#also though i feel like his lore is like. maybe a little too dark for saw at the same time

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[gomi--neko]

James Sunderland saw trap cross over?

[rayroseu]

RAMBLES.... This is just a little thing I found on Knight of Dawn's sprite, but HE ACTUALLY WEARS THE AURORAL RING AS A RING??? LIKE ON HIS HAND??? I assumed all this time that him and Silver always wore it as a necklace bcs both their rings has a chain on it and it glows only on their chest.

Maybe they just draw it like this bcs the screen of the game is very limited. It would look awkward if all this time, Dawn wore it as a ring and they tried to place the glow on his hand (which will be hidden by the thick dialogue box lol) TWST just pls make cutscene illustrations for once--

Although this is so interesting though?? What do you mean that Dawn has a seperate sprite where he has no armor and we can actually see the ring on his hand (despite the fact that all this time they have only been implied to wear it as a necklace) I feel like this guy will really come back on main story once we get to the lore of this ring 😭✨✨

PLS twst im clawing at your door,,, the RING LORE,,, we dont know anything about it fr, at least for Princess Glow, we know that stone only works with Meleanor and its able to grant miracles like restoring health, but for the ring, we only know it didnt come from the Silver Owls, it was left with Dawn ever since he was born (so he didnt create it) and its able to guide you out of the darkness and it only operates with Silver's UM.

Now that I think about it, isnt this auroral ring and Princess Glow operates the same way lol Only follows one caster/magic and able to create miracles (auroral ring's miracle is that its able to fight against the darkness and we know no one has been able to rise up from the darkness yet except Silver with his ring)

I personally think that other than Malleus, Silver will still be a relevant character once we get to Book 8. This magic and Malleus' UM sounds like it'll be useful to make Yuu meet Mickey or make them go home ig. Malleus' UM allows you to initiate a dream while Silver's UM allows you to travel around that dream conciously.

Also wild guess, but if Grim's overblot happens, I just know Silver will be the one to make it 😭

If Book 7 allowed Silver and Sebek to work together, maybe Book 8 will be about Malleus and Silver working together??? 🥺🙏✨

full sprite if anyone wants to see it lol (its from @twstassets)

WAITING FOR THE PART THAT SILVER GETS TO CAST A SWORD LIKE KNIGHT OF DAWN TOO ALKSJDALKD LOOK i feel that they made their model look exactly the same bcs they're trying to reuse this animation on Silver on the latter part of the book----

also looking at his normal outfit,,, Dawn's clothes really resembles too much with RSA's uniform 😭✨

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts; chapter 1

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Hoping for a new beginning, you make a decision and end up at Bangtan Inc. looking for a chance. And somehow unbeknownst to you make a life-defining choice.

Chapter word count: 10k

Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: not much really - a lot of exposition and some spooky stuff happening, sad ghost backstory, jimin is a little shit, yoongi being effortlessly waaaay too hot while also being adorable and sweet

A/N: here we go folks, the first chapter of our sweet autumnal spooky story! i had such a blast writing this, it's been so amazing to work with the Lockwood&Co universe (it made me reread the first book, again), and this story satisfies something in me that yearns for comfort and coziness, so enjoy! as always, i'd love any kind of feedback or response, so don't be shy and comment, reblog, send me an ask!

divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics

Standing face to face with the old-timey mansion, I didn’t really know how to feel.

It looked fairly inconspicuous in the daylight – just another old expensive house built on this street. It was half hidden behind a stone wall, the wrought iron gate giving me a little peek into the bleary autumnal garden slowly getting covered up with fallen leaves.

There was an iron sign nailed to the wall that read “BANGTAN INC., paranormal investigations” and I gave it a long look.

A new beginning, hopefully, was waiting for me beyond this gate, and I gulped, steeling myself into finally ringing the bell instead of just endlessly shuffling around on the street like a weirdo. I felt the pressure of the paper on which I’d written down the address burning through my pocket. It was just a job interview, and yet it felt like a pivotal moment in my life. It was this or back home, to the cold god-forgotten mountains and that prick Lee. He’d have a field day with me if I crawled back, and that’s why I had to ace this.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” a deep voice from somewhere behind me uttered, a touch of amusement to his words. I jerked around, too consumed by my own thoughts to take notice of my surroundings, even with my heightened senses.

A hybrid stood there, a mischievous expression painting his face. He was pretty tall and built, hair cut fairly short and swept off of his face with two black rounded ears standing in attention amidst those spiky waves. His face was rounded and soft. When my eyes slid down towards his hips, there was no tail. He was most probably a bear.

“I’m sorry?” I asked him, subtly trying to search the air for any noticeable scents, but the air was a little too crisp to carry anything. The man only giggled and stepped a little closer.

“I said,” he replied, “I wouldn’t go in there. Heard the house is haunted.” He brought up his hand to wiggle his fingers in a spooky gesture, trying his hardest to sell the scare, but losing to his own amused snickers.

“Hauntings only manifest after sun-down,” I cited monotonal, subconsciously turning my head to check the greyish blue sky. It was still early afternoon and even though autumn was coming, it wouldn’t start getting dark for another few hours.

The hybrid pouted, sad that he couldn’t scare me, and I wondered what exactly was he trying to do here.

“Taehyung, stop messing with everyone walking by,” a firm voice from my left suddenly appeared, softly chiding the still pouting hybrid, “I told you a thousand times.”

Another hybrid appeared suddenly from my periphery and I couldn’t believe I completely missed his presence on the empty street. He must have been walking over and I just didn’t hear him. Or maybe he came from the neighbouring house?

He was of similar height, broad-shouldered but slim. His attractive face was pulled into an amicable polite smile and the brown rounded ears flicked towards me in interest as he took me in. Another bear.

“Hello, dear,” he said towards me, tone much kinder in that ‘I’m talking to a stranger’ sort of way, “Are you a client? Do you need help with a haunting?” There was something undeniably eager in his voice and it gave me a little pause. They were Bangtan Inc.

Caught red-handed loitering in front of their house, I panicked and did something very stupid.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered out maybe a little too fast, lying through my teeth – but the men didn’t notice, no. Their faces immediately brightened, postures straightening. 

“Amazing!” the newcomer exclaimed, hands clapping together. He almost threw himself towards the gate, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds before it creaked open and he invited me to step in with a wide gesture, a tinge of nervousness to him like he was afraid I’d turn around and run.

I didn’t. Instead I offered my own hopefully easy smile and nervously fiddled with my wool hat, hoping it still effectively covered my ears, as I accepted and slowly started on the walk over to the main entrance of the house. The giggley from before quickly slipped in as well, shuffling cutely by the broad-shouldered man’s side.

I had just stepped on the first stone stair of the veranda when the door flew open and I startled, foot slipping on the damp surface. Before I even had the time to yelp, there was a hand on my lower back supporting me.

“Oh my! Be careful!”

“Hyung!”

A few shouts rang out at the same time, but I barely even listened. My hand shot out, almost slapping myself in my own face, trying to keep the headwear in place. I felt my ears twitching underneath it, but it stayed firmly on.

“Thank you,” I muttered, righting myself again and looking towards the third hybrid, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No no no, none at all,” the handsome hybrid said, “it was Hoseokie’s fault, he should have been more careful with the door.”

The new hybrid standing in the door was looking at me sheepishly, an embarrassed blush painting his face pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said plainly, red fox ears twitching in his curly hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hoseokie, please bring our new client inside and into the sitting room,” there was an understanding that ran through them at the word client, and immediately the fox, Hoseok, turned all professional and beckoned me inside with a practiced friendly smile.

Giggley said nothing since the other bear’s arrival, only hung around in the back of the group, watching me with a strange kind of excitement.

“Please, please, through here,” I found myself pulled through the door and the main hall, under a pretty arch with wooden beams carved into branches with leaves and into what I presumed must have been the aforementioned sitting room.

I wasn’t even sure what that was, must have been a rich people house thing.

The happy fox was flitting around me, fussing with my light coat and assuring me I can step inside with my shoes on. After a barrage of questions about refreshments he danced out of the room, presumably into the kitchen to fetch the promised tea and biscuits.

There was no trace of the other two hybrids, but I heard movement through the house – someone calling a name I couldn’t fully decipher, heavy steady footsteps through a hall, a distant buzz of conversation. Signs of living.

The house smelt happy, lived in. I wanted to go find giggley and argue with him – this house wasn’t haunted; it was a home.

Shuffling a little on the armchair, I felt nervousness sink in. Now that I was here in this situation, I had no idea how to get out of it. The scent suppressant I sprayed on in the morning was going to protect me for a little while more, but if someone really tried I would no doubt be sniffed out without a problem. My ears started to hurt from how I pressed them down in order to not have a suspiciously twitchy hat and no matter how I tried to manoeuvre myself onto the chair, I couldn’t avoid sitting on my tail that was tucked and hidden into the long skirt I wore and protectively curled around my thigh.

I wasn’t even trying to fool them – I wanted the job they offered on the dingy website and for that I had to be a hybrid, but it was easier travelling through the city while pretending to be human – people stared less, whispered less about ghosts and death. It kind of just snowballed from when they assumed I was a client. No other reason for a human to be hanging about a paranormal investigations agency.

I shouldn’t have agreed, but then a strange fear choked me – I wasn’t ready to go in and ask for a chance. It seemed like a great idea to just scope them out, but now it was painfully obvious to me from their joy that not many clients walked through that gate and now I didn’t know how to tell them I wasn’t one.

Before I could spiral further, two hybrids walked into the room – Hoseok and one I haven’t met yet. He was tall, even taller than the two bears, and muscled. Strength radiated off of him, an aura of power that shocked me into silence as I eyed him with something suspiciously close to awe. Something about him was pressing onto my instincts, blanketing my brain with a layer of rightness, safeness. I fought myself not to submit then and there and embarrassment flooded through me.

But at least I wasn’t the only one – from where my eyes caught onto his greyish wolf ears I saw them twitch nervously and then I realised he was actually blushing under my stare, to which I burst into flames even further and politely shifted my eyes to the little table in front of me.

I heard Hosoek’s snickers, but from his relaxed stance I deduced I probably wasn’t the first to get caught into the lure of this hybrid’s aura. It would surprise me if I was.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot and still a little pink, before he regained a little bit of his professionality back.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” he recited smoothly, deep voice like honey, and I blushed a little more, pointedly avoiding Hoseok’s amused eyes, “thank you for choosing our agency to help with your little problem. O-or not little, I mean, it could be a big problem. We can definitely handle anything though, you don’t have to worry.” He stuttered through his little speech miserably, shooting a shy glance towards his companion who was watching with fond eyes.

“Oh Joon,” the little sigh came from behind me and I twirled around to once again come face to face with the brown bear, the man still smiling kindly, “Don’t worry dear, he always gets stuttered up like that.”

He stepped into the room and stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. I quickly fumbled to get on my feet, alleviating the pressure on my poor tail and stumbling in the process, but this time I righted myself before any of the men could. I grabbed his hand with cheeks still red, but with a shy smile back.

“I’m Kim Seokjin,” he introduced himself and then gestured towards the wolf, “and that is Kim Namjoon. He is the owner and the director of Bangtan Inc.�� I moved along, offering my hand to the blushing man as well and he took it eagerly yet gently.

I was so distracted by the soft calming grip of his hand that I didn’t even notice the way the wolf sniffed the air and froze, smile melting off into a frown. Namjoon took a step back and his hand got torn out of my hold, and I looked up in alarm worried something happened.

And something did. The man was watching me with apprehension, no trace of the smiling shy man – in his place stood a powerful hybrid sensing a threat. And I immediately understood what happened.

“W-wait!” I exclaimed, “I can explain, I promise!”

The other two hybrids in the room also took a cautious step back, following the director’s lead and I realised – they must have been a pack and he must have been their alpha. That would explain the reaction of my body I was faced with upon seeing him for the first time.

“Why are you trying to sneak into my house?” the question came out a lot unfriendlier than I was used from these hybrids, but I couldn’t blame him – I had unknowingly tried to cheat the alpha of the house and that was a big offense between hybrids, especially since I was a stranger to his pack.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, also slowly backing away from the man now that he was so high-strung about my proximity. His packmates watched us with confusion, but I saw the realisation slowly sink into their faces, so I decided to stop the farce and reached for the hat, yanking it off. It was impolite to keep headwear on inside anyway, and I know that wasn’t lost on Hoseok since he tried to take it off for me even though I insisted on keeping it.

Their gasps were less shocked by now, both of them anticipating something like that to be the revelation, but I was sure it was more a reaction to opening a whole new level of information about me. The ears were undeniably feline, even though I wouldn’t blame them for not recognising them, and now that I finally unfurled my tail, it started peeking out from the bottom of my long skirt – that was the one cons about it – it was very long, impractically so.

I saw their eyes trained on the fluffy tip of the appendage, their faces written with their attempts to guess what kind of feline I was.

Not Namjoon though, the wolf was staring me down, eyes shining bronze and posture tense, tail ram-rod straight in a show of dominance. I crumpled into myself a little, showing him I wasn’t a threat even though I entered his territory under false pretences.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, alpha,” the name slipped out of my mouth quite naturally, even though I’ve never lived with wolves before – this man just made it easy to submit. He did relax slightly then, but his senses were still alert, no doubt driving him insane because he couldn’t fully smell me.

“I saw the job offer and I came to ask about it, but when I got surprised at the gate by the bears, I panicked and agreed to come in as a client,” I quickly explained, hoping this wouldn’t end up with me kicked out and no prospects of a future employment, “It was stupid of me, I should have thought more carefully about entering a stranger’s territory while pretending to be human.”

That seemed to have diffused the situation completely and I finally sighed out in relief when Namjoon moved, shoulders relaxed a smidge more and only a trace of mistrust on his face. I was proper ashamed though, and watching the floor with burning face, ears pressed into my head so hard it hurt.

Then I sensed Seokjin moving closer before he gently laid a hand on my shoulder, leading me back into the armchair just as Hoseok shook out of his stupor and started serving the tea and biscuits he brought over. Namjoon still stood still on the opposite side, by the dark brown sofa, but he didn’t seem as hostile anymore.

“You little dummy,” Seokjin teased, and had it been said by anyone else with a different intonation, I would have been mad, but his words only made me blush more, shy and embarrassed. Then he looked over at his packmate and tsked gently.

“Come on Joon, cut her some slack,” he chided, “she was caught off guard because Taehyung started teasing her with the whole ‘the house is haunted’ thing he does.” That had the man relaxing completely and he finally sunk down into the sofa, Hoseok joining him shortly and making himself comfortable in the huge pillows.

There was a light disapproving tint to his expression, but mostly he just looked fondly exasperated, shaking his head slightly and chuckling under his breath.

“I told him a thousand times to stop doing that, it makes people nervous and then they don’t ring the doorbell,” he muttered much the same words as Seokjin had before on the street, and the fight drained out of my body when I realised I really wasn’t going to get kicked out.

“I’m still sorry,” I piped up carefully, gathering the hot mug into my hands and cuddling up to it on instinct before I stopped myself. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one afternoon.

“So you’re interested in the job, then?” Namjoon changed the subject smoothly, fully settling into his director persona. I nodded eagerly and watched Seokjin walk over to the sofa and sit down elegantly, direct opposite of the lounging fox that now sat with a pillow squished into his arms.

“I got interested because it mentioned you are a hybrid run agency without human supervision,” I told him and the effect of my words was clear.

Human supervision was a concept as old as PI (paranormal investigations) agencies themselves, hybrids weren’t even allowed to own and run them up until like fifty years ago, and even after human supervision was a standard occurrence.

Even though humans had no affinity for the paranormal (some were a little more sensitive to it then others, especially when it came to children) it still ingrained itself as some sort of a staple of quality of agencies – those that didn’t have human supervisors were often ostracised and disadvantaged, there were quite strong smear campaigns against them and people still held mistrust towards them.

If investigators made mistakes that cost lives or destroyed property at an agency with human supervision, nobody thought anything of it, but if the same happened in agencies without, they were often dragged through the mud and sometimes even shut down after “thorough investigations”. It was more than unfair – it was discrimination. Most humans still saw us as animals and therefore incapable of having the same judgements and freedoms as humans did. They didn’t trust the hybrids that risked their lives to make their homes safe again, they rather turned to the humans that accompanied them in and did nothing.

Most human supervisors were older, still very much in the mindset that hybrids weren’t supposed to have their own opinions, and they were absolutely useless in the face of the paranormal – they were a bunch of pricks drunk on their own power, barking orders they didn’t fully understand, putting investigators into difficult spots and overriding their decisions according to a manual that was outdated and unflexible.

But even though you truly couldn’t find a single hybrid that was happy about this still being a thing, due to the industry pressure they still rather chose to work with them – because working against them was virtually impossible and most of those little stubborn groups usually ended up bankrupt pretty fast. The biggest names were still big corporations that built their traditions on the humans in charge of the operations, and if you wanted to have a successful career or even to be able to make a living, you still had to grovel at their feet and beg for an opportunity.

The dark shadows that overtook the three hybrids’ faces at the mention of human supervision perfectly reflected the grim reality of PI industry.

“No, no humans here,” the wolf stated firmly, “we are fully operated by hybrids. We don’t allow any kind of outside intervention, during the investigations everything is fully in the hands of the operatives.” I nodded, satisfied.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, but didn’t elaborate any further. Most hybrids had bad experiences with their supervisors, so I imagine they must have understood pretty clearly where I was coming from.

“Do you have a resume?” Seokjin asked, bringing the attention back onto the topic at hand. I fumbled with my bag, fighting to pull out the slightly crumpled piece of paper that was pitifully empty, and I flushed under his inquisitive eyes when he caught sight of the free spaces.

I had pretty standard qualifications – I did have all of them, I finished all of my education, but it was nothing special. Everyone that successfully graduated from high school and finished their courses had the same ones (and there was a lot of us). There was some experience from practical education, a part-time job as a graveyard guard and a brief stint at the local office of Black Guard Corp., one of the three giants in the PI industry.

It really didn’t take a long time for the three men to skim through it, it actually felt embarrassingly fast before their gazes shifted back to me, appraising me and searching for at least a sliver of talent.

