PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST before you comment or share your own thoughts. I'm up for having a discussion, but I ask that you not do so without getting the full context of my thoughts. It’s a lot of information, and I did my best to break it down in a way that (I hope!!) is easy to understand.

CONTENT WARNING: due to the nature of the question at hand, I will be discussing or mentioning potentially triggering topics such as ***depression, suicidal ideation, dieting, homophobia, and substance abuse.*** Please look away if you are not in the right headspace to read about such topics.

Okay, let's rip the band-aid off now: I don't think Leona is clinically depressed.

Pause. Rewind. Take note of my careful wording there: clinically depressed. I don't think Leona is clinically depressed. What does that mean, and how does that relate to "being depressed"?

I think when people describe Leona as "depressed", they commonly mean that he "has depression", not that he is just feeling sad or has low self-esteem. By "having depression", I'm going to assume they are referring to "major depressive disorder", which is the technical term for the condition.

"It's just an abbreviation of the longer term. What's the issue with using 'depression'?” you're probably wondering. “You understand that we mean major depressive disorder.” Well, equating the two does NOT a diagnosis make.

Mental conditions such as major depressive disorder are documented in a handbook known as the DSM (or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). The latest version, the DSM-5-TR (5th edition with text revisions), was published in 2022. The DSM is a manual that sets forth criteria for each diagnosis in its pages. Of course, this includes major depressive disorder—and it may surprise you to learn that Leona does not meet its diagnostic criteria.

A diagnosis of "depression" (the term I will henceforth be using as shorthand for the disorder) is much more than having persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, being unmotivated/lazy, and wanting to sleep often. (I bring up these three things specifically because they are the ones I see being pointed at most frequently to “prove” the diagnosis.)

In order to be formally diagnosed, an individual must be experiencing at least 5 or more of the following symptoms during the same 2-week period:

Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.

Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.

A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).

Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.

Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.

Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.

Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.

At least one of the symptoms should be either 1) depressed mood or 2) loss of interest or pleasure in activities they previously found enjoyable. Furthermore, the symptoms must cause what is known as "clinically significant distress", which is defined by impairment in important areas of functioning. This includes, but is not limited to, socialization, occupation, and/or education. The symptoms must also not be the result of substance abuse or another medical condition, and the individual must ever have experienced mania or hypomania.

Let’s briefly go through each criterion + additional documents and see what evidence there is or isn’t to support it:

We do not have his medical records to cross reference, so for the sake of convenience let’s assume no underlying or additional medical conditions.

We must consider additional context about family, lifestyle, etc. which can confound his symptoms. For example, as a prince, Leona has grown up having most things done for him by servants. This is what he is used to. So when we observe Leona not doing basic things for himself (getting food, doing laundry, making his bed), how much of this can we truly attribute to an underlying condition and how much of this can we attribute to Leona being accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle?

Leona (at least from what we know of) does not experience mania, nor is he depicted as taking mind or behavior altering substances.

Of the first two criteria, Leona must fit into one: either 1) depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, or 2) markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day. These depend on how you interpret his actions and behaviors. Personally, I don’t think Leona strongly fits into 2 because he still has an interest in his hobbies like Magift/Spelldrive and playing chess (though his involvement in it varies depending on the context). I will concede that there is stronger evidence for 1 over 2, as Leona has definitely expressed sadness and despair regarding himself and his future prospects. It is these thoughts that drive him away from home and keep contact with his family at a minimum. It is these thoughts that prevent him from seeing himself as worthy or even capable of change—a sentiment he shares in book 6, when he encourages Jamil but does not grant himself the same kindness or optimism. For this reason, we will go with the first criterion.

He has not experienced notable weight loss nor gain, nor a notable increase or decrease in appetite. Regarding his general diet, Leona has expressed a preference for meat and rejects vegetables. This by itself does not really provide any useful information in of itself; many people have this preference.

Leona does not experience a slowing down of thought. He is still very sharp and quick-witted in responding to his surroundings, especially in potentially dangerous ones, and coming up with an appropriate plan to counter. It can be argued that Leona has had a reduction in physical movement, as many characters often make remarks about how they perceive him as lazy or not doing much. However, this criterion actually refers to the speed at which one completes an activity and as far as I know, Leona is not said to be moving sluggishly, he only conducts himself in a manner that can be described as "lazily elegant". Even if we stretched the definition to encompass long-term goals he is putting off (like graduation), this criteria is still not counted for Leona since the wording used in the DSM-5-TR states “slowing down of thought AND reduction in physical movement” must be present. In other words, both must be true, not just one of them.

Leona does seem to experience some level of fatigue or loss of energy. This could be one way of interpreting his desire to sleep excessively instead of tending to more meaningful matters (like class). Fatigue, in this case, can also refer to emotional or mental fatigue. The sleep, then, can serve as a means of escape from reality for Leona, but it does not indicate actual physical tiredness. Rather, the tiredness can be intangible. This is also a potential explanation for his lack of motivation when it comes to some activities, especially those that demand him to take charge.

Leona does appear to experience feelings of worthlessness, though perhaps not excessive or inappropriate guilt. In fact, I would wager Leona does not demonstrate the latter, although this could be attributed to the fact that we are not in his head and he does not open up to others about his feelings. For example, we still don't know what his feelings are on almost killing Ruggie in a fit of rage. This does not discredit this criterion though, as the wording in the DSM is “feelings of worthlessness OR […] guilt” meaning one or the other suffices. It is no secret that Leona seeks recognition for his skills—something he was denied as a child and even put down for. While he is aware of his strengths, he has moments when he doubts himself (stating that he can’t change, or giving up when he realizes his plans won’t work so what’s the point in trying?), the contributions he can make (even when his older brother reassures him he can help their country), and encouragement from others (Jack telling him his play inspired him).

As I've said before, Leona does not have a diminished ability to think or concentrate. It has been shown to us time and time again that he doesn't do schoolwork not for lack of trying or lack of understanding, but because he thinks of himself as above it. Leona has already been tutored by the finest teachers royal money can buy, so he believes there is not much else for him to learn. He is also not shown to be indecisive--he can make decisions very quickly and can guide others or at least convince them to go along with him.

Leona does not have suicidal ideation or have recurring thoughts of committing suicide/death. While it's true that this is a game rated for ages 4+ (and therefore has restrictions on what content is and is not allowed in it), TWST has demonstrated to us that there are ways to imply suicidal ideation and other dark themes without explicitly saying it. (One notable example is Idia in late book 6, where he drops lines like "I'll go with you" and expresses dissatisfaction with "this world" to Ortho, who is known to be dead. To this, Ortho reassures him and encourages him to keep living. In fact, I could go on a whole tangent about how Idia better fits the criteria for major depressive disorder, but we're not going to get into that here.) The fact that TWST does not really imply this about Leona makes me think this is not true of him.

It can be said that the symptoms Leona does have are clinically significant, as his behavior is shown to have significant impact on his studies to the point where he was held back a grade. This was not because he did not know the material, but because he failed to find the motivation to attend class and to do his assignments. It also appears that Leona didn't really make an effort to work toward his future until book 7, when he actually talks his internship plans and about wanting to graduate.

We may guess that the symptoms persisted for two weeks or more (given Leona’s history and involvement in the main story), but the frequency of the symptoms is unclear since the game controls what we see of Leona and what we don’t.

