#and the only way they know how to deal with that all-encompassing feeling is to try to avoid it or hold on to it

[leixinyus]

Five times Danis felt rejected or himself refused care and the one time he didn’t

[skyahri]

How They Found Out |Naruto Boys X Reader| HC

Part Two Masterlist Ko-fi

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake

Summary: How your relationship ended up being revealed.

Warnings: Naruto's is short af because he's an open book. Deal with it. NSFW themes. Mentions of sex and being caught.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

You'd been together for about a year at this point. In the beginning, you'd agreed to keep it hush-hush until you'd figured things out.

Before you knew it, it'd been more than six months since your first date, and it was still secret. You enjoyed the privacy of it, but didn't enjoy hiding things from your friends.

So you decided to stop actively keeping it a secret and instead allow things to come out naturally.

But that was six months ago and still no one knew.

Sasuke hated PDA and no one had asked either of you about relationship stuff, so it was still quiet.

That is until today.

You two were victims of Narutos' lack of boundaries and awareness.

It was late at night, about 11pm, you were in Sasuke's apartment.

He was drilling into you, his hands holding down your legs and mouth connected to your neck.

You were too busy enjoying the all encompassing feeling of him fucking you, and he was too busy ravaging you to hear Naruto enter the front door.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swings open. Narutos face very quickly goes from his usual happy-go-lucky to a horrified, dramatic look.

Sasuke is quick to cover you with the sheets before he yells at Naruto to get the Hell out.

Naruto is already way ahead of him, bolting straight out the front door and to God knows where.

After that, it wasn't long before the whole village knew. Honestly, once Gai found out, there was no one who didn't know.

Naruto Uzumaki

Find out? Ha! There is no finding out because he immediately told anyone and everyone the second you agreed to a date.

If he did somehow manage to keep it quiet, it really wouldn't be long until it got out.

Hes just so... excited to be with you.

He likes showing you off like a prize. He likes going on dates and holding your hand and loudly proclaiming that you're his.

You don't mind, of course.

Shikamaru Nara

You two lay around together most days. A while back, you shared a kiss, and it very VERY slowly escalated from there.

It was almost six months before you actually had sex.

Mostly because he'd somehow rationalized kissing was "just something you guys did" and didn't require any extra thought.

The sex was amazing. Slow and passionate, just like you'd expect from the lazy Nara.

And so things continued on like that. A relationship had formed, but it was never something either of you talked about.

You liked his parents and they liked you. You'd help his mom with dinner some nights and played Shogi with Shikaku. They didn't question your relationship either.

Things stayed on the down low for almost eighteen months before someone finally brought up something regarding his romantic life.

"So, Shikamaru, who was your first kiss?" Choji asked one night in the bath house.

The question caught him off guard since he wasn't usually included in these types of conversations. (They mostly assumed he wasn't interested in women, or something like that.)

"Hm? Oh, Y/N."

Cue the silence. Then total chaos.

"What?? When was this?" Kiba asked.

"I don't know... sometime around the solstice last year."

That sparked a lot of questions from his friends, only some of which he'd answered.

The guys relayed all the information to the girls the next day, where they then went and hounded you for answers.

Despite all of your friends knowing about your relationship, nothing changed between you and Shikamaru.

You just stayed... whatever it is you were.

Kakashi Hatake

Gai, Kurenai, and Iruka all had their suspicions about you two but had nothing to back it up. It's been years at this point, yet they still come up empty-handed.

That is, until Kakashi’s students decided they were interested in his love life, and began to poke around.

It's after the war; Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are fully grown adults, but something is just so tempting about reverting to their youthful days of trying to spy on their sensei.

Kakashi is all for it, partially because he's glad his students are getting along again, and partially because he's grown tired of keeping secrets.

This is something he discusses with you, and as he predicted, you're completely on board.

You gradually make yourself seen with Kakashi over the next week- leaving the Hokage tower with him, getting dinner with him, and even allowing him to walk you to his apartment.

The kids watch all of this happen, but there's no evidence that actually proves anything, just like Gai sensei had told them in the beginning.

So they continue to stalk you two around the village. They're better at it than when they were little, but it's still pretty easy to spot them.

At the end of the week, when you're sure all three of them are watching, Kakashi kisses you in front of your front door.

You watch as they all zip away, surely off to meet up or possibly report back to your friends.

You and Kakashi can only laugh.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight PT2

Alastor x doe!reader

PART ONE PART 3

this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you

Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think

wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei

Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.

“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.

Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”

Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.

Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!

“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.

At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.

“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.

“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.

“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.

Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.

Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.

“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.

“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.

You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.

Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.

Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.

Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.

“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.

“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.

Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.

You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”

A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.

Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

BEGGING FOR A SUGURU VERSION OF THE SATORU HANDS ONE AND MAYBE PT 2 OF THE SATORU ONE ??

Omg now I'm thinking of satosugu

ANYWAYS ILY CINNA, THANKS FOR BEING THE BEST!

Their Plaything

Tags: SatoSugu x Reader, nsfw, mdni, hand kink, size kink, finger sucking, this might be controversial lol

An: I LOVE YOU NEPOBABYYYY THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING <3

Living with the two strongest sorcerers in the world should be chaotic, right?

Wrong.

Well, actually… maybe you’re right.

But if there’s one thing about Satoru and Suguru, they try to protect you from their lifestyle at all costs. If they come home beaten and bloodied from a mission, they’ll still be laughing and reassuring you that their wounds don’t hurt that bad.

They never ever talk about the horrors they face. It’s none of your concern. Even if it’s patronizing to think the way they do, they don’t want you to deal with the emotional turmoil and stress that they have to. So, they make their jobs look easy.

Oh yeah, and that king of curses guy?? They’d definitely beat him. It’s really no sweat.

Even though they try to protect you from the horrors of jujutsu sorcery, they absolutely love when you worry about them. You’re the only person in the world that still treats them like they aren’t invincible, and they find it endearing.

Besides, after a long mission, all they really need is you.

Suguru loves to dote on your face. His oversized palm would cup your cheek, adoring how you nuzzle into his touch like a cat. His hand is bigger than your face, and it’s calloused too. His fingers are thick.. to the point where it almost hurts when he stretches you out, but it’s the best type of pain. His veins are bigger than Satoru’s. Even though Satoru is technically taller, Suguru is just stockier built.

He counts his blessings while thinking about how soft your skin feels. All this work he does… all the terribly corrupted things he’s seen is worth it to come back home to you.

His favorite is when you sit on his lap facing away from him and allow for him to play with your hair. You fit so nicely in his lap. His body can nearly encompass yours. He’ll rake his fingers through your hair for hours before his hands settle on your hips. His thumbs find the dimples in your back, and he just holds you to him.

Satoru is a bit different in his approach. He’ll hold his palm out for you to rest your chin on, and when you flutter those pretty eyes to look up at him, he can’t help but to indulge you in a kiss.

He’ll get on his knees in front of you and Suguru, and his hands trail down your body while you’re sat in Suguru’s lap. He’ll grope your thighs and massage your calfs while pressing kisses to whatever body part you’ll allow him to.

Satoru and Suguru are mischievous. They’ll do subtle things to turn you on — on purpose, and when you get all needy, they’ll tease you about being an insatiable pervert. When in reality, they’re the ones who were horny in the first place. Can you blame them? Being without their plaything for days while they’re on missions is like cruel and unusual punishment.

It starts off usually with Suguru. While playing with your hair, he’ll subtly give you a small tug. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Did I pull? I didn’t mean to.” He’ll whisper softly into your ear, knowing you get all squirmy when his breath fans across your skin.

It works every time without fail. You go to wiggle away from him, but his large hands hold your hips in place. “Ah, ah, princess, don’t run from me. I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Let me have this.”

Before you know it, his hands are back in your hair, subtly tugging on it. He subtly smirks to himself as he hears your breath becoming more pressured.

Satoru knows all of Suguru’s tricks by now, and he immediately follows suit. He reaches up to cup your cheek. At first, it’s completely innocent. His thumb will trace soft lines into your skin while he watches as your face becomes more and more flushed.

“Don’t get too worked up now, sweets.” Satoru teases before he places his pointer and middle finger up to your lips. “We just missed you.” He says with a grin as you absentmindedly open your mouth and accept his fingers in.

Your mouth is so damn warm and wet. He can immediately start to feel his pants getting tight. He’ll subtly grunt as he watches you suckle and bite on his fingers. Nothing else in the world matters right now. All the hard work, blood, sweat, tears is for purely this… so he can come home and watch you live without a care in the world.

Suguru’s hands will subtly start to guide your hips. It’s so minuscule that you don’t even realize that you’re rocking back and forth right against his cock. Soon enough, you’re completely moving back and forth on your own, grinding against him until you’re soaked through your panties.

When you start to whimper and whine around his fingers, Satoru will pull them from your mouth. “What is it, sweets? Don’t tell me you’re feeling needy.” He taunts as he stands up from his knees, forcing you to look up at him instead of his cock that was tented in his pants.

“Yeah darling, we just got home… We just wanted to love on you.” Suguru chimes in before pulling your hair a bit more.

“You just see us as sex objects, don’t you? Just two cocks to fulfill those sick thoughts in your head.” Satoru immediately speaks up, not giving you a chance to defend yourself.

They’re so damn unrelenting. When both of them are together, you never have a chance for rest. It’s like they feed off each other’s energy and dispel it onto you.

“N-no, I… you two started it” You whine, trying to defend your case against them.

“Oh? You’re gonna deny it while grinding yourself against my cock? No one made you do that, darling.” Suguru whispers into your ear, making you shiver again.

“And what about sucking on my fingers? No one made you do that either.” Satoru pats the top of your head with his hand. “You’re so needy. I bet if I placed my dick right against your lips, you’d accept that too without question.”

Your hips immediately halt, and both of the men just laugh at you. “No, no, don’t stop now. You might as well get yourself off.” Suguru’s hands wrap back around your hips, forcing you to move back and forth against him again.

Satoru fumbles with his belt, and he tests his theory from earlier. Once his cock is out, he presses his tip right against your lips, and sure enough, your mouth opens right up for him.

“Good girl.” Satoru praises in a breathy groan while rubbing your hair.

“Such a good girl.” Suguru echos Satoru’s praise, whispering right into your ear as you struggle to take Satoru’s cock.

So, things aren’t too bad while living with the two strongest sorcerers. As long as you like being toyed with by both of them at once.