“Oh, you’re from all the way up north,” Hoseok exclaimed, “Got tired of the mountains?” I chuckled somewhat humourlessly.

“Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. A lot of reclusive communities up in the north – a lot of stigma and not much to do, so it wasn’t that strange that young people moved towards bigger cities searching for modernity and understanding.

“One of our packmates is also from the area,” Hoseok said emphatically, smiling my way, “he moved down as soon as he hit eighteen.” A noise of understanding clawed out of my throat completely unbidden and I awkwardly coughed.

“Yeah, it’s fairly normal,” I replied, “I was one of the few young people left in our village.” Silence barely settled over us when Namjoon broke it again.

“You wrote Hearing and Touch as your strongest senses,” the wolf asked, tapping at the paper where presumably those words were written, “can you elaborate on that a little?”

Those hybrids that had talent (meaning a sense for the paranormal) all mostly had a little bit of everything when it came to the three main senses – sight, smell and hearing. Even if sight wasn’t your strongest sense, you still saw just not as clearly as others. If sight was your strongest sense, you still were able to smell or hear to a certain extent. But usually every investigator had a sense that was stronger than others.

Of course there were levels – someone’s strongest sense could still be weak compared to another person, but it was what he relied upon the most when it came to gathering information about the haunting. Those who had exceptionally strong senses could manifest rare gifts tied to their talents – like those with extremely strong sight could be able to see energy traces, or those with a superior sense of hearing could actually communicate with some of the ghosts.

Touch was a bit of a wild card. It was a considerably rare gift – not that it was super hard to find someone with the capability, but that usually it was very weak. A lot of people who manifested this already rare gift couldn’t actually do much with it and mostly just caught echoes. It was also a gift that only tacked onto a heightened sense of hearing or smell, as that made it stronger.

Touch allowed for the investigator to strike up a connection between themselves and an object closely related to the ghost, it showed them visions – of the ghost’s memories, of their life. Sometimes it shed light onto their motivations to stay behind, sometimes the visions more showed what kind of person they were. Most of the times it made you go through the worst moments of their life – and their death.

It was a dangerous ability that consumed you from within, left you vulnerable. Those with particularly strong Touch often went mad through the years of endless investigations and ended up shells of their former selves.

And mine was – it was on its way there too. It was my greatest pride and my biggest weakness, all at once.

“Do you have anyone else with Touch?” I asked instead of answering at first. The trio on the couch showed their interest was definitely piqued but they let me get away with the small distraction.

Hoseok nodded at the same time as Seokjin said “yes”, and they looked at each other before the fox gestured for the bear to continue.

“We do, we have two,” he replied with a gentle smile, “Jiminie has the same set as you, but his touch isn’t particularly strong. Taehyungie, you met him outside, has smell and touch. His are a little stronger, but he mostly just complains that all he gets are terrible scents.” I chuckled at that.

“I can imagine. I used to know this ferret with the same combination and she always whined that it just makes the smells worse,” the anecdote made me relax even more as I thought back to the few good people I met through my old agency and remembered the reasons for why I stayed there for such a long time. Well, if a few months could be considered a long time. Then I took a deep breath.

“Well, both of my senses are quite… pronounced,” I admitted. People with Touch had to be careful about their talents – either it made you vulnerable to exploitation or you were seen as an emotional wreck and a liability. It was hard to say what people’s reaction would be – that’s why I always asked about their own operatives first.

“Are you getting full visions?” Namjoon asked, and his voice was carefully neutral to make me more at ease. I nodded.

“Yeah. My hearing is pretty strong too, usually I was one of the most alert ones in my team,” I told him, wringing my hands in my lap as I recalled my earlier job, “my touch was what I excelled in though. Full visions, manifestations of emotions, the whole shebang.” The men seemed a little troubled but mostly I recognised worry for my health in those gazes, and while it was one of the pitfalls, I was at least glad they didn’t seem to be strangely excited about my talents. Sometimes we could be seen as an easy way to fame and money, and I’d rather starve than work for a company like that.

“Have you ever successfully carried out a conversation with an apparition?” this time it was Seokjin who asked, and I nodded quickly.

“Once, but she was really confused,” I replied eagerly, “I wasn’t able to get much out of her, it was like she drifted in and out of awareness.” Sometimes the hearing ability worked both ways – when ghosts were weak or low levels according to the manuals, they weren’t really capable of communicating. Maybe they said something here or there, but they weren’t fully conscious and aware. The stronger the apparition, the higher the level, the bigger the chance that they would hear you and answer – but just as there was a barrier that allowed only some to hear them, the barrier carried over certain voice better than others. Therefore if you were skilled at hearing, you also had a higher chance of being heard by the ghost.

The strongest apparitions could freely hold a conversation and hear everyone, even if others couldn’t hear them. From what I read, they were usually quite the pieces of work and annoying to talk to.

“That does happen quite often,” Seokjin sighed, folding himself back into the settee, “Most of the conversations with the dead are quite frustrating. Either because they don’t hear you or because they do and you wish they didn’t.” It sounded like he truly spoke from experience, and I did have to agree with him, even though I haven’t bumped into a fully aware ghost yet. I thought it quite safe to assume Seokjin’s affinity was also hearing, then.

“Well, let me quickly introduce you to the offered position,” Namjoon hijacked the conversation again, leaning forward to look a little more professional, “There’s seven of us in total and we usually work in teams of three or four, depending on the danger level. We try to take turns, but often we found ourselves in situations where we didn’t have time both for business and for basic upkeep of the house and such.” I nodded in understanding.

“People in the summer usually feel emboldened by the long days,” the wolf continued, “so we had a slow period, but with the start of autumn and winter the fear will set in again and they’ll be desperate enough to go even to a small hybrid run agency, so we usually get busier, especially here in the local area. We need a helper. I think the offer said an assistant and a junior operative. Basically someone who will fill in the blank spaces – keep the house tidy when everyone is either busy with investigations, resting or researching. Tag along when we could use a helping hand out in the field. Make sure we’re fully stocked up, double check we have all the supplies in our bags and belts. Help out Hoseok with taking calls, caring for customers when they come here. A little bit of everything to make it easier for us, so we can fully focus on our other tasks.” I hummed again and gestured for him to continue.

“In return we offer lodging here in the house, help with training and gaining more experience with both field and off-field work, like researching, orienting yourself in libraries, archives, what you have the authorisation to do and to ask for, such things. We offer full gear – a new rapier, salt bombs, magnesium bombs, shoes, coats, protective glasses – anything you might need or ask for. We’d take you with us to investigations, show you the ropes, train you to be a full operative.” There Namjoon stopped and wavered a little, hesitation creeping into his face.

I assumed that this was where it usually all fell apart for him, so I straightened in the armchair and waited with bated breath what would follow.

“I know it seems a lot, but it could be a good opportunity,” the wolf smiled at me, the shyness and kindness he displayed earlier before I was found out shining through once more, “Of course… it won’t pay as much as if you worked for Black Guard or the Iron Sword, but it’s still a good pay, more than enough to live comfortably. And as I said, you can live here so that will lower living costs as well…” I released a big huff in relief. I see, so he was worried about money.

The trio of hybrids didn’t seem to know how to interpret my reaction, so I gave them a huge toothy grin, a real one, that channelled just how interested I was in the position. It was perfect for me and I could use the community, the variety and the opportunity to learn.

“No, that sounds perfect,” I told him, and I meant every word of it. That put blinding smiles on their faces as well, and suddenly Hoseok was jumping to his feet and clapping his hands, once again scaring the living shit out of me.

This time he looked a lot less sheepish and a lot more amused as he said sorry, and then he was beckoning me to follow him out of the sitting room. The other two men chuckled fondly, but followed after him, nodding at me to come with them.

“We’re going to test you a little,” Namjoon explained, eyes searching the sky outside through a window in the hall, “I hope it’s not too early for a little ghostly activity.”

The sitting room was the first room you’d see when you stepped inside the house, but there was actually a similar room to the other side of the entrance hall, only stylised into a darker green instead of the browns and beiges of the one we were sitting at.

The entrance hall then opened into a huge room dominated by an old staircase leading to a little corridor that disappeared on both ends deeper into the house. The backdrop of the corridor though was an absolutely massive window made of stained glass that painted together a flowering meadow with a forest on the horizon. It was a little faded, the colours a little dull, but obviously well-loved and cared for, and it stole my breath away.

On the ground floor the room opened to corridors on the sides that similarly disappeared deeper, but on the left side there had to be a kitchen, because the corridor carried to me absolutely delicious smells, and sounds of a knife hitting a cutting board in a steady rhythm. I almost salivated upon smelling that, and wished I could weasel myself into staying for dinner, but instead I followed the men to the right, away from the tantalising scents.

We passed two sets of double doors made from dark polished wood. One was cracked open and I clearly heard giggles and a hushed conversation coming from there, recognising one of those voices as the deep baritone of the black bear that was trying to scare me outside. He was the one of the two with touch, and if I managed to get this job, I couldn’t wait to talk to them about their gift. Up in the north there was only one other girl with touch – the ferret hybrid that had smell as her other sense, but since her touch wasn’t as strong, our experiences with it were completely different.

But that’s not where we were going – the three hybrids continued to the end of the hall where another set of dark-wood doors sat firmly closed. Namjoon fished out a bundle of keys from his pants, and I couldn’t believe the chunky ball of iron fit into his trousers without bulging out uncomfortably.

There were two locks on the door and I promptly realised where he was taking me.

Every agency had a storage room – a place where all the dangerous things sat properly handled and out of reach to anyone that didn’t know how to work with them and could get hurt. That meant everything from spare rapiers and magnesium bombs to active artefacts – ghost sources with their apparitions still attached to them.

A source could be anything that bound a ghost to the place of haunting and allowed them to come back – objects that were loved during their life, objects that were tied to their death or quite straightforwardly, their remains. Sometimes the ghosts were tied to a certain space, and those cases were the most annoying, because there wasn’t much you could do about it – especially if it was a random spot in the middle of a forest or an actively lived-in house.

Operative’s job was to investigate the haunting, find the source and handle it – with salt, iron or silver, depending on the strength of the ghost. Those materials acted as a buffer and eliminated all chances of the ghost slipping through into our world again – it locked the door, one could say. Some ghosts could be chased away with a little bit of salt or a sprinkle of iron filings, but some had to have their sources wrapped in silver and destroyed in fire – those were the most dangerous ones.

Certain artefacts were allowed to be kept as trophies, even though no one really kept an eye on that. The black market was very profitable and unfortunately a lot of people that were supposed to be regulators themselves dabbled in it and collected strong active sources. So the rule of thumb was that regular sources were disposed of in the furnaces while the ones tied to famous cases were kept – people didn’t really care for grandpa Smith’s old walking stick, but they sure were interested in the remains of blood-thirsty ghosts that terrorised and killed until they were swiftly handled by an agency – getting rid of an artefact like that could be a huge PR hit for companies, and they were usually safely showed off in their headquarters to forever burn into people’s memories that they were the ones closing that case.

I assumed Namjoon was taking me to a similar trophy case to gauge the strength and depth of my senses.

Unlike the showy glass buildings of big corporations, Bangtan’s headquarters were situated in the basement under their house – it was mostly one big spacious room with walls made of red bricks and a floor of stone tiles. There were three tables there, covered in paperwork, and one wall was lined with filing cabinets, which must have been filled with old, closed cases.

A little light shined in through small oblong windows near the ceiling, so I was grateful when someone flicked a switch and artificial lights came on with a low hum.

And then I saw it – deeper into the space where two smaller rooms, cutting the space unevenly in half – and the wall facing us currently still standing by the door was covered with luminescent shelves.

It wasn’t the shelves themselves that shined – it was their contents.

There weren’t many artefacts, in fact most of the shelves were completely empty, but they made up for it with their brightness. Usually the brighter the source was, the stronger the ghost tied to it – and these were some potent sources.

I made a little panicked noise at the back of my throat, ears flattening to my head and tail flicking with agitation. I pointed towards the wall and then looked to the men with wide scared eyes.

“You can’t open those, look how bright they are even in the middle of the day!” I exclaimed and the men laughed lightly.

Namjoon leisurely made his way over towards the wall, and in my panic I followed him, heart beating out of my throat. But once there, he didn’t reach towards any of the sources encased in glass tubes infused with silver and iron for safe-keeping, he actually turned toward one of the shelves I previously thought was empty.

Only, when I came closer I realised it was lined with passive sources – ones that used to be tied to a ghost who was either destroyed and left their source behind or chose to move on, or just simply were charged with energy of a haunting and not the apparition itself. They were no longer dangerous and mostly deserted of any activity.

The wolf whispered around with the fox for a little while, hands lingering on certain objects as they deliberated on which they wanted to give me as a test. Seokjin stood to the other side of me, eyes glued to the active sources as if he looked for something specific.

I waited with bated breath to see when his eyes lit up with recognition, eager to know what it was, but I was interrupted by Namjoon’s deep voice as he beckoned me closer.

I looked to them and saw that both he and Hoseok had an object in their hands, having chosen their favourite. Namjoon carefully cradled an intricately carved wooden comb – it was absolutely beautiful and it looked very old and frail, with some of its teeth broken or missing.

He nudged his hands to me, motioning for me to pick it up.

“Tell me this comb’s story, Y/N,” he said, and the sudden appearance of my name shocked me enough to flinch in surprise. I realised I never actually introduced myself to them, the whole clusterfuck of a situation derailing the usual pleasantries – he had to have read it on my resume.

With blushing cheeks I rushed to grab it, careful to give it the same gentle consideration as the wolf did. The last thing I wanted was to break it.

At first I felt nothing. I heard the men’s breathing, the wild beating of all our hearts as the anticipation gripped us. I heard the faint clanks coming from the kitchen on the floor above. I felt my ears twitch as they tried to focus on the echoes of things long gone instead of the very present and very alive hybrids.

Anxiety spilled through me and I squirmed. Slowly I felt myself sink into panic, brain running its mouth telling me that I was useless and couldn’t even feel the object, that they’d laugh at me, they’d hate me. They’d kick me out and I’d have to go back home, embarrassed and defeated. I wouldn’t be able to impress them, I was a sham, a phony. I had nothing to offer anyone. I was worthless. Maybe I should just-

The thought startled me into a more present grounded mindset, and I ashamedly realised that due to me being nervous about the test I hadn’t noticed when I slipped into my ability. Those weren’t my thoughts, but whoever once owned this comb had a really bad time.

Shakily I dropped the comb back into Namjoon’s waiting hands, noting the concern on his face at my queasy expression. Hoseok was standing next to him still holding his own item, but his eyes were wide and a little scared.

“Are you okay dear?” Seokjin suddenly asked me, hands settling on my shoulders as he spun me around, “You suddenly got really pale.” I nodded hurriedly, using the sleeve of my sweater to dry off some of the accumulated sweat on my face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” I stuttered out, turning back to Namjoon and looking straight into his worried eyes, “The woman who wore this comb killed herself, didn’t she? She felt worthless – someone had left her. Maybe the very person who gave her the comb.” The devastation hit the wolf’s face as soon as I was finished speaking.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I’ve never met anyone with touch as strong as yours, I didn’t realise you’d feel it so intensely,” he said, comb long forgotten discarded haphazardly on the shelf.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement – the genuine remorse at putting me through an experience like that, even unknowingly – it was enough to make me blush under his brown gentle eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s my ability and I’ve learnt to deal with it,” I told him softly, “I just got a little surprised, I wasn’t paying enough attention and let it suck me in a little.” He looked like he saved my words into memory for later use, like he wanted to make sure to help me along the way to not slip into the memories as easily again, and I flushed again, warmth spreading through my chest.

I’d never met anyone so invested in the well-being of their operatives. Which was quite sad, thinking about it.

“Was I right, though?” I enquired, and he shook out of his stupor, looking at me, then at the comb, then back at me and then as if everything caught up with him he nodded quickly.

“Yeah, her actual source were her remains – they got stuck deep in the mud in the river she drowned herself in, but the comb was in her hands and carried over the aura of her haunting,” the wolf explained eagerly, “she was mostly just sitting around on the bank, scaring off some of the local children who felt unsafe there due to her aura. She wasn’t dangerous at all, just really sad.” I felt a pained pang in my heart, some of the unsettled feelings and thoughts from her last moments still lingering in the corners of my soul.

“That’s incredibly heart-breaking,” I whispered, eyes glued to the beautiful accessory.

Before I could spiral any deeper into those thoughts, Hoseok awkwardly cleared his throat, hands hanging in the air between us unsure of whether he should offer the artefact or not. Everybody’s attention was drawn to him and Namjoon was just about to open his mouth to protest, when I beat him to it by grabbing the little thingy.

It was a really fancy pen, felt and looked new, like it would still write if I tried it on a piece of paper, and its ghostly traces were incredibly weak. This time I was more cautious as I examined it, rolling it around in my hands, eyes closed and fingers trying to feel every ridge, every scratch.

There wasn’t much. Almost nothing actually. I caught some waves, but they fizzled out as quickly as they appeared, leaving me with little fragments here and there. I tried again to make sure, but came to the conclusion that this item couldn’t have been tied to a haunting. It felt more like they just took it from the deceased’s house than anything else.

“Umm, are you sure this is what you wanted me to touch?” I asked hesitantly, “It’s just that there’s not much here. I feel mostly just stress from it, but it’s very fragmented.” At my words everyone in the room chuckled, Hoseok’s face heating up until he was as red as a tomato.

“Good job,” Namjoon said, snickering in amusement and looking towards the embarrassed fox, “this isn’t an actual haunted item or an artefact. It’s one of those fancy pens they advertise to ghost hunters because it has an outer layer of silver on it. Well, Hoseokie-hyung here bought it as a joke and it ended up saving his life. But turns out that the energy of coming into contact with ghost plasm holds onto it well and it’s kind of cursed now.” That definitely caught my attention and I looked at the hybrid who was shooting daggers into the wolf.

“He was being a big old dummy and while handling the sources marked for destruction he dropped one and the case broke,” Seokjin jumped in to continue the story, “he had nothing but the pen in hand and he had to fend off a very angry and a very confused apparition. We heard him screaming and all ran here as fast as we could to see him running around the basement waving around a silver pen and hysterically yelling at a ghost.” At this point I was giggling along with the men, the fox laughing along too as if he saw the visual his mate was painting as well.

“It was the best day of my life,” Namjoon sighed through snickers, “I almost didn’t want to help him because it was too funny.”

“I love to hear that you’d let me die for your entertainment, Joonie,” the man in question grumbled, but it was all in good nature, that much was obvious through their fond looks they threw each other.

As the laughter died down, a more serious expression settled onto Seokjin’s face and he gazed back onto the shelves with active sources, this time eyes immediately locking onto a specific case that glowed strongly with cold, steely blue light.

The other two men quietened the second they recognised what the bear was looking at, ears flinching and flattening to their heads.

“I was curious about what you’d tell us about an item we have here,” Seokjin started explaining, a far-away look in his eyes, “but seeing how strong of a reaction you had to the comb, I think we better not.” I looked towards the case, head tilted in consideration.

It was obvious there was something different, something strange, about that specific artefact – and judging by their nervous stances it wasn’t anything good.

“I can try,” I said easily, moving towards the shelf. Seokjin made an aborted panicked sounds, hands shooting up to stop me, but ultimately he let me walk past him and do what I wanted. I turned back, looking at the men watching me with scared but curious expressions, I steeled myself and looked at it properly.

It was fairly small – a single skeleton finger with a bejewelled ring stuck onto it. I wasn’t sure what they exactly expected from that. I clearly couldn’t take it out as the apparition would no doubt immediately manifest, and you really couldn’t feel through the glass.

But oh how quickly I realised I was wrong about that. I raised my hand, hearing the gasps of the three hybrids, reached for it and promptly stopped. I felt almost paralysed with the wave of dark resentful energy rolling off of it in thick waves, so thick that I was almost choking on them.

Whoever that ghost was, he was strong, angry and dangerous enough for his energy to manifest even through protective silver casing. Panic gripped me, just blind fear that this shouldn’t be here – this shouldn’t be anywhere. Suddenly I was stumbling back, tripping over my own feet to put distance between me and whatever that thing was.

My wild terrified eyes found Namjoon’s own worried ones and I couldn’t hold back a whimper clawing its way out of my throat.

“What the fuck,” I gritted through my teeth, “is that? Why the fuck is that here?” The alpha seemed to be fighting off his instincts, my palpable fear and the whimper must have put him in for a spin to try and calm me down, but we didn’t know each other at all for any attempts to be appropriate.

I realised I was shaking, the hand with which I almost grabbed the artefact cold and frozen to the bone.

“It was one of our biggest cases,” Seokjin whispered, voice gentle and monotone as he slowly started moving towards me trying not to scare me more, “a nasty piece of shit, a killer in life and a killer in death. Jimin refuses to get any closer to it, says it gives him the creeps even through the glass. He’s been telling us it has an aura even through the protection case and here or there tries to persuade us to get rid of it. None of us can feel much, just that it has bad energy, so I got curious… I’m glad you didn’t touch it. Those are some memories you don’t want to see.”

The bear hybrid managed to get all the way to me, his soft grip to my shoulder grounding me into the present and finally breathing some warmth back into my frozen scared body. I relaxed enough to let him start dragging me back towards the stairs, the two other hybrids guiltily tagging along.

“Jimin has a fucking point,” I replied, “That thing should be destroyed.” There was still a slight tremble to my hands, and I realised for the first time that day I was feeling extremely cold. I mechanically forced my feet to carry me a stair after a stair, yearning for the cosy vibe of the sitting room and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Told you,” a new voice joined us from up the stairs and I jerked to look up, coming face to face with a pretty boy with big eyes and plump lips. White ears stuck out excitedly from a mop of black silky hair, but I couldn’t gauge what kind of hybrid he was.

“Jimin,” Seokjin sighed, pulling me closer to his side, “please go start up a fire in the green room.” The boy said nothing more, only winked at me good-naturedly and then disappeared back into the house.

When we made it into the green room – which was the sitting room across the one we were in before – there indeed was a fireplace and an excited hybrid loading it with wood. I looked at his snow-white fluffy tail, the shape of it flaring out a little towards the end, and realised he was another fox, an arctic one. He must have been the hybrid Hoseok was talking about before, the one that moved down here from up north.

“After that I’m afraid I must insist you stay for dinner,” Seokjin spoke again, voice firm and leaving no space for objections. And it was the polite thing to do, to object and pretend like I wasn’t dying to sit down by the fire and eat, but just that afternoon I wouldn’t – I was too tired and too shaken. I wanted that damn food and I’d take it.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered only, letting the man fuss over me with a blanket. Shortly after he ushered Namjoon and Hoseok away with him, muttering something about guests and Yoongi, which I didn’t fully comprehend.

Jimin still sat down by the fireplace, kindling the little fire and feeding it paper, but then he turned to me and watched me with interested curious eyes for a moment.

“You got the touch?” he asked finally, and I simply nodded. Another moment of silence.

“Did you touch the finger?” this question came a little quieter. I saw the warring emotions in his eyes – excitement over meeting someone with the same gift, apprehension of the cursed object and a worry over my well-being. I was grateful to him, to his easy friendliness that put me at ease.

“No… I couldn’t,” I whispered the reply, but he understood, he did all too well. He gave me an empathetic smile, which quickly melted into a smirk.

“Maybe now Joonie-hyung will finally listen to me and do something about that awful thing,” he teased, giggling and pulling me along with him.

I was just about to open my mouth with my own smart remark when a new face stormed into the room, immediately stopping in his tracks upon seeing me bundled up in the blankets in an armchair by the fire.

He was small, noticeably so once Seokjin arrived as well and stood next to him, but his form was obviously strong and lean, a quite typical build for a classically trained operative. He must have been a terror with rapiers, it was written all over him.

“Aish, I leave you three alone for an hour and this is what you do?” he scolded the guiltily looking trio, “Look at that poor kid, you totally traumatised her!” Jimin on the ground was giggling, watching their pulled back ears with delight, but I just sheepishly sunk further into the chair, cheeks pink over how strongly the unknown hybrid defended me.

Movement by his legs caught my eye and I finally noticed the kind of hybrid he was – that was definitely a white tiger tail swishing wildly behind him! I physically felt my ears perk up as my back straightened and my own tail raised in interest, which brought even more colour to my cheeks and stuttered up the black-haired man in the middle of his spiel.

Soon he was blushing too, and I realised he was reading my body language and I’ve just given myself away, quite spectacularly.

I felt the intense need to explain myself but there wasn’t really much to say – I was excited to meet another feline hybrid, one that wasn’t of my own community – because I’ve never met another cat outside the ones I grew up with, and those weren’t exactly great. But I just looked like I totally had the hots for him (which I totally didn’t).

“N-no- I mean- I just- I’ve never met a tiger hybrid,” I finally pushed out, ignoring Jimin’s teasing shit-eating grin where he sat by my feet next to the fireplace. Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin were watching me with open fascination, which was definitely better than the anger I was imagining they would feel over me obviously being into their mate (which I wasn’t!!! It was a misunderstanding, nothing more!!!).

The tiger in question shifted on his feet, hand going to scratch behind the striped ear, his own characteristics now betraying a curiosity and interest on his part. His gaze swept over my features, passive but warm.

“You’re a snow leopard, aren't you?” he asked and where Namjoon’s voice was deep and smooth, Taehyung’s voice was deep and sweet, this hybrid’s voice was deep and raspy, sending me into a whole new spiral at hearing it.

I barely even managed to nod, embarrassedly pulling my tail and pushing it into my lap before it divulged even more of my secrets. Jimin was smirking at me as if he knew exactly what I was going through, and I kind of wanted to kick him a little.

“I suppose you came down here fairly recently then? Your folk only mostly only lives up in the mountains and they’re pretty reclusive…” he asked some more, angling more towards me and I felt my treacherous tail twitch in my hands.

“Yeah, it was a pretty tight community,” I told him easily, “They’re not exactly… forward and… open-minded.” It felt weird to be sharing such a private information with people I’d just met a few hours ago, but apart from the fact that this was something mostly all hybrids kind of knew, in those hours they managed to make me trust their judgement and believe that even if I wouldn’t end up getting employed by them, they still cared for my comfort.

But subverting all my expectations, the hybrid who up until now stayed fairly neutral even with a soft blush to his cheeks suddenly smirked at me, taking in my wide-eyes and flushed face before saying: “Well, it’s an honour for me to be your first tiger.” and walking out nonchalantly.

The trio that he originally came in here while scolding them stood there wordlessly, eyes flitting between my embarrassed form, a little too amused Jimin and the empty space where the tiger used to stand. Then Hoseok made a non-descript delighted noise in the back of the throat, launching into a sprint while screaming at the top of his lungs: “Jungkookie, you have competition!”

I was very much confused, but judging from Namjoon’s embarrassed blush and Jimin’s outright evil snickers, I probably didn’t want to know.

Seokjin smiled blindingly and then walked away again, while Namjoon slowly slinked into the room and made himself comfortable at the other armchair, still watching me glare at the laughing Jimin with wide eyes.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect this outcome when you sneaked in today,” the wolf muttered, but there was a grin gently pulling at his lips. I was too embarrassed to banter and the attempt at a smile came out more as a grimace, so I just sunk deeper into the armchair and stubbornly looked on into the fire, ignoring the two giggling men.

“I’m sorry though,” Namjoon said quietly suddenly. I looked at him confused and I was surprised by the guilty expression on his face. “I’m sure this wasn’t the most pleasant of first meetings,” the hybrid muttered sheepishly, a bit of shame settled into his features.

“Namjoon-ssi, I made the decision to touch the source,” I told him firmly, hoping to alleviate some of his worry, “Seokjin-ssi was clear that I probably shouldn’t, but I wanted to try. You did nothing wrong.” The wolf didn’t seem much appeased, but he at least eased up a little, a little bit of determination creeping into his eyes.

“I’m going to get a bigger case and put it as a second barrier,” he proudly stated, more to himself than to us, and me and Jimin shared a glance before promptly bursting out into a fit of giggles. A sort of warmth settled into me, especially as distinctly recognisable voice of the brown bear shouted from somewhere that dinner will be ready shortly.

“Would be foolish to hope you’d like to accept the offer?” the question came out of nowhere, even Namjoon himself looking a little shy though he was the one who said it. I froze. Jimin stopped laughing. The happy chatter flowing in from the kitchen died down and everything settled into a buzz of anticipation.

The house was suddenly plunged into silence that I hadn’t heard since I stepped in, and the longer I was shocked at his words, the more I could see the alpha spiral that I’d inevitably reject him.

“I wasn’t aware you were waiting for my answer,” I uttered, teasing cheekiness creeping into my voice, and Jimin’s face once more morphed into a beautiful smile, “But I’d love to accept.” Namjoon smiled in relief, but both of our attentions were snatched by giggles coming from the artic fox.

“Of course she accepts hyung,” Jimin reiterated, “she wants to keep her first tiger.”

I’d never wished for the ground to swallow me so hard as I did in that moment.

Thank you for reading <3

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@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

@luvian-art @ldysmfrst @jinsleftairpod

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/4

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Series

Word Count: 8.9k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (P in V obviously), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, very slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Non-proofread smut. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) It's a bit of a long one, folks! Consider it a thank you for being so patient while I've worked through my writer's block. ( 2 ) Don't look too deep into the lore I've created because there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense. But if you are curious, then feel free to ask me any questions! ( 3 ) I'm but a writer that thrives off positive feedback (or even constructive criticism), so don't be shy when it comes to interacting with the post, or even me.

Happy reading! xoxo

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain. 

The demon clamped their mouth shut in fear that they may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before them. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on their pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” they cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for them, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to their knees, their jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

× × ×

“Legend says it's cursed.” 

You snorted a laugh as you looked up at the friendly face across the counter, though his expression was as serious as ever, causing your smile to falter slightly. 

“Cursed?” Might as well indulge him a bit if he was going to get all mega serious on you now. 

Nicholas was your go-to guy when it came to purchasing oddities and strange artifacts. He was good at tracking down the specific items you'd ask for but he also had a knack for snagging things he thought you'd find interesting. 

Your eyes dropped to the dagger as you leaned into the glass countertop. There was a twitch in your fingers to reach out and touch the item, to feel the cool metal against your fingertips, though you knew better. Nick was typically pretty light hearted and you two could share a laugh, but you knew when to stay within your lane when it came to his business. Don't touch it until he offers it to you. 

“From what I could find online, it's ancient, so old that no one can really say for sure how long it's been around. And you know how it goes with old things - always a curse or some shit attached to them.” 

Nodding in agreement to his words, your eyes paused upon the faintly noticeable sigil that remained etched into the dagger’s blade. The sigil is why you wanted the item, what you had asked Nick to search for in particular. 

“It's probably bullshit,” he continued, “but it was something about going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.”

“The website was in some foreign language and the guy I bought it from barely spoke English so I can't give you an accurate translation yet. Who even knows if it's legit.” 

The bell above the door dinging briefly overtook Nicholas' attention. He held a finger up to you to silently tell you to ‘hold on’, then he stepped around the counter to greet his new patrons. 

“It's legit,” you softly spoke to yourself as you gazed upon the dagger again. There was something drawing you to it; a warmth, a knowing. Your eyes focused in on the cloudy rubies - you knew they'd shine again with a thorough cleaning - and they pulled you closer and closer, your sights now level with the item. Had there been a flicker within the largest stone? Couldn't be. Your eyes were clearly playing tricks on you now. 

As Nick returned, you straightened your posture and smiled. “I'll take it.” 

“What?” Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but then only breathed out, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

“You know I have to charge you as if it's real, right? I mean, I haven't been able to fully inspect it myself or do anymore research, so I feel kinda like an asshole doing th-”

“Nick, it's fine.” You laughed while retrieving your wallet from your bag, fingers digging into the slot that held your credit card. “It's a chance I'm willing to take.” 

“Alright…it's your money.” 

A few minutes later and your new purchase was packaged and ready to go. Nick approached you with an outstretched hand that held the blood red box the dagger was stashed away in, uncertainty in his eyes. You knew he hated not knowing all the ins and outs of his inventory, especially when it came to something with such a hefty price tag. 

“Are you coming tonight?” He asked as you accepted the box which was now being held close to your chest. 

“It's the first show with our new singer but he's been fucking great in rehearsals. Really has an ear for the band.” 

You nodded, again flashing a friendly smile. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

After a bit more chit chat and hammering down the finer details on how the night would go, you said your goodbyes to Nicholas with the obvious promise of seeing him in a few short hours. 

Making your way out of the shop, phone in hand and AirPods nestled in your ears, you only looked up when you were about to cross the street. On the opposite side stood a man, his dark eyes set entirely on you. He was wearing all black with deep brown hair that brushed his cheeks, hands clasped behind his back. Something about him made your stomach do a flip and you felt a pull despite having no idea who this man was. 

Slowly, your feet began to carry you along the crosswalk. He remained in place, though a faint smirk dared to appear over his lips. Your cheeks flushed crimson and you had the urge to glance away like some timid little school girl, but there was something preventing you from looking anywhere but at him. 

“Come.” 

A voice drifted into your mind and then back out as if being carried by the wind. You knew that should've frightened you but you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the biting need to be near this unknown man. 

Then, he was suddenly gone and you were left empty. 

The blaring beep of a horn shook you, your body flinching in surprise from the sudden harsh noise. You looked over to the car that was inches from colliding with you, a hand waving all about behind the windshield and motioning for you to get the fuck out of the way. 

× × ×

 

Arms above your head, you loudly hollered along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end. Red lights flashed all around you, the stage illuminating and going fully dark in quick succession. Your hands collided in a fury of claps before lowering to cup around your mouth. 

“Wooooo!” You had never been much of a ‘woo girl’ but alcohol made it loads more enjoyable to do. 

You could feel the vibrations from both the noise you projected and the bass of the band in the hollow of your stomach, reverberating throughout your entire being. There was something sensual about it - being able to not only hear the music but also feel it. 

Nicholas’ band had been pretty decent before so coming to see them and support their gigs was never an issue. But now? They were fucking amazing. The new singer definitely added to whatever they had been lacking previously, even if there wasn't anything specific you could put your finger on. 

Did it help that the new singer happened to catch your eye a few times? Maybe. 

“Hey!” Nicholas yelled out for you after their set. He had found you at the bar towards the back of the club - just where you always were. 

“Hey yourself!” You called back as a fresh drink was set in front of you by the bartender. 

Nick rolled his eyes at you but still chuckled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, pupils blown from the adrenaline rush he had experienced while on stage. You always thought Nick was pretty cute and you both had a lot in common - he had even asked you out once - but things were better kept as friends between the two of you. As well as the occasional artifacts dealer, of course. 

“Didn't get a chance to see you before we went on, so let me introduce you to the newest member.” 

“Noah!” The guy spoke up for himself, his voice loud enough for him to be heard over the commotion of the crowd and also the next band setting up. 

You paused as your gaze met his, eyes squinting ever so slightly while taking in his face from this new close proximity. He looked just like the ethereal man you had seen outside of Nick’s shop earlier, but also…not. That guy had been finely dressed with much shorter hair and a presence about him that demanded attention, this guy in front of you was the epitome of a 'guy in a band'. Long hair, jeans blown out at the knee, worn Vans that told you he dressed for comfort. Their smiles were the same, though. 

Instead of giving your name, you opted for a question.  “Do you have a brother?” 

Noah extended to you a look of confusion though you swore you saw a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. 

 “Uh, no? Not that I know of.” Despite your weird question, he laughed and stepped a bit closer to you, his elbow leaning into the side of the bar top. 

Nicholas had fallen into conversation with another band mate, leaving just you and Noah to entertain each other. 

You spared him the explanation of why you had asked such a question. The last thing you needed was to seem creepy or more odd than you already did on a day to day basis. Thankfully it didn't seem as if that was going to deter him from cozying up to you at the end of the bar. 

Drink after drink was had with a couple of shots downed in between. You had found out that Noah had recently moved to Los Angeles, worked at a graphic design company, owned a cat, and shared a building with a rather odd Asian woman that liked to bring him homemade meals multiple times a week. 

You also discovered that you liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too wide and how he was always touching his face as if it was a comforting habit of some sort. 

“Nick said you like to collect…unusual things?” 

You cleared your throat and abruptly averted your gaze before he could realize you had been staring. 

“I guess that's one way to put it,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. Not even the alcohol could mask the embarrassment. 

“My dad was an antiques dealer, scam artist, whatever you want to call it.” You paused to take a swallow from your glass but to also let your honesty sink in. 

“So, I kinda just grew up with old objects that told a story. Buying them for myself - as someone who will care for them and their story - sounds better to me than allowing them to be on display in a stuffy museum somewhere.” 

“That's why you bought the dagger?” 

Huh…had you mentioned the dagger to him? Maybe not. Maybe so. Maybe Nick told him about it. Either way, you took in a deep breath, your head swimming from the alcohol. 

“Not exactly…” 

Noah looked at you curiously, silently asking for you to continue. To tell him. But how were you to explain that you awoke one day with this nagging obsession for the sigil stamped on the blade? That you desired to find every single item you possibly could that bore the same marking? It was impossible to divulge because you had no idea why you had become so hell bent on acquiring these things. You didn't even know what the damned sigil meant. 

“Did you want to see it?” 

And like he had been waiting for you to ask, Noah flashed a devilish grin.  

“I'd love to.”

× × ×

Pleasure erupted throughout your entire body as Noah kneeled between your spread legs. His hands held tight to your hips, pulling you down to grind against him with every forward thrusting motion. He groaned above you, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, revealing to you all the work he was putting in. 

And boy did you feel it. 

You had already cum twice - once from his mouth and again from him bending you over the arm of the couch when neither of you could make it to your bedroom fast enough. 

Most of the time even you had to pray the wind was blowing in the right direction so you could cum in a timely manner, yet Noah had managed to get you there in near record time. 

“Fucking hell! Right there!” You cried out as his cock pierced just the right spot within your drenched and aching cunt. Heavy pants escaped from you, each breath becoming louder and more pronounced the harder he drove his hips. 

Noah’s tattooed fingers dug deep enough into your hips that you knew you'd have bruises the next morning. They'd match the bruise you'd have on your ass from when he had you bent over and administered quite a harsh spank. 

He released your hips so he could trail his hands down along your tense thighs, kneading and massaging into the flesh. One hand continued its downwards trek to your clit as the other drifted up, pausing at your neck. Slender fingers secured around your throat and applied enough pressure to cause your heart to race and your breath to hitch, though not enough to cause any worry. 

Why would you ever be worried about hooking up with a stranger and allowing him into the privacy of your home? 

Noah's thumb swirled around your clit, each pass over the nerves causing your thighs to twitch and your hips to buck. He was then leaning over you so he could capture your lips in a hungry kiss, so much so that you swore you heard him growl against your lips. Not that you were fazed by this. 

“Uh uh,” he scolded after parting from your lips to gaze down at you. “Eyes open.” 

To show how serious he was in this demand, his hand further tightened around your throat, short nails digging into the sensitive skin. You gasped for air but it was all too much; the overpowering ecstasy that coursed through your every being as you felt his cock throb inside of you, the rigid veins that stimulated the tight walls of your pussy, his thumb on your clit, his onyx eyes never drifting from yours. 

How were you to survive this night? 

Your body tensed and your lower back arched as you felt the first ripplings of your orgasm. Your third orgasm. Then - everything released. You writhed beneath him, eyes finally closing which was no choice of your own, all while his name and a mixture of other profanities echoed through the room. 

In the midst of your climax, your vision was hazy from the intensity, as well as the lack of oxygen greeting your brain. With every blink Noah’s face shifted; it went from the band frontman you had met that night to the dark stranger across the street earlier in the day, then back again, only to repeat the cycle. There was no way that's what was really happening, so you chalked it up to your overactive imagination and mostly drunken state. 

The mess you made meant nothing to you, nor did the added mess of his cum when he managed to meet his ending in tandem. Noah’s hips lost momentum gradually before stilling completely, though your cunt continued to collapse and clench around him until your body finally settled. 

It wasn’t much later that Noah laid sprawled across your bed, his face pressed to the pillow, breathing steady after drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't have the same luxury. There was a darkness creeping into your mind, repeated phrases demanding things of you, things of which you had never considered before. 

“Do it,” the voice whispered in your ear. 

At first you assumed it was Noah by the brush of his hair on your face and the familiar grasp of his fingers around your waist. But when you glanced back, he hadn't moved a muscle. 

“It would be so easy…”

“You want to. I know you want to. I can smell it on you.” 

When your eyes opened, the blood red box from Nick’s shop sat at your side. It was unwrapped, the dagger staring up at you from its temporary home. Taunting. Begging. Screaming to be touched. 

You listened. 

Fingertips traced the metal of the handle, down to the tip of the dagger that remained sheathed. 

“Pick it up.”

The order from the disembodied voice was obeyed, the dagger soon resting in your grasp. Still, no one was in the room with you other than Noah’s sleeping form, so how did you feel a breath on your neck? 

Rubies embedded in the dagger shone before your eyes now that it was held up for you to admire. So beautiful. Just what you had been searching for all this time. 

“Do it.”

You knew what the voice was asking of you. You knew it would end in your demise. Yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you were…excited. Possibly even anxious for what was to come. 

“Do it!” The voice loudly rang out, deep and commanding in your mind. 

Both hands now gripped the handle of the dagger after you pulled it from its sheath.  Arms stretched out before you, the blade was perfectly angled just where you somehow knew it needed to end up. 

Right in your heart. 

“Do it! Now!”

With quick motion that held all of your strength, you impaled the dagger into your own chest. You could hear it break through the bone that protected your heart - your body no match to the power that lied within the weapon. 

“...going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.” Nick's voice now penetrated your mind, a memory from hours ago. His words being that of the loosely translated curse that the dagger held. 

As soon as the blade punctured your chest, you felt a sense of clarity. You knew what the curse now was: die by way of the blade, go straight to Hell. 

Eyes wide, you looked down to the dagger protruding from you. Blood spilled from the wound, coating your naked body, staining your sheets. You tried to call out for Noah despite knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. 

Gathering what remained of your strength, which was next to none, you again glanced back to where you expected to see him sleeping. Instead, he was standing at the side of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same smirk you had seen from the other Noah outside of Nicholas’ shop. 

In a blink you were then being cradled in his tattooed arms. His fingertips brushed your hair back from your face in the most loving of gestures, lips moving though you couldn't make out a thing he was saying. You couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. All you could do was allow yourself to be encased by the cold hands of death as it dragged you deeper and deeper down to the dismal abyss. 

“I'll see you on the other side, my love.”

× × ×

The forever night of the land taunted you as you gazed out the large window. Stars freckled the sky, twinkling and swirling cosmos in some spots, remaining still in most just as the night sky did back home. 

Home. 

Everyday that passed you forgot more and more what it looked like. 

You had remembered your death, all of your deaths, within minutes this time. Noah was beyond pleased, confessing that he always wondered if dying by your own hand was the trick though he had been nervous to see. Nervous to know what it would do to you. 

Well, now he knew. 

You were livid. Never had you felt so betrayed, and you made sure he was well aware of your anger towards him. Something told you that he felt it in your lack of appearances since you had yet to face him fully since arriving. 

“The Dark Lord has requested your presence today.”

A demon who had been appointed to your side ran a brush through your hair, gently ridding the strands of any tangles that had formed while you slept. You had told them day one that you could do it yourself but they insisted. Tending to you was now their duties and they had to do as commanded. 

“You can tell the Dark Lord to kiss my ass,” you mocked. 

The demon held back what you thought was the semblance of a chuckle, their unusually long fingers continuing to ready your hair for the day. 

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it would be best if you spoke with him. Perhaps let your grievances out however you see fit?” 

Had you not done that the moment your memories returned? You very much recall throwing a heavy tea pot at his head, although he had dodged it with ease. Were your shouts of frustration not enough? Your tears? 

It wasn't that you were upset to be back with him. You were more so mad about how he had gotten you here this time. There had to be some other way that left out the whole dying part. 

“What's your name?” 

The demon paused briefly at your question. You could tell they had never been asked before, though you weren't sure if it was because everyone else here knew how things went or if no one simply cared. 

“I don't remember.” 

This confused you. Shifting a bit in your seat, you turned your upper body to look at the creature. They were definitely a sight to behold; scaly skin that glistened as if perpetually wet, yellow eyes with only the smallest white pupil appearing like a cat’s, a row of chipped horns going down the center of their head. 

You had stopped being scared of the demons here long ago. 

“Lowly demons, such as myself, lose their names upon becoming what we are. We are simply demon. The others, the ones you've probably heard of in some capacity within your mortal stories, are given new names when they become His strongest warriors.” 

Out of all of your ventures here, you had never been told about the inner workings of the land. You found it to be interesting. 

“Oh…” You felt silly for even asking, now also concerned that you had probably brought up a sore subject for the demon. No name? No identity? You couldn't imagine. 

Once the demon had somehow managed to weave deep red garnets and black diamonds into your hair, you were sent off to where Noah would be waiting. You tried to fight it, arms crossed over your chest as you sat pouting on the edge of the bed, but eventually the demon helped you realize that Noah would see you whether you wanted it or not. It was wise for you to go to him. 

And so you did. Like some sort of invisible string leading you to him, you managed to find him standing on the large balcony that jutted out from the castle, overlooking his land in silence. His posture straightened upon sensing your arrival, gaze now set only on you. 

“You look…” Onyx eyes raked up and down your body, no shame detected within them as he took in the black gown you had been instructed to put on. You didn’t want to admit to him the way his heavy stare made you feel. There was already a tingling in your lower stomach that radiated down between your thighs - no. You wouldn't fall for it that easily this time. 

“Don't,” you merely requested, a hand being held up to signal for him to stop any further words. Steps were then taken around him so you could approach the railing of the balcony, the carved stone cool beneath your touch as you tightly grasped it. 

“You're still angry…”

You said nothing. Silence overtaking you. 

“I…” he began, his voice falling while trying to gather his thoughts. Never had he been so concerned about anyone else before. Never had he been forced to wonder what the right thing would be to earn your forgiveness. 

“I'm sorry that things had to happen this way.”

Well, that weak excuse for an apology definitely made you want to yell at him to shove it up his ass. 

Your jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from the death grip you held on the stone railing. It would surely crack and splinter if any more of your strength was to be endured. 

“I liked your hair better longer,” you finally spoke, though you didn't look his way. Instead, your gaze remained focused out into the night, slowly cataloging and memorizing every dip and valley. 

“That you was nicer.”

Noah slowly shook his head as he reached out to lightly touch your hair, heated fingertips brushing the strands from your bare shoulder to reveal the curve of your neck. 

“Funny, because that was me, just in a slightly altered form to keep up appearances.”

As if he could read your thoughts, he continued. 

“I was never human, you know this. So, there are no other versions of me like there have been of you. There's only one. That's how it'll forever be.” 

Anger flared within you. “You're telling me…that you've been able to come to Earth this entire time? That I haven't needed to brutally die again and again to be with you? You are an insufferable mons-”

A strong hand grasped your arm, turning your body and pulling you in closer. You could tell that Noah wanted to speak to you as if you were one of his demons, someone for him to control, but he managed to contain his rage. 

“Do you know the danger I put my entire realm in just to walk amongst the living with you for an extended period of time? To go for my own selfish reasons and not because of my duties? To help guide you back to me? You're blind to the repercussions this land faced. Souls piled up, punishments halted, everything at a standstill. Do you think that has ever happened before?”

Silence as your eyes searched his. 

“We may have spent one night together on Earth, but the sheer amount of deaths within that singular night that went unprocessed…” 

Noah shuddered at the thought, his grip on you then loosening before releasing completely. 

“Think of me what you will, but what I did was for us. Everything I've done, and will do again and again, for us.”

You wanted to understand. You wanted to touch his face and tell him everything was okay. You wanted to press yourself into him and let his warmth overtake you. 

You wanted so many things, but none of it was what you did. 

Instead of giving into these wants and needs, you gave him one last look and then turned on your heel to saunter back into the farthest reaches of the castle. 

× × ×

The only thing you truly despised about this place was the lack of time. While you had an abundance of it, more than you could ever ask for, you still had no idea how much had passed. Days? Months? Hell, maybe a century? Time didn't work the same way here as it did on Earth, which you already knew, but it surely did drag when you were choosing to spend it alone. 

You had attempted to keep track of it at the beginning but eventually gave up when nothing fit the way it should have in your human mind. Noah even offered to set a sleep schedule, though that disappeared rather fast when his duties became too much to juggle along with it. 

A heavy sigh expelled from you as you flipped over onto your back. Your eyes stared through the darkness of your bedroom and up to the high ceiling where the same stars as the night sky beyond the open window danced along. A neat little trick Noah did when he knew you were restless. He may have been an asshole but he knew how to make you melt when showing his softer side. A side no one had ever seen before you. 

With another huff, you caved. 

Moments later you were standing in front of his bedroom door after having gently knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing his relaxed form sitting upon a grandeur bed with papers strewn about. It was always funny to see him do actual work especially when you had never witnessed anyone outside of the demons wandering the halls. 

Sometimes you'd hear other voices when he was locked away in his study, but nothing beyond that. 

“Stars didn't work?” 

You twisted your lips, head shaking in a single motion. 

“They're nice - beautiful - but it's not the same as…” you trailed off for a moment while trying to decide how much of your pride you were willing to spill down the drain. Not the same as when we're laying together. 

Noah noticed, he knew what you were going to say. He allowed you to keep the stubborn pride for now. In a snap the papers cleared away from a spot on the bed for you, an invitation to join him. 

Sitting against him, your knees bent to the side and your head resting on his shoulder, he continued to work. He would occasionally look over at you, brush your hair back, lightly touch your lips or cheek, then focus again. 

How you had managed to wrap Death around your finger, you would never know. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Noah nodded, the paper in his hand being placed down so he could fully focus on you now. Another thing you loved about him: he never made you feel as if your presence was a bother. No matter what he was in the middle of. 

“Is this how you've always looked? Or do you only appear like this to me?” 

A crooked smile appeared on his features, his eyes crinkling in the corners just as you remembered from your brief time on Earth with him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Avoidance - as usual. 

“I don't know…I mean, when it comes to humans, you are either shown as a skeleton in robes or this otherworldly beautiful man without flaws.” You shrugged. 

You didn't add on that you were also curious as to what was real. 

Noah didn't taunt you for your poor wording choice. He knew he was beautiful and he knew that you also knew this, but he understood what you meant. 

“Technically,” he began while rubbing his chin as if trying to find the right way to describe it to you, “I'm without a body because what I am transcends physical being.” 

Okay, that you could understand, at least for the most part. Was it still an odd thought? Yes, of course. All of this was odd. 

“But I've chosen to take on a flesh and blood form, even before you came along the first time. It helps to do so in my line of work…so the souls can relate, maybe feel a bit of comfort for a brief moment.” 

As he spoke you traced random designs and patterns into the top of his thigh, your fingertip slowly dragging along the soft material of his pants. You inwardly smirked to yourself when you noticed him shiver as your fingers traveled higher along his inner thigh. 

“I may have adjusted a few things specifically for you, though.” 

“That's why you have all the tattoos?” Your hand left his thigh so you could lightly touch the front of his neck, eyes focused on the inked designs that were quite an interesting choice for him. The religious visuals weren't lost on you - you knew why he had chosen those in particular. A cruel mocking to those above. A middle finger to the “Light Ones” who were always trying to act all better-than-thou. 

You didn't tell him that this was quite a human response just to spare you the glare he would surely respond with. 

“And the lisp?” You further teased, a smile finally gracing your lips again. 

“Again - makes me relatable.”

You hummed in thought, watching him as he watched you. Noah had yet to return to his work meaning he knew there was more you wanted to say. And while this was true, you were more so transfixed by how close you two were. You could feel his breath on your face and see the patterns of different brown shades within his irises, both combined drawing you closer and closer until finally your lips collided with his. 

Were you still mad at him? Yes, very much so, but that didn't change the feelings you had for him. The tether between you was far too strong, probably impossible to snap. 

Noah didn't waste any time as your kiss deepened and intensified. He leaned back into the pillows of his bed, drawing you with him until your body almost completely covered his. You touched along his face and down his chest, eager fingers tugging and pushing at the shirt he wore. You needed him now. 

There were moments when you both liked to take your time, each unwrapping the other like a precious gift, fully savoring the anticipation. Then there were times when it was impatient and needy, as if you couldn't get him inside of you fast enough. Simply a blur of hands until you were both naked without the pesky barriers of clothes getting in the way of your desires.

One guess as to which side you were both currently feeling. 

As your clothes were stripped away, flimsy lace being tossed aside, you further crawled on top of him. Knees pressed down onto either side of his hips, your nails scratching along his inked chest before firmly grasping his broad shoulders. The kiss you shared had yet to cease, both of you kissing the other with a desperate need; sweeping tongues and clashing of teeth. 

Noah released your hips to cup your breasts within his large hands, thumbs skimming and circling your sensitive nipples to pull a faint whimper from you. Chills formed over your heated skin, your teeth roughly sinking into his lower lip that caused him to hiss and pinch your nipples in return. 

“Behave,” he lowly threatened while you could only pout in response. 

Both hands then fell from your chest; one dropped to begin pushing his last article of clothing down as the other gripped tight into your hair. Noah roughly yanked your head to the side to further expose your neck, his lips immediately kissing a hot trail to your jaw. He knew exactly what teasing your neck did to you, arousal pooling between your thighs as you needily whimpered for him. 

“And you thought you'd be able to stay away.” 

You wanted to knee him right in the side for the petty comment, but he was already adjusting your position and tugging you higher up on his hips so you could hover above his hard cock. 