Taking all of that into consideration, Leona does in fact exhibit depressive symptoms, but only 3 at most (I say “at most” because we have no idea about the true frequency at which some behaviors occur; we aren’t with Leona 24/7, nor has he reported it to us) out of the 8 total criteria. That’s 2 short of a diagnosis.

“But wait, there’s a lot of information missing here! We don’t have medical records, his weight and appetite changes, etc.” That’s true—but see, the main issue I take with diagnosing fictional characters in the first place is that we oftentimes do not know a character in detail enough to understand the full scope of their lives and symptoms. Noticing a few details is one thing and valid to an extent, but to evaluate an individual is not purely observational. This is particularly true for TWST characters, as even though there is plenty of content to refer back to for behavior, there is still a lack of really going into daily activities or deep feelings (beyond the one post-OB flashback for the OB boys). We cannot observe their behavior extensively. Because of this, tons of key criteria may not be visible to us from the audience’s perspective, let alone a medical history or other data to consider for assessment. We will almost always have an incomplete profile of a fictional character. Health is holistic and not entirely based on what we as individuals see or on all anecdotal evidence.

Just as health considers all parts of the individual, we, too, must consider individual cases of depression. It is possible for depression to exist without a diagnosis—many people (especially older adults), unfortunately, go undiagnosed for their condition. At the same time, it is possible for Leona to have depression which manifests in an atypical way. Each person with depression presents differently than the last, so I so not intend to make any blanket statements about the general population with this condition. The only statement I am making here is that based on my own interpretation of the current lore TWST has granted is, Leona Kingscholar does not satisfy the criteria for a formal clinical diagnosis, at least not for major depressive disorder as is defined by the DSM-5-TR.

Interestingly, Leona does fit the diagnostic criteria for a subclinical form of depression in a 1994 version of the DSM (IV). Minor depression or minor depressive disorder, colloquially known as “everyday depression”, is defined as having 2–4 depressive symptoms persisting for more than 2 weeks. One of these symptoms must be either depressed mood or loss of interest. It should be noted that this terminology is no longer recognized, as new information is added and dropped from the manual all the time. The information is flexible based on the consensus of a panel of hundreds of experts. Older versions of the DSM can be horribly outdated and it is not advised to reference them over newer ones. (As an example, "homosexuality" was legitimately listed as a mental illness in the very first version of the DSM. Yikes. Thankfully, this was dropped from the DSM-II. Other conditions like "multiple personality disorder" are granted new names like "dissociative identity disorder" or reworked altogether as our studies and understanding of mental health and science improve. It is important to keep up with the research coming out and update our approaches accordingly.)

We do not currently have a label for Leona’s situation aside from perhaps experiencing depressive episodes (periods of notable sadness lasting under 2 weeks) and exhibiting some depressive symptoms. I must stress that just because we lack a full-blown diagnosis, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact his life. Leona is shown to very clearly be struggling with his mental health. He spends a lot of time in bed, typically cannot be motivated to attend class or do complete assignments, and has moments where he thinks very lowly of himself in spite of the confidence he exudes to others. What's more is that because Leona does not speak to others about what he's going through, it comes off as laziness or arrogance to his peers. Think of it this way: if you have a bad day and snap at a stranger or an acquaintance, the stranger/acquaintance is far less likely to grant you grace or forgiveness for your behavior compared to, say, a friend. They are not as familiar with you, so they will have less patience and are less likely to consider what you may be going through on a personal level. This also applies on a fandom level; if a fan is not actively reading between the lines, they, like Leona's peers, may miss the depressive symptoms he is displaying because they aren't looking for it. How many people can we say are close friends with Leona for him to open up to them about his circumstances? I would say Leona barely even lets his own dorm members be intimate enough with him to let them know about this part of himself. He has Savanaclaw backing him, but he probably does not talk to the mobs extensively. Ruggie is his errand boy, but I doubt Leona pours his heart out to him. And Jack is the newbie who did technically betray their dorm, so Leona might not trust him. Forget about people beyond his dorm. Even his family is not much better off; we've seen that Leona tends to brush off his brother's friendliness and attempts to make amends. There is no strong support system in place for him, which is tricky because Leona perpetuates it by keeping others at bay. In the light novel adaptation of book 2, Leona has an inner monologue about how he is afraid of letting others give him hope because it will encourage him to try again, only to fail another time. I imagine similar logic applies here; he is afraid of showing his vulnerable side because it might give him hope for change when he as late as book 6 expresses that he has given up on himself. I think that this is the detail about Leona most look to when they consider his mental health. The hallmark of depression is, after all, the feeling of perpetual sadness and despair itself. Most do not realize that other factors are considered.

From a clinical lens, it is not “obvious" that Leona is depressed. However, I understand why the prevailing sentiment tends to skew in the opposite direction. For the layman, it may be difficult to distinguish what is and is not clinically significant enough to warrant an actual diagnosis. Again, most will cite the same three pieces of information to support the depression reading: Leona's irritability, his unwillingness to participate, and the rejection he experienced as a child (which has now manifested as self-doubt and low self-esteem). Characters are often judged based on fans' own experiences, and this naturally comes with biases and subjectivity. Thus, some fans may project their own understanding or preconceived notions of what the "typical" depressed person acts like in their head onto Leona. This is normal human empathy at play. I believe that other fans see depression in Leona either because they experience it themselves or are familiar with someone in the same shoes. It can be difficult, and at times we can find solace and solidarity in fiction, especially if we find a character that “speaks to us” and seems relatable. That character may be Leona for some people. If you see do see him in this light or relate to his situation, I’m not invalidating your feelings. On the contrary, I'm happy that you were able to find comfort in him and that a piece of media you love can serve as a coping mechanism. You keep on doing you!

It is at this point that I will reiterate what I said at the start with a little extra nuance: I do not think Leona clinically depressed BUT I do believe he has depressive symptoms and poor mental health as the result of his cumulative circumstances. It is possible for him to have major depressive disorder, but we cannot determine this for certain with the information available to us right now. We are still missing several key components that would typically be considered in the evaluation process.

I think it's important to step back from focusing on labels and instead focus on the individual experience, and how you can still grow as a person and not let a perceived label define you. Leona is definitely working on himself! Changing, particularly changing a deeply ingrained mindset, takes much time and effort. We may not see the progress since Leona tends to hide it and/or we have limited intractions with him. We may not always see giant strides because the process is difficult. Even so, Leona is trying to jump over those mental and emotional hurdles. He's putting his all back into Magift/Spelldrive training. He's attending classes and doing the assignments. He's going home for the holidays. He has an internship planned. He wants to graduate. I've enjoyed following Leona's journey of growth and self-development and seeing all the intense discussion surrounding that. It all comes from a place of love and wanting to support the characters we care about, no matter how we may individually view him.

[trancylovecraft]

(AOEX) The Blood Of An Unwilling Covenant

PART 7 OF 8: Lucifer

(Yandere Platonic Demon Kings (Ba'al) x Reader)

SERIES SUMMARY:

BARISTA'S NOTE: sECOND TO LAST PART LETS GO!!!!! GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Blue Exorcist

☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★

LAST PART ,AO3 LINK, SERIES MASTERLIST, NEXT PART

"Camera.. Check! Phone.. Check! Spare change of clothes.. Erm.."

Curtains half drawn over murky windows let light flood into the room, The early morning sun being not deterred by the soot dusting the window panes. It shone on the mess in the room, Shine rolling off ceramics and other illuminating surfaces.

