#That's why it's called decay of ANGELS

[wiwiurikawa]

Fyodor & Bram

fyobram.... again

Really quick sketch

" is that an Angel?"

I couldn't find the post that inspired this

I only added fyobram the idea isn't mine

(Yes I know fyodor called him a devil, I don't care)

[alxastrx]

When you're one of the most selfish mc who only saves people because it's part of a job you never wanted and did not get to chose or you would've died, who took your co-workers' morals and ideals because you didn't have any and desperately wanted to fit in somewhere, be it with the heroes or the villains, who's activelly haunted by one the most tragic past to have been created and suffer from a psychosis so bad (dare I say schizophrenia) that even your enemies acknowledged that you are mentally ill and objectively flawed in your judgement, never hesitated to try to kill anyone and has the most egoistic reason to be a good person but the fandom still thinks you're just a kind crybaby "I don't know what a gun is" homosexual twink.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

Next

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[evilvillain123456789]

you are not a cannibal. you make centaurworld animatics set to lemon demon songs. you watched hannibal during the tender childhood age of 17 and it made you annoying. if you were actually aroused by cannibalism you wouldnt be blogging about it like you do. you wouldnt be saying the things you do. why don't you learn some german and hit up the forums? right, you can't, because the authorities hate us. but not you. where were you? reading fanfiction? beat off in front of me right now. prove yourself. cannibalism is in vogue cause of you freaky deaky "ex catholic" types but i know your ass was mormon or protestant or shit like that & your childhood church was an ugly grey room. i know your ass never got to taste the wine cause you went to liberal church that takes a stance against underage drinking. & your jewish mutuals told you that you were being weird about angels so you started being weird about the eucharist. well i'm here to put a stop to it. lets be real here. you kill someone, or stumble across a body, your ass is not taking a bite. you lack the strength to remove a limb. i bet you wont even stick your dick in. you freeze up. because nobody on this website really gets a boner from the thought of eating a dead body. and if they do they are running a blog that posts pictures of dead mangled real life bodies in stages of decay. Or they know damn well to keep quiet. Theyre not on tumblr beside you. Theyre far away from people like you. and even if they didnt run a gore blog, i'm sure they know better than to bare their true feelings. because they know prosecution. nobody on tumblr for normal people like these things. & he/they who says so in the replies, or reblogs, or tags from which below, is lying. straight up. its just an aesthetic. you say its a fetish but its an aesthetic. you are fucking lying. you are just annoying. go post about stinky feet and getting boypreggers and leave the real shit alone cause once you get out of your cute little circle of tumblr kinnies and come into contact with a guy who actually gets a big big sloppy boner from the thought of writhing in filth inside and out, you are going to call Whang.

[freezerbrldes]

onanist - s.r.

PAIRING. Vampire!Spencer x Fem!reader

SUMMARY. Overcome with intense loneliness, you seek solace from any spirit that could hear your prayers. A dark century old entity answers those prays, only his obsession with you is more than you can handle…

WARNINGS. lots of mentions of blood, biting, dom!spencer, slight somnophilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), pnv sex, spencer is extremely possessive.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This is heavily inspired by Nosferatu (2024)! The title is from one of my favorite songs off ethel cain’s newest ep, which I listened to a lot while writing this. I’ve never written dom!spencer or anything this dark so I had some help from @primomover. She helped me get the story started and I left in a section that she wrote.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

wc: 2,470

also on ao3

For as long as you can recall, you’ve had this recurring dream where the most captivating and beautiful man you’ve ever seen appears in your room late at night. This man embodies all your deepest, darkest, and perverted desires, and he brings out a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

He revealed to you once that his name is Spencer Reid. You know nothing else about him, yet you’re irresistibly drawn to him.

You shouldn’t even entertain these thoughts. You were married, and you shouldn’t be dreaming about anyone except your husband. However, the enigmatic man from your dreams haunts your every waking moment.

All is quiet in your empty townhouse, save for the soothing sounds of the creaks and groans of the house settling into the night.

Your husband is away on a six-week business trip, and you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions: fear of having to face the intensity of your dreams alone, but also excitement at the possibility of giving yourself up to the darkness you so desperately craved.

As you descend into a deeper sleep, the familiar dream starts. You’re standing by the balcony door as it swings open, and the curtains sway gently in the wind. A large, dark figure enters the room, towering over you as the smell of decaying flesh fills the room.

“Why do you keep visiting me every night? Who are you?” you asked, your eyes memorizing every feature of his gorgeous face, your eyes stopping at his sharp, razor-like teeth.

Spencer chuckles at your words, his loud voice reverberating through the house, causing it to shake slightly.

“Don’t you recall me? Don’t you remember calling out for me?” He spoke, his icy fingers gently caressing your face, sending shivers down your spine.

"I do remember,” you replied. “I prayed to the Lord to end my solitude." I said gently. "To send me an angel."

"Is that what I am? An angel?" He asked. As cold as his lips were, his breath set you on fire.

You looked at him - his eyes seemed to glow as they looked at your supple flesh.

"I fear you are not." You told him. He let out a huff of a laugh.

"What is to say l am not an angel that was cast out by an unforgiving god?" He swept you around in a twirl, one arm keeping your waist pulled tight against his.

“No,” you replied, your voice trembling not out of fear, but with an overwhelming sense of desire. “You are something far more sinister than a fallen angel.”

His laughter turned into a low, menacing chuckle as he spun you back around, pinning you against the wall with his body.

"Darker?" He repeated, his voice dripping with seduction and danger. "Perhaps... but you find yourself drawn to it, don't you?" His hands roamed down your sides, fingers trailing along the curves of your hips and thighs.

"This darkness within me, it stirs something primal inside you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "A desire to be consumed, to surrender to the shadows."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And I will devour you whole, my child. Body and soul." His words sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and exhilaration.

You knew you should resist, but the pull towards this dark, mysterious being was too strong to ignore.

Spencer could sense your hesitation, and rage began to grow in his mind as he imagined you in your husband’s arms.

Spencer's grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as if trying to anchor you in place. He sensed your inner turmoil, the conflict between your loyalty to your husband and the forbidden attraction you felt for him.

"You struggle with the chains of convention," he murmured, his voice a hypnotic whisper. "The societal expectations that bind you. But here, with me, those constraints fall away."

One hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist and coming to rest just below your ribcage. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins despite the warning bells ringing in your mind.

"You can be free," he breathed, his lips grazing the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Free to indulge in the depths of your own desires, without judgment or repercussions. All you need to do is give in to me."

His touch ignited a wildfire within you, the flames of passion consuming every shred of resistance. You found yourself arching into him, craving more of that intoxicating sensation.

"You make it so easy to abandon all reason," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "To surrender to the temptation..."

Spencer chuckled darkly, the sound sending chills down your spine.

"It's almost... sad, really. So much potential wasted on trivial matters like vows and duty,” He says, his hand reached up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose the vulnerable column of your throat.

“Don't you see, my dear? I'm offering you liberation from the shackles of mortality itself. Eternal life, unbridled pleasure, unending ecstasy." He licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a trail of cool fire in his wake.

Spencer's teeth grazed your pulse point, making you gasp. The threat of pain mingled with the promise of rapture, leaving you dizzy with longing.

"Liberation?" you echoed, your mind reeling with the implications. To be free of the burdens that weighed you down, to embrace everything that brought you deep shame.

"Yes," Spencer purred, his breath hot against your skin. "Freedom from the mundane, the ordinary. A chance to explore the depths of your own depravity, to dance with the darkness within."

His hand slid lower, cupping your sex through the fabric of your nightgown. Even the thin barrier couldn't conceal the heat emanating from your core.

"All you need to do is say yes," he coaxed, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. "Give yourself to me, and I'll show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams."

Without a second thought, your lips collided with his in a passionate, messy kiss. The back of your knees hit the bed as he pushes you onto it, quickly moving onto of you.

Spencer's mouth claimed yours with ruthless hunger, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. The kiss was bruising, demanding, a declaration of ownership. He drank in your moans, relishing the taste of your submission.

As he ravaged your lips, his hands roamed your body with increasing boldness. He palmed your breasts, thumbs teasing the hardened nipples through the fabric of your nightgown. Then, with a swift motion, he tore the garment open.

"You're mine now," he growled against your mouth, breaking the kiss only to gaze at you with predatory intensity. "Every inch of you belongs to me."

Without waiting for a response, he dipped his head to capture a pert nipple between his teeth, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. His free hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers finding the damp heat of your arousal.

Spencer's touch ignited a frenzy of desire within you, each stroke of his fingers pushing you closer to the edge. You writhed against him, desperate for more friction, more pressure.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he toyed with your clit. "I need- I need you inside me."

Spencer's eyes flashed with triumph, his grip on your thigh tightening.

"Such eagerness," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But first, I want to taste you."

With a fluid motion, he sank to his knees, yanking your panties down your legs. Before you could protest, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your slick folds with reckless abandon.

The sensations were overwhelming— the heat of his breath, the firm pressure of his lips, the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

Spencer's ministrations drove you wild, each lap of his tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close as he feasted on your essence.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he murmured against your flesh, his words vibrating against your clit and making you quiver. "So sweet, I could devour you forever."

He pushes two fingers inside of you, curling them against your g-spot as he suckled your clit with renewed vigor. The coil of tension within you wound tighter and tighter, until finally, you shattered.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, waves of ecstasy washing through you as you cried out his name. Spencer rode out your climax with his mouth, prolonging your pleasure until you collapsed against the bed, panting and spent.

Spencer removes his clothing before returning to his rightful place on top of you.

His naked form pressed against yours, the chill of his skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of your own. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping lightly over the delicate flesh as he whispered in a husky murmur.

"I've waited an eternity for this moment, my love. For the chance to claim you, to make you mine forevermore."

His hands roamed your body, mapping the curves and contours with reverent touch. He cupped your breasts, thumbs flicking over the stiff peaks as he lavished attention on your sensitive skin.

"You're exquisite," he breathed, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "A masterpiece crafted just for me, and soon, I'll sink my teeth into your tender flesh and drink in your life force, binding us together for all time."

Spencer's words sent shivers down your spine, the promise of his bite igniting a thrill of fear and excitement. You knew what would happen if he took your blood- the eternal bond, the loss of your mortal self.

And yet, as he positioned himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, you found yourself craving that very fate. Craving the completeness, the utter possession, that only he could offer.

"Take me," you whispered, arching your back to meet his hips. "Make me yours, forever and always."

Spencer's eyes gleamed with triumph as he sheathed himself inside you in one smooth stroke. He paused for a moment, savoring the tight heat enveloping him, before beginning to move.

Spencer set a relentless pace, driving into you with powerful, precise strokes. Each thrust hit that sweet spot deep within, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts.

"You feel incredible," he groaned, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight, so wet. As if you were made for me alone."

He angled his hips, reaching even deeper, and you felt your walls flutter around him in response. The sensation was overwhelming, bordering on pain, but you craved it, needed it to consume you whole.

"Yes, harder!" you shouted, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Fuck me like you own me!"

Spencer's grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he complied with your demand. His lips trailed down your neck, biting slightly as he drew blood, licking it off of your delicate skin as he moans at the taste.

Spencer's fangs pierced your skin, sinking deep to draw forth a trickle of crimson lifeblood. He groaned in rapture as the metallic flavor danced on his tongue, the primal urge to feed overwhelming him.

But he held back, content for now to simply savor the taste of you. His tongue swirled around the wound, lapping up every precious drop before sealing the punctures with a gentle kiss.

“You taste divine,” his voice thick with desire. "Let me have a little taste of your essence. It's addictive."

He rocked into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "Soon, I'll take more than just a sip."

Spencer's thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping as the hunger for your blood intensified. You felt his sharp teeth sink into the skin in between your breasts. He drank deeply from the fresh wound.

The taste of you was sublime, headier than any wine or drug. He couldn't get enough. He swallowed greedily, his eyes rolling back in bliss as he savored each mouthful.

"You're mine now, body and soul," he declared, his voice low and menacing as his mouth returns to your chest, drinking the thick crimson fluid.

You moan out in both pleasure and pain, feeling disoriented from the loss of blood. Your hands tangle into his hair, holding his head in place as he continues to drink.

Spencer kept feeding, each pull at your veins dragging you closer to the edge of consciousness. But still, you held him against your chest, unwilling to break the contact.

He pulled away, a faint line of blood tracing his lips, you felt dizzy, lightheaded. Your vision blurred at the edges, the room spinning around you. But through it all, you clung to him, your body thrumming with a newfound energy, a vitality that bordered on the supernatural.

"More," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Keep feeding."

Spencer's eyes glowed with an unholy light as he smiled, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. "Anything for you, my love," he purred, already descending upon your neck once more.

Spencer's fangs sank deeper, tearing open new pathways for his insatiable thirst. With each swallow, he felt your essence coursing through his veins, amplifying his strength, his speed, his very being.

His hips pistoned forward with renewed vigor, pounding into you with ruthless intensity. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with each brutal thrust.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a guttural snarl. "All mine. Forever and always."

He could feel your climax building, your inner walls clenching around him like a vice. With a final, savage bite, he sent you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm triggered Spencer’s, the rhythmic contractions of your pussy pushed him over the edge as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling deeply within you as he drank the last of your blood.

He collapsed atop you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Spencer lifted his head to gaze down at you. His eyes, once a vivid hazel, had darkened to an almost black hue, his face and chest completely covered in your blood.

You were too weak to move. Lying helplessly on the bed, you watched Spencer stare down at you with a wicked grin on his face.

You tried desperately to wake yourself up from this dream, but as you began losing consciousness you realized this wasn’t a dream anymore.

The last thing you hear is Spencer’s maniacal laughter echoing in your ears…

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

[kykyonthemoon]

Where This World Decays

In the sinful and ruined city of Linkon, he met her. She was the family he had sworn to protect with his life. Still, he lost her. Years later, the girl who appeared before him seemed to be an entirely different person. She recalled only his name, while she had forgotten their childhood together. His pip-squeak from the past was dead. The person by his side was now an SSS-level praedator. Regardless of what she became, he would always protect her...

