#and i heard a choir of angels

[beachyserasims]

For those who don’t know, Rowan started out his career early on as a model, representing brands for all the extreme sports he did. He hasn’t lost this skill… CLEARLY!

Beginning / Previous / Next

[angelsanctuarys]

what did you think about Perfume Of The Timeless!!

I personally liked it, I think it gives a small hint of what the whole album is going to be without making it super obvious. Which is the point of a single, to just give a taste, a nudge.

Also, mark my words, the song is not going to be the 1st of the list, there's going to be at least 1 behind it that will connect to those initial drums.

Sidenote but oh joy of joys on that 5:30 mark where finally we make a return to a much missed element that I was weeping for: letting emppu going berserk and bring those gorgeous heavy riffs back to life with enough force to revive the dead!

[909th]

swans has me saying crazy shit like yeah this song rlly picks up at the 18 minute mark and wow i love the way the glockenspiel comes in around the 37 minute mark woahhh

[111notstraight111]

[pukicho]

What's the weirdest dream/nightmare you've had?

Pukicho story time???

This happened in 2004, I lived in Ireland. I had one very particular dream that I still often think about to this day:

It started in an unusual flat, somewhere up high. It was modern for the time, it felt decidedly Y2K. Every piece of furniture, the walls, the lamps, they were all bright pink. It was so trendy that it almost felt like a parody of itself, but I was a kid, and my mind wasn't clever enough for the act of parody. I would've simply forgotten this flat ever existed if the latter-half of the dream didn't leave such a permanent mark on my memory - now I can recall every last detail.

I asked a stranger to use the restroom. The toilet was downstairs, so I opened up the door to a utility stairwell and began heading down, alone.

I could look through the center of the staircase column, it was pitch-black and there was no visible bottom. I remember going down the staircase for hours, literal hours - A dark, oppressive hum from pipes and vents blinded my ears and shook the inside of my stomach with its volume. I remember thinking how long the dream felt in this moment, I recall getting consciously impatient, but I kept going. My eyes couldn't adjust to the nearly invisible-darkness surrounding me so I put my hand against the walls and handrail for guidance and shuffled downward like a blind man without his walking-stick.

Finally, only a moment before the tension would have juddered me awake, I found the door to the bathroom. I opened it up; to my relief there was light. The room was rectangular, on one end was a boxed-shaped shower with fogged glass, on the other end, a toilet. The floor and wall were decorated by the same beige tile - it all looked hastily plastered. I sat down to do my business. At this moment, the ballooning anxiety I had felt outside had dissipated almost entirely. I sat in silence - I remember acknowledging the sheer contrast in volume between the AC-hum in the bathroom to the oppressive roar from the stairwell.

It was good to be sitting there. I remember feeling as though the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare - but consciously, everything felt right again. Nothing happened for a long time. It grew so boring and tame that my mind stopped focusing on the dream entirely, and I began fading into memoryless sleep. And then the lights went out.

At this point, sitting in a darkness even blacker than the one I had just emerged from, not even a hum could be heard. The only noise I could hear, and just barely, was my own brain-matter hitting against the sides of my ears, bellowing a deep subharmonic hum from within my own skull. Suddenly, every semblance of safety was ripped from my chest, and I sat there, feeling in greater danger than I ever had before. I felt a pressure so omniscient that it choked me -- but nothing came, nothing happened. I waited for minutes - minutes where each second could be counted down in scrutinizing specificity, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, and with no presumption, I felt coarse electricity pumping through my chest. I wrangled with myself in my own bed, feeling what felt like infinite pain pass through me. I could feel myself yelling from within the dream through the vibration of my lungs. A cacophonous buzzing bled into my ears as thousands of people screamed from within my skull. The cries of a falling choir ran-through their screams, like angels falling from heaven.

At the very same moment, a body appeared in the shower. It glowed yellow, so bright and irradiated I could hardly look directly at it. It caressed itself, clawing into its body like it was reeling from immeasurable pain. It moved unnaturally, squirming and spasming as if fast-forwarded. The glass blurred its details, but it did nothing to mask its energy. It was as if it held the sun inside of its own stomach. I felt as though an intruder entered my own mind and I had no power to stop it. Just being near it was enough to kill me, and I was already dying.

The wall of sound lasted not even one full-second - and then - a piercing zap shot me up from my bed, and that was it. I can't remember anything past that point, but I assume I went back to bed shortly thereafter, forgetting what had just happened, if only for that one night. I must have had a vapid dream, worthless and memoryless, unknowing that I had just lived a dream so dreadful that it'd stick to my psyche like tar for the rest of my life.

No other dream has ever felt that way since. It was as if a second-soul decided to visit me, a soul stronger and more omnipotent than mine. Surely a dream is just a dream, regardless of the feeling it gives you, but now I go to bed every night, wishing I'll be the only soul residing within its story.

End!!

[thesingingrevolution]

hbd best song ever

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

MASTER LIST OF INSTRUMENTAL PLAYLISTS FOR WRITING (OR FOR STUDYING, MAKING ART, ETC.)

I find that the perfect writing playlist can GREATLY enhance the writing experience. Even if it doesn't make your writing "better" (which it can, since it helps writers with visualization, tone, and mood), it can definitely make your writing flow easier!

Personally, words distract me when I'm writing, either by breaking my train of thought or by getting me too into the music so that I'm jamming out to my favorite tunes instead of writing.

Therefore, I've amassed a vast knowledge of instrumental music across a variety of media over a course of many years. Now here I am, deciding to share all of them with you!

Maddy’s Favorite Instrumental Songs

Just like the title says. All of the best pieces of instrumental music I've ever heard, compiled together with no regard for genre. It can be a bit of a whiplash playlist, but some amazing recs in there that I just like listening to in my free time, not just for writing.

Maddy’s Ultimate Instrumental Playlist

A mega compilation of 550+ fantastic instrumental music from a variety of media and genres. Kind of a whiplash playlist if you put it on shuffle, but is a great start for anyone looking to find what kind of instrumental music they like! Playlist Groupings in Order: Independent instrumental songs, live action movies, animated movies, animated tv shows, live action tv shows, video games.

Maddy's Instrumental for Sleep

Some more chill vibe instrumental for people who either A) want to sleep or B) want a relaxed playlist that won't distract you with loud volume and sudden changes in tempo or melody.

MISC PLAYLISTS:

you're a haggard adventurer discovering worlds beyond your wildest dreams

Music to inspire wonder and wanderlust, the kind of feeling you get when you finally reach the end of a mountain hike and see the world stretching out before you.

you're a hero who's just lost everything

Basically the most sad instrumental music I could find. A playlist for grief and revenge.

more beneath the cut :)

you're a cowboy in the great American West

Cowboy instrumental for all of your ambient and writing needs. Or if you just really want to feel like a cowboy.

you're a divine witness

Epic choir music (no English). Most religious, some not, but all kind of have that eerie sacred vibe. I listen to this while writing my book about angels and demons.

you’re a scholar uncovering the secrets of the universe

Great chill study playlist! Has the kind of same exploratory/discovery type feel as the haggard adventurer playlist, but more dark academia.

you’re a villain plotting to take over the world

Villain-coded instrumental! Sinister, dark, and/or unsettling.

you're an academic weapon

HIGH BPM STUDY PLAYLIST! Keeps me focused, hyped, and helps me work faster!

you're an ancient god

Playlist that gives an ancient/eerie vibe. But some ancient gods are merciful- so there are some upbeat songs for wonder and awe!

you're falling in love

Music that encapsulates what I think falling in love feels like. Very beautiful, tender, and uplifting instrumental.

you're fighting the final battle

Intense and epic battle music for all of your fight-scene-writing needs! Good for getting shit done, but isn't necessarily restricted to high BPM like the academic weapon playlist.

you're having a tea party

Refined instrumental for a tea party, including classical, big band, and some miscellaneous goodies.

you're in a chase scene

Music for writing chase scenes. Pretty good hype music, too. Includes soundtracks from classic chase scenes in popular media!

you're in the medieval times

Medieval-sounding music for all of your ambient and/or writing needs.

you’re in your childhood room. the door is open a crack. people talk softly downstairs.

A playlist dedicated to nostalgia, to the feeling of lying in bed with your nightlight on after being too tired to stay awake at your family get-together. Could either make your day or break your heart lmao

you're the happiest you've ever been

Lighthearted instrumental meant to lift your spirits! A playlist dedicated to the joys of the little things.

[elizais]

"so, for once in my life.. let me get what i want."

jouno saigiku x fem!reader drabble lovesick jouno, jouno NEEDS more fans other than me warnings: none all fluff, reader met jouno after he lost his vision

jouno desperately wanted to sleep, his body yearned for sleep.. but his mind was too crowded. how the beautiful lady was laying on the bed next to him, holding the stuffed animal he bought her based off of how soft it was when they first started dating.

her heartbeat was prettier than the sound of a choir of angels singing to him. a sound he could point out in a room full of thunderous voices. how could someone so kind choose him?

although he was content with all his other senses being heightened, he wished he met you before he lost his vision. how he would perfectly describe the colour of your eyes if he could.

every night it escaped him how you adored him more than anyone. how a soft stuffed animal was your replacement for him since cuddling was too overwhelming for his senses. how your sugary voice only referred to him as "sai". even when he was being frustrating.

why would he, a former criminal, be so fortunate for a person like you? who searched the ends of the earth (online websites) for replacements of his incredibly old clothes which he only kept because he knew what they looked like. when his favourite graphic tee got a rip in it you found another for him.

how when you were walking through the city with him you gasped as a car drove past, one that you really liked. "sai! y'know your old sweater with the old BMW on? one like that but green drove by!" a day out you must have long forgotten about yet he remembered very well as you went through great effort to explain what it looked like to him.

despite how much he hated tecchou's food combinations, when you met tecchou you tried your absolute best to like them. incredibly worried to earn the respect of your new boyfriend (at the time)'s colleagues. now whenever tecchou comes up with a new one tecchou tells jouno to tell you about it. jouno does not tell you.

perhaps it is the fact that you cut his hair when it gets too long for him to deal with. gently trimming it every couple of weeks.

maybe when you saw how mean he could be to the other hunting dogs you scolded him in front of them, his colleague's giggling as they found his weakness. you. now whenever he was being particularly nasty to them, you would get a phone call to out your boyfriend in his place.

perchance it was that you asked him what colour his eyes were after knowing him as a friend for a few months. although he never opened his eyes from light sensitivity, he made an exception for you. opening his eyelids and putting up with the harsh light for a few seconds as he heard your heartbeat speed up, admiring his eyes. albeit whatever they looked like now.

or, after a monthly surgery you would stay with jouno for the whole time he had to rest. jouno being so out of it he just wants to cuddle, something you cherish. he knows you adore those times so even when he starts to get his senses back, he will give you a few more hours of sleep with him on a small hospital bed.

his thoughts paused for a second as he heard your muscles contract as you changed sleeping positions. he heard the stuffed animal fall out of your arms as you rolled. he was too comfortable to get out of bed for it but noticed your arms looking for it in your sleep. he heard and felt the vibrations of your arm patting around for it on the bed.

he sighed before moving closer to you, quietly moving an arm out for your arms to hold onto instead. pulling his stray arm to your chest in your sleep, a quiet hum escaped your lips.

your arms wrapped around his bicep, something that pulled him closer to sleep after having his senses adjust to it. he would not bring this up in the morning.

with all those memories, he can't pinpoint when the moment he knew he loved you was. he was just happy he even knew you.

for once in his life, he had gotten what he wanted. lord knows it was the first time.

ughhhh he makes me so anhwahawbkhry4yiaw

the new bsd chapter coming out will have jouno ALIVE AND WELL. if not asagiri has me to respond to. no body no death. anyways everyone needs to write for the hunting dogs more please and thank you!!

jouno needs more fans like i know he is a bit of a red flag but red is the colour of my blogg soooo... match made in heaven <33

also did you see where i added perchance. you can't just say perchance!!

reblogs are appreciated so so so much!!

[anouchard]

How did you come to work specifically for Rusty Quill? Did you pass through some sort of agency, or emailed them, or won a contest? Did a golden light fall upon you as you heard a choir of angels, before being bestowed with such a path? Oh, and how did you react?

Sent an e-mail.

Did an audition.

Became a Bouchard.

Certainly felt like the last one of those, though. I read the e-mail from @rq-producerperson and cried at a bus stop. Then messaged my best friend and parents. Then went to work and pretended nothing had happened.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

La~La~la 🦇 anon here with a sagau idea!

I don't play genshin with sound on, I always have my headphones on and sing to some songs while I play witch got me thinking.....

What if reader started singing viva la vida/once upon a december or another song really well and it just so happened that they had characters who are really musical like venti Barbra and xinyan in their party?

It would start out really sweet like them complimenting their creators voice and vibing along, then turn into them trying to write songs that are more like our modern ones!

Venti accidentally inventing an acoustic ballad or smthn (I used almost all my spoons for the first half..)

xinyan making an unholy amalgamation of classic and rock

And Barbra trying out new scales while writing songs about the creator who has the voice of an angel and godly pitch

For a good idea of what I'm thinking try listening to, Viva La Vida (orchestral version) from annapantsu!

(Feel free to add )

OHOHOHOHOHO, 🦇 ANON YOU ARE COOKING.

I need to start crawling out of my hole and listen to the song you're recommending to me ASAP—holy cow, I live under a mountain at this rate (I'm like Azhdaha bro this is NOT good 😭 Watch me run with this blindly bc I keep FORGETTING to listen to the recommendations 🦇 Anon is sending me—)

I won't add any other characters, since the selection you have is already good!

Venti, Barbara, and Xinyan Wanna Jam, Too!

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

WISP BOI SHOOKETH. HE IS WHOOPING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS. MONDSTADT IS GOING CRAZY WITH THIS BARD IN TOWN GOING AROUND ABOUT THE CREATOR—

All jokes aside, he's over the moon to know that about your singing and your song preference. I feel like Venti would try to make his version of the songs you sing :D

By the time you meet in person, man's hands down worshipping your singing like his LIFE depends on it.

"Oh, Your Grace! Please sing your songs for all of Mondstadt to enjoy!" You can hear the literal excitement practically radiating in his voice.

He's very stoked and will sing along if you do decide to sing. Watch him brag this to the other archons (cough Zhongli and Ei mainly cough)

Barbara

The moment she heard the Almighty Creator sing, she thought both you and Barbatos blessed her. I mean, the winds, carrying your voice, to her?!

She's utterly shocked. She doesn't know if she's worthy of hearing your voice—But Barbara loves your voice! Of course the Almighty Creator would have the best voice of all of Teyvat!

She once caught herself humming the song you were singing to previously in the Church of Barbatos. Barbara was so embarrassed because the others managed to catch her humming that strange tune.

When you came around, Barbara was immediately the first one to ask you to sing—albeit a little timidly.

"Y-Your Grace! Uhm...Is it possible if you allow us Nuns at the Church to...hear you sing? Of course, you don't have to agree! We can sing the song ourselves if you wish!" Barbara just really wants to let you know that Mondstadt worships and adores you.

She would definitely make a choir version of the songs you sing. Be prepared to be invited and no, you're insisted to come. By everyone. :)

Xinyan

The first moment she heard you jam, she was loving it! Utterly loves the genre of music she hears from you!

From where she grew up (Liyue), there were some people that were very picky with their taste in music and usually called her rock'n roll a ruckus. To hear you sing something without a care in the world to a song that doesn't really fit to the usual old geezer's standards was utterly refreshing!

Sometimes, when she's given the honor of the stage, she would perform some performances to you and perform a rock'n roll version of the songs you sing. She has a musician's ears after all, she would remember how the riffs go and remix them to fit her style.

When you arrive, you better go out and listen! Xinyan would absolutely credit you and (if your up to it) sing alongside you!

"Haha, Your Grace! You're here—wanna hear my rock'n roll version of your songs?" She's good at remixing, it's almost unfair—

Yeah, none of them realize any of the songs you sang weren't your creation. Good luck explaining to them :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: WHY AM I TAKE 3 ETERNITIES TO WRITE EVERYTHING SOBBING. WHERE IS MY MOTIVATION OFF RUNNING TO ISTG—

Ahem, anyways—I hope you guys liked it :D I'm currently facing a bit of a time crunch atm so my response to requests will be even slower than it already is :') Sorry about that. I hope you guys love this post, though!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[hellish-sunsets]

You're an Asshole - Pt 1 - How it Started

AN: should I focus on my requests or ongoing pics? Yes. Am a writing an Adam x fem!angel!reader where he becomes better out of pure spite? Obviously. Anyways enjoy!

Warnings: lots of swearing

Wordcount: 1,089

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You're an asshole.”

It was a phrase Adam had heard uttered time and time again with anger imbued in every syllable. Over the thousands of years that passed, not once did that phrase ever bother him. Because he was right, wasn't he? He was Adam, the first man, made to be perfect by the angel's hands themselves. Everyone else could think what they want, it changed nothing about who he was. Even if that knowledge led to the same pride that felled Lucifer, even if this line of thought brought him to the very same sins he condoned the sinners in hell for.

But she called him an asshole, and despite all his ego, or maybe because of it, it hurt. There was no anger behind the words, no hurt. Perhaps there was the faintest trace of sadness, but more than that it was a cold fact. The clouds were white, the sky sat above and the ground below, and Adam the first man was an asshole. 

And for some reason he couldn't comprehend, it ate at him. At first he was angry. He cursed her out, spouted whatever vile and venomous words he could think of. How dare she think so little of him? HIM? He was ADAM, dammit! How dare she? Even after the two separated, he ranted and raved for days until even Lute was getting tired of his bitching, not to mention the others who had the displeasure of being around him at this time.

But then he got quiet, and that was even more terrifying. Adam and quiet did not mean anything good. 

He stayed in his office longer and longer, thinking. Why did it bother him so much? Why was he still thinking about it? That woman, why did her opinion matter so much to him?

He went over the facts to himself, trying to break down what bothered him so much. She was an angel, made in heaven for heaven, part of the heavenly choir. He had never met her before that day, had only heard her voice occasionally. He… supposed he liked her singing, even if the songs were a bit more pansy than his usual rock and roll. Some were pretty hard core, he guessed, just in a different, less angry way. He heard in some passing whispers that she went to various concerts often, but he had never seen her at one of his. 

When he had seen her at his concert that day, he had been… excited? Like her presence was some sort of validation. Not that he needed any fucking shitty validation, especially some pompous stuck up bitch of an angel. Still, he thought it would be fun to talk to her. He can’t even remember what they had talked about, he probably flirted cause hey, a bitch is a bitch. He could hit that. 

But then she called him an asshole, those big eyes staring into his like she was reaching into his very soul, seeing every part of his being and evaluating him as less than good. 

Then he called a meeting with hell, giving a rather… mediocre reason, something he clearly made up and no one remembered. Only two attended the meeting and neither was about to discuss what transpired there. Well, Adam wasn’t about to tell anyone in heaven. Even Lute wasn’t permitted to come with. And Lucifer was too much of a recluse to tell much of anybody.

For his part, Lucifer played along the best he could. He despised when heaven called him to meetings, the feeling paired with anxiety when Adam was there. He went because he had to, but the anxiety was eating him up inside. 

His footsteps on the tile floor echoed through the embassy like gunshots, making him cringe. 

At first, he thought the meeting room would be empty. It was too quiet, and Adam was always too loud, his voice carrying throughout the building, but when he got there he didn’t hear Adam at all. And yet, when he opened the meeting room door, Adam was in fact there. He furrowed his brow at the sight of the man sitting quietly, reading a paper he had in front of him, pen idly tapping against the table. Lucifer frowned and took his seat, the scrape of the chair legs against the tile reverberating through the room. 

A few moments passed before Adam put his paper down, pen clasped between two fingers, and leaned back in his chair. 

“So… this should be a fun meeting for you.” He said, tone… very, very carefully even. It sent an eerie chill down his spine, his scowl deep. This was very unlike Adam, and it concerned him. It felt like something terrible was about to happen and he just didn’t know it yet.

“Right, and that would be because…”

“I am sitting my ass here in front of you, asking you to shit talk me.” Adam said, and Lucifer's mind stuttered for a moment, staring blankly at the first man as he scribbled something else on his paper and looked back up with that stupid mask of his. “Just, like, be fucking honest about it. I asked Lute first, she was a real bitch about it. Figured you’d also be a little bitch about it.”

There was a heavy pause. Lucifer stared at him, just as confused as before. Adam's mask glitches slightly before settling on irritation.

“...but why?”

Adam gave an exaggerated sigh, voice condescending like it had to be obvious and Lucifer was the stupid one for not getting it.

“Because! That fucking bitch! She called me an asshole. Me! And I was told she was chill to hang with. Fucking bullshit! Now I've got a point to prove! I can be fucking nice. I can be downright delightful! I'll fucking show her! So, dipshit, tell me what makes me an asshole.”

“There it is.” Lucifer said with an exhausted sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He though a moment, a twisted sort of smile slowly spreading over his face. “How much time do we have?”

When Adam returned from his meeting, he was in an absolutely foul mood. His anger radiated off of him and affected everyone he passed like a fog of irritation. But he had his stupid fucking list, crumbled in his fist, ink smudged but still readable.

He would show that fucking stuck up bitch! He would be the most fucking delightful bastard in all of fucking creation, or fucking die trying!

[justpoliteconversations]

Comfort [Mer!Warriors + Reader]

All it takes is a single moment for everything you think you know to flip on its head.

I originally had different plans for this AU continuation, but I came across a post of someone asking for a comfort fic and thought I'd try.

Masterlist

Part: 1 / 2

TW: Maybe? Hard to tell sometimes.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

It had been a long day. Between back breaking work and the weariness of too long spent fighting to maintain your composure, the weight of all your hardships seemed to have finally caught up to you. You were just so tired, but even the promise of escape sleep offered seemed impossible to achieve.

Not with this overly spoiled creature screeching (elegantly, somehow. God damned elegantly. like a fully accompanied angel's choir) for your attention. As though this was something you two routinely did (for the record, it wasn't. you didn't know what his damned problem was). And ignoring him wasn't working, as it was going on the second hour now and he had somehow only gotten louder.

You honestly just wanted to cry. You just wanted to sleep.

You just wanted a break that didn't make you feel guilty. Guilty for not wanting to live up to everyone's expectations for once. For just wanting to sit down, eat something horrendously unhealthy, and then maybe nap for a few hours before dinner. And then go right back to sleep without everyone expecting you to fix every damned problem that blew their way.

The perfect day (but it wouldn't be. not really. because you couldn't even imagine closing your eyes when there was still so much to do). And it was being thoroughly destroyed (it was never something that existed anyway) by the unceasing, unholy (ethereal) screeching of the Center's resident golden boy.

How the mer knew just when to start acting up when no one but you was around, you'd probably never know. But it was damned concerning, and annoying. Especially when he decided to be difficult. Like now (oh God. why'd it have to be now when you were at your lowest).

You'd give in eventually, you knew. It was inevitable, and both him and you knew this. You couldn't afford to leave him to his own devices for too long, especially when he had a habit of taking out his frustration on your co-workers when ignored (and not even in an obvious way either. but underhandedly. like 'accidently' splashing water on their phones and equipment during his more enthusiastic performances).

You heard his screech again, but this time you could hear the low edge that entered his cry. Like the threat of a blade gliding delicately under a silk cloth, smooth and lilting and deadly in its sharpness. A dark, foreboding promise all wrapped up in a beautiful symphony of sweet nothings.

"I'm coming! Just give me a moment!" You finally called out, wincing at the way your voice nearly wobbled. Frustration and exhaustion mixing together into a singular moment of weakness.

It was silent then, and a form of primeval dread filled your stomach at the sudden stillness in the air. Because there was no way he hadn't heard the shake of your voice, nor the emotions that caused it. There was absolutely no way he didn't realize how vulnerable you were at the moment.

Numb. Suddenly, you were numb all over. From your ears to your toes, you could feel the cold pinprick of tingling nothingness itching just below your skin. But through it all, even as your feet took you to the bottom of War's tank ladder, you felt oddly detached from your body.

Ah. You were afraid. As tired and as emotionally drained as you were, you still somehow managed to drudge up enough self-preservation to be afraid of Wars. And you weren't sure how to feel about that. You hadn't really thought about it in a long time. Just how much power he now had over you, after that fateful day you'd come to his tank and cut him a deal.

You still didn't want to think about it. You just wanted to get this over with and go to sleep. You didn't even care that you'd regret this later, when you could finally think past the numbness that had settled over your limbs.

And there he was, from one step on the ladder to the next. Quiet, still as death and submerged up to his eeriely shining, dilated eyes in the dark water of his sleeping tank. The inky blackness of the night around him fading the long, billowing ends of his fins into a smoky wisp of shimmering starlight.

You'd forgotten how beautiful he was at night, when the faint luminescence of his fins and scales ran golden fireflies across the darkened navy of his elegant blue fins. How his enchanting, predatory eyes caught even the faintest hints of starlight and built entire galaxies along the darks of them. How he smiled so prettily when he rose from the water, even if you knew it was a lie (fake. dangerous).

The smile was different this time though. There was something sharper about it, so similar yet so different from the charming upturn of plush lips he so often used to entice the unwary into his clutches.

It was enough to unnerve you, this unknown expression that had settled so distinctly upon his pretty face. Enough even to pull you from your exhausted haze and into something almost approaching alertness. Your nerves firing with renewed unease, even several meters above the water and (allegedly, though you didn't believe that for a second) out of War's reach.

And then he lifted a single, elegant hand. Raised a single, elegant finger. And beckoned you to him in a gesture so human it nearly drew a blush to your cheeks (much to your shame).

If you ever discovered who taught him that gesture, you'd skin them yourself. You swore it. But that was for later, because right then you were frozen in shock. Not even because of the connotations behind such a gesture while an attractive male such as him was behind it.

No. It was the meaning behind the gesture.

"No." You said, so pumped full of adrenaline you didn't even feel the exhaustion that'd been weighing down your bones just moments before. "I'm not that far gone, Wars. No matter what you think you heard."

His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, condescending and frustrated both. Flickering. Dilating. Contracting.

It would be almost funny, to see a mer as smug and put together as Wars showing anything other than slight annoyance (and honestly, it usually is). But right now, with the darkness closing in from all sides and the weight of everything haunting your every step, it was a reminder. A reminder that for all you had managed to keep your composure around this predator, you were still afraid.

You were afraid. And you always had been. From the moment you set eyes on him and knew (just knew, when no one else could see it) that this creature was hunting you and everyone else around him. Even bloodied and mangled and trapped as he was, he had never stopped hunting. That he watching you, just as you were watching him. Always.

He gestured again, tilting his head slightly. Another gesture that sent warning signals straight into your brain, causing your breathing to pick up and a light sheen of cold sweat to start forming on your shoulders, back and forehead. His eyes had fully dilated by now as well, adding an even more alien quality to his unnaturally beautiful features.

You swallowed, trapped between your self-preservation instincts screaming at you to turn tail and run, and the logic of your mind quietly reminding you that this predator would have killed you already had he wanted (that he could kill someone else too, if he felt the need to call your bluff). Because he would. You knew that. Accidents happened all the time. What was one more? (He'd probably fake tears too. the bastard.)

You glanced off to the side, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end under his unnatural stare. "Wars I- You know that's not how this works."

You were met with silence. You were too shaken (too compromised) to even think of meeting his gaze. The sharp, unfaltering, stunningly inhuman gaze.

The faint rippling of water. A slight swoosh. And then.

A great, echoing splash. The catwalk under you shaking and nearly tilting as a great weight was suddenly upon it. The flash of shimmering gold across a sea of dark blue. And suddenly he was in your face, so close you could see the ring of blue, blue, blue encircling the dark pools of his eyes.

You couldn't move. You couldn't scream. You couldn't even breathe. Not when he leaned further into your space (so close now you could see the glitter of scales under his eyes. like gold dust). Not when a clawed, webbed hand came up to your fear stricken face. Not when your skin touched for the first time (warm. soft. supple. nothing like your mind had always imagined it).

Not when his powerful (deadly. predator's. killer's) arms gently (so gently. almost tenderly. but that can't be it because he's him and you're you) pulled you into his chest. Not when he pulled you both down until he was laying along the catwalk with you laying flush on top of him. And not when he buried his face (his mouth. his lips. his teeth. teeth. teeth.) into your hair and just...breathed.

In. Out. In. Out. Steady. Even. Inevitable. His large, warm hands on your back, claws delicately kneading into your clothes. His chest rumbling, so faint you'd have missed it entirely had you not been tucked up under his chin (had he not been pressing you into the place in his chest the vibrations were strongest).

Slowly, your breath returned to you. You began to calm. Your mind begun to clear. And you realized, with sudden clarity, what it was that was happening. What this behavior was.

The gentle nipping at your hair. The tender kneading of his (sharp) claws into the thick ruffles of your clothes. The way he had cradled your significantly smaller body into his larger form and curled his silky (thick, powerful) tail fins around you as best he could with so little space.

The way his whole chest seemed to vibrate. The sound so low it was nearly nonexistent. An action you hadn't known Wars was even capable of, let alone willing to utilize. For a human of all things.

You swallowed, not daring to take your eyes off the gleam of his collarbone (shimmering, even in the dark). "Are you trying to comfort me?"

He pushed you harder into his chest, under his chin. His face nuzzling deeper into your hair, until his mouth was pressed softly against the shell of your ear. His hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin.

"Mine." He cooed (disjointed and raw, unnatural but hauntingly beautiful), one hand having found its way up into the fine hairs at your nape. Just holding them between gentle fingers, thumb caressing your exposed neck. "Strong. Brave." He hummed.

He nosed at the delicate lining of your ear. Nuzzling you. "Beautiful." He purred, pulling away just enough to force you to meet his eyes. His gaze so black you saw yourself reflected in them. "Always mine. Give me. Everything bad."

Looking into his liquid night, blue-mooned eyes. Feeling his hands cradling you protectively, possessively, trying to separate you from the world beyond. You finally understood. Everything.

Wars was territorial after all. Of his space. Of his food. Of his resources. Of anything, everything that was his. That he'd claimed.

Knowing that, how could you have forgotten the most important resource a mer can ever possess? When it had been staring you in the face this whole time?

Warmth began to build behind your eyes, and try as you might, you felt the gates you had held so tightly closed for so long beginning to slip from your grasp. And you just couldn't believe it. That this was really about to happen.

In front of Wars of all creatures. The one predator that had everyone fooled.

But that was the thing, wasn't it. From the very beginning, for all his smiles and sweet nothings, never had he truly tried to hide his fangs from you. Never you. Even as he kept the rest of the world at an arms length away.

He had let you in (had reeled you in). He had let you see (had forced you to see) the dark shaded colors of his heart. His truest self.

Honesty, completely and utterly, from a creature that thrives off deception. How could you have been so blinded by your fear you'd not noticed.

The first few tears finally escaped down the curve of your cheek, and when a gentle, tender, loving thumb came to wipe them away. You broke, and it all came pouring out. In the arms of the predator you still feared so much, but knew, without question, would never allow harm to befall you.

Because he is a territorial mer. And there is nothing a mer covets more than their pod. Their family. Their reason for everything else that follows after.

And Wars, the mer who never wanted to leave. Who, after all was said and done, was still a mer like any other. Had no one but you. Only you. By choice. By fate.

By design.

You'd been hunted. And you'd been caught. And now he would never let you go. And he would protect you from everything.

For as long as he lived.

---

Back to the shadows.

[babybatss-blog]

EUPHORIA

Link (TOTK) x f!reader, 700 words

Summary: Your dancing at the stable drives Link to a strange realisation.

Cw: written from 3rd persons pov, therefore y/n is used lots. Implied mental health issues in reader.

A picture-perfect serenity, with smoke bellowing out the nose of a cartoonish horse shaped tent, adorned with colourful reds and blues and purples of cloth flowing throughout where Y/n and Link are tonight. This scenic location appears to be the pure definition of stillness, the only sound being the rushing water in a river and the crickets chirping in the grass.

That is until you get closer, and suddenly the true reality unveils itself.

A cacophony of sounds is heard, such as guitar, singing and laughter, displaying happiness between the party of unlikely friends. At New Serene Stable the full moon is high as the many guests gather around singing folk songs passed down through generations of Hyrule, some even Link knows from his 100 years in the past. Link sit’s next to y/n at the campfire, listening to her angelic singing in a choir with the others.

“The seas are calm and blue, so welcoming anew.

The sky a piece of pie, soft and warm tonight.

The captain soars off in his boat its as if he can fly!”

This song invokes a weak memory within Link, a vision of the past where his father sang the very song to him in his tiny bed. It was made of straw, but he slept peacefully after hearing the soothing voice. Y/n on the other hand, remembers it in a very different way. Her classmates would go to the beach and scream the song at the top of their lungs to the boats passing by, giggling and doing cartwheels on the scorching sand. She sometimes wished that she could be a sailor herself, escaping towards a new adventure across the hypnotising ocean.

“The chef cooks up a storm, its tasty in this form.

Its lettuce tastes like water and without it you’re forlorn!”

One old man claps to the beat, swaying with a wide smile. Y/n immediately joins in with the others, an enthusiastic clap coming from them. Link subtly turns towards Y/n, noticing the twinkle in her eyes due to the campfire and pure joy collectively. A thought crosses his mind on how he wishes to see them in this state a million times again, but he pushes it away due to the pit quickly forming in his stomach.

Y/n leans towards Link whispering in his ear intimately. “You don’t know the words?” She asks, seeing a nervous smile appear on his face. “I know the words. I just, don’t like to sing.” He admits. She giggles at his embarrassment, half shocked and half endeared by this confession. They are so different, but also so intertwined in each other. Suddenly, she stands up along with a couple of little kids, who hold hands around the campfire. Y/n turns over her shoulder to look at Link, a grin on her face. “Join us?” He fervently shakes his head in response, seemingly repulsed by the idea. Y/n merely laughs, beginning to spin with the kids to the words resounding in the stable.

“Oh my Hylia said to me, this is where your meant to be.

A captain, chef, and a happy team all like a family!”

Y/n soon feels dizzy, hand in hand with ecstatic children that run around like monkeys. Despite this, her laughter is resounding, a brown skirt flowing in her movements. Truthfully, no matter how happy she is she wishes that Link would join her. Her eyes lock with his momentarily as she stands opposite from him, and some strange moment of connection ensues. She sees him as the nervous child too scared to make a move, and he sees her as the woman hiding away a deep seeding pain within. But they also see a beauty, one that they would never see in themselves but should as it shows their true selves.

And Link wonders… Why is this woman so perfect? Her hair flowing, her cheeks blushed and teeth shining are the definition of unadulterated joy, something he craves forever more.

Is this… Love?

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Older Times

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, Adultery, mentions of forced prostitution, prostitution, fem!reader (Ghost and Graves only)

Summary: A few short little drabbles of a few Call of Duty characters in older times, particular around the times of kings and queens everywhere.

Characters: Price, Ghost, Gaz, Graves

Word Count: 1899 Words

Concubine x King!Price

“Will you see her tonight?” You ask him when he slips out from beneath the covers, back turned to you and spine rigid as he grabs his clothes from off of the floor. So ready to leave as if he hadn’t just spent the better part of the last few hours buried between your thighs, cock buried inside of you and dumping his seed deep inside when he was done. He didn’t need to ask who you meant. You didn’t care to clarify either.

“She is my wife.” He whispers to you, like you needed to be reminded of that fact. As if the thought didn’t keep you up at night, as if it didn’t plague you all day when you sat in this bed and waited for him to come back to you. Like you didn’t envy her for all the ways she got to be with him in the light, when your time with him could only ever be in the night. “It is expected that I will stay with her some nights. Try to make a few heirs to carry on my line. It is nothing new to you.”

You hum, reaching your hand out and grasping for his wrist, your words a solemn plea. Eyes drowned in sorrow. He wouldn’t look at you, because he knew what he would see. He knew he’d look inside your sad eyes and he’d stay, when he was demanded elsewhere. When he had duties to fulfill to someone he didn’t want. Someone he could never want, when you held all the keys to his heart in the palm of your hand.

“I love you.” You whisper, making him throw his head back with a curse before burying his face between his calloused hands. Defeated, and all torn up inside. Like your words were a butcher’s knife, and you were just slashing around under his skin. Like your sad voice was killing him more than any sword or lance could ever attempt to do.

“I love you too.” He sighed, his voice cracking at the end. And then he got up, kicked on his rugged leather boots and loosely shrugged on his shirt, leaving you all alone in this bed. The bed you always shared with him, when he came to you. Silk sheets sliding smoothly against your skin as you turned over in the bed, just so you wouldn’t have to see the door as it swung close. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks when you heard the click of the door as it shut behind him.

Knowing you were his, but he could never be yours.

Adulterous Queen x Knight!Ghost

Guilt. The feeling hung heavy in Simon’s heart as he held your legs around his waist, feeling them shake with every inward thrust, your quivering moans reverberating in his ears like the music of angels. The creaking of the bed like a violin, the squelch of your insides like a drum. A beautiful composition, meant to reel him in and drown him, a siren song to lure him to his death. A deserved one, that he rushed towards eagerly like a green boy in his first battle.

“Simon.” And oh, your voice. He’d heard a thousand symphonies played for his king, and for you, but none could ever match the beauty of his queen moaning his name like that. Not even heaven’s own choir could fill him up with such bliss. “Simon, more.”

“I’ll always give you as much as you want.” He panted, hot and wild against your lips, bucking harder and faster in a way that made you tighten up so deliciously for him. His word was his law, except apparently not when it came to those he’d said to his king. The words he’d sworn the day he was knighted, to defend him and keep his trust. But now here he lay, an oathbreaker as he plowed into his King’s wife, with the promise to fill her belly full of the seed leaking from his aching tip. And he wondered, briefly, if that seed would take root in your womb and give his king an heir with his brown eyes. A thought that nearly made him spill.

Backstabber. Deceiver. Oathbreaker.

“Simon.” Your voice called through the waves of his lust. He could feel your legs tensing, could see the whites of your eyes as your pupils rolled back into your head and your back arched off of the mattress. TIghter strung then any bow hung up in the armory. “Simon!”

“My Queen.” Was his returning words as he laid himself atop you, his full weight pressing you back down, his lips sealing against yours to swallow those beautiful noises that would one day, without a doubt, put his head on a spike as a warning to all others. He doubted it would work, when your smile was like sunshine, and your voice was akin to that of a mermaid’s song drifting across the sea. You were a temptress, sin given form. No man could resist.

Especially not him. Never him.

“I love you.” Were the words that finally snapped the coil in his belly, and he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, staring at your eyes and the glimmering tears that dripped from them. And he knew that hellfire awaited him for his transgression, but it was worth it all to be here with you. To hold you. To love you.

Knight x Squire!Gaz

“Something troubling you?” Your voice asks, breaking him out of his train of thought, brown eyes snapping up to yours. Your training sword was lowered, as was your voice, concern bleeding through the normally tough exterior of his mentor. “You seem out of it today. Are you ill?”

“No.” Kyle insists, shaking his head rapidly. Perhaps a bit too fast judging by the way you narrow your eyes at him. “Just….getting caught up in my own head. I’m sorry.” He says, like one would discuss concerns of rain or heat, and not that his thoughts were of you on your hands and knees as he feeds you his cock from behind.

Your eyes tell him that you’re unconvinced but you don’t question him again, but your gaze follows him all throughout the rest of the day. Boring into his skull, like you had notched an arrow and loosed it straight into his brain, scrambling his thoughts that were barely there before. Draining him of all his wits and replacing them with visions of you eyeing his cock with that same look of haughty disappointment you gave him whenever you knocked him down into the dirt. His prick always gave a few telltale twitches whenever you stood above him like that. Maybe you would press the heel of your boot to it? Maybe make him rut against your shin like a filthy mutt only to chastise him about the mess he was making all over your greaves, making the shiny metal look all filthy and disgusting. And oh, the thought of you forcing his head down to make him clean up his mess.

Sweating, he nervously tried to fan himself with his gambeson, so hard and fast that it was like he was trying to fan away these depraved thoughts as well. Blow them into the breeze and hope that they drifted far far away from you. Or maybe….maybe towards you, so that you could perhaps feel this same sweltering need burning you up from the inside, the same as him.

“I think that’s enough for today.” You sigh as you settle your training dword on the holding rack, reaching for the one you usually keep at your waist. “And Garrick?”

“Hmm?” Kyle hums, perking up and looking alert, looking at you for his next instructions. Was he to do lone training now? Guard duty? Or perhaps you would simply tell him to bugger off.

“Do something about your prick already. It was poking at me the whole match.” You said before walking away, leaving him slack jawed and warm faced, sparring sword dropped to the ground.

Brothel Madam x Graves

The scent of cum and rum filled the air, an overwhelming stench that could make your belly rumble with either want or nausea, depending on how well acquainted you were with such establishments. No longer were you a young girl with nowhere else to turn to for money, but the head of the brothel. But despite that, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to the smell, nor the sight of so many women getting dragged off into the various rooms with their John of choice for the night. Smiling and eager, you made sure each one felt comfortable working in such a profession. So different from you, who had started because you hadn’t eaten in a week. Your first customer had filled your belly with seed instead of food, and you hadn’t been able to change professions ever since. You suppose it isn’t all bad. The girls can be spiteful witches, but they look out for each other when they are scorned by everyone else. And if a John ever got too rough, then you knew they’d all form a mob just to pay him back.

“Mind if I take up your time tonight, pretty thing?” A heavily accented voice cooed by your ear, and you couldn’t stop the small bashful smile that rose on your lips when you turned around to see the same handsome noble who shined his favor upon you whenever he could. Beautiful golden tresses and sparkling blue eyes, like something that came out of a dream.

“I don’t know.” You hummed coyly, eyes darting to the hand he hid behind his back. Another present for you, perhaps? “I fear my suitor may be opposed to such a scandalous idea, he is to arrive soon.”

“Oh? Mustn’t upset your suitor then.” He huffed, a twinkle of amusement sparking in his eyes, reserved only for you. “Though I have to say, I think he’d be a bit upset that his woman is out here in a place like this.”

“Hmm? Maybe he likes it.” You tease, already knowing where this conversation was going. The same one you’d been dodging for years. You were beginning to think you’d be dodging it the rest of your life.

Run away with me.

“Now, I doubt that.” He whispered, the mirth in his eyes replaced with something angrier. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was you being here. “I outta think a man wants his lady waiting for him at home, her arms open, her eyes shining. Happy. Safe.”

“Who says I’m not either of those things?” You ask, like your heart didn’t break every time he left you. Like you didn’t long to stay home with him and huddle together under piles of furs during the cold winter’s night. His responding head tilt and narrowing eyes told you he already knew the truth of the matter, it was no use trying to hide it from him so you just craned your neck down to avoid his gaze. It only made him sigh before he slipped a little box into your hand.

“Just think about it.” He whispered, running his palm over your warming cheek. “For me, dear heart.”

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

okay- I woke up in a cold sweat and made this. I introduce to you: instruments the bat-fam plays *jazz hands*

Bruce: grew up rich; probably plays piano at least and maybe a string instrument like that violin (I can see him being a bass or cello guy) doesn’t play much and is sorely out of practice.

Dick: grew up in the circus; so probably doesn’t play a traditional instrument if any- may play a little organ or a percussion instrument.

Jason: grew up poor/on the streets; plays piano quite well (Alfred taught him and then got him lessons) also plays guitar (self taught).

Tim: Grew up rich; plays both piano and violin, was a prodigy in both and often had to play the violin for guests, doesn’t play much now but will occasionally play and is pretty good for not picking it up for months to years at a time.

Damian: grew up as an assassin; may have learned a string instrument (can also kill you 19 different ways with said instrument) but doesn’t play. Has a secret desire to (Jason teaches him some piano).

Steph: criminal father; she seems like a band or choir kid tbh, she probably plays a brass instrument I can see her terrorizing the family with “Careless Whisper” on the saxophone at every possible moment.

Cass: assassin; flute and voice. She plays the flute and it’s the literal best thing you’ve ever heard. No one knows how she learned. She also sings when she is alone and has a really pretty voice. You can catch her humming around the manor sometimes.

Duke: I’m not really sure how he grew up; he probably has the voice of an angel and sings with Cass a lot. He also seems like the kid to play drums or a brass instrument.

Barbara: commissioner’s daughter; she was probably a choir kid, also plays some piano or guitar. One time her choir concert was interrupted by a bad guy when she was in middle school and after Batman took care of it she managed to force him to sing a solo; Gordon still has it on video. Barbara threatens to use it against Bruce all the time.

Alfred: no one knows for sure, but he seems to play a little of everything, and is actually a pretty good teacher.

[kitasgloves]

An Unhealthy Obsession

tracklist

— ♬ "Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart"

— ♬ stalker! Ranpo Edogawa x Reader, SFW, gender-neutral reader, depictions of stalking and obsessive behavior, 3.1k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE NOR ROMANTISIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

At an earlier age, Edogawa Ranpo viewed the world differently. He had separate perceptions of circumstances and ideas, often leaving him feeling like he was being cast out of society. It was difficult to understand and accept that you were different. It took a while to get used to seeing the world through different lenses. Fortunately for him, Ranpo has found the right person that taught him that his completely different perspective of the world and his unique intelligence wasn't something that he should feel ashamed about.

To think that he might have contributed to the idea of forming the Armed Detective Agency fills him with pride. He does enjoy lazing around and reminding people that he was the best detective in the world. Though he does come across as childish with his insatiable hunger for sweets and snacks or the constant need for praise from the president, Fukuzawa Yukichi, the same person who taught him to embrace his uniqueness. Ranpo was aware of the reputation he has built around with solving cases that the police have difficulty in handling and his laidback attitude that he displayed even in the face of danger. However, he cared less in maintaining his image, all that mattered to him was he was the best.

Although, for being the oldest detective in the Agency, Ranpo had a lot to learn. Discarding the fact that he had lost his parents from a very young age, and he had to fend for himself alone without anybody to guide him, sometimes the detective finds himself unwilling to learn certain things. Like a child not wanting to try broccoli for the first time. He's content with his vast knowledge of certain things, and the fact that people in the Agency all depended on him to save the day kept his pride fed.

Now, Ranpo was used to arguing with people because of their dumb (for lack of a nicer term) ideas. He's convinced that he's constantly surrounded by morons. He's accustomed to have different views from people. To someone it could appear as blue, but to Ranpo it's green.  They might see a painting, but Ranpo notices the intricate details and patterns. They might view it as a story, but Ranpo sees it as the window to the author's soul.

The exact moment you entered the detective's life, everything seems to burst into color. Ranpo was overwhelmed with sensations as he was left flabbergasted by your existence. You were the new employee at the café downstairs from the Agency. He couldn't fathom it at first. There was nothing remarkable about you, for all he sees from the surface was a decent individual. But when he put his glasses on, he realizes you're something more.

You were naturally inviting. You had specific tastes and preferences that an average person might not have. You strive to treat people as equally as possible and stood firm in your beliefs. The detective found you refreshing. It was like he's trying a new flavor for the first time. From his first encounter with you, Ranpo was impressed that you took note of his favorites from the café's menu. What made him gravitate towards you was your unique jokes that he surprisingly hasn't heard before. It was as though you lived in a different world before you entered his.

As time progressed, Ranpo observed and absorbed anything and everything about you. What could be a normal smile from you to him it seemed like sun has gifted him precious warmth. What could only be laugh, to him it sounded like a choir of angels blessing his ears. What could be a lingering touch of your hand, to him it felt like a touch of heaven. It was evident that Ranpo views you differently from everybody else.

They call it creeping, he says loving, it's the only way for him. Filling out papers, signing waivers, but he stays outside your reach. He names your mother and your father and the first pet that you keep. He knows your favorite place to dine at when your cheque comes in each week. He knows you do your wash on Sundays, and you separate your whites. And that your car needs a new tire 'cause last week he laid those spikes. He's got a million polaroids with all the dates penned in red ink. He snuck a walkie-talkie in your room to listen to you sleep.

Ranpo is aware that his views and actions would always seem different to others, so he doesn't bother in explaining anymore. Let them stay oblivious. He knows you see the world differently from him, but that doesn't mean he adores you less.

You just don't know it yet, but you love him, and he loves you the same. One day you and him will have a pretty wedding, and he'll be your everything. You and he will be together, yes forever, and will never ever part. Oh, you don't know it yet, but Ranpo thinks he already got your heart.

That's how crushes work, right? Ranpo has seen it all in movies and books. He's aware that he's infatuated with you, and that's normal, right? To know so much about the person you're pining on. To be interested in their habits and behaviors. And to slowly make attempts to woo that person. 

You think Ranpo was eccentric but harmless. He can come across as blunt when you're sharing an opinion, but you know he doesn't mean any harm in expressing his honest view. You do perceive him as someone who holds so much knowledge and intelligence that it's hard to argue with him. Though, you can't help but feel Ranpo constantly plotting something.

It wasn't suspicious at first, when he slid a lollipop towards you randomly and didn't say a word. You initially thought he was being friendly. Then you gained an idea that he wanted to be friends with you when he would approach you in places outside of work, convinced that it was pure coincidence. But then, a weird feeling started rising in your belly when Ranpo would display his knowledge about you during conversations. You are aware that he's like all-knowing or a genius, but how does he know so much about you?

Ranpo insisted on accompanying you to the mall to shop for new furniture for your house. You were looking for a new bed frame was complaining to him about getting that stupid flat tire when a bunch of stupid spikes was weirdly laid across your driveway. You're contemplating whether to get a queen-sized or a king-sized bed. You turned to Ranpo and asked for his opinion.

"Queen-sized bed, your room is too small for a king-sized bed"

He expresses with a lollipop in his mouth. You nodded in agreement. A king-sized bed would be too large for your room...wait, how does Ranpo know about that? You gulped and sent a cautious look from the corner of your eye towards the detective. You haven't invited Ranpo over to your place before, you're positive of it. You turned to him reluctantly.

"...How do you know that a king-sized bed is too big for my room?"

"Ultra Deduction"

The detective replies casually. Of course, he would say that. You heard from his co-workers that Ranpo possessed this powerful 'ability' called Ultra Deduction that would solve anything less than a minute. You doubted it at first, but you believed it later after the proof of all the cases he solved. You're getting suspicious about that 'ability' of his because he seems to know so much about you that it's uncanny.

The detective is aware of how distant you were growing from him the following days. You seem to avoid all form of conversation from him. He tried to get your attention once at work by throwing a tantrum and you only sent him a frown and glare. He couldn't figure it out. Did he do something wrong? Or rather...oh, it has to be it. You're getting suspicious of him. He should've known to keep certain things to himself. But Ranpo lacked self-control during moments with you.

To think that he could ask you hold your hand, feeds his urge to squeeze himself further into your life. To imagine the possibility of the one holding you close and the one you would be spending the rest of your life with, makes Ranpo giddy. All these emotions were so new yet so inviting and you were the sole source of it. Though he does admit that he needs a little bit of guidance to understand these feelings more.

"Did you need something from me, Ranpo?"

Fukuzawa raised a brow at the detective. Ranpo closed the door and timidly walked towards the president. He sat at one of the chairs and leaned close to the man. It gave the impression that he was about to tell him something important and confidential.

