#anon i'm barking at the wall right now

[brocksfaber]

Do you have any thoughts about Kirill and Hartzy and the dog like qualities of that. Hartzy/dog as a symbol of qualities of loyalty and unconditional love. And the teams need to fight for Kirill and and

"and and" and i need you to picture this: my brain on a platter spinning in the microwave. when i woke up to this ask i genuinely sat up and stared at the wall for 3 minutes straight.

you know how dogs are constantly in the new for dying for their owners ? willingly putting themselves into horribly compromising positions so that their masters have a chance to get out of said situation safely ?

when i tell you that i truly believe ryan hartman would go through the most harrowing and life ruining things just to make certain his kirill wouldn't have to endure anything like that. ryan hartman would stare down the barrel of a gun unflinchingly if only to make sure his kirill was out of shooting range. ryan fucking hartman would be the most willing victim of a time loop if only to ensure the safety and security of his kirill for the rest of their sorry existence.

don't even get me started on brock "only if it's kirill" faber. the team has proven time and time again that kirill is their boy. they would bleed out on the ice for kirill, they would and have offered their bodies up for kirill. just so that their golden boy can continue shining. their kirill. each and every one of them would be more than happy to become a sacrificial lamb if it meant kirill would be safe.

[kurokawaia]

❛ TOO POLITE ❜

Shinazugawa Sanemi X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.1k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no triggers apart from sanemi being a lil mean >.<, reader is very polite and timid, she doesn't really understand the whole concept yk, she's like innocent.

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you please do sanemi with s/o where he tries to degrade her and stuff but shes SO polite and just says Like 'sorry' and 'thank you' and obeys every command without question with like EXTREME politeness that its just too difficult to degrade, and its so cute😭 Im curious to see how he'd react. - ANON

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Sanemi had forever been known for his whiplash tongue and his rough character, he had no time for dribble, no use for sissies, and most definitely did not have the time for anything that even smacked of being very soft and very cutesy, very demure, LMA- sorry in the remotest way.

And that was the major reason it dumbfounded him, completely and absolutely, to have ended up with you-a person so soft, so sweet, and endlessly, impeccably polite that he often wanted to bash his head against a wall. Almost.

It had been a very long day, and all he wanted right now was to come home, maybe blow off some steam, and just bag all the tension built up. You were there waiting as he walked through the door with that same soft smile that chipped away at his gruff exterior.

"Welcome home, Sanemi," you smiled, your voice like honey. "How was your day?"

He grunted in response, not in the mood to answer that question with anything more than a noncommittal noise, and tossed his sword on the table with a clatter. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, trying to ignore how your mere presence seemed to make the knots in his shoulders loosen just a bit.

You reached for his haori, folding it carefully and setting it aside. "Dinner will be ready soon. Would you like to wash up first?"

You always were so goddamn considerate, always trying to think ahead, trying to make sure everything was just right for him. It was. maddening in a way. How the hell was it so easy to be nice, so completely put off by his roughness?

"No," he snapped, sitting heavily at the table. "Just hurry up with the damn food."

"Of course, my love. I'll bring it right away."

You didn't bat an eye at the sharpness of his tone and moved with that calm grace that always seemed to unsettle him. You readied the food, all the while Sanemi watching you sideways for something-anything-to continue acting that way.

Another command was barked out, this one more biting. "But don't scorch it. I'm not in the mood for your usual bland crap.".

"Yes, dear. I will get it soon-the way you like it," you replied quickly in your always-soft respectful tone. You didn't even pause with the job on hand and that soft smile, until you got it to the table, just about perfectly prepared.

Sanemi frowned, attempting to find fault with it, but of course, there was nothing to be found. The food was great- exactly how he liked it. Still, he would never admit that, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath as he started to eat, hoping you didn't pay attention to the slight softening of his features.

You sat down opposite him, your hands neatly folded in your lap, and watched him eat with that gentle expression that drove him crazy, for reasons he could not quite fathom. It wasn't long before his irritation began to bubble up again, this time more at himself than you.