Jars filled with demon bio-produce were piled up to the walls, Heavy-bound books of all sorts being just as tall. Clothes thrown everywhere, A mix of both hers and Lewins. All of it made for a gnarly sight and smell to come under.

But it was nothing compared to the current mess, If that was even possible. The old musty couch was strewn with more clothes than normal. TV still blaring some American cartoon as [F/N] paced back and forth between place to place.

She was somehow able to get around the place with relative ease. Opening up box after box stacked up top everywhere, Apartment still barely moved into.

"Heya.. You good there?" Lewin drawled as he watched [F/N] run back and forth to rummage through all the boxes in the room. Lewin himself was currently lazing upon the old burgundy couch, The one that had cushions torn and had been picked up on the side of the road by none other by the man himself.

[F/N] was almost foaming at the mouth, Even more so once she snapped her head over to him.

"Have you seen any of my clothes around here? I can't find the box with all my stuff in it- Ugh.." [F/N] winced once she drew her arm back out, A thick blue glow wrapped around it and hugging it tight with a slimy touch. A demon, And by the shape it took? No doubt a baby kraken.

Lewin, Ironically, Cracked a smile once he saw it.

"Oops, My bad!" He chuckled, Instantly raising a lazy hand to somehow shoo the demon away. "Linnaeus!"

And just as the demon had came, It had vanished at the summary of it's fatal verse. It seemed to writhe, Spasming and shaking before finally the grip around her loosened entirely. It fell, Hitting the floor as it's blue light started to flicker.

[F/N] looked at it's crumpled body, Disgust running through her features.

"Yeah, Keep your demons in their pens.. Damn it, Lew'.. This isn't the first time.." She scoffed, Pinching her brows with her now-free hand.

"Seriously.. You doin' good? I can see wrinkle lines appearing on your head." Lewin said, Gesturing to his own forehead hidden behind his mop of hair. She groaned, [F/N]'s eyes narrowing in on him.

"It's just.. I can't find my clothes and I need a separate pair in case these ones get ruined! Like I've already got my camera, A few notebooks.. Summoning papers, You know- But I still need my spare change and I can't find it for the life of me!" [F/N] exasperated, Sweat dusting her face.

"Don't you think you got enough?" Lewin said, Pointing over to the backpack sitting atop one of the heaps which so happened to be stuffed full of various items. All of which she listed, Including several other artefacts that seemed weird to where she'd be going.

"Not nearly! Since I wasn't able to go on the camping trip thing, I need to make sure I get everything right this time. It's gonna be a real big day for me!" [F/N] said as she turned back towards the boxes, Feverishly shifting through the contents once more.

Lewin grinned.

"Hah, You and me both.."

The True Cross Festival, The big day. Games, Dances, Fireworks, Food, Festivities. The event that every student in the school had been waiting for ever since they had been accepted into the institution.

Whispers of plans floated through the hallways, Excited chitters leading up to the day. God, [F/N] had been hearing it every second of the day just the week before. And now the big day was finally here.

For many it was a opportunity to ask out their crush due to the entry requirements, To others it was a time to relax and make memories. But to [F/N], It was a prime opportunity to investigate.

"Finally!" She grinned, Opening up another box to find all of her clothes packed neatly inside. Sweaters, Jeans and other types of accessories started to be yanked out of the box and into her arms.

Lewin watched as she piled another few pairs of clothing into her arms, Both for cold and hot weather and even another pair of underwear before hurriedly rushing over her bag and trying to stuff it all inside.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position on the old couch, Yawning lazily as he stretched.

"As I've said- You could really use to loose a few things in there, Ain't this suppose to be something you enjoy?" Lewin yawned once he finally stopped stretching, Staring at her from under his hair as she continued to try push the clothing into the overflowing bag.

"No- It's a way I can get more information about what's going down in there. Like the traitor and the blue night, The things we spoke about-" [F/N] said, Slightly wheezing as she tried to shove and shove everything down in there to no avail. Sweat gathering quicker on her face.

She tried once more, [F/N] pushing down the items on top.

All before she felt the arm of Lewin lightly tug at her wrist, Making her retract it quickly from her bag.

"Hey- What are you-"

"Oh yeah, Definetly overflowing.."

"Lewin- What are you doing?! Hey! Stop touching my stuff!"

"Keeping a few daggers in here? How'd you expect to get past security with all that?"

"Lewin stop it! It took ages to get everything in there! Stop it!"

"Okay, Maybe you can keep the summoning papers.."

"Thank you- HEY! That's my camera, Put it back! Put it back!"

"Aaaand, Ta-da!"

And just like that, The bag that [F/N] had so desperately tried to fill to the brim had depressed almost half it's weight before. Space now very much available inside, Only items spared being her general exorcism stuff and a few new things that Lewin had taken the liberty to throw in.

[F/N]'s jaw was as agape as her eyes, Staring into the new emptiness of her bag that Lewin had dared to meddle in.

"Lew'! Why the hell did you do that?! It took me ages to get everything in there, I need it all if I want to go snoop around in the school! You know, To help me get you evidence?!" [F/N] hissed as she placed her hands on her hips, Angrily staring up at Lewin who still had a lazy smile on his face.

He nodded, Scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, Yeah. And you've been working really hard to do that! I mean you've already helped lead me to one of the traitors, And trust me, I appreciate that a bunch.. But I think you need to calm down." Lewin said.

[F/N] frowned as she looked at him, Aghast in her eyes yet somehow still mellowing out. Just a few months ago he had specifically told her to do some digging, Now he was telling her to stop it?

[F/N] scoffed.

"But.. But wasn't this something you wanted me to do? You know, Investigate? You can't tell me to stop once I've got invested in it too!" [F/N] exclaimed, Stepping closer to him.

Ever since she had the meeting in Mephisto's office, [F/N] had became just as enthralled as Lewin was in the investigation. Ever since she had gotten that horrid feeling about him, [F/N] knew that she needed to dig in more.

Snooping around teachers rooms, Sifting through file cabinets not meant for her. She had already gotten information and passed it over to Lewin, So after all this work how could he just tell her not to go further?

Lewin sighed.

"But I also said that you should get some friends, And hey! You have with all those exwires! I'm just thinking that you spend this time bonding like you kids usually do." Lewin explained as he in turn stepped closer, The two of them now staring eye to eye.

"They're not my friends.. They're just my classmates.." [F/N] said, And even she knew it was a lie.

"Whatever you say, Ya' munchkin. Just go out and have fun, Forget about the investigation for a few hours and I promise I'll let you throw rocks at the traitor I'm about to catch later." Lewin promised, Playfully reaching out a hand with his pinkie stuck up.

[F/N] huffed, Almost about to comment on his childish behaviour before she brushed it off and wrapped a pinkie of her own around his.

"Whatever.. You better keep your promise though, I've been dying to throw rocks at someone for ages now." She pouted, Pinky finger still firmly wrapped around Lewin's own.

He grinned.

"Of course. You just go have fun, Buy me a souvenir and I'll come back and pick you up at ten, Afterwards we'll hit a burger joint and then I'll let you throw rocks at him. Sound good?" Lewin asked.

[F/N] smiled.

"Yeah.." She said, Trying not to show her grin as she shied her view away from him.

And just like that, The hand that Lewin had joined with [F/N]'s pulled her closer. And before [F/N] knew it his thick arms wrapped around her, Bringing her into a hug.

[F/N] was surprised, Muscles tensing up as she felt his head rest atop hers which was currently pushed into the side of his chest. Lewin had not often hugged her before, Never showed much affection other than playful little punches.

But here he was, Bringing her in without restraint. [F/N] barely even cared about his horrible stench, Not when a hand rested on the back of her head, Another on her back. And just maybe, She started to relax.

Only a little.

"Now go scamper outta here, You're gonna miss your bus!" Lewin laughed as he pulled away from her, The silence he had undertaken before now broken. [F/N] was still standing in slight shock, Eyes wide as she looked up at him.

She blinked, Snapping back into reality.

"R-Right!" [F/N] exclaimed, Finally catching eye of the clock on the far wall. [F/N] tried to gather her thoughts once she gathered her stuff, Grabbing her bag strap and tossing it over her shoulder.

"See you soon, Lew'!" [F/N] called out, Finally reaching the door and turning the knob as she stepped out. She waved goodbye to him and he waved back with a lazy smile, Watching as she sprinted out the door.

A yellow raincoat hanging untouched on the hanger by the door.

☆♡☆

"Hey, Guys! Over here!"

The sun was held bright in the sky, A beautiful sight with no clouds to be seen, Just pure cerulean blue.

The uproar of chatter was already in the air, Sounds of people frolicking around the newly made stalls was the only thing in earshot. Rich smells of meat sizzling and the saccharine scent of sugar was also the only thing you could smell, The festival already starting to gain traction.

"Is that [F/N]? I thought she said she wasn't coming?" Konekomaru said, Turning his head as he watched her run over to them, Smiling slightly at being proven wrong.

"Huh? Oh- I guess she changed her mind!"

The air was fresh, [F/N] could tell as it flew behind her as she pranced over to the group standing just outside the entrance to the festivities. Their figures instantly recognisable as she stuttered to a halt in front of them.

"[F/N]! Thought you said you weren't coming?" Shima exclaimed incredulously as he watched her keel over to catch a breath, Eyes wide as he looked her up and down in her sweater and jeans combo.

"Change of plans.. Turns out I can make it after all.." [F/N] wheezed as she wiped the sweat off of her brow, Lungs burning as she raised herself back up to meet the eyes of her group.

Shima, Bon and Konekomaru. The trio of her classmates stood there in their own outfits, Ready for the festival. [F/N] tried to give them the best smile she could, Trying not to make it look like she hadn't dressed like a slob compared to them.

Bon huffed, Folding his arms.

"Seriously? I thought you said that you were gonna study instead since, You know, You failed your last demonic pharmaceuticals test?" He said as he raised a brow, Looking her up and down with that all too familiar judgemental stare.

[F/N] scoffed.

"And miss all the fun? Yeah no, I came to my senses!" [F/N] laughed as she lightly punched Bon on the side of the arm, Who suppressed a smirk as he lightly shoved her back. [F/N] cackled as she stuck out her tongue at him.

Bon rolled his eyes.

"You still need to study!"

"You still need to shut the fuck up!"

"Calm down you two, You're gonna cause a scene!" Konekomaru said, Moving so he was a human-barrier between the two.

Shima shook his head, Dramatically tutting as he looked at the two.

"Yeah, Exactly! You're really killing the mood you know, How am I suppose to get with hot girls if you two are bickering the entire time in the background? I still need to find a girl to get with so I can go to the dance festival later!" Shima whined as he gestured to the crowds packed behind him, All already enjoying the activities of the festival.

"Erm, I'm a girl?" [F/N] said, Gesturing to herself.

"I said hot girls, [F/N]." Shima replied with an innocent smile.

"HEY!"

[F/N] threw an insult back at Shima, To which Shima gave a passive-aggressive response. They barely even noticed when they got dragged off into the festival, Bon groaning as he lugged both [F/N] and Shima along with him, Konekomaru trying his best to calm the two down.

Only snapped out of it once the blaring noise caught up with her, A light shove by Bon and the smell of enticing meats. Blinking once she realised she was surrounded by a crowd and hundreds of stalls that seemed to muddle on the horizon.

She gulped, Sweat running down her brow with a slight smile.

This was gonna be a long day.

☆♡☆

"Aw man.. Never thought I'd say this, But it's good to get away from all the noise.. Huh?"

The sky was dark, Coloured the deepest of ebony blues and starless with all the light below. Unlike the morning there was a noticeable chill in the air, Either due to the passing time or the new altitude which the two had reached.

That saccharine scent was still lingering in the air, Beautiful tastes of all the food she had eaten still on her tongue. It was all so overwhelming to her, Even now as she stared down at the lights of the stalls did she still feel a rush.

One thing to the next, Perpetual motion. [F/N] had moved from stall to stall, Done party game after party game, Went through every classes activity set up from the festival and had laughed and screamed all the same.

They had met with Rin at his food stall and laughed along with him, They had went through the horror house and had gotten a good laugh when she watched Shima get scared by Shiemi. Izumo too they had passed not even a few minutes ago, Still lingering close by.

They had also lost Bon and Konekomaru somewhere else in the crowd, Konekomaru most likely going to talk with his date and Bon could be just about anywhere. So now it was just Shima and her, After everything that happened..

Dizzying, [F/N] felt. She sipped on the straw of the chocolate shake and let the taste try to calm her, Still cold in her hands and dripping down moisture from the sides. It helped, If only a little bit.

"You could say that again.. I mean, How many girls did you try to ask out?" [F/N] said to Shima as she lightly strolled beside him, High above the stalls in the higher part of the city. Looking lightly over the stone balcony to all the chaos below.

"Ugh! I can't even count and I usually always make sure to remember all the pretty faces I talk to!" Shima exasperated as he dragged his feet alongside her, Seemingly just as worn out from the celebrations as she was.

[F/N] rolled her eyes, Continuing to slurp on her milkshake.

"Just how much stuff I bought on it's own..! You know, My master insisted on emptying my bag before I got here and I'm actually kinda glad he did, Otherwise I wouldn't be able to carry all this.." [F/N] sighed as she readjusted the heaving backpack weighing her down, All stuffed to the brim with all the merchandise she knew her and Lewin would like.

He had slipped his card into her backpack, Something she had found out when rummaging through it. He had trusted her enough to spend his money wisely, Or more accurately trusted her to spend as much of his six-figure salary as she possibly could.

[F/N] smiled, Quietly thanking Lewin under her breath.

"..You and Lightning close?"

"Where'd that come from?" [F/N] asked as she turned to Shima, Who seemed to look back at her with a much more curious expression under the nights sky. Shima just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno, I guess I'm just curious is all. Since you were already his apprentice before joining cram school or whatever, You two related or something?" Shima asked as they made their way towards the balcony, The one overlooking the sea of lights below and where the wind flowed openly.

[F/N] huffed as she continued to drink her milkshake, Leaning over on the stone railings to look out below.

"Not biologically, No. But you know that trope you see in movies? The dickhead older brother who always messes with your stuff and annoys you to high hell? Yeah, That's him." [F/N] said, Rolling her eyes with a slight smirk.

Shima smiled rather forlornly as he leaned over on the balcony like she did, Light reflecting in his eyes.

"Yeah, I get that." He laughed slightly.

"Ah, Okay. Cause of all your brothers, Right?" [F/N] asked as she drew her eyes off the crowds for only a moment, Just to see Shima stare right back off into it. He didn't smile, Just nodded slowly.

He didn't speak either, The smile drawn on [F/N]'s face starting to lessen at the sound of silence. Instead she just brought her eyes back over to the sea of lights, Looking at the crowds below enjoying the festivities.

[F/N] sipped on her milkshake, Tasting the chocolate on her tongue. She should have known that his brothers would've been something difficult to talk about, Ever since the trip to Kyoto she had known something was off.

Especially since the death of the eldest, [F/N] should've taken that as the first sign. She continued sipping on her milkshake, A sort of scratchiness starting to build up in her throat. Shima never really talked about his brothers, Not here nor there.

[F/N] continued to sip on her milkshake, The lights starting to become much more.. Bright. Her nose scrunched up as she turned her head up to meet Shima, Who now seemed to be looking back down at her.

He smiled, Almost awkwardly.

"..Shima, I don't feel so good." [F/N] told him as she finally removed the straw from her mouth, Looking at her milkshake with a sort of queasiness in her eyes. A lightness in her head, A new stutter when she tried to stand.

What was happening? Her fingers started to shake, The muscles much more relaxed than they were suppose to be as the milkshake fell to the floor and splattered across the rocks. She stumbled, [F/N] starting to see two of each in her vision.

Shima hummed, Watching her gait with an unconcerned gaze.

"That must be the Rophynol finally kicking in then." He replied casually as he watched her start to double over.

[F/N] raised her head weakly as she near doubled over, Stumbling back as she stared at him with wide eyes. What little gathered conscious she had left recalled that drug, As clear as day she knew what it was.

Rophynol, Otherwise known as the date-rape drug.

Causes symptoms of confusion, Dizziness, Drowsiness, Lack of coordination, Loss of motor control and slurred speech. Often used by scummy people to knock out an unwilling victim, Usually for the purpose of..

Oh,

Oh fuck.

"Get- Get.. Get away.. Away!" [F/N] tried to yell but it came out as a wheeze, Stumbling back, Almost tripping over on her own feet. It felt like the world was spinning around her, Shaking around like it was encased in a snow globe.

There was no one around to help her, Everyone was so enthralled by the entertainment below that no one dared to come up here. Everyone except her and Shima, No one else around to hear her pleads for help.

Her eyes were wild as she looked at him, Like a cornered animal ready to bite.

His was casual, Looking at her with some synthetic sympathy.

"Don't worry, It's not what you're thinking. I'm not that much of a creep! I slipped it into your shake when you weren't looking earlier, Sorry 'bout this but my boss said that I was to return with you unharmed so.. Had to get creative with how I got you and all!" Shima laughed as he scratched the back of his head, Smiling innocently as if nothing was wrong.

[F/N] wheezed.

What? What was he saying? Who was.. Who was he talking..?

Illuminati.

[F/N] couldn't.. Couldn't get.. Get away. Get away. She needed to get away, Run.. Run away. Lewin, She needed to get Lewin.. Something was.. Something..

Shima got up from his leaning position on the balcony, Slightly stretching with a small yawn as he did.

"Alright, [F/N]. I'm gonna need you to come with me now, Okay? I ain't going to hurt you, My boss would kill me if I did!" He joked as he strolled towards her almost convulsing body, Her eyes untamed and barbaric.

His hands reached out, And in that moment [F/N] cried out.

"Ah-!" Shima yelped out once he felt a slice of what felt like a knife cross his cheek, A searing pain starting to settle into his skin. Blood spurted out from the paper-cut like wound, Muscles tensing.

In [F/N]'s shaky hands was a summoning paper, In her stupor somehow able to pull them out and cut her thumb.

Sylphs floated around her, Glowing an angry luminescent blue and the air around them much fresher than before, Angry faces starting to dart towards him like arrows.

"Aha-! You really are impressive, Should've expected as much from an Arc Knight's apprentice!" Shima complimented in a swift moment, Pulling out his k'rik from within a pocket of his suit and extending it to it's full length.

The gold gleamed in the air, The hoops on the end rattling as he slammed it down towards the oncoming sylphs.

But it stopped.

Before the end of his staff could hit the floor, The fresh air emitted by the sylphs had vanished from the sight. Shima paused in his movements, Eyes raising up to realise that they had disappeared entirely.

He blinked, Sight lowering down.

[F/N] laid fallen upon the rocky pavement, Mouth ajar and dripping in her own saliva. Eyes rolled up to their whites as she convulsed on the floor. The sylphs gone with her, Disappeared once she had finally fallen unconscious.

Shima let out the biggest sigh of his life.

Luckily he didn't need to deal with [F/N], Who had already shown skill incredible and insanely difficult to deal with talents in taming. It would've been impossible to capture her without any sedative, And he needed this to go smoothly.

He still had to find Izumo, Of course!

☆♡☆

"Honey..?!"

"Daddy!!"

The cries of the mans family called out from behind him, Echoing up and out of the dingy stairwell they stood in.

It was cold, Frigid even. If it wasn't for the welcoming warmth outside it could've been mistaken for the winter, Mostly due to the freezer-like chill and the damp dripping conditions around them.

The bloody and beaten man was knelt towards the floor, Keeled and prostrated before The Paladin, An Arc Knight and an entire legion of exorcists, All surrounding him like a pack of dogs ready to snap and bite down onto his flesh.

"We're only getting started now.. As you can see, Your task has ended in failure." Lewin mused as he stood before the shaking man, A grin on his face as he almost looked fascinated by the dribble of blood spurting out from his wounds.

"Could you quickly tell us what's on at the big event?" His family, Terrified and shaking, They called out to him in horror. Lewin paid them no mind as he moved forward, Bending his knees and crouching down towards him.

The man still had his own ichor dripping down his face, Iron tasted teeth turning into a snarl.

"Monster!" He barked, Blood splattering onto the floor in front of him.

"Uh oh! Should you be using such an attitude?" Lewin laughed with a child-like smile as he lowered closer to the man, A gleam in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm gonna have to ask your wife and son!"

The mans bloodshot eyes widened at that, Flicking back from Lewin to his family in the matter of seconds. Blood poured out of his mouth faster than his expression turned sour, Horrified as he watched his family be restrained by a group of exorcists.

He shook his head, Eyes agape as they connected with his wife's.

"Don't.. They don't know anything!" The traitor sputtered as he turned back to face Lewin, Who smiled all the same at him. His wife and son, His pride and joy. They wouldn't.. They wouldn't dare…

Would they?

Lewin chuckled as his eyes seemed to part from under his hair, His elongated pupils and a gleam sharper than a sword in his eyes. The man only watched in horror, Listening to him as he spoke.

"Why bother acting like a good guy now?" Lewin asked as he examined him from his bloody head to severed toes. That sadistic smile downturned, Much more malicious now. "Both of us are monsters in this regard. Cut it out."

Lewin turned his head to meet the eyes of the mans family.

"Then.. Shall we start?" Lewin asked and suddenly the group of exorcists started to pull and manhandle the mans kin, Hands on their shoulders starting to tug them back. Their eyes widening, Struggling to no avail within the hands of the exorcists.

The man gasped.

"Daddy!" His son called out, Terrified face already bursting with tears.

"W-What are you doing..?!" The traitor called out. His expression petrified as he watched his family start to be dragged away into the sea of exorcists surrounding them, His wife wailing as she tried to call out for her son, Her husband all the while yelling for them to take their hands off her.

The man cried.

"W-We're kidnapping two girls hiding within the Japanese division, Both within the hour!" He called out as Lewin raised to his feet, The man watching him with both ire and fear in his eyes. "They're important for our organisation and our goals!"

Lewin frowned, Looking down at the man as he had finally given him the information he had wanted to know. He hummed, Resting his hands on his hips.

"Their names are?" He asked as he looked down at him.

The traitor gulped, Tasting his own blood.

"Izumo Kamiki..!" He rasped. Lewin stepped closer, Almost urging him to go on as the entire exorcist legion listened on.

"..And [F/N] Light!"

Lewin's heart stopped.

☆♡☆

A blinding white muffled by blurred vision, That was all [F/N] could see.

It felt like she was on a ship sailing on a billowing sea, Waves rocking the boat back and forth along the waves as seafoam sloshed at the sides. Rainy too, Pattering against the wild wind of the sails and the rickety wood of the body.

[F/N] wasn't in control of the wheel, Not able to steer her way through the rushing waves or the inky black of the clouds above. She wasn't able to see either, The rain too thick and the wind too fast to even see a proper route out.

Lewin.. Where was her brother?

Her eyelids raised, Though heavy and numb she managed to wretch them open. That blinding white became so much more prominent, So much more scorching to her eyes as she groaned at the sudden light.

"Ah.. You're awake."

A voice like stricken thunder shook her awake, Her eyes becoming lightweight as they shot open to come face to face with a blindingly bright room. Her body felt numb, Unbelievably so. As she rolled her shoulders she barely felt the cushions against them, Nor the clothes it pushed against.

[F/N] groaned, Her heart beginning to pound in her chest especially once she saw a humanoid blur come into focus. It seemed to sit across from her on what appeared to be.. A rather antique looking couch?

"L-Lew.. Lewin..?" [F/N] mumbled out. Her mind in shambles and her vision unfocused. What happened to her? Did she pass out on the couch? Did Lewin carry her home? [F/N] sniffled slightly, Head spinning as she tried to focus her vision.

"You must be confused.. I understand. Your body must be aching, I understand that too. I apologise for the way we had extracted you.. However it was deemed to be the most painless out of our options.." What?

That didn't sound like Lewin. That didn't sound like the jovial tune that sung every time he spoke. It sounded much more delicate, Much more bleak. [F/N] didn't recognise that voice, It certainly wasn't Lewin.

Opening her eyes a bit further, She tried to see through the blinding light.

"W-Who are..-"

Her eyes finally focused on a man sitting adjacent from her, Upon a rather expensive looking couch from the renaissance era. [F/N]'s breath hitched in her throat, Eyes widening, Not caring about the light now-

It was a man.

[F/N] felt her heart stop entirely at the sight of him, Her mouth growing dry. He sat right in front of her on the opposite couch, One leg over the other with posture that could make an old lord envious.

His hair was a beautiful blonde, One that shone white under the candle-light of the candelabra above. His eyes a glorious viridian like the tailfeathers of a rosella, Pupils cut down into slits stared at her with a soft gleam-

He was a demon.

[F/N] wanted to run.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you.. [F/N]. This meeting is long overdue.."

She felt a wave of unease wash over her, Something was incredibly- Incredibly wrong. It wasn't the way he sat or the way he looked- No- It wasn't even the evident rot festering on his skin.

But it was just the air he gave off, So subtly overwhelming. A pit in her stomach forming as she looked at him closer and closer. He presented himself as dignified, As angelic even- But something about that just made [F/N] want to turn her head and puke-

He wasn't right. He was off-

[F/N] felt bile rise in the back of her throat.

"My name is Lucifer, Commander of The Illuminati and The King of Light." Lucifer spoke, His emerald eyes gleaming under the luminescence.

[F/N]'s heart stopped.

Her hands grasped the edges of the couch she sat on with a grip that could crush stone. The.. The King of Light? Lucifer? It couldn't be. But every cell, Every molecule, Every atom was screaming at her to run-

Something that could only be achieved by such accursed royalty.

"You are currently sitting within my estate, Again, I apologise for your rather abrupt summoning here." Lucifer spoke up once more as he slowly rested one of his legs over another, A hand gesturing towards the table. "Please, Feel free to indulge. These were specifically procured to your taste, You do enjoy sugar, Correct?"

[F/N] didn't want to eat, She wanted to puke. Her throat was dry yet she could do little but reach a trembling hand over to the collection of treats upon the table top. Trays of tarts, Plates stacked with parfait all on this antique little table.

Her fingers fumbling before grasping a macaroon, Her eyes never leaving the demon sitting across from her.

[F/N] couldn't even think.

Lucifer's face never changed. Never ticked, Never twitched. Watching calmly as she began to nibble on the outer shell of the macaroon, The one that happened to be the same flavour she had grown to favour. A gentle hum erupted from his throat.

[F/N] flinched.

"Is it to your liking?" Lucifer asks her, His expression unmoving as [F/N] froze up on the spot. [F/N] felt her mind race at such a simple question, Swallowing back what little of the macaroon she had ingested.

Don't be scared- Don't- Just don't try to look him in the eye- His eyes- Just don't-

"..Y-Yes- Uhm-" [F/N] blurted out. It came out hoarse as her hand darted up to pat her throat, Her jugular tensing.

"Homare." Lucifer called out, His voice a little louder than the melodious tone he held before. [F/N]'s eyes darted to her right as she heard firm, But swift footsteps make their way over to the table.

CLANK!

[F/N] gulped. Two tea cups were placed onto the table. Liquid pouring. A petite woman standing by [F/N]'s side with an ornate porcelain teapot in hand, Contrasted by the adorned look on her Illuminati uniform.

When did get she here?

Homare didn't look at [F/N] at all, Her eyes kept on the from behind her glasses. Lips thinned in a tight line. As she finished pouring the liquid, [F/N] quickly took the teacup. Anything to avoid his eyeline.

"You must be wondering why you're here." Lucifer spoke up once more, Homare's presence going ignored as she began to pour the simmering hot tea into the second cup. [F/N] bit her lip.

"L-Listen- I don't have any information to give you." [F/N] quickly said, Her words blurring together. "I don't- I don't get that kind of access. I've never been to- I've never even been to Italy..! I-"

"You are not here for information, We are aware you aren't privy to that kind of information." Lucifer cut in calmly as Homare finished pouring the tea into his cup, Gently picking it up as she drew back away from them, Somewhere back into the room.

[F/N] gulped.

"T-Then why-"

"You've caused quite a stir in Gehenna, Though I'm sure you are aware of that by now." Lucifer spoke, Taking a sip of his tea. "Even amongst my siblings, The other kings, You've made quite an impression on them."

Lucifer lowered the teacup from his lips, His eyelids fluttering as he set it down amongst the array of desserts on the table. Irises flicking back

"I have been hearing about you for quite a long time.. Ever since Astaroth had returned speaking of a little human girl who had caused his vessel's heart to start beating.." Lucifer trailed off, For once, His eyes narrowed. "I had excused it as the delusion brought on by his rapidly decaying body.. But then it was Iblis and Egyn.. Who both haven't stopped mentioning you, Even to this day.."

[F/N]'s grip on the tea cup tightened as he continued on, Memories of the day she had met the pair of kings flashing in her mind. They had remembered her, They didn't let go- Her penchant-

This was what Azazel had warned her about.

"I've been wanting to meet you, You see." Lucifer spoke, A glint appearing in the shimmer of his eyes. "Your.. Penchant, As you call it, I want you to explain it to me. Tell me how you inflict it on other demons, As it has become rather troubling.. Tell me, How do you make them believe they feel human love?"

[F/N] wanted to scoff, She really did.

Human love? As if such a creature could comprehend it.

Human love was gentle, Human love was passionate, Yet there was no string of words to ever describe it. You could call it kind, You could call it exciting. Bonding, Connecting, Warming.

But none of these were ever things such a monster could understand.

"I.. I-I don't know- I can't control it." [F/N] tried to explain, Ashamed of the terror rushing through her veins as she tried to make sense of her words. "I-It's not like I'm doing it on purpose- It just happens when I meet them, That- That somehow they just become more.. Friendly..?"

The word friendly tasted like venom on her tongue.

"I-I don't know how to explain it- I don't know how it happens. Just.." [F/N] took in a shaky breath, Raising her head up to him, Humiliated by what she was about to do. "P-Please, Let me go. I just want to go home- I don't have anything to give you just..! Please.."

Begging.

It made her feel disgusting.

But she needed to get out of here, Out of here before he became affected too.

Lucifer hummed, Unaffected by her words as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting in. He had picked up his tea again and began to sip on it once more, His body still tense, The rot on his skin continuing to fester.

"So you can't control it.." Lucifer mumbled as he peered down at the liquid circling in his teacup. [F/N] was sat on baited breath. Well aware of the eyes on her, The body guards, The Illuminati members that she was unable to see stationed about the room.

"N-No..- So could you please just.. Please let me go." [F/N] spoke quietly, Yet desperately, Trying her best to convince The King of Light to let her go. Like a mouse begging a cat to let it out from in-between it's claws.

Lucifer didn't respond. Just sat there. Staring down at his tea.

"P-Please.. I'm only an exwire, I couldn't do anything even if I tried-" The grip on the teacup handle tightened.

[F/N] cut herself off as she watched his jaw tighten, Shoulders squaring, The teacup beginning to shake from the sheer grasp he had on the handle.

"Commander..!"

CRASH!

[F/N]'s eyes widened as she watched the teacup slip from his fingers, Shattering on impact at the edge of the table. Lucifer groaned under his breath, Keeling over, His trembling gloved fingers grasping the ledge of the table.

Homare, The woman from before rushing over to his side followed by a small fleet of guards. [F/N] pushed herself back in suprise, Hadn't expecting the crowd as they rushed to their superiors side.

"What the-"

"It appears this body is much weaker than I had thought..-"

Lucifer grasped the side of his cheek, Where [F/N] watched as the decay visibly grew. She felt her eyes widen as Homare helped steady him. Her attention focused on him and only him, Her lips thinned. [F/N] blinked.

Was this her chance?

Demon Kings, Their bodies unable to handle their strength, Decaying faster the bigger they are. It was only correct that the strongest amongst them would be in constant pain, Constant torture.

She knew what she needed to do- To try.

[F/N] slowly released her grip on the couch. Lucifer keeled over, His guards and right-hand focused soley on him. Nudging herself to the side, Further, A little more. [F/N] needed to find summoning paper, Or at least something to prick her thumb-

[F/N] didn't expect to get far, Not without her dear sylphs-

CRASH!

[F/N] yelped.

Trays and platters fell to the floor, The desserts crumbling against the floor to make way for the arm that lunged out from amongst the small group. A hand grasped onto her wrist. A thinning, Shaky, Sickly hand with such unbelievable strength.

A pair of green eyes were illuminated through the parting of silvery hair, Wide, Staring at her. His instincts and his reflexes unmatched. [F/N] stared into them, Her throat going dry-

"Do not move-"

THUMP!

It was like a pin had been dropped in a silent room, Or a scream erupting within a library. It was the kind of thing that could be felt from miles away, Like the devastation of a tsunami or the the heat scorching off the sun.

And it was without any noise, Not much anyway.

His hand let go. [F/N] pushed herself back onto the couch, Her legs almost kicking in her scurry, Trying to get as far away from him as possible.

THUMP!

She knew what had happened when Lucifer had gasped for air, Like a drowning man taking his first breath of air. When his face moved like it had muscles underneath, Not tin and clockwork.

The guards all made barks of concern as he collapsed back onto the couch. Body jerking. His eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling, Heaving, His chest raising up and down at an unnatural pace. His expression, It was-

"Commander..! Are you..-!"

"T-This heart.. This.." Lucifer breathed, In and out, His body splayed against the couch as his eyes lit up. The words of Homare went completely ignored. "This vessel-! T-This body..!"

Lucifer's hands grasped his vessel, One grasping the fabric and flesh covering his heart and the other almost frantically trailing up the rot that festered on the side of his face. His breathing ragged, Yet his body calm and almost relaxed.

"Commander..?" Homare's eyes widened as she watched him, Raising up as her eyes stared on with confusion. Lucifer grasped his chest, Where his heart was, His breathing slowing. Calming. If only a bit.

He shuddered, An audible shiver running down his spine. The fleet of guards stepped away from him, All looking at one and other at the scene. It was almost like his body had melted into the cushions, Relaxing, Like the numb procured from a good night's sleep.

"This body..!" Lucifer breathed out, His eyes aglow as he stared up at the ceiling above. His hand shook where it grasped his heart, The organ that began to thump. "There is no pain- I- What is.. It feels.. Good- No. It feels great..!"

Lucifer stirred, His head almost lolling to the side as he sat forward on the couch. His eyes looked almost dizzy, And if not for his unsightly self-control he would've collapsed right back onto the cushions.

[F/N] flinched when his head raised.

He was affected.

Lucifer's eyes snapped onto her, Widening, Watching.

"You..-!"

His voice sounded like he was parched, His eyes lighting up when he finally drew his attention back to her.

[F/N] could only yelp once she was yanked forward. When those hands grasped onto her wrists and tugged her forward. She almost collapsed over the table and the fallen trays, Barely grasping onto the edge to save herself.

"T-This was it..! I understand it now.. What my siblings were raving about, This is it..!" Lucifer rasped as he pulled her closer with such unthinkable strength, His stare scorching, Looking down at her- "You.. I understand now, Why they were so enthralled by you- I understand-!"

[F/N] yelped.

"No- No- NO-!" [F/N] yelled out, Unable to take it anymore. She cried out. Trying to yank her arm away from him to no avail. Lucifer only tightened his grip around her wrist. Painful, Almost bruising her skin.

"You..! You stay right there-!" Homare called out, A hiss in her voice as she quickly took charge and grasped onto [F/N]'s shoulder, Keeping her in place. [F/N] struggled, Trying her very best to get out of the woman's grasp but it was futile.

"L-Let go-!"

"Please.. Come closer." Lucifer almost begged, His voice quiet yet pleading as he relented the grasp he had on her to beckon her towards him.

Was the space between them too much? The two foot wide gap? [F/N] felt tears begin to prick in her eyes, Pure hatred running through her veins as Homare wrestled her up to her feet and began to shepherd her around the table.

She almost slipped on the polish of the wood, Trying to kick her way out of Homare's hold.

But it was useless.

[F/N] felt herself get pushed down onto the opposite couch, Her back hitting the cushions as a chill ran down her spine. Whenever this happened, Whenever another demon king got affected by her penchant she had always found a way out. To run or fight, She had always found a way out of here.

She always had. Always. Even now there was a way out, Wasn't there? There must be- Surely-

"There you are.. That is much better.." Lucifer spoke out, His voice returning to that gentle lilt though there was an undeniable warmth to it now. His eyes gleaming, Sitting there beside her, Facing her, His attention unwavering.