"President...have you ever had a crush on someone before?"

The President blinked once, and twice, before sighing. And here he thought Ranpo was going to talk about a case. Fukuzawa leaned back on his chair and relaxed his posture.

"I suppose so, when I was younger. I think everyone does, it's natural"

"Yeah, but how do you deal with having a crush on someone?"

Ranpo presses. Now, Fukuzawa was curious. He does think Ranpo is referring to himself and he had to hold back a smile at the idea of the greatest detective having trouble with having a crush. The President admits that he has rare experiences of this and based on the common knowledge he has about romance, he told Ranpo is that you either tell the person you like them or keep it to yourself. To the detective's dismay, Fukuzawa's answer doesn't seem to provide him with the answer he's looking for. So, he pouts childishly and leaves the office.

Confess or keep it to himself? Bah! What nonsense! He's not a schoolboy for goodness' sake! Surely, people deal with having crushes in their own unique way, and as Fukuzawa said, it was normal. People show love in various ways. Sending love letters might seem old-fashioned to some, but others might view it as genuine. Serenading someone in a public place might seem too much, but there will be people who would see it was romantic. And Ranpo could agree with a small demographic of people, but he thinks a lot of them won't agree with him.

Some call it stalking, he says walking just extremely close behind. He's sure if he sat down and asked you, well, you really wouldn't mind. You've got those eyes that drive him crazy. And he's got eyes to watch you sleep. He brought a pack lunch and some coffee for his stakeout in your tree, outside your house. Gotta be as quiet as a mouse, or else you'll call the police. And he'll get done for something stupid like disturbance of the peace. And piece by piece, he is collecting all the things you leave behind. And when you don't, he rummages through your bins to see what he can find.

You just don't know it yet, but you love him, and he loves you the same. One day you and him will have a pretty wedding, and he'll be your everything. You and he will be together, yes forever, and will never ever part. Oh, you don't know it yet, but Ranpo thinks he already got your heart.

Ranpo is convinced he's being romantic in his own special way. He's used to behaving differently from others, but he knows what he does doesn't come from a place of maliciousness. Through the items he snatched from your house complied into a collection, Ranpo expresses his yearning for you. The sight of your sleeping face that he watches outside your window makes his heart palpitate intensely in ways he couldn't comprehend. All his scheming just to get close to you without forcing himself in, stemmed from his uncontrollable infatuation. Ranpo just couldn't see an outcome where he won't end up with you, he has to end up with you, one way or another.

You felt restless. You kept waking up during the middle of the night in cold sweat and with the feeling of being watched. But no matter how many times you searched around your home, everything seemed to convince you that nothing was wrong. You could've sworn things were going missing around your house. Most of your clothes, used products, and even leftover snacks kept disappearing almost in a daily. As much as you want to sigh and trace it down to your fatigue lately, but you know you're not seeing things. All you need is proof of your suspicions. 

You decided to stay up at night and wait if someone was creeping within your home. Your paranoia seems to increase whenever you would hear sounds outside only to find out it was either the wind or some sort of stray animal. You were searching in every corner of your house, making sure you wouldn't miss a spot, hoping you'd find something out of the ordinary. You began to feel hopeless and exhausted at three in the morning. You ultimately gave in and decided to give everything a rest. Maybe you were unwell or getting sick?

But when you were about to collapse on your bed, you notice something carefully wedged between your books in your bookshelf. You could've passed it off as trick of the eye if you didn't go near to inspect it. Your heartrate went faster as you went closer before it comes to a screeching halt when you realized what it was. 

It was a small walkie-talkie. Somebody has fucking snuck into your room and hid a walkie-talkie in your bookshelf! Your body went cold as you gazed at the radio in your hands. This was the proof that you needed. You knew it! You weren't fucking crazy! You began to fall into delirious fits of laughter. But you were abruptly cut off by the static coming from the walkie-talkie. You yelped and dropped the radio on the floor. You clasped your hand against your mouth and gazed at it unblinkingly. The static lasted for almost a minute until you could hear soft sounds coming from it. You took a cautious step closer; the sound of your pounding heart rang in your ears.

With quivering hands, you went to pick up the walkie-talkie and pressed a button. Sweat dripped down from your brow as you swallowed.

"...Hello?"

"[Name]"

You know that voice. You've heard it call and whine for you countless of times at work. The fact that you know who it was and the fact he could have been the one who was stalking you the entire time, sent a chill down your spine. Your mouth went dry as you were unable to utter a reply.

"I know you can hear me, [Name]"

Ranpo's voice spoke from the other line of the walkie-talkie. You stood rooted on your spot, unblinking and having difficulty with processing the horror of the situation. Your mouth starts to shake as you try to respond.

"R—Ranpo?"

"You've found my little walkie talkie sooner than I anticipated"

The detective's tone sounded giddy that it made you clench your fist. It seemed to you that he wasn't comprehending the gravity of the situation and how fucked up it actually was. You should've known that something wasn't normal about Ranpo. You gritted your teeth and pressed your lips against the walkie-talkie.

"Were you the one stalking me?!"

"I'm not stalking you"

"Yes, you are! What you're doing is fucking stalking me!"

"I don't get why you're shouting at me"

You squeezed your temples. It's baffling how an intelligent man such as Ranpo didn't know what stalking meant. You gripped the radio in your hand.

"Listen here, what you're doing is fucked up. I could have you arrested for breaking and entering my home and stealing my stuff"

"You wouldn't do that"

The detective giggled from the other line. You were about to shout at him when you heard glass shattering from the downstairs of your home. You silently gasped as you raced to shut and lock your bedroom door. Your thoughts begin to race as you turned to the radio.

"Ranpo, was that you?"

There was no answer from the other line. Suddenly, the power gets cut out and you were shrouded in the dark. Panic settles in as you frantically went to hide in your closet. You could hear footsteps walking up the stairs as Ranpo chuckles in the other line.

"I know you're hiding in your room, right now"

He speaks. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, you mentally cursed yourself for leaving your phone charging with a dead battery in your nightstand. You let out a choked gasp when there was pounding in your bedroom door.

"Please open the door, [Name]"

Ranpo pleads through the walkie-talkie, but you don't respond since you were consumed with fear. You held back a scream behind your hands when your door gets kicked down violently. Eerie silence followed after.

"Oh, [Name]"

The detective cooed your name, your heard it both in the walkie-talkie and outside your closet. You were beyond petrified as you hear careful footsteps slowly approaching you. God, you felt so fucking stupid for trusting this man and letting him into your life. Ranpo clicks his tongue.

"You just don't know it yet, but you love me, and I love you the same"

He began as he tortured you with his deliberate footsteps towards your closet. Your body froze all over.

"One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything"

Ranpo continued and he was three steps away from you. But you were silently sobbing uncontrollably, unable to process what he was saying.

"We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part"

Finally, he stops in front of your closet. Your breath stops but your heartbeat doesn't slow down. There was a deep chuckle from the outside the closet and on the other line of the walkie-talkie.

"Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart"

The closet door swings open, and it felt as though your soul was forcefully taken out of your body from the sheer terror you felt. Ranpo was smiling crookedly down at you with his emerald eyes shining in the dark. He was dressed in all black with the walkie-talkie in one hand. He smiles down at your shaking figure, gazing at the endless tears streaming down your eyes. He imagined that same look but with you at the altar, waiting to take his last name. Ranpo knows his unhealthy obsession has gotten out of hand, but there was no way he was letting you go. Whether you liked it or not.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)