A corrupted councilman. A praedator in the guise of an enforcer. Could there be a safe haven for them in this world?

── .✦ Caleb x MC

── .✦ Tags: R16, AU, dystopian world, dark themes, crimes & mild violence, mental issues implied, trauma, corruption, angst with a little fluff, hurt/comfort, death and resurrection, murder implied, childhood friends, open ending.

── .✦ Word count: over 5000w - a short story divided into five parts.

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes:

MC’s name in this story is Asteria, a name Caleb gave to her when they were little. I chose this name after the titan Asteria in Greek mythology, who is Perses’s wife (Perses is Caleb’s codename in the current event story).

This story is submitted to the Love and Deepspace [Desire Savage, Embrace Tomorrow] Fan Art Contest.

Your support on my X is always appreciated <3

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (closed for the time being)

I.

…Recent attacks in Linkon have targeted officials, as per reports…

…The body of an LCBI enforcer was discovered in an abandoned warehouse near the Southern District last week. Another enforcer has been reported missing.

…Hydra, an SSS-level praedator, is said to be behind the assaults. The exact identity of Hydra remains unknown. However, new witnesses believe Hydra is female, not male as initially mentioned.

…Up until now, the councilman of the Northern District has yet to respond to charges and pressure from other parties…

The screen in the room grew black. The buzzing noise from the old radio vanished with it. Everything became silent. Beyond the glass pane, the city of Linkon twinkled like stars, delicate in the dense, hazardous night.

He strolled around the room. There was not a wrinkle or a stain on the white uniform he wore. It did not belong here. Yet he needed it as a shield to protect this old watchtower, to protect the person he loved.

He passed through the ages-old door, which led to a darker and colder chamber. There were more than a dozen other antiquated CCTVs on the wall that he had connected to a network, though the only red dot he cared about was in the center, in this room. His gaze landed on the corner. A modest bed was placed there, bound to the floor with chains. On the pure white mattress lay a petite sleeping angel, as if she felt no agony from having her wings shattered and being imprisoned in this place.

He approached her, gently as he wished not to wake her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, removed his glove, and stroked her face. Her drenched hair was brushed aside, revealing the face engraved in his dreams. The touch awoke her. When she turned, the shackles that held her began to creak.

“Caleb?…” She called to him, half asleep. As long as she called, he would always be there.

“How are you feeling, pip-squeak?”

She did not respond straight away. Her eyes opened slowly. As the dark chamber loomed in front of her and the heavy shackles pushed down on her, she appeared fully awake.

"Caleb? Why are you here?"

She struggled to break free from her bounds. However, the more she moved, the more anguish she experienced. He grabbed her hand and softly caressed it.

“Stay still, pip-squeak. You’ll be fine.”

“What happened, Caleb? Did I… Was I in a Frenzied State again?”

His eyes met hers for a moment, then he tried to avoid this uneasy conversation by consoling her more.

“Do you want anything to eat? How about braised chicken wings? I’ll make it for you right away.”

But she was restless. Her voice rose as she called his name:

“Caleb! Tell me! What happened? How long have I been here?”

“Not for long, pip-squeak,” he lied. “You barely realized I was gone to the center of the city and back.”

"I feel like I've been sleeping for forever…" She spoke again. "Can I go outside?"

His fingers gently caressed her heated face. Her entire body felt on fire.

"Just wait a little longer. When you feel better, I'll take you out."

She seemed displeased. However, her expression immediately became quite miserable, to the point that his heart felt like it was being cut and torn apart, as she said:

“Please, Caleb… I don’t like this room… It’s cold… And lonely… Let me out, will you?… Let me stay in my old room… You can chain me there if you want…”

She knew very well that she had him in the palm of her hand. Name it and he would not refuse her anything. But at a time when her safety depended entirely on him, he had to hold her tight, even if it made her angry with him.

Caleb averted his attention away from her depressed expression.

“Stay here for just a few more hours, pip-squeak.”

Like a smoldering fire waiting for the wind to blow, she raged in an aggressive manner. Her pupils dilated, and she laughed in a new burst of mania.

“I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE!”

She was faster than him, stronger than he was in this state. She leaned toward him and pushed him down on the bed. Her physique, ever so much smaller than his, was now utterly dominant. She repeated her words over and over again:

“Let me out! Caleb! I want to be out!”

Her hands clenched into fists, crumpling his uniform. Like a child demanding candy, she poured her anger on his chest. One blow at a time. She could have suffocated him if she had wanted to. He did not protest, instead softly wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her still against his body. When her frenzy subsided, she would collapse on his chest, then he would take his entire world in his arms.

Even so, her frenzy was getting more and more out of control. She had torn off the old shackles a few days before and fled outside. It would require more serum doses to handle her. She would eventually wreck this bed, too, sooner or later.

Fingers crossed that he would get things all sorted out before she did so.

“Caleb hates me, right?” She kept punching him, while a scorching tear streamed from her eyes onto his lips. It felt like salt. “Caleb hates the way I am now, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t hate you, pip-squeak,” he replied. His fingers found her face and wiped away the jewel-like tears. “I promised I would always protect you.”

He made that promise since they were little. The fact that she was a praedator did not change it.

II.

The first time he met her was when they fought over a rotten apple. In the Southern District, a place steeped in sin and chaos, homeless children like them could only survive on what others had discarded. Seeing her so hungry that she almost fainted, he stopped fighting and cut the still nice portion of the apple for her. From then on, she followed him around like a little shadow. She had no idea who she was or where she came from. Perhaps her entire family had died. Nobody came searching for her, and even if they had, she would not remember. She simply knew that following him would lead to safety and better meals.

“I’m Caleb. What’s your name?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t even remember your own name? What should I call you then?”

“Anything you want.”

He raised his head. Through the hole in the ruined canopy above him, he saw the stars dancing together. Perhaps she was like those stars, beautiful and out of his reach. She did not belong in this rotten world.

“Or, I could call you Asteria,” he said after a long moment. “My teacher in the past said it meant star.”

She said nothing. But perhaps she preferred being called pip-squeak, a moniker he had only come up with after a kind man had taken them under his wing. They lived together in an old watchtower. The area had seen its heyday before the Southern District fell into ruins. At least now, they had a roof over their heads.

Caleb once had a family, but there was little joy to recall. The only things that were etched in his mind were of the violent beatings he had from the adults who exploited his Evol to commit unlawful acts. He could control gravity. That was how he evaded the praedator assault that year. He ran away, never looking back at his family as they screamed.

Now he had a new family. For a while, but still a family.

He taught Asteria how to read and write. She learned quickly. She also enjoyed climbing to the top of the watchtower to watch the sunset. However, when she was younger, she had to ask him to use his Evol to bring her up there. He liked having her depend on him, having her follow him around. He liked being the big brother who always protected her.

But he could not safeguard her forever.

That day, the rain poured down as if to wash away all the filth in the Southern District. Asteria, his star, had gone insane and bolted outside. Her small figure faded into the white curtain that the sky had dropped on the ground.

Many hours later, the rain stopped, and he located her in a slum on the outskirts of the area. She lay in a pool of blood that was not her own. He almost lost control.

“She’ll be fine,” the old man said. He was the keeper of this watchtower, the one who had been looking after them both. “Whoever she attacked should be worried by now.”

“She attacked someone?” Caleb asked. He had not yet learned what she was.

“Didn’t you already know? Your sister is a praedator.”

Despite the fact that the sky had cleared, he remained there as if hit by lightning. He glanced at her sleeping figure on the bed for a long, long time. And he convinced himself that her innocence was genuine, that it was not a facade to hide the devil inside her. It was all a twist of fate.

She awoke the next morning, completely clueless with no recollection of what had happened since her disappearance in the rain.

“You're still unwell. Just sleep a little longer, you'll be fine.”

He lied to her. He lied to himself. She obediently curled up in his arms.

“Caleb… Will you stay here?”

Her hand intertwined with his.

“Stay here, and don’t leave me alone, will you?”

He pledged to protect her. Always.

III.

The watchtower keeper who shared their living quarters died soon after. He left the place, along with some cash and his things to two teenagers who were not his blood kin. Only Caleb and Asteria remained, relying on each other.

She became aware that she was a praedator as she grew older. When she was in a Frenzied State, she locked herself in her room and threw the key to him. The more she pushed him away, the more he wanted to get closer and shield her with his own hands, as he had promised. He was willing to be her victim. She never bit him, no matter how upset she was or how many times she assaulted or wounded him.

His Evol was quite effective in keeping her in place. When the frenzy dissipated, she gently slumped in his arms. When she awoke, she would have no memory of what had happened. However, the wounds on Caleb's body did not lie. She noticed them, despite his best efforts to conceal them.

“I am a monster…”

“Hey, don’t say that. You didn't choose this.”

“Compared to being a praedator, death seems to be a much happier choice…”

The wind blew on the watchtower. They sat together, watching the city of Linkon on the horizon, crimson by the dying day. He turned to her and said: 

"I'm glad you survived. So we could meet." 

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled. Perhaps the best thing she had known since becoming a mutant was him.

“Caleb, lower your head.” She told him. He was surprised and inquisitive about what she was up to. He did what she requested and bowed his head toward her.

Asteria put a metal necklace on him. The pendant was a dog tag with some claw marks on it. He looked at it, then back at her.

“For you,” she smiled. “I saved up the allowance you gave me to buy it.”

He fiddled with the necklace, grinning again.

“I gave you the money I got from my part-time jobs to buy food and things for yourself. Yet you bought me a gift.”

She extended her hand to him and said, "If you don't like it, give it back to me." 

“Nooope.” He grabbed the string and slipped it under his outer shirt. “It belongs to me now.”

The sun was fading. The lights encircled them like stars. Neither of them said it aloud, but they both secretly wished that this serenity would last a little longer, just a little longer.

Yet, the merciless night separated them in an onslaught by the praedators.

IV.

He could not find her anymore. The fact that he had lost her, possibly forever, drove Caleb insane. He wandered around calling her name. He turned over each frozen corpse along the way, only to find some relief that it was not her. He followed the hourly news updates, not daring to miss the casualty count or the identities of the praedators. Yet she was gone.

He came to the conclusion that, in order to protect her, he must have power. He was a brilliant young man with a talent for winning people's hearts. Shortly after the incident, he was adopted by an upper-class family in the Northern District. From then, he began to climb the political ladder, eventually rising to the position of a councilman.

He had to. He must gain the authority, the status, all means to find her. And he did. One day, she came before him as an LCBI enforcer. She recognized him in the crowd, yet she could no longer remember any of the memories they had shared, not even the necklace wrapped around his neck.

He never asked her what had happened since their separation. She did not mention it either. But he could put together the events based on what she told him and his own private investigations. 

Asteria had been captured by an organization known as Ever while on the run. They had imprisoned her in a facility far away from Linkon. They must have known the truth about her. During their cruel, inhumane experiments, she had perished. She had died no less than ten times.

And they learned her secret: she was a praedator capable of reviving herself. Each time she returned from hell, her abilities were enhanced. Until one day, she was powerful enough to shatter all the chains and bring Death to those who had repeatedly murdered her. No one survived at that secret base of Ever. Human or praedator, there was no one left alive.

Her frenzy passed, and she discovered the file on herself in a pool of blood. She was unfamiliar with everything except the old photograph tucked inside the file. She must have had it with her when she was brought here. It was her, standing next to a boy with a smile as warm as the sun. That familiar feeling rushed into her heart like an unexpected invader. She broke into tears, without knowing why. Her tears obscured the wording on the photograph: Asteria and Caleb, together forever.

She wandered barefoot, seeking for him. She remembered nothing, except the urge to find him, to be with him. She joined a crowd of refugees streaming into Linkon's city center. Another attack had just broken out, and she had not hesitated to defeat the praedator who stood in her way. The LCBI became aware of her after that occurrence. They came for her, and she accepted to take part in their training program.

It was hard to cover her secret from the enforcers. However, she had successfully deceived the LCBI several times when they were attempting to pursue her other alias, the SSS-level praedator known as Hydra. She even led them to believe that Hydra was a man in the Northern District. Her secret was probably known to only one person: Caleb.

Ever since their reunion, he had been keeping an eye on her. Whether she was Asteria of the LCBI Operations Sector I or Hydra - the praedator; everywhere she went, everyone she interacted with could not escape his gaze from this watchtower.

The first thing he did when he gained both wealth and authority was to quietly renovate their old watchtower. It was not only a shelter, but also a place where he had watched her since she returned. He connected a dozen CCTVs together, each with a surveillance camera positioned in every area he suspected she might frequent. The area she resided in, the office where she worked, and the woodland where she wandered in her Frenzied State... For her, seeing him again was a stroke of luck. For him, it was a meticulously considered chess move.

He granted himself permission to watch over and protect her from a distance. Every time Hydra caused trouble, he was the one who cleaned up the mess. Asteria believed she had thoroughly removed all evidence. However, because she had no recollection of her Frenzied State and relied only on her phone to track where she had been, she had left behind some clues. That was when he got involved.

His chess game appeared faultless. He would soon have complete power over Linkon's government. He would build a secure city for her, a place where praedators would have their own community, completely under the control of the political party he led. Hydra would be declared dead by then, and no one would dig up her secret again.

Caleb was willing to assassinate an opposition party member in order to achieve what he wanted. The politician's death was believed to be related to the praedatos. Ironically, the LCBI sent Asteria to investigate. She was accompanied by another enforcer. Their investigation lasted for months, during which many other praedator attacks across the city broke out. In a moment of negligence, Asteria let her colleague discover her secret. He confronted her, and she was enraged. 

“You… You really are a praedator! You fooled the LCBI, and all of us!”

In his hand was a spray that revealed any praedator's true self when they inhaled.

“No… I didn't… I don’t want this to happen…” She shivered, attempting to fend off the frenzy that was slowly taking over her mind.

“I’ve been secretly gathering evidence on you for months… Hydra! You can’t get away now!”

The enforcer lunged at her. But she was familiar with all of the LCBI equipment and how her colleagues fought in combat. She would not be captured that easily. In the struggle, she knocked him out at last.

“Go home, pip-squeak. I’ll take care of things for you.”

Caleb appeared out of nowhere, like a ray of light that she instantly stretched out to catch. He sent her back to the old watchtower. When she woke up, she had no recollection of any of it, while her colleague had been reported dead.

“Did I… Did I do it?… All I remember was going to the meeting place after that colleague asked to see me… After that, I'm not sure what else happened… Did I…”

Her tears fell. She buried her face in her hands, saying over and over again, “I’m a monster!”

“No,” he reassured. He drew her into his arms and rubbed her back, which was quivering from emotion. “You didn’t do it, pip-squeak. You’re not a murderer.”

For the true murderer was him. Anyone who knew her secret could only reveal it in their grave.

Asteria was devastated. Her Frenzied State continued returning, breaking the pattern that had always existed. She had no choice but to obey Caleb and remain in the watchtower, while everyone else assumed she was missing.

“I will take care of this.”

She only needed to rely on him.

“Pip-squeak, trust me…”

Back in the dark chamber where he had convinced her to stay, he kissed her hair as her head rested on his chest. Her frenzy subsided, leaving just an exhausted Asteria lying unconscious on top of him. Her fingers were still gripping the dog tag around his neck, which served as a reminder of the life she had forgotten. He slowly sat up, loosening the shackles that bound her and picking her up. He took her into the next room, where her comfortable bed awaited.

She trusted him, without a question, despite the fact that she failed to recall their past. She always knew he would do anything for her, and she was safe here.

He tended to every wound she had made while struggling with the shackles. She turned slightly. Her hands sought his and drew him closer.

“Stay… Caleb… Don’t leave me alone…”

He kissed her bleeding hand.

“I will always be by your side.”

V.

In her dream, she witnessed a Linkon without praedators. There, she and Caleb spent their entire lives together, never once apart. There, she was just an ordinary girl staying with the person she loved. When she opened her eyes, reality rushed in with the wind from the open window, carrying with it the familiar unpleasant smells of this place and the blaring sound of sirens.

She got out of bed and gazed at the usually deserted street below the watchtower. A crowd of people were dashing through the neighborhood. Sirens blared red across the block. Another strike occurred fairly near to the watchtower. 

Asteria could smell blood, and the scent of the frenzy was not coming from within her. The shattering and shouting were so close. She knew right away that she had to act. Caleb had removed her communications, but her guns and some LCBI supplies remained in the watchtower.  Carefully armed, she exited the building.

What she was doing may harm herself, reveal her whereabouts, and perhaps expose Caleb's scheme. Yet she could not abandon her neighbors to face the vicious praedators who had arrived without an invitation. She estimated how long it would take for the military and LCBI to come, and it might be a bit late. She chose to act alone.

On the way, she rescued a little girl who had been captured by a praedator. The child held her neck, constantly asking to be taken back to her family.

“Miss, can you take me back to my brother?… Please help me… I can’t find my brother anymore…”

And so she took the little girl’s hand and found a way back to her house. Fortunately, her brother noticed them. He hurried to embrace his sister and thanked Asteria for her kindness. They held hands and ran away after that.

If she and Caleb had found each other again back then, things would have been so different.

She might not have become Hydra. Whenever she went on a frenzy, he would have taken care of her. They would have just lived a normal life, only the two of them in the watchtower. His hands would not be drenched in blood for her.

Without Hydra, things would have been so much easier.

If they hadn’t been separated, if she hadn’t been subjected to countless experiments, if she hadn’t died and resurrected so many times…

If they hadn’t been separated, if she hadn’t been subjected to countless experiments, if she hadn’t died and resurrected so many times…

Those thoughts took over Asteria, rendering her heavy steps. Her head ached. Each scene of memories stained a dreadful crimson came back to her like a movie. They were not clear, but the emotions were so real that her entire body shivered in anticipation of the upcoming frenzy.

“No… Not now…” She whispered. Footsteps were approaching her. Asteria gripped the gun in her hand, alert.

“Are you lost, beautiful?”

The man appeared from the dark as he spoke. He was a praedator.

“Oh, an enforcer? But why aren’t you wearing an LCBI uniform? Where did you come from, love?”

Asteria did not respond to him. She leveled her gun at him, but everything around her began to spin.

“Not an enforcer, huh?… Wait... You are a…”

She heard him say it. Word by word. Praedator.

“No… I'm not…”

She wanted to deny it. She was just a human. She was an enforcer. She was Caleb’s pip-squeak.

“Looks like we’re the same kind. My group is just hanging out in the Southern District. Wanna join us?”

The praedator moved toward her. A moment later, so soon, she was seen walking out of the alley, leaving behind a corpse whose smile was still present.

She was a monster. Any attempt to deny it would simply make it worse.

Asteria departed the Southern District as soon as the LCBI arrived. She left behind the city of Linkon, where Caleb had promised her a home. She headed into the darkness, into the forest.

In the form of a praedator, she ran fast, she left everyone else behind. The more she ran, the more conscious she became. Perhaps this was who she truly was—a monster, a sinner.

Caleb would return to the watchtower and find out she was gone. He would be devastated. He would be broken again. Then he would pick up the pieces of his heart and move on, just as he had moved on after losing her before. She would disappear from his life once more, this time forever.

Little did she know, he had never ceased from being broken.

Even when he found her, even when she was in his arms, he was never completely healed. For she had forgotten him. Day after day, he held onto the hope that the new memories he made with her would outweigh the past, that they would fill the void in his heart. Yet every time she looked at him and failed to see the boy whom she had grown up side by side like a shadow, he was broken once more. The only thing he could do for her was to keep her from everyone who would hurt her; LCBI, Ever, or anyone else.

Then she drifted away from him, like a star in the sky that he could never reach.

He watched the red dot on his phone screen. He decided to miss an emergency meeting. Apparently, someone had dug up a significant amount of evidence against him. Yet, he did not bother to defend himself at the time. Asteria came first above anything else.

He sped after her trail on the screen. The red light flickered in the dense forest and then went dead. The tracker he had put on her was removed.

He would lose everything. He would lose her. Overcome with emotion and terror, he continued to search, and got to her before anyone else.

“Pip-squeak… Let’s go home.”

She was sitting on the edge of a cliff, where a large waterfall nearby poured silver moonlight into a deep abyss below. She turned to face him, smiling.

“You always find me, even when I threw away your tracker.”

“Of course.” He took a step toward her, offering his hand. “I’ll always find you, no matter where you run to. Let's get back now,” he repeated. “To our safe haven…”

“Safe haven? There’s no safe place. As long as I'm a praedator, there’s no place for me to hide…”

“You still have me, pip-squeak. You always have me!”

All of the emotions that had been building up over the years were about to burst. He wanted to embrace her and comfort her till everything was all right again. If she was not satisfied with the old watchtower, he would build her a new home. This time, he would ensure no one would ever find her again.

She slowly rose up to face him. She grinned.

“You should have let me die, Caleb. We should never have met again.”

Her sins would not vanish since she could not truly die. Perhaps this cycle of life and death was the most ruthless curse for someone like her. And she did not want to pull him down with her.

If only he had already considered her no longer existed in this world, wouldn't that be better?

There was the sound of helicopters approaching them, closer and closer. It was the LCBI. Soon, they would have the entire area surrounded.

Even as he stood on the edge, he stretched out to her with calmness. He had already calculated in his mind how to turn the tables; a series of lies to cover up the truth. With his current authority, he could help Asteria vanish from Linkon to a new life completely free of worries. Yet she did not see it the same way as him.

“I was planning to leave without saying goodbye,” she said. “I was planning to walk out of your life in silence. But it would be nice to see you one last time before disappearing. I… I really wanted to see you…”

The sound of footsteps on dry leaves was very close to them. There were about a dozen people racing in this direction. Caleb reached out to Asteria again, then softly spoke:

“Wherever you want, I will help you get there. Even if you prefer to be alone, I'll stop following you. You've always trusted me. What about this time? Let me handle everything for you.”

It was because he would destroy himself for her that she wanted to leave him forever. Asteria gave him a weak smile: “Thank you for always taking care of me…”

The footsteps became closer. The loudspeakers and sirens blended together. It was too late. He reached for her. But he failed to catch her hand.

“Farwell, my Caleb.”

She turned away and let herself fall into the tremendous waterfall.

Don’t go… Don’t leave me alone…

He watched her. Then he leaped.

“Caleb! Use your Evol to get me higher!”

“At your service! How far do you want to fly today?”

“Can you get me to the top of the watchtower?”

“Sure! But be careful or you'll tumble, pip-squeak!”

“I won't! I absolutely trust you, Caleb. Even if I fall, you'll catch me right away.”

She fell. In front of him. As when they were children, he used Evol to keep her suspended in the air, before his crashing body enveloped hers. She was astonished, yet she clung to him like she had done in the past.

If Asteria was no longer here, what was the purpose of the world he had designed for her?

There was no turning back. He, too, would leave everything behind, allowing them both to plunge into the cold, raging torrent that awaited them.

*

* *

In the following dawn, the entire city of Linkon was awakened by a series of frightening news reports:

…A warrant for the arrest of two individuals was issued last night.

…The SSS-level praedator Hydra has been identified as Asteria, a former LCBI enforcer. This is also the person who was reported missing during the investigation last week…

…Caleb, the councilman of the Northern District, is involved in the recent crimes. According to the most recent intel, he and Hydra are accomplices.

The two were last seen at Meteor Waterfall shortly after midnight last night. As of now, the investigation has not progressed further.

For your own and the city of Linkon's safety, please contact the LCBI hotline immediately should you have any information regarding Hydra and Councilman Caleb…

-The End-

[manias-wordcount]

Angel's Choice (Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi/Touya Todoroki)

Kinktober 2024 Day Fifteen: Cucking

𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

If you were to ask pretty much anyone, you were Shigaraki’s. 

That didn’t mean the rest of the League didn’t have their fair share of you, of course. They’re too insatiable to let you exist normally. Especially since you’re locked away in their compound where your only purpose is to heal injuries and pull your panties to the side whenever someone starts unzipping their pants behind you. So naturally, it seems like hardly a day goes by without someone putting their cock in your mouth. And you can always tell based on how a conversation starts whether or not you’re gonna be placed on someone’s tongue while being called Angel-Chan and being begged to spill some of your “precious nectar” for your “loyal followers.” Whatever that meant.

But there’s a reason why they stopped buying you clothes other than panties and hoodies with Tomura’s favorite characters and games on them after he had decayed everything that was stolen from your apartment. There’s a reason why when Tomura comes around, you’re supposed to stop what you’re doing and listen to him like some type of eager puppy. There’s a reason why your room is Tomura’s room and the arms you sleep in every single night belong to a man who could kill you if he so much as accidentally slipped a glove off one of his hands as he tossed and turned in his sleep. It’s because if you were to ask pretty much anyone, you were Shigaraki’s. 

But if you were to ask Dabi…

“You’re really gonna cum just by watching me fuck her? Pathetic.”

…he would just make sure you knew not to ask him such a stupid question ever again. Because you’re his. You’ll always be. He was the one who found you first, after all.

“Mmm…” You let out a weak sound at Dabi’s words, but it’s practically drowned out by the sound of skin slapping against your skin as Dabi pounds into you from behind. It was supposed to be the start of a sentence. A sentence that told Dabi not to antagonize Tomura so much. Unlike him, you’re not exactly built for combat. But you know Dabi wouldn’t care. And you know Dabi wouldn’t let you get away with such a thing either. So it’s a good thing you could barely speak right now.

And it’s a good thing Tomura is too wrapped up in watching you get fucked stupid to even care about what Dabi says to him.

Usually, he isn’t this placid when he sees you getting fucked. More often than not, you usually find him annoyed that someone had the same idea and he did and beat him to the punch or eager to join in and have one of your other holes for himself. But something was different this time. The Tomura you knew would have thrown a fit when he saw Dabi barge into his room and snatch you out of the bed. The Tomura you knew would threaten to kill anyone who dared burn your underwear off of your body and bend you over his own bed.  The Tomura you knew wouldn’t allow himself to be torn from his precious sleep only to be a willing participant- a willing watcher- in the way that Dabi indulges in you.

But the Tomura in front of you is staring at you with wide eyes and a fist wrapped around his cock. Pumping at it furiously and squeezing around the angry, red head as it aggressively leaked precum all over his hands and sheets. Almost like he’d die if he didn’t cum while watching Dabi fuck you into the mindless, submissive, little whore the League of Villians has conditioned you to be.

“Angel-chan… Need- angle-chan…” You could hear Tomura groan out the very nickname you’d grown to love and hate so much as his hips started to jerk and stutter. You can hardly keep your eyes open long enough to watch. But from what little you are able to observe, you know he really is close to cumming. Just from jerking off. Just from jerking off while watching some other man (one of his subordinates, no less) stick his cock inside of his precious Angel-chan. “Need angle-pussy…need it…need to- need to have it…”

“Freak,” Dabi barks out almost immediately at Tomura’s words. You couldn’t help your own reaction to his words either. The shiver down your spine was involuntary, despite being far too familiar with Tomura’s obsession with you. Even still, neither of them makes much of a move to address the other “You’ll get Angel's pussy when I’m dead. Just shut up and watch her take it.”

In front of you, Tomura starts to mash his teeth together and thrash violently. It looks something like the beginning of a meltdown. Something you absolutely hate to witness due to his sheer destructive and unpredictable nature. But even so, he doesn’t move too far from his original spot on the bed. He doesn’t reach out for you either. Nor does he reach out for Dabi. Not to push him off of you. Not to kill him either. It goes to show you that there is some level of restraint at the moment.

As much as you know you should hate him- hate both of them- you don’t like seeing Tomura like this. The (involuntarily-retired) nurse in you can’t stand it. You can’t stand the way Dabi’s chest is now leaning over your body either. Allowing him to fuck you deeper as he whispers words far too sweet and almost romantic to come from a murderer’s mouth. And allowing him to look directly into Tomura’s eyes while he tosses a few cruel taunts into the other man’s direction. Egging his boss to do something about the way he’s making you feel. Trying to get a rise out of his leader and remind him that Tomura isn’t the only one who has your affections. 

But even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything about it. You couldn’t do anything about the way Dabi bares his teeth and shows you off to the other man. You couldn’t do anything. To help. To hinder. Nothing. In fact, Dabi’s ironclad grip on your hips is the only thing keeping you upright at this point. Well, if you could even call this “upright” anymore. Your arms have long since given out on you- too worn and exhausted to even try to brace yourself at this point. But to Dabi, it’s perfect. This position is perfect. 

For both of them.

Dabi enjoys seeing your face from time to time, sure. He likes to make comments about how you screw your nose up and squeeze your eyes shut when you’re about to cum. He likes to kiss you deep and hard so he can save all your moans for him. It helps that keeping you quiet is one way to ensure he can keep you to himself at least a little while whenever he sneaks off with you. But he likes it even more when you’re face is pressed down into the mattress and your ass is up for him. He told you once that this position made him feel some sort of way. That you made him feel some sort of way. Like he was powerful. Like he was corrupting you. Like you were nothing more than just a set of tight holes and a pretty voice. 

At the time, you had a bit more of a fighting spirit. So you spat out that you were being corrupted. That you were being treated like nothing more than just a set of tight holes and a pretty voice. But Dabi didn’t like the way you said it to him. He didn’t like the sudden burst of attitude that he got. 

So in response, he just fucked you harder. Perhaps even harder than he is right now.

But Tomura? Tomura always liked being able to see you. To Tomura, your body was perfect. But it wasn’t because you had exactly what he wanted to stick his dick in, ready at any given moment. Your body was perfect because it was yours. Your boobs and ass were perfect not because they jiggled whenever you were being tossed around or put on all fours. It was perfect because it was attached to you. It was perfect because in whatever position he had you in when it was his turn to fuck you, he could watch them as much as he wanted. Only to turn his head a second later and look at the blissed-out little faces you would pull whenever you’re starting to feel a little too good.

However, that was only when he was in control. When he could set the scene. Because that’s when he could have you in any way he wanted without having to share you with the rest of his subordinates for “morale-boosting” reasons. 

So you thought for sure he’d hate this. You thought for sure he’d hate you see you whithering and moaning and whining and whimpering on some other man’s cock in front of him. Wearing one of his hoodies and gripping his sheets. Making a creamy mess of yourself and his bed as your wetness gets everywhere. Moaning a name that isn’t Tomura or Shigaraki or even Tenko in front of him. You thought for sure he would despise this. You thought for sure he would despise you for this. But…

“Gonna…gonna cum, Angel-chan…”

If he hated you, would he really be fucking his fist as hard as he was right now? If he hated you, would he be beating his dick and staring deep into your eyes and calling out your name right now?

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because after all the stunts you’ve pulled with him? After all the times you’ve tried to run or fight or disobey or even hurt him, Tomura still tells you that he loves you. Tomura still tells you that he needs you. He needs Angel-Chan. He needs her as much as he loves her. His Angel-Chan. His Angel-Chan. His Angel-Chan.

Who occasionally, yet always, belongs to Dabi too.

Still, you have a difficult time believing that the scene in front of you is true. Because right now, you’re crying out with every snap of Dabi’s hips- minding going blank at every thrust. You’re practically sobbing through your every moan and tightening up with every thrust. And now, your vision is blurry, and you swear Dabi has got you going cross-eyed with the way he keeps shoving himself inside of you and poking at your g-spot without so much as a care in the world. But Tomura? 

Tomura is just angling his cock in front of you as his fingers move up and down at lightning speed around him. Tomura is just begging for you to open your mouth- pleading with you so that you may catch some of his cum in your mouth. So you could make him happy. So he doesn’t feel like he’s losing you to some other man because he was too entranced at the sight of someone else roughing you up to put up a fight he knew he could easily win. And Dabi?

Dabi is fucking you even harder than before and challenging him so that he could make you cum before Tomura can even begin to smear his cum on your face. Because Dabi likes what he’s seeing. Dabi likes that you’re tightening up at the mention of a little less than friendly competition brewing between the two of them that hinges all on the moment that you finally cum. Dabi likes that the very same man who orders him around is rapidly turning into some sort of whiny mess right in front of him.

All because it’s Dabi whose cock is buried in the side of your perfect little cunt while Tomura is forced to fuck his fist instead.

But what could you do? What could you do when your every breath is stolen by thrusts that are too rapid and deep and perfect for you to string together a few words. What could you do when you have a quirk for healing physical wounds and a body worth creating new injuries and enemies for? What could you do when you know for a fact that you can’t decide between one or the other. You just can’t. 

Because they both think they own you. 

Because they both want you for your body. Because they both want you for your quirk. Because they both want you to be the little piece of softness waiting for them at the end of a long day. Because they both want you to be the little piece of heaven that proves they’re worthy of something villains never get. Worthy of something like love. Affection. Perhaps even happiness. But that’s all the more reason why you can’t decide between the two of them. That’s all the more reason why you can’t decide between one or the other. You just can’t. You can’t.

Not just because you don’t who you’re more scared of. Not just because you know all too well what they’re both capable of. But because you’re afraid you’ll have to face the cold, hard, ugly truth: the fact that you love them. The fact that you’ve come to love them. And that fact that you’ll inevitably come to love one of them more than the other. Because you will. One day, you will.

But for now, you’ll catch Tomura’s cum on your tongue and you’ll let Dabi fill your pussy with his cum until his balls, are nice and empty and drained. And then you’ll let them flip positions and start the process all over again. Over and over and over again. Because you won’t do anything to stop it. Because you can’t do anything to stop it. Because it’s better if you don’t.

If it means keeping the peace, it’s a small price to pay. If it means staying the course, it’s just a drop in the ocean. It means keeping yourself- keeping everyone- alive, you’ll do it. And you’ll do it well. It’s an Angel’s job save, isn’t it? So the very least you could do is save them from themselves. The very least you could do is save them from each other.

Especially since you no longer have the chance to save yourself.

[itsclydebitches]

Hazbin Hotel: Let's Talk About Cursing!

Trigger warning for lots of cursing in this post (obviously) and discussion of canon abuse scenes

As I delve further into the Hazbin Hotel fandom, I’ve inevitably come across a variety of people who dislike the show for an equal variety of reasons. One criticism I’ve seen with some consistency is in regards to the cursing and yeah, I get it. That’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. However, the repeated claim that the cursing is only there as a—failed—attempt at bad, lazy humor got me thinking about why I personally liked the cursing, and why I think it serves a greater purpose in the show.

Now yes, some of the cursing does function as an arguably simplistic joke. The most common setup I’ve noticed is one that leans into a contrast in tone/personalities. We see this a lot with the polite, comparatively timid Charlie as she navigates her distinctly vulgar domain.

Charlie: “Hi, mister!” Demon: “Go fuck yourself!”

The entirety of “Happy Day in Hell” plays with this contrast, setting up Charlie’s slightly skewed, but significantly optimistic perspective of Hell. We are shown again and again how her lyrics are contradicted or twisted into something less innocent through the visuals: a “revealing” street where it’s “hard not to stare” has BDSM going on in a nearby window, Charlie will “open the door” for her people and then literally does so... for a guy who’s already dead. (Or, you know, temporarily out of commission until he heals, or whatever demons do when they’re ‘killed’ by things other than angelic steel.) The entire point here is to contrast the happy, skipping girl claiming that there’s a “warm, fuzzy feeling” in the air with the actual environment of unchecked fires and decaying limbs. And yes, that can be amusing. Not necessarily for everyone as humor is highly subjective and dependent on context, but distilling this contrast down to the shock of a polite greeting getting a “Go fuck yourself!” in response is a kind of entertainment. Especially when Charlie’s reaction adds another layer: for me that’s a very funny—and currently relatable—expression.

We can potentially make the case that this humor format overstays its welcome, but I personally think the show does a good job of keeping Charlie’s cursing both simple and comparatively rare, so that when she is put into these contrast situations the humor lands better. The best example I can think of in the latter half of the show is Susan. There we get the whiplash of polite, trying-to-get-these-people-to-like-her Charlie reaching a breaking point to become “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH” Charlie. It’s a moment that builds off of the earlier surprise of the courteous Alastor calling someone an “Ornery old bitch”—while Rosie is trying (and failing) to find a nicer way to phrase this.

However, as stated above I think the cursing serves more of a purpose than to just be funny for (some) viewers. Beyond those who simply find cursing distasteful, I’ve seen a fair bit of, “This is so stupid. No one even talks like that!” going around.

Except... I do? I talk like that.

See, I like cursing. I was born to former hippie parents and grew up playing MMOs, so cursing was something I became pretty acclimated to. Personally, I’m glad I was because I’m fascinated by language and cursing—for better or worse—is an integral way that many people communicate. I was taught to see cursing not as the Bad Forbidden Thing You Must Never Ever Do, but rather as just another form of expression, something to be used in moderation and under specific circumstances. Once I became an adult I already understood how I wanted to curse and when it was appropriate to do so. People at work are often shocked when I tell them I curse a lot because no, of course I’m not doing that at my job. That isn't considered professional in this space. Among my friends though?

We can sound a lot like the Hazbin crew.

Undoubtedly the most common curse in the show is “fuck” and its variations, which very much tracks with my personal experience among other people who curse. In fact, it’s so ubiquitous that it barely counts as a curse at all in some groups. It’s more of an easy, accepted way to add emphasis. Vaggie’s “What the fuck was that?” about Alastor’s commercial is a perfect example. She’s pissed and simply saying “What was that?” doesn’t carry the same weight, no matter how angry she may sound when she says it. Vox’s long “Fuuuuuuuck” at the end of “Stayed Gone” conveys an emotion you just can’t capture any other way. No dialogue at all would create a fundamentally different experience of Vox’s feelings and another non-cursing response is just gonna hit different. Not necessarily bad, just different.

“I don’t want to go to the party!” “I don’t want to go to the freaking party!” “I don’t want to go to the fucking party!”

The above represents three distinct characters to me and I think Hazbin Hotel gets that. Cursing isn’t thrown around randomly because something something cursing supposedly sells; it’s all linguistically logical. Characters curse when something surprising or bad happens, or when something unexpectedly good happens, when they’re angry, trying to be sexy, or they want to add that emphasis. That’s a lot of different situations where cursing can be useful and when you use “fuck” in your daily life a lot you become pretty desensitized to it. As said, for many it’s barely a curse at all. Which means that when you really want to curse you’ve got to up the ante. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that the two uses of “cunt” I can recall—a word that is generally considered far worse than “fuck” and makes a lot of people understandably uncomfortable—is used by two of the worst characters in moments that are meant to horrify the viewer:

Adam: “Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts / I know it’s just been a week, but we’ll be back in six months!” Valentino: “When I say you’d better get that fucking cunt out of my studio, you say...?”

This horror is especially emphasized in Valentino’s scene. The creators know this word is coming up and deliberately build towards it. Angel is currently being abused and has been reminded that Valentino “owns” him. The above question is a part of a trio that Valentino asks (a standard structure in writing), wherein the third option is the outlier/most shocking of the three. The animation leans into that shock, with the music building and Valentino grabbing Angel to pull him close right on the word “cunt.” Perez even puts emphasis there because he knows that this is a significant word that will change our understanding of Valentino.

Despite having hit Angel multiple times and taunting him with the contract, this is the moment Valentino stops playing the ‘nice’ employer. This is the real him. No more fake compliments and endearments aimed at Charlie, no more fake comfort/intimacy aimed at Angel. That “cunt” conveys a hell of a lot about how Valentino really sees them and when you have a cast of characters who are already cursing on the regular, it takes a word on that level to do that kind of work. If Valentino had said, “get that fucking bitch out of my studio” it wouldn’t have had nearly the same impact because he’s the kind of guy who uses "bitch" even when playing ‘nice.’

Adam’s line from “Hell is Forever” does very similar work. The scene needs a word to align with the horrific reveal that another extermination is just six months away, that conveys Adam’s deep disgust for Charlie’s people, and that still catches the viewer’s attention even though he’s the character (I believe) who curses the most. Here the music drops and Adam is a little closer to speaking than singing; there's this shift because, like with Valentino, our perception of him is shifting. This isn’t just some egotistical idiot who wants to be called “Dick Master,” he’s the leader of an army coming to gleefully kill them. Framing a whole world of people—people Charlie loves—as “cunts” while treating their murder as a holiday that can’t come soon enough creates an, 'Oh shit. This guy is actually a threat' understanding that you can’t quite get with anything else.

On a smaller scale, cursing does other character work throughout the whole show. I watched a number of cursing compilation vids for this meta (that was a trip lol) and again, cursing is not thrown in randomly. Each character has a unique way of cursing that aligns with their personality and motivations:

As said, Adam curses the most in the show which helps sell his truly over-the-top, irreverent personality. Linguistically, the amount he curses also allows for some fun grammatical play. Lines like, “Fucking love putting my name on shit, shit’s the best!” help convey the versatility of cursing.

Also as said, Charlie curses a fair bit but she’s comparatively polite and her cursing tends to be a result of genuinely big emotions—like saying “Crap” when she’s shocked and falls, or “Shit!” when Adam locks her out of the room—rather than sprinkled into her conversations as a modifier. That leaves space to create those moments of amused surprise when Charlie really let’s loose.

Sr Pentious curses even less than Charlie which fits his secretly gooey center. He talks a big game at the start of the show, but he’s actually quite bad at being, well, bad (especially the Amazon version compared to pilot!Pentious). His idea of getting one over on Alastor is ripping a bit of his coat. He loves his Egg Bois and “doesn’t want to live” without them. He has no desire to go into battle without minions/a big machine to hide behind and, of course, he’s the first to be redeemed. He's too much of a secret sweetheart to curse a lot.

Interestingly, Niffty doesn’t seem to curse at all. At least, not enough for me to think of examples off the top of my head. Right now I’m inclined to read that as an extension of her lived experiences/design—the cute 1950’s housewife archetype who is obsessed with keeping things clean doesn’t [gasp!] curse—as well as a way to maintain her legitimate creep factor. As said, cursing is common among the hotel residents and is a way for them to linguistically fit in. Niffty, however, is positioned more as an outsider (despite how much they all obviously love her): she’s actually scary in a way most demons aren’t and despite how weird this whole world is, she stands out as someone no one else can make sense of (even Alastor). If cursing is normal, Niffty is a character who is decidedly positioned as not normal.

Angel curses a fair bit, though his irreverence is conveyed more through innuendos. Angel is great at verbally twisting others’ words (especially Husk’s) to give himself a conversational advantage:

Husk: “Go fuck yourself” Angel: “Only if you watch me~”

Husk: “You’ve come—” Angel: [very loud orgasm noise] Husk: “...to the right place.”

Meanwhile, Husk uses “fuck” plenty, but he’s also one of the few characters who use “bullshit" too. I wouldn’t say there’s anything particularly revealing about that choice, but just giving him a go-to curse that’s otherwise used infrequently helps make his character distinct in a cast of other cursing characters.

Vaggie occasionally curses in Spanish, showing us her heritage if she used to be human, or a distinct knowledge/verbal preference if she’s always been an angel.

Heaven, as the ‘good’ side, doesn’t curse as a general rule, which leaves room for cursing to do more of that silent character work. We’re reminded of the stuffy, overly critical beings she’s dealing with when Charlie receives the combined judgement of the court for saying, “Fuck yeah!” In contrast, we understand just how shocked St. Peter is to see a Morningstar when he lets out an unintentional “Fuck!” The angry vindication of Charlie’s “That’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!” lands harder after multiple scenes of very little cursing, and Lute’s “Some crack-whore who fucked up already? / He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth—” helps set her apart as an exorcist + Adam's second in command: her shocking violence comes through in her word choice too; words that supposedly don't belong in Heaven.

In what’s arguably the funniest line in the whole show, Lucifer undermines his dramatic standoff with Adam by going, “You mess with my daughter and now I’m going to fuck you.” Beyond just cutting the tension, that fits his bumbling, oblivious personality perfectly. Lucifer is crazy powerful and can absolutely wreck Adam. He also has none of the classy intimidation that, say, Alastor displays when he tries to convey that. This is a depressed himbo who makes ducks in his free time and settles on, “Hey, bitch!” when greeting his estranged daughter. Of course he’s going to accidentally turn a threat into a promise of sex.

Which finally brings me to Alastor, someone whose cursing is already understood well by the fandom. He’s characterized as manipulatively courteous, using manners to both hide his true nature and draw attention to his power—’You’re so beneath me I’ll just calmly sip my coffee and politely ask who you are, despite the fact that we've fought multiple times.’ This is a guy who calls people “My dear” and unironically insults them with the phrase “wacky nonsense.” So when he curses you can BET it’s gonna have an impact. It sure did for me. I had to pause the episode after Alastor’s first “Fuck you” because it was so shocking to hear that language from him. And that’s the point! The scene wants that reaction from the audience. The "Fuck you"s visceral anger contrasting the fake laughs he and Lucifer have been giving, the quick-fire exchange that’s suddenly cut short by Alastor’s choice of a direct insult, the fact that he’s officially dropping the polite veneer they’ve both been indulging in and raising the stakes before Charlie intervenes, the loss of the radio filter that otherwise demonstrates his control over a situation... all of it screams, ‘THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER MOMENT.’

"Fuck you” reveals that, for the first time in the show, Alastor is legitimately threatened by someone. Which makes sense given that, you know, Lucifer is the King of Hell. Cursing for Alastor isn’t normal, so when he does curse it’s going to reveal something about a guy who otherwise is obsessed with being unknowable. Having the King of Hell dismiss him is actually infuriating in a way Sir Pentious’ threats could never be and the exchange kicks off a rivalry that rattles Alastor in ways Vox’s never has. (Side note: is it any wonder people ship them? Character A making control freak Character B feel vulnerable is classic!) It’s no surprise to me than that the one other true curse we get from Alastor is, “I’m about to end your fucking life,” delivered to Adam who, like Lucifer, poses a legitimate threat and does end up beating him. I say “true” curse because calling Susan a “bitch” does similar work for him, but the takeaway is humorous rather than dramatic. It’s funny that the only people who can piss Alastor off enough to curse are the First Man/a powerful exorcist angel threatening his life, the literal King of Hell... and Susan.

So there’s a lot going on here, more than what many viewers might assume if they approach the show as just “stupid,” needlessly vulgar entertainment. As shown above, I don’t think the cursing is needless, especially given that, well... they’re in Hell. They’re sinners, supposedly the worst that humanity has to offer, so of course they're going to curse a lot. Does cursing mean you’re a bad person? No. Can you craft a hellish world that doesn't rely on cursing to convey a group's immoral nature? Sure.

Does it make sense that a writer would equate a sinful, irreverent cast with linguistic rebellion and would want to convey a certain vibe that, frankly, you just can’t get without dropping an F bomb?

Yeah, I think so. No one has to like that kind of creative decision, but it’s worth acknowledging it as a deliberate choice.

That’s all! Thanks for reading this fucking long post ✌️

[matchboxartist]

[SPOILERS FOR LIGHT NOVELS] i don't think Kunikida was ever okay

so i was rereading the light novels and... yeah i don't think Kunikida's okay. bear in mind that these were either set before the start of the anime or were set before the end of season 1, so things such as walking alone, cannibalism arc and decay of angels arc had NOT happened yet (stressing this point as much as possible). i've also included roughly when in the BSD timeline the light novels were set and which pages i found the information on.

LN1 (s1e6 and s1e7 - azure messenger arc)

is absolutely terrified of the dark - i'm specifying the dark here instead of ghosts, which he specifically mentions in the anime, because he says he doesn't believe in them. but all the same, he's definitely not (keep telling yourself that, honey) shaking and crying (pages 24 and 25)

even at age twenty is willing to let himself die to save the other hostages - it says in the light novel that he is in fact suffering the effects of the poison gas, and still tries to save them despite Dazai and Sasaki stopping him (page 29)

made sure he still wouldn't have been able to kill Dazai - despite holding Fukuzawa's orders in high regard they would go against his ideals, which is why he never brought the real gun with him (pages 76-78)

the entire ending, pretty much - he had to watch both Sasaki, who he cared about, and Rokuzou, who he raised like his own son, die. he couldn't understand that there was no other way to do things, but since we don't know how his ideal came to be (seriously, Asagiri? nothing at all besides a couple vague suggestions?) we can't exactly push this point much (pages 95-101)

LN3 (set between s1e1 and s1e2 - where the Agency are planning Atsushi's entrance exam)

has what can only be described as a panic attack at the mention of a bomb threat (pages 4 and 5)

starts describing increasingly dark and oddly specific methods of torture to use on Dazai, whilst panicking and trying to attack something that isn't there (pages 16 and 17)

Kunikida and Katai's Brilliant Days (set around s1e6 - first part of azure messenger arc, but by this point Kunikida had not watched Sasaki and Rokuzou die)

sounds terrified at the thought of being called useless (page 5)

anyway that's all i got for now, will update if i think of anything else

[w1nds0ul]

Have a little request :33. The DOA with a member who’s afraid of blood, I feel like it’d be interesting

Sure! Right below~ ( Little warning though, they might be a bit out of character..)

“ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘭oo𝘥𝘺．𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶? ”

𝘋𝘰𝘈 [ 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘴 ] 𝘟 𝘎𝘕！𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥．

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ；𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴，𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶／𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳，𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧．

𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘔𝘚 ；𝘏𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢 － 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥.

Дорогой — Darling (Russian).

－ 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘮𝘢

• When you two went on a mission together, he was pretty confused and concerned on the fact that everytime he shot someone and blood splattered on you or him or anywhere for that matter, you started to freak out.

• Of course, he managed to calm you down. But that didn’t explain why you panicked or what even caused you to feel that way. Was it the gun or the sound of the gun? Maybe it was you seeing a corpse? All of these questions echoed in his head, and he wanted (needed) them to be answered so he could help avoid the issue in the future. So he decides that this will be talked about as soon as you get home, and he WILL be focused on that topic whole day because he’s worried something might be wrong with you, and you’re too precious to lose.

• Once you tell him that you have hemophobia, and get bothered when you see blood, everything started to click. Even this didn’t seem like a big deal to you, it became one to him. After all, he wants you to enjoy yourself, even during missions.

• Sigma understood that blood can traumatize people and cause them to have a negative reaction to it and he was fine with it, but what worried him was that since you are a member of the Decay of Angels, the job can have a lot of bloody work and preventing you from being upset from the sight/thought of blood could or would be inevitable.

• To carry out with his plan, he does some extra research on the phobia particularly just so he can clearly understand it, as well as using his ability by touching you to find out if you have any more phobias. ( in case he hasn’t already use his ability on you. )

• Sigma tries to come up with something to help you do your job without any problems, ranging from him doing the bloody work and having you look away, or maybe you can work behind the scenes rather than being on foot and having to deal with killing people or watching people get killed. He even talks with Fyodor and Nikolai in which Fyo responds brutally, calling you unworthy of being a DoA member. On the other hand, Nikolai wants to try to help you on feeling comfortable. But since Nikolai is Nikolai, it’s a good chance he’ll also call you make fun of you and weak for being afraid of blood.

• Absolute sweetheart and supportive unlike the others in the group, even fascinated that hemophobia is even a type of phobia. If you want to tell Sigma why you have that phobia, he’ll listen closely and comfort you if you happen to cry while explaining the reason. Overall, Sigma deals with you very nicely with someone who has hemophobia.

Sigma leans against a wall, breathing heavily after fleeing a bloody scene from earlier. You didn’t know what had happened back there, but you did hear some screams and gunshots. Who would’ve thought that Sigma was deadly and cute. “ I hate missions like this. I'd rather be up working on the sky casino than this. ” He mumbles under his breath. You felt shakened up from before and he could tell, telling from your legs shivering. “ Is everything okay? I hope nothing scared you. ” A worried tone says to you. “ I’m fine. I didn’t see any blood or something but I’m just… shaken up from that. ” You replied.

“ Understood, I hope the method we chose eased your trigger. If you need anything, I’m at your call. ” Sigma fixed his posture and walked up to you, putting your hands in his. His eyes showed gentleness and warmth.

“ I talked with the other members, and they will try to fix a position for you to not be around blood. ”

－ 𝘍𝘺𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳

• Fyodor probably either knew you had a phobia of blood, or just didn’t at all. Safe to say, he took the information and used it to his advantage.

• He listened to you explaining your hatred or fear for blood, beginning to laugh halfway through the explanation. You were confused on what was so funny, until he told you that you were weak as hell for that and you aren’t really worthy of being a Decay of angels member.

• Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re stronger than an average human/ability user. But blood? Yeah no, you’re going to see that anytime you go on a mission with him— And you always accompany him on missions, whether you like it or not.

• Thinks you need some training in learning how to deal with blood. This training is harsh, usually having you watch him take out a target with his ability, then ordering you to stay there and endure the sight of blood. His eyes watch your every move and expression as you begin to panic.

• Fyodor threatens to force you to watch him kill someone if you get out of line. As long as you follow his every order and not be a brat, you won’t have to go through anymore psychological trauma.

• But there are times where you bawl your eyes out from the sight of blood, and sometimes (rarely) Fyodor offers you to sit on his lap and calm down once you both are at home. Stroking a hand up and down your back, it’s a sugarcoated action and his voice an be sweet like honey. But since Fyodor is… what he is, this is to only make you come back for more and become obedient to him.

• If he unfortunately happens to be in a bad mood, and you also happen to be triggered, he won’t beat you psychically but will hurt you with his words, going on and on about how pathetic you look crying about something humans have daily and that some people have it worse.

• Though he ‘apologizes’ through touches right after though and will gaslight you. Saying that he didn’t mean it and that you’re such a snowflake.

• If it makes you feel any better though, Fyodor finally decided that your phobia is permanent and irreversible. Therefore he will no longer let you go to missions and might just have you stay home since you’re supposed to be a housewife/husband for him anyways. You’ll usually have Ivan watch you, and if you happen to accidentally see blood, he is quick to distract you and cover your eyes.

You sat in front of him, teared up and sobbing.“ Stop crying Дорогой, it was just a small injury. ” Fyodor spoke up with a smug look on his face, wrapping his hand in bandages. You were in a vulnerable state and he admired how you trusted him during a time like this, so he suppose he could help his precious angel. You try to stop the tears from forming and fall down your flushed cheeks and was successful. Once you calmed down, Fyodor sighed softly in a bit of irritation. “ I came up with a solution with your illness— ”

“ It isn’t an illness, Fyo. ” You corrected him. He obviously didn’t like that, and it was evident on his face. “ Don’t speak unless I tell you to. You know what happens when you’re a brat, yes? ” He warned. You cross your arms as a response. “ As I was saying. I came up with a solution. You will be staying with Ivan now and any mission there is where it doesn’t involve death, you will do. Understand? ” Fyodor asks. You nod.

“ I still don’t understand why a little bit of blood can invoke fear in one. You really are an odd one. ”

－ 𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘪

• When you first told Nikolai, he just asked an overwhelming amount of questions about it.

• Honestly really intrigued and proceeded to tell some phobias of his own. Even if this thing was about you only.

• He kinda wants to help but also wants to prank the hell out of you with it, which he usually does.

• Sometimes Nikolai would say that the mission you two are going on is a rather tame one, involving no blood. But once you two go on the mission and end up have some ‘ company ’, he smirks and asks “ things are going to get a bit bloody, you’re fine with that right? ”

• Not funny, didn’t laugh and he could tell you didn’t find that funny. Always apologizes if he does that even if he did it unintentionally.

• Comforts you if you just so happen to freak out or get sick when seeing blood. Loves seeing your pretty tears, even if your upset, sometimes it makes him want to reward you.

• tries to talk to fyodor to make you not go on too dangerous missions, because he thinks that if you fight with some thugs or whatever, you’ll see blood from a injury or corpse and freeze up, causing you to be killed by who ever you’re fighting. And since Fyodor and Nikolai are… friends… then Fyodor tell him to do whatever he thinks fit.

“ Oh how sensitive you are, doll. It’s adorable to me. ” Nikolai smirks as you cling on to him, a person Nikolai just killed laying in a puddle of their own blood. You didn’t feel too good seeing this and he could tell, therefore cupping your cheeks and having you look at him. “ Come on now, it’s just a corpse, breathe. ” Nikolai chuckled, before placing a kiss on your lips. That seemed to have calmed you down and he did it again, and again and once more.

“ You are just so desperate for my kisses, aren’t you? ”

I love how sigma is the only normal one out of the bunch…😭

[nxathyx]

nicknames

Pet names I think bungo stray dogs characters would use for their s/o

Armed Detective Agency

Atsushi Nakajima

°I feel like he'd usually just call you by your name or a nickname

°like if your name is Natalie or Nathaniel definitely would call you Nat or Nath (this is just an example)

°also something simple like "Angel"

°he says you're like a guardian angel and keep him stable

Dazai Osamu

°probably belladona or shorter versions of that like Bella or Dona

°would definitely call you cringe pet names just to laugh about it with you like "hey pookie bear😍😍" (I hate myself)

°maybe an occasional darl or baby

°I feel like he'd call you doll as well (he stole it from Chuuya)

°pretty girl/boy I don't know why

°I don't know I feel like he uses pet names as satire and prefers using your actual name or your nickname

Kunikida Doppo

°this man does not use pet names, like I can't imagine him saying anything

°maybe dear, I don't know what else though

Ranpo Edogawa

°I also don't think he's into pet names

°I don't know like he'd be too lazy to make something up for you

°also just sticks to your name/nickname/Diminutive

°the same as Atsushi except he'd also use "Nathy" (just a random name example)

Tanizaki Junichirou

°BRO HE GIVES ME DISCORD KITTEN VIBES AND I DON'T KNOW WHY...

° "hey kitten😻😻, get on bed wars you're making Daddy angy👿👿

°also uses your name the most probably

°an occasional "lovely"

Yosano Akiko

°probably "love" or a simple "hun"

°either that or your name/nickname

°probably randomly comes up and is like "hey gorgeous/handsome"

Edgar Allan Poe

(putting him here cause I don't know over half of the guild and won't write for them he's also basically an agency member at this point)

°probably darling, dear, sweetheart

°idk he just gives of the vibe

°but I think he'd also prefer just your regular name

Port Mafia

Chuuya Nakahara

°darling

°dear

°baby

°doll

°I don't know why but he'd use Spanish nicknames, like mi amor, mi vida, cariño, mi cielo, mi corazón

°maybe princess/prince

°pretty boy/pretty girl (especially if you're trans and have really bad dysphoria)

°also really like using your name, just plain and simple

°lovely

°my love

°maybe dove

°wifey/hubby

°definetly called you a bitch before

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

°he thinks it's cringe

°once he called you dear and amor (he learnt it from Chuuya)

°just sticks to your full name

Tachihara Michizo

°he gives me "babe" or "bae" vibes and I don't like it 😭

°definetly a "sweetheart" guy

°probably princess/prince as well

Gin Akutagawa

°probably "sweetie"

°other than that I doubt they'd use anything

Higuchi Ichigo

°honey

°your name

°darling

°honey

Koyou Ozaki

°darling/darl

°dear

°honey

°sweetie

*sweetheart

Decay of Angels

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°malyshka

°dear

°doll

°my only one

°he uses those very rarely though and prefers to use your name

Nikolai Gogol

°he calls you something silly

°"hey my gorgeous tampon wrapper"

°like huh😧😧

°uses dove as well

°my free space in bingo 😻😻

°I don't fucking know Bro😭😭

°he probably called you his discord kitten once as a joke In front of Fyodor and Sigma (they're scarred now)

°also the same as ranpo just your name/nickname/Diminutive (prefers nicknames and diminutives)

Sigma

°my love

°darling

°angel

°sweetheart

°just your full name as well

°definetly called you a saint before

Bram Stoker

°I don't think he'd use nicknames

°I don't know Bro is a vampire

°my little vamp vamp🤭🤭

Hunting Dogs

Tetchou Suehiro

°angel

°dear

°sweetie

°he'd definitely call you hubby/wifey

Jouno Saigiku

°bastard

°idiot

°dumbass

°(how romantic)

°I think he'd rather just use your name honestly aquífy

[rae-pss]

Hello again rae! So I just saw that you read my ask about my think in chap 5 in whb. And I am so happy we have thing in common so here I give you some another imagine of whb self aware idea for you. Since I think about it long enough and want to share it with you. ( Just take you time to have a idea to writing about this content , I will be waiting 😄 ).

Just imagine that we ( the reader ) found out a way to control the mc in a short or long moment or talk through the mc body.

- Everytime sitri call the mc (Ra-on) solomon ( own sexy pewpaw , I can't lie the fact that he so beautiful , no wonder god like him ). the reader will be like ' I will find a way to control the mc to make them ignore him or make him cry on his knee to apologize and call out the MC's name correctly '.

- everytime the seraphim attack the hell or even talk nonsense about kill the mc or enything about god the reader will be like ' no wonder why god leave you all , because you all are so annoying and dumb '.

- ( Like I say in another ask about bully leviathan ) in his H-scent , the moment he talk shit about minhyeok and say human are weak then the reader like ' fuck this , I will teach you lesson ' control the Mc body and then dominant him back like choke him by the whip he give them and then choke him hard until he almost faint then I will stop. And no is not done yet. Is the mc not dominant the hell out of him then the reader will do it , until he beg for more and I will stop and get out of there leave him like that as a pay back. ( cockblock him make him so close to cum and then leave him like that ).

And that all what I want to say. And feel free to use my imagine is one of it make you have a idea to write , I even happy is you do ☺️😄🤔

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . shout out to the inspiration i suddenly got to do sitri and levi' parts. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 944 words, first it's sitri, then gabriel, and lastly leaviathan. mentions of the word cock and choking (character receiving) in levi's part since it has a little smut (?).

how you achieved that was something that not even you could understand. was there even a way to do it? well, the existential questions could wait for another time, now you had to take advantage of every damn second that fate had given you.

you couldn't waste this opportunity to talk to your beloved characters.

the walk seemed very normal for the blue-stranded demon, one more of the many that sitri had taken with his beloved solomon since his recent return. how much he missed those moments of quiet peace when it was just him, solomon, and their precious heartbeat.

—how are you feeling, sol-?

the demon didn't even have time before one hand grabbed the black cravat (handkerchief) of his shirt and then pulled with force, thus making his eyes come face to face with solomon's. and, once again gaining on him in time, they spoke loud and clear.

—call me by that dead man's name one more time and you'll end up crying on a street corner, ignored by me until the day I decide to forgive your sorry ass.

their eyes seemed to shine with a unique intensity. it was certainly similar to how satan's eyes did when someone alluded to his lack of height; however, something about them appeared different. it wasn't the usual way their irises looked, now they felt more… more alive.

regardless, a few seconds later their hand left his garment as quickly as they had first grabbed it. their expression showed some stupor, but sitri decided to disregard it for the moment. maybe the influence of his king was harming his beloved sol- his beloved ra-on.

no one could say exactly how many times they had already met, nor was it so crucial to know the number. not when, once again, the Seraph was flying over a devastated and decaying gehenna, looking down from the sky at the destruction he and his angels had brought to the kingdom of wrath.

despite the initial pleasure that such sights brought him, his smile was erased from his pale face when his eyes fell on the figure of a certain human.

"that damn descendant of that dead man..."

with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw already clenched, gabriel pointed the blade of his scythe at them.

—how annoying it's... you foolish human being still alive.

and, as usually happened in each of his meetings, not very pleasant ones to whoever had to listen to the white-haired angel, he began to talk and talk about his love for god, about how everyone who wasn’t in heaven were beings unworthy of being alive, of how god will return, of how he should kill them in an instant... in general, he began his long monologue with himself out loud.

—no wonder why god left you all, i mean, you’re so annoying.

that was as if a drop of water had fallen on his head. some words that he never expected to hear from that human's lips. a simple phrase that awakened every desire to end their pathetic existence once and for all.

—you, insolent child!

he could say little more when, as usually happened, the demons made an appearance and the battle started once more.

the day he had them in his hands... that day gabriel would make them pay for having dared to say such things, about him and his dear god.

this was new. it was the first time in his long existence as king that someone had left him in such a miserable state without even hesitating twice. so renewed was it that, even there leviathan was still lying on the ground with his right hand on his neck, caressing the irritated skin, and his cock standing proud waiting for any release.

not long ago he was with that descendant of solomon, that peculiar human, helping them with the dose of demonic essence they so much needed to stay alive down there. although, he thought he’d give it to them in his way.

what he never expected from such an excuse of a being was that they’d use his tactics against him so naturally.

it was the exact moment in which their gaze became more intense, their fist tightened the handle of the whip and, with a sigh escaping past their lips, they took a few assertive steps forward until, without even thinking about it, they wrapped the rope around his neck. and tightened the material.

seconds were what leviathan needed to notice how the air disappeared agonizingly from his lungs, how the little oxygen in him vanished after the oppression of the whip around his neck.

—don't think you can go around saying those things like it's nothing.

the human commented fiercely, letting themselves sit comfortably on his lap without any problem. the force they used on the object increased and decreased depending on how blue they noticed his face. yet, some other color also dared to be seen on his cheeks.

—this excites you, doesn't it? 

they spat hatefully, squeezing the ends of the whip harder, they let the demon beneath their body writhe in a mixture of the most lascivious of pleasures and the most tortuous of agonies. all of this would have been better if they hadn't noticed his hardened member twitching underneath their crotch.

—pathetic that you get so eager when being choked... as pathetic as only you could be.

from there, everything became a blurry memory for him. a memory blinded by the balance of passion and pain that ended once they had their fair fun with him. to then, leave him there on the floor like the waste they remarked him he was.

[frightenedcricket]

Decay Part 1: The fall.

Noah Sebastian x OC. Angst.

Summary: Noah and Abby's friendship starts trembling when Abby develops unhealthy habits. No one knows why, no one dares to ask, but everyone is scared.

Notes: this is fiction. It's long af so I will make it a multi part thing

Warnings: themes like alcoholism, alussions to S. A. (it doesn't happen), self-destructive behaviors are touched in this fic. Read at your own discretion.

He didn't know where or when it started. But he was alert whenever she was around. They all had seen her decay in the past weeks and it was obviously taking a toll in them. But it was Noah the one worrying the most.

Abby wasn't one to tell anyone her problems. Not even Noah. She didn't want to be a weight on anyone's shoulders. She had told them when she had broken up with her partner. They knew about the impact it had on her and how she needed to stop touring for a few weeks. But that was it. That was the further they knew about her fears and personal life. They didn't know how recently her mind had been plagued by those thoughts... She was hurting herself, her own mind playing games, and no one truly know. They didn't see more than they joyful friend getting wasted night after night.

They were in a random gas station. The bus needed to stop and they had just left the city. It was past 3 am and they were all tired.

Noah left the public restroom he had just washed his teeth in and looked around. It was dark and kind of misty. The bus was only a few meters away. He could see the lights and also some of the guys moving inside. But as soon as he started to walk in that direction, he heard a group of three men talk.

"Yeah, there's a chick in there." He stopped walking and turned in the most discreet way he could. They were next to a truck smoking. "And she was pissed drunk"

Noah felt cold. They were talking about her. Abby had drunk too much. It was kind of a habit right now, that was what had them worried.

"I'm sure she is easy to convince" Another one said.

"My house is right down the road"

"No way we are taking her to your house, dude! I'll drive down there and then we can bring her-"

The door opened and Noah tensed. The three men turned to her, they hadn't seen Noah standing there or didn't care about him. One of them started to walk, but Noah moved faster.

"Babe! Here you are. I though you were already in the bus"

Noah took long steps to her and pulled her closer to his body. The three men froze.

"Let's go" He muttered when she clinged into his waist.

"Yeah... I'm a bit dizzy" She muttered. "You called me babe"

Noah's heart wanted to come out of his chest. Yeah, he could fight, he was big and well trained. But those men were three and he didn't know if they were armed. Plus by how they spoke... If he had walked to the bus... He pulled her closer and kissed her head.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Folio was smoking outside the bus.

"Hey, Folio. Do you have some..."

"No, he doesn't"

Noah and Nick shared a look.

"Let's go inside and you can go to sleep" At least she had her sweats and hoodie on. They wouldn't need to get her out of her work clothes.

"Oh C'mon. I'm fine"

Noah had to help her to get on the bus. With a loud sigh, she let herself fall on the sofa. "I will sleep here, okay?"

"Abby..."

"I get dizzy in the bus"

"You wouldn't if you didn't drink like that" Matt groaned.

"Matt" Noah didn't need to say more. His stern gaze made everyone shut up.

Noah ended up sitting with her because once the bus started moving she got worse.

The next day, she was still sleeping there when the others came back from having breakfast. Luckily, tonight they had hotel rooms.

"Abby?"

"Mhm... My head..."

"Yeah, I brought you painkillers."

"You are an angel"

Noah sighed and moved her hair out of her face. Abby stared into his eyes for long seconds. She loved them. So dark but so sweet and warm. She wished for that pain in them to wash away.

"You stayed last night?"

Noah shook his head. After a while his neck had started hurting and he moved to his bunk. He wanted to take care of her, but it was starting to consume him.

"Oh" She wouldn't admit she wanted him to stay. That was the last thing she wanted to do because it would only make it worse.

"Get ready, okay? We have the soundcheck in an hour and Dierkes is not happy"

She nodded.

The thing was that, with all her problems, she still showed up everyday at work, on time and gave the most of her. It was on her free time when she did all the damage.

During the day, Abby was her usual loving shelf. She was there for everyone, she seemed happy.

Soundcheck was smooth. They didn't have mayor problems.

"Movie night?" Noah said during lunch.

"Oh yes! There is this new one... Fuck. I don't remember the name" Folio started talking about the film, but Noah's eyes moved over to where Abby sat. She was on her phone, not paying much attention. He felt something on his chest. She used to love movie nights.

She didn't make it to watch the movie.

"And Abby?" Noah cautiously asked when the last one of the guys arrived.