Why couldn't he just stay angry? Why did you have to be so… so…

"Why do you put up with this?" he finally snapped, his head jerking up from his meal, to meet your calm gaze. "Why don't you ever get pissed off? Why don't you ever talk back or tell me to shut up?"

You turned your head slightly, as if genuinely considering his questions, and then you smiled. A soft, warm smile that made something in his chest twist.

"Because I love you, Sanemi. I know you're just trying to cope with everything in your own way. If being rough with me helps you, then that's okay. I just want to make things easier for you."

Sanemi blinked, taken aback by your response. How could you say that with such sincerity? How could you look at him with so much affection after everything he'd said and done?

He opened his mouth for the argument, to say something sharp and biting back, but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, he felt the anger drain out of him, replaced instead by a confusion he couldn't quite shake.

"Easier for me?" he repeated, all but disbelieving. "How the hell is letting me treat you like crap easier on me?

"Because it gets it out," you said, like it was the most painfully obvious thing in the world. "I know you're not really mad at me. You're just frustrated sometimes, and that's okay. If it means that you need to get a little rough around the edges, then I'm cool with that. I know you don't mean it."

Sanemi stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. You seemed to take the wind out of his sails and left him floating, directionless because he did not know what would or should happen next. He was used to people fighting back, to fights and resistance, and you… well, you didn't push back. You don't fight. You just… accept him. And somehow, that was more disarming than any argument could have been.

He sat there, just staring at you for a moment, his brain racing to catch hold of what feeling was moving around inside him. It was annoying and confusing and-strangely comforting all at once.

He'd wanted to say something, to tell you that you didn't have to put up with his bullshit, you could be angry, you should be angry-but the words just wouldn't come. And that was it.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and rubbed his face in his hands. "You're too damn good for me," he grumbled, smiling more for himself than for you.

It was enough for him to see you smile again. "I'm all right, Sanemi. Do what you need to do-I'm here for you. Anything.

"Damn it," he muttered, the tension in his shoulders melting completely.

He couldn't stay angry, not when you looked at him like that. Not when you made it so damn hard to be mad. He stood up, walking around the table to pull you into a rough but heartfelt embrace. "You're too damn cute for your own good, you know that?

You giggled softly, leaning your head against his chest. "Thank you, Love."

"Don't thank me," he growled, though, by now, there was little true anger left in his tone. He tugged you closer, burying his face in your hair. "You're too courteous. It's annoying."

"I'm sorry," you said, but your voice was light, nearly playful.

His eyes rolled but a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Dammit, woman. Impossible.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list| demon slayer m.list

HONEY A/NOTE :: ill be making multiple parts to this btw !! i find the troupe of grumpy/easily mad x sunshine oblivious reader, so expect more of these!! if any of you have any specific ideas that would be lovely if you could let me know :D

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hi !

I'm not sure if I'm too late for the Thirsty Weekend, but I decided to ask ? I can't decided between prompt number 4 or 8, either one I'd be delighted with your writing, so I'll let you decide? I just wanted it to be with Nanami Kento and a shy Fem!Reader ? It's okay if you also ignore this. I understand.

Thank you.

🐰

Hello bunny anon! It's been a while since I've seen you, hope you're doing all right! I went with 8 for this one.

“All you had to do was ask.” --------

His tongue feels so sinful, the way it tickles your ear, then slides down to the column of your throat, sucking, sampling his way along your body.

Your whole face is burning, shyness consuming you as he continues to worship your body, placing a kiss at your collarbone before he comes to your face and rests his forehead against yours.

"Feeling good?" Kento coos at you, and you nod, eyes squeezing shut at his question. A low rumble of laughter leaves him and he places a quick kiss on your lips.

"You don't have to be so shy darling. This is what couples do." He slips his tongue into your mouth and you moan, feeling the moist muscle probe against yours.

He pulls back and begins to tease your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands, sucking on the perked nipples and pulling them and twisting until you're a mess of desire.

"Kento..." you whine as your hips buck upwards, seeking friction as the stimulