#and I know merchandising rights would be a pain

[manda-kat]

I think, legally, if a studio/game developer/publisher/whatever has the rights to an IP, but they go for five or more years without releasing any projects related to that IP, the rights to the property should return to the person who originally pitched or wrote it and they can repitch it somewhere else or continue it on their own as they see fit, or just keep the rights and know that nobody can butcher the property.

Obviously, companies should keep the rights to the projects they create while the IP is theirs and any characters or concepts that they introduced that was not the original creators idea should belong to their individual versions, but I think if more creators had the option to take their beloved brain child and walk if a studio decides they actually don't want to do anything with the IP, they should be more than capable of doing so.

This should also apply to cancelations without any plans for new projects AND media being removed from streaming and viewing should automatically return to the original creator.

[reignpage]

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Synopsis: in which the jjk men are your roommates in a modern au and you've just watched a horror movie Warnings: cursing, some gory descriptions of movie scenes, mostly fluff and crack, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna Word Count: 3.2k

Gojo:

He yelps, hands flying. 

“That’s the third jumpscare in five minutes, why do they hate us?”

You laugh, popping some popcorn in your mouth. He’s got the bowl in his lap as you two share a blanket, thighs pressed together, and his arm’s strung at the back of the sofa. Admittedly, you’re sharing a moment that is way too intimate for roommates, but neither of you point it out.

The movie is terrifying. Somehow, everything looks real, and the plot is so captivating you genuinely feel like you’re a character being chased by the slasher. It sets an odd feeling of dread in your stomach. 

Throwing a popcorn in the air, he catches it perfectly and grins at you, expecting praise. You roll your eyes and bury yourself deeper under the blanket. Not even he can distract you from the allure of the horror movie. 

Eventually, the movie ends, and your hands are still shaking. Beside you, Satoru yawns with a stretch, shirt riding up to reveal his hard abs. You poke it. He writhes. 

“Hey! Keep your hands off the merchandise.”

Giggling, you mess up his hair and bid him goodnight. He grumbles complaints but otherwise returns to his room too, a soft smile of his lips as he waves dramatically.

There are lots of shadows in your room. You never noticed it before; it’s all you can see now. Your eyes dart from surface to surface, frantically as if monsters would genuinely pop out. It’s ridiculous. You’re a grown adult. 

Grabbing your phone, you text your roommate. You ask if you can sleep in his room tonight. Through the wall you hear a muffled yell. Something that sounds oddly like, ‘hell yeah’.

Half expecting a flirty message, you’re pleasantly surprised he doesn’t tease you too much and says yes. 

You don’t waste any time. 

Rushing to his room, you don’t need to knock because somehow, he senses you and opens the door, a goofy smile on his lips. 

“I’ve been waiting for my moment to shine,” he admits. “I knew you’d crawl into my bed sooner than later.”

You shove at his chest and roll your eyes at his exaggerated moan of pain. Climbing into bed, you make yourself comfortable, plumping up a pillow. He follows right behind you, jumping on the bed and laughing as you both bounce. 

“Don’t be such a child, Satoru.”

He makes a noise of indignation. “Says the scaredy cat next to me?”

The light’s off and your eyes have adjusted. And despite his presence, you don’t feel safe enough to sleep. There are still shadows and faint noises. You’re painfully aware of every creak, every gust of wind, and every thrum of car engines in the street. 

“Still can’t sleep, roomie?” Satoru whispers. He’s a lot closer than you realise but his warm breath does ease your anxiety a little. 

Shuffling, you turn to face him. “Don’t mention this in the morning.”

Without waiting for a response, you throw an arm and a leg over him, resting your head on his chest. He lays deathly still, tense for a second but then relaxes and wraps an arm around you too. 

“I totally will, y’know that, right?”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

He lands a wet kiss atop your head and rubs your back, cooing like a mother. With a feminine voice, his final words are, “Sleep well, my little angelkins.”

How your eyes haven’t gotten permanently stuck in a rolling position you don’t know. 

Geto:

Nodding his head, he studies the screen with mild interest. He isn’t really a movie person, but he never passes up these nights with you. Having seen stellar reviews of this new horror movie, you were excited to watch it with Suguru, hoping to see him be startled for once. 

He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even wince. 

Unlike you. 

Not much of a talker, he doesn’t reply to your frantic complaints about how the characters need to stop saying ‘let’s split up’. Legs crossed, he drums a finger against his lips, watching you more than the screen, though you don’t notice. 

He can see the way you’re trembling, so very sensitive to every noise and movement. He’s finding this so terribly amusing, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

Once the movie ends, you part ways — Suguru with his hands in his hoodie pockets, humming, and you with your eyes flitting to the doors and windows. 

“Goodnight, pretty,” he says.

You mutter it back. 

As soon as you lock your door, you rush to the window of your room, pulling at it to ensure it’s securely locked. Satisfied, you sit on your bed eyeing the damn thing. What if you loosened it?

You check again, pulling harder and longer this time. It rattles loudly. Your phone pings.

Suguru’s asking what all the noise is. You explain and his replies only set you even more on edge. He reminds you to check under your bed and when you glance down at it you see only darkness in the gap. A gap big enough for a man to hide under.

Just as soon as he gives you the go-ahead, you run to his room, pushing the door open and jumping into bed, knees knocking into his back. He groans and you pat him apologetically. 

“You’re really scared, aren’t you,” he marvels. He’s still wearing his hoodie; it is cold tonight. You clutch it and hold him tightly. His comforting smell eases your nerves, and you let go of the tension in your shoulders just a little. “Don’t worry, pretty. I got you.”

“Thanks, Suguru,” you mumble, eyes flickering shut. 

He sighs, arm winding around his front to hold your hand which rests on his side. “What are friends for?”

Fast asleep already, you don’t hear the bitter tone of his words.

Choso:

Your friend had recommended a movie they said kept them up all night. Thinking you wouldn’t be bothered, you set it up for movie night with Choso. Even if it doesn’t scare you, it will scare him. And that’s even better. 

Very quickly, not even five minutes in, he’s clinging to your side. One hand holds yours, squeezing at every jumpscare whilst the other rests on your bare knee. You’re only wearing shorts, and you knew your roommate would jump at the chance to cop a feel. Well, you don’t mind. 

His fingers press into the fat of your thigh, but he’s not even looking at you. Choso’s genuinely captivated by the movie, gasping and grimacing like he’s a director’s dream audience. Those fingers dance and drum and rise on your leg. You smack it every time he goes too high. 

He pouts when you do.

When the movie finishes, you ruffle his hair. It’s still wet from his shower, and he hadn’t tied it up into his typical pigtails. Looking up at you, he gives you puppy eyes and before he can ask, you give him a playful ‘sweet dreams, Choso’ before you disappear into your room. 

Just as the door clicks shut, he texts you. 

He’s practically begging for you to grant him mercy, to come and sleep in his bed. Sighing, you agree, knowing full well his hands will wander. But fine. It’s not like you hate it. 

Walking into his room, you sigh when you see he’s got a lamp on and his duvet is halfway down his body, purposefully, you’re willing to bet, if the fact that he had stripped himself of his shirt is anything to go by. 

“Choso, tell me you didn’t take off your shirt because I was coming.” You sigh, exasperated. 

Lying there with an innocent smile, he blinks up at you. “I wouldn’t.”

Oh, but he totally would, the mischievous little thing. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you climb into bed with him regardless, falling down with a huff. Just as your head hits the pillows, he’s scooping you up and tangling his limbs with yours. Ignoring your groans, he lays his head on your chest, nuzzling there with a contented hum. 

“Goodnight!”

“Don’t ‘goodnight’ me, Choso. Get off,” you demand. 

His reply?

To hold you tighter. 

You can’t fight back so you let him have this victory. Just this once. Even when a hand creeps under your shirt to rest on your ribcage, you don’t say a word. He’s such a pain in the ass but he’s an adorable pain in the ass. 

However, when his hand dares creep up a little higher, you smack your head against his. “Don’t you dare or else I’m going back to my own room.”

He mumbles into your chest, “Meanie.”

Days later, when you bring up his sensitivity to horror movies to his little brother, Yuji, the boy can only look confused, head tilting at you. 

“But my big bro loves horror movies?”

The bastard got you.

Toji:

You scream for the fifth time.

“Oh my god! Why am I seeing his literal intestines?”

Your roommate snorts. “You’ll scream at the drop of a fucking pin.”

He had chosen the vilest snuff film to ever exist on the planet. That’s probably not even an exaggeration. Every scene is full of blood and guts and dead bodies. You feel like you’re going to throw up. He, on the other hand, is laughing like he’s watching a comedy instead. 

“Stop glaring at me. Y’r missing the best bits,” he says. The ‘best bits’ in question is someone getting their head chopped off. Fed up, you excuse yourself. “Oh, come on. ’s not that bad.”

You flip him off. 

Hours later, you know he’s in bed. You are too. But you aren’t anywhere near sleepy. In fact, you’re wide awake. 

You can’t get the sight of pools of blood out of your mind. It’s all you can see. That and brain chunks. You’re definitely going to throw up. Shoving the covers off you text him a complaint. His replies only piss you off further. 

Tomorrow you’re going to hide his car keys. 

Somewhere in the apartment, you hear a clatter. You’re sure of it. There was absolutely a noise. Jolting upright, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Without waiting for another sign, you make a run for it, bolting to his room. 

After knocking a couple times, he opens the door with a deadpan look. It screams, ‘are you fucking serious?’

And you are. You absolutely are serious. Seeing that pathetic look on your face, he rolls his eyes with a groan lets you in. 

“How old are ya again?”

Shaking, you swear, “I heard a noise. Like an actual noise.”

“So? If there was a killer, ya totally should do the right thing and sacrifice yourself. For the betterment of me, of course.”

You shove at him. “You’re such a prick.”

He rakes a hand through his hair and it’s only now that you realise, he’s just in boxers. His shoulders are broad, abs and arms flexing with the movement and you feel your mouth water at the trail of hair that disappears into his underwear. You’re practically drooling at the sight of his thick thighs, bare and so muscular. 

“Stop eye-fucking me and get to sleep, brat.”

You stop staring. 

Lying side by side, you look up at the ceiling, hands drumming on your stomach. It’s hard to ignore the warmth he’s emanating and the way his masculine scent is filling your nose. 

“Be honest, Fushiguro.” At the sound of your voice, he groans. “You chose that movie to fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“Go to fucking sleep or I’m kicking your dumb ass out.”

You prod his bicep, mostly for your own benefit. “Just tell me the truth. I won’t get mad.”

Swatting your hand away, he growls, “No, I fucking didn’t. Happy now?”

You nod and let out a breath, sinking into the mattress and feeling ready to accept sleep. That is, until he opens his big fat mouth and you’re getting riled up all over again. 

“I totally did, actually.”

“I knew it!”

Nanami:

This was your own fault. 

You chose a stupid horror movie just because it was trending. Now, you’re practically on Kento’s lap, burying your face into his neck at even the mildest of scenes. He doesn’t complain. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer another film? It’s not too late to change,” he kindly offers.

Stubbornly, you shake your head. “No. Let’s finish this.”

Pushing his glasses up, he doesn’t fight you. He himself isn’t a fan of horror movies but he isn’t particularly vulnerable to jumpscares. Kento has always been a rational man, after all. He knows the blood is fake, he can tell when a shot is setting up for a plot twist, and he can already tell who will survive in the end. 

Which is why he makes the perfect movie buddy — he grounds you. His firm hand rubs soothingly on your back, muttering against your head when the scary scenes are done, and he even warns you when he senses another one building. 

He’s always so sweet and so supportive, you never dispute it when your friends joke that he’s practically your boyfriend. And sure, you would absolutely love it if he was, but maybe every kind act is just a reflection of who he is, rather than how he feels about you.

The movie ends and you’re left reeling.

“I can’t believe they killed everyone but just that one girl. She did nothing the entire time!”

Kento chuckles, folding up the blanket. “I believe she is, what they call, ‘the final girl’. So, I suppose she’s already served her purpose by existing.”

You offer to tidy up too, but he shoos you away, reminding you that it’s already late and you have lots to do the next day. With an appreciative smile, you give him a goodnight hug like you do every night and return to your room. 

You don’t stay there for long. 

Unable to stop ruminating on it, you text Kento to ask if the front door’s locked. He says it is. It’s his routine to double check and he does it without failure every night, but you just can’t help but worry it isn’t. Eventually, the fear that it might not be locked, or that it somehow became unlocked, won over you. 

There’s no way you’re going to check yourself. You ask Kento if you can sleep in his room and of course he doesn’t say no. 

His bedside lamp is on, and he’s sat up, reading a book. He gives you a warm smile and pats the bed. You’re a little disappointed he’s fully clothed but you keep that to yourself. 

Once beside him, you lie there, staring up at his face. He isn’t the least bit bothered by the terrifying movie; none would be able to tell he even watched one. Nanami Kento is a rock. Solid and unyielding. 

“Just let me finish this chapter and I’ll turn the light off,” he says. 

You shake your head. “It’s okay. Read as long as you want. Actually, do you mind reading to me? Your voice is so soothing, and I don’t think I can fall asleep otherwise.”

Gentle eyes fall on you and when something soft passes through his eyes, he smiles faintly, the golden flow of his lamp bringing out his youth. And he begins reading out every word on his page, low voice filling the room. 

You can’t recall if you fell asleep three pages later or two whole chapters later, but you do, movie long forgotten. 

Sukuna:

You’re onto him. 

The devil incarnate picked a stupidly gory horror movie. It’s so ridiculous, in fact, you almost mistook it for satire. But it isn’t. He’s trying to make you crack, to watch you squirm because apparently, he has nothing better to do. 

When the seventh jumpscare comes and you don’t flinch, he scoffs. “You watched this shit before?”

“No,” you say.

With thirty minutes still left, he turns the TV off and grumbles as he disappears into his room, the door slamming particularly loud. You sigh. He is so predictable. Truth is, the movie did scare you a little, but not enough to lose this little game you’ve been playing with him. 

At a leisurely pace, you go over your routine, humming a tune as he texts you. The man is always so angry. He really should get laid or something. Better yet, he should actually murder someone like his nature dictates. Maybe then he’ll get off your ass. 

When he threateningly texts that he’s coming to you, you can only pinch your nose bridge and open the door before he kicks it down. What you see on the other side only gives you a bigger headache — he’s only in boxers, muscular body on show, his tattoos highlighting every ridge. 

He pushes past you and gets himself settled into bed, shoving your plushie off the bed and it rolls by your feet. You pick it up and dust it off, placing it your desk chair instead, knowing he’ll just kick it off, or worse, if you place it back on the bed. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” he orders, one arm bent behind his head and the other lying straight across your pillow. 

You roll your eyes and climb in despite his stupid attitude. Trying to move his arm, you fail spectacularly; it doesn’t even move an inch. The thing is heavy as hell and his smug ass face knows it. He grunts though when your head falls onto it with more force than necessary. 

You turn your bedside lamp off. 

Encased in darkness, you can only do your best to ignore his presence, with very little success. He’s more on your side than his and he radiates heat like a furnace. The feeling of his hard body against your sides is doing nothing but distract you from seeking sleep. 

You really shouldn’t let him get away with his shit. 

“You call me the pyscho but you didn’t even blink at all that fucking bullshit,” he snarls, breaking the dull silence.

“It really wasn’t that scary, Sukuna.”

That arm you’re resting on curls, wrapping around your head until you’re being held against his chest in a headlock. He whispers against your ear, squeezing threateningly and growling, “You aren’t scared of me?”

You know you should be. He’s proven time and time again there are no lengths he wouldn’t go to prove a point. You’ve seen firsthand the destruction he can cause, the pain he can inflict, and his devil may care attitude. 

He’s a loose cannon. 

“Just go to sleep, weirdo,” you reply, smacking his forearm. 

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. You feel it rumble under your head, vibrations reaching your own chest and your eyes flutter shut. 

“You’re lucky you’re fucking adorable, you little brat.”

His threats always fall on deaf ears with you; they no longer hold any weight. Not since you’ve seen all the ways he’d go above and beyond for you. In his own freaky way, he’s shown he cares many times. You can’t possibly be scared of someone who feels as soft as he does.

You fall asleep in his arms, a ghost of something soft grazing your cheek.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

[doromoni]

A Rivalry Misunderstood | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x McLaren Driver! Reader

Genre : Angst , Romance

Warning : Toxic! Lando , Possessive! Lando

Summary : You’re the new Golden Rookie of McLaren F1 , a driver loved and accepted by everyone. But Lando may beg to differ.

masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Quickly passing by every motorhome as you joyfully skip through the paddock , signing merchandise and taking photos with the fans. The Sprint race had just finished — with you getting your first Formula 1 win as a rookie! Well technically, but you were happy either way. Congratulations and pats on the back were constant from your team and even competitors as you made your way towards your own motorhome.

Life as a rookie in formula 1 had its ups and downs , majority of the people around have been supportive. However, oddly enough, you expected the least person to be against you would be your teammate … yet, here we are. You never understood Lando’s dislike towards you , it was so out of the blue and you could not think of anything you could have done to earn his mistrust.

You were always on your best behavior, and you always made an effort to be friendly towards your senior driver. You always made sure that you were cautious and that you didn’t step on any toes.

Busy with your thoughts, you reached your motorhome. So here you are, walking towards your designated driver room. Nearing the hallway of your destination.Head filled with thoughts but at the same time empty, not noticing the built figure as you turned the corner. Both bodies weren't aware of the other person, bumping into each other with a thump.

The person was heavy for sure, a built composed of lean and hard muscles. How would you know? He was currently lying on top of you. You were pressed by his chest, while he was on top of you. Yup … definitely muscled, you can feel it through your fireproofs

" Urghh, watch where you're going " you groaned in pain. Suddenly , you were face to face with the your teammate, Lando Norris.

His face was painted with an expression you cannot understand ... His toned arms were beside your head, trapping you between him and the floor . You stared at your co-driver, his hazelnut brown wavy hair, dark emerald eyes as green as the amazon forest, and a jawline that could rival a sword.

Unconsciously, your hand trailed the bridge of his nose to the soft and plump lower lip that the man possessed.

" What the hell are you doing" Stopping yourself from examining him more, and finally connected the dots. You were pressed on the floor by Lando Norris! The person who hated you and wanted you gone.

Almost automatically, you put your hands on his chest — an effort to push him . But alas, your efforts were null, when he suddenly pinned your hands above your head.

Struggling from his iron grip, and sighing into submission and decided to use your brain rather than brawn. Since trying to force yourself out would do you no good, knowing that he was much stronger than you were.

Having enough of his attitude and his harsh treatment , you realized being nice was never going to work— and that you don’t actually care about what he thought of you. And for the first time with him , you set your foot down and served him the attitude that he served you all the time that you were his teammate.

"I think your male bravado is content now, right? having a girl defenseless and restricted. I suggest letting me go now " you felt his hold on your wrist grow even tighter.

Steeling your front , you stared back into his glare, challenging his piercing glare.

"Why? Do you have somewhere to go? Have more people to suck up to? Don't you think that's low ,even for you?" A dangerous glint in his eyes. And an animosity in his voice that you couldn't decipher. He drew his face closer to yours, you felt his breath on your cheeks , an inch more his lips would touch yours.

Suddenly finding the situation amusing, a chuckle slipped your lips. Your chuckling then turned into laughter, and this stunned Lando, as he stared at your face, still sharing the same breath.

He can’t beat you on track, so he now uses other tactics to up you. Funny.

"Funny, such accusation are done by you , don't you think? Oh that's right its because the team actually prefers me now over you. Now that I’ve actually given them a win... hmm or maybe we all should be like you and bow and cower when max’s car shows in the mirror? “

Of course that wasn’t true, you just wanted to aggravate the English driver more. Once again, you tried prying your hands off his grip.

"Shut the fuck up . You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. " Lando bit back with so much animosity. You were definitely scared now .

Realizing that you are in the middle of a hall way and is still beneath Lando, you once again struggled to push him off.

" You know what, let go of me! I need to go to the debriefing for Pete's sake" You started squiggling trying to move away from under him, when an deep growl vibrated through your ear, causing shivers down your spine and goosebumps littering the nape of your neck.

"Don't.Move" Hearing him swallow and steady his breath, you smirked as you lay still below him and glared into his eyes challenging him further

Lando finally lets go of you as he stood up. Scrambling to your feet and dusting yourself off ; adjusting your driver suit and fixing your hair. You the felt his stare on you.

"What? The hell are you staring at?" With a scowl, you folded your arms and returned his stare with a glare.

"You changed your fireproofs" You looked down at your clothes . Your race suit was half open and your fireproofs were showing.

"What? Even my uniform you've got issues with? Should I also have my uniform exactly like yours instead? " you asked with a sneer as you patted the crease on your pants

"Stop trying to be different from everyone on the team! Fucking mooching on every mechanic . Know. your. fucking. place “ The British driver said scathingly.

Suddenly pissed, you decided to provoke Lando even further. Having enough of his bullshit. You drew your body near his , going on your tippy toes and placing a delicate hand on his chest, slowly dragging your fingernails to draw patterns on his fireproofs, feeling him tense under my touch. Fuck it! You were already a slut in his eyes anyway.

Slowly moving your lips to his jaw then towards his ear and whispered

"Does that make you angry, hmm, Lando? little ol me taking your precious spotlight? People adoring me instead of you. “ You tutted , making sure your voice held rotting sweetness

“All eyes on me. Does that make your blood boil? You getting nothing while I have everything, Lando?" Adding emphasis on his name, you gently moved your hand towards his hair and pulled.

Feeling Lando freeze and grow rigid from your touch you chuckled, you were about to move away, when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and suddenly pinning you against the wall with force.

" Don't fucking test me princess. Your playing a dangerous game. No one will look at you, I'll make sure of that.... Don’t prance around trying to win everyone to your side, you’re only mine to look at “ His lips ghosting the shell of your earlobe as he pulled you into his embrace even tighter.

Your breath hitched when you felt his teeth nip your ear. His lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, harshly biting the skin he traveled. He licked the junction of your neck and your shoulder, sucking and lapping his tongue over the bite. He let out a moan while you whimpered.

" Baby? I Never knew you could taste this good" Speechless , you stared at him as he licked his lips, your mind trying to gather any thought it could process.

"Win all the races you want, I don’t care. But don’t fucking flirt with anyone … and I don’t care if he’s your engineer. " With a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on your waist , Lando was gone

You stood shocked, heart pounding, in the deserted hallway,trying to piece everything that just happened.

[kaiser1ns]

love it when my fellow pals make deals with humankind. you are the cutest when it comes to temptations, saying how you won't give in but guess what ... you do give in and regret it later! well, i know dear ol' endo likes to make his deals not only to satisfy himself but also to help people like you see things from a different angle. i wish you the best of luck, my little puppet! oh, send him greetings from me when you see him, and now enjoy making deals with the devil.

𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻!𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

DEVIL ALWAYS TEMPTINGㄑword count :: 9669 ▿ does it matter that the boy you appeared with at the party to make your ex jealous, is actually a demon hungry for deals and human souls. that sounds fun, right?

CHOOSE ANOTHER DIMENSION IN WEIRDMAGEDDON

Friday nights were supposed to be fun and relaxing, you were supposed to be with your boyfriend sitting in front of a mirror, laughing and taking ridiculous pictures as you tried Halloween costumes together. He’d tease you about the silliest ideas you thought of like dressing up as peanut butter and jelly, or Sulley Sullivan and Mike Wazovski. You could still remember how his face lit up with that precious smile when he agreed to be a pirate and you as a siren. But tonight, you were the one drowning in tears of the deep ocean called love.

Instead of brightness and laughter, there was darkness and silence. The only light thing in your room came from the dim glow of your phone screen, showing how late it was, as you lay there on the soft mattress and now the weight of your thoughts pressed you down as hot tears escaped again. You wanted to stop crying, you were hurt and you couldn't open your eyes, you didn't even want to look at yourself knowing how miserable and pathetic you were right now.

Two weeks ago, Umemiya Hajime had ripped your heart from your body with a simple break-up and his reasoning was I’m sorry…I love you but I don’t feel the same anymore. It’s better to end this. We can always be friends, right? Be friends your ass, how can you still be something after everything that happened, after he broke up with you out of nowhere. The big party you'd been looking forward to was creeping up, and you had to show up … with a date. That was the worst part, you had to show up eventually if not with him at least with your friends. They were kind enough and tried to suggest people, but it felt forced and awkward. No one seemed to make a move on you, or they didn’t want to be your “pity date”.

And why would they? You were the one Hajime had dumped, the girl who wasn’t part of the perfect couple anymore. The butterflies were long gone and the pit in your stomach deepened every time you thought about that party, about him.

A big trash bag sat in the corner of your room, filled with reminders of the love that had once been around. Everything he had ever given you—every piece of clothing he bought because he thought you would look so cute, stuffed animals and merchandise, all inside ready to be thrown away. It hurt more than you wanted to admit. It meant so much to you, but you don’t need to keep memories from the past that will only add to this sorrow, and you knew better than to not dwell on the past for too long.

You could almost hear your friends’ voices amidst the chaos in your head telling you to get up, to find someone to go with. They said it was supposed to be fun, but fun was the last thing you wanted to experience as you had no date to go with. No one you knew wanted to go with you anymore because most of the boys you hung out with were Hajime’s friends. So what now? Would you go alone or just stay home? Finding some stranger to be your date seemed equally painful — pathetic even. You don’t know which is worse … going alone or pretending everything is okay. Sighing and letting the tears fall now, sinking deeper into the dark, suffocating from the emptiness as you closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened them, things would be different. But you knew they wouldn’t.

“I’m sick and tired of this.” but you couldn't just snap your fingers and be fine, it just had to happen, unfortunately in the most absurd way. "I hate men." Reaching for your phone you took it as the bright light immediately flashed before your eyes, and it took a few seconds to get used to it. What else could you do now besides watching videos on TikTok and Instagram? As quickly as you open the apps you immediately close them. What on earth is this algorithm showing you tarot readings, heartbroken quotes, and whatnot?

Ugh ... As if the universe wasn’t already cruel enough. You sat up, staring at the ceiling. If only there were a way to escape all of this sadness. Suddenly your phone buzzed because you forgot to turn it off, and a video popped up on the screen, grabbing your attention. It was some girl with bright eyes and a confident smile, talking about shifting and manifesting your desires. It sounded like another piece of nonsense you had seen a hundred times before, but something about the way she explained everything made you watch it till the end.

“But please be careful, okay guys?” she warned, her voice more serious, “If you see a tall black figure, it’s said to be the devil. He’ll want to make a deal with you. Do not look at him and run away. Trust no one.” She laughed softly at the end, maybe to make the viewers less scared by the information she just dropped. But you know what they say curiosity killed the cat. Shifting? Manifesting? A way to control your mind and your reality? You’d heard crazier things. Right now though, you were desperate and had nothing better to do. What else did you have to lose?

Wiping your face from the last tears, you took a deep breath and followed her instructions. Slowly, you calmed yourself, your breathing became even as you focused on the mental images she described. First came the colors—shimmering blue hues like the ocean, soft pink like the cherry blossom, and glowing golds. Then, shapes, doors, corridors, and rooms that were upside down twisted in the most impossibly and inexplicably ways. 

No, wait. You were dreaming. Your mind was creating all of this. It felt strangely lucid, as if you were half awake, half asleep in this vivid and colorful dream world. The corridors around you stretched out, leading to endless doors, each different from the last. But one door stood out from the rest. It was black, with tints of teal and all kinds of symbols drawn—triangles, stars, Roman numerals—it was like the graffiti that you see in town every day.

Without thinking, you walked towards it, your hand reaching before your mind could catch up. It’s just a dream, right? Nothing can hurt you here.

The door cracked open, revealing a large living room. The walls were adorned with paintings, most abstract as they gave more life to the black and white furniture. A massive couch sat in the center, inviting but oddly out of place. You stepped inside, scanning the room and on the nearby table, papers were scattered everywhere, filled with drawings. Picking one up, noticing how detailed it was. A wolf and a cannon and the word Frank stylized under it. Every line and stroke was done to its perfection, maybe the artist poured their soul into the work.

But just as you were about to check another one, something snatched the paper from your hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up. A big mistake.

There it was. The black figure.

It loomed over you, tall and shadowy, no face or nothing. Its form is undefined and menacing. You couldn’t make out a face, the presence was enough to freeze you in place. Panic made its way through you and you bolted towards the door. Run. You have to run and get out of this place. Oh, no. The door is locked and it doesn’t want to open, no matter how hard you pull the handle. This is just your dream. You can change it. You can control it. 

Stopping dead in your tracks, closing your eyes. A big, fluffy cat, you thought. That’s what it should turn into. Something harmless. 

When you opened your eyes, the black figure hadn’t turned into a cat. Instead, standing where the shadow had been was a boy. He looked about your age, his skin covered in tattoos—the same symbols that are drawn on the door, now etched across his arms, neck, and even fingers. His black curly hair fell slightly into his eyes, and he wore a sleeveless black tank top, a checkered jacket thrown over his shoulder, and dark pants. He looked completely normal, and even reminded you of the famous singer you adored.

“It's rude to come uninvited, you know?” he didn’t even look at you as he organized the drawings, which you assume were his. “It’s even more rude to stare at someone. Cat got your tongue, doll? You don’t like it here?”

You swallowed hard when you heard his voice. It was calm but had that teasing tone, almost mocking you in some way but at the same time it was nice, it wasn’t impolite. You wondered what to say, how to answer this mysterious person, and all that came out was a weak whisper. “I… I didn’t mean to …”

He chuckled slightly, leaving the stacked papers on the table as he looked over at you and you closed your eyes. Do not look him in the eyes, do not open them at any cost. The black-haired male raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Don’t be shy now. I was thinking of making changes to this place anyway. Do you have suggestions?” His eyes were sharp, piercing through the haze of your dream but you stayed quiet, nails digging into the palms of your hands. “What a pretty and sweet thing. Come one, open your eyes. I don’t bite…” Your heart pounded in your chest when you felt fingers under your chin tilting your head up. “Unless you want me to.”

You realized that, somehow, this boy wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. He was and felt very much real. He turned your head slightly, you couldn't see him but you could feel his eyes on you, lingering, waiting. What’s happening? You wanted to look, you wanted to see him again. You wanted to ... Then why don't you do it? It's just a fantasy, a dream. There is no logical explanation for what we dream, it just happens. 

You were imagining all sorts of horrors the boy could unleash, but instead of something terrible, you were met with an unexpected warmth. Slowly, almost unwillingly, you peeked through your lashes. There he was. Not menacing or cruel, but sweet. Warm. His blueish-teal eyes were soft as they locked onto yours, the light in the room reflected in them. His features were sharp, but not harsh, with the kind of effortless charm, the perfect balance between beauty and mystery that made your heart about to burst out of your chest. Is this the man of my dreams? You weren’t sure, but the longer you stared, the more your world started to turn upside-down, the more you felt the dizziness.

“Hi,” he finally said, his warm smile morphing into a devilish grin, and your stomach dropped. “Took you long enough, angel. Making eye contact is important when you meet new people.” He tilted your chin up with his hand, making sure your gaze stayed on him before letting go, running his fingers through his tousled black hair as he casually walked to the couch.

He sat down with his legs straddled, sinking into the cushions like he owned the place, his confidence radiating. With a lazy wave of his hand, he motioned for you to come closer. But you stayed pressed against the door, unable to just go to him like you were the best of friends.

“Who are you?” you blurted out, voice shaky. Your back stayed glued to the door, not ready to take any steps forward just yet. “And why are you in my dream?”

For a moment, his expression shifted. It wasn’t a surprise, more like he was amused as if he expected you to ask this but still found it entertaining. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch.

“Who am I?” he echoed, tapping his chin like he was deep in thought. “Well, I’m a single lady waiting for someone to put a ring on my finger.” You blinked, staring at him in confusion. Was that supposed to be funny? He looked at you, expecting a reaction, but you just gave him a blank stare. 

“Not funny?” He tilted his head, his grin faltering. You shook your head, still baffled. The corner of his mouth twitched as if suppressing a laugh, and then he shrugged it off. With a snap of his fingers, the click echoing in the quiet room, you were no longer by the door. You were sitting right next to him. "I'm many things, I can't tell you exactly who I am." he wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer to him, and you felt the warmth of his body.

Every time you blinked different types of food and drinks appeared on the table in front of you. You were very confused and still had no answers to your questions. It's just a dream, you tried to convince yourself, but you couldn't concentrate with the stranger’s hand on your shoulder. "And can I know your name so that I can take your sou–” he paused before clearing his throat and giving you a slight squeeze. “I mean soup recipe! I have been dying to try new things, so hopefully you can help me out.”

You glanced at the table again, more confused than ever. Soup recipes? This is ridiculous. But… maybe ridiculous was exactly what you needed right now. Slowly, you began to relax, letting the strangeness of the situation wash over you. Nothing bad can happen. It’s just a dream.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, testing how it felt to reveal something so simple. “And… well, is that even the right thing to tell someone new?”

“Shoot,” he replied, not missing a thing as he casually got a piece of cake from one of the plates. He took a bite, chewed a little loud, then held the fork towards you, offering a taste. You hesitated but then leaned in, accepting the bite. The cake melted in your mouth, unexpectedly delicious. I will do it, I guess? It wasn’t that bad, free food and a hot stranger. It was nice indeed.

You swallowed, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out. “So… my boyfriend, well, now ex broke up with me. And I just feel so… ugh!” You groaned, waving your hands in frustration. “I’m sad and angry and… just everything. He lost feelings? Like, what does that even mean?!”

His eyes widened, and leaning in slightly. “No way!” he gasped, playing into your exasperation as he talked with a full mouth. “Is he for real?”

“Yes!” you blurted, grateful for his dramatic reactions. “For real! He said he lost feelings out of nowhere and just ended things. It’s like I don’t even know what I did wrong! How do you just lose feelings like that?”

He made a face, shaking his head. “Do you want him to lose his mouth so he can stop with the bullshit?” You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion, though there was a part of you—maybe a very small, vengeful part that found the idea almost tempting. “No, I mean… is that even possible?” you asked, your curiosity rising despite yourself.

He grinned, leaning back into the couch now drinking from a cup that you were not sure if it was a real skull or not.  “Sweetheart, look around you. Everything is possible.”

You took a breath, looking around at the room that constantly shifted and changed with every blink of your eyes. He wasn’t wrong. Everything here feels possible. You shook your head lightly, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“So…” you began, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If everything’s possible, does that mean you can finally tell me who you are?” You leaned in, feeling more comfortable now. “It’s only fair, right? Sharing is caring.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze flickering with that same mystery. “Fair enough.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you and suddenly the atmosphere changed, you could feel the tension. “But where’s the fun in giving away all my secrets so soon?” Glancing at you again, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe you’ll figure it out. Or maybe…” He paused, his voice lowering into something more suggestive and dangerous, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready. Either way, angel, you’re in for a ride.”

Was this boy real? Or was he just another part of this wild, impossible dream?

But for now, you didn’t care. Something about him made you want to stay in this dream, even if just for a little longer. You trusted him, but at the same time, would you really trust someone who doesn't exist? They say that a person you don't know, but just passed by can appear in your dreams. It must be that, but why was it all so ... real? His touches, the taste of food, reactions, and feelings. 

“You’re no fun,” you teased, rolling your eyes as you reached for another bite of the various cakes displayed on the table. But before you could take it, he laughed and it wasn’t a genuine and comforting, more like a mocking laugh. “We’ll see about that pretty soon,” he said, his grin widening. 

Suddenly, everything vanished. The food, the room, him…all of it blinked out of existence in an instant. You gasped, finding yourself surrounded by pitch-black darkness. There was nothing but silence, your own breath echoing in your ears. Where did he go? As you stood there, frozen in time and nothingness, trying to make sense of it all.

But then, just as quickly as the darkness came, you blinked and opened your eyes—this time, for real. Your room greeted you with its familiar shadows and the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains and shining upon the many posters of your favorite band on the walls. You were back in bed, breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself. Sweat clung to your skin, your hands trembling slightly.

It was just a dream. Nothing more, you told yourself. You inhaled deeply, letting the cool air calm your nerves. It felt so real, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been, you wanted it to be. The nameless boy who gave you the attention and comfort you sought and longed for.

You shifted under the covers, pulling the fluffy blanket closer to your body, sinking into its warmth. The tension began to go away as you reassured yourself again. Just a dream. A strange one, but still… just a dream. Relaxing fully, you let your eyelids grow heavy, your mind slowly drifting off once more, feeling peaceful and safe in your own world.

What you didn’t know, however, was that you weren’t alone.

As you slipped into a deep slumber, a presence quietly joined you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close into a snug embrace. You felt the warmth against your back, but it was subtle, comforting enough that it blended into the haze of sleep. Fingers gently traced through your hair, playing with the strands, and a soft whisper tickled your ear.

“Good night, doll.” the familiar voice murmured, but you didn't hear or feel him because he was no longer a fragment of your imagination, but a real person...at least for what he would present himself to be.

And then you drifted off into the deepest, most relaxed sleep you’d had in weeks, unaware that the stranger from your dream had followed you into your reality.

The next morning, the first thing you felt was warmth—an unusual, comforting heat that made you snuggle deeper into your blankets. Your face nuzzled against something soft but firm, and without thinking, you wrapped your arms around it, sighing contentedly. You had no intention of waking up. It’s Saturday, no need to rush.

"Good morning, sunshine." the voice was sweet and teasing, as you let out a sleepy groan, burying your face further into what you assumed was your favorite plushie. “Mmm, five more minutes…” you muttered, your voice muffled by the warmth. You squeezed tighter, expecting to feel the familiar softness of your stuffed animal. But instead, your fingers brushed against something warmer, something that wasn’t soft cotton or fabric—skin.

Your eyes shot open, heart pounding as you jolted upright, realizing that what you were holding wasn’t a plushie but a human body. You gasped, scrambling back and tumbling off your bed with a loud thud on the cold ground, trying to piece together what was happening.

A head poked out from the top of the bed, black curls and teal eyes sparkling with nothing but playfulness. It was him—the boy from your dream last night, the same one you were sure had only existed in your imagination. But now he was, in your bed, looking down at you with that familiar devilish grin.

“I thought I was supposed to fall for you,” he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “But apparently, the roles are reversed.” He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your reactions and how he could smell the fear and panic. Your heart raced in your chest as you opened your mouth to scream, but before you could make a sound, he snapped his fingers. Instantly, your voice was gone, leaving you mute. You clutched your throat in horror, your mouth still wide open, but no sound came out. You tried again—nothing.

He leaned over the side of the bed, looking down at you with a smug expression. “Be quiet now, angel,” he said, his voice low and calm. “I don’t want you screaming…not yet.”

Your mind raced, thoughts going from point A to point Z. Who is he? How is he here? What is he? You crawled backward, pressing yourself against the wall, eyes wide with fear. He watched you, his head tilted slightly, clearly enjoying your reaction because to him this was just another game with humankind. He loved it when they showed fear, how afraid a person can become when they see him out of nowhere. It was priceless, the reactions and the emotions. You should see your face, he can’t stop staring at it.

"I know you have questions," he said casually, stretching his arms as if waking up from a peaceful nap. "But we'll get to that in a moment." He paused, looking around the room and how you decorated it, he will take some inspiration to his own if you don't mind. "First, let's make sure you didn’t hurt yourself with that fall, okay?"

With another snap of his fingers, you felt your body lighten. The fear that had gripped your chest was starting to leave, and though you still couldn’t speak, the panic was slowly being replaced by confusion—and maybe curiosity. You looked at him, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing added up.

"Better?" he asked, leaning back on his elbows, clearly far too comfortable in your bed. Managing to nod slightly, though your mind was still racing from the supposed dream to this pleasant morning surprise. Just what exactly was going on?

"Good. Now, let’s have a little chat, shall we?" he said, flashing you that grin again. You stood up and didn't sit on the bed next to him, but on the chair in front of your desk, pointing to your mouth, showing him that you really can't talk “Oh, yes. Sorry, doll.”

Watching him move around your room as if he belonged there. Every gesture, every glance he gave you made the air in the room feel heavier. His presence was suffocating, yet alluring in a way you couldn’t explain. He walked like he had always been there, but when he turned to look at you, it was as if he already knew what you were thinking—like he had known you for far longer than just this dream.

"So you want to make that jerk jealous, right?" he asked, his voice casual but sharp enough to pierce through your thoughts. You didn't answer right away, instead staring down at your hands as you played with your fingers.  “Eyes up here, darling,” he commanded, and despite not wanting to, your gaze lifted to meet his. It felt unnatural like some kind of spell was pulling you in, forcing you to obey. The moment your eyes locked with his, you felt that strange magnetic pull again, something dark yet engaging about him.

“I do… yes,” you finally answered, your voice quieter than you intended, because something was unsettling about how easily he was reading you, how he seemed to know your desires before you even thought about voicing them.

"And you want me to help you with that," he continued, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey, his smirk never faltering. "But, of course, you know that I’ll want something in return." His tone was teasing, yet you could sense the serious undertone that followed.  You stared at him, swallowing hard. “My soul right?” you asked, knowing full well who he was by now—though you were still processing the absurdity of it. Making a deal with the devil was a gamble and usually, the mortals always lose.

"Straight to the point. I like that. A bit impatient, but we’ll work on that." He chuckled, his fingers trailing over the objects in your room touching every piece of your life. His eyes flicked over to your wall, landing on a particular poster. It was of a musician you had a bit of an obsession with—tattoos, piercing on his eyebrow and mouth, the typical bad-boy image.

“The dude with the tattoo sleeve on the poster. You like him, huh?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Your face heated, embarrassment rushing over you. It was awkward enough to have a stranger in your room, but a boy commenting on your obsessions? That was a whole new level of awkwardness.

“Yeah, but what about it? You think you can pull off looking like him or something?” you fired back, your tone slightly defensive as you crossed your arms.

His grin grew wider, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Even better, sweets. Even better.” And with a snap of his fingers, you found yourself pressed against the wall, his body close, caging you in. Your heart raced as you stared up at him, your mind spinning at how effortlessly he had shifted reality.

“Let’s make a deal,” he whispered, his eyes flashing a deep, unnatural black, and for the first time, you noticed the small horns beginning to grow from his head. A black tail curled around your leg, sending a chill through your body. “I’ll be your boyfriend for the party, and you…” He leaned in, so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. “You’ll pay me back when the time comes. Don’t worry about it.”

You were both stunned and terrified, his presence overwhelming as his words echoed in your mind. Was this even real? Could you trust him? The truth was, you knew the answer already. You couldn’t trust the devil. But the temptation was there, and it made you desperate to unfold it and take it.

“How can I trust you?” you whispered, your voice shaking. His head rested on your shoulder as he chuckled softly against your skin, the vibration making goosebumps appear as you tensed at his sudden physical affection.

“My little puppet… wait, that’s not my line,” he murmured, the grin evident in his tone as he lifted his head to meet your eyes again. “My sweet doll, I can do things you wouldn’t even dream of. With a snap of my fingers, I can teleport you to the future, change the present, twist the past. I can give you everything you want.” His words were hypnotic, each syllable wrapping around your thoughts, making you wonder—what if?

It was true, everything about him screamed power. And you knew you deserved better than what your ex had given you. But this? Making a deal with the devil himself?

"You know you deserve better than that scumbag," he said, his hand grazing your cheek. "So, my offer stands—I’ll be your date to the party, and when the time comes, you’ll pay me back. Simple as that." His eyes glowed as he leaned closer, the danger in his smile was more than just a warning.

You took a shaky breath, trying to think rationally, but it was hard with him so close, his offer so tempting. "You know about the party? How?"

"I told you, I know everything." He stepped back slightly, giving you room to breathe as a swirl of blue flames danced in his hand. His grin widened as if he could sense the battle raging inside you. He stretched out his hand, the flames flickering and welcoming you.