[momotonescreaming]

Steve Harrington was born a siren, just like his mother. Perfect skin, rosy cheeks, silky soft hair. He had her eyes, her nose, the tilt of her lips. He was supposed to be the perfect son to match Mr Harrington’s perfect wife. Handsome and charming. The heir to the Harrington Empire.

His mother was beautiful, always looking perfect. Not a hair out of place or her lipstick smudged. Steve always thought his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, as all kids do. Turns out he was more right than most. She was ethereal, unapproachable, gorgeous in a way you couldn’t quite place. In a way only sirens can be. No wonder his father wanted her.

When he got older Steve realised it was her siren song, that made his father want her. She could charm anyone with a flick of her hair and a swish of her skirt. A wink and a laugh and you would be entranced. And if she sang, spoke to you with a special lilt to her voice, you would be under her spell. And so he bought her to work parties, on business trips, dinners with potential work partners. And she would charm whoever he wanted charmed. And then his father would be promoted, given a raise, and the cycle repeated.

He didn’t love her, and he didn’t love Steve either. And so Steve didn’t sing. Ever. No singing in the shower, no humming in the halls. No karaoke or lilting his voice. He wasn’t going to entrance anyone. He wasn’t going to con his way to the top, just like dear old dad.

Steve became popular anyway. He was handsome, he was charming, he made people want to do things for him - just by existing. He was a siren. It was easier for him, dealing with people. He knows what they’re feeling, what they crave, what they desire. And it’s so easy to take that want and twist it just so. Make his life a little easier. Make it so maybe, his dad with love him if Steve does what he wants, just like his mother.

It doesn’t work. He’s a disappointment and his father doesn’t love him. He promises to himself to never sing again.

Mrs Harrington taught him everything he knows. What she didn’t tell him about, was the itch, the burning underneath his skin. The all encompassing desire to be in the water. He needs it. He craves it. Apparently, when he was a toddler, he would happily play in the bath for hours and hours and throw a hell of a tantrum when it was time to come out. As a kid, he would spend all Saturday swimming in the pool, only getting out when his father yelled at him.

It wasn’t the same as the lake. The pool was nice, but the water wasn’t fresh. It wasn’t natural. The first time he swam in a lake, on a free afternoon over summer vacation, he grew gills. The more he swam, the more prominent they became, the easier it was to swim. And then his fingers started to web together. It was freeing, it was everything, it was as natural as anything. Young Steve came home with scales growing on his legs only to be met with the stern face of his mother.

He couldn’t swim in the lake again. He can’t transform. People can’t know what he is. What she is. The itch gets worse. He’s constantly sipping at water bottles to alleviate the sensation. It doesn’t really work. He joins the swim team. That doesn’t help either. He doesn’t know how his mother does it.

He dreams of the ocean. His parents leave for another business trip. He sneaks out to Lovers Lake.

Steve hides his car in the trees, finds what he thinks is an old abandoned dock, and strips down to his underwear. He dives in with a perfect arch, and swims until the scales start forming. Coming up for air, Steve doesn’t realise how long it’s been — but it must have been a while since there’s a boy on the dock.

Shoes next to him, ripped jeans rolled up so he can dip his feet in the water. Long curly hair falling in waves around his face. A lit cigarette perched between pink lips. Chocolate brown eyes, fluttering lashes. He’s beautiful, and he’s singing.

Steve can’t stop staring.

[0bticeo]

lay your hands on me | dabi x reader

summary.

he holds up his hand before your face, fingers spread wide, big enough to encompass your whole face.

he could kill you. burn you to ashes. you should be a little concerned with how unpredictable he proves himself to be at times. 

you’re not. if anything, you’re watching, enraptured, as his hand looms closer to your face.

what he does next nearly kills you. 

“open wide for me.”

wc. 2.9k

tw. reader is an oblivious idiot, spoilers for the overhaul arc, slight canon divergence bc fuck you the league gets to keep the bar in kamino, hand fetish, finger sucking, finger fucking, alley sex, kissing, somehow very soft (they were supposed to fuck nasty i don't get it.)

being a UA dropout isn’t all bad. neither is kamino district. no, really. you just have to know the right spots.

and you had time to do so ever since eraserhead’s wonderful decision of kicking you out of the damn school. something about how vigilantism wasn’t tolerated. something about how you, as a third year, should have known better. 

you were close. so close to graduation. then it happened. it. your one true heroic act.

no cameras, no shiny deals, no public appreciation, no nothing. just you, a creep following a seven year old, and dark, dark streets.

you acted out of sheer instinct, the ink on your forearms springing to life, twin tattooed snakes sinking their fangs into that bastard’s skin. 

the girl was fine. blissfully unaware. the creep, not so much, sprawled in a dark alley near your favorite conbini. you’re not too sure about the inner workings of venom. not the the one given life to by your quirk. 

somehow, you have a feeling it hurts like hell.

having principal nezu sit you down and kindly explain that you would no longer be attending classes at UA, mouse-head split in a wide grin, hurt more.

“what are you sanctioning me for, exactly?” you ask, knuckles turning white with how tight you’re holding your tea cup.

he smiles at you. you feel every condescendent edge of his rodent teeth.

“vigilantism is illegal, as i’m sure you well know.”

"you-”

“aizawa-san already filled me in on the details.”

a sharp inhale. of course. of course, just because there aren’t any cameras doesn’t mean there aren’t witnesses. it’s not like the girl could testify. you made sure to be quiet. you made sure the creep was quiet.

you set your teacup back on its saucer, the rim silent as it meets the porcelain. nezu watches you, his eyes dark and empty. intelligent. inhumane. he sighs.

“such a shame to lose a student of your caliber. but the law is the law. no exceptions can be made,” he says, quietly sipping his tea.

you smile. it doesn’t reach your eyes. you think your palms might be bleeding with how hard your nails are digging in the skin. it’s fine. the deep green of your skirt is dark enough for the nature of the stain to be unidentifiable. 

“please. i have nowhere to go.”

the law is the law. nevermind that attending UA is expensive. in the promotion material, they mention the entrance exam (not that you can get yourself killed in it), the heroes (celebrities!) serving as professors, the facilities. 

now, the government might be funding a part of the infrastructure - those killer robots they have at the entrance exam aren’t going to finance themselves - but the rest? the tuition fees are expensive enough for the students to enter the hero life in debt. 

it’s fine. those from UA are pretty much destined to make it big. it’s not the best hero school in the country for nothing.

the law is law. 

you’re kicked out of school three weeks away from graduation without a backup plan. the only thing you have to yourself is a dingy studio in kamino district.

(aizawa had crossed paths with you on your way out of nezu’s office. he’s watched your eyes turn cold, and for a split-second, wondered if the law was fair.)

back on track. cut to four years of fruitless job hunting because nobody wants an UA dropout in their agencies. doesn’t matter if you were the top of your class, if endeavor himself wanted you to work under him at some point.

all they see is the black mark on your resume and the ink spreading and spreading over your skin, wrapping along your arms.

they smile and deny you the job you oh so need.

bye, bye morale, hello shoplifting. you’re quick on your feet and nimble-handed. get in, get out, you don’t get caught.

until you steal from the wrong person. until a hand wraps around your wrist, all five fingers digging in your flesh with the intention to kill.

meeting shigaraki tomura was… an interesting experience. so was your skin not decaying. maybe a side-effect from your quirk. your arms are more ink than skin these days. more tattoos, more power.

maybe your wrist being still intact landed you here. maybe it was the hero killer stain, his blade digging in the roots of a corrupted system and twisting. heroes are rotten, you know. true heroism is punished.

maybe you were angry, too. 

so now you spend your nights sitting in the league of villains’ base. a bar. it’s classier than expected for a ragtag team of villains. you highly suspect kurogiri’s distinguished demeanor is the sole reason for the said classiness.

shigaraki’s ranting again, chipped nails scratching his neck hard enough to bleed.

you’re barely listening, sprawled as you are on the counter. there’s a scrap of paper in front of you and a pen in your hand. on you doodle, hand cradling your cheek, occasionally humming to show you’re still listening. 

everybody’s here for a change.

twice, being his usual versatile self, one minute praising shigaraki’s genius planning, the next tearing it to shreds with a few well placed curses. troubled little fellow, really sweet. once lent you his lighter, so he’s high up in your good graces. 

next to you, toga kicks her feet, golden eyes glinting mischievously in the low lighting. there’s a wide grin tugging at her face, revealing sharp canines. she’s eager to get back in the fray. something about seeing a certain izuku. 

compress is fiddling with his gloves. shimmering orbs flash between his skilled fingers, twirling between them before disappearing wherever. a magician never reveals his secrets. how he managed to gain back such skill after losing his arm is beyond you.

spinner is watching on seriously. bless him.

(magne’s dead. your grip on your pen tightens.) 

and dabi… 

dabi’s leaning on the counter to your left, elbows nonchalantly propped up against its wooden surface, the sleeves of his jacket baring a hint of his bicep.

you watch, eyes half-lidded, the curl of his wrist, the way his fingers drum against the lapel of his jacket, flexing, flexing. 

you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.

three strokes of your pen. the shape of his hands come to life.

broad and warm, the skin of his palms pulled taut by the staples holding him together, little flashes of silver.

the fingers, next. clever. long. deft. curled in a way that has the fine lines of his knuckles jutting out and your cheeks warming. still, not quite right. 

you glance at his hand again and find it wrapped around a glass of whiskey, the heat of them fogging up the glass. there it is, again. that slow drumming, index finger tap, tap, tapping away on the glass. the staples on the back of his hand dig in his skin, right under the bone.

you bite back a groan.

hands are hard to draw.

you don’t know what it is about his fingers, but you can’t get them right. doesn’t matter if your muse is right there, a barstool away from you, sitting pretty with those damned fingers of his, you can’t seem to will your pen to mimic them. 

you risk another glance and meet blue, blue eyes. something like amusement flashes in them, his lips quirking up by a fraction. heat creeps up your neck. you twirl your pen and advert your eyes.

“irezumi-chan.”

leave it to shigaraki to give you dumb nicknames. 

you tilt your head.

“yes?”

“are you listening?”

turns out you’re needed for a job involving, out of all things, your tagging skills. and why the hell not. if the boss man wants you to sneak around in shady neighborhood near the shie hassaikai’s quarters in the dead of night, who are you to say no. (they’ll pay for what they did to magne.)

surprisingly, dabi’s drawled out a “count me in”, before downing his whiskey. (you’ve watched with bated breath his adam apple bob up and down as he swallowed his liquor.) 

so dabi’s tagging along, hands regrettably shoved deep in the confines of his pockets.

you’re not disappointed. absolutely not.

just worrying about your safety. understand, your quirk makes it so that you practically have to be half-naked for maximum efficiency. skin revealing tops and all, because you’re tired of your clothes being rippef to shreds whenever your tattoos come to life. so dabi’s hands in his pockets? they’re limiting his ability to defend you both if needed be.

nevermind the speed with which he fights, spread hand igniting from palm to fingertips, fire flashing bluer than his eyes as he burns it all. nevermind your own skills. it’s just that these yakuza bastards are lethal, more so than the league.

yeah, right. and tattooing your back piece yourself was an easy ordeal.

you let out a sigh and stop dead in your tracks, eyeing a wall. covered in graffiti, the whole surface of it a mess of superposed designs.

“this should do.”

dabi leans back on the opposite wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

“do your thing.”

you crack your knuckles, your wrists, grab the spray paint and get to work. here’s the great thing about your quirk. whatever you draw can come to life, as long as you’ve seen it beforehand. call yourself yoshihide and your quirk hellscreen with how good you are. 

the medium doesn’t matter - the drawing comes to life if you will it so. and sure, it might disappear after an hour’s worth of use, but given your drawing skills, it’s versatile enough to give you the advantage in a fight.

the smell of spray paint fills the air, black micro droplets dusting your fingertips, your wrist. you kneel, leaning back ever so slightly to assess your handiwork.

you cannot afford to mess this up. not if you want shigaraki’s admittedly funky plan to succeed - and given you know UA is going to involve itself with that bastard overhaul… oh well. you don’t mind giving the students an explosive hand. as a thank you gift. 

smoke curls in front of you. nicotine.

you groan, rising to your feet and brushing the dust off your cargo pants.

“really dabi?”

you don’t need to turn around to know he’s grinning.

that grin.

the one that has him baring just a sliver of teeth, stitches pulling at the corner of his eyes with the mischievous glint flashing in them. a menace. 

“what?” he drawls. “can’t handle a little smoke?”

you shake your can of spray paint with a grumble.

“i’m trying to quit.”

a low chuckle.

“poor you.”

a lick of warmth at your back. you stop drawing that grenade. no need to mess it up. you feel the lean heat of him before he presses against you, fingers trailing up, up your arm, from your wrist to your collarbone- he’s tracing your tattoos. 

“you know, you get real cute when you’re flustered.”

his nail presses down on the detail of one of your pieces - a dragon’s scale, its great maw gaping open in a blast of heat stretching over your shoulder. you shudder. his hair brushes against your cheek.

“i’m not flustered,” you mumble, weakly.

he chuckles, low and warm and just a little mean. you feel the vibration of it on your back, spreading deep in your ribcage. you think you’re forgetting to breathe. 

“no?”

his fingers come to view, joints stretching the skin taut. they’re big, thumb massaging your forearm, digging in the coils of the leviathan snaking around your wrist.

“i see the way you look at me when i fight. at the bar…”

your mouth goes a little dry. you lick your lips and feel dabi’s breath on your cheek, his nose brushing your ear. he could take a bite out of you with how close his mouth is to your neck. 

“hands are hard to draw.”

you don’t see his grin. you don’t see the white flash of teeth you’ve grown to love, the way his lips split wide, stitches pulling and pulling at the seams of his mouth.

“hands?” he lifts one of them, the one that isn’t lighting a fucking inferno at your hip with how maddening his touch is, his index slowly tracing your waistband. “you like my hands, huh?”

you whine. actually fucking whine at that, low and needy and desperate, hips pressing back against his.

and fuck, if the way he laughs at that doesn’t turn you to putty in his hands, you don’t know what does.

he holds up his hand before your face, fingers spread wide, big enough to encompass your whole face.

he could kill you. burn you to ashes. you should be a little concerned with how unpredictable he proves himself to be at times. 

you’re not. if anything, you’re watching, enraptured, as his hand looms closer to your face. what he does next nearly kills you. 

“open wide for me.”

his fingers curl, index and middle held before your mouth, pressing down on your lower lip, teasing it before they slip in you, resting on your tongue.

you taste him - something salty and distinctly him that makes your head spin.

his fingers are warm, the entirety of him is, and you’re panting against him, your own fingers clenching your can of spray paint like a vice.

his free hand snakes under your shirt, splaying over your chest, burying itself between the plushness of your breasts. he feels your heartbeat, wild, erratic little thing against his palm.

“that’s it… now suck.”

a metallic clang rings somewhere in the distance. you wouldn’t know where, with the sharp ringing in your ears, the way the world has narrowed down to dabi’s heavenly touch.

tiny pinpricks of cold brush your chin, lightning flashes of pleasure as his staples make contact with your skin, as his nails drag against your nipple, pleasure-pain at its finest. 

he’s dragging his fingers, pushing down on your tongue as you eagerly suck on them. he mouths at your neck, the press of teeth against your skin having you keening around his fingers.

you think you’re burning, little inferno of desire wasting away in his arms, your hips grinding against his, eager, eager…

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, thin threads of saliva linking them to your parted lips, and you whine at the loss.

then his fingers find your slit and drag, and his touch is scorching against your core and you’re begging. wet little sounds fill the alleyway, and it’s loud, the only thing you can hear. and fuck, the way his thumb circles your clit just right- 

and that fucker takes his hand out of your pants and brings it to his face with a low chuckle, thin threads of your slick coating his fingers from the tip to the knuckle. your eyes widen, the sight embedded in your retina.

he grins against your cheek. 

“i’ve barely touched you…” 

there’s a hint of awe in his voice, you think, hazily. then again, you’re not sure. not really. you’re impeccably warm like this, all pressed up against dabi’s lithe body, head lolled back on his shoulder. 

“dabi, please…”

he spins you around, all but slamming you against the wall behind you. you groan, because fuck, every single nerve ending in your system is begging for release, and the acrid scent of spray paint is filling your senses, and you’re pretty sure it’s smudging against your back-

you meet his gaze and your breath catches in your throat.

he’s watching you, blue, blue eyes swallowed up by his pupils. he’s panting, you realize, lips bloody with how hard he’s bitten them. you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than him, looming over you in the flickering glow of a streetlamp, the golden light swallowing him whole. 

“let me draw you,” you blurt out, cheeks heating up immediately.

he laughs, a low, raspy little thing of a chuckle as his fingers find your core again and you gasp at his touch.

“you already do, don’t you?”

you feel you might spontaneously combust and die, your head tilting to the side, trying not to meet his stare. you don’t see his smile, inexplicably fond. 

“c’mon, look at me. i wanna see your pretty face when i make you cum on my fingers.”

his forehead presses against yours, his fingers digging in your hips, in the meat of your thigh. your breath mingles with his in sharp little gasps as he resumes unraveling you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

it’s unfair, the effect he has on you, how good he is with these blasted fingers of his. you fist at his clothes, hands burrowing in the strands of hair at his nape, tugging hard enough to make him groan, low and heavy in your ear. his fingers curl. you keen, falling apart as you choke around his name. 

his lips press against your neck, a soft, almost chaste peck.

“you did so good for me, pretty.”

you’re about to gently push him away from you. you have a job to do, a revenge to take, and the clock’s ticking- 

then his lips are on you. he’s kissing you, his lower lip a stark contrast with his upper lip, the perfect blend of soft roughness. you close your eyes, melting against him.

he’s kissing you, and the job can wait for a little while.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 

She would have told you. 

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 

“A-Anakin?” 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!

Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny

[yuyuyunnie]

It's Only Just A Crush (JYH)

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Yunho knew he shouldn't be dealing with you. Corrupting your sweet little innocent life, but my god how breathtaking you looked under the night sky.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: language, unprotected sex (pls wrap up guys!), some slight dirty name-calling but nothing crazy, fingering

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.6k

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮: I haven't written in so long, so I desperately apologize if this is not good, but I couldn't help myself. If you like it, please let me know, and if you have any requests please let me know as well! Thank you!

⁂𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽⁂

His head bopped along to the music thumping outside of club. The air encompassed his body, his leather jacket not doing much against the breeze and slight rain that drizzled around him. Yunho’s fingers loosely held his cigarette, taking a deep drag as his eyes grazed across the drunken groups that passed by through the busy street. 

And then, there you were. 

Yunho’s jaw clenched, his eyes settling on the black leather mini dress you wore. He felt as if his throat was going to clamp shut forever. He’s seen you walking down this street multiple times. He doesn’t even know your name, but his desire was through the roof. To his amazement, you and your friends walked into the club that he was standing outside of. Your eyes locked onto his before disappearing into the crowd. 

Smirking, Yunho took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it off into the street. The music was vibrating his body, and the lights highlighting everyones faces every now and then—but he could spot you instantly. Your body was pressed against the bar, your friends arm draped around your waist as you both order something to drink. Yunho’s eyes roamed over your body, drinking in every single detail. 

“Need something?”

Yunho shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes as they landed onto you. You were smiling slightly at him, your lips wrapped around the little straw they gave you from the bar. Yunho felt his dick twitch, his mind immediately racing to your lips pressed around his tips, sucking, choking—

“Hello?”

You waved your hand in his face, a slight giggle coming from you. Yunho sighed, his eyes falling onto yours before smiling back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” He choked out, “How’re you?”

“I’m good,” You hummed, eyeing him up and down, “Do I know you?”

You’re about to, Yunho thought. He smirked, licking his lips as he eyed you up and down, mimicking you. Yunho’s eyes fell onto your cleavage, your breast falling up and down, so smoothly, slowly. Your skin looked soft to the touch, glitter decorating your chest as well. You were ethereal, and Yunho wanted you all to himself. 

“I’m Yunho,” He choked out, extending his hand to you. 

You smiled, taking his hand. Your body immediately relaxed at the feeling of his hand engulfing yours. You glanced down, his bracelet twinkling off the lights, his veins running up his arms, and best of all, the rings that inhabited his fingers. You felt your core pulse, your stomach dropping at the sight. Only your friend knows about your hand kink, and this man had exactly what you’ve been feening for. 

“I’m Y/N,” You smile, letting your hand linger with his. 

Yunho could feel his stomach curl at the sight of you, hearing you talk to him—your fingers gliding past his. Electricity shot through his body and my god how he wanted to savor you. His jaw clenched, his eyes examining the floor before falling back on you. You were still staring at him, the straw dangling off of your bottom lip. You knew what you were doing. You’ve been eyeing Yunho for weeks. You finally decided to wear this leather dress out because you knew he frequented this club. 

You definitely had a school girl crush on him. The way his black hair fell slightly in front of his eyes. His plump lips, and especially his hands. His height added to it, and also his friend that is smuggling saying hi to you. You smirked, eyes falling down to his pants before eyeing Yunho again. It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t want to fuck him, to see where things went. Wether he knows it or not, you’ve been eyeing him as much as he’s been eyeing you. You’ve noticed, you’d be a fool if you didn’t notice. You couldn’t wait to see how he felt—

Felt, Yunho couldn’t wait to see how you felt beneath him. His mouth was watering at the sight of you. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Yunho cleared his throat, his eyes finding yours piercing back at him. 

“I’ve been eyeing you for weeks, Y/N” He stepped closer, his hand falling to your waist. “I think you’ve been doing the same.” His mouth fell against your ear, his hot breath sending waves through your core, “You’ve been eyeing me too, darling.”

You pulled back, eyes falling onto his lips, “Are you so sure, Yunho?” You cocked your head to the side, a smirk gliding across your face as his tongue skimmed his cheek, a smirk plastering across his face. 

Grabbing your hand, Yunho led you through the crowd, knocking shoulders with everyone as he took you to the nearest bathroom. Ideally he wouldn’t want to fuck you here, but you were too irresistible. The bathroom was dimly lit as Yunho slammed the door behind you, his chest slightly panting. Before you could say anything, Yunho’s mouth slammed against yours. Your cup dropped to the ground as your hands went straight to his hair, coming through the thick locks as his hips ground against yours. 

Fuck he was huge. 

Your panties dampened as the kiss deepened. His hands found their way to your waist, hoisting you up onto the sink. Yunho pulled back, a string of saliva following as you panted. Your chest heaved up and down, the glitter still sparkling under the light. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his hair disheveled, and his lips already swollen from the intense makeup session between you. 

Leaning in, Yunho pressed his lips to your ear, “I want to fucking tear you apart, my little slut.”

You clenched your thighs, your breath hitching in your throat as you mouth dropped open. Yunho pulled back, his eyes filled with lust as he pulled your dress down, your breasts falling out of the dress. Groaning, Yunho took one nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaked with the other bead. His tongue swirled around and around, your pussy aching as it clenched around nothing. You needed him, bad. 

“Yunho, please,” You begged, trying to pull his head back from your breast. 

Pulling back with a pop, Yunho gazed up at you, his fingers still tweaking with your sensitive nipples. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” You gasped.

Yunho smirked, his eyes falling to your thighs. Bunching your dress up, Yunho sighed, his dick twitching at the feeling of your panties sopping wet. “You’re already this wet for me? How precious,” He mumbled, hooking his finger around the fabric before pulling it to the side. 

His index finger circled your swollen clit, sending shivers down your spine. Glancing at you, Yunho sped up, his eyes watching your already fucked out expression. Switching his thumb to your clit, Yunho squeezed two fingers inside of you, your back arching off the mirror. 

“Fuck!” You squealed, fingers wrapping around his arm as his fingers worked magic on you. 

The pads of his fingers thrummed quickly against your g-spot and his thumb drawing rough circles around your clit. Before long, your orgasm rang through, your juices flowing into Yunho’s palm. Pulling out, Yunho gawked at the amount of release on his hand, his eyes falling over to you before licking his hand, never breaking eye contact. You gulped, your thighs trembling at the sight. Smirking, Yunho undid his pants before pulling his pants down, his dick springing free from the tight pants. Your mouth dropped, his dick so beautiful under the dim light. His precum glistened în the light and before long, Yunho latched an arm around your waist and pulled you off the sink.

“Trust me,” He whispered while turning you around, “I could stare at you all night, but fuck I’ve got to fuck your tight little pussy.” 

Pressing his thick head between your lips, Yunho pressed in, throwing his head back at the warmth that enveloped his dick. Grunting, Yunho leaned down over you, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, darling. Every time I see you walk down these streets, I imagined bending you over and filling you up. God,” He groaned, his hips rocking back and forth. “Your pussy feels amazing around my dick. Wouldn’t you agree, princess?”

You whimpered, your mouth falling open as you stared at him through the mirror. Yunho glanced up, a smirk resting on his face as he stared back at you. His dick rocked back and forth, the tip ramming into your cervix. You couldn’t think properly. 

“So pretty, watching me fuck you silly in the filthy bathroom.” He chuckled, his hips smacking into you harder, your pretty little moans filling the bathroom more and more. “Cum around my dick, princess. Show me how I make you feel,”

Another whimper left your mouth as your eyes went hazy. You could feel your orgasm building. As if Yunho could tell, his hand crept around to your front before swiping your clit back and forth. Your body tensed, your head slamming back into Yunho’s shoulders. 

“Fuck,” you squealed, hands gripping the sink, “I’m about to cum!”

“Cum for me, baby,” 

Your body jolted, your orgasm raining over Yunho’s dick. His thrust sped up, his pants filled the bathroom. 

“Fuck Y/N,” 

Yunho grunted as his seed filled your pussy. Your cunt swallowed every last drop and sweet little whimpers left Yunho’s mouth as he pulled out. Both of your releases dripped to the floor and all that was left was the soft panting from your both. 

“I don’t think this crush will ever go away,” Yunho mumbled, smiling at you. 

© yuyuyunnie, 2024.

[raayllum]

She Must Pay the Price, or A Drop of Mercy :: A Rayla and Leola Meta

Quick:

You're a young elven girl, and you show mercy and compassion to a human that you definitely weren't supposed to. When it's found out, you're punished, with elves even calling for your execution (6x09, book 1 novelization). Your father does what he can, but there's only so much. You're put on trial. You're found guilty regardless of intent, and only by association. You die for this; you die for them. You're a star. A guiding light. There's even a Great Fall off a precipice (though only one of you hits the ground).

Your name is Leola, or Rayla.

You're the beginning and the end, respectively.

So let's talk about it.

Tests of Love

For years, I had wondered where Aaravos' assessment of "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear" (2x09) came from, cause you don't drop in a line like that if it's not going somewhere. It's quite a statement and worldview, after all. Now, with Leola's trial, it seems we know.

We can see, then, perhaps that Leola's gift giving was the first test of love — are you willing to break the Natural Law, the Natural Order of things? — to help another? To show another a source of power in order to share, to be compassionate, and in Rayla's case, to be merciful (though we'll get more to that in a minute).

We also know that the love Leola had was powerful and all encompassing:

She didn't care to follow the order set in the stars. Though she was born an immortal being from the Heavens, she loved this world... and all its flaws. Her heart was warm and open.

And she befriended mortals. Animals, elves... and humans.

ETHARI: Who I love, where I love, what I love, are all specific. But to Runaan and those like your parents... love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close. (Bloodmoon Huntress)

Okay, so Leola and Rayla both have big compassionate hearts and befriend creatures from all over the place. So what? So do Callum, Ezran, Soren, and most of our other main good guy characters. Even Claudia to a degree (though she could work on not using magical creatures for spell parts).

Well, specifically, it's because of how they intersect currently more with anyone else on the concept of

Mercy

KOSMO: Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled. (6x05)

Rayla sparing Marcos, as noted in multiple interviews by the creators and by myself in previous metas, is ultimately the inciting incident / lynchpin of the entire series. Without it, there would've been no soulfang proposal or Ez running away to find the egg or any of the number of other elements that had to come together to make achieving peace possible.

While we still have details to discover regarding Aaravos' Fall and development of dark magic, we know that a lack of mercy was ultimately what sent him on his path of vengeance. Leola was not shown mercy, and while it seems there were already "flaws" for an imperfect world, things were (probably) better than they currently are in Xadia in a variety of ways. Then, to kick off the entire Saga, we have Rayla sparing Marcos in a soundtrack literally titled "Mercy" and have Kosmo, seasons and seasons later, spell out directly what a big deal this was for well, the ocean of time.

None of this is to say Rayla can't act out of revenge — she did ("when I first came here, I was on a mission for revenge") and she has ("but I became so obsessed with revenge"), much like Aaravos ("he isn't doing anything out of love, he's doing it for revenge") — but that her general compassion and love for others has always been stronger than her grief or rage, and that even when she had every social and personal reason to, she was and is fundamentally unable to hurt someone innocent.

Even when she's shamed or punished for it by herself or by others. RAYLA: The human looked up at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. RUNAAN: Of course he was afraid, but you a job to do! (1x01)

EZRAN: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared, and you knew he was a person, just like you. RAYLA: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do. (1x08)

The Cosmic Council — and to a degree, the Silvergrove — say that the reasonings or motivations, the intentions, behind Leola and Rayla's actions do not and should not matter when it comes out to doling 'Justice'. So Leola faces her justice, being literally killed in the one manner that can kill a Startouch elf, and so does Rayla, being metaphorically Ghosted / 'murdered' by her community, regardless.

Neither are enough to ultimately quell their light or their love/power, however.

A Star

RAYLA: That beautiful shining star you just pointed out? We call it Leola's Last Wish. (5x02)

So both Leola and Rayla are stars in season 6, literally and metaphorically respectively. Leola's is more self-explanatory, whereas Rayla's is mostly about the role she has in Callum's life as a guiding light and star. I don't think it's a coincidence, though, that just as Rayla placed Callum on his path of being a primal mage, though, that Leola did the same for humanity. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Callum's love for Rayla restores Callum's own light and agency amid Leola giving humanity the same through light and fire.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. (TDP shorts, Ripples)

In this way, we see the manifestation of a repeating parallel of Rayla representing Leola, a gift giver of life, magic, light, unjustly punished/killed, and Callum representing humanity, looking to the kindest brightest star for guidance, magic, restoration, and salvation if he's just given the chance to grasp it. After all, presumably, Leola's last wish would have something to do with primal magic and humanity, and who represents that better than Callum, with two arcana under his belt and possibly more on the way? With that in mind, I want to return to another quote from earlier but with a different focus on

Ripples

Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled.

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am. With a trembling hand he touched the surface of the water. Ripples spread from his fingertips. [...] I hope the stars were watching. I hope they saw it: the moment their perfect reflections turned warped and ruined, churned to chaos by the touch of a single human hand. In this, the humans taught me another lesson. And so I touch the surface of the water. I watch the ripples spread.

Water in TDP is a strange beast, symbolically speaking. There are some more straight forward motifs (reflections, "don't try to control where the river [of life] goes, there's one thing you can know and control: yourself"). For Aaravos, it's connected to deep loss but also his own sense of patience in playing and winning his game, as illustrated above. For Rayla, it's linked to shame, self-reflection, bravery, and loss. Aaravos weeps and creates a sea upon losing Leola; Rayla says goodbye to her family by the lotus pond times three.

We don't know what water represents for Leola. Not distinctly, anyway. The best we can figure though, is that by following the through line of the Rayla and Leola parallels, that the ripples Leola wanted to send out or did send out — not the distortions caused by her father and his grief — are ones that Rayla received, and then continued.

Rayla has always been a foil to Aaravos, and this hasn't changed. She is the one who set Callum on the path initially of being a mage, which put him in Aaravos' machinations as prey; she retrieved his Key; and she's the reason Callum's done dark magic, twice. At the same time, much like the moon, Rayla carries Leola's light as much as she shoulders Aaravos' dark. She literally represents light in Callum's life, helps lead him through the darkness, and him being a primal mage and it's possible growth to other humans is the best possible thing that could've ever happened to Xadia.

Sol Regem says that "no one can save" Xadia or fix what is deeply broken. The Cosmic Council said that Leola had broken the Cosmic order and had to pay the price. Rayla has repeatedly been willing to pay the price for both hers and other's actions in hopes of making things right, of sparing others' pain. Sometimes to her detriment, but—if Rayla as Callum's one Truth could fix the darkness within him, if she's the lynchpin for breaking the Cycle, for bringing back Runaan and fixing her family's souls, in opposing and presenting mercy amid the Council's lack of mercy, in the face of Xadia's violence—

Then Rayla's act of mercy in 1x01, and potentially beyond in S7 with Callum, will be what fixes Xadia.

Leola's gift of magic is what 'broke' Xadia, and her execution is what literally did so, leading to the division of the continent. She wrongly paid the price in the absence of mercy and love. Rayla is therefore her thematic successor — welcomed this time as Light and Truth — as the carrier of Mercy and Love, and she will 'fix' Xadia through her ripples and dynamics. She will mend them back together. There will, at last, be no price to pay.

Misc. Thoughts / Predictions

One thing I was always curious about going forward into future seasons was the prospect of a 'trial' or reunification of the Silvergrove. It felt like a no-brainer the Silvergrove would have to change in order to reflect Runaan's character arc, much the way we see Katolis and the Sunfire elves change to better accommodate the new, more compassionate world order. Pre-S4 a trial felt a little strange as an idea, though post-S4 the parallels it could provide to the Lucia tribunal made more sense about why include either (or both).

However, Leola's trial seemed to hammer home the almost necessity (as this is still a prediction, after all, that may not happen) of Rayla and/or Runaan saying their peace to the Silvergrove leaders. This would be a great opportunity to provide a contrast to the Cosmic Council, reaffirming that Xadia is ultimately better than them because the Moonshadow elves and everyone else can change, and the Cosmic Council seemingly cannot or will not. But I guess we'll have to wait for S7 or beyond (#GiveUsTheSaga) to find out if this'll come to fruition or not.

I also wanted to touch on what we see with Leola ("I'm so scared!") and the repeated emphasis on "recognizing fear as a moment of empathy and personhood" and the horror that can come if you don't have that moment of recognition. This is something I've touched on before most notably as a striking difference between S1 Rayla and S5 Claudia, but I thought it was worth mentioning as S6 added to it specifically with Viren towards Soren and Lissa. This is another point in the "Rayla is an inversion of the Council's lack of mercy" column, as Leola's — a child's fear, and Aaravos willing to pay the price and take her place — earns her no mercy. Rayla, meanwhile, sees someone innocent that she has 'every right' to execute is afraid of her, and that strays her hand; it steadies her sword, and she spares him. Because if someone is afraid of you, it's worth asking yourself why, and what you might want to do instead.

Last but not least I wanted to talk about Leola's parallels to Callum and Ezran as well, since they are very much there (though yet not perhaps to the same extent).

Ezran has Leola's friendliness to animals and soft heart. He too is a child whose death is called for as a means of Justice, and he is granted mercy through Rayla and the discovery of the egg, able to live and grow and help usher in peace. He is, I think, what Leola might've been allowed to be if she'd lived in different times. Callum, meanwhile, carries the gift giving motif through his cube, staff, and tokens he both gives to (moon-phoenix bracelet) and receives (the moon opal necklace) from Rayla, and previous 'human-Leola' magic dynamic. Callum being able to break free fully from Aaravos' and dark magic's control in S7 and turn his eye instead to primal magic will be what helps bring true justice to Leola and hope for humanity / Xadia in righting the Cosmic Council's fundamental wrongdoing. Hopefully, anyway.

Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into some parallels and potential narrative goings-on between Leola and Rayla as characters. TDP loves its historical and ironic layers in TDP (Ez and the Orphan Queen, Viren's arc from S1 to S6) and I think this layered thematic dynamic between the two merciful young girls was a good, brilliant choice by the creative team. I'm excited to see where this thematic thread goes in the future and how it may continue to be woven into the story. As always, thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the next one.

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, happy new year! Love your Elijah fics. Maybe you could do one where he turns off his humanity and the reader gets him to turn it back on again. :)

Cold Truth

{Masterlist}

You and Klaus are on a mission to turn Elijah's humanity switch back on. The only problem is that you are the reason he turned it off in the first place.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23 - this one hurt! ♡♡~

4.3k words - Warnings: no smut, but so much angst, dramatic as fuck, violence, kidnapping, Klaus being Klaus, slightly spicy right at the end.

The air was thick with tension as you struggled in your restraints, glancing at Klaus as he drove down an empty street. He was humming to himself, looking very relaxed despite the fact that he was holding you hostage.

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me," you muttered, tugging on the cuffs that were binding your hands together. "We broke up, it's not a big deal," you added.

"Well, it seems to be a big deal to him," Klaus said, shooting you a knowing smirk. "And it's been affecting my life, so now it's a big deal to me."

You sighed and stared out the window, watching the scenery blur as you moved through the town. You didn't want to tell Klaus the details of your break up with Elijah, it was all too painful. But here you were, getting kidnapped by him, on your way to see Elijah, probably about to get murdered by the man you still loved. Great. 

"It won't work you know," you said, staring blankly out the windshield, feeling that little bit of hope in your chest die out. 

"I get that he doesn't have emotions anymore," you continued, "so he definitely doesn't care about you. Whatever little plan you have going, won't work." You sounded desperate to even your own ears, and you hated it, but at least Elijah's lack of feelings gave you an excuse not to be a complete mess when you were in his presence again. He wouldn't care, he was devoid of compassion and guilt. The thought filled your heart with an emptiness that spread to the rest of your body. You let the feeling encompass you, numbing yourself against the pain, because once this ordeal was over, you would be forced to finally accept that Elijah was really, truly, lost forever.

Klaus laughed and turned, shooting you a smirk. "I've done my fair share of terrible things," he began.

"But," he sighed and stopped laughing, "even I can see what a complete shit show this is. You broke up with him a week ago, and he flipped the switch immediately. This whole thing has been dramatic, even for my tastes."

"Oh please," you sneered, turning to glare at him. "You live for drama," you said, rolling your eyes.

Klaus snickered, shaking his head as if it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Yes, well, as fun as this has been, there's only so much of it I can take."

You huffed and sighed, slumping in your seat as the light turned green. You turned away from him and tried not to let your anxiety show.

"Look," Klaus began, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I'm going to be straight with you, love. Your break up with Elijah has been, inconvenient, to put it simply. He no longer cares about my well-being or the things I do. All he wants to do is feed, kill, drink and maim. I thought I would enjoy this side of him, but it turns out, the guy's a bloody asshole. And since you might have the ability to bring him out of this mess, it's in my best interest to try and help you."

You turned your head slowly, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. "You sure do have a way of showing it. Kidnapping is pretty terrible Klaus. Do you have any idea how scared I am right now? Not only have you kidnapped me, you are forcing me to confront my ex-boyfriend after I dumped him."

"I've done plenty to upset Elijah, but he's never flipped the switch over it. What exactly did you do to him?" Klaus demanded. He leaned closer to you, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he parked the car. "I'd suggest you start talking, sweetheart," he drawled, giving you a pointed look.

You bit your lip nervously, breaking under his intense gaze. Your shoulders dropped in defeat and you looked at your lap, chewing the inside of your cheek. You told him the truth, finally letting someone in on the secret you had kept from everyone.

"I told him that I didn't love him anymore, okay? I don't know," you trailed off, tears threatening to escape your eyes. "Look, I just, I needed to tell him something and that seemed easier than telling him the truth."

"So what's the truth?" Klaus asked gently. You couldn't bear to look him in the eye, so you stayed still and stayed quiet, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing in your ears as you fought the urge to cry. After a few seconds, Klaus said your name softly, and when you looked up at him, there was genuine sympathy in his eyes.

You swallowed, trying to get ahold of yourself before you fell apart completely. "I want children, Klaus," you admitted. "And he can't give them to me. But it's okay, we broke up, and I'm fine." You were most definitely not fine, but that was beside the point. You finally confessed the truth, and felt a small bit of relief.

"Oh," he said. "Do you not want to adopt? Wouldn't surrogacy be an option? I can make a phone call and have a baby delivered to your door by tomorrow," he offered. You laughed, appreciating his attempts to make you feel better.

"No, Klaus. I'm sorry. I appreciate you trying, really I do," you said, giving him a sincere smile. "I want to have his child, and that is... well... impossible," you sighed.

There was a moment of silence, and you wondered what he was thinking. Klaus could be a lot of things, but you could tell he truly loved his siblings, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. His devotion was almost as intense as Elijah's and fear bubbled up in your stomach, knowing you were now in the crossfire of his affections for his older brother.

"You aren't still in love with him, are you?" Klaus asked. You felt your insides tremble at the mere mention of Elijah, but it wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or your head swirl. All you could feel was sorrow, because you knew how painful it would be to see him again. To be near him, but unable to touch him.

Klaus tilted his head, waiting for your answer. When he didn't get one, he asked again. "Answer the question, love," he said.

"Of course I still love him," you mumbled. "How could I not? I will always love him." You chuckled sadly, shaking your head and shrugging. 

"Good, that will make this easier," Klaus said cheerfully, not sure how to react as he began fiddling with the radio station.

"He's going to kill me Klaus," you said, your voice flat and emotionless. "You're dragging me to him, and he's going to torture me or compel me into doing something bad and then when he's finished, he's going to kill me."

"Yes, possibly," Klaus agreed. "However, you could also bring him back and thus make my life a bit easier."

"We can only hope," you sighed. Klaus started driving towards the docks and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to control the terror building within you.

"Klaus, where are we going?" you asked warily, looking around.

"Well, my dear brother isn't answering his phone, so I'm tracking it instead," he said, gritting his teeth as he continued driving.

"Can we please just leave him alone?" you begged, but he didn't seem to hear you.

"Please," you added. "I'm begging you, Klaus. Don't torture me like this, I'm not strong enough to lose him twice."

"I really don't care how you feel about this, darling," he said, reaching a hand up and patting your head, before returning it to the steering wheel. "But don't worry, I promise I won't let him kill you."

You would have responded, but Klaus took the last turn and parked in front of one of the ships on the docks. He removed the handcuffs, his eyes darting about your surroundings in paranoia as he grabbed your wrists and dragged you out of the car. You didn't put up a fight and let him pull you along, too frightened and confused to even think about struggling. This wasn't what you had been expecting when Klaus took you, and now you didn't know what to say, so you remained silent and obedient. Klaus released his grip and took a step back, heading up the ramp to the ship.

You took a shaky breath and followed him, shivering a bit as you stepped on board. There was music playing, and while the exterior of the boat looked fairly plain, the inside was quite posh and immaculately decorated. You hesitated, glancing at Klaus, but he nodded his head and you followed him into a room. You could sense that Elijah was close. You slowly breathed in and your nose twitched when you caught the strong scent of bourbon.

"I see you have already begun celebrating, brother," Klaus drawled, glancing around the room.

"That depends on how you define celebration," came a quiet response, and you shuddered at the sound of his voice. It was Elijah, your Elijah, his words ringing with a lack of inflection that wasn't entirely evident in his tone. It had a falsely polite, and strangely charming touch, like the cold indifference and arrogance that comes from experiencing and achieving total freedom.

You watched as he poured himself another glass, sitting back in a chair. He stared straight ahead, not meeting your eyes as he lifted the glass to his lips, swirling the alcohol, tipping it slightly, and watching it roll around, before putting it down again, not even having taken a sip. You sniffed, doing your best to control your emotions and expression as you watched him, but your mask was slipping, and you couldn't hide the raw pain in your voice when you spoke.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sounding raspy and hoarse, even to your own ears. Normally, it would have made him feel guilty to hear you like this. Maybe he would have replied in his usual soft, intimate tone, grabbing your chin and kissing your lips gently, holding you close. But your Elijah was dead, and there was nothing left but the monster the switch had transformed him into. You glanced at his face and looked away immediately, the coldness in his dark eyes sinking into your soul. They were beautiful, and deadly, gazing at you in cold assessment, and his expression did not change as he gave you a humorless smile.

"I have never been better," he replied, not moving from his relaxed position on the chair, though you noticed a slight tightening in his jaw when you opened your mouth to speak again. You quickly snapped it shut and watched as he tapped the glass with his finger, gazing around the room and sighing. You didn't know if his admission was a good or a bad thing, but the way he carried himself, all arrogant grace and calculated casualness, had alarm bells ringing in your head, telling you that you were in great danger.

It was worse than you had expected. The man you loved, the one who had treated you with such gentleness and tenderness, the man whose heart was filled with love, loyalty and affection for you, was not present at all.

"We shouldn't have come here," you blurted out, your throat constricting at the sudden fear gripping you. His eyes flicked up to look at you, his brow furrowed as he stared. You cleared your throat, casting a worried glance at Klaus, who was standing by the bar, sipping his own drink and watching the whole scene play out.

"Why? What is the problem?" Elijah asked, and you couldn't tell if he was acting cavalier or genuinely didn't care. "You said you wanted to break up, and I obliged you. So tell me," he said, his dark eyes meeting yours, "why are you here?"

"Because," you began, but quickly lost your train of thought, shaking your head and trying to shake the overwhelming urge to cry. You sucked in a deep breath, tilting your chin up as you spoke. "Because we still have stuff we need to talk about, and we can't when you are like this."

"Like what?" he asked, sounding bored. Your jaw clenched as he casually poured himself more alcohol, draining the contents of his glass quickly and sighing.

"Well," Klaus interrupted, walking over and leaning forward on his knees, "You could start by being a tad less cocky, and try actually listening."

Elijah smirked at him, arching an eyebrow. "Niklaus, I suggest you shut your mouth before I rip your tongue out."

"That would be amusing," Klaus shot back, rolling his eyes. "I'd like to see you try, or have you forgotten I am stronger than you? You can't hurt me."

"Hmm," Elijah hummed thoughtfully, staring intently at his younger brother. "Let's test that."

Before either of you could react, Elijah reached out and grabbed the back of Klaus' head, yanking him forward and bringing his face inches from his own. He glared at him, snarling as Klaus groaned in pain.

"Don't be ridiculous," Klaus growled, his fingers flexing. Klaus easily pried his hands off of him and forced him to release him. He shoved Elijah back into the chair, a vicious smirk on his face as he crossed his arms.

"Eli," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. You moved to touch his arm, but he snatched it out of your reach and pushed it back, baring his fangs at you, his eyes completely black.

"Do not call me that," he responded coldly, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't have brought her," Elijah said to his brother, and you felt the sadness you had been suppressing all day come rushing back full force. You would not be strong enough to get through this.

"Oh don't blame me, dear brother," Klaus retorted, clasping his hands together and glaring at him in frustration. "It's very much her fault that you turned your humanity off, so I brought her here to fix her mistake."

"A mistake I care not to rectify," Elijah said, lifting his chin up haughtily.

"Oh," Klaus scoffed, fixing him with a nasty glare, "I bet you don't."

"Shut up," you mumbled, blinking furiously. Your legs were shaking, your knees about to give out as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Klaus stepped closer to you and you leaned against him, trembling, clinging to his shirt.

"Get a grip," Klaus hissed, glaring down at you in annoyance. He wrapped a hand around your throat and turned you around to face Elijah. His grip tightened, and you gasped in surprise and pain, your eyes wide as they met Elijah's intense gaze. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, something within him stirred at the sight of your fear, but it was buried beneath the ice of his indifference. Elijah narrowed his eyes as he stood up, smoothing down his tie as he approached.

"Niklaus, you are so painfully transparent," he began, an edge of amusement coloring his tone, "I do not care if you hurt her," he added, and his words cut deeper than any physical blow could.

"Eli," you pleaded, a soft whisper of pure agony coming from your lips, "How could you possibly say that? You swore you would always take care of me, protect me." He lowered his eyes, studying your features carefully. He looked down at you, stroking his chin.

"Hmm, you know, now that you say that, I'm feeling a little thirsty," he said, chuckling and stepping closer.

You shut your eyes, stifling a sob and trying to hide the fact that his words had broken your heart, shattering it into pieces. You couldn't bear his mockery, it was almost worse than not having him at all. It made the excruciating pain much more unbearable. Elijah stared at you, leaning closer and brushing a stray hair off of your cheek.

His lips hovered over yours for a split second, causing your lips to part in surprise and confusion, wanting his mouth to capture yours, knowing that the press of his lips was something you would always miss. Even when he was a monster, you felt yourself reacting to him instinctively, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But the kiss did not come, and he pulled away before you could rise to meet him.

"Do you think she knows how many ways she can die?" Elijah asked his brother, and Klaus sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I mean, with enough patience and creativity, even the simplest forms of death, can be quite extraordinary," he drawled.

Klaus pulled you back from Elijah, his grip on you tightening, you weren't sure who you feared more in that moment. "Elijah, I made a promise that I would not let you kill her," Klaus said, and Elijah rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing.

"That promise can easily be broken," he said, as if talking about the weather.

"Actually, I thought I would take a page out of your book, find a loophole in the promise I made," Klaus said, his voice taunting as he smiled cruelly. You stopped breathing at his words, your body going rigid, Klaus was going to kill you.

"Elijah?" you whispered desperately, praying that he would protect you from Klaus. You were so cold, and you couldn't move, rooted in place with fear. He turned around abruptly, shrugging his shoulders as he walked across the room to make a new drink.

"You can go ahead and drain her if you so wish. It makes no difference to me," he said.

"Sorry love, I have to call his bluff," Klaus said, patting your head and then running a hand through your hair as his fangs grazed your neck. His voice was dark and malicious. "Say your goodbyes," he smirked.

"Klaus, please," you cried, panic coursing through you, but before he could do anything more, Elijah lunged at him, tearing him away from you. Your back hit the floor hard, your head snapping against the wood, causing you to see stars. You cradled your head, tasting blood in your mouth as you rolled on the floor. Elijah tackled Klaus, growling and snarling viciously, his fingers clenched around his brother's neck as he pinned him to the ground.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her," Elijah warned, but Klaus only smirked, using all his strength to shove Elijah off of him. Elijah's back connected with a pillar, falling to the floor as he clutched his head. He just sat there, head in his hands, his shoulders slumped, taking quick, shuddering breaths, attempting to regain some sort of composure. You crawled your way over to him, too dazed to stand up.

"Eli," you gasped, lifting his face up and forcing him to look at you. He didn't try to pull away, letting you caress his jaw. You slowly stroked his hair, shushing him gently as your fingers trailed over his cheekbones.

"Get away from me," he groaned, grabbing your wrist to keep you from touching him. His mind was reeling from the violent overload of emotions coursing through him. Having you here, so close to him, wanting him, loving him, it overwhelmed him, bringing back every single moment he had spent with you, every beautiful, painful, joyous moment of his entire existence.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you sobbed, reaching out to touch him. He wasn't pushing you away, he was just sitting there, hunched over, breathing heavily. Your mind was too foggy to think about the consequences of your actions. There was an excruciating ache in your chest, and you needed Elijah to hold you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips to the back of his neck, nuzzling him and letting tears stream down your face. He stilled, not fighting you, but not holding you.

"I lied to you Elijah, I'm sorry," you whispered, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as you hugged him tighter. "I love you, I never stopped. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

He didn't move, keeping his expression guarded as he put an arm around you, turning his body slightly to pull you in closer. He tilted his chin down and pressed his lips to the side of your head in a gentle kiss. His eyes were closed, your scent invading his nose, your hair tickling his neck. He sighed, your words, your presence, it was like a spark lighting up a flame of emotions in his chest as the switch in his head turned back on.

"I could never stop loving you," he murmured, opening his eyes and sitting up a bit, keeping you close to him.

"Well, looks like my work is done. Do give her a ride home when you are done, Elijah," Klaus drawled, smirking in triumph as he stood watching you, before swiftly making his way out of the room.

Elijah gripped your chin gently and forced you to turn to face him. You were horrified by the sadness in his dark eyes, but the relief you felt at seeing the love there tore you apart, and you burst into tears, gripping his face and pulling him towards you, kissing his lips, his jaw, his forehead, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

"Darling," he sighed, looking down at your tear stained face. He gently ran his thumb over your cheekbone, bringing your forehead to his as he just held you.

"Forgive me, I-I-was so scared," you managed to get out, but he hushed you, your breathing synchronizing as he hugged you tightly, running a hand through your hair.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked, pulling away and stroking your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath his touch.

"I was afraid," you replied, sniffing and wiping your tears. "I didn't want to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to let you go if I pushed you away instead."

"What were you afraid of?" he questioned, guiding your face up, needing to see your beautiful, tear filled eyes.

"I was terrified at the prospect of getting old, growing old, and putting you through that. You'd have to watch as you lived a lifetime with me, and eventually I would be gone and you would be left alone," you gasped out, the words flowing out unbidden, unable to control yourself now that the gates had been opened. "and.. I want children of my own, and a family, I can't have all of that with you. This past week I've been so torn, I thought leaving you was the best thing to do, because I knew my choice would hurt you, and you didn't deserve that, and I didn't know how else to do this."

Elijah smiled sadly, shaking his head and cupping your cheeks. "None of that matters, my darling, and it never will. Don't you understand that? You are worth the heartache, the pain, the loss. You are worth being human for."

He kissed you gently, brushing your hair out of your face, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as you fisted your hands in his shirt, allowing him to pour all of his love and heartache into the kiss. You were left breathless, staring into his eyes, seeing the sadness there that matched yours.

"As for children, I know a few witches that could help us solve that issue," he said. You blinked rapidly, stunned that his answer was so easy, simple. The corners of his lips quirked up, and you felt your heart thundering in your chest, desperate to have him, keep him forever.

"Do you want that? To have children with me?" you asked, your hands in his, hoping, praying, that he truly understood what he was getting himself into.

"With you, yes, anything you wish for, I will give you," he replied, resting his head on your shoulder, and nuzzling your neck. You drew in a deep breath, so relieved and overcome with a surge of emotions that you grabbed his head and planted another firm, passionate kiss on his lips.

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that had you smiling despite all the tears you were shedding. Your fingers were clutching at his shirt, dragging him closer to you as you continued to kiss him, memorizing everything, his taste, the curves of his lips, the way his tongue felt against yours. He put his arm around your waist, and shifted, scooping you up into his lap, and into his arms.

"When was the last time we made love?" he whispered against your lips, pulling away and looking into your eyes, his gaze caressing your features softly.

"Three months," you whispered, stroking his stubbled jaw, running your fingers over his lips, marveling at the feel of his warm, soft skin, thinking that you almost never had the chance to be with him again.

"That's much too long," he murmured, sliding his hands up your thighs and grinning seductively. You chuckled, feeling a heated blush creep up your neck and spread across your cheeks. His fingers traced the edge of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"I love you, Elijah Mikaelson," you said, grinning broadly as your fingers threaded through his hair, savoring the feel of it. He just sat, staring at you with warmth and adoration, unspoken love shining in his deep brown eyes.

"For eternity, I will love you, my y/n," he whispered, pressing his lips gently against yours, and you melted into him, gripping the back of his neck as you felt a piece of your soul slide back into place, wrapped tightly around his heart.

[rosesdrop]

Pick a pile

Their feelings for you

Pile 1:

This person wants you to forgive them; they want to restore balance once again in this relationship. They want you to be as caring and excited for them as you were before. They know that you are interested in other things currently and that your thoughts are not all about them; sometimes they think that you have forgotten about them. They believe that you are intentionally putting limits and barriers between you. They want you to give them another chance and to reevaluate the situation once again. They want you two to discuss this disagreement and then try to find a solution that suits you both. They don't want either of you to be forced to do something or be misunderstood by the other; therefore, being victims of this whole dynamic, they want both of you to be fulfilled and have your needs met equally. They honestly have good intentions and seem mature in the way they solve disputes. They do care about you and your happiness. They are not deceitful; whatever they say is what they truly mean. 

Pile 2:

This person could be harsh with their words, and the way they speak is explosive. They're easily triggered, and they feel like you trigger them easily. They think that you don't think before speaking, and this sometimes hurts their pride. They don't know what to do about this connection or how to handle it properly. They act out of impulse and end up creating a lot of problems; they always seem to come up with a new disaster; they're troublesome and foggy-minded. They're almost like a child who needs guidance on what to do all the time. They don't know how to make decisions. They end up frustrating a lot of people because of this. The way they feel about you is very superficial. They keep creating an image of you that makes them act a certain way according to it. They live in their heads. You might feel like you're dealing with a wall. They do whatever is in their heads without considering anything else. They were used to being this way, and they want to say that it's hard for them to change. They're terrified of change, and they feel like you are triggering them in that way. 

Pile 3:

They have known you for a while, they feel a sense of familiarity with you, you make them feel comfortable, and they honestly feel like you are some kind of soulmate to them or that you are meant to be together. If it's a friend or someone from your family that you're asking about, then you are the person that they like the most and feel very close to. They feel like you two are similar in plenty of things and that you are two sides of the same coin, they truly adore you. If it's a romantic situation, then they feel like you are their future spouse or something. Or that you are their dream person. They can see themselves doing everything with you; you two get along very well. A sense of peace and happiness encompasses them when you're together; they truly never get enough of your company. They may sometimes be self-doubtful and feel like they are not enough for you. Or that you wouldn't see them as greatly as they see you. They have their doubts about this. They don't know for sure if you think of them the way they do; they could only guess by the great chemistry and compatibility between you, but it's not enough to cease their self-conscious thoughts. They wish you could be more affectionate towards them because they're not very sure of themselves; they doubt things a lot, so they want you to assure them and show love towards them more often. They would be really happy, and this would ease their worries a lot.

[pilot-boi]

Any possibility of Fusion AU stuff? Like people being able to sync their auras to temporarily merge into a new person?

The first time it happens (that anyone knows about and believes) is at the Battle of Haven.

Jaune is putting pressure on Weiss's wound, things are looking bad. Ruby is unconscious, Yang is crumbling, and his teammates are close to death. He can't do anything.

Weiss could.

If she wasn't dying because of him, she'd be able to help their friends. If he was in her place (and how he wishes he was, as least they wouldn't have to deal with his failures anymore) then Weiss would be able to help them.

Not for the first time in his life, Jaune finds himself wishing he was someone else.

The actual first time it happens is during the Fall of Beacon. Nobody was around to see it, save a lone champion and a desperate knight.

Their first kiss is their last goodbye, and for a second Jaune feels like he IS Pyrrha, like he can FEEL her longing, grief, and resignation. He feels? She feels? They feel? Despair, and love, so all encompassing that they can't tell where they start and the other begins.

And then the moment is over, and when one of them wrenches away it feels like they're being torn apart at the seams.

Jaune stands there, Pyrrha stands there, dazed and confused. She pushes him away, Jaune can feel her soul clinging to his, and the locker takes off.

He feels her die, like he's dying.

Weeks later, he's still not sure if it was real or grief. It (whatever it was) only lasted a few seconds at most. And nobody can blame him when he says he felt like someone else entirely. The Fall did that to a lot of people.

And now here he is again, holding another dying friend in his arms. Wishing that he was someone else, feeling like he's going to shatter into pieces if he has to lose one more friend.

He needs to get up, he needs to fight, he needs to help their friends. She needs to get up, she needs to fight, she needs to help their friends.

They need to live.

And then between one blink and the next, they are someone else. Someone new. And when Nora turns around, Jaune and Weiss are nowhere to be seen.

In their place laying in the puddle of Weiss's blood is a complete stranger (familiar, in a weird way), blinking and pressing their glowing hands over a gaping wound in their stomach.

[ghost-bison]

Doctor Who: 1x08 The Satan Pit (2006) / 60th anniversary special 2/3 Wild Blue Yonder (2023)

I frankly love that parallel. One scene taken out of each of the two RTD eras.

First there's the colour palettes. You can see that they're polar opposites. RTD era1 was warm all the time as talked about in this post (which I love dearly, I keep referencing it in my posts), and then we have RTD era2, which has a more modern-looking, colder palette for science fiction.

But it's also a directing choice for the mood I think, cause on the one hand, we have Rose who, we all know, would even give up on seeing her mum again if it meant she got to spend the rest of her life with the Doctor (quite like Donna back in series 4 actually, who was very prompt to say she was going to travel with Ten forever). On the other hand we have Donna in 2023 who's now got a daughter and a husband and who hadn't even planned on doing a trip with the Doctor in the first place, let alone at the edge of the universe. I mean, they were just supposed to go see Wilfred! On one side we have Ten who's slowly recovering from the trauma of the Time War and falling in love for the first time in a while and re-learning that he deserves to be loved, too. On the other side we have Fourteen who, just as Donna put it, is "staggering", and as Fifteen said, is "running on fumes". He's got FOUR regenerations worth of trauma on Ten who was already struggling as it was with one (since the Time War I mean. Maybe two if we count Nine, cause who knows what he's been through between his regeneration and meeting Rose). Fourteen went through losing Rose, Donna, Amy, Rory, River, Clara, Bill, and he went through Pandorica, billions of years imprisoned by the Time Lords in his own personal hell, finding out about the Timeless Child, etc... and now, on top of everything, he's got to deal face to face with the guilt of what he did to Donna as she's been given back to him. Anyway, it's dark, when you think about it. No wonder the colours are so much colder in Wild Blue Yonder.