"Don't- Don't touch me-!" [F/N] cried out, Tears starting to trickle down her cheeks as Lucifer took them into his gloved palms. His touch was freezing, Even through the silky fabric.

It was enveloping too, His grasp a little too tight. How could she get out? How could she escape? His grasp make her skin feel dead and embalmed. The guards surrounded them, Homare especially keeping her eyes trained on [F/N] for any sudden movements.

Fuck. [F/N] trembled. There was no way she'd be able to get away, There was no chance. [F/N]'s reddening eyes were wide, Unable to remove them from Lucifer's. Tears falling down her face, Sizzling at her skin.

How could she get away? In the end she was still just a girl.

The same girl refused to follow her friend into the forest.

Oh, Who was [F/N] kidding?

She was still a kid.

A stupid, Scared, Sniffling little kid.

"No.. No. Why are you crying?" Lucifer asked quietly, Eyes narrowing. His thumb rubbing circles into the skin of her cheek. Wiping away the tears that erupted from her ducts. "It.. Does not feel good to see.. Tell me, What is it that you want? What will make you stop?"

[F/N] hiccupped.

"To go home-! Let me go home-!"

"-No. Anything but that." Lucifer answered quickly, His lips thinning. His hands holding her face growing tighter at her words. "I'll give you anything else.. You see, This vessel.. I have never been able to exist a moment in this world without pain.. An ache that never dissolved, Not until now.."

Lucifer's voice almost shook, The euphoria of normalcy was overwhelming, Overtaking. It was something he could feel in his very being. [F/N] hiccupped, Her throat aching.

Lucifer parted his eyes from hers for only a moment, Glancing up at his right-hand.

"Homare.. Please summon a cleaner to fix this mess as well as more tea." Lucifer ordered firmly, Still gripping [F/N]'s crying face in his hands as Homare saluted and bowed, Barking out a "Yes, Sir..!" before quickly making her way towards the rooms pair of doors.

It was only once they opened and shut did Lucifer return his gaze towards her. Such a sickening, Burning gaze.

It was calculating, Thinking, Asking himself what he was to do.

"Now.."

Tears continued to run down her face even when she was tugged closer. Gently, Yet firm as she felt his arms awkwardly rest around her in what could only be described as an android's attempt at a hug.

His movements were stiff, His limbs not use to the action he was doing. An arm around her back with another on the back of her head. He had leant down, Her head resting on his shoulder. It was if he was trying to mimic what others have done before, A fraudulent copy of what usually was such a genuine action.

[F/N] didn't even fight back, Not when she felt the stare of the entire guard on her back.

"..Does this make you feel better?" Lucifer asked after a moment, His head resting atop hers. [F/N] still shook in his grasp, His cold and mechanic grasp. Feeling his fingers weave themselves into her hair, Firmer than what she expected.

Awkward, But firm enough to ensure she would be unable to get out.

It didn't make her feel better, Not in the slightest. [F/N] tried her best to calm herself down, To think rationally. To imagine that she was hugging someone she actually loved, Like Lewin or Osceola or her friends from the cram school.

Friends, They really were her friends.

[F/N] sniffled, Trying to imagine she was with them and not Lucifer right now. Imagining the smell of ash in the classroom, The obnoxiously coloured halls, The echoing chatter that bounced around the room.

[F/N] missed them. Her friends. Her actual friends. She had companions for once in her life. She had a network, A system she could rely on when she fell, Knowing that they would help her get back up.

[F/N] hoped they were coming for her, To help her get out of here. Anywhere but here, Anywhere.

"Commander."

Homare had returned, Had it been that long? [F/N] saw her standing there through the blur of her tears, Arms positioned behind her back and her eyes a little bit wider than they were before.

There was no tray of tea in her hands like she was ordered to bring.

[F/N]'s eyes widened.

A sudden chill washing over her.

"Commander, I apologise for returning so quickly however I've just been informed that we have- Erm.. Guests." Homare coughed on the last part, Almost as if figuring out how to put it.

Readjusting her glasses she spoke once again.

"The other demon kings, They are here."

[F/N] felt her heart stop.

The demon kings.. They..

They were here?

Lucifer let go of [F/N] however reluctantly, Releasing her from his hold. He pushed himself up to his feet and readjusted his uniform, Settling the velvet of his cape back over his shoulders as he turned to face Homare.

"I had expected this much.. I can sense their presence already.." Lucifer spoke calmly as he dusted himself off. "Not just Astaroth, Iblis and Egyn.. I can sense that Beelzebub, Amaimon and Samael are here as well.."

"Yes, Commander. They are currently standing within the foyer as we speak, They are currently waiting for you."

"Is Samael willing to talk?"

"Yes, I believe he was the one that alerted Beelzebub and Amaimon here. He has not came with anyone from The Order."

"I see. Good."

[F/N] felt her heart near explode. The kings, Demons, The worst of them all.

They were here.

A cold sweat covered her skin worse than it had before, Tears and snot dribbling down her face even harder. All of them, The ones she had met over the years, They had never forgotten her and now they were here.

[F/N] couldn't fight, Couldn't scream, She couldn't run anymore like she had done so many times in the past.

This was it.

There was no escaping now.

"Prepare the master dining room for a feast, Summon the cooks to prepare food however last-minute. Whatever they deem is best."

"How many chairs, Commander?"

"Nine. I can sense Azazel has recently found himself a vessel, He should be arriving rather late but make room for him anyways."

Lucifer turned to her, The emerald in his eyes glinting as he looked down at her. That expression, The one of calm and collected demeanour holding something else now. Something much darker than his title suggested.

He turned to her, Examining her from head to toe.

"I suppose there would be no time to fix your appearance, Unfortunately. I don't believe that our siblings would stay patient much longer.." Lucifer remarked as he looked at her, Frozen there, Terrified out of her mind.

He turned to face her now, Homare already running off to complete her order. Lucifer looked at her from head to toe, At her expression of gritted teeth and sweat building on her brow.

Lucifer almost sighed.

"And I don't suppose you would come peacefully to the dining room either. You are still shaken from the unorthodox way I brought you here, Not to mention that I've heard you have a rather troublesome distaste for us demons." Lucifer almost lamented as he looked down at her.

He took a step forward, His hand raising in the air.

"Ah.. It's no matter. Today you have shown me how it feels to exist without pain, Without weakness." Lucifer spoke, Grateful, His words were dripping in it. "Even now I feel the beating of this vessel's heart, What a wonderous feeling. I understand what the rest of our siblings meant when they had told me.. And I thank you for that."

All of a sudden, He snapped his fingers.

[F/N] only heard the quick sounds of footsteps, Hundreds, Thousands. Echoing and ringing in her ears as she was hefted up to her feet. An arm under each of her pits, Carrying her, Holding her up with such daze in her expression.

Lucifer's gaze almost softened.

"This is familial love, Is it not? Even such a demon as I can be affected by it, By you." Lucifer spoke, So eerily, Dreamily. As the guards surrounding her began to take her away, Her mind in shambles with no more tears left to cry.

[F/N] felt her feet drag against the floor, Mind yelling at her- Screaming as she heard a door open.

Wishing this was all just a dream.

A ghost of a smile appeared across Lucifer's face, Only fitting on such a lifeless being.

"Don't try to fight or run, [F/N]. You may not favour demons, But as our newest sibling, You are sure to learn how to see things our way. However long it takes. Please, Try to behave yourself, Will you?"

The door slammed shut.

And suddenly, Everything turned black.