Noah smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot right below your ear. The moment his teeth nipped at the same spot he pushed your hips down so the wide swollen head of his cock could force through your tight entrance. You gasped and he groaned in unison, his own muscles straining from the vice grip your cunt already had on him. 

“I can stay away,” you countered. “I just didn't want to.”

The devilish gleam returned to his eyes while gazing up at you, knowing that deep down you also knew you couldn't stay away. It didn't matter what your stubborn protest said. 

Releasing your hair, both of Noah’s hands held tight to your hips. You were still trying to adjust to his size, slowly easing yourself down another inch, but he was clearly much more impatient than you were. This was proven when he forced your hips all the way down until they sat flush against his, the entirety of his cock tunneling through your pussy. Of course how wet you were helped, but nothing could ease the tight stretch. 

Your head tossed back as you released a loud moan, all other thoughts leaving your mind except for those of him. Sharp nails dug so deep into his chest that you swore you would draw blood - not that Noah would care. 

“Good girl,” the Dark Lord rasped. 

His impatience didn't end there. Although he wanted to be kind and let you find your bearings, there was truly no need when he was well aware that you liked things just as he did: rough, animalistic, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Keeping you steady atop him, his hips thrusted up from the bed in rapid succession, angling just right to make sure your body quivered and your cries of pleasure never ceased. Noah loved watching you come undone for him, loved seeing your stubbornness overtaken by your pure need for the sensations that only he could give you. Everything about it, from the sounds you made to the way your face contorted in pleasure, was addicting. 

You could barely contain yourself as he continued to drive his throbbing cock straight up into you. Your pussy fluttered, more and more of your arousal slipping free until it ran down his length and helped aid in his endeavors to completely ruin you. Noah knew that you were already close, he could tell by the way your moans became more frequent and heightened in pitch. 

“That's it,” he grunted as his hands tightened around your waist and he forced you down to roughly meet the upward thrusts of his hips. “Let go.”

As if on command, your body seized and your back arched. An orgasm ripped through you, claiming full control as you trembled and your hips jerked, the pleasure so intense that you couldn't even make a sound. 

Noah had no intentions of stopping, though. He settled down against the bed, still buried as deep as possible within the warmth of your climaxing cunt. His grip fell from your waist to your hips, now guiding you in a back and forth grind to keep you overstimulated and whimpering for him. 

“You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” 

In a swift motion he had you on your back, the papers from his work crunching beneath you, some digging into your skin but it was of no concern to you right then. You were basking in the high of your orgasm, well aware that there was more to come. Noah never stopped at just one. He had to bring you as close to breaking as he possibly could before he was satisfied. Sometimes that could be done in as little as two rounds and sometimes you were at it for hours until you had lost count of your orgasms and forming any sort of coherent thought was impossible. 

Not daring to pull out from your warmth, Noah brought one of your legs over so your lower half twisted for him, leaving you open and vulnerable but still capable of seeing each other. You quivered as you felt the thick rigid veins that lined his cock throb when they shifted within you, every inch of you sensitive from the orgasm you were still coming down from. 

Noah had a hold of your ass in one hand and your thigh in the other to make sure you remained right where he wanted you as he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock remained. Then, he used every bit of strength he had to thrust right back into you, the pace being set slow but impossibly hard. Your jaw clenched and your toes curled, your body barely able to handle what Noah presented to you. 

You shook your head, squeaks and whimpers of words unsaid escaping from your throat. He knew what he was doing to you, though. He knew exactly what angles to fuck you from that would leave you dumb - for lack of a better term. 

“Is it too much for you, my love?” He taunted, a mock sympathetic tone to his voice. 

To show that he didn't care, he only picked up his speed, the driving force behind his hips remaining relentless. The harsh slap as your bodies collided sounded through the room, followed by a piercing smack when his strong hand came down upon your ass cheek, mixing with your symphony of moans. Your walls ached and burned but you didn't dare request he stop, not even for a moment, though you didn't truly want him to. You loved when he would get like this, a sort of sadistic gleam flaring in his dark eyes despite trying to pleasure you to the best of his abilities. 

“Touch yourself.” 

The demand made you whine under your breath. Noah knew what he was doing. You managed to slip your hand down between your clamped thighs, a fingertip brushing the swollen nerves ever so softly, but it was enough to make your body twitch and your cunt clamp tighter around his cock. His brows pulled together, the hold he had on you tightening. 

It was too much. Your body was so sensitive, and touching your clit was that mixture of pleasure and pain that made your abdomen muscles tense and your hips writhe. 

“I didn't say to stop,” Noah hissed through gritted teeth. How he had known you paused your fingers over your clit, you weren't sure, but you quickly obeyed his demand again. 

“N-Noah…” you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to spill over. You looked up at him through your watery vision, though you were still able to make out the smirk he wore upon his flushed cheeks. Not even the damp strands of dark hair could cover that look in his eyes as he gazed down at you, enamored with all that you were. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “If you stop, then so do I.” 

Fuck. That was the last thing you wanted. It may have been too much and overwhelming but you were desperate to cum again. Not only that, but you needed to feel him filling you as well. You needed his cum seeping out of you, warming you from the inside out. Breathing a life into you that was ironic for Death. 

His grip remained tight on your thigh though his other hand slithered up to knead at your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh, pinching and tugging your nipple. You were getting close again, so so close. As your own fingers continued to rub your clit, each stroke sending electric shocks through you, you released moan after moan, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Next time we should place a bet on how long you can go without my dick,” he spoke through his own groans, the strain evident in his voice. 

Noah released your breast and instead secured his long tattooed fingers around your throat. His grip was tight, a silent reminder that he could easily crush your airways if he ever had the desire to do so. Which he didn't - he would never lay a hand on you in ways you didn't beg for - but the danger of it, the possibility, radiated down to your core and helped build your oncoming climax. 

“I know you're constantly needy for it. I can smell your arousal when I'm near, so sweet and intoxicating…” 

His voice was raw and deep, each word sending you closer to the edge. Every touch to your body felt like a flame licking your skin, tears still welling in your eyes, your cunt desperate for both your release and his. 

“Please…” you begged in a breathless whisper as your fingers circled your clit in a messy rhythm, unable to get pace with his brutal pounding. 

Noah’s lips twitched within his lingering smirk when your pleas met his ears, the sound causing his cock to twitch and his hips to snap in a quick succession into you. 

A single nod was given, allowing you the gift of an orgasm, and also letting you know that even he couldn't find his words anymore. He was far too focused on the tight grip of your pussy that was swallowing him deeper, almost like he could hear it begging for his cum. If that didn't feed his already oversized ego, then nothing would. 

The pressure built until you couldn't stand it anymore. Your fingers and toes tingled, a white hot heat exploding throughout the entirety of your body as you were overcome with your orgasm. Sharp nails raked down his forearm, skin breaking in their path and sullying the tattoos, though you knew it would heal rapidly. Your cunt erupted in a rush that soaked the sheets and also managed to push Noah right over the edge with you. Typically he had better control, but sometimes it was even too much for him. 

“Fuck…you're so good at taking it, you always are.” 

A final thrust had him emptying inside of you, feeding you that particular warmth you had been desperate for. You hummed in delight, your eyes heavy lidded but focused solely up on him so you could witness his undoing. Noah’s eyes closed and brows furrowed, his jaw falling slack as your name was groaned from him once, twice, three times. You could feel his muscular thighs trembling and you just knew he was trying his best not to collapse on you from the power of his orgasm and also the workout he had just put himself through. 

Neither of you had fully calmed before he was leaning down and forcing his lips to yours. He held firm to your chin for the duration of the hungry kiss, though it didn't last nearly as long as you would have preferred. 

Breaking from the kiss, Noah sat back up so he could slowly withdraw from your depths. He groaned at the sight of your mixed finishes dripping free, only to gently slide two fingers into your pussy with the gathered cum so you didn't lose a drop. You whimpered at the feeling, legs now spread in front of him and knees shaking. 

“Noah,” you murmured in a faint whine. “I can't.” 

Your protest didn't stop his fingers from slowly working their way in and out of your sore pussy, the strokes gentle but still overwhelming. 

“I know, my love, I just wanted to see those tears again.” 

And tears you had - a couple of stray drops falling down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat that you both exuded. 

Only when he was satisfied did he remove his fingers, just to bring them to your awaiting lips. As if on instinct you pulled them into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue swirling around his inked digits to clean his cum and yourself from them. 

“Good girl.” 

Thankfully, Noah let you rest. He easily could've gone again and again but he knew you were merely a mortal (undead or not) and he didn't want the fine line between pleasure and strictly pain to be crossed. Experiencing both was one thing, something you both enjoyed and gave consent to, but forcing you to entertain only the latter for his own selfish needs was not desirable to him. 

You drifted in and out of restful sleep as you curled into Noah’s side. Your head rested upon his chest, legs tangled, his strong arm encompassing you and keeping you close. The featherlight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down your arm brought goosebumps forward, though the loving affection had you luling to sleep again. That is, until he spoke what had been plaguing his mind. 

“They're going to come for you,” he murmured, a sadness in his voice. “The Light Ones.” 

A slight sound escaped you, your head slowly shaking. Your own arm circled around his bare torso, now hugging yourself even closer to his form. Even though he was Death, something everyone feared, he had always brought a sense of peace over you. 

“Why do you let them?” 

In the past Noah had protested when they'd come for you; he would yell and threaten and make them force you away from him if they were going to take you. Never did he truly fight, though. 

A deep inhale caused your head to drift up, and then slowly back down when he exhaled. You knew he was trying to find how to word his response in a way you would understand, or at least so he wouldn’t inadvertently offend you. 

“Because at least then I know I'll see you again. If I fight, go to war for you, the Light Ones could end your bloodline completely.” 

“As in…”

“You would cease to exist. No other versions. No rebirths. I'd only have my memories of you to keep me going for the rest of eternity.” 

All of that for one lousy human? That was the main thing that had always confused you. You didn't understand why you being with Noah was so frowned upon. Why they wanted to make him suffer. Why they were determined to keep you apart. What sort of threat did his happiness pose? 

“It's not 'normal’ for us to love because it's not what we were created for, especially not me. The Light Ones claim to have love for all, whereas I'm supposed to be the other side of the coin - the hate.” Noah took in another deep breath as if explaining it all to you physically pained him. Having to admit what his purpose was…it brought him hurt, and in turn, that hurt you. 

“So for me to love, and to place all that love in one person, it makes me…” he paused and his arm around you tightened. 

���It makes us dangerous.” 

This is when you tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes met and you offered a gentle smile, one to show him that you understood, but that didn't mean you had to accept it. You wouldn't. Not anymore. 

“I'm tired of only being able to see you in death,” you softly spoke. Your fingertips grazed slowly along the underside of his jaw and then down the curve of his neck, your gaze following the trail. When you got to the snake you paused, your nail lightly tracing the outline. “I want to fight.” 

Noah shook his head and soon his hand clasped around your own, your fingers intertwining together. “I won't risk losing you forever. I can't.” 

“And I will,” you challenged, your voice stern. “What you do here in your realm should be none of their concern. You're the fucking King, remember? Or have you already forgotten yelling that at me millenia ago?” 

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of his lips - of course he remembered. Noah remembered every minute, every second, that he has ever spent with you. Nothing could take those memories from him. 

“We'll discuss this further in the morning, after you've slept and had some breakfast.” 

With that, Noah blew the candle out on the conversation. The dark now surrounded you both, only the twinkling of the stars he had summoned able to be seen on the ceiling above. 

[ohno-the-sun]

Spoiler heavy fnaf ruin dlc rant up ahead

I am so fucking proud of steal wool they really took every criticism from the original game and fixed it and even added more

Like Cassie actually acts like a human being?? And like her knowledge of the original characters and cute little comments on every item are so endearing there is so much detail going into this.

The fact that they expanded on one of the fan faves Roxanne and giving her a great arc I’m in love I’m so happy

They honestly gave more depth to all the animatronics too like we finally see Bonnie’s design and get and get a taste as to what happened, also that poster Freddy gifted him I’m crying they are so cute and gay I love them

😭😭😭

Also the whole dark ride section with Monty is so fascinating like is that narrative kind of true or is it just fabricated by fazbear inc to cover up the decommissioning of Bonnie

Why replace Bonnie with Monty?? Why not make a new Bonnie model?? With the prototype label on Freddy it may be confirmed that they make multiple models (well we already kinda knew that with Freddies comments but oh well)

Also Freddy?? Like is that our Freddy or a different one?? They very clearly highlighted the prototype label so they want to emphasize it, but then the head is still missing like in the princess quest ending so what is the truth??

Feel bad for chica fans tho she really was sidelined hard

Aaaaa and my baby boys!!! There’s 3 now aaahaga

I was really not expecting eclipse to be the way they were, very… normal? Is that the right word?? Like obviously a little delusional on when the daycare is gonna open again, but in the right mindset of like this child needs to leave this place is not safe. It is interesting to me that both he and Roxy thought that it was Cassie’s birthday, maybe that was the last day before she left the plex? Or maybe that was the day the plex caught fire? Or maybe most depressingly we are playing on Cassie’s birthday so the animatronics have it in their systems what her birthday is and wish her a happy one (if they are in the right state of mind lol)

Some peeps are upset moon is a little too villainous

I think you can still say it was mainly the virus but I would argue even if it’s not the virus I feel like moon is kinda justified here. Like sun has been shutting him away for a long time before this (if the books are to be believed but also in general) so when he finally gets a chance to roam free of course he’s gonna take it. And idk about u but if my alternate personality was constantly trying to shut me out and I finally got control, I probably too would try and keep my control for as long as possible. Also from what I have seen so far, not even moon is all that aggressive? Like he grabs you at the beginning, but I think that’s just his very ineffective way to get kids to sleep and other than that he just kinda stays away

Poor sunny baby is stuck in the ar world 🥺🥺 I didn’t notice at first but yeah everytime you talk to him it’s only in the ar world. And the end part where you switch them out for eclipse if you do that in the ar world, he says not for me it’s for moon.

I will say though I noticed the voice acting for them changed a little this game, like both have a higher pitch and are more goofy sounding? Like more gremlin energy than evil villainy. I wonder if that was on purpose? Both of them sounded more like the other so maybe that was the reason? Interest interest

Also their mouth moves?? Sort of?? That’s so silly to me they have a whole working mouth system and their face mask doesn’t work with at all 😭

Does give me lore intrigue tho cause like why do their mouths move but not anymore?? Did something happen?? Are they just not maintained enough?? They also move outward instead of up and down (at least from what I saw) so is the mechanism different?

Also the way that sun and moon talk about eachother is so interesting. Like moon says the light hurts “us” and sun says “no the other me” like they seem to almost consider eachother more connected than we first thought, like they’re not just coworkers or strangers they are almost like two sides of the same person. It’s very interesting and I wonder where people will take this.

Overall great job I’m so excited to comb through the game and find every little secret (especially regarding the dca) aaaa

Ok ok update moon does have a jump scare but it’s ridiculously hard to get and I’d still argue he’s not as vicious as he was base game. I mention in another post but eclipse being as kind as he is and being (presumably) a combination of both AIs, gives even more evidence moon is supposed to be kind and caring like his posters suggest but something went wrong. Also Cassie’s comments on their plushes show that there were kids who truly liked the daycare.

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂 AO3 link

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when he’s smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

ETA: now with another art piece by @olliveolly

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Okay so in Play My Way...

WHICH IS CANON BTW WE ARE NOT DEBATING THIS!

I slowed down the video and screen capped the images that flashed onscreen during the choruses. (I skipped the ones of Amanda and Wooly dancing because they seemed to just be cute lil pictures and not lore-important).

First off we got monster Amanda here with a bunch of eyes... watching her?

Then we have Amanda with a tragedy mask. This does happen during the line "play our part" so it could be referencing the fact that they are performing for the TV... that said... I don't like Amanda's face here... it almost appears like she's playing a tragic character on purpose... which I guess makes sense... but could this imply that her intentions may be more... nefarious than we originally thought? I mean she is the main character of this HORROR game. (But they could never make me hate you Amanda.)

Wooly's section is even more interesting

During the whole "play our part" line there's a drawing of Amanda and Wooly playing with a demonic hand dangling over their heads. Hameln no longer seems to be actively involved with Amanda... they seem to be trying to "destroy the evidence" that said... could the demons be in control of the show now? If the show is trapping souls that would make a lot of sense. While it does look like the hand of Amanda's demon, it could also just be representing Hameln. It does seem rather ominous the way it's looming over them. Or is it helping them? (if it is Amanda's demon, that is).

When it says "don't let it break your heart" I didn't notice this the first couple watches but... Amanda and Wooly are holding hands here. Though their heads are obscured by the words... interesting...

But this is the most interesting thing to me. "Just play along and never-" Wooly half-transformed in his monster form (the way Amanda is in the lonely kitten scene shows up). Let me be a little indulgent and say that I think this could imply that Wooly is trying SUPER hard not to demon-out like Amanda did. Like... not to lose control or whatever. No mental-breakdowns allowed. This just... even if it's not that I think this reveals something and that something is A LOT.

Actually... all the images are shown clearer at the end... so here's what I notice further. (IDK where some of these came from. I had the video at 0.25 and they all still went by super fast).

Okay so yeah, the demon hand thing.... um... wait a minute... what the heck? Why is Wooly's face scribbled out? That's kind of dark Wooly... Still Amanda is smiling in this. So she seems to be okay with the demons presence- Actually the whole face-scribbled out thing here could be a reference to how Wooly isn't aware of the demon's presence? Like in the story book tape where his eyes went black? But I have a feeling there's more to it then that.

There's Amanda and Wooly holding hands and being friends. That picture is way more cute colored. All of the drawings shown in Amanda and Wooly's segments seem to look like they were drawn by kids, like stylistically wise with the scribbles and crayons.

Amanda is BREAKING IT DOWN. I saw this pic in the video but didn't cap it because it didn't have much lore relevance other than maybe we could say Amanda might be a good dancer ig? :)

Wooly on the other hand broke all of his bones... oof.

And his face is scribbled out again... dang it Wooly. Amanda looks really sad in that picture too. Maybe it represents their falling out. They are a lot more distant than all the other pictures and their body language is closed off so maybe?

It's interesting how they were clearly still friends in all the Hide and Seek material... I wonder what happened.

[genjispeace]

Looks Good on You - Oneshot

In which you accidentally end up wearing one of Genji's hoodies. He likes the way you look in his clothes, maybe a little too much.

tags: smut, slight fluff, genji x reader, gender neutral reader but afab, unprotected sex, genji is a tease

a/n: i don't really write smut, so go easy on me lol but I hope you enjoy. also this is not meant to be accurate to the lore

(using the same gif as price of love because i am OBSESSED)

Living at Overwatch Headquarters has its pros and cons. You do get free food, and the security makes danger nearly impossible. The cons, though? Well, you somehow got roped into laundry duty as your chore for the week. It could be worse, at least. You could have gotten the chore of cleaning the mats in the training room again. That one was pretty bad. At least for laundry, you are basically sorting it out and delivering it to people. You pull a hoodie over your head and start to leave your room. The next load of laundry should be done by now, and you can sort it and take it to its owner, then start the next load, then you can finally head to bed. 

You know the instant you put the hoodie on that something is wrong. It doesn’t fit quite the same way that your clothes do. You don’t have the energy to change, though, so you don’t worry about it and head out your bedroom door.

It doesn’t take you long to reach the laundry room and you grab the empty basket meant  for the dry clothes. You take a look at the bottom of it, and see “GENJI SHIMADA” scrawled across the plastic surface in marker. So it’s Genji’s clothes you’ll be delivering tonight. Your stomach does a slight flip as you start to unload the dryer. You’ve always had a small crush on Genji, but you forced yourself to always push it away. Sure, he is alluring and handsome, but it had to be just like any other crush you would get over. It would never happen.

Unlike other crushes, though, it never went away. You would find yourself watching him train, entranced by his graceful yet calculated movements. You would find his eyes in a crowd of people. He’d bring a smile to your face every time he talked. Your skin would burn whenever his touch happened to graze it. It’s frustrating how he had such an effect on you, and it is even more frustrating that you’re sure it is one-sided. 

You push the thoughts of your pointless crush down and pick up his basket of clean clothes. His room is relatively close to the laundry room, so you thankfully don’t have much time to think about him on your way there. You reach his door and pin the basket against your hip to knock softly on the door. 

The door quickly opens, and your breath is nearly knocked out of your chest. Genji stands there, his black hair disheveled in a way that makes him look all too tempting. He’s wearing a fabric face mask loosely over the lower part of his face instead of his typical metal one. He has on sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a black long-sleeved shirt that is tight around his figure. You can nearly see the muscles of his abs through it, but you snap your vision back to his face quickly, worried he would catch you ogling otherwise. His crimson gaze watches you.

“I have your laundry,” you say. He steps aside, letting you walk into his room. You’ve been in his room before, having delivered his laundry multiple times. His lamp is the only light in the room, keeping it mostly dark. He closes the door behind you, walking to take the basket from you. 

“Is that my hoodie?” His voice is husky and slightly muffled from the mask. You frown, looking at the sleeves of the black hoodie.

“Is it?” You ask. It did feel strange when you put it on.

“Well, it has my last name on the back, so unless we got married without me knowing, I’d say you got mine,” he says with a slight chuckle as he puts his basket on the bed and starts taking the folded clothes out and stuffing them into his dresser. You laugh too, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Nah, I married your brother and didn’t tell you,” you keep laughing. You remember once you mentioned how handsome you thought Genji’s brother was, and despite Genji and his brother  being on good terms now, Genji’s eyes darkened then. They darken now, too, and he shakes his head. He knows you’re joking, but there is still a spark of something in his crimson eyes. You talk yourself out of thinking it’s jealousy. He’s certainly not jealous of you talking about his brother. 

“Haha. Very funny,” he says. His muscles flex as he moves, and you have to fight the feeling of getting mesmerized by it. 

“Seriously, though, I’m sorry. Whoever did the laundry last must have given it to me by accident. I’ll give it back tomorrow,” you say. 

“Why not now?” Genji asks. He moves the now empty laundry basket to the floor, and his full attention is on you now. Your cheeks start to warm as he watches you, waiting for a response. He sits on the edge of his bed.

“Well, uh, I’m kinda not wearing anything under it,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up even more. You hope it’s dark enough for him to not notice, but you can see him clearly, so surely he can see you too. 

“Ah, well give it to me when you get the chance,” Genji says. He seems utterly unaffected by the thought of you wearing his hoodie with nothing under it. Though, you do notice the way his eyes glimmer, but you aren’t sure why. 

“Nope. It’s mine. I’m keeping it now,” you say, hoping to raise the tension you start to feel in the air as he watches you. 

“That’s fine. It looks good on you anyway,” Genji says, but there is no humor in his voice. Is he trying to joke, or is he serious? Surely, he’s messing with you. If it were possible, you’re sure your cheeks would heat even more. You want to change the subject so badly before you say something you’ll regret. He leans back in his bed, resting his hands behind himself. He looks too good like that, and you have to look away. You see his metal mask sitting on his dresser near you and reach out to it.

It feels hard in your grasp, and you hold it up to your face. It covers the lower part of your face. You glance at him over it, and find him watching you intently. His eyes dart along your face, then return to your eyes. 

“What do you think? Does it suit me?” You say, a slight giggle in your voice. Genji looks at you in silence, his eyes glazing like a fire. You start to take the mask away, but Genji moves  quickly and, in the blink of an eye, he is standing in front of you with a grasp on your wrist. You look up at him, through your lashes, confusion wracking your features. 

“Genji?” You ask. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispers softly. He sounds as out of breath as you feel. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. You try to pull the mask away, but he tightens his grasp and you stop trying to move. “I’ll take it off if I offended you.”

“That’s not it,” he says. 

“I-” you start, but cut yourself off. He’s standing close enough to you and his chest is nearly touching you, and you try to take a step back to clear your mind a bit, but you feel the wall against you. Did he back you against the wall? Your brain clouds with thoughts you should not be having about him. You try to walk away, but his spare hand moves against the wall and cages you in. 

“To be honest, you look fucking delectable. So irresistible,” he says. Your heart jumps in your chest as you look up at him. His crimson gaze holds yours, and a shiver runs up your spine. His voice is so low and husky, like it’s laced with desire. 

“Genji,” you sound breathless to your own ears. He releases the arm holding you, and you lower the mask. He reaches out, running his thumb along your lips. You almost sigh at the feeling of his touch against you. It’s his human hand, and his skin is so soft against you. You have to admit that you have thought about a moment like this before, but never thought it would actually happen. 

“Can I ask you something?” Genji asks. You nod. You’re pretty sure you would agree to anything he asks you right now. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

Your eyes widen, just slightly, at his question. You feel embarrassment start to invade your feelings. Of course you have thought about having sex with him before. Though, you are far too stubborn to admit it. You shake your head. Genji’s hand moves to the base of your skull, yanking on your hair and forcing a tilt in your head, so you have to look into his head. You sigh at the feeling of his hand in your hair, and you pray you don’t notice.

“You’re a bad liar,” he whispers. “You’re saying you’ve never thought about me?”

You aren’t able to shake your head again, but you don’t nod. How can you admit to something like that? Genji leans closer, until your face is practically touching the mask, then he dips his head. His hand that was caging you in pulls his mask down and you feel his lips press against your neck. It’s a barely-there kiss, but it’s enough to make your heart race and the mask slip out of your hands. It hits the floor with a clank, but neither of you seem to care. 

“Never thought about my lips?” He whispers against your skin. His hold on your hair starts to loosen, and he gives you enough space to get away from him if you want to, but you don’t move. His mouth returns to your neck, and you bite your tongue to stop a whimper from escaping as he sucks on the sensitive skin by your pulse point. His tongue darts out and runs along the spot he was sucking on, and you bite down hard on your lip. 

“Never thought about my tongue?” He says against your skin. Your knees almost buckle at his husky voice, especially when he presses another kiss to your neck. 

“Never,” you say again, but you can’t help the way you lean into his touch. He chuckles against your skin. 

“So, so stubborn,” he pushes his mask back into place, leaning away from you. It’s all a tease, like he’s playing a game with you. Your head spins. “It’s a shame you don’t want to tell me anything. I’d do whatever you wanted, angel.” 

“I-Genji?” You say. Your head still spins. Of course you have had thoughts like that about him. You have had feelings for him for a while now. You just thought he would never feel the same way about you. 

“Hm?” He says, his eyes burning.

“I’ve thought about you before…like that,” you say, embarrassment heating your face as you admit to it. 

“Like what?” He tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. 

“You know what,” you say back, but he just shrugs. 

“I’m afraid I don’t. Fill me in, angel,” he says. You’re sure if you could see the lower half of his face, he would be smirking right now. He really wants to hear you say it before he does anything else. 

“I’ve thought about you fucking me before,” you practically scream out, your cheeks heating up even more. 

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he says. You start to question him, but he grips your hips and spins you around, walking you to his bed. You fall against the mattress, his soft blankets greeting you. You reach to him, your hands twisting in his shirt as you pull him closer. God, you want to kiss him so badly. You always have. His hand reaches to you, sneaking under the hoodie and against your skin. You let out a soft sigh against his touch. You want more. You need more. 

“I want to kiss you,” you say softly, the words slipping out. He pauses, his hand freezing at its spot on your ribs. You look up to him, finding his crimson gaze. 

“Close your eyes,” he says, but you shake your head. 

“I want to see you, if you’re comfortable with that,” you say. You know he isn’t the most confident in his current state, but he is still beautiful to you. He raises one of his brows, but nods. He slowly releases you and lowers himself to his knees in front of you. He’s letting you take the mask off for him. You reach out, pulling one of the loops off of his ear, before pulling it the rest of the way off of his face. You drop it, but he catches it before it can hit the ground.

You’ve seen his face before here and there in passing, but never directly like this. You cup his face with your hands, a soft smile on your features. He’s so beautiful, scars and all. He always has been to you. He watches you, holding the mask in his hand as if he’s waiting for you to tell him to put it back on.

“You’re so beautiful,” you lean forward and press your lips to one of the bigger scars on his face, then you move your mouth down and press your lips against his. 

You start off slowly, giving him plenty of time to back away if he wants, but he never does. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, and it’s like something in him snaps. He quickly takes control back, dominating the kiss. His kiss is rough and needy, like he’s suffocating and you’re his very air. 

He stands up just enough to push you back against the bed, then lowers himself on top of you, all without breaking the kiss. His hands find their way to your wrists, pinning them above you. The command is simple enough. Stay.

His hands lower, down your arms and chest, until he reaches the bottom of your - his - hoodie. Your skin burns as if his touch leaves flames in its wake. He pushes the hoodie up slowly, until your chest is bare to him. His hands wander, one metal and one flesh, running across your skin. He pulls away from the kiss, and you can see the way his lips are slightly swollen. He looks down at you, his eyes tracing your body. You can’t help the shy feeling you get as he looks at you, and you start to move to cover yourself, but remember the way he pushed your hands into the mattress. He wants to look at you like this, completely under his control.

You feel his soft hair tickle your skin as he leans down and presses soft kisses into your stomach, trailing up until he is at your breasts. You take a sharp intake as he runs his hand along one of your breasts. It’s his metal one, and the coolness is a stark contrast to the heat of your body. He rolls it in between his fingers, pinching slightly. It takes every ounce of self-control you have to not moan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. Once you’re thoroughly flustered and he’s satisfied, he moves lower, until his lips are just above the waistband on the sweatpants you have on. He pauses, kneading your thighs through the fabric. 

“Please,” you say softly, and you see a smile on his face when you look down at him.

“I like the way you say that,” he says, then slips his finger under the waistband. You lift your hips enough for him to pull the pants down, and he takes your underwear with it. You’re completely bare now, and he’s still fully clothed. You don’t have any time to feel insecure, though, as he pushes your legs apart and settles on his knees by the end of the bed. 

His lips quickly attach to your thigh, sucking softly just like he did your neck. You know it’s going to bruise, but part of you is happy about that. Having a mark from him on your skin, it’s so arousing. 

One of his hands finds its way to your core, and you gasp at the contact. His metal hand just barely touches your sex, just barely ghosting along your clit, but it’s enough to make you clap your hand over your mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. The touch is gone as quickly as it came, and you yelp as you feel a slight pinch in your leg. It’s replaced with another lick, before Genji looks up at you.

“Don’t you dare cover your mouth. I want to hear you, angel. I want to hear how I make you feel,” he says, his voice stern and eyes blazing. You whimper at the command, at the way he looks at you, at his hands kneading your thighs, at all of it. You drop your hand, obeying his order. A soft moan escapes your lips as he curls his finger, and he smiles. 

“Good. Keep making noises for me like that, yeah?” You nod, which makes him smile even wider. “Where is all that stubbornness now, hm? You’re so obedient.” 

You start to say something back, but when he presses a kiss against your clit, any response you had fizzles away and you let out a soft whimper. He continues licking at you, and you clench your legs around his head. You reach down and tangle one of your hands in his hair, whimpering at each lick. He brings his hand up, his metal one, and presses it against your entrance while continuing to suck on your clit. More. You need more. 

“Genji, please,” you whimper out, and it’s all he seems to need to hear. He presses one finger into you and your head falls back against the mattress. He pumps in and out in a painfully slow pace, but it’s still enough to have you writhing under him. You feel him pull his face away, just enough for him to look up at you. You feel him smile against you. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he says. His voice sounds like pure sin. 

“Don’t tease me, please,” you beg. 

“I don’t know, angel. I like teasing you,” he says, slowing down and pulling his face away. You whimper softly.

“Please,” you say the word again. 

“So fucking pretty,” he says, before adding another finger. He quickens the pace until you are a writhing, whimpering mess. You can’t even form any coherent thoughts. His thumb reaches to your clit, rubbing over it. 

“Genji,” you start to say something. He knows exactly what buttons of yours to push, and you are so close. 

“I know, angel. I know,” he says softly. Your legs start to shake as you feel your orgasm coming. Genji seems to notice the way your body is responding to him, and he picks up the pace. You throw your head back and moan. You squeeze your eyes shut and clutch onto the blankets under you as your orgasm rocks your entire body. It’s the best one you have ever had, and Genji seems to know that, because he gives you a minute to breathe before he does anything else. 

“I need you,” you say once you recover. 

“You have me,” Genji replies, rising from his knees and pulling his shirt over his head. His pale skin is covered in scars and the metal takes up about half of his torso and reaches down just slightly. His abs are still mostly flesh, as are his hips, which you can see over the waistband of his sweats. He doesn’t seem to mind your eyes on him, because he lets you watch him before he moves again. 

He reaches down to his waistband, sliding his sweatpants down his legs. He lets you watch as he does so, and your eyes trail below. You had been curious before if his cock was made of metal or flesh, and now you know it’s made out of flesh. His upper thighs are too, the metal starting around one of his legs. He cuts off your staring leaning over you and pressing your lips together once before pulling away again. 

“I have condoms in my nightstand,” he says, trailing off to give you the chance to answer.

“No,” you reply quickly. You want -  need - him, no barriers included. He raises an eyebrow, as if he expected another answer, but still wraps a hand around your ankle and pulls you down the bed. You yelp, caught off guard by the movement. You are much closer to him now. He seems to love the sight of you under him, because he has yet to look away from you. 

He tears his gaze away from you long enough to line up at your entrance. He looks back to your face, his crimson eyes watching you as he pushes inside you. You moan, but you can still hear the groan he releases. He sinks all the way into you, not moving at first as you both adjust to it. 

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be inside of you,” he whispers. 

“Genji,” you say his name, but it sounds more like you are pleading. He starts to move, quickly finding a rhythm in his thrusts. He leans down, pressing your lips together once again. His kiss is a little more sloppy now, but you still love the way his lips feel against yours. You wrap your hands around him, your nails digging slightly into his back. You have a feeling it’ll leave scratch marks on his skin side, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

He keeps going until you are another whimpering mess. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you to unravel for him. Your legs tremble around him and your nails dig into his shoulders. You moan his name as your orgasm rocks you, and his body seems to respond to both your orgasm and the sound of his name on your lips. 

His thrusts start to get less rhythmic, and you clench around him, which is enough to send him over the edge. His head falls onto your shoulder as his orgasm takes over his body. You hold onto him as he moans into your skin. It’s funny that he said you look pretty like this when you’re certain he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen. He eventually pulls his face away and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, before he pulls out and walks around the bed. He pulls the hoodie, which you just remembered you still had on, down over your body. You’re too fucked out to resist, but you don’t mind. His hoodie is comfortable anyway. 

You try to move, but your limbs don’t want to cooperate. It’s like they are made of jelly. He chuckles, pulling you up and bed before crawling in himself. He pulls you against him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He presses another soft kiss to your skin. 

“I should wear your clothes more often,” you say with a slight giggle. He nods.

“You definitely should. Let me take you out sometime, though. Have a proper date,” he says. Your heart jumps in your chest. After all the two of you just did, you shouldn’t feel shy, but you still are. He wants this to happen again? He wants to…date you? You find a smile creeping its way up your features at the thought.  The two of you fall asleep like that, him holding you against his body, his face buried in your neck, you with a massive smile on your face. You should definitely wear his clothes more often.

[thefirstknife]

You are so incredibly knowledgeable about this games lore and I feel like I am going crazy trying to find the answer to this. Maybe you know? Has there ever been an actual answer to why Osiris was so much more powerful than the rest and why he got the visions? Why was he the travelers favourite?

Honestly nobody really knows! Some Guardians just happen to be a lot more powerful and a lot of it definitely has to do with the personal choice to improve; as in, becoming a student and actively learning! Osiris chose to study with the Iron Lords. I'd also assume a Ghost has influence as well: Sagira too was very powerful.

Some of it might also have a lot to do with the amount of time he spent perfecting his skills. With the time dilation of the Infinite Forest, Osiris has lived an unfathomably long life and therefore had more time than most to get better.

Curiously though, he was already high above other Guardians even early on in his life. By early Dark Age, before studying with anyone, he was already using Dawnblade as we know it today. I'm personally of the opinion that he may have invented this in the first place, as the Dawnblade sword is fairly similar to his aesthetics and he used it so early.