"Uh..." Nicholas cleared his throat. He had been there for a while already, but didn't have the guts so say it. "She has a date"

Noah frowned.

"A date? We got here yesterday"

"Tinder" The bassist muttered.

Noah's humor switched completely. He tensed and his expression turned icy.

"Noah" Bryan grabbed his shoulder, but he moved away.

"It's fine. Turn that film on"

The next morning, when Jolly was leaving his room for breakfast when Abby stumbled out of the elevator. The man groaned and quickly moved to her.

"Hey"

"Where were you?" Jolly was cold, probably too much because she flinched a bit.

"With a friend" Abby muttered. Her mind kept running around the things that had happened. She wanted to shower.

Jolly didn't tell Noah about the encounter, but he told everyone Abby was already on her room. They sighed in relief. Noah felt the tension leaving his shoulders. At least she was back. The men from the gas station hadn't left his mind for a second.

It was the first time she was late for work. But again, she did everything good. She was only a bit slower than other days.

"Are you okay?" Noah asked. She had lifted a box and had groaned.

"Yeah... I didn't expect it to be this heavy"

Noah nodded. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale. She had tried to hide it with make up but it didn't work.

"Uh... Sorry for not going last night" I'm the bottom, Abby was fully conscious of her actions. She knew what she was doing, she knew that it was hurting Noah. But in those moments, fear and anxiety washed over her and she simply couldn't stand being there.

The signer shook his head.

"It's okay. It was awful anyway" He didn't want to give her a excuse, a reason... But he didn't want to admit that he hated her last night, that he hated she was there with some random dude and had skipped movie night for sex. He didn't want to be that person. He didn't want to be jealous.

"Folio, right?"

Noah nodded and she laughed softly. That was like a present on Christmas.

But Noah's mind keep turning over the same spot. He needed to keep her close. To keep an eye on her. But he didn't know how. He felt this urge to protect her from the world.

"Man..." Matt sat next to him after the show. They had gone to have a couple of drinks in a bar and Abby already had her first beer. "It's not healthy"

"I know, I just don't know how to tell her-"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about you. We all know that whatever she is doing it's not healthy"

"About me?"

Noah frowned. The manager nodded slowly. "You are not yourself."

"Well, I'm worried. You know why" He had tried to be subtle about it and keep it a secret. But he had already told more people than he could count with his hand. He was head over heels for her. He was for a long time.

"Noah... You don't have to save her"

Noah looked away. It was like cold water. Something he already knew but didn't want to be told.

"I have been in bad places too, Matt. I want to help her, she can't do it alone"

"But it's not your responsibility, okay? She is our friend. We can help her, but we... You can't do it for her"

Noah ran his hands over his hair and looked for her. The groan was loud.

Abby was standing there with a man and his hands were dangerously low. She took a shot and the man grabbed his cheeks harshly. Noah couldn't tear his eyes off them. He kissed her and Noah felt nauseous.

"Noah"

"Yeah" Finally, he leaned back against the chair and look at Matt. "It's hurting me"

Well, his therapist would be proud.

Nicholas found them on the table and sat, instantly feeling the tension.

"Is this about..."

"Yeah"

Nicholas, being the best friend, flesh and bone, the guy who had been there for so long, leaned forward on the table.

"I know you are in love with her. It's not easy for me to see her doing this, I can't imagine for you... But it's not healthy... Are you even happy?"

Noah looked down at his hands. Suddenly, the tattoos that covered them for years were the most interesting thing in the world.

"No..." He was happy touring, with the band, his job. All of that was everything that he ever wanted. But now there was a dark cloud that would let him see all of those good things he had.

Unconsciously, his eyes moved to her but she wasn't there. The anxiety grew on his chest as he got up.

"She was with- I have to go"

"Noah, no"

They couldn't stop him. When he stepped outside, the air was way colder and humid than when they arrived. He heard her laugh and looked to the right. She was with that man next to a car. He took mental notes of everything he could, and last but not lest important, wrote the plate number on his phone. Then, he knew he shouldn't, but he did it any way.

"Abby!"

Her face turned to him and she smiled. His heart broke even more.

"Hey! Noah!"

He causally walked to them, making eye contact with the man.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh... With Harry" She couldn't stand looking into his eyes. There was somthing turning on her stomach.

"We leave early tomorrow"

"Uh"

"Who is this, flower?"

"This is Noah" She said while looking at him. There was something on her eyes he couldn't read. "A friend"

Noah felt his heart clench. He wasn't just a friend.

"W-we leave early tomorrow"

Abby seemed to think about it. They would leave at 8.30 am.

"Yeah, I... Uh... I'll try to make it."

"No, you have to be there"

Abby bit her lip and Harry scoffed.

"Dude..."

Noah shot him a look and he rolled his eyes.

"Listen. If I'm not there at 8... I'll send you my location as soon as we arrive at his. Just come and pick me. He lives down the road."

Noah felt a sour taste on his mouth. He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want her to be alone.

"Okay" He said defeated.

He watched them leave, feeling how he was loosing her more and more each night that passed.

When he came back, they were all in the table.

"She left."

"Dude, we leave early tomorrow. Why did you let he-" obviously, Matt didn't like the idea of a crew member spending the night out when they had an early morning. But Noah didn't want to hear any of that.

"Stop with that bullshit" He cut him while he sat. "You can't tell me it's not my responsibility but then give me shit for her leaving"

Matt went quiet.

"Noah, you can talk to us."

And Noah let himself go. He spoke for minutes.

"And... The other night at the night station... There were these men... They wanted to hurt her. They were talking about taking her somewhere and... How drunk she was..."

Everyone in the table felt guilty. Abby was their friend, but even when Noah and her had a different bond, they were all together in this. They had left Noah carrying with her and her problems for too long.

"Noah..."

"I feel... I'm scared because she gets pissed drunk every night and leaves with someone else... And I'm scared something happens to her and I'm not there like I was in the gas station. If I had left the restroom a minute earlier I wouldn't have heard them and... "

"Hey, no. But you were there" Nicholas said.

"I'm not there now"

They all went quiet.

"Maybe it's time to talk to her" Folio muttered. "I miss her"

Everyone looked at the drummer.

Those words sounded on everyone's minds for the whole night. Eventually, they went back to the bus and to sleep. But with every little sound, Noah would wake up thinking she was already there. She was back. But she wasn't. The morning came and her bunk was empty. 7.30 am.

Noah was sitting outside with Nicholas and Bryan. The morning was fresh but nice. It was sunny and it warmed their cold cheeks. They were quiet, all of them thinking the same.

"Hey" Bryan muttered.

Away and walking slow, a figure was getting closer. Noah straightened his back and fisted his hands.

"She doesn't seem drunk" Bryan muttered.

Matt walked down the bus too.

As soon as was close enough to see her properly, Noah got up.

"Abby"

There was make up under her eyes and her hair was tied in a messy bun. He wondered if she had seen herself, if she had even checked a mirror.

On the side of her neck, there were various purple marks. But it didn't worry Noah. What worried him was pink shade of her cheek and marks over her throat. Those were definitely not love bites.

"Abby, what happened to you?"

Everyone else was frozen.

"Nothing" She wasn't drunk this time. But she couldn't look at him. "What are you talking about?"

Abby wanted to go inside and wash herself. Then, she would just hide in her bunk until they arrive to the next city.

"Abby, have you seen yourself?"

Noah tried to reach to her but for the first time ever, she moved away. Noah felt lost. That was it, right? The end.

"Noah, I'm perfectly fine. Mind your own business"

Nicholas stood up ready to cut that as soon as needed.

Noah's blood was boiling. He was so done.

"Perfectly fine?" He grabbed her jaw and arm and she closed her eyes. But it didn't feel like last night. Noah was careful. He was furious but still grabbed her with so much care. "Has someone hit you? Abby, this is serious. This are finger marks..." His thumb moved over the marks on her throat.

She was on the verge of tears, but she wouldn't give him that. She wouldn't give them the pleasure. She didn't want an I told you so. So she did what her mind told her it was the best. What she had been doing recently. She pushed things a bit more. She pushed them closer to ruin.

"What? Haven't to heard about hard sex before? Haven't you ever slapped a girl with your cock in her mouth? Didn't think of you as the vanilla guy, Noah"

The smile on her face made him want to vomit. This wasn't his Abby.

"Go inside, Abby" Nicholas put some distance between them. He was done with these bullshit. "Wash yourself. We leave soon"

Noah's hands fell to his sides. He was tired. He wanted to sleep for hours. He wanted to scream and hit something. He was exhausted but full of energy. There was a hurricane of thoughts in his mind. These marks, her smile, her hurtful words... They way she didn't seem to care about anything. He was tired of it all. He was getting tired of her.

Abby closed the door in that small cubicle they called toilet. With a look in the mirror she started crying. She felt awful, tired, dirty; she hated her guts, she was full of rage; she was purposefully destroying the best thing she had only because she was feeling things she couldn't deal with. It was overwhelming.

Maybe what Noah and Abby had was just a friendship. But years of touring together had developed a bond like no one else's in the whole crew. Noah only had eyes for Abby and Abby couldn't go through the day without Noah.

"Abbs" Folio's sweet voice made her stop crying.

"Yeah"

"Are you-"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry".

Folio leaned against the door. "We are all here for you"

She covered her mouth and silenced a sob.

"Just... Take your time. We'll be outside, okay?"

As soon as Folio left, she was her face and hid on her bunk. She wasn't brave enough to face anyone - specially Noah -, so she chose to leave that for Future Abby.

The pre-show was tense until Abby left the green room to go to her designated place. Then Noah seemed to relax a bit without her presence around.

They hadn't even look at each other in the whole day. Which everyone understood. They didn't want to pick sides, but everyone admited to be more on Noah's.

The show was good, apart from the signer forgetting the lyrics a couple of times. It had nothing to do with his eyes meeting Abby's. Nothing.

There was not a post show. They decided to crash on the bus.

But it was suffocating. Noah wouldn't look at her. Matt was cold. Nicholas was tense around her... She could list every single one of them. She had been sitting in silence for an hour. Noah was also there, but across the room. He was busy playing some cards and seemed relaxed - he was just good pretending he was fine. The air was warm and getting dense even though they had a couple of windows open. It was raining outside.

There was that thing on the back of her mind again. Scape. So she grabbed her phone and open that damn app. Five minutes later she already had a guy to busy her night. Without saying a word, she got up and disappeared in the toilet.

Everyone thought she just needed to use it. But then the door opened and she had changed her clothes and put some make up on. The bit marks had faded during the day, but not the finger marks. Her face wasn't really swollen or red anymore but she had put effort on covering it anyway.

Noah's response was automatic.

"Where are you going?"

Abby froze for long seconds. There were so many eyes on her.

"Out. I'm bored" She put that mask on again. She didn't care. She wanted to have fun. She wanted to enjoy herself. It had nothing to do with hiding those scary feelings. It wasn't a way to protect herself by just getting damaged.

"It's raining and we are in the middle of nowhere" Noah added.

"I called an Uber. It's almost here."

Noah got up and she felt small, like a little mouse in front of an enormous black cat.

"You can't go"

"I definitely can. Not your business." She moved to the door but Noah was faster.

He stood in the stairs blocking the door. Being some steps lower he had her on eye level.

"Noah, move"

"No"

The guys stayed in silence, there was a place to speak in there. It was just Noah and Abby.

"Noah" She groaned. She got a notification in her phone. "My Uber is here. I have to meet a guy in twenty minutes. Move"

"I'm not moving."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about you" He simply said.

He was calm. Way too calm. They had barely see him like this. It was disturbing.

"No, you don't. If you did you let me go"

That truly was the last drop. The air turned even thicker and Noah finally snapped.

"Don't dare to say shit like that again. Because I care. I care so damn much" He pointed a finger at her and Abby hugged herself.

She had fucked up, finally.

"If I didn't care about you I wouldn't have spent so many nights away thinking o where you were or wondering if you are okay. Because you keep getting drunk until you can't stand and then dissappear with the first person that answers your phone. And I have to stay here. I stay here and wait for you to come back every single night. And I wonder if you will. Because... Fuck. You leave and you don't tell us where you are going, alone, in an unknown city. God knows with who... And I don't know what they are capable of..." The gas station men popped back in his mind. "Well, I do. That's what scares me the most. You leave and then you come back covered in marks and with a swollen cheek and you say it's fine. But it's clearly not. Because you keep doing this to yourself. You are hurting yourself. You gent wasted every night, disappear, then come back the next morning stumbling through that damn door, you sleep for the whole day, work for a bit and then all over again. And I want to help you but I don't know how. Because I don't know how it started or when. I just know that this Abby who is destroying herlsef doesn't feel like my friend Abby."

Abby had starred crying at some point. She couldn't look at him in the eye because it was so scary to face the truth.

"It's obvious you are hurting and I wish I knew why. I have been this low too and I know how hard it is. I'm terrified something happened to you that lead you to this and I missed it." Noah stopped and took a deep breath. "I want to help you but I don't know how"

The guys were in silence. Noah's words fell over them like cold water. Folio even had to brush a tear away.

"And I really don't care with who you have sex. I just want you to be safe." Noah took a deep breath. "That's why you are not leaving tonight. I'm not letting you leave. And I don't care if I have to tie you to the chair. You are staying here tonight."

Abby was shaking and feeling to weak to stand on her own. That was it. There wasn't nothing to say. He was right. She wasn't fine, it wasn't okay, she had put herself in situations she wished she hadn't. Only because she had been so scared to acknowledge her feelings.

"Okay" She muttered.

Everyone sighed in relief. Nicholas let his head fall on the table, Matt on his hands. Jolly patted Folio, who had dropped a couple of tears again. Bryan had to look away, he wasn't used to see the drummer like this.

"Yeah?" Noah asked softly, his eyes full of hope.

"Yes"

The singer opened his arms for her and she didn't doubt. They hugged tight, Noah supporting almost her whole weight. Abby cried and cried, her shaky and weak body not being able to restrain the sobs anymore. Minutes passed and they eventually moved to the sofa.

Sweet Folio was quick, he went and covered her with a blanket.