Then there's the music. In The Satan Pit, the soundtrack, The Impossible Planet, has a mystical quality to it. It's slightly creepy (I mean, it IS an episode about Satan), but it's mostly mysterious. Ten and Rose are only 500 years away from home. But in Wild Blue Yonder, Fourteen and Donna are 100 TRILLION YEARS away from home. The soundtrack from that scene, The Edge of Creation, isn't just mysterious, it's eerie and ethereal and perfectly encompasses what it would feel like to stand somewhere so impossibly alien it has become supernatural (if you can't tell I am obsessed with that track and episode lmao).

I love the contrast between Rose and Donna and the questions they ask. Rose's question is cute, she's like "I've seen it in films, is that it?", it stems from a place of curiosity, like she doesn't really realize the deep shit that they're in. She's just a kid. Whereas Donna's question, it stems from a place of dread: "Where's the light?". It almost has a "The Licked Hand" quality to it (if you don't know that story: the girl is scared, she puts her hand under the bed, her dog licks it. She goes into the bathroom, finds her dog dead in the tub, and written in its blood are the words 'humans can lick too').

Then, finally, there's the order in which things have been done: in The Satan Pit, Rose remarks they're "a long way from home". Ten takes a long look at her, and seeing that she seems a bit scared, he explains to her how long it would take to get home. In Wild Blue Yonder, Fourteen first explains to Donna how long it would take to get home, and only THEN, he takes a long look at her, and finally Donna says "that's my family, over there". It parallels Rose's sentence in the sense that they both talk about home and how far away it is, but they use different words for it with a different meaning behind. Donna is more specific on what she'll be returning to when it's over (her family), whereas Rose, who isn't as grounded as her, just says "home" (which, for her, probably just means the place she grew up). I also love the contrast between Rose's "a long way" and Donna's "over there". The first implies foreign, the second implies close enough to see. What's interesting about this bit is Donna is further away from home than Rose is, geographically speaking. But for Rose, Home is actually the Doctor, just him, so she has no problem saying she's "a long way from home" since she doesn't mean it in the same way Donna would. So for Donna, when she says "over there", it's because the Home she's talking about is closer to her heart, and she's probably trying to reassure herself that she'll see her family again (I used to do something like that when I was in primary school, I'd travel all the way back to my house in my head to kiss my parents on the cheek because I was so homesick).

So that's that I guess

[ghostreblogging]

Damian stands before the corpse of his brother.

Is it a corpse? He doesn't know.

They had come to this lonely stretch of land that was once called amity park because something something. Damian hadn't really cared. It was supposed to be a simple get in and get out situation . They were already much busier with their own cases .

Eerie ruined houses and buildings seemed to paint a rather depressing picture. Because you could feel that people used to live here. Half drunken bottles and stollers were out. Just like if everyone just disappeares while walking. But the rotting flesh In the strollers seemed to suggest that darker things have happened here. The everyday norm seemed to frame the gateway to hell. The green glow was the only thing that was truly out of the ordinary.

Perhaps it's just an opening to another Lazarus pit.

But It doesn't feel like a normal Lazarus pit . Damian would know that better than anyone. It somehow felt brighter. And an electric buzz permeated the air. It felt sickening. The destroyed sign makes somewhat of an archway for the entrance. It says Fen- something something? The letter had long fallen off from the elements

"God, bloody hell. This place just reeks of infinite realms," the laughing magician commented before pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

"Infinite realms?" Father grunted

"Don't get your panties twisted. There's a reason I didn't tell you about them, the more you know the harder they are to deal with"

There were more mindless chatter between his family. But Damian ignored that in favor of staring down the archway . It felt like a cold shiver on his back and a horrible burning sensation on the palm of his right hand. Weird.

Damian knew that what awaited him was death. He didn't know whose though.

"Do you feel that?" Damian asked before he could stop himself

Grayson turned to look at him, raising his eyebrow. "Babybat, what? What feeling?"

Damian knew he already walked into communication.

"The cold shiver, and the burning sensation on your right palm"

"Ha! Just sounds like your scared demon brat"

"Forget it"

And they promptly walked into hell.

Damian I've missed you so much! But it's dangerous here. You'll get caught by him

Inside Damian felt as if he was walking for years. All with that , horrible disgusting smell. Burnt flesh and plastic. So overwhelming that his eyes stung even through his mask. He had to wake with his eyes half closed. Stumbling his way through the uneven terrain.

Winding corridors made out of crushed rubble.

Damian , be careful there is sharp glass there

Eerie glow that never seems to get closer.

Damian? I really don't like the Lazarus pits

It was dark and an encompassing ceiling above him felt like spiderwebs, a trap. But beyond that you could see the sky.

Hey Damian? Let's go stargazing again!

Hey Damian please don't go further

Something kept bothering him but he didn't know what. But he kept on walking.

And eventually they found themselves in a big chamber. Lazarus pit waters filled the caver like a lake. Beautiful flowers that seemed misplaced grow up to the sky.

The sky.

Maybe that was the source of the discomfort?. They came in at dawn.

It shouldn't have been dark .

And the stars were wrong. How long did they walk for?

Long enough. Just go please

There was a huge rift. Beyond were Lazarus green lands with floating landscapes. Sometimes you could see something big float by . Damian wonders if they were living or just a part of the landscape.

Beautifully enchanting. Like freedom, feeling of wind on your ski-

And then Damian's eyes fell on the thing. How could he have not noticed that.

Please get away that is not me that is not me that is not me that is not me

Like some kind of a lost puppet it was hung in front of the rift. That was the source of the smell. A white suit that once had been sterile, burnt and fused with the flesh below. Dark burnt hair that hung and thankfully concealed the empty eyes.

For once Damian was thankful he couldn't see something. He just felt that if he saw the thing's eyes, he would never recover.

Because that face.

He knew that face

It was one of he had forgotten a long time ago.

Damian please that is not me plEase. I aM LOSiNg my SeLF

A brother that went missing during a mission.

"God what the fuck is that" Grayson's voice broke Damian's trance.

Damian frowned. It didn't feel appropriate to talk here.

Hide. Hide hide hide hide

A voice broke the silence soon after.

"I advise you to leave immediately" a familiar voice. From the oh so familiar corpse . It grated against his ears. And the corpse moved in tandem. Exaggerated and cartoonish but in a horrid way like a machine struggling to run in their later years. It felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.

Hey Damian let's not go here

Damian it's not a good idea to be here take you family and leave

Damian, let's go another route

I can barely maintain luciedicy please listen to me

"I advice you to leave immediately" just like clockwork. The exact same tone, the exact same horrid little dance.

"Well we can't. Well we can't before we know why In the everliving earth there is a direct portal to the infinite realms here." Constantine seemed to have nonchalance as he spoke but Damian saw his cold sweat. And eyes darting , trying to look anywhere but directly at it .

The corpse directly ignored Constantine. It turned to him . Each movement sharp and gutted.

"Damian we are finally together again :) "

[midnight-bay-if]

Hi! Love the demo! Can't wait for more!

But do write at your own pace, would hate to see another author with great potential burnt themselves out. ♥️

Just saw the ROs dying in MC's arm ask, and can't help but think my MC probably won't be able to move on lol

So if the ROs somehow turned to a ghost or like having other consciousness that makes them able to see the MC. Seeing the MC having a real tough time dealing with the loss, or not dealing with them at all, slowly ruining themself both physically and mentally. What are the ROs thoughts/reacts/feels?

(Hi, anon! Thank you so much ❤️ Sorry this took so long.)

S: They stand guard as a spectral sentinel through an endless abyss, watching but unable to interfere. It is torture. Every time a stray tear slips down your cheek or a cry of frustration tears through your throat, they yearn to reach out as they once did, to rest their forehead against your own and whisper, "I'm here". But they can't. They utter words of reassurance into your ear, knowing you will not hear, whilst in the same breath chastising themselves for leaving you.

Even if you will never know the truth, they will stay. They will guard. And they will pray for the day you set them aside.

Rain: They hear your cries even when they have ceased; they replay inside their mind, encasing them in a hurricane of regret. They are trapped inside a whirlpool of their own making, destined to watch your sorrow behind the veil that separates life from death. In your darkest hours, they curl up next to you and place a comforting hand on yours, despite the fact neither of you can feel it.

A part of them hopes that one day, by some miracle, you will. "I never left. I never will."

Taj: This isn't what they wanted. It is a rare individual who prepares readily for death, but Taj tried. Their entire life has been a set of new contingencies, readying themselves for sacrifice. Even after meeting you, they bruised you with pommelling words and fracturing remarks so you could learn to raise your head above them. They hoped to have taught you enough that your strength would keep your head high even after they were gone.

Only now do they realise they were planning for the wrong thing. They should have fought to stay alive and remain by your side instead. "I'm sorry, Koel," they whisper into the endless space between you, "I failed you."

N: They have never been one to sit idle. At first, they allowed themselves to be consumed by the weight of your grief, basking in it even in death. Before meeting you, death was not even a passing thought in their consciousness. Death was something they brought to others, not the other way around. You changed everything. For the first time, N feared death but, in the same breath, became overjoyed with the notion that someone might miss them after they were gone.

Bearing witness now to what that means is much more crushing than they ever anticipated.

So, they do what they do best. They plot. If it is possible to find a way to reach you, to find their way back through the endless nothing, they will. Even if it takes the rest of your life. And should they fail, they will be the first to take your hand and welcome you to eternity.

Umbra: It feels familiar. But also different. The weightlessness of death encompasses them like an old friend, but it feels emptier than ever before. Perhaps because you are no longer within reach. They took it for granted, the time that you had. A lifetime would not have been enough for them, so how do they come to terms with less?

They see your struggle, and they know you feel it, too. Both of you, two sides of the same coin, tugging at the cut string of fate, hoping it will weave itself back together. It doesn't. But that does not mean there is nothing to be done. They have been here before, suffering a crushing isolation to keep watching from the shadows. They are the shadows. Every time a shadow seems darker than black, that is where they are.

They were promised a lifetime with you; they intend to check that in.

"I'm not going anywhere," they whisper, standing guard for your grief. "Not again."