Also way before the Infinite Forest, he was famous for the way he fought at Six Fronts; with his reflections. He was able to produce golden copies of himself that enabled him to watch every front in the battle. He was also able to teleport between them to quickly change his position and help on multiple fronts. This is an insane level of skill comparatively with other Guardians at the time. We still have no idea where and how he learned to do this. Or how it's done. There's also still unknown situation with this ability because at one point he specified a difference between "reflections" and "echoes," implying they're two different things:

[u.2:12] Reflections, Saint. I have no need for Echoes anymore. [u.1:13] What do you mean? What’s the difference? [u.2:13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core.

Bestie. What does this mean.

As for visions.... Nobody knows. He claims that his visions are just things he analysed using the Infinite Forest, but he made the prophecies before he went to the Forest. He was exiled for them! Some of them also deal with paracausality, in particular the one about the Traveler waking up at the end of the Red War, something that the Forest would not be able to predict. You'd think this is a writing mistake or something, but it's not. This discrepancy is directly referenced in the lore as weird.

Osiris treats this as "it just be like this" but I personally do think that he's the Traveler's specialest little guy. And Sagira was too. However, was he really and why? Ultimately we don't know.

[aquarius-cookie-jar]

Right. I'mma just dump these ref sheets I made here because I'll be making some drawings with these guys, and I am bad at staying consistent within the design lmao.

I was inspired by these amazing designs, go check them out.

X || X || X.

Ramble down here, where I try to explain the ""lore"" and my design choices:

So as mentioned above, the majority of the Dark Cacao kingdom is actually composed of kirins, mainly because Cacao was already a kirin in my older designs, and I wanted more of his citizens to match him. Maybe I'll draw the other Cacao NPCs mlp-ified and what I headcanon their species to be.

I ultimately decided to give Cacao a mane and replace his long hair with that. Ngl, I was always on the fence about Cacao and Choco's designs, but yeah, I think the mane works better than just getting rid of it. (Old design below).

Btw, I dunno if I wanna give Cacao an actual crown, or just keep the additional horn things the leader of the kirins kinda have.

Dark Choco hasn't changed much, just in a different art style. I do however wanna say that he shaved off his mane out of shame and guilt for coming across the cursed sword not long after his banishment. Maybe when he and Cacao reconcile, he'll start to grow it out again, or maybe he'll keep it that way as a reminder of the past.

I actually drew (more like edited a screenshot) Caramel Arrow before, and she was originally just a pegasus, but honestly, the concept of hybrids and what they entail really intrigued me. I thought it would be fun if she were a hybrid kirin/pegasus.

Also, her horn doesn't exactly function, mainly because there's this headcanon I once came across a post that says faux alicorns do exist in the mlp canon. If you wanna know my full headcanon for this, feel free to shoot an ask, but to keep it short, for faux alicorns, either their wings are under developed, or their horn can't control the frequencies of magic that well or at all. Such is the case for Caramel Arrow. Though she has fully developed wings, she can't control magic with her horn, and if she tries to, it may cause a headache. But besides that, she's all fine and dandy.

Crunchy Chip, hm, I'd say when he was a little filly, he was found in the woods, either by Cacao, or Choco, and his horn was already broken by the time they came across him. When asked, the little guy said he was protecting the cream wolf pups from a monster, but he can't remember what else happened before he fell unconscious. As he grew older, his broken horn didn't really bother him anymore. He's adapted well, and picked up a thing or two about survival from his cream wolf pack.

Also, sidenote, the kirins' scales are actually very hard to dent, meaning their backs are usually safe from attacks. Crunchy once encountered... something when he was out on patrol, and he was out of commission for a week (to his incredible dismay + annoyance) because of how rare serious injuries to the kirins' backs occur.

Ah, Affogato. Actually, I really do like him as a character, I just tend to focus my attention towards the Celestia and Luna coded father-son duo a bit more. Oops. But anyway, I decided to make him a hybrid just like Carrow too, mainly to add both contrast and similarities between them. They're not too different, but their ideals and beliefs clash and cause conflict with one another, I just thought it was fitting. Also decided to give him a more elegant and curved horn design as a nod to his unicorn heritage. Unicorns in the Cacao kingdom (and maybe the Golden Cheese kingdom) have a curved horn, mainly because the east asian coded unicorns in the mlp canon have curved horns too, and I thought they looked beautiful. Affo is someone so elegant and refined in a land that's chaotic and holds danger everywhere.

And that's my unhinged thoughts for now. I think I'll design Licorice and the others next time, but no promises.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

[lohotine]

nice story but can you make dark cacao vs affogato x male affogato's priest reader but in original universe like reader meet affogato again outside kingdom during mission

also add against and injured ( not too much )

AN: So, I kinda forgot a lot of the crk kingdom lore, but I think I got this! Been procrastinating on this one, sorry. In Affogato's wiki, it says that after his banishment, he practiced magic and stuff, so I mentioned that in the story. Um, and I tried to find out where he went after the banishment, but I couldn't find anything so I'm just assuming he's just in a small camp or set. Idk man. If things aren't right in this, please just lmk and I can make some edits or maybe just another story. I SWEAR IM TRYING. Also I'm calling reader the prince since him and Dark Cacao are dating

Dark Cacao vs Affogato x Male! Affogato Priest's Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Mild Injury, not proof read

-Unpleasant-

A radiant, pure, and glistening snow. It covered the ground, and trees... everything. A beautiful sight to behold, and luckily for you, you were experiencing the light snowfall firsthand!

You were recently sent out on a mission to survey a certain area in the woods. Nothing too difficult. In fact, it was very simple. Survey, collect data, and then return to the kingdom, and with the light snowfall, it should have been that hard.

Well, the snow used to be light. You don't know what caused such a sudden change, but it was now practically a blizzard. If you didn't retreat to somewhere more warm, you were going to freeze to death!

The only problem is... where would you go? Everything was all forest as far as the eyes could see.

"Feeling cold doll? Looks like you could use some help.." said a voice. You couldn't see who it was through all of the snow, but... you couldn't shake the feeling that you knew them.

"Oh, yeah! Is there anywhere we can go get out of the blizzard..?"

You could hear a subtle chuckle.

"Of course there is." A bright light would flash and you were now in a completely different area.

A nice, warm, and cozy cabin. A fireplace was lit in the corner, but.... you could also now see them.

"Affogato Cookie?" You'd shout in bewilderment as you took a step back.

"Yes. Did you miss me~?" He'd take a step closer to you and take hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Immediately, you swatted away his hand and sent him a glare.

"Do not touch me," you would hiss.

"Ahaha, you've still got that vicious personality, I see! But... this is no way to treat the person who has just saved your life, is it?"

He stared at you with those cold and uncaring eyes, still weilding that sly smile he always had all those months ago.

"Fine then. Thank you for saving me," you would say half-heartedly. You were grateful, just a bit on edge since it was Affogato who had saved you.

"So doll, how have you been? Is the king doing well?" He would ask. You only nod your head.

"How... unpleasant."

Affogato would swirl around his staff, and a pain would shoot through your body.

You knew exactly what this was. It was the poison he would use on his enemies... but he's improved.

"Ah, I've missed you're charming little expressions! This is why you've always been my favorite little doll~" He would pinch your cheeks while giving you that taunting smile.

"It hurts, doesn't it? I can make it stop," said Affogato Cookie.

"Then stop it," you would say with a glare.

"Of course! Under one condition though. You have to bring me to meet Dark Cacao Cookie. This is something you can do... yes?"

Oh. He was planning something for sure, but... all you could think about was the venom running through your blood.

"Fine! Just cut it out already."

He'd flick his staff once more, and the pain would lessen. Of course, poison cannot be cured so easily.

"The burning sensation will only last for a little while. Anyway, I'm glad we could come to an agreement! Now then, shall we head there now?"

That scowl never left your face, but you would nod your head all the same. It's not like you could take Affogato in a fight anyway.

《☆》

As Affogato and you walked into the gates of the kingdom, some guards would immediately ready their weapons.

"Prince, what is that traitor doing with you?!" They would ask in a panic.

You took a look at Affogato, who had never looked so calm and collected before.

"Stand down. I'm bringing him to the king," You'd order. Afgogato would chuckle before giving a viscious side eye towards the guards.

They looked shocked, but ultimately followed your lead since going against you was like going against the king himself.

"Yes sir." They said with a bow.

You started walking towards the castle, getting scared looks from the normal citizens.

The dizziness from before has also yet to fade.

"This kingdom looks the same as last time.. though, you are looking as darling as ever," Affogato would say with a grin.

"I don't want to hear it from you."

Affogato only hums, not bothering to push much farther.

It did not take long before you had reached the king's chambers.

Dark Cacao noticed Affogago instantly.

"What is he doing here?" Dark Cacao would ask with a booming voice. His blade was already at the ready.

"Ah ah ah, I wouldn't be so hasty to attack. You're little lover here might get hurt,"

Affogato would snicker before waving his staff, and that dark bubble would come back to consume you.

"You-" Dark Cacao would grit his teeth while glaring daggers into Affogato.

"Hand over the kingdom, and I'll stop the curse on him."

Dark Cacao's eyes darkened, and in an instant, he'd dash over to Affogato and strike him.

The blade would barely graze Affogato's shoulder, but it still drew blood. In a panic, Affogato would fall to the ground and start backing away.

"Ah, this isn't how the plan was supposed to turn out-"

Dark Cacao pointed the Swords edge at his neck.

"Stop the spell and leave. Next time you come here, I won't hesitate to take your life," said Dark Cacao.

He laughed nervously before swiftly undoing the curse. He flicked the staff once more again and teleported to who knows where.

Dark Cacao rushed to your side quickly.

"Are you alright?" He'd ask, holding you up.

"Yeah..." you began to cough a bit before looking at him with weary eyes.

"Here, let's get you some rest..."

《☆》 Fin

[obbystars]

Little Light

Synopsis: Not quite sent from above.

Notes: OC-Insert/Self-insert / Sebastian Solace x Oberon Sol / Oberon lore! / also not romantic despite the oc/self-insert ship lol / cursing / just silly ideas in here / p.AI.nter’s in here! / NOT CONNECTED TO SALVATION as this one is actually adding Oberon into the lore of Pressure / You can read Oberon’s document!

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(I said this wouldn’t be often but I’m getting ideas uhhhhhhh- anyway I have been thinking about trying my hand at p.AI.nter for a bit. He probably won’t be added to the list though.)

He’s not quite sure how long it’s been since he’s been locked in this containment cell. Thankfully, he does remember how he got here and clearly too. He managed to locate one of the facilities that’s owned by the sinners he’s been keeping an eye on. He went as far as to dive into the water and pierce through the Veil of the Let-Vand Zone. The water pressure didn’t even affect him, but he didn’t get very far before they spotted him. It only took minutes before all eyes were on him, but he didn’t fight back and let them take him.

Now all he felt were needles in his skin as he was held up by some sort of mechanism. He’s aware of what they’re doing and what they’re going to use it for, but he didn’t feel as angry as he probably should be. Despite all he had witnessed, he didn’t hate them for any of this. He’s not quite sure why.

He feels his wings chained down like that was going to do anything. One of the researchers got a little too close for comfort, and he admits that he may have been a little too harsh towards them. Now, because of that, they put a heavy metal box over his head. The voices outside were muffled, sometimes he heard machines moving, and sometimes he hears a door opening and closing.

Maybe curiosity did kill the cat. He vaguely remembers a discussion of a Guardian Angel being locked up in this place too for the same reason. He wonders where they could be held at. Sure his relationship with the other angels were rather complicated, but he can’t just turn away from something like that. There’ll be an opening soon enough. He just needs to wait, and frankly, he has all the time in the world.

He’ll just close his eyes for a little while. He wonders how many people have passed through his realm only to be greeted by no one. What form did he leave it in again?

However many hours, days, weeks, or months it’s been, he eventually hears a loud blaring sound followed up with an announcement he can’t quite hear. Something must be wrong, but that might mean this is his chance. He attempts to move his wings, but they could only twitch. He never realized just how tight the binds were, but he’s not surprised.

After a few hours, he hears machines moving until he’s suddenly dropped. The binds on his wings had fallen off as well. All that was left was the box on his head. He feels around the metal structure until he feels something that could resemble a lock. It doesn’t feel like a usual lock that needs a basic key for it, but if he could just…

A beep is heard and the box opens with a hiss. He pulls it off to be greeted by a dark room lit up with faint red lights. He drops the box and begins to stretch out his wings, his arms, and his legs.

…Now where was he?

The glass in front of him had shattered which gave him an opening to leave the containment room. He saw some scratch marks left by something big on the other side. He ultimately ignores it as his main concern at the moment is the location of the Guardian Angel. He wonders how they’ll react to him, but that’s saying if they even know him and what he does.

He shrugs it off, knowing full well he doesn’t expect nor does he look for forgiveness for it. Helping them would simply be his decision, but if he were to encounter anyone here who was an unfortunate victim under the sinners, then they would be his top priority. He hasn’t run into anyone yet, which made him feel relieved. Hopefully the people here managed to get out unscathed.

As he steps out into a hall, another loud blaring sound echoed through the facility.

“Attention, Z-222 has escaped containment. Do not let it leave the blacksite.”

He looks up, noticing a camera pointing at him. He raises a finger and swipes, knocking it off its hinges and shattering. That may be problematic. He’ll have to be careful from now on to avoid getting captured again. While he’s at it, perhaps he could also take a look around and see what others things are being kept here. Hopefully one of the rooms will have the Guardian Angel.

What he ended up getting caught up on, however, were some documents that had been left behind. Every single one he’s found in containment rooms, whether it was still intact or not, he thoroughly read the document. He’s not quite sure why, but he’s learned new things about this world with every document he’s picked up. He never knew such things existed until now.

As he opens more and more doors, the more he feels frustration beginning to boil up. There has been no documents mentioning the Guardian Angel, no clues on where they could be keeping them. Perhaps it was a good move for them to keep them separated, but damn it. Just how big was this place?

He comes across yet another room with two ways to go, but one of the large door’s wheels begin to turn. With no where else to go, he retreats into the side room just behind the other door and closes it before they could see him. He steps back from the door and turns around to see a computer with almost a cartoon-like face draw on it. It was locked behind a cage.

“O-Oh! Hello!” They chimed, “Uh… You don’t look like one of the workers here… H-How did you escape?”

A talking machine? And one that seems intelligent than the majority. Sentient, too.

He tilts his head, “I wish I knew, strange one. Perhaps someone had released me, but I never saw them as the people here had put a box over my head,”

“Someone released you? Oh, that must’ve been Sebastian then!”

“Hm? Sebastian?”

“Oh, right.. Box over your head,” the machine hummed, “He’s a pretty big guy. Uh, he’s blue, has an angler light bulb and a long tail. I think you’ll know it’s him when you actually see him,”

“You say as if I should go speak to him,”

Maybe his tone was a bit off which caused the machine to seem slightly nervous. He’s still not quite used to interacting with others despite his constant visits to the living realm and his interactions with their souls in his own little realm. Business talk can be vastly different from casual, after all.

“I-I mean-! You don’t HAVE to if you don’t want to!” They exclaimed, frantically trying to explain, “I just think maybe… Maybe if you wanna get out of here too, you could talk to him. He said he’d help me get out too, so…”

He thought about it for a moment. This machine seems oddly human despite it clearly being a simple program, but the tone, the face drawn on the screen, the reactions they express… It was like a person’s consciousness was in it. Strange.

“Tell me. What is your name?”

“My name? I mean, everyone really just called me “the painter.” Or just Painter. Even my… My creator,”

The sudden pause and shift in tone in their voice caught their attention. This brings him to ask, “What was your creator’s name?”

The machine looks up at him. They were silent until their expression changed into a rather sad one, “███████ ███████████████,”

That name was on a file in his realm. He remembers reading it as he stumbled upon his realm. If there was another face underneath the black mask, he was sure he’d be smiling. He had a pleasant talk with him when he passed by his realm. To this day, he still wonders why ███████ ultimately chose death over life.

“He was a good man, Painter,”

It was almost as if the machine’s expression lit up, “W-Wait, you knew him?! But, how-?”

“Please, I’d rather not fry your circuits,” he laughed, “But believe me when I tell you that he is at peace,”

“Well… O-Okay, I’ll believe you. I guess it’s nice to know he’s in a better place now,” as the machine says that, the lights suddenly flickered, “Oh, don’t go anywhere yet,”

He stares at them for a moment before the floor begins to shake. He had to balance himself as the trembles intensified and a muffled roar was heard just beyond the door.

The machine sighed, “Yeah, that’s been happening a lot lately. Been seeing it happen on the cameras before whatever it was knocked it out,”

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then,”

The machine’s face turned into a smile, “What’s your name by the way?”

It was his turn to stare at the machine in silence. Part of him figured they already knew, but he stands corrected.

“The sinners called me Z-222. But for you, Painter, it is Oberon Sol,”

“Z-222? Oberon Sol… Ohh! You’re the one they mentioned in the announcement a few hours ago!”

He laughs, nodding, “Yes, the very same. I should run along now and find this Sebastian you mentioned. Until we meet again, Painter, and maybe then I’ll try my hand at painting with you,”

“Really? You mean it? Okay! I’ll see you around!”

Oberon nods, opening the door slightly to check if there was no one. Once he confirmed the room was empty, he leaves and makes sure to close the door behind him. He makes a break for it through the door that had opened.

He’s been trying to keep track of time in his head. It must’ve been around five to six hours since he was awakened by the alarms. Maybe even more. He hasn’t seen any clocks around to properly keep track of time, but perhaps that was intentional when this place was made. You’d only know if you are told or you have a watch that still works.

He comes across a somewhat narrow tunnel. He can’t see anything outside the windows other than the occasional underwater bombs that look a bit too close even for tempered glass. It was way too quiet as well. He hasn’t seen anyone, let alone any of the researchers or even the guardsmen. Part of him begins to wonder if the people who were in charge of him are still alive.

He hoped so.