“Deal or not?” He needed to convince you because you were perfect and he loved when girls turned up to him for help, especially with their love lives. But the thing is you never searched for him, you just found him on accident and that to him was something new. This never happened before, he was always summoned but seeing how scared to how comfortable you could get with him in seconds ... He wanted to have you all for himself.

You stared at his hand, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. This was a perfect opportunity, but was it right? You wanted to show up with a date, and you did want to take revenge. But you have morals, at least you thought you did. If Umemiya can't love and satisfy you then another man will. And yet…what would the cost be?

But before you could stop yourself, your hand was in his, shaking it.

"Endo Yamato, pleased to date you," he said with a sly grin. The blue flames also engulfed your arm and you expected them to burn you, but they were surprisingly warm and didn't cause any pain. Looking around you saw most of the objects were in the air, you were also levitating until the flames disappeared and everything fell into place.

"Y/N is everything alright?" your mother's voice echoed as you heard the footsteps approaching. Still holding his hand and panicked because, in a few seconds, your mother would see you with a strange guy in your room. What would she think, finding you and him? Surely, she’d freak out. 

"I-I..." you looked at Endo expecting him to help you but he just grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos, making you sit back down on the bed as if nothing had happened. He, however, took a seat at your desk, turning on your computer and launching a random game as if he’d done this a thousand times before. It was disturbingly domestic like you were truly a couple who had just spent the night together again.

The door opened, and instead of the explosion of anger you expected, your mother greeted you with a warm smile. She walked in with a plate of cake. "Oh, Yamato! What a pleasant surprise, I didn’t know you were staying over." She didn’t even blink at his presence, as if he had always been a part of your life.

Your heart nearly stopped. How did she know him? You stared at her, mouth hanging open, while Endo merely smiled, leaning back in the chair with waving his hand, pausing the game he finished in milliseconds, and it took you a whole week to do it.

"Good morning, ma’am! Y/N told me you make the best cake. Figured I'd stay and have some," he said, and you could almost hear the teasing in his voice. Your mother chuckled, completely unfazed. "Well, I’ll get another plate for you then. I’ll be right back." She turned and left the room, leaving you in a dead silence.

The door clicked shut, and you quickly turned to him, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”

Endo didn’t look concerned. If anything, he looked pleased with himself. "Relax, sweetheart. I just adjusted things a little. In your parents’ minds, I’m your new boyfriend. They know me, they like me. I even got your mom to bake me a cake. Now that is what I call power." He winked, leaning forward in the chair.

"You… you messed with their minds?" you stammered, scared of how much he messed up with their minds and you hope he only did that and nothing else.

"Yeah.." He stretched his arms lazily getting up from the chair. "Now I exist to them. To everyone who matters, I’m your charming boyfriend, Yamato. And no one will think twice about us going out together or hanging around. I made myself part of your world."

You sat there, heart racing, trying to process it. It felt like you were in some type of movie, in Wonderland but after everything else—the dreams, the flames, the deal—it was hard to deny. He really was in your life now. And worse? He was making himself comfortable.

"So," he continued, his eyes sparkling with what you want to think of was the life he took from you, "how about we go shopping for those Halloween costumes? I want to make sure we’re the best-looking couple at this party."

You blinked, trying to shake off the lingering shock. “Costumes? Already?” He grinned, standing up from the desk. "Why not? You want to look perfect, right? And I’ll be the perfect date. Trust me." You hesitated, but part of you, maybe the reckless part, was curious. This strange, devilish boy had thrown your life into chaos, but he offered something hard to resist: a way to take control, to show up at the party with someone who’d make your ex regret everything.

"Fine," you muttered. "But, I need to get dressed first."

"Sure," he said, not moving. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and didn’t mind if you changed in front of him. But you did mind because you wanted your privacy, at least whatever you can call alone time now.

"Please get out!" you repeated, voice more forceful this time, pulling your shirt halfway up your stomach before realizing he wasn’t leaving. His gaze lingered, his lips curling into a smirk. He was like a snake, a beautiful but venomous snake ready to strike you down anytime. "Why? You’re my girlfriend now. You shouldn’t be shy around me," he teased, his eyes trailing down to where your skin was exposed. The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made your stomach flip.

You flushed, face hot with embarrassment and frustration. Grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket, you marched him toward the door. “Go eat some cake while I’m getting ready,” you muttered, pushing him out. Endo chuckled, hands raised in surrender. “Alright, alright. But don’t take too long, doll. We’ve got a date to plan.” He shot you a wink before disappearing down the hall.

You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. What have I gotten myself into? You couldn’t deny the thrill, but the danger was just as real. Endo Yamato wasn’t just some ordinary guy—he was trouble in every sense of the word. And now, he was your devilishly charming boyfriend.

Was this the biggest mistake of your life? Maybe. But there was no going back now. With one final look in the mirror, you shook off the nerves. If anyone could make Umemiya Hajime regret breaking up with you, it was Endo Yamato. And you will embrace your new life, whatever it offers you will take it. You just signed a deal with the devil, so take advantage of the luxury.

The mall was full of people as ever, the noise of chatter and music echoing in the background as you and Endo wandered through store after store. His hand was warm in yours, firm, yet oddly comforting despite the strangeness of everything that had happened. It had been his idea to treat you, to buy you something nice, and while the gesture was sweet, it left you feeling... a bit out of place.

You stood in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in a short white dress that hugged your figure in ways you weren’t used to. Your boyfriend stood behind you, watching with a satisfied smirk as you hesitated, his reflection staring back at you. He held a few more clothes in his arms, ready to spoil you with more options.

"You look so good," he said, his voice soft but confident. He reached out and held up the same dress in different colors. "There's also a pink and blue one. Which do you like more?" But instead of picking, you just stared at yourself, a sadness creeping over your features. You weren’t used to wearing things like this. It fits you perfectly, accentuating curves you usually hid beneath looser clothing. When you were with Umemiya, he never cared what you wore—he let you stay in your comfort zone, never pushing you to try anything new. Now, here you were, feeling exposed and unsure, your usual self-confidence slipping away.

Endo noticed immediately. He glanced at you in the mirror and saw the doubt on your face. His smile faded slightly, replaced with something more thoughtful, "What's wrong?" You hesitated, still looking at the reflection instead of him. “I’m just… not used to dressing like this,” you murmured, “What if people stare at me?”

Ah, so that was it. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his grip on the clothes tightened as he processed your words. He could tell you were beautiful, no matter what you wore, but he also understood. You were stuck in a box, never exploring past the boundaries you’d built around yourself. You deserved more than what you’d allowed yourself to have. He had something in mind for that. 

He turned to you, his expression more serious now. “I’ll be honest with you,” he began, stepping closer so you could still see his reflection standing tall behind you. “No one’s going to care. And if they do stare, let them. Who are they to you?”

His words hit hard. You looked up, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and they were trying to convince you. "Nobody," you said softly, realizing that he was right. The people out there, the strangers, their opinions didn't matter. But still, that nagging self-doubt clung to you.

Endo’s gaze softened as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly to face him. “You can’t let yourself stay trapped in this comfort zone forever. If you do, you’ll keep missing out on new things, new sides of yourself you haven’t even discovered yet.” He was deadly serious now, his tone steady. “You’re beautiful no matter what. But you deserve to see how much more there is to you than what you’ve been hiding behind. So don’t let anyone, not even yourself, make you feel less.”

You sighed, your eyes flickering between him and the clothes he was holding. You knew he was right, but stepping out of that comfort zone was easier said than done. Still, something about his words made you feel… braver. You could take that step, even if it was small. Finally, you took the clothes from his hands.

“I won’t even try them,” you said, suddenly resolute. “I’ll just buy them.” Endo’s lips curled into a proud, satisfied smile as he watched you head back into the dressing room to change into your original outfit. When you emerged, his eyes lit up, and he couldn’t hold back a wide grin. "Now, that’s my girl."

You smirked back, feeling lighter than before. “You’re paying, though.” He laughed, seeing how he provoked you into doing something so simple. “Of course, doll. Anything for you.”

As you walked together to the cashier, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like things were changing. Maybe Endo was right—maybe this was the start of something new, a side of yourself you hadn’t known before. Whether it was him or the situation, you weren't sure yet, but you knew that stepping out of your comfort zone felt a little less terrifying. Having the devil as your boyfriend was an experience of its own: both thrilling and exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see Umemiya’s reaction. 

After Endo paid, the two of you walked out of the store, your hands weighed down with at least three shopping bags filled with clothes that were far beyond your usual style. You felt strange and satisfied yet guilty at how much you bought. But somehow, that discomfort that had followed you earlier was fading. Maybe it was his influence or the fact that he had pushed you out of your little box, but the worry was no longer coming at you. 

The devil walked beside you, his hand still casually intertwined with yours, his other hand holding his bag from one of the stores where he insisted you pick out something cute because spoiling you was part of his fun. He is your boyfriend, it's his duty to make you feel good and enjoy yourself.

"We’ve got you new clothes," he said, glancing down at the bags swinging by your side. “Now, for the Halloween costumes... What do you want us to be?"

You hadn’t even thought about the party since all this craziness started. But Halloween was coming up in just two weeks, and you needed to decide. The two of you made your way to a nearby Halloween shop, the sound of spooky music and the bright displays pulling you inside. You wandered through the aisles, surrounded by racks of costumes and props…You were not using the costumes you bought with Umemiya, totally not. So it’s time to think of something new.

“Maybe something simple?” you suggested, looking through the shelves of cheap costume accessories. Your hand landed on an angel halo and some flimsy white wings. You held them up and smiled, “I could be an angel.”

Endo raised an eyebrow, “How fitting,” he said, voice laced with irony as he reached up to pat the small horns protruding from his head. “You know I don’t need a costume, right?” Somehow, you forgot what happened in the morning and how he turned into his true form with horns and a tail, wrapped around your leg. Good for him, because he can pretend they are real unless someone wants to try them on. Oh, well that’s a problem for the future.

“Right, you already come with the horns and tail. Guess we’re going as the classic angel and devil couple, then.” You tossed the wings and halo into your basket and turned to see him eyeing some fake devil horns hanging on a rack. He glanced at them before shrugging. “I think I’m good,” he said, pointing to where his horns were supposed to appear.  “I’ll just wear what I’ve got.” 

Once you had everything you needed, the two of you left the store, the cool evening breeze hitting your face as you walked out of the mall. It was such a good day today. Going towards the parking lot, Endo stopped for a second, turning toward you and before you could ask what he was up to, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. 

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as warmth flooded your face, your cheeks burning bright red. The butterflies you thought had long since died after Umemiya’s betrayal? They were very much alive now, fluttering like crazy in your stomach. 

He pulled back, his smirk widening as he took in your reaction. “You’re blushing,” he teased, eyes full of satisfaction. You couldn’t deny it, the heat in your face said it all. “I-I’m not!” you stammered, trying to play it cool, but the way your voice wavered gave you away completely. You know this boy for not even 24 hours and he is already making you feel like this. It’s the magic, most definitely you will blame it on his magic.

“Sure, angel,” he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around your waist as you both made your way back to the car. “But I think I’m starting to grow on you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, letting out a small sigh as you rested your head on his shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake of your life after all.

“Wait, hang on…” you asked removing your head from him as you looked at him, because why are you in a car, and not at the bus station? “We came with the bus, how do you suddenly have a car? And so much money?”

“Less questioning, more watching the pretty sunset.” his hand gently turned your face to the window to watch as the sky was tinted with pink and yellow hues, making you forget about everything as he stepped on the gas. Maybe deals with the devil don't sound so bad after all.

It was October 31st—Halloween night. Ever since Endo had stepped into your life, he had turned everything upside down. He wasn’t just the devil you made a deal with, he had become the best boyfriend you had ever had. He was doting, caring, and spoiling you beyond measurements. One night, while your parents were asleep, he teleported you away to Paris to have croissants under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower. Another time, you skipped school just to marvel at the Sistine Chapel together. Whatever you asked for, you’d get. But you were careful not to ask for much because the payment would escalate quickly.

The magic wasn’t just about the exotic trips. Endo made you feel more confident, you were finding yourself in ways you hadn't before, and he loved watching you fly with your new wings. He encouraged you to push boundaries, be bold, and stand up for yourself. It wasn’t just a Halloween costume you were slipping into tonight; it was a new version of yourself, and you could tell he was proud of that.

Tonight, though, he was being extra annoying, and was testing your patience. Standing behind you in the bathroom as you applied your makeup, his tail had found its way around your waist again, tugging you close as you tried to focus on getting ready.

“Yamato, I told you to stop wrapping your tail around me,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm as you swiped the red lipstick across your lips, making a satisfying pop sound. Pulling away from the mirror, examining your reflection. The white dress, the halo perched above your head, the wings—it all screamed angel. But what kind of angel were you really? A fallen one perhaps.

He grinned, his sharp teeth peeking through as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Can’t help it, angel. You’re stuck with me.” His voice was playful, reminding him how much he enjoyed teasing you. You rolled your eyes. “Remove it before I cut it off,” you warned, turning slightly to meet his gaze. His tail loosened immediately, slinking back, but his grin remained as wide as ever.

"What happened to ‘I love you’, ‘You are the best’, ‘Please, harder and fas–" You put a hand over his mouth and he pretended to be defeated, but there was pride in his eyes. He was happy to see how much you had changed over the past two weeks. The girl who once doubted herself had become confident and bold, and he loved every second of it. 

He watched as you adjusted the final touches of your outfit. “Look at you now," he said, his voice low and almost admiring. "Such a pretty and bossy woman. I love that new side of you.”

You slipped on your white heels, the final touch to your angelic costume. But as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but question. What was even angelic about you anymore? You had let him claim you in every possible way. Your body, your soul, everything was his, and you didn’t regret it as everything happened so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if he used his magic to make Halloween come faster.

Grabbing your phone, you prepared to upload another Instagram story with your devil darling. Ever since you posted him for the first time, everyone who had ignored or unfollowed you was suddenly watching your stories again. Funny how that worked. You smirked, knowing that tonight’s post would send them reeling and you will know the gossip because of your friends. They always tell you if someone is talking behind your back, someone like Hiragi insulting Endo, or Tsubaki being disappointed in you…and Umemiya saying he is fine but he isn’t fine.

“Showing me off again?” He asked, leaning back, watching you swipe through your phone. You nodded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the mirror. “Of course. People love the drama between me and Umemiya.”

You were no longer the quiet, shy girl who stayed within the lines, living by the rules set by others. You had stepped out of the zone and were living in a big mansion, filled with adventure, luxury, and a man who encouraged you to rise higher instead of keeping you stuck in one place. The devil had taught you something valuable: first, to believe and love yourself, and second, to choose a man who would elevate you, not hold you back.

“Ready for tonight?” he smiled, his horns gleaming in the bathroom light, perfectly matching your halo. “I’ve never been more ready. Let’s show them what a real angel and devil look like.”

Match made in Heaven—is what he enjoyed telling everyone and only the two of you knew the meaning. One thing was clear: You were in love with the devil, and he didn't just want your soul for the deal—he wanted everything from you. Endo Yamato wanted you. Make sure to repay him fully because the devil is always tempting, and he hates to wait too long.

It was like time had stopped, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, hoping he hadn’t done anything that involved magic for this dramatic entrance. Everyone turned their heads to watch as you walked through the crowd with Endo. But his smirk told you he hadn’t done any tricks, much surprising to you—tonight you were simply the topic of discussion.

His arm tightened around your waist, and the big room was filled with whispers and glances, and it made you uncomfortable at some point and he sensed this, leaning down playfully whispering in your ear. “Just ignore them, angel. We're just giving them a free show~”

Well, if it wasn’t your best friend the fate itself when you found yourself face-to-face with none other than your…ex. He was accompanied by Hiragi and Tsubaki, the two friends you’d once spent so much time with. Umemiya looked at you and you could see the surprise, confusion, and maybe even regret in his eyes. He managed a weak smile, but couldn’t take his eyes off Endo, who only gave him that signature devilish smirk.

“Hi,Ume!" you greeted cheerfully, waving to Hiragi and Tsubaki, trying to make this less awkward and with how Umemiya barely reacted, still, clearly caught off guard by the presence of your devilishly attractive date. “Hi,” he muttered, eyes lingering to Endo.

"So what do you want to talk about?" you asked wanting to just have fun without thinking so much about past relationships. Umemiya'a was a wonderful boyfriend, but Endo was out of this world. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group until Umemiya finally cleared his throat, "Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked as you glanced at your boyfriend, and he just shrugged, releasing his hold on you, as if he knew that whatever conversation you had with Umemiya, it wouldn’t change a thing. “Go ahead,” he said, giving you an encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, you followed Umemiya to a quieter corner of the room, away from prying eyes but close enough that you could still feel Endo's gaze, watchful and reassuring, grounding you in your decision to move forward.

“So...uh,” Umemiya began, keeping his eyes on yours trying to search for an answer, trying to search for the real you. “You really...you’re really with him?” 

“Yes, I am,” you replied, keeping that calm and confident tone, because you needed to assure him that everything was fine, even without him. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Umemiya’s jaw clenched, and he looked away as if trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Look, I know things got...weird between us. I never thought you’d—” He hesitated, eyes flicking back to Endo, who was currently chatting with some other partygoers, yet somehow still looked every bit as menacing. “I mean, him, really?” 

“Yes, him. If you are going to judge me, just let's drop this conversation and have fun?” you said, getting a little annoyed but you understood his concerns. However, he is an ex for a reason. “He treats me well, listens to me, and I’ve been happier. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Umemiya frowned, he was frustrated “I didn’t think you’d… move on so fast.” He looked at a loss for words, struggling with the effects of his own choices. You took a deep breath, finally feeling closure start to settle over you. Whatever you’d once wanted from him—an apology, an explanation—no longer mattered. You’d moved on. “Look, I hope you will have fun despite everything. Past is past, forgive and forget, right?” you said, ending the conversation with that same smile you gave to him when he was feeling down.

As you turned to walk back to Endo, you felt at peace. Your past with Umemiya was just that—your past. Rejoining him by the drinks, he looked down at you, so curious. "You came back very quickly. How did it go?" he asked handing you a drink which you drank immediately. He knew how it went, what the conversation was, after all, he is the Devil... he has eyes and ears for all evil. "Nothing much. He's just sad, I guess. But I don't care." He just nodded and looked at you with that look, as if you were something so sweet and lovely, like a dessert ready to be savored. He was sure to savor every last bit of you when the time came for you to repay him.

"Yamato, are you listening?" waving your hand in front of his face you slightly worried for him. "Yeah, yeah. You wanted to fix your make-up?" He chuckled, leaning down closer to you. Smiling, you took his hand, guiding him through the crowd toward the restroom. As you walked, people parted to make way, their eyes on the angel and the devil, perfectly matched.

By "fixing your makeup” you hadn’t meant making out, but Endo had other plans. His lips met yours as he leaned in, pressing you gently against the wall. You closed your eyes, letting the world fall away. His hands found your waist, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, and your mind went blank as his lips brushed against your neck, leaving traces of his dark lipstick on your skin. You weren't the only couple being all over each other, so who cares what you do?

When you finally caught your breath, you opened your eyes, only to see his smirk—sly and devilish as he pulled away, leaving you flustered and breathless. "Why did you stop?" You didn’t immediately realize why he’d pulled back until you followed his gaze. Standing a few feet away, looking as if he had seen a ghost, was Umemiya. Endo’s teal eyes were exactly like his flames, burning and full of what one could say is lust and joy, as he caught your ex’s gaze and, finally showed his real black eyes and sharp fangs.

It was Halloween, after all. Strange things are bound to happen, and if anyone asked, it was just an impressive costume trick, okay?

Endo’s hand found its way back to your face, and he kissed you once more, gentler this time but no less possessive. "Just relax and give your soul to me," he whispered against your lips, the words a promise that felt as luring as his embrace. "Give me everything so I can give you so much more."

You closed your eyes again, the feeling of being in his arms somehow made all your doubts, insecurities, and the heartache you’d carried from your past with Umemiya fade away. For the first time, you felt completely, unapologetically loved.

When you finally pulled away, the Devil watched you catch your breath, your heart racing as he could feel how you were wanting and begging for more. "Come on, angel," he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek with a grin. "This party is boring. Let me show you how demons like to have fun." Tonight, you were in his world, where the rules didn’t matter, much more than any exes of yours.

Tonight he will show you how much fun is to make tempting deals with the Devil, so enjoy yourself to the last bite of the apple—temptation is the key to your soul.

WEIRDMAGEDDON VICTIMS :: @maruflix @exkiusme @17020 @stunies @y2kuromi @seneon @littleplantfreak @meidiary @heartkaji @nyxypoo @ryescapades

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 10 (Finale): Stand Tall | Bang Chan

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (You Are Here)

Synopsis: After restless planning, the phantoms and y/n finally book a life-changing gig in order to accomplish 3RACHA's unfinished business. Will they perform in time, or will they flicker away?

Genre: 3RACHA/Julie and the Phantoms AU, Angst, Crack, Fluff

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader [Occurs in this chapter], Minsung if you squint

Warnings: Mentions of death, a little rushed

Notice: And just like that, darlings, we have reached the end. I want to thank you all for the love you have shown for this series. I know it has been long, and the parts are rushed at times; however, I have loved writing this series, and every note on it makes my heart light up. In order to go out strong, I may or may not have added a scene we all wanted to be in the actual finales :) For one final time, I own no rights to 'Julie and the Phantoms,' nor do I believe Han Jisung is gay in real life. Without further ado, enjoy the finale of 'The Phantoms.'

"Don't worry guys," Han said as the three phantoms walked under the bright, flashing sign of the Orpheum Theater. "Minho said he would get us on the set-list tonight, and I trust him."

"This is going to work, right?" Changbin questioned, doubt present in his tone.

"It has to," Chan replied. "It's our only shot."

As if on cue, a shocking, angry jolt coursed through the guys' bodies, making them double over in pain just like so many times prior.

"Are you guys alright?" a concerned voice asked from behind the boys. All three turned around to meet Minho face-to-face, agonizing and confused expressions etched onto their faces.

"We're great," Han answered, sarcasm laced thickly in his voice. "Nothing we haven't felt before. Nevermind us, though. How did derailing the band go?"

"Well let's just say," Minho began with a smirk, "that when the opening band wakes up, they're gonna find themselves 200 miles outside of Vegas!" Minho turned around, showing off the back of a merchandise jacket he had no doubt snagged from the tour bus, smiling as he displayed it proudly. Chan stepped forward, fist-bumping Minho with pride in his motions and demeanor.

"Which means, there is definitely a manager upstairs right about now freaking out," he commented, chuckling as he did so.

"No way, man," Minho replied. "I'm sure he's being very professional as a Hollywood business man."

If by professional, Minho meant the promoter was upstairs banging his phone against his desk while yelling a plethora of profanities, then yes; he was being extremely professional.

The air was silent after Minho's last statement, and Han stepped forward, anxiety present in his gut. Chan and Changbin caught wind of the seriousness and stepped away, giving the two boys time to talk.

"I know how much you're risking for us," Han began, his demeanor a mix of regret and appreciation. "Thank you, Minnie. Truly."

"I told you," Minho responded, swatting playfully at the younger's chest, "I would do anything for you."

Han did not reply verbally; before he could think, he had thrown himself into Minho's arms, hugging the male in a tight embrace as if it would be the last time they ever spoke.

Which it very well could have been.

Minho reciprocated the action without a second thought, burying his head in the crook of Han's neck and squeezing the afterlife out of the younger. They stayed like that for a minute or do before Han pulled away, resting his hands briefly on Minho's shoulders.

"You better get out of here," Han giggled, although his words were genuine. "Y'know, before Seungmin catches you with us."

"Yeah, you're right." Minho's gaze flickered down, sadness etched into it before he looked back to Han. "I'll see you around, Hannie. I promise this isn't the last time."

Minho did not give time for Han to respond before he skated away, tears threatening to well up as he reminisced on the moments he had spent with the boy. Han watched as he left, his heart aching; he held onto Minho's promise sacredly, genuinely praying that it indeed was not the last time they would speak to each other.

As soon as Minho left Han's line of sight, Changbin stepped forward, resting a tight, comforting hand on Han's shoulder.

"You alright?" he inquired, his tone full of care.

"Yeah," Han lied, swallowing a lump in his throat before turning around. "Yeah, I'm alright."

"Well, mate, thanks to your boyfriend, Panic! at the Disco needs an opening band," Chan enthusiastically commented, smiling at the blush spreading on Han's cheeks at the mention of Minho as his "boyfriend."

"Then I guess someone upstairs needs to know that Y/n and the Phantoms is available," Han replied, a sincere smile replacing the faux one that was there prior.

---

The phantoms warped to the upstairs room where the manager was residing, and further slamming his phone against his desk as he yelled at whoever was on the other line to, "stop saying the bus drove itself."

"Minho was right," Changbin spoke up, his voice cheeky. "Guy's a total pro."

"Alright, mates," Chan began, rubbing his hands together. "Let's make this happen. Just, Han, no dancing this time."

Han ignored the boy, erupting into a sequence of ballet steps as he made his way over to the assistant's laptop; Chan only chuckled in response, shaking his head at the younger's actions. On the last step, a perfect pirouette, Han reached one hand down to knock the assistant's pencil-holder off of her desk.

Show time.

Changbin used the time she was distracted to pull up the YouTube video your father had uploaded of the 'Edge of Great' performance on the assistant's laptop; meanwhile, Han scribbled down your number onto a Post-it. Both phantoms snapped away once they noticed the assistant rising back up.

"Tasha, get CJ and tell him I need a band to open in three hours!" an angry manager screeched.

"Sure, but come check this out real quick," she retorted, motioning for the manager to come over. He leaned over her shoulder, his eyes in awe as he watched the video. "Somehow, this video started playing on my laptop, and its got nearly a million hits in just two days. They're a hologram band called Y/n and the Phantoms."

"Tell your friends!" Changbin smirked as Chan threw an arm around him.

"Where are they located?" the manager asked excitedly.

"Our very own City of Angels."

"Book 'em, then! What are you waiting for?!"

The phantoms threw their hands up in success, cheering as the assistant noticed the Post-it with the number scratched onto it; she looked around in fear, wondering how on earth it managed to get there.

---

You were pacing around the studio, worry etched into your features as you attempted to steady your breathing. Suddenly, the phantoms appeared in the garage, causing you to let out a deep sigh.

"Oh my gosh!" you yelled. "What took you guys so long? Did Minho do it? Did you talk to them? Did they watch the video? Did they like it if they did? Are we playing the freaking Orpheum or not?!"

"Okay, that's a lot of questions!" Changbin screamed back, motioning for you to halt in your interrogation. "Chan, I'm leaving this one to you."

"Take a seat, Love," Chan commanded, and you obliged, looking at him with a blend of nervousness and optimism in your gaze. All three phantoms crouched in front of you as he continued. "It's fine, everything is fine!"

"Yeah, you should be getting a call right..." Han paused, pointing to you first and then to your phone, "now!"

In contrast to his words, your phone stayed muted; you looked at the boys, worry returning to your stare as they looked to each other, shrugging for answers.

"Okay, how about," Han tried again, "right....now!"

This time on cue, your phone began buzzing, the caller ID popping up as unknown from Hollywood, California. You and the boys began jumping around, squealing from excitement and stimming enthusiastically as the weight of the moment came upon you all.

"What are you waiting for? Answer it!" Chan nearly screeched as he motioned to your phone. You nodded your head, muttering a string of 'okays' as you slid on the phonecall; you cleared your throat before talking in attempts to sound professional.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Tasha from the Orpheum in Hollywood."

Upon that statement, you, Chan, Han, and Changbin began parading around the studio, silently cheering for yourselves as Tasha continued speaking.

"Is this y/n of Y/n and the Phantoms?"

You held your hands out, signalling for the phantoms to halt in their celebration as you picked your phone up from the coffee table where it had been on speaker-phone.

"Yes, it is!"

You gave the boys a thumbs up, a sign that they continue their excited antics; as such, they went back to screeching happily as you told Tasha you could indeed open for P!ATD that night and thanking her for the opportunity. Chan and Changbin picked Han up, swinging him around the room as you happily declared that you were playing the Orpheum tonight.

"I'm swimming!" Han playfully said as he moved his arms in a scuba-motion, causing all three of you to chuckle.

---

"Y/n and I were thinking we start with 'Stand Tall,'" Chan excitedly explained as he circled the song on a piece of paper laying atop the grand piano; it was a setlist for the night, with songs that you and Chan had picked carefully marked in a bulleted list.

"Cool," Han remarked.

"Sounds good," Changbin followed.

"Sounds good?!" Chan yelled, his voice coming off sharper than intended. "Mate, are you serious? We're getting to play the show of our dreams! I want to hear that it sounds awesome! I know it's not how things were supposed to turn out, but not many people get a second try at this sort of thing!"

"I get that," Changbin blankly stared, his voice cracking slightly, "but it's hard. We don't know what's on the other side when we cross over, Chan. Do we all still get to be together?" His voice faltered, and his gaze shifted to the floor.

"You guys are the only family I have. I don't wanna lose you guys."

"Yeah, I mean," Han began, "I don't know what's gonna happen either, but it's not like we have a choice."

At that moment, another agonizing jolt flickered over the boys, knocking them backwards intensely; as they recovered, Changbin rubbed his wrist, soothing it from the electrifying pain he had just experienced.

"Well, we technically do," he corrected. "Only thing is it rhymes with Bollywood Toast Snub."

Before Chan could protest, you swung open the studio doors; you had a clothing hanger in hand, which contained the outfit you were going to wear for the night: a purple, flowing dress with a black leather jacket. Both pieces of clothing had previously belonged to your mother, and you felt they were only appropriate to wear for the performance.

"We ready?" you excitedly asked as you approached the boys; contrary to what you had expected, they were silent, painful and regretful gazes upon their faces as they looked at you.

"What's going on?" you followed up, a pang in your chest arising as you looked between all three of them.

"Nothing," Han instantly assured. "We just got rocked really hard by one of those jolt things." You nodded, unconvinced but allowing it to slide.

"Okay, well uh, Channie? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he stumbled over the affirmations, walking quickly towards you and facing you. You went to hand your outfit on the door handle of the garage door before returning to him; your figures were much closer than normal, and as you looked up at Chan, a smile came over you, shy but genuine.

"What?" Chan asked, his eye-contact filled with adoration as he looked at you and his heart swelling from your beauty.

"Can you do me a favor?" you questioned, your gaze morphing into one of solemnness.

"Anything, y/n," Chan replied quickly, shining a brief smile. "You know I will."

You exhaled deeply, struggling to find the way to word your favor.

"When you guys cross over," you began, your tone quivering from how hard the statement was to materialize, "if you happen to see my mom, can you tell her I love her...and thank her for bringing you to me?"

Chan's eyes softened as a small, close-lipped smile formed. He nodded, slowly but surely.

"Yes, I absolutely will," he replied, his own voice shaking just barely. "And I will also thank her for bringing me to such an amazing girl." You felt your cheeks flush at his comment, but you kept your gaze upon him, making intimate yet sincere eye contact.

"Band circle?" you asked in attempt to break the tense moment.

"Yeah," Chan answered, the two of you joining Han and Changbin by the piano as Chan told them about the plan. Han, Changbin, and Chan joined hands in the circle, and your hands hovered above theirs, a habit you had picked up from not being able to physically touch the boys.

"We don't know what brought us here," Chan started, his gaze flickering between Changbin and Han before landing on you once again. "What we do know is that you're a star, y/n."

Chan's eyes were filled with nothing short of pure love as he spoke to you; the weight of both his words and his stare making the heat in your cheeks spread across your face. The both of you displayed bright grins before Chan continued.

"And just because this is our last night together, it doesn't mean we won't be watching you from above, or..." Chan clicked his tongue, nodding his head to the ground; the comment made you giggle as the other two phantoms shook their heads.

"Now, let's rock this show," he yelled out. "We're gonna give Hollywood a performance that they'll be talking about until the sun comes up. Legends on three." Chan stuck his right hand in the center of the band circle; Han and Changbin laid theirs overtop, and yours hovered just above the aforementioned three.

"One," Han began the countdown.

"Two," Changbin added.

"Three," you finished.

"Legends!" all four of you screamed as you threw your hands up victoriously. The moment was broken up by a horn honk, which made the boys turn their heads in the direction of the noise.

"That's my dad," you explained. "He's driving me to the Orpheum, so I'll see you guys there."

You begrudgingly walked away from the phantoms, your gaze lingering on Chan as you strided. His eyes followed you as you exited, fondness washing over his stare as he focused on you.

"She's awesome," he muttered to himself.

"Yes she is, isn't she?"

The ghosts snapped their heads around as a dark, ear-wrenching voice sounded from behind them. Their gazes widened and their hearts sunk as they met the figure.

"What are you doing here, Seungmin?" Chan demandedly asked, absentmindedly approaching the phantom with his brows furrowed and his lips pursed.

"Such hostility, Chan!" Seungmin dodged his question, instead teasing him for the rough edge to his words. "I'm just here to congratulate you on the big night! Not everyone gets to play the Orpheum! Especially not twice!"

"Cut the crap, mate," Chan snarled. "We know it's you that's doing this to us. We already told you: we have a band, and we don't want to join your little club."

"Hmm," Seungmin hummed out, ponderation bright in his eyes. "Y'see, boys, the funny thing about crossing over is that no one knows what really goes on on the other side. But I know exactly what's happening on this side."

With that, he blew a kiss towards the phantoms, puffing out a huge plume of smoke at them; as the fumes reached their figures, they disappeared, warping away as Seungmin cackled.

"You may not want to join, but you're going to."

---

"Well don't you all look so nice?"

The boys had appeared in the Hollywood Ghost Club, now wearing formal suits in their respective colors instead of their previously-adorned casual wear; Chan had already begun tugging at the tight collar of his blazer.

"Sweet threads?" Changbin questioned more than answered.

"How did you know our sizes?" Han held his arms out in front of him, gaping at the soft, pink material of his suit.

"All the questions you could've asked, and that's it, Han?" Chan snapped at the younger boy, causing him to retreat back into himself.

"Look," Seungmin began, disregarding all three of their comments and questions. "I know you three aren't my biggest fans, and an eternity at my club seems overwhelming, but I just put you in sweet threads, so humor me this last pitch. For starters, isn't it nice that you're all here together?"

The question was mainly directed at Changbin, as he Chan, and Han looked at each other, their gazes filled with uncertainty; Seungmin had definitely been listening to their prior conversation. Despite the intrusion, the idea of sticking together was tempting.

"And trust me," Seungmin continued, pointing to Han this time. "Everything you want, including Minho, is here." Han looked at the ground in order to avoid looking at Seungmin; thus, the magician shifted his focus to Chan.

"And on my stage," he remarked as he approached the guitarist, "you don't vanish when the music stops. You soak in the applause for as long as you want. The connection that you will feel with that audience will feel like no other. I promise."

Seungmin's hands adjusted Chan's bowtie from where he had tugged at the irritating material, before they moved to Chan's shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly. Undeniably, Seungmin was playing to their hearts' desires, from Changbin's want to stay with his friends, Han's yearn for Minho, and Chan wanting people to feel his music rather than just hear it.

The temptation was becoming overwhelming; however, they could not harp on in for too long as suddenly, a wave of applause came over the club.

"Do you hear that, boys?" Seungmin asked smugly. "Those cheers are for you. They're waiting for you!"

Before they could answer, the phantoms jolted once more, clutching their chests and making Seungmin wince.

"Yeah, that one did look like it hurt," he commented, quickly shrugging the matter off. "Now, let me remind you that you don't know if playing the Orpheum is your unfinished business. Do you really have time to make that mistake?"

The phantoms stood in silence, watching as Seungmin strutted through the sparkly curtain nearby and onto the stage, entertaining the croud as he belted out some form of melody. As he performed, he shot glances at the three, only increasing their wants that Seungmin had so designatingly played to.

They observed Seungmin in stunned awe, his voice singing a melody so enchanting it seemed to pierce straight through to their souls. Before they could comprehend the weight of the circumstance, an inexplicable force took hold. Their feet began tapping to the rhythm, first hesitantly, then with an eerie synchronicity, They exchanged horrified glances, watching themselves succumb to the haunting pull of Seungmin's song.

Before they could fully grasp the chaos unfolding, Han's fingers instinctively began twirling a drumstick with an almost hypnotic rhythm, the motion effortless and precise. In the next moments, Han had vanished. When Chan and Changbin caught up to him, he was perched on Seungmin's stage, entirely absorbed in drumming along to the beat.

"Han!" Seungmin yelled out on stage. "Show me what you got!"

Mere seconds later, Changbin held up his bass, looking at the instrument purely terrified before he too warped onstage; his fingers plucked against the strings absentmindedly, as if he already knew the melody of the song by heart. His body swayed to the rhythm, but his face still had a look of pure horror etched onto it.

"Changbin!" Seungmin called next. "Sing it baby!"

Chan, watching the supernatural actions of his bandmates, held back as much as he could, even when Seungmin had motioned to him afterwards. He threw his guitar in the air, his body unintentionally following Seungmin's footsteps no matter how hard he shook his head or tried to step backwards. Eventually, he was fully on stage, scaredly looking at the audience as he, Changbin, and Han played the cursed, entrapping melody. They were fearful, worried that they had missed their shot at escape.

Yet, moments after the song had ended and as Seungmin took a cocky bow, the three had vanished...

---

"Hey, yn. It's time to go on!"

The stage manager knocked at your door, interrupting your anxious pacing. Flynn watched as you lost yourself in worried thoughts, every scenario as to where the phantoms could be consuming your mind.

"Just a second!" you yelled out, attempting to mask the crack in your voice. You walked over to Flynn, eyeing her with a nervous bewilderment.

"I think something's wrong," you told her, your arms wrapping around your middle as if to soothe the unease in your gut. "The guys were getting those jolts pretty bad as I was leaving, and there's no way they would stand me up again...I think they ran out of time."

Flynn took in a deep breath, her eyes widening slightly in dejected shock.

"I'm so sorry, y/n," she apologized, standing up to grip your shoulders lightly.

"They didn't get to cross over," you sorrowfully convinced yourself. "They're just gone, and I didn't get to say goodbye."

Flynn did not think twice before wrapping you in a tight embrace, allowing you space to let out your tears; however, the moment was brief, as the stage manager knocked on the door once again. The mere sound was enough to have you running away from Flynn, despite her pleas, and out of the backstage room, past the manager and outside into the alleyway of Sunset Boulevard.

You stood in the middle of the walkway, throwing your hands down as you sobbed. You looked up at the sky, your voice thick with hurt.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Mom," you began, sniffling through your speech, "but I can't handle this. Flynn says that you're behind everything, but I don't know! If I was supposed to help the guys, I didn't. They're gone, Mom, and I am so sorry. They were my friends. My band. My family. And I loved them."

You paused for a moment, your heart breaking with every word.

"Especially Chan," you continued hesitantly. "Mom, he was so amazing. He knew me like you did, and I really, really grew attached to him. I can't even believe I'm admitting I love a ghost, but...Why can't you just come pick me up, and hold me in your arms and tell me everything's okay and that I'm gonna get through it?! And that even though the phantoms aren't with me, they're in Heaven with you."

You fell to your knees, burying your face in your hands as you loudly sobbed. The weight of everything overwhelmed you; it was not just the boys anymore. It was the boys, plus the loss of your mother, plus the intensity of the night; you were supposed to help them, and you could not. Thus, you lost out on two amazing best friends and one incredible lover.

A woman passed by you, analyzing your sorrowful stance. She looked at you, nothing short of empathy within her gaze, and handed you a flower, patting your shoulder lovingly. The flower was a Dahlia.

Your mom's favorite.

You looked at it for a moment before clutching it to your chest, hugging it tightly. It was then you realized: maybe your mom was behind everything, and maybe you had lost the boys, but one thing was for certain.

You had found yourself.

With this revelation, you ran back inside, determined to not smear the reputation you had built for yourself. You swung the doors open as the stage manager was yelling something about Panic going on now. You held up the floor, looking at Flynn with a newfound optimism.

"Signs," you breathed out, mirroring her words from two nights prior and causing her to smile brightly at you.

Walking onto the stage felt like wading through a thick fog, each step deliberate and heavy with anticipation. The soles of your shoes tapped softly against the polished floor, the sound swallowed by the buzz of the expectant crowd. Your gaze swept over the sea of faces illuminated by soft, golden lights, the murmur of excitement cresting into a wave of cheers as the intercom boomed your band’s name. Applause erupted, thunderous and alive, reverberating through your chest as you approached the sleek, black piano waiting for you. A deep breath escaped your lips as you eased onto the bench, fingers trembling slightly as they placed the delicate Dahlia on the edge of the keyboard, its vibrant petals a stark contrast against the dark surface. Clutching the cool metal of the microphone, you steadied yourself and began to speak, your voice laced with a mix of nervousness and resolve.

"Hi, I'm y/n," you shakily introduced yourself as you scanned the crowd; your eyes landed on your dad, who looked more proud than words could describe. You kept your focus on him as you continued: "I'd like to dedicate this song to my mom, tonight. She may be gone, but she has been there every time I have played. I want to thank her for not giving up on me...I'd also like to dedicate tonight's performance to three special friends, who have changed my life completely. They brought music back to me, and I cannot thank them enough for that. This song is for anyone who has ever lost themselves. Don't give up, and stand tall. Thank you."

You took a deep breath as you began to play, looking to the sky briefly as if to signal to your mom for help; as you did so, a wave of peace rushed over you, and you adjusted your microphone while stroking each key in melody.

"Don't blink No, I don't want to miss it One thing, and it's back to the beginning 'Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep going on never look back

The onlookers erupted into a thunderous symphony of applause as your voice carried into the chorus. A flicker of transformation crossed your face—melancholy giving way to a spark of determined excitement, your eyes alight with purpose as the music flowed through you.

"Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall Whatever happens, even when everything's down I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall I gotta keep on dreaming 'Cause I gotta catch that feeling Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall"

What happened next was astounding. As you finished the first chorus, you heard a whoosh! from the left of you, and as you snapped your head to the source of the noise, you were met with a squirrel-esque boy in a pink suit, smiling brightly as he rocked on his drumset.

Han.

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you mirrored the grin, your heart swelling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. Somehow, against all odds, the boys were still here. Their determination to see this performance through matched your own, unwavering and steadfast.

Seconds after Han's appearance, Changbin came in, adorned in a red blazer and tuning his bass casually as you began the second verse; you looked at him as you began, your eyes softening with gratitude.

"Right now, I'm loving every minute Hands down, can't let myself forget it, no 'Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep holding on, never look back"

Your voice crescendoed on the last lyric, a new fire coursing through you. As you started on the second prechorus, you heard a flashing sound, and as you looked to the left of the stage, you saw Chan; he had not fully materialized, however. He was flickering in and out on the stage, attempting to appear but not being able to. Han and Changbin exchanged worried glances, and absentmindedly, you began to sing louder, in hopes that maybe your voice would give him the spark to appear.

Little did you know, that is exactly what it took.

"I'm going out of my mind!"

Chan had finally mustered the strength to appear, his presence sending an electric jolt through you. Excitement bubbled over as you grabbed your microphone from its stand, your feet barely touching the stage as you bounced in exhilaration. The music swelled, your voice harmonizing with the haunting resonance of the phantoms as the second chorus soared into the air.

Amid the vibrant chaos, Chan's gaze found yours. His eyes crinkled with a warmth that matched the brightness of his smile, and he slipped seamlessly into his verses, each note carrying a quiet yet unshakable confidence. The connection between you sparked something deep, a newfound pride blooming in your chest. You felt unstoppable, striding across the stage with a radiant energy as your voice filled the venue, carrying a piece of your soul to every corner.

As the bridge approached, you made your way to the edge of the stage, Changbin following close behind; the two of you rocked the verse out as you high-fived and waved at excited fans in the venue.

"Like I'm glowing in the dark I keep on going when it's all falling apart Yeah, I know it with all my heart Oh, oh"

Chan rang out a, "Never look back!" as you and Changbin rushed back to center-stage; Han then stood up, singing a solo line in a higher, enthusiastic pitch.

"Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall."

Changbin followed after, his voice deep but exhilerating.

"Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I'ma stand tall, I'ma stand tall!"

The energy of the crowd surged as you and Changbin unleashed your soaring high-notes, their thunderous cheers reverberating through the venue. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you darted across the stage in an exaggerated, playful display, arms outstretched and fingers pointing theatrically at the sea of faces. Amid the dazzling lights, your gaze locked onto Chan, his eyes brimming with a mixture of amusement and admiration as he watched your exuberant antics. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips, and you snapped your fingers toward him, beckoning him to join you with a sharp motion, inviting him to share the spotlight for the grand finale.

He trailed behind you as you moved to the front of the stage, his gaze locked onto yours with a teasing gleam in his eyes. Every step you took seemed to pull him closer, his presence a steady, electrifying pull. When you reached the edge of the stage, you turned your back to him, letting the final lyric of the song linger in the air. The moment you spun back around, there he was—his grin widening as Han and Changbin appeared at your side, ready for the final encore, their energy matching yours as the crowd roared with excitement.

You held out your high note for longer than you were supposed to, in hopes to keep the phantoms with you for a moment or two longer. Yet, the music eventually came to an end; as such, you and the phantoms took one last painful yet exciting bow. Once you had risen up, you heard gasps from the crowd, no doubt signalling their disappearance.

For a final time, they had vanished.

---

That night, you made your way back to the studio, opening the doors solemnly as your gaze saddened. You looked to the couch, where Chan had spent all of his time writing songs with you, then to the piano, where the band had all of the meetings over what songs to play and when. You sucked in a deep breath, finding the confidence to speak to them one last time.

"I know I already said this, but uh." You looked to the sky, feeling connected with the boys once more as you took another deep inhale.

"Thank you guys."

"You're welcome."

You did not know what you were expecting, but it was not Changbin accepting your gratitude with a breathy groan, followed by Han and Changbin scoffing and sighing from frustration. Your eyes widened at hearing the boys's voices, so you ran to the lightswitch, flicking it on to see an unpleasant sight.

The boys were laying on the ground of the garage, side-by-side, coughing and groaning from agony. You felt bewildered tears seep into your eyes as you approached them. Chan's head looked up to meet you, sorrow present in his features.

"Why are you guys still here? I thought that-"

You were cut off by another sharp jolt piercing through the phantoms; this one was the worst of them all, knocking them all further down and causing them to squirm in pure pain. The sight of it all sent worry down your spine and made a feeling of pure dread settle in your heart.

"No, no!" you screamed. "Why didn't you cross over?!"

The phantoms climbed off the floor, Chan sitting himself up and Han and Changbin leaned on the edges of obscure furniture.

"Only one explanation," Han replied, his voice breathy. "Playing the Orpheum wasn't out unfinished business."

"Point Seungmin," Changbin punctuated with a groan.

"We wanted you to think we crossed over so we pretended to," Chan admitted, his eyes tearing up as he wiped at his runny nose. It was clear all three boys had been crying. "We didn't have anywhere else to go, y/n."

"Yeah, we thought you were going to go straight to bed," Changbin confessed.

"Well, I knew she was going to come out here, but no one ever listens to me." Han stood up, doubled over the piano. Another jolt rocked their bodies, causing you to run up to them.

"You have to save yourself!" you pleaded. "Go join Seungmin's club, for me, please! It's better than not existing at all!"

"No!" Changbin yelled, unintentionally. "We're not going back there."

"No music is worth making, y/n, if we aren't making it with you." Chan approached you, his lips quivering as he made dejected eye-contact with you. "No regrets."

Without a second thought, you hurled yourself into Chan’s arms, wrapping your arms around him with a desperate intensity. It was as if you needed to hold him so tightly, so completely, that there would be no chance of him slipping away, even if you clung to him forever. Your heart raced, and in the quiet of the moment, your lips trembled as you finally whispered the words you’d been aching to say all month.

"I love you, Chan."

Chan’s heart ached, a sharp pang echoing through his chest as your words hit him. The weight of them, the raw vulnerability, brought tears to his eyes, and they fell silently down his cheeks. Fear gripped him, but he clung to you just as fiercely. His arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered into the crook of your neck.

"I love you, too."

Han and Changbin watched in sorrow, Changbin's lips quirking up into a sad smile as he sobbed.

In that moment, you pulled away, realization coursing over you as you glanced up at Chan; however, something was entirely unfamiliar about the boy:

He was glowing.

Your hands ran up his forearms to his shoulders as you studied him in a dazed confusion.

"How can I feel you?" you questioned, hoping he had the answer.

"I don't know," he answered, his voice barely audible. His hands came up to cup your cheeks and yours to grip his as he continued, both of you longing for the touch you had so desperately craved from one another. "But I...I feel stronger."

Han and Changbin stood frozen, their expressions mirroring the same bewilderment that mirrored your own, eyes wide and hearts heavy with confusion. The room seemed to hold its breath as you reached out to them, your hand a silent invitation. Slowly, they moved toward you, drawn by the quiet gravity of the moment. Without a word, the three of them joined you in a single, tight embrace, pulling you into the warmth of their presence. 

Just as you had suspected, you could feel them as well, and their bodies became enveloped in the same, golden hue that Chan was. The hug lingered for moments on end before the four of you broke.

"Woah," Changbin sighed. "I don't feel weak anymore!"

"Me neither," Han added on. "Not that, y'know, I was ever that weak." The comment caused a giggle to echo in that moment of tension; suddenly, the three phantoms felt a weird sensation on their wrists, almost like a tingle. Han and Changbin rolled up the sleeves of their blazers and Chan held his sleeveless arm out.

The purple, Hollywood Ghost Club stamps on their arms floated lightly above them before disappearing entirely. All four of you looked at one another, a knowing look present in your gazes.

"I think the band's back," Chan whispered, smiling from ear-to-ear at you. Your eyes flickered to his, pride and adoration visible; before you could act, Han spoke once more.

"Can we uh...can we do that hug thing again?"

"Absolutely!" you, Chan, and Changbin happily sounded at the same time; with that the four of you enveloped into another tight hug, jumping around from excitement at the night's events.

"We played the Orpheum, guys!" you yelled, pulling away from the phantoms.

"Yeah, we did!" Chan responded, his hands gripping your shoulders with an exhilerant intent. As he gazed at you for longer, however, his demeanor shifted.

He took in the weight of being able to feel you, to caress you, and to hug you, and it made him wonder.

"Boys, you mind giving us some space?" he looked to Han and Changbin, who smirked, knowing what the boy was planning. As they walked away, he took your hands in his, smiling brightly at you.

"So we can hug," he said, "and we can hold each others faces, so I wonder-"

You did not give Chan time to finish before your lips closing the gap in between you two. His lips were warm and soft against yours, tentative at first from astoundment. The kiss was everything, from sweet to electric to gentle, carrying the passion you had felt for one another for so long.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his. Chan smiled the boyish, lopsided grin that never failed to make your heart race.

"Stole my thunder," Chan remarked cheekily, eliciting a chest swat from your end.

"Whatever," you mumbled. "So, since the band's back, can we also be back? Or, can we at least start something?" Chan responded by interlacing your fingers, a motion he felt a certain relief at finally being able to do.

"Didn't know we were ever gone, Love."

---

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[soupandsorcery]

It's impossible to track the passage of time with the never changing Fade sky outside, but Beaux's body can tell that it's very late.

They've been trying to sleep for hours, but their mind is going in circles, and there's a buzz under their skin that feels like when they're near large amounts of blight. Which is...basically all the time these days.

After tossing and turning for a few more minutes, they give up, throwing on shoes and crossing the courtyard to the dining room. It's quiet, the fire burned down low in the hearth, but they know the person they're looking for will be awake.

Even with the new agreement with Spite, Lucanis still doesn't like to let him take over for too long, and old habits die hard. So when Beaux knocks on the door to the pantry, they're prepared for the bright eyed, alert look on their partner's face.

They don't really know why they're here, or what they want to say, but when they open their mouth and, "Can I tell you a story, Lucanis?" comes out, it feels right.

Lucanis blinks, surprised "Beaux? What are you doing up so late?"

"There's...a lot on my mind." They shrug. It's an understatement.

"I suppose it was a stupid question. Come, sit. I will make drinks."

The two of them step into the dining room proper, and Beaux drops gratefully into a chair. They're still aching from a fight with a seemingly never ending wave of darkspawn the other day. "No coffee for me, please."

"I know what you like." Lucanis smiles briefly and gets to work. "What story do you wish to tell me?"

"I guess it's not really a story, since it actually happened, but. I just feel like talking about it might help you. Or me. Or both of us. Or neither of us and it'll just be a waste of time."

"No time spent with you is wasted, Beaux. Tell me your story."

Beaux drags in a deep breath and begins. "Okay. So, when I was twelve or thirteen, my parents died. They were killed when bandits attacked their caravan. The bodyguard they'd hired was either just really bad at his job or in on the whole thing, because he was found a couple miles away from their camp with a knife in his back and his pockets full of gold."

"Mierda. I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago. And not really the point, I guess. After they died, I got shuffled around the family. A lot. My grandmother didn't really want me, but she let me stay for a year. I went to some cousins after that for six months, and it was the same story. I never stayed anywhere longer than a year, until my aunt and uncle took me in." They trace the wood grain in the table, trying to focus on that and not what they're saying. "And they were different. They wanted me. They're merchants too, and they let me come along and guard their caravans when they would travel. They took my ideas about making things safer. For the first time since my parents died, I felt like I had a family again."

"I am guessing that didn't last," Lucanis says quietly as he stirs.

Beaux shakes their head. "No. We did a job moving merchandise that was going to a market in Tevinter. I was eighteen, and they had me in charge of protecting them--and the merchandise." They know their voice is bitter as they talk, but they can't help it. This part still hurts. "I think they liked me because I didn't ask questions. They told me to keep my hands off the merchandise and my eyes on the road, and I did that. I always did that. Until something in the wagon coughed."

Lucanis frowns, looking up. "...coughed? Oh."

"Yep. It was people. They were smuggling people into Tevinter to sell them into slavery, and I." They take a deep breath. "I lost it, a bit. Well. More than a bit. I let all those people go in the middle of the night and told my aunt and uncle I never wanted to see or speak to them again. But I wanted to do more. I wanted to make sure they felt the pain I was feeling."

"You loved them," Lucanis says. "And they betrayed your trust."

"Yes. I know it's not as extreme as what Illario did to you, but..."

"It isn't a contest, Beaux. Being betrayed by the only people you love is..." He shakes his head. "You know the pain of it. The anger of it."

Beaux nods. "I do. And when you found out that it was Illario who betrayed you, I knew what you must have been feeling. That's why I suggested you beat him up. I mean, he deserves it, but I wasn't exactly unbiased in it."

"Spite appreciated the suggestion, at least," Lucanis says ruefully.

"I don't know if that's a good thing. I guess I just wanted you to know that you're not alone. That I understand what it feels like when the only family you have left hurts you so deeply it feels like you can never forgive them. And I'm not saying you have to be like me and cut Illario off completely. I had to do that for my own...peace of mind, I guess. But your choices are your own, and I'll support them."

Lucanis comes over with two steaming cups. One smells like him, the rich aroma of coffee, and the other smells sweet and warm. Beaux's favorite. He puts both cups on the table and leans down to kiss the top of Beaux's head.

"Thank you. I have not decided what to do yet, but. Something will be done. And if you would like to have something done about your aunt and uncle...well. For you, no charge."

Beaux laughs, and they feel lighter. "I'll keep that in mind." They take a sip of the hot chocolate and sigh softly with pleasure. "Thank you, Lucanis."

"It is my pleasure. And thank you, for sharing your story with me. It does help to know that I am not alone, and if someone like you can suffer this pain and emerge from it so good and kind and beautiful, then there is hope for me."

"Stop that."

"What? I am only telling the truth. You are the best person I know, Beaux Thorne. And if you take exception to me calling you beautiful, then I am going to have to buy you a mirror next time we go to the market."

"Lucanis."

"Spite agrees with me. You can't argue with us both."

Beaux sticks their tongue out at him, and then smiles when Lucanis chases it back into their mouth with a kiss. It tastes like chocolate and coffee, and it's a combination they could easily see themself getting used to.

[strawberryblue-blog]

heyy girlyy idk if you're doing requests or not but, it's been a really rough time for me these past few days, i have exams going on plus some issues with my mental health so i was wondering if you could write like a short and quick pedri comfort fic where he takes care and consoles a very sad and stressed reader, love you lot's, take caree! 💌💕

Comfort boy —Pedri.

request: yes.

warnings: none. mental issues, anxiety, stress.

words: +1k

#SEXYNOTE: thanks for the request i am really going through something similar and writing this felt so good. anonymous person i hope you like it and are taking care of yourself, you can handle anything. love you 🩵

Your leg moved unconsciously in response to your anxiety as you bit your parched lips. Your eyes followed the lines of text as you read the report over and over but there was something that didn't feel right. Something was missing.

Your fingers trembled as you grabbed the pen to continue writing what was supposed to be your semi-annual report of your fieldwork. You had been at it for at least a week and hadn't even left the house to finish it perfectly. After class, you would go home and sit down with your work.

College was killing you these days and you couldn't worry about anything else but this. You didn't even know what day it was exactly because you hadn't slept properly for at least 24 hours.

"Y/n?" you heard in the distance. "Baby" he yelled a little loudly when you didn't answer.

Your eyes saw your boyfriend walk through the door of your apartment, seeing him coming as you lifted your head from your sheets.

"Pedri?" you asked in confusion. The young man was walking into your house smiling, when he finally had your attention. You blinked in surprise and somewhat exhausted but happy to see him again. You hadn't heard him, so you assumed he had used the key you had given him for emergencies.

"I knocked on the door but you didn't answer" he approached and you could see his hands busy with grocery bags.

Your tired eyes saw him come to you and kiss your forehead softly.

"I brought you this" he pointed to the bags. "I thought you might need it" he finished saying heading towards the kitchen.

You got up from your place following him to help him. You tried to take them to help him but Pedri denied.

"I'll do it, don't worry" he emitted and you pouted, leaving him.

"No need, honey" you said hugging him from behind as he finished unpacking the bags with merchandise.

When your face touched his back, your body relaxed completely, you felt his touch so warm that your anxiety and stress suddenly vanished. Many emotions were going through your mind right now, you were restless, feeling the pain in your legs from sitting for so long. Or the burning in your eyes from being focused on your homework. Even her back creaked as you stretched towards Pedri.

"You need rest, little bear," he turned to hug your body. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you.

You had missed him so much these endless days you had had. Pedri was like the light of your days and he knew exactly how to comfort you on these days.

"Do you want me to fix you something to eat?" he asked slowly when he saw you on his chest.

You shook a little. Even though your feeding had consisted of black coffee these past few hours, you weren't that hungry.

"Can we go rest?" you whispered as your body felt numb. You looked up and Pedri saw you stroking your back.

"Of course we can, baby" he smiled as you brought your mouth close to his. You joined his lips quickly, circling his neck when his hands took your legs to lift you into his arms.

He walked you to the bedroom, where he laid you gently on the bed, removed your slippers and left the quilt over your body. He took off his clothes and lay down next to you.

Again, his arms wrapped around you taking you completely against his body. Calm invaded your mind as his fingers caressed your lower back, relaxing you. Thoughts were gone, you were even willing to sleep for hours with his presence.

"You're doing great, Y/n" he whispered and his fingers caressed the sides of your face. "You can handle anything, I trust you" he said making you feel your eyes sting with tears.

These last few days had been really hard for you and despite not having seen him that much, not even having had time to call him, just quick messages, Pedri was still here by your side.

You were sure that thanks to him you could go on with everything. Because Pedri took care of you when you didn't, he loved you and didn't leave you despite your problems.

"I can because you are here with me" you told him when a tear fell. He wiped it away himself, smiling at you.

"I love you so much" his forehead caressed yours.

"I love you too, Pedri"

[the1975attheirverybest]

Real Life – Chapter 2: The First Date

I AM VERY VERY RUSTY AND THIS IS MESS BUT WE GOTTA START SOMEWHERE.

Read chapter 1 here

See character list here

more tidbits under the tag #real life fic or #matty x claire

Matty’s bloodshot eyes caught his own reflection in the glass display of the store in front of him. He turned around to face away from it, recoiling from the truth of his appearance. The silence in the air was deafening. It pained him to walk around his old haunts and see “for sale” signs where booming businesses once existed. Luckily, the pounding headache brought on by his hangover prevented him from dwelling too long on the grim reality. He flinched when he felt a drop of water against his neck, slapping it, annoyed. Moments later, he felt another drop, this time straight to his head. 

“Fucks sakes.” He glanced up, realizing that rainfall was imminent. The news of rain wasn’t as bad as its consequence: he now had to face the choice that he’d been putting off all afternoon. He needed to decide whether to go home, or to find a place to kill a few more hours in; a cafe perhaps, or someplace to at least buy an umbrella. 

Groaning, he lifted the collar of his jacket to shelter under it and rushed into the first open business that he could spot out of the corner of his eye.

“Good afternoon, hello!” A young person, with bright blue hair and a nose piercing greeted Matty from behind the register. Their name tag read “Shay.”  He was at a bookstore.

Matty nodded, awkwardly, giving Shay an obligatory wave as he stumbled his way in. 

“Can I help you find anything?” Shay asked. 

“Erm….this is quite….is it offensive to come into a bookstore and ask for non-book related items?” He shrugged "feels sort of...offensive."

“Pardon?”

“Looking for an umbrella.” Matty cleared his throat. “If….that’s alright.”

“Oh! Not a problem. Our merchandise is right over there.”

Shay had pointed him in the right direction, but Matty had already gotten distracted by a clever book title and wandered off. 

“No, sir! To your left." there was no use in calling after him, he’d already trailed off, gravitating towards a sign by the stairs, and, eventually, descending the stairs into the special events area.

Shay dreaded having to let him walk right into an author's reading.

***

A woman stood behind a lectern, looking down at the book in front of her, reading aloud. 

The next time he sees her is the last time. She’s standing across the room with a bunch of important men in suits, a lipstick-stained cigarette between her fingers. He can't help but notice how the men hang on her every word. He thinks about going up to her but chooses not to. Maybe if he'd chosen differently that night, his final memory of her could've been different. Maybe he would've remembered a different woman than the one who had flashed into his mind upon reading of her death, but for better or for worse, he blinks, and she's gone.

"Thank you," Claire smiled, graceful, at her captive audience.

Matty recognized her smile as the same one she gave her audience that night at the charity event, right after her speech, moments before she'd disappeared into the ether. Quietly, he found a seat in the back row of the packed room and shuffled into it.

"That was...wow." the host, a critic of some sort, whose name Matty had clocked on the sign upstairs but had already forgotten, motioned, breathlessly, for Claire to come back to her seat. "Thank you for sharing that with us....So, I'm glad you chose to read the ending because it has sparked quite the conversation among readers." The host glanced at her notes, "I wanted to ask you, did you always know you were going to end the book this way?"

****

Matty could see her more clearly now that attendees began to empty their seats and form a line for the signing. I remained in his chair, watching her, wondering if he should go up to her. What would he even say? 'hi, remember me? you invited me to your event and i as rude to you.'

He walked around the edges of the room, scanning the shelves, absorbing the conversations around him, and eying her book. He picked up, leafing through it, and eventually settling into a corner to read.

When he finally looked up from the book again, the crowd had mostly thinned out. It was still raining outside and he was still without an umbrella. across the room, he saw Claire leave the signing table.

“Claire!” Jazmyn squeezed her elbow to get her attention, pulling her towards a woman with a press badge. “This is Raven Burner.”  Jazmyn offered a preemptively apologetic smile. "Raven, this is Claire."

“Hi! I’m with People Magazine. I was wondering if you had time for just a few quick questions? Big fan of your-“

“People Magazine?!” Claire’s voice revealed a little too much of her feelings towards the publication. She hadn’t intended to be so rude, but she knew that they were after more than just her writing process, or details about her next project. Her eyes darted around the room in avoidance, looking for an escape plan. Among the sea of faces, stacks of books, her eyes locked on someone else’s. Big, brown eyes, that pierced through her. 

Matty stepped forward. “Erm, Claire? S-sorry to interrupt but…our reservations.”

“Reservations?” she echoed him faintly.

Jazmyn eyed them, suspiciously. 

“Yes!” Matty insisted. “For our date. That we’re going on. right now.” He made a show of checking the time. “We really should get going. If we don’t want to be late. I know how much you love their dessert.”

“Oh.” Claire sighed, “oh! Right! Yes, of- of course. Our- date.”

He offered her his arm and she accepted. “Excuse us. Thanks.”

***

"Thank you." Claire unhooked her arm from his once they were outside. "You didn't have to do that."

Matty smiled, "felt like I owed it to you." he unwrapped his brand new umbrella. "I'm-"

"Matt Healy, I know."

His brows scrunched.

"Or, as I like to call you, Robin Hood."

Matty rolled his eyes. "You remember me then?"

"Rich guy who hates rich people. I tend to remember people who talk shit about me at my own events." she giggled

"It's Matty, by the way, if we're being accurate." He opened the umbrella. "And, I'm sorry about the Robin Hood thing. I...had no idea who you were, and....I tried to find you after the- umm...anyway, I'm sorry."

"Relax, you look like you're gonna sweat through your coat. I'm just messing. It's all good. I have buckets of money what do I care, right?" The blank expression on his face made her laugh harder. "oh, unclench your ass, it's just a joke."

She inched closer to shelter under his umbrella as they stood on the sidewalk. He lit a cigarette and she asked to bum one off him. She was a firm believer that cigs tasted better in the rain somehow.

“It’s quite good.” Matty said as he squashed the end of his cigarette on the concrete. “Your book, I mean. I’m only a few pages in, but I like it so far. 

“You sound surprised.”

“Not surprised….just….” 

She made him nervous and he hated it.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the cold beginning to get to her. "Anyway, thanks for the cig. Oh, and, thanks for umm...." she nodded in the direction of the bookstore. "these vultures, they won't stop prying about my...." she seemed to get lost in her thoughts as she watched the journalists, inside, surround her publicist. She snapped out of it, turning her attention back to Matty. "Anyway, nice to see you again, Matty."

"Erm...no, wait!" he blurted out as she turned to walk away. "Our date! we have reservations"

she furrowed. "They're not real. I thought...."

"They can be. I know a place not too far from here. You like Italian?"

[burningfairytales]

In honour of our favourite ace’s birthday, lemme dump this bit of unedited writing on you.

Happy Birthday, Bokuto!

EDIT: Now also on AO3!

They make it through the first two rounds of the Interhigh Qualifiers with ease.

Really, it’s almost too easily. Konoha is expecting something to go wrong at literally any moment.

They’re the last ones on the morning of their second day, because Bokuto insisted on checking the merchandise stand before their first match, and even though he’d whined and asked Akaashi to join him, their vice-captain had insisted that at least one of them should be with the team, and had trusted Konoha to “reign him in before he spends too much money, Konoha-san. Thank you for your hard work.”

He’s prepared to drag Bokuto to the arena kicking and screaming, which it turns out he doesn’t have to, because Bokuto is actually excited for their match, and goes willingly with one more t-shirt and two matching keychains in his hand.

(The t-shirt, of course, is as ridiculous as any he’s ever bought, with the English words ‘POWER UP’ in big bold letters on its front. The keychains are of Vabo-chan, which fine, Konoha understands, but does Bokuto really need two?)

The other shoe drops when they’re making their way down the hall and towards the arena, and really, Konoha’s been waiting for it to happen - it’s just that he’s been expecting Bokuto to go all depressed over something small again, something laughable, something to joke about with the others, maybe tease Bokuto about afterwards.

He’s not expecting to come across two players from the team they’re about to face, standing a few metres away and talking, loudly, about Fukurodani.

Or rather, their captain.

“Have you seen their captain, though? Doesn’t he feel a bit… useless?”

He isn’t expecting the way Bokuto freezes for a moment, the way his shoulders slump imperceptibly, how he seems to shrink in on himself.

“I know! He looks strong and all, but I heard he sometimes messes up the simplest of plays.”

A chuckle.

“Maybe the team would be better off without him.”

The hallway is quiet when they leave, and Konoha glances at Bokuto from the corner of his eye. And it looks a bit like someone had poured salt into an open wound or found a bruise to poke at, the way Bokuto presses his lips together, wincing at a phantom pain, like his heart is bleeding.

“Hey, Owlhead,” Konoha starts. “You know they’re just talking sh-”

“Konoha,” Bokuto interrupts, straightening. Throws him a brittle smile, his lip quivering. It’s the saddest goddamn thing Konoha has ever seen. “I’m going on ahead, okay? Akaashi was right, I should have stayed with the team. Gotta warm up and all!”

His laugh lacks all his usual enthusiasm, and he turns, making his way towards the arena.

Konoha watches him go, watches the bow of his head, the downward pull of his shoulders as if he’s carrying something heavy.

Bokuto is ridiculous. He’s too enthusiastic, gets discouraged too easily. He’s simpleminded, and a bit of an airhead, and Konoha teases him for it often - but Bokuto is his teammate. Konoha knows he can joke about it because the things he says aren’t one hundred percent true, and he’s not always one hundred percent serious.

He can joke about it because he knows that Bokuto knows that.

But that just now, that was something else.

Konoha clenches his fist. He turns on his heel, following the other two players in the direction of the bathroom. Anger tightens his chest, sizzles in his gut, hot and dizzying.

“Hey, you!” He calls, when he catches up with them. “I heard you talking shit about our captain!”

The two of them look at each other and then at him. One of the two shrugs, unimpressed.

“So?” He asks. He’s the taller of the two, probably taller than Konoha. “He just seems like a bit of an idiot.”

Konoha grits his teeth. How dare they?

How dare they?

He’s in front of them before his brain even registers the movement, grabbing the taller one’s collar and shoving him against the wall.

“You don’t talk about him that way,” he grits out. “You don’t know him.”

“H-hey,” the shorter one says, his voice suddenly small. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not like we were talking about you.”

But it is personal. It is personal in a way Konoha doesn’t deign to explain because they have no idea how their team works. They don’t know half the stupid shit Bokuto pulls, or the way he’s there for his team when one of them needs him. They don’t know that he keeps stealing their food when they go out to eat, or the ongoing prank war with Nekoma High that Bokuto puts all his effort into winning. They don’t know how he makes sure they all know that it’s not their fault when they lose a match. They don’t know how he pushes them - encourages them to try harder, give it their all.

They don’t know shit.

He considers, for a moment, the consequences of punching one of them, just for the sake of it. Considers if it’s worth the suspension that’s likely to come his way. But just as he decides he’ll just have to risk it, a voice stops him.

“Konoha-san.” Akaashi stands at the end of the hallway. His back is straight, his hands hang loosely at his side. “We’re waiting for you.” His voice is quiet; calculated. “Let’s join the others, shall we?”

With a long exhale, Konoha lets go. Takes a final look at the two and almost laughs at the relief on their faces, because really, they have no idea.

That Akaashi’s calm demeanour shouldn’t at all be reassuring to them - that the fact he keeps his hands at his side betrays his anger, because it’s likely a conscious decision, or else he would be fiddling his fingers. That his quiet is the lethal kind.

Akaashi probably took one look at Bokuto’s deflated form, came to find Konoha two seconds away from throwing punches, and most likely realised exactly what must have happened.

They don’t know that their calm, collected vice-captain doesn’t get angry - he gets even.

“You don’t know us,” Konoha repeats, this time with a smirk. “But you’re about to.”

***

He tells the others what happened while Akaashi is off in the corner warming up with Bokuto - speaking to him most likely, while doing the thing that never fails to cheer him up: spiking Akaashi’s tosses.

Komi glares daggers over the net, looking just as ready as Konoha to drag them out of the arena and settle things off-cours. Washio frowns, and Onaga keeps sneaking worried glances at their captain. Saru’s mouth is drawn downwards in an unhappy line.

Their collective anger isn’t surprising, of course. Bokuto is their teammate, too.

“Let’s show them what we’ve got,” Komi says, a fist in the air. “They won’t get away with this.”

“I have an idea.” Akaashi’s voice is quiet as he approaches, like the subtle cracking of ice before an avalanche. “It’s a bit unorthodox.”

Behind them, Bokuto is talking to their coach, but he seems at least in somewhat higher spirits than before. Konoha wonders what it would be like, to have whatever these two have going on. To know and understand each other so completely.

“Let’s hear it!” Komi says.

“It might be a bit difficult to pull off,” Akaashi says slowly, “And it certainly won’t be very nice.”

Konoha laughs. “Akaashi, haven’t you heard? We’re not very nice people.”

***

Unorthodox is a good word to describe Akaashi’s sets - none of them could be considered textbook, which makes them anything but predictable.

He dumps the ball over the net not once, but twice, sets the ball to Konoha even though the blockers are on his side, and throws him a look that clearly says, I expect you to get around that.

Konoha snorts as he jumps. No pressure or anything.

Luckily, the blockers apparently aren’t expecting that bold a move either, because they’d already taken a few steps to the other side of the net, and are scrambled to get back into position just a second too late.

He scores, and laughs at the sheer audacity.

Most notably, Akaashi lets Bokuto spike however he seems to want to, even though he would normally try to reign him in - there’s a particularly bold backrow set that Konoha has to admit is actually kind of impressive. Not that he’s about to say that out loud.

(“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi calls between sets, “You haven’t used a single feint this tournament. Not today or yesterday.”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess? Do you think I should?”

“I think,” Akaashi says, and his smile is lethal, “I think it might be fun.”

Konoha shudders. He really, really doesn’t want to get on Akaashi’s bad side.)

By the end of the second set, Bokuto is back to his old self, laughing and whooping with every scored point.

He does use a feint then, cheerfully tips the ball over the blocker’s hands, punches the air in victory with an emphatic, “hey, hey, hey!” when it hits the floor on the other side of the net.

Konoha catches the smile on Akaashi’s lips as he watches Bokuto - warm and proud and so full of something else, something big and overwhelming that it catches Konoha off-guard. But before he can blink, Akaashi has already schooled his features into careful indifference, turning back towards the net.

Oh, Konoha thinks, as the puzzle pieces fall into place.

Oh.

***

It’s probably the most unconventional they’ve ever played - definitely the most risky, and, dare he say - the most fun, too. He’s sure Coach Yamiji will have words with them later, but for now, Konoha doesn’t care.

They didn’t just win - to put it in Bokuto’s terms, they crushed their opponents.

***

“Konoha!” Bokuto throws an arm around him, and Konoha allows it, just this once. “Let’s go get Yakiniku tonight, to celebrate, okay?”

“Sure.” Konoha shrugs. “As long as you’re paying, Captain.”

“Eh! Uh. Hmm….” Several emotions flit over Bokuto’s face. “Okay, yeah. Sure. We deserve it. Yeah!”

And then he bounces off. “Akaashi!” He calls, “Help me pay for Yakiniku later!”

With the advantage of hindsight, Konoha supposes it’s obvious. He watches how Akaashi’s focus shifts the second he hears Bokuto call for him. How his entire body turns in the direction of his voice before he’s even finished what he’s doing, like it doesn’t have a choice but to move, the pull of Bokuto commanding its movement like some sort of gravitational force.

He sees how Akaashi’s entire demeanour changes - it’s nothing obvious, nothing someone not from Fukurodani would even notice. But Konoha, like everyone else on the team, is practised in the art of recognising their setter’s subtle shifts, and so he sees:

The small, upward quirk of his lips, his open posture, how he reaches out and lightly touches Bokuto’s wrist with two fingers - Akaashi, who never initiates any physical contact with anyone.

Everything about him becomes softer the second he lays eyes on Bokuto. The same way, Konoha supposes, reviewing these past two years in his head, the same way Bokuto is softer around Akaashi than with anyone else on the team as well.

How did it take him this long to notice, he wonders, when it’s right there, written plainly on Bokuto’s face, and in the curve of Akaashi’s shoulders.

***

On the bus ride home, Bokuto stops at nothing to point out how amazing they were today. He mentions almost every one of Saru’s spikes and Washio’s blocks, compliments Komi on his receives and recreates Konoha’s plays with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic flourish.

It’s completely ridiculous, in the way Bokuto always is, and Konoha feels his own chest with pride anyway. Komi high-fives Saru, and Onaga chuckles behind them.

Next to Bokuto, Akaashi catches Konoha’s eye and gives a subtle nod. Konoha smirks.

And this - this is why their team isn’t better off without Bokuto - not that Konoha is ever about to tell him that. Because Bokuto always tries his hardest, whether it’s during a game or off-court, whether it’s about volleyball or lifting their spirits. Because he reminds them of their strengths and still dares them to do better.

Because he is theirs, for better or for worse, and they will always, always rally behind him.

[8myass]

nct 2023 yandere headcannons ♡

genre. angst, some are smutty/suggestive, fluff? (not much) cw. yandere!nct + sungchan + shotaro pairing. nct x female reader

✩ ​JAEMIN ✩ tw. gaslighting, mind games/manipulation wc. 0.2k

Jaemin would be the best yandere, honestly. He’s not necessarily crazy to the fullest extent of what a yandere “typically” is, but he would get obsessively in love when he loves. He would write you love notes and show up at your house with flowers when you didn’t even know you gave him your address. You didn’t, you never gave it to him, but he’d be such a good sweet talker that you’d be convinced you’re just not remembering the events correctly and go about your life without bothering to think about how you could’ve completely blurred out an entire memory. But he’d never lie to you, he seems like such a nice guy. I mean, he buys you everything you’ve ever wanted, why would he lie to you? He would buy you your favorite candies, band merchandise, books, everything you’d ever want, he’d know what you like without even trying. But every time you’d ask him how he knows so much about you, having not known you for long enough that you’d tell him anything like that, he would just brush it off and claim you did tell him, you’re just not remembering it right. Everything with him would just be a game, you’d never expect what he’d come up with next, but it’d always leave you confused and questioning the truth, yet he’d always reassure you. Because, again, how could he ever lie to you? All he wants to do is spoil you, he’s just a sweet guy, right?

✩ HAECHAN ✩ tw. bullying, mind games/manipulation, gaslighting wc. 97 (idk why hyuck’s is so short omg 😭)

Haechan would be the type of yandere to bully you into loving him. I mean, he’d go to great lengths to make you feel vulnerable, sensitive, weak, embarrassed even. He’d want you to think of him as your savior. Sure, he’s the one doing it to you, but you’d never hold it against him. He doesn’t mean it after all – that’s what he tells you. And you’re too naively alone to think the only person who wants to associate themselves with you anymore could be the whole reason your life has been ruined in the first place.

✩ LUCAS ✩ tw. cursing, implied kidnapping, crying, implied inflicting pain on reader, possessiveness wc. 0.2k

Lucas would be such a BAD yandere. Literally, he could never hurt anyone, but he could love excessively. Maybe his love would come off as a little suffocating. He doesn’t mean for it to be like that. He just can’t help but love someone as amazing as you so much that it hurts both of you. Like I said, he’d be such a bad yandere, he’s violent but it’s not by choice. You just wanna keep running away from him and it drives him crazy. Who is that new guy you’ve been talking to? Why do you think he’s so much better than him? Why is it that you’ve been ignoring him for this new toy? This asshole is just a shiny object, he’s your soulmate, your one and only, why can’t you see that? It’s not his fault he has to hide you from the rest of the world to keep you from returning to anyone else who isn’t him. He didn’t wanna do this either and each time you cry, he cries. You’re his love and he regrets everything he’s done to hurt you, but yet he won’t stop because you’re his and you need to know that you’re his. 

✩ HENDERY ✩ tw. stalking, stealing reader’s things wc. 0.1k

Hendery is also not the best yandere. He doesn’t really understand what’s happening to him. His body reacts differently when you’re around, his heart flutters out of his chest every time you say his name. You two aren’t close, you just know him as a friend of a friend and only really see him at parties or in class or sometimes at lunch, but he’s always there, always. He can’t help it, he just wants to be around you all the time so he lets himself follow you. It’s probably not the smartest or most honest thing he could be doing, why not go up and talk to you like a normal person? He’s not shy or antisocial, but you’re just different. He doesn’t wanna embarrass himself around you, even when you laugh at his jokes he can’t help but think that you’re laughing at him instead. What if you’re judging him? Are you laughing with him or at him? Would you still find him funny if you realized he’d stolen your dirty sports bra from your gym locker just so he could always be close to you? 

✩ TAEYONG ✩ tw. victim blaming, gaslighting, cursing, degrading wc. 0.2k

Taeyong would be super caring, taking care of your every need like that’s what he was born to do. However, he couldn’t help but be frustrated when you admitted you only saw him as a brotherly figure in your life after he confessed to you. He poured his heart out to you after everything he’s done for you and all you do is reject him? That broke him, you broke him. Do you know how annoying it was to come over to your house every morning and make you breakfast when you were fully capable of doing it yourself? What about how aggravating it was to be expected to drive you to school every day and watch as you walked over to that boy toy of yours, seeing him hanging all over you in your slutty schoolgirl clothes? And when you prance around in his presence in just a t-shirt and underwear, do you understand how hard it was to control his urges then?? You have no clue what he has had to go through just to get you in this position, confessing to you and telling you how much he adores you. Now, all you give him is heartbreak. Well, now it’s your time to be broken. After all the suffering he’s gone through, now it’s finally your turn.

✩ TEN ✩ tw. slight stalking, gaslighting, mind games/manipulation, cursing, implied sex w/ reader’s friends, sadistic ten wc. 0.2k

Ten would be the kind of yandere that would love the chase – the chase is better than anything that comes after. He wants you to play hard to get, so he’ll play as the greatest example of a person you would despise the most. Don’t worry, he’s done his research. You hate everything that he is, just as he had planned. He’s a manwhore, flipping through women like they mean absolutely nothing to him because they don’t. He’d flirt with you and try his “manipulation games” on you, all of which you can see through just as he wants you to and it makes you even more repulsed by him. In the end, you’d wind up hating him more than anything in this world. He’d hit on your friends and they’d easily fall for his games, letting him take advantage of them, only to get even deeper under your skin, targeting even closer to home this time. You would confront him about it, tell him to leave you and your friends alone because none of you want anything to do with him. He would savor every moment of your anger and rage, wallowing in the misery that he’s surrounded you with. He loves this, seeing you so distressed, pleading with him to leave you alone. It’s not that easy, though. You’re like a fly caught in a spider’s web. Sadly, you haven’t realized that once he set his eyes on you, your life was in his hands.

✩ JENO ✩ tw. cursing, mentions manipulation (no one is actually manipulated), implied stalking, pictures being taken w/o reader’s permission, possessiveness wc. 0.2k

Jeno would always come off as cold, but that’s not how he is with you. He’s an absolute asshole to everyone else, but you’re just the only one he likes. You’d be his safe place, the person he can confide in and talk to and the only one he can be vulnerable around, let his true self show. You’re intelligent, you’d see through any game he tried to play if he wanted to manipulate you like that. He never would, he likes you exactly how you are and he only prays that you feel the same about him. But, goddamn, would he have one hell of a collection of your pictures decorating every room in his house. Most of them would be pictures you didn’t know he took, others would be pictures you willingly allowed him to take, thinking all he’d do was keep them buried in the memories in his camera, but you were dead wrong, and instead, your beautiful pictures litter the walls of his home. You’ve never been over because of how often you’d run into a photograph you didn’t know was being taken on a surface in his house, he’d only ever come to yours. However, he does have a major aggressive side and won’t hesitate to display that to others who decide they wanna touch what’s his. He even makes sure you know that you’re his, there’s no such thing as you belonging to someone else, not even yourself. You are his and you need to learn that. 

✩ JAEHYUN ✩ tw. mentally unstable reader, getting in a stranger’s car in the middle of the night?? (stay safe y’all), getting engaged in like a week??, broke reader, gold digger reader, manipulation, sadistic jae wc. 0.3k

Jaehyun is a menace. I mean, a literal menace. You met him at your job that you’re working only to get out of a money slump you’ve been in since you graduated school and your parents kicked you out. You haven’t been sleeping right and your mind has been all funky, you’re not necessarily who you used to be. Your bubbly personality has been stolen from you by the endless amounts of sleep you’ve lost trying to make enough money to eat at least a meal a day. Well, actually, you didn’t meet him at the job, you met him after the job. It was late and you were walking home, but he stopped you, asking to give you a ride. You were too tired to reject his proposal, especially after he kept pestering you, so you just got into his car and told him your address. He brought you home the next couple of nights as well until he finally proposed the question of marriage. You actually popped something in your jaw out of shock, what the hell was wrong with him? However, as much as you wanted to reject his offer, he managed to blur all your rationality with the color green. He had actually managed to score a beautiful girl such as yourself with the thought of being able to live a rich life, he was proud of himself. Once you two finalized the marriage, he started getting harsher, meaner, more manipulative and sadistic. You wanted to get away from him, but you practically signed your life away under your marriage certificate, you couldn’t leave him now or you’d lose everything. He’d make your life hell, take everything you have away from you, you were sure of that much. You had to tolerate his shit behavior toward you now, make him as happy as you could, make yourself the perfect wife that he wants, even if it means you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life, at least you won’t be living on the streets somewhere. And he did it, that’s exactly the mindset he wants you to have.

✩ RENJUN ✩ tw. mentions shrine, pictures taken w/o reader knowing, clothes stolen from reader, implied stalking, masturbation (m receiving), panty-fucking wc. 0.2k

Renjun is actually the most adorable yandere in the world. He would be so soft and so sweet. I mean, behind closed doors he’d be the one to keep a shrine of you in his house. You’d have a room all to yourself. It’d be pink, just as he expects to be your favorite color, and it’d be filled with pictures of you, because how could you not want to look at yourself every day, and the pieces of clothing he’s stolen from your own room would be adorning the drawers of the dresser, the clothing you’d been searching for because you thought you lost them in your room. Oh, silly girl, it’s okay to lose things sometimes, maybe just go out and buy some more, the cherry panties always were the cutest on you. You’d trust him so much that you wouldn’t expect him to snap pictures of your naked body and post them all over the walls of his house, you would never expect such an innocent boy to touch himself while staring at those same pictures while holding your dirty panties from the other day, right? He’ll call you in the middle of the night just to hear your raspy voice, becoming turned on by the tired aura you’re alluding. You drive him crazy, he’d never do this for anyone else. He’s crazed, a madman in love with a beautiful princess who knows nothing of how obsessed he is.

✩ SHOTARO ✩ tw. mind games, rich girl reader, poor taro, depression, homicide, suicide, dubcon aspects, controlling taro, slight possessiveness wc. 0.3k

Shotaro would be a lot more cruel than what you’d think. But it’s exactly that, you’d never think that he’d ever be capable of doing the things he’s very much done. Once he falls, it’s completely over for you and your once-happy life. You were a bubbly girl, you got the best grades in school, everyone loved you, you were friends with just about everyone, and you even came from a rich family, you were spoiled rotten and got everything you ever wanted just handed to you without working for anything. That’s one thing he envied you for, because everything you have, he doesn’t nearly have the same. He’s poor and can barely even afford to feed his family a single meal a day even having worked all week. You never even noticed him. You were so oblivious to his persistent stares and obvious perverted remarks. He just wanted to take you all for himself, force your parents out of that mansion of yours and force himself into it. He just didn’t know how he could do that until he came across your depressed, homicidal little brother. You didn’t see it coming and even when it happened, you were in so much shock that you couldn’t even tell what had happened in the first place. Your brother committed suicide after killing both your parents right in front of your eyes. The only reason you got out of taking the blame for it all is because of the high-end surveillance cameras all throughout your house. Still in a state of disbelief, you went about living your life, slowly falling into his little plan even deeper as you completely distanced yourself from those you were close with, grades dropped, a depressive personality replaced your once bright one. You eventually found your way into his arms, unknowingly giving yourself to him without even trying, your mind not in the right place to be declining any amount of physical touch. In not even a week, he had moved in and attempted to replace the joyous atmosphere that once resided in your house with a warmer and more controlled one. You were at his constant mercy, doing everything for him, your soul so bent to his every will that you had no place to reject anything he says, does, or asks of you. You were his and you even knew that by now.

✩ SUNGCHAN ✩ tw. drugging, paralysis, doll reader wc. 0.1k

Sungchan is a gentle giant, really. He would treat you with care, making sure you’re never hurt and that he doesn’t pull too hard while brushing your hair in the mornings. He would make sure that every time he cooks breakfast for you, he’d slip just the right amount of pills into your omelet so that you’re paralyzed just enough for you to still be breathing and blinking. He’d dress you in the prettiest pink dresses and decorate your dollhouse, I mean room, with the prettiest pink decor. He would do your hair in pigtails with pink ribbons holding them up. Your makeup would be terrible, but it’d make you look all the more like a pretty doll, his pretty doll. You were all his to treat however he wanted. You would never disobey him and you’d always love him, he’d make sure of that with the paralyzers pumping through your veins. You were the only one he’d go to such lengths to keep, all the other ones were meaningless when it came down to you. You were just the lucky one he chose to love forever.

✩ KUN ✩ tw. knife, cursing, threatening, pet names (‘queen’, ‘princess’, ‘lady’), kidnapping, fictional world in kun’s head??, name calling (‘psychopath’), reader x kun are complete strangers wc. 0.2k

Kun would be a gentleman. Okay, sure, he’d have his crazy moments, like when he holds a knife up to some asshole’s throat because he laid a hand on you. But it’s fine because he’d never hurt you. He would only hurt for you. He loves you, he won’t let you forget that. He’ll take you out on romantic dinners, hold you close every night so you can fall asleep in his arms, hold the doors for you, bring you chocolate and flowers on your anniversary, treat you like a lady no matter where you are. You’d be his queen, his princess, his lady, you’d be his entire world and he won’t treat you any differently. Another one of his crazy moments might be when he kidnaps you and refuses to allow you to leave his house so he can do all of those things with the real you instead of the “you” in the fictional world inside his head. But that’s also fine because you’re safe, he would never hurt you. You’re his pride and joy, the reason he keeps living. Sure, you’ve told him you hate him for this, claimed you didn’t even know who he was, called him a psychopath, and all you’re trying to do is hurt his feelings, but no matter how mad he gets at you or how much you refuse to accept his love right now, you’ll see that he keeps his promise of never hurting you.

✩ WINWIN ✩ tw. murder, framing reader’s sister, dubcon aspects, implied stalking, alcohol consumption wc. 0.2k

Winwin is the biggest sweetheart, how could he ever do something so gruesome as to kill your family? You were rendered homeless, an orphan, you had nothing. You were the biggest suspect in the case, but when a murder weapon with your older sister’s fingerprints turned up in a ditch not too far from the house the murder happened in, you were also rendered an only child. You had nowhere to go and no one to turn to, until you met him in a random turn of events. You’ve never seen him before and while drunk, you definitely didn’t recognize his voice either. He knew you, he’s known you for quite some time. When you woke up in his bed the following morning, it was hard to believe you had run into such a generous man. You had apparently told him all about what happened to you in this past year and he graciously offered you a place to stay, which you had also accepted in your drunken state. You were more hesitant now that you were in a better mindset, but you just couldn’t say no to his soft eyes and grateful smile, so you wound up moving in with him. Your life was so easy and so simple from then on out. Sure, you never had any friends because they’d all go missing the moment they started talking to you, but that’s really the only complaint you could ever have, everything you wanted fit so perfectly into your hands as soon as you put it out into the world, or into his head.

✩ TAEIL ✩ tw. slow-burn romance, crying, mentions being dumped/stood up, cursing, sleeping w/ his brother??, choking, possessiveness, dub/noncon aspects wc. 0.2k

Taeil was calm and patient with getting you. He met you and let your relationship slowly develop. He wouldn’t make any rash decisions and he would let you venture into relationships outside of your slow-paced one, allowing you to experience adventure before coming right back to him, which you always did. You’d crawl back to him on all fours, crying, begging for him to take you back because you were stood up or dumped and you were now so desperate for male attention that it all had to come right back to him. You were never rejected though, he was wrapped around your pretty little finger. But soon, you made it a point to hurt him, you did it all on purpose, at least that’s what he thought. You didn’t, you were drunk and he wasn’t around and you were so so so lonely, you slept with his brother. Once he found out, he was livid, to say the least. You were really in for it when he got his hands on you next, and you did not get to leave him ever again. “Surprise, bitch,” he would say to you, his hand gripping your throat tightly as you struggled underneath his body and unforgiving scowl, “You broke me, are you happy? Now you can find adventure in me, and me alone.” 

✩ DOYOUNG ✩ tw. tsundere doyo, blood, black eye, bruises, physical abuse wc. 0.1k

Doyoung bullies you because he likes you, he’d be a tsundere type yandere. He’d want your heart, but he also wouldn’t like to admit that he’d fall apart without you in his life, especially considering he likes to believe that he hates you. It’s easy for him to ignore the stinging in his chest whenever you tell him you hate him with blood spilling from your nose, a black eye, and bruises that were all over your body from the beating you took from him the previous day. You were more of a punching bag to him. The more he loved you, the harder it was for him to stop abusing you. Every day it would happen, he looked at it as a joyous time because he got to see you and touch you and hear your adorable little squeals and pleas. He was awful to you and you never would’ve loved him because of how terrible of a person he was, this ate at him and so he made sure every punch he bashed into your pretty face was just as painful as the heartbreak he experiences every time he looks at you.

✩ JOHNNY ✩ tw. size kink, corruption kink, mind games/manipulation, gaslighting, sleeping w/ reader’s sister and mom and best friend, drugging, depression, victim blaming (not to reader) wc. 0.2k

Johnny obviously is a lot bigger than you, which is a whole lot of his attraction to you. You’re just so tiny and huggable, squeezable even. He loves that about you, you’re so small and adorable. He just wants to break you, but he isn’t capable of doing such a thing. He “loves” you, after all. So, he’ll break you through other people. He wants to keep you tiny and sweet, you’re not allowed to get bigger and you’re definitely not allowed to become any less innocent. No one else is allowed to corrupt you because you’re only his to ruin. He would do everything you like, put the most effort into making you feel loved. In the end, he’d make you fall in love with him, you’d be so head over heels for him that when he sleeps with your best friend, you’d be crushed. When he sleeps with your sister, you’d be crushed. When he sleeps with your mom, you’d be absolutely shattered. Your entire world was completely destroyed. Of course, they’d all be drugged, none of them ever would’ve done that to you under their own free will, but you don’t know that. You’d fall into a deep depression, and who else would be there to lift you back up other than him? You couldn’t be mad at him, you loved him. Plus, he didn’t do it, he convinced you that he was forced into it because he was drunk and wasn’t in his right mind while they were, they took advantage of him in his most vulnerable state. You felt bad for him and cowered into his arms, accepting him as the only true person in your life anymore.

✩ JISUNG ✩ tw. power imbalance, alcohol consumption, bruises, professor x student relations, author reader, blackmailing, dubcon aspects, explicit photos and videos, cursing, name calling (‘whore’), degradation wc. 0.3k

Jisung loves having power advantages over the one he “loves”. If you have anything more than he has, you’re worthless to him. It’s such a good thing that he found you, he might’ve been lonely if he hadn’t found you stumbling out of the bar in the middle of the night with tears pouring down your cheeks, alcohol staining your breath, bruises coating the delicate skin of your wrists. You looked absolutely ruined, perfect. You had no idea whose hands you managed yourself into when you tripped over the uneven sidewalk and fell straight into his loving arms. Your eyes were dazed and your words couldn’t be understood even by an equally drunk person. You were unable to tell him where your car was or even where your house was when he shoved you into his car to help drive you home. You were perfect, really. He couldn’t have found a more vulnerable, pretty girl such as yourself. He already knew who you were, you were a professor at the college he also attended. Aside from that, your father owned the entirety of the college and you had a job on the side as an author that was just starting to pick up. If pictures of you having sex with one of your students had gotten out, it could ruin your entire life, not just a single career path. You were made aware of this matter as soon as you woke up naked in the bed of one of your students, photos and videos of the events that had taken place last night all over his phone. He made sure to show you every single thing he had on his phone of how nasty you were last night. You begged him not to let anyone else see them, pleaded that he kept them for his eyes only if he kept them at all. However, just in doing that, you made the biggest mistake of your life. Claiming you’d do anything for him as long as they didn’t get out to the public? Such a dumb little whore you were, giving your life up to him so easily.

✩ CHENLE ✩ tw. bribing, sugar daddy/website mentioned, hookups, sex for cash, cursing, name calling (from reader to reader; ‘whore’), implied murder, dacryphilia, degradation wc. 0.1k

Chenle would also use his money to bribe you into being with him. Of course, it’d be more of a simple hookup at first. You’d sleep with him for cash out of desperation, knowing you seem like a whore, but you didn’t care because money was the most important thing. But no matter how many times you claimed it would be just a one-time thing, he would always call you back to his place with a higher reward. You kept falling right back into his greedy grasp, always as desperate for the cash as you were the first time you met. His routine worked out lovely until you found your way onto some sugar daddy website, finding yourself a replacement for him. So, were you tired of him already? He was pissed, to say the least. You just abandoned him like that, how could you? He wasn’t done with you. And he’ll make sure you understand that when that new sugar daddy of yours is lying lifeless on the floor as he fucks you into tears, telling you everything he plans on doing to his little piggy bank.

✩ YANGYANG ✩ tw. clingy yang, possessiveness, implied kidnapping, persistent boy yang, pet name (‘darling’) wc. 0.2k

Yangyang, yeah, sure, he’s a brat, but you’d never see that side of him. His entire personality would revolve around you. You don’t like mean people? He’d be the nicest boy around. You want a man who goes to the gym? He’ll get a gym membership and work out every damn day. You want your man to be a cat person and not a dog person? He’ll buy himself a whole house full of cats and name them all after something you like. You can tell him to completely change his appearance and he’d do that for you, because he loves you. The only thing he could never do is leave you alone. You have his heart now and you’re never gonna get rid of him. Eventually, you’ll start getting tired of his persistent nature and clinginess, so you’ll tell him off. He’ll be confused and won’t know what’s gotten into you, or even how to react, but then he’ll just go back to being obsessive over you. Maybe after the twelfth or thirteenth time of you flipping on him, he’ll begin to understand that you don’t want him in all the ways he wants you. And maybe that’s when he snaps. Maybe that’s when he takes you all for himself and he shows you all the ways he is willing to take you. Now, now, you can scream at him all you want, but he won’t listen to your pleas. Once he has his mind set on something, he’ll never give up till he gets what he wants. And you’re what he wants. Now that he has you, he’s never gonna let you go, ever, you’re his forever now, darling.

✩ YUTA ✩ tw. stalking, voyeurist yu, hidden cameras, pictures being taken w/o reader’s permission, stealing clothes, breaking into reader’s house wc. 0.2k

Yuta would be all about the stalking aspect of being a yandere. He would be outside your window watching you get dressed, snapping pictures to add to his collection, popping hidden cameras into your shower so he could watch you even when the windows don’t show you. He’d sneak in your slightly opened window at night and watch you sleep, gently petting your hair while telling you how much he loves you. You’d wake up with missing clothes from your laundry basket, chilled from the window being pulled open all the way when you could’ve sworn you only propped it open a little for a gentle gust of wind to come in, and a feeling of unease running through you. You would go about your day like usual, then come back home and wake up with the same feeling of unease as the last morning. This was routine for you, you’ve gotten used to the cold night air filling your room, having to run out and buy new pairs of panties because yours disappear nightly, and you don’t even question it when you find weird-looking black blocks behind an empty shampoo bottle in the shower. You’re too naive to understand what all these signs are pointing to, and, frankly, you’re too fed up with this lifetime to care.

✩ JUNGWOO ✩ tw. neighbor woo, too kind/too trusting reader, manipulation wc. 0.3k

Jungwoo is your adorable and friendly neighbor-type yandere. You met him when you moved into the house next to his, your last landlord throwing you out for not paying your rent on time. You convinced your parents to put the down payment on the house and you’ll take care of the mortgage. They agreed to it only to get you out of their hair, and boy are you glad they did, you would’ve been living on the streets if you couldn’t convince them to help you. Your first impression of him was that he was quite the innocent boy, you were extremely confused about how he was able to live on his own. Time passed while you were living there so quickly. You were working every day and every night just to make ends meet, but he always seemed to be at home, like he never worked a day in his life. You never said anything to him about it, no matter how often it was eating at your mind, because you were just too nice to pry into details about his life. That’s what he loved you most for, you were so kind and considerate, even though all your kindness was only causing you to suffer more and more in your day-to-day life. You’d hand out a hundred-dollar bill to a homeless man because he claimed he needed food while sitting right outside a cheap restaurant, you were just so sweet. Soon, your payments stopped coming to the bank, your letters never stayed in the mailbox long enough for the mailman to collect them. You were soon kicked from your new house because you “failed to pay the mortgage”. You knew you were paying so you had no idea what they were talking about. But his plan worked out marvelously because as soon as you were kicked out and offered a place to stay in your lovely neighbor’s house, it was very quickly accepted. You didn’t want to live on the streets after all, and surely your neighbor’s arms were far better than being homeless.

✩ XIAOJUN ✩ tw. superiority complex, xiao refuses to accept rejection, cursing, name calling (‘bitch’), humiliation, degradation, revenge sex, kidnapping, reader is tied up, recording, implied noncon, bruises, hickeys/love bites, scratches, blackmailing wc. 0.2k

Xiaojun is one cocky motherfucker with a huge superiority complex who refuses to accept rejection. So when you come right out and say that you’re not interested in him or his unattractive personality, it instantly turns his vision red. You have no right to call him unattractive, you bitch. He’ll make sure you pay for ever insulting him like that, he’ll teach you many lessons and when he’s done with you, he’ll hang you out to dry and he’ll embarrass you just like you embarrassed him in that moment. All your friends laughing at his flushed face, eyes filled with amusement as he hurries off into the bathroom, not wanting to stare at your disgusting face anymore. He wanted to ruin you, he wanted to absolutely break you. Who the fuck do you think you are to treat him like that? Do you not understand what he’s capable of? Honestly, he didn’t even understand what he was capable of until he had you tied in his basement, cameras taped all around the room to record every angle just right, taking advantage of your vulnerable state in every way he could. You were weak and he expected you to know that by the time he was through with you. You’re nothing, how dare you talk to him like that? He’d break you, ruin you, then he’d make you walk into school the next day with bruises, bites, hickeys, scratches, shame all over you. And you wouldn’t say a word to anyone because, if you did, he would leak every video he recorded to every social media site and humiliate you even more.

✩ MARK ✩ tw. stalking, bully reader, slight bimbo reader, explicit depictions of murder, implied kidnapping wc. 0.3k

Mark knew he was way out of your league. He was weird and nowhere near your type. He saw your uncomfortable glances in his direction every time he would get a little too close, the laughs you and your friends would start up when he stuttered while speaking up in class, or the repulsed looks the new man you were all about that week would give him once you told him about how he’s your little obsessive stalker. He wouldn’t even be creepy about his love for you, he wouldn’t. He would keep his love on the down-low, trying not to draw too much attention to how often he scans your beautiful curves, watches you twirl your hair, puts too much focus into watching your hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs that are only that way due to your excessively short skirt. He knows your quirks, he knows everything about you because he actually pays attention. Everyone else ignores the real you, and he sees that. But, you don’t. You think it’s normal to hide yourself away from people and ignore the burning guilt inside you every time you do something cruel to another person. Him, however, he will always be that cruel person you so desperately try to be. Only, he’s quite the opposite of you because he hides it. But you’re both the same, you both hide your true selves because the world would eat people like the both of you up. He is the monster that sleeps under your bed at night, the thing you should be afraid of. He’s the one who grabbed that new man best friend out of his room in the middle of the night to hang from his staircase after writing a suicide note on his behalf, he’s the one who forced peanut butter down your sister’s throat even though she’s deathly allergic to peanuts, he’s the one that ran over your best friend’s head with her boyfriend’s car to frame him for the murder of his beloved girlfriend. You shouldn’t be running from yourself, he’s the one you should be running from. He’s the dangerous thing, he’s what you’re afraid of. But don’t worry, if you’re not scared now that you’re alone, you’ll be even more scared when you’re with him and promised that you’ll never be alone again!

[crackpotmufflery]

Who’s the alpha

Zoro x Alpha!reader

~~~

“You need to stop getting into fights” you say to him as you cleaned his fresh wound. Zoro rolls his eyes. He winces slightly from the stinging pain, but he manages to stay composed. He let out a low chuckle, his usual stoic expression not wavering.

"And why should I stop?" Zoro asked, his voice still rough and calm.

“I cant keep patching you up, your taking up all of my resources” you are the medic on the ship and you usually end up patching up all of Zoro’s scrapes and bruises. Zoro chuckled at your statement, his arms crossed over his chest. He knew you were joking, but he couldn't help but find your words amusing.

“That’s your job, isn't it?" Zoro said, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a faint smirk.

“Isn’t your Job to protect? How Come you keep getting hurt?” You say, mocking him. Zoro's smirk grew at your words, clearly enjoying the banter between you two.

"I do protect," he retorted, "I protect the crew from idiots trying to fight us. You should know that by now." Zoro's eyes remained locked on yours, his gaze unwavering.

“Well you can’t do your job without me, I can do my job without you.” Zoro's smirk vanishes at your words, a low growl leaving his lips. He uncrosses his arms and steps closer to you, his eyes narrowing.

"Careful with your words," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need you, I've done just fine without a medic before."

“Well then next time you get hurt, don’t come crying to mommy.” You mock, babying him. Zoro's eyes widen slightly at your words, a mixture of fury and irritation passing through them. He steps closer, his body mere inches from yours.

"I don't cry," he says, his voice low and menacing. "And I definitely won't come to you for help." Zoro's hand reaches up and grabs your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

You grab his wrist aggressively, “no touching the merchandise,” you smirk. Zoro's eyes widen at your action, a hint of surprise flickering in them. He watches you calmly, not attempting to pull away from your grip. A low chuckle leaves his lips, his smirk returning to his face.

"Oh, you think you can stop me?" Zoro asks, his voice low and suggestive.

“I don’t think,” you tilt your head menacingly, letting go of him and return to bandaging him up. Zoro watches you work in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. He can't deny the fact that he admires the way you stand your ground against him, but he's also annoyed at how unaffected you seem to be by his intimidating presence. As you finish bandaging his wound, he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You really know how to piss me off, you know that?"

“Or are you just mad a girl could beat you up?” You pull on the bandages, making him wince. Zoro grits his teeth as you pull the bandages, a hiss of pain escaping him. He glares at you for a moment before his smirk returns.

"Don't get cocky," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I could take you down in a heartbeat if I wanted to."

“Well it would be unfair, you’ve got a cut,” you stick out your bottom lip mockingly. Zoro's annoyance increases as you mock him, his eyes narrowing at your pouting lip. He grumbles, not wanting to admit that you had a point.

"Hmph, it's just a small cut," he retorts, trying to downplay his injury.

“A cut you wouldn’t have gotten If you were actually capable,” you clean off your hands, putting all of your medical supplies away. Zoro's irritation turns into annoyance as you continue to taunt him. He clenches his fists tightly, his jaw clenched.

"You really enjoy poking at me, don't you?" He says, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm more than capable, you just haven't seen me at my best. You're just... lucky I'm injured right now."

“Sometime’s I think you get hurt on purpose just to argue with me,” you tease. Zoro's eye twitches slightly at your words, his irritation growing further.

"You think I get hurt on purpose just to argue with you?" He says, his voice low and filled with disbelief. "You're out of your mind, I fight to protect the crew, not to have any excuse to talk to you. I can't stand you."

“Well you could have left when I finished, but you stayed to argue,” Zoro grumbles and looks away from you, his irritation still present.

"I'm not arguing with you," he says, his voice low and defensive. "I'm just... responding to your stupid comments." Zoro knows deep down that he could have left by now, but he couldn't help but be drawn in by your teasing. He doesn't want to admit it, but he finds your boldness somewhat amusing... and maybe even attractive.

“Stupid? Come on Zoro, take me in a fight then, we’ll see who’s stupid now,” you tease, holding up your fists. Zoro's eyes narrow at your challenge, a smirk appearing on his face.

"You want to fight me?" He asks, his voice low and confident. "You think you can take me on?" His eyes rake over your body, studying you for a moment. Zoro can't help but think that you're insane for wanting to fight him, but something about your audacity sparks a flame of excitement within him.

“Worried I’ll win?”

Zoro's smirk widens at your comment, his eyes flickering with determination. "Not in a million years," he replies, his voice deep and sure. "You'll be on the floor begging me to stop before you can land a single punch."

You get turned on a little, that’s not the only thing you want him to beg for. You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. Zoro's eyes narrow further as he senses the change in your demeanor. He can feel the tension in the air, a mixture of irritation and something else he can't quite put his finger on. He takes a step closer to you, his face mere inches from yours.

"You're playing a dangerous game, you know that?" Zoro says, his voice low and rough.

“Bring it?”

Zoro's eye flicks to your face, studying your expression. He can see the determination in your eyes, the confidence in your stance. For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if it's smart to fight a girl. But then his ego gets the better of him, and he smirks. "Fine, don't say I didn't warn you," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

You look him in the eyes and the desire fills you up, you want him on all fours. You bring your knee up and hit him where the sun don’t shine. Zoro's eyes widen in shock as you abruptly knee him between the legs. He lets out a guttural grunt of pain, his body instinctively doubling over. He lets go of his swords, clutching his crotch in agony. Zoro hisses through clenched teeth, his body crumpled over.

You look down at him, liking him in that position below you, “who’s the alpha now.”

[rigginsstreet]

um so i reblogged this video earlier and then thought of a lil scenario lol so

-

Their lockers are right next to each other, thanks to alphabetical ordering - Hargrove and Harrington. Was kind of a bitch when they couldn't stand each other. Is a bitch now for entirely different reasons. Reasons like this.

Ever since they started regularly hooking up, becoming exclusive without ever saying the word out loud, Billy's come to learn how goddamn clingy Harrington is - emotionally, but also very much physically.

Can't even button up his shirt after a shower without him trying to cop a feel like Harrington's some horny 13 year old on his first date with a chick at the movies.

"Will you watch it!" Billy flinches back as Harrington's entire hand grasps onto his pec. "Can't be doing that shit in public!" he hisses out.

"Relax, will ya?" Harrington is unfazed, like he's never had a problem in his life. Hand going right back to Billy's tit. "No one else is even in here." Squeezes for emphasis.

And Billy can't deny it, it does feel nice having his tits played with. Weirded him out at first because he thought Harrington was missing certain parts of the female anatomy, trying to project it onto Billy, but. Harrington had assured him that wasn't the case, and it turns out Billy's nipples are kind of super sensitive to any attention, so. It was a win for the both of them.

"Doesn't mean you get to just fondle the merchandise whenever you feel like it." Billy swats his hand away. "I let you get enough of them after hours."

"Yeah, but in case you haven't noticed," Now Harrington's got both his hands inside Billy's shirt, cupping the undersides of Billy's pecs, "I'm kind of a boob guy.

Billy lets himself relish in the feel of Harrington's hands on him for just a second before grabbing his wrists and yanking them down. "You're a pain in the ass guy, is what you are." Harrington's tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, and Billy knows the joke he's suppressing. Idiot. He's not acknowledging it. "We can be back at your place in like, what? Ten minutes? You can't wait?"

"Fuck no. Ten minutes is forever." And the way Harrington whines it Billy believes he actually means it. Clingy.

"Oh my God, fucking drama queen," Billy sighs, rolling his eyes heavenward. "How 'bout this, you keep your hands to yourself starting now and I'll let you fuck 'em when we get back to yours? Capisce?"

The way Harrington's eyes light up you would think he had just won the lottery or like... found out Santa was real. And people think Billy isn't a giving, considerate person... okay.

Billy gets to finish getting dressed and fixing his hair, even though he knows it'll be ruined in about 20 minutes. But it's all about presentation.

And Harrington, well, he gets the gift of a goddamn lifetime when he's got his dick pressed between Billy's tits, getting to spill his cum on them (and more than a little on Billy's chin, not that he really minds).

So, all in all, he considers it a pretty successful day.

[ametistacollinsworld]

ღ Howdy Pillar x Reader ღ

My 57 request! Hope you like!

Howdy Pillar, the only shopkeeper in the entire neighborhood, who with his kind and friendly manner attracted you in an intense way. Who wouldn't admit that this man was cute?

Since you've moved into the neighborhood, you've felt so welcome around everyone! Everyone was so kind and sweet… but you had to admit, you had more eyes for a certain green four-armed man. Howdy.

Howdy was just… so nice to you! He would always be willing to give you an extra apple or two for your apple pies, like: "On the house, because you're one of my favorites!" as he would say, not that the merchandise is worth any money, with you being able to get the so merchandise with a few jokes… but it was still sweet of him to do something like that right?

But then, recently you were seriously thinking about how to confess… Love could be so complicated! how should you do it?

With a romantic dinner? The idea sounded cool- but you didn't necessarily have the guts for it yet- Dinner at your place? You and Howdy alone by candlelight? Omg- You blush just thinking about-

With a song? No- Definitely not- Although it was a cute and attractive idea, you also didn't know if you could sing it without blushing in front of Howdy- You would probably stutter the whole song honestly-

Hm… how about a simple card saying your feelings? Yes! This could work! Would you try to at least stay in front of him without running around like a scared mouse- Yeah, that sounds good enough…

So then, with the idea in mind, you picked up some [color] paper, starting to write down your loving feelings for Howdy, how they were for you something like you were constantly on sweet clouds, as cliche as that was.

With the card ready, you knew it was time! Checking your clock to see it was four o'clock in the afternoon. Perfect!

With courage taking your body, you left your house with the card, quickly heading to Howdy’s Place, opening the door slowly being greeted by the soft sound of the bell, and there he was.. behind the counter giving you a sweet smile, as always… you squeezed the card lightly in your hands.

"Oh! Good afternoon (Y/n)! How are you today?" Howdy spoke with a happy tone, greeting you with his usual sweet smile, which made you take a deep breath, returning the smile.

"Good afternoon Howdy... I'm fine!" You spoke quickly, moving closer to the counter to be closer to him.

"That's good to hear dear! So, how can I help you today? Maybe a bag of [favorite sweets] and some apples?" Howdy asked with a soft smile, leaning on the counter as he rested his head on one of his hands.

"W-well that would be great! But that's not why I'm here… you see Howdy… this is for you." You spoke in a slow nervous tone, slowly placing the card on the counter, pushing it towards him. The Pillar reacted to this with an expression of confusion for a second, but ended up taking the card anyway.

You felt yourself shudder on your feet, feeling a tightness in your chest as you held your breath, just watching Howdy's surprise expression, with him having a slightly open mouth in surprise in addition to slightly flushed cheeks. God! You wanted to run to your home and never leave again-

''(Y/n)?'' Howdy called your name softly, touching your shoulder lightly bringing you out of your thoughts.

''Y-yes?'' You asked in a low stammering tone, rubbing your hands together feeling nervous from the man's gaze.

"I'm sorry..but I can't accept your feelings... not yet, dear.'' Howdy said in a sad tone, looking into your eyes with guilty. You felt a pain in your chest, soon followed by small tears forming in your eyes.

"A-ah.. I-I'm so sorry Howdy... I-I-" You started to speak in a panic tearful tone, which was soon interrupted by a soft kiss on your forehead, followed by Howdy's hands wiping your tears carefully.

"I just said, not yet silly.. I just want to get to know you better first!" Howdy said giving you a worried little sweet smile, which you sniffed returning the smile.

''Sorry about that..I just- never felt like this before...'' You apologized in a soft tone, leaning on Howdy's hands, which he gave you a small chuckle caressing your face.

''No problem! After all... you are one of my favorites!'' Howdy said giving you a sweet smile.

If anyone requests maybe I'll do part 2 of this. Who knows.

-> Part 1 (You here!) -> Part 2

[theslasherslut]

I have an idea for you if you accept it... Have you heard about Welcome Home? Well, there's Wally as well as Sunny Day Jack is the protagonist of a children's show, the only difference is that Wally is a factoche. Well it is if the reader finds Wally's tapes when he is with Jack. Now the poor reader has been teleported through the world of Welcome Home along with Jack, with Wally being a yandere for the reader as well, only Wally never releases the reader into the real world.

A/n: I tried on with the research with jack

----

You have always been a fan of Welcome Home, a 1970s television series that featured nine neighbors living in a colorful neighborhood. You loved watching the reruns on your old VCR, and you collected all the merchandise you could find. You especially admired Wally Darling, the cheerful and friendly host who often interacted with the viewers. He was always so kind and charming, and you wished you could meet him in person.

One day, you found a mysterious VHS tape at a garage sale. It had no label, but it had a sticker that said "Welcome Home: The Lost Episode". You were curious and excited, thinking that it might be a rare and valuable find. You bought it for a dollar and rushed home to watch it.

You inserted the tape into your VCR and pressed play. The screen flickered and showed the familiar opening theme of Welcome Home. You smiled and hummed along, feeling nostalgic and happy. Then, the screen changed and showed Sunny Day Jack in his usual outfit: a shirt, black jeans, and a blue jacket. He was standing in front of Wally's house, which was painted in bright red.

"Hello there, friends!" he greeted with his trademark smile. "Welcome to another episode of Welcome Home! I'm your host, Sunny Day Jack, and I'm so glad you're here with me today. We have a lot of fun things planned for you, so sit back and enjoy the show!"

You felt a surge of joy as you saw him on the screen. He looked exactly as you remembered him, except for one thing: he seemed to be looking directly at you. His eyes were piercing and intense, as if he could see through the TV and into your soul like Wally would do in the tapes. 'Odd he never did this before,' you thought to yourself.

"Today is a very special day, friends," he continued. "Because today, I have a very special guest with me. A guest who is very dear to my heart. A guest who I've been waiting for a long time to meet. A guest who is none other than...you!"

You blinked in confusion and disbelief. Did he just say...you? Was he talking to you? How did he know you were watching? Was this some kind of prank or joke?

Before you could process what was happening, you felt a strange sensation in your body. It was like a jolt of electricity that ran through your veins, making you shiver and twitch. You tried to move, but you couldn't. You were paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch the screen.

"That's right, friends," Wally said with his cat-like grin, now view of the screen. "You are my special guest today. And we have a surprise for you. A surprise that will make you very happy. A surprise that will change your life forever."

He reached behind his back and pulled out something that looked like a remote control. He pressed a button on it, and the screen went black.

You felt another jolt of electricity in your body, but this time it was stronger and more painful. You screamed, but no one heard you. You felt like you were being torn apart, like your atoms were being rearranged.

Then, everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a different place. A place that looked familiar, but also different. A place that looked like...Welcome Home.

You were standing in front of Wally's house, surrounded by colorful flowers and trees. The sky was blue and clear, and the sun was shining brightly. You could hear birds chirping and the other puppets laughing in the distance, maybe at a joke, Barnaby mabe or the game that they were playing. But you couldn't focus on that. After all, you weren't in your world.

You looked around in awe and confusion. How did you get here? Was this real? Was this a dream?

"Hello there, apple!" a monotone voice said behind you.

You turned around and saw Wally Darling standing next to you. He was holding your hand, smiling warmly at you.

"Welcome to my world," he said. "Welcome to Welcome Home."

He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

You felt a mix of emotions: shock, fear, disgust, anger, curiosity, attraction.

You tried to pull away from him, but he held you tight.

"Don't be afraid," Jack said softly in your ear. "I won't hurt you. We love you."

Jack kissed you this time.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn't.

You wanted to run away, but you couldn't.

You wanted to wake up, but you couldn't.

You were trapped.

Trapped with Sunny Day Jack and Wally Darling.

Trapped in Welcome Home.

Trapped forever.

[kidstemplatte]

broken by love

summary: uncle copi babysits you and terzo’s daughter.

message at the end of the post as usual. please enjoy. 🤍🐁

(this is gonna make me cry)

“Ciao, fratellino!” Terzo greeted his brother, standing in the doorway of the Cardinal’s quarters, holding his little girl, Violetta, in his arms.

“What a lovely surprise!” Copia replied with a grin.

“Sorry I threw this upon you with such short notice, I’m going out with (Y/N) - er- this one’s Mommy tonight.” He said, quickly correcting his mistake as he placed his toddler on the ground.

“Oh no, you are not throwing anything on me at all. I am always happy to see my niece.”

“Alright la mia stellina, your Mama and I will be back tonight. Have fun. Make sure he stays out of trouble.” Terzo said, as if he himself didn’t come out of the womb Satan’s greatest troublemaker.

“I will! Hi, Uncle Copi!” she beamed, jumping up and down in excitement. Violetta loved spending time with her uncle. He was funny and sweet and had lots of cool toys in his room. Not to mention apple juice.

“Alright tesoro, have fun, but do not forget about me. I love you, la mia stellina.” Terzo said, kneeling to the ground and planting kisses all over his daughter’s soft face.

“Bye-bye Papa! I love you!” she waved as her father left the room.

“So, what shall we do?” the Cardinal asked his niece, clapping his hands together and shifting them a bit.

“Can I see your toys?” she asked excitedly, looking up at him with her big round eyes, strikingly akin to yours.

“Eh… My toys?” He asked, a bit confused, until realizing what she was referring to. “Oh, of course!”

Copia was, to put it bluntly, a big fat nerd. The shelves in his office were lined with what he would describe as “artifacts”, figurines and merchandise from various games, films, and comics, which were now old enough to be considered “vintage.” Thinking about that sent a shiver down his spine. Typically, Copia was pained when someone referred to his collectibles as “toys”, but found it utterly adorable in this scenario.

“Right this way!” He announced, crouching down a bit to take her tiny hand in his and lead her towards his office.

Upon entering the room, Violetta gazed up at the various memorabilia in awe, mouth agape. The Cardinal couldn’t lie; it was nice that someone finally showed some appreciation for his collection.

“Can we play?” she asked politely, pointing at the shelves.

In this moment, the value of the figurines meant nothing to him. He would normally become frazzled when someone touched his things, waving his hands frantically while jumbling a plethora of words,

“Nononothesearespecialdonottouchpleaseyouseetheyareworthalotandeverythingisexactlywhereitneedstobeplacedand-“

But she was a well-mannered girl, and beyond that, was far more special than anything on his shelf. Besides, at the unlikely chance she were to break something, it would be a wonderful excuse for him to scroll through eBay and search for a replacement (as well as other trinkets) late into the depths of the night. And if anything were to be broken, it would be broken by love. The best thing to be broken by.

“Sure!” he responded cheerfully, gesturing towards his display and letting her decide which characters would join today’s cast of playtime.

Today’s storyline was rather enthralling. A young and beautiful woman named Collette (a Princess Leia doll) was secretly in love with “Señor Joe”, (a Boba Fett figurine) someone her parents told her she must never speak with. The story ended triumphantly with a beautiful marriage. Copia didn’t know how or when they got there- he remembers Violetta briefly mentioning flying to Brazil on a private jet- maybe a war at one point- but somehow the two figures wound up at a marvelous wedding ceremony on Mars in front of all the Storm Troopers, to which, Violetta triumphantly announced, “The End!”

The Cardinal couldn’t help but wonder what you and Terzo were watching on television that inspired this thrilling plot.

“Wow, that was quite the story!” he said, impressed with his niece’s imagination. “You are very creative, much like your Mama and Papa.”

“Thank you Uncle Copi!” she chirped, practicing the manners you and Terzo taught her.

“Of course.” Copia caught sight of the clock, shocked by how much time had flown by.

“Violetta, it is now a very important time of day.” He announced.

“I already had nap time, Uncle Copi!”

To this, he chuckled, and ruffled his niece’s hair.

“Not nap time, it is feeding time.”

“But I’m not hungry.” She replied.

“Not for you, but for my rats.”

“Rats? You have rats? I want to see! Pleasepleaspleasepleaseplease!” She squealed, shaking her little hands in excitement, a mannerism he observed she shared with you.

“Papa says they are foul creatures plagued with disease!” she said, her bright smile indicating that she clearly had no understanding what any of that meant. For all she knew, that could be a top-tier compliment.

“Do you want to help me feed them?” he asked.

“Yes! Yes!” she agreed as she followed him out the door and down the hall, singing a little song about rats on the way. He might have to write that down.

And there they stood, in all their glory, two little rats in a spacey, well-kept cage, their beady eyes and soft grey fur capturing the little girl’s attention.

“Uncle Copi, they are so cute!!!” Violetta squealed.

“Would you like to hold one?” He asked as he opened the cage, refilling their food bowl.

Violetta got a tad nervous after his proposal, fingers fidgeting with the sides of her dress and her expression shifting to an anxious one.

“They are very sweet. You do not have to hold them if you do not want to, but I promise if you are gentle to them, they will be gentle to you.”

“That makes sense.” Violetta replied after her uncle’s thoughtful explanation. “I want to hold one.” She concluded. “Please.” She added, remembering what she was taught.

Maybe Terzo could learn some manners from his four-year-old daughter.

The Cardinal thought to himself.

“Now, hold your hands out like this.” He explained, cupping his hands with his palms facing up. “Do you want to hold Pesto or Bean?”

The latter name made Violetta giggle.

“Is something funny?” he teased.

“Bean is a funny name.” she replied through giggles, pointing at Bean, the brown rat.

“Okie dokie, one Bean coming right up!”

Copia gently picked up his precious Bean and placed him in Violetta’s hands. She giggled as she looked down on the little rat, so small, so sweet. A little bit like her.

“He is nice.” She said, smiling. “His feet tickle.”

“He is very nice. And sí, they do tickle. One time I was in a very important meeting and I did not notice this little Bean was in my sleeve until I felt him pitter-pattering up my arm and started laughing in front of the entire Clergy. Your Papa was there.” He recalled.

“Really?” Violetta asked.

“As real as real can be.”

“I guess I can’t bring him to school.” she sighed.

“I suppose not. But Bean is highly educated already. Does not need any more schooling.”

“Oh. I see.” she replied.

After some bonding time with Bean, Copia scooped him up and placed him back in his penthouse of a cage.

Bye bye, Bean. Bye bye, Pesto. She said, waving to the little rats.

“Next time you will have to hold Pesto. My bestie, Pestie.”

“Your what?”

“My bestie, Pestie. Bestie Pestie.” he explained nonchalantly.

To this, Violetta did not just giggle. If “Bean” was funny, “Bestie Pestie” was downright hilarious. The little girl started laughing so hard her stomach hurt, rolling on the ground as she repeated “Bestie Pestie.” The sound of the young girl’s laughter brought a newfound lightness in his heart, one that left his heart full but a little bit broken simultaneously. The two of them laughed together on the carpet, sharing what would be a treasured memory even years later.

After recovering from the laughter, Violetta asked,

“Can we play a game? Please? The car one?”

❦ ❦ ❦

“That’s how my Papa drives.” Violetta stated bluntly as she sipped on a juice box, pointing at the television screen as she watched her uncle crash the pixelated car in his video game.

Copia chuckled.

“Maybe you can do a better job than me? Your turn again?” He asked, holding out the controller.

“I like to watch. It’s fun.”

“Okie dokie.” Copia said, starting a new round of his game.

But this round was a little bit quieter. There was an absence of conversation. Violetta, exhausted from an afternoon of playing and laughter, fought the urge to fall asleep as her eyes started fluttering shut.

“Copi?” she suddenly said.

“Sí?”

“Are you a Papa?” the girl questioned.

“No, cara mia, that’s your father’s job.” he explained, laughed softly.

“Are you a Papa?”

“I’m afraid I do not understand.”

“Are you somebody’s Papa?”

…

Such a simple question that dug up so many not-so-simple feelings.

“Are you asking if I am a father?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. No, I am not.” He clarified, heart sinking a tad.

“Why not?”

How was he to explain to a four year old that he didn’t have what was considered a prerequisite to a child: a partner? That he was never sure if he would fall in love or that even if he did, there would never be anyone in the world who would love him back? That he wanted to be a Papa more than anything, but his life had not led him to that point?

“I already have my rats, I suppose.”

“You should do it.” Violetta suggested, as if it was a simple thing to accomplish.

“Maybe one day.” he replied, smiling softly.

“You’d be a good Papa.” she sleepily uttered.

“Thank you, Violetta. My brother is very lucky to be your Papa.” He replied, sincerely.

And the sleepy young girl gathered all the energy she had into one final statement before dozing off:

“Love you, Uncle Copi.”

“I love you too, Violetta.”

And she was off to sleep.

Copia carefully stood up, trying not to wake the sleeping girl, and walked to the closet to grab a blanket. He picked up something else as well: a small rat plushie he had been saving for her birthday. He figured he would give it to her now, so she could have a Bestie Pestie of her own. After placing the large blanket over her, he tucked the stuffed animal snugly beside her.

Copia sat beside her on the couch, scrolling online to find a new birthday present for her. He settled on a Barbie airplane that would make a divine private jet for Señor Joe and Colette.

Just after he pressed “order”, he heard a knock on the door and its soft squeak as it opened.

“How cute.” You said quietly, entering his room and seeing your daughter sleeping peacefully on the couch.

Terzo, rather than commenting on the sheer adorableness of his baby girl as he normally would, decided to torment his brother.

“Ay ay ay, I trusted you, mio fratello, with my sweet and precious daughter, only for you to allow her to rot her mind in front of a screen.” Terzo said facetiously, gesturing to the paused television, placing his hand on his forehead with an exaggerated sigh.

Copia, although accustomed to his brother’s persistent sarcasm, was petrified at the idea of rotting his niece’s brain. His facial expression was one of terror, and he immediately began spewing out a plethora of apologies until you gently stepped in.

“Don’t worry about it, Copia.” you affirmed him. “He’s just being Terzo.” you continued, playfully slapping your husband lightly on his arm.

“Is that so bad?” Terzo continued, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” You responded, a smile and a soft blush creeping up on your face as your banter went back and forth, words slurring together.

Yeah, clearly it was a fun and not-so-sober night out. Good for you guys. Being a parent couldn’t be easy.

Noticing Copia awkwardly gazing around the room, you decided to spare your brother-in-law from your flirting, something your husband would never do.

“She always loves spending time with you.” you said, walking up to the couch and scooping your daughter into your arms.

“Aw, what’s this?” you asked, looking down at the cute little rat friend Copia had given to her, kneeling down and picking it up.

“Tell her she now has her own Bestie Pestie.”

“Huh?” Terzo said, raising an eyebrow.

“Pesto. The rat’s name is Pesto. Therefore he is my bestie, Pestie. Bestie Pestie.”

You actually had to pass Violetta over to your husband, still holding on to the stuffed rat, because “Bestie Pestie” on top of the alcohol might make you collapse.

“Bestie Pestie?” you wheezed out, trying desperately not to make too much noise, tears welling up in your eyes as you held onto the wall for support.

Terzo chuckled and rolled his eyes at his dorky little brother.

“Thank you for watching her, Copia.” Terzo said, giving his brother a warm smile.

“Of course. I hope you two had fun.” he replied.

You waved goodbye to the Cardinal, still holding onto the stuffed animal. You might have to share custody of this thing with your daughter.

“Tell Bestie Pestie I said hello.” You said, stumbling out the door, laughing.

As Copia said, Terzo was lucky to be a Papa. Beyond lucky.

But he was also lucky to be something else as well. A brother. Copia’s brother.

And even if Copia’s heart broke a little during his conversation with his niece, envious of his brother and the joy that came with being somebody’s Papa, that would mean it was broken by love.

The best thing to be broken by.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i wrote this in one day which is utterly insane for me.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhh i’m so in love with uncle copia, lowkey trying not to cry in public right now, violetta’s story is expanding and new characters are coming!!!

thank you so much for reading!!!

if you have sent me a request, it is coming!!!

<3, alice