"You must be cold"

"Thank you" She whispered. She felt awful in her clothes now. Clothes she had chosen only to be more attractive for a man she didn't know. But now the blanket and Noah's arms covered her. And he held her with so much care.

At some point she stopped sobbing and the room felt light enough that the guys resumed their cards game. There was music on the background and everyone was way more relaxed. Things wouldn't be easy, but for now they could only rest and forget about all for a second.

Noah kept repeating his words over and over again, beating himself for having been, maybe, too harsh.

"Noah" She whispered.

He looked down and cupped her cheek gently, brushing some tears again and fixing her hair.

"Mhm"

"I'm going to change, okay?"

"Of course, do you want to go to bed?"

She shrugged.

"I don't think I can sleep"

"That's fine. Just come back when you finish"

Abby nodded. When she sat, she looked at him and sighed. It was time to face reality. But for now she would rest. There was a long day tomorrow. She leaned and kissed his cheek.

Noah was blushing. He was blushing so hard when she left and closed the curtains that decided the bus.

He turned to look at the guys and then moved to sit next to them.

"You good?" Jolly asked.

Noah nodded. "I am. I feel better."

"Yeah, she is here" Folio added. They didn't see Abby in the same way, but she was too precious for them.

"Yeah"

"Will you tell her about..." Nicholas started.

"I will. Just... Not now" Noah pinched his hand. "But I will. It's worth it"

Nicholas smiled at his friend. When Abby was fine, months ago, he kept telling Noah about it. He wouldn't shut up. But Abby made his best friend happy and Nicholas only wanted the best for him.

They, being themselfs, didn't pay attention and never thought that the brown curtain didn't stop sound. And Abby was on the other side wondering what it all was about.

She reappeared a few minutes later on her pijamas and sat with them, finding a spot next to Noah and quickly asking if she could play.

"It's nice to have you back" Folio said after a while, making everyone smile.

The next morning came fast and she found herself following Noah to a coffee shop. They had stay awake with thst game for too long and everyone was in high need of caffeine.

Abby didn't leave his side for a minute.

"Abbs" He called her after finding a table. "Do you wanna sit for a bit?"

"The others..."

"They can wait"

Abby nodded, there was a conversation hanging in the air and it was the moment.

She sat in front of him and Noah grabbed his hands.

"I have been thinking and... I don't want to pressure you to tell me anything if you are not ready." He stated. "I was a bit harsh last night. And I'm sorry if anything I said hurt you"

"It's okay" She muttered. "Believe me it is. I was waiting for it to happen"

Noah frowned a bit.

"Noah... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"Abby, you did not... You don't have to..."

"I did it on purpose. I was feeling things and it got out of control so I... I became a bitch"

Noah closed his eyes for a second and grabbed her hands harder.

"Abby... I know you don't feel it like that but... This is a much bigger problem. This is something we need help with. For now... I'm just happy to have you back and to help you the best I can."

He didn't want her to blame herself because he knew how dark one's mind could get.

Abby blinked the tears away.

"Okay?"

She nodded and dried the tears.

"Noah... I..."

"Okay, breathe"

She took a deep breath and before speaking, she kissed his knuckles.

"I have to tell you something. Because I think it is what has led me to this"

Noah nodded. In the end, this was what he needed to know the most. He wanted to understand.

"I think I have feelings for you. But I don't want you to... I don't know. It's so confusing. I don't want yo to feel you have to do something or say something. But it's very scary because the last times I loved someone it ended in the worst way. And I am scared of going through this with you. Because you are so precious and important to me. You are not just some random guy. I know it's not a justification, but I wanted you to know"

Noah was speechless. He wanted to ask why she hadn't said anything, but he wasn't in a place to speak either.

"Abby... I'm sorry"

She closed her eyes. There it was, rejection.

"I'm sorry you felt like this. And I can't promise it won't end horribly. But I can promise you I will give everything I have to keep you close"

Abby took a deep breath, his words sinking slowly.

"Noah... What do you..."

"It's not time, I think we need you to get better first. But I have feelings for you too. I wish I had told you sooner, though"

A tear fell down her cheek and Noah leaned to brush it. His thumb nested on her cheek.

"Look at me"

She did. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to.

"We'll get through this. You have me and the guys. We are all here for you"

She thought of Folio's words and smiled. She turned her face and kissed his palm.

"Thank you" Her voice was weak, but Noah heard her perfectly.

"We all love you, okay? I love you"

She nodded. "I love you too, I wish it wasn't that scary"

"That's fine. It won't be soon"

She nodded.

"I can't have you right now, Noah. But I will get better"

"That's fine for me. I'll be here"

The bartender called his name and snapped their bubble. "Time to go, ready?"

"Yeah, I'll go to the toilet real quit"

Noah nodded and waited for her outside, it was sunny and he felt warm, but it was because of her. It hurt to hear her say this all had happen because of him - in some way-. But it had also given him hope. Hope because she wanted to get better.

"Hey Noah" She appeared with a shy smile. "I know what I said about waiting... But..."

He smiled at her awkwardness. "I'm waiting miss"

"A kiss? Maybe... If you want to, of course. I'm just... It's dramatic. But I'm dying for it"

Noah laughed and stepped closer to her, his hands were occupied with the coffee so he couldn't touch her. But he leaned and Abby found him halfway. Their lips touched for them first time and Abby felt herself blush. He was so soft when kissing. It didn't last much but they both pulled back smiling.

"Okay... That was really nice"

Noah chuckled. "I think I can give a few of those once in a while"

She nodded. "I'll be happy" she didn't let go of his face for a moment, forcing him to look at her.

"Sorry for hurting you. And for being mean"

Noah nodded. "I forgive you"

"Thank you"

Noah kissed her forehead.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, Matt texted me begging for the coffee."

Noah chuckled and started walking with her by his side. There was a scary walk in front of them, but for now this was more than enough to make him smile.

This one ended up being reaaally long for my liking so I had to part it. I'll be writing and posting the following parts soon. It won't be too long, probably 2-3 parts.

I hope you like it!!!

Part 2. Bring back the pieces.

[freezerbrldes]

onanist - s.r. (teaser)

PAIRING. Vampire!Spencer x Fem!reader

SUMMARY. Overcome with intense loneliness, you seek solace from any spirit that could hear your prayers. An ancient dark entity answers those prays, only his obsession with you is more than you can handle…

WARNINGS. lots of mentions of blood, biting, dom!spencer, slight somnophilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), pnv sex, spencer is extremely possessive (none of these warnings are in this teaser)

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This is a teaser for my newest fic which is heavily inspired by Nosferatu (2024)! The title is from one of my favorite songs off ethel cain’s newest ep, which I listened to a lot while writing this. I’ve never written dom!spencer or anything this dark so I had some help from @primomover. She helped me get this started and I left in a section that she wrote. The full fic will be out this friday as an early bday present from me to you.

credit to @cafekitsune for dividers

For as long as you can recall, you’ve had this recurring dream where the most captivating and beautiful man you’ve ever seen appears in your room late at night. This man embodies all your deepest, darkest, and perverted desires, and he brings out a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

He revealed to you once that his name is Spencer Reid. You know nothing else about him, yet you’re irresistibly drawn to him.

You shouldn’t even entertain these thoughts. You were married, and you shouldn’t be dreaming about anyone except your husband. However, the enigmatic man from your dreams haunts your every waking moment.

All is quiet in your empty townhouse, save for the soothing sounds of the creaks and groans of the house settling into the night.

Your husband is away on a six-week business trip, and you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions: fear of having to face the intensity of your dreams alone, but also excitement at the possibility of giving yourself up to the darkness you so desperately craved.

As you descend into a deeper sleep, the familiar dream starts. You’re standing by the balcony door as it swings open, and the curtains sway gently in the wind. A large, dark figure enters the room, towering over you as the smell of decaying flesh fills the room.

“Why do you keep visiting me every night? Who are you?” you asked, your eyes memorizing every feature of his gorgeous face, your eyes stopping at his sharp, razor-like teeth.

Spencer chuckles at your words, his loud voice reverberating through the house, causing it to shake slightly.

“Don’t you recall me? Don’t you remember calling out for me?” He spoke, his icy fingers gently caressing your face, sending shivers down your spine.

"I do remember,” you replied. “I prayed to the Lord to end my solitude." I said gently. "To send me an angel."

"Is that what I am? An angel?" He asked. As cold as his lips were, his breath set you on fire.

You looked at him - his eyes seemed to glow as they looked at your supple flesh.

"I fear you are not." You told him. He let out a huff of a laugh.

"What is to say l am not an angel that was cast out by an unforgiving god?" He swept you around in a twirl, one arm keeping your waist pulled tight against his.

“No,” you replied, your voice trembling not out of fear, but with an overwhelming sense of desire. “You are something far more sinister than a fallen angel.”

His laughter turned into a low, menacing chuckle as he spun you back around, pinning you against the wall with his body.

"Darker?" He repeated, his voice dripping with seduction and danger. "Perhaps... but you find yourself drawn to it, don't you?" His hands roamed down your sides, fingers trailing along the curves of your hips and thighs.

"This darkness within me, it stirs something primal inside you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "A desire to be consumed, to surrender to the shadows."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And I will devour you whole, my child. Body and soul." His words sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and exhilaration.

You knew you should resist, but the pull towards this dark, mysterious being was too strong to ignore.

OUT JANUARY 17TH!!

[sakkiichi]

hello!! i saw that ur requests is open :D may i request gn! reader with blade? maybe a mixture of angst and hurt with comfort where the reader feels insecure of themselves bc they heard ppl whispering abt how the reader is not suitable to be blade’s s/o, things like that

would like to ask for a happy ending bc of my sensitive heart whehdhd

take ur time writing this! feel free to delete it if u dont have the motivation/ideas <3 have a nice day 🫶🫶

DON’T LET ME LET THE DARK TAKE OVER.

Hey, nonnie ! thank you for requesting, you’re actually my first request on here <3 I hope you like it and that this is what you wanted ! I’m sorry it took a while, I hope you still enjoy, dear.

Blade x gn! reader.

genre/cw: angst to comfort and fluff, mentions of insecurity.

word count: 800 words.

You’re starting to believe they are right.

The rumors, the side glances, the occasional snickers.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much if the reason was another, but your heart was always on your sleeve when it came to him.

His swordsmanship skills were certainly the talk of town, and you knew well you can’t be liked by everyone, so the prospect of rumors arising when you and him got close was not far fetched.

And yet, your heart sinks every time wicked whispers make it to your ears.

You aren’t sure if you’ve started going crazy.

On the street, at the grocery store, at work… you can feel eyes boring into you whenever you go outside.

So you reach the conclusion it’s safer to stay home.

At least that way you don’t need to hear rumors added to the insecurities already spiraling in dark swirls inside your mind.

Your bed is more comfortable, anyway, yes, you’ll just call in sick tomorrow at work, it’s not like anyone will care.

Turning around in bed, you tuck the covers closer around you. You wish your lover was by your side right now.

‘And you think you deserve him?’ A cruel voice whispers at the back of your mind.

Your lids flutter closed; if you stay really still, maybe, just maybe, the whole world will forget about you.

“[Y/n], I’m home.”

Damn, maybe not everyone will forget about you.

Still, you don’t get out from your cocoon when you hear his footsteps; nor do you run to hug him as you used to, even when his soft yet slightly raspy voice reaches you, more desperate by the minute.

Then, light in rusty hues floods into the bedroom, relief palpable in your partner’s tone when he sighs:

“Good. You’re here.”

However, the stellaron hunter’s happiness is short lived.

You look… dimmed.

To Blade, you were the ever-light that rose in the zenith of his black hole infinities. Right now, however, all he can see when his eyes of bleeding rubies catch sight of you is colorless fog, dull gray over the rainbow speckled meadows you usually smiled in. A broken solstice of decaying ashen flowers.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n]!” Your boyfriend steps closer to your unreactive body. “Hey, I’m here, it’s going to be okay.” He carefully pulls the covers away from you.

Fallen moonbeams stain your cheeks, salty with bitterness and hurt.

“Ren…” You mutter, still not facing him. Your body trembles, you look so frail right now. “Why are you here?” You choke out, voice low, the broken crackling of lightning in the distance.

“I’ll always be here.” Blade tells you, softly, running a hand through your hair, turning you around to face him.

“But why?” You put your palms against his chest, over the steady heartbeat that used to lull you to sleep. “You could do so much better, Ren. Why stay?” Your teary eyes still won’t look at him.

“No.” Your lover states, sharp, the edge of metal cutting through heavy star-obscuring clouds. “It doesn’t get better than you, angel.” He says, chapped lips tender against your hair.

“But it does, Blade…” Your voice breaks, parted clouds weeping for you. “I hear them, everyone agrees that I’m not good enough for you!”

“Who is spouting such nonsense?” Your stellaron hunter asks, his tone taking on a dangerous lilt.

“Everyone! When I go shopping, the neighbors, even sometimes when I leave work… I-I’ve even gotten some passive-aggressive comments on whether we’re still together or not…”

His hold on you tightens, strong arms hugging you closer to him.

The fact that someone else has made you feel like this makes Blade’s blood boil. If it wasn’t because you would certainly try to stop him, he’d be ready to torn to pieces anyone who ever made you think you’re less than enough.

The stellaron hunter’s strength was never in his speech, so, as liquid moonlight trickles down your cheeks, he keeps you from breaking.

His once ensnaring grip was always devoid of thorns when it came to you, only deep crimson blooms flourishing in his wake.

“They’re wrong.” Are the venom laced seeds fallen from the vermillion petals that surround you. “You’re perfect for me, no matter what. You’re perfect, I won’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.” Each statement is punctuated by his arms squeezing you softly, so delicate in contrast to his icy tone, like the first fall of snow dusting over a rose garden.

And maybe it’s because you’re too tired, or perhaps because Blade’s caress is akin to watching the stars rise in a poppy field, but you don’t try to retort.

The moon is high when your lids flutter closed, your lover’s heartbeat a comforting lullaby.

In your dreams, you and him imprint angels in the snow.

In the real world, Blade kisses your temple, his arms secure around you.

The new dawn looks bright in the distance.