He soon finds himself looking through drawers, looking for anything that may prove useful later. Light sources, however, aren’t that useful to him. He can create his own ball of light after all.

The next room he stumbles into has its glass slightly broken. It was enough to have water start leaking through, but he quickly notices that one of the edges is slightly darker. It’s red.

This blood’s fresh…

He decides to follow it, eventually reaching the end of the tunnels and a room with five corpses. These people didn’t look like workers or even the guards. Those were prisoner outfits. Seeing them like this caused his chest to feel a bit heavy. Did they send them down here? How cruel.

There’s no blood coming from any of them. There didn’t seem to be any physical done to them, at least on the outside. He kneels down to one, checking to see if he can find out what happened and maybe even recognize this one’s face.

He can’t figure out what happened. He’ll need to look through their file in his realm, but that right now can’t be done.

He returns his attention to the blood trail as it implies the person had checked each one before they moved on to the next. Looting, perhaps. The trail then leads to the next room over. Before he exits, he looks back to the bodies and only hopes that their deaths were swift and painless.

As he stepped into the next room and closed the door, he heard a click and felt something press against the side of his head.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trailing me,” the voice growled.

He turns to the person as his small wing gently pushed the gun away. Half of his body was strangely human with an extra arm, clearly bleeding but looked to be bandaged up recently, an angler lure above his head, and a rather long fish tail as the other half of his body. He matched the description Painter had provided.

He fully turns to him, “Sebastian, I assume? Were you the one who freed me?”

“Maybe,” he doesn’t lower his gun, “I freed a lot of creatures held here, and a lot of them just mindlessly kill everything around them,”

“Fortunately for you, I don’t fall under that category. I refuse to take human life, let alone even try to harm them,”

Sebastian still doesn’t lower his gun until Oberon gently pushes it down with his hand, “A little painter told me that perhaps I should talk to you should I wish to leave this place. I assume you have a plan in mind,”

“So you met Painter, huh? He didn’t tell you what the deal was?”

“Perhaps he believed it to be best if I heard it from you,”

Sebastian sighed, putting the gun away, “Heard they’re trying to retrieve a crystal that’s deep in the facility. Apparently, it’s the main thing powering this entire place,”

“So you need to make sure the crystal isn’t picked up until you manage to find a way out,” Oberon hums, “Very well. I can assist in that,”

“You catch on quick, but you just said you wouldn’t even think of harming other people,”

“I did, but it is rather easy to throw someone off the guided path,” he snaps his finger, then points to the door behind him, “Remind me. What is behind that door?”

Sebastian turns to the door, then looks back at him, “Are you stupid or something? Didn’t you just come from that door?”

“What is behind that door?” Oberon repeats.

“The door leads to the trench tunnels,”

“It leads to a hotel lobby,”

Sebastian scoffs, “Now you’re just being ridiculous. How would a hotel lobby even-?”

As he opened the door that was supposed to lead to the trench tunnels, he was instead greeted by exactly what Oberon had said. Suddenly, he was in a hotel lobby. Oberon stands up and walks into the lobby, lighting up the fireplace. Slowly, Sebastian follows.

“What the f-?”

“I’ve made it so that it at least matches the style of this facility so it is not too out of place,” he cuts him off, “Although, perhaps if I had kept the original look, it’d make people really stop and question where exactly they are,”

“Is this a real place? Those people that were just here. Where did they-?”

He nods, “Not in this room as I pulled this one straight from where it came. Wherever this path leads, I suppose I can say I only hope they tread carefully if they wish to get through. They are not safe from the monsters you’ve released,”

Sebastian gives him a rather irritated look with that statement, one that Oberon ignores. He instead asks, “Did you know those people?”

“No. But I can only assume they’re expendable ranked prisoners. Their lives don’t matter to Urbanshade and are just used as cannon fodder. Seems to me they’re the ones being sent here to get that crystal now,”

Oberon says nothing to that. He should’ve expected such a thing existed.

“You’re leading them to their deaths, you know. That’s still killing them,” Sebastian then continues as he looks down to him, “No matter how you try putting it, them dying here will be your doing,”

Oberon is silent. Although, perhaps that’s not so different to what he normally does anyway. When people meet their end, they are brought to him and he guides them to their final destination wherever it might be. Guiding them to death.

“I still give them the chance to save themself. It’s an opportunity still wide enough for them to keep pushing forward. If I really wanted them dead, I wouldn’t give them places to hide and to retreat to,”

Even when guiding others to their death, he still gives them the option to go back and live just a little longer. This was the same thing, right? He gives them opportunities, chances, a choice. He gives them exactly what they need to keep pushing forward.

Oberon looks up to Sebastian, two stars appearing in his right eye, “You request that the retrieval of the crystal is to be delayed for as long as possible. Well, this is my method. I’m sure the one named Painter has their own methods as well, and whatever that may be, I will not interfere. A human’s will to live and desire for freedom can be extraordinary. I don’t doubt there will be one who will fight through it all and get what they so desire,”

He can see anger beginning to boil up in him as he says that, “What about what I want? Ten fucking years in this hell, and this is my chance for freedom! I had to be put through this shit before I could even think of fighting for my freedom!”

“And I don’t doubt you’ll get what you want soon enough,” Oberon lowered his head, “This is all I am capable of doing, and I apologize I cannot do more for you or Painter,”

“Aren’t you an angel? Wouldn’t the others like you come and get you out of here? Surely they can’t just leave one of their own stuck in a place like this,”

“Even if I could call them here, that wouldn’t be possible. There was a reason why the others didn’t assist the Guardian Angel of the Banlands when the sinners were there. There’s a reason why none of them tried to get them out of here, and there’s a reason why they want my light extinguished,”

Sebastian’s eyes widen a bit at that, “Extinguished? As in dead?”

He nods, “I don’t deny that I am guilty for something I did and that I still do. One rule we angels have is to never interfere with human life, much like their cycle of life. To you, death is the end, but not unless you find me. I can give you the chance to live once again, to start again where you left off. If you refuse the offer however, then I am to resume what I was originally created to do,”

Oberon pauses, then walks over to the next door. The stars in his eyes disappeared as he reached for the handle, “I always thought humans would give anything to cheat death as it was something a lot of you had feared, but… Some of you embrace it like it’s an old friend,”

On the other side was a dark hallway with windows on both sides, showing a red ocean with bones of an unknown creature. This still wasn’t the trench tunnels, and there’s no way they’re on the ocean floor to even see the bones. Either way, he doesn’t recognize those bones just outside the window. Sebastian follows him as they walk down the hall, the crimson color reflecting off of their forms.

“I suppose in a way, death is a beautiful thing,” Oberon continues, “Death is freedom to some. Maybe that’s how some of those prisoners being sent down here feel. They don’t care about the rewards. They just know this is an execution, one they fully embrace,”

He suddenly stops to look at the bones of the creature, “What do you think of it? Is death in this place truly an escape? Is embracing death in a place you would call Hell an escape?”

Sebastian stares at the bones, his eyes narrowing, “It’s the coward’s way out,”

Oberon remains silent. He will never understand humans and their way of thinking, but he loves them all the same.

Alright alright alright I swear this is the last Oberon lore post you’ll see after a while unless it has to do with art.

I’M SORRY, AFTER ACTUALLY THINKING ABOUT HIS LORE, I GOT REALLY INTO IT 😭😭

I’LL GO BACK TO WORKING ON REQUESTS

[rainymossgoddess]

Hey how was everyone's day, good? Good. I would never come up with a basic story/vibe for a nonexistent zelda game on a whim instead of studying. Nope. Definitely not like I'm writing this post instead of studying or anything.

Hey unrelated what if there was a zelda game where Link and Dark Link had a sort of Link & Midna style relationship and the major themes of the game were about, like, the corrupt side of those in positions of power and how darkness does not equal evil bad bad.

Continued below the cut cause I've written myself into a corner with this pitch-

Dark Link

Dark Link is Midna adjacent, serving a supportive role as a sort of secondary protagonist. Kinda similar to Spirit Tracks zelda in a way, though they could interact with the world a bit more.

This could manifest in a couple of ways, though the first ones that come to mind are possession of armors and stuff (again, spirit tracks as inspo) and a shadow form that's similar to, like, the painting bracelet from Link Between Worlds.

Part of what's happening in my head is that i just want to see Link playfully arguing with his shadow (Dink).

There are also thoughts in my brain about a plot twist so hard it gives the audience whiplash but we'll see (will elaborate later).

Becomes more than just Link's bitter goth clone, developing a personality and both distancing themselves from but becoming closer to link.

In a fruity way?

Link

Off the top of my head I want this Link to feel similar to Legend (or at least similar to legend's vibe in all too many of the fics I have been reading).

Definitely a magic user. Fire and Ice magic could have fun game mechanics built around them (light and reflections respectively).

Classic green outfit? Maybe with a more naturey vibe.

Darker color scheme, more suited to sneaking

Both Link and Dink have matching flower crowns as part of their outfits (Link has purple and Dink has Yellow).

Zelda(?)

For some reason I REALLY want a prince in one way or another (transfem or transmasc preferably. Y'know.)

Very pressured by abusive+corrupt nobles/dad

Unable to access triforce but hides it and learned magic in secret to keep appearances.

Still Not Enough, keeps pushing themselves over the healthy limit. Perhaps ends up hurting themself in one way or another.

Maybe the Queen could still be alive but just sleeping beauty'd by the King cause he wanted power.

King as a boss battle??

Major plot twist mentioned in Dink's section is maybe they don't have the triforce of Wisdom at all.

Option A is they actually have the triforce of Power.

Option B is they don't even have a triforce, making every bit of their magical prowess even more impressive.

Ganondorf

Definitely not the antagonist

I feel like we're all pretty tired of the whole 'ooh ominous big villain here to kill everyone surely it's a mystery- NOPE ITS GANONDORF AGAIN BABY HAHA.'

I think he should be included somehow though, perhaps even as a triforce holder.

Antihero, possibly? I think I like the vibe of him being a goofy old hermit on the edge of the gerudo highlands with a cute little orchard more though. Of course, these aren't exclusive of each other, but still.

He has no want of power or lust to rule Hyrule, at most he wants to run a little farm.

Possible plot point is him having cut off his triforce bearing hand because he has no want of power and the triforce being a part of him would only bring unwanted attention upon him.

Avid knitting circle member.

Big Nasty

A major servant of Hylia, possibly?

Alternatively, three servants of the golden trio.

They've blocked off Hylia/The Golden Trio's greater connection(s) to the people and land of hyrule, seeking to replace her/them as a god.

Final final battle with puppeted sleeping Hylia?

I sense power creep

General stuff i guess

Could take place during a time of peace

Biggest demise sided villains would also be sided with the Big Nasty, but for their own reasons

Puzzles,,

Lore/sequel stuff??

Sequel adventure could be to re-seal/kill the Ganon/Demise/Whatever and keep the peace

Maybe something gets twisted with that

Killing TWO gods? (Hylia and Demise to halt the cycle, at least for a long while)

Perhaps halting the cycle allows the hero's spirit to move on from this endless war (echoing in an era of fresher villains)

Of course this is all just me rambling on- I would love to hear some feedback on these ideas!

I also desperately want to draw art for these characters my head has rotating violently but I always get too in my own head about drawing so-

[dark-type-appreciator]

Intro post! :3

Hello! Like my description says, I'm Liam! I'm 16 and I found this website a while back and decided to finally make an account!!! I really like dark type pokemon (bet you could guess that XD), and I'm always open to talk about them! I also really like other catmons ^w^ curse of being a warrior skitties fan I guess...

I also like drawing, warrior skitties, and roleplaying! I have other interests but those are my main ones! I play games sometimes, but I'm not very good at them x_x

I'm not really a pokemon trainer… I only have one pokemon haha! His name is Goldie, and he's a purrloin! He's kind of a cranky old man but he loves me!

umm, what else? I get confused sometimes, please be patient, I'm autistic (and other things). Same goes the other way around!! If u need me to rephrase something, please tell me! Also i misspell things a lot, auto correct is my best friend. Hopefully its not too bad!

Oh! Also I am a furry! :3 I almost forgot to mention that asjhdjahs

Here's my pokesona!

not the best reference, it's kinda old... Maybe I'll redo it someday!

Also- if we're friends, pls tag any bug types!… I have a really bad phobia of them, and I don't wanna see them at all. Thank you!!!

also- look look look!!

They're friends.. :3

[OOC under the cut]

Actias (@act11as) back at it again... Oh boy! OOC posts will be tagged as #ooc and #moth's yapping to avoid confusion.

All triggering content will be tagged as "#[word] tw" for better blacklisting. Please contact me if I miss something or you need something tagged.

‼ This blog will have heavy themes! including mental illness, gaslighting, (witnessed) domestic abuse, emotional abuse, child neglect, Past physical abuse, and generally dysfunctional and unhealthy family and friend dynamics ‼ [This blog is heavily connected to @sound-type-advocate, highly recommend following if you want the full story.]

Boundaries

Self-insert Fallers, do not interact. There is a certain level of unreality I can handle and self-insert fallers cross that threshold. I will block over this, be warned. Everyone else is fine to interact!

NSFW COMMENTS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Mod is a minor, even if muse is an adult!

IN CHARACTER anon hate is okay! I have the right to not answer anything, and if you're ever unsure, feel free to ask.

Extra:

Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are off currently! You may be able to convince him to turn it on!

Mystery Gifts are closed! Though if this and Pelipper mail were to open, this one is preferred!

Musharna mail, and Musharna malice are always on! Magic anons are off.

Organizational Tags!

Liam Chatters - General post tag! As long as he's saying something in the text portion, it'll be tagged. Reblog! ^w^ - Reblog tag. Pretty self explanatory Future Sight (queue) - Queued posts tag! Again pretty self explanatory. Liam used Doodle! - Art tag! Liam's art will be tagged as this, for those who want to see it. Foresight - Out of character tag. It marks posts that will potentially be important in the future. This can range from his opinions on things to heavy lore posts! Good tag to read through if you think you're missing something!

Friend Tags! (Tags for friends!)

#Tari mention - tag for Tari from @/pokemoncryptids #faith is friending - tag for Faith from @/faithispokemoning #rare sprig appearance - Tag for Sprig... Who does not have a public account! they're Liam's friend however.

ONGOING ARCS:

Nothing named!

PAST ARCS/EVENTS:

#Lucy Strikes! - One of Liam's friends stole his phone while they were supposed to be visiting. General warnings for bullying. #Mask Off Arc - Shorter arc involving the aftermath of the previous event. Liam started to open up a little more, and hey! Mask reveal! (subject to be renamed, could be used for something more important currently)

Blocklist:

These are blogs Liam has blocked in-character! usually for lore reasons! these are not blogs that have personally been blocked, feel free to interact on anon if you're on this list!

@/tinkatinktrain

@/sound-type-advocate

[gooselycharm]

hi there! i'd just like to say that your kris and noelle "something else" comic has been driving me insane /pos and i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on those two!! their relationship is one of my favorite things in deltarune and your comic just got everything about them so right 🙏

thank you for reading "something else"! oh man, [more of] my thoughts on kris+noelle.... i sure got some of those.

this was one of the first tweets i made after finishing chapter 2 nearly... freaking 2 years ago. and basically i've just been saying that over and over again in different ways because i'm still not tired of the concept yet and probably wont ever be LOL. i'm obsessed with how badly the narrative wants to force them into an easily categorizable dynamic, especially the romantic one in snowgrave. the literal THORN RING, the more possessive dialogue options, spamton calling noelle a side chick LOL... it all creates this unnerving visual novel bad end atmosphere that feels manufactured by someone who's only ever learned about romance through secondhand sources. they're two queer teens trying to navigate their changing relationship with the only role models they know being their parents' own failed heterosexual marriages. they're so divorced² (divorced children of divorce).

i also like that for being so tragically doomed coded they can be funny! both in a dark humor way and also like, genuinely funny, like the stories of them as kids with kris covering themselves in ketchup and hiding under noelle's bed lmao. i mean there's even something funny about the romantic trappings of the snowgrave route, like trying to put wedding cake embellishments on a crime scene... you know, funny like kids trying on their parents clothes but they're too big and for some reason they're also crying and covered in blood? um.

i'm also SOOOO interested to see how snowgrave will continue in chapter 3! i really liked the hopeful note chapter 2 ended on (well. i took it as hopeful anyway). there's that bit where noelle is talking to herself and she says something like "recently kris has been acting so strange and no one else has noticed... i have to figure out why" and then kris jumpscares her LOL but i think i took that one line and really ran with it. noelle really is the one who knows kris best and despite how scared she is, she's still determined to help them... i like the little subversion of victim/hero going on, the implication that kris might be the one who needs rescuing.

the additional story/lore that came with the spamton sweepstakes made me CRAAAZYYYYY like my GOD... it's cute that noelle likes glitches/creepypasta when kris is kinda a walking creepypasta <3 also, god, noelle falling asleep listening to kris playing piano in the other room... there's so much like. wistfulness and nostalgia and this like... distant/detached intimacy packed into how noelle narrates that scene. it's kind of funny how much there is to dig into when like on a surface level they're just fairly regular childhood friends who grew apart LMAO they're extremely deep to me okay...

on another note i guess i do ship them? i like their dynamic whether it's platonic or romantic (the best is a weird mix of both 👍). it just can't be boring LOL like... this is one ship where trying to apply cookie cutter tropes to them really falls flat and the game is ahead of you on that anyway. in terms of romantically shipping them, i honestly don't think they're doomed to repeat patterns forever... i think they could actually be good for each other! but that's not really the aspect of their relationship that interests me akldjf;alk;sdg maybe i will make 60 page comic of kriselle going to couples counseling some other time

ANYWAY i'm going to cut myself off here, because i really could go on forever lol. i'll give you some links for further reading though

hellspawnmotel's deltarune art

lula pillowbug99's deltarune art

this art by raspbearis which features prominently in my internal kriselle bible

my own unfinished kriselle playlist

my own essay on gender & allegory in deltarune if for some reason u are not tired of hearing me talk yet

okay bye now & thanks again for reading my comic!!!!!!!!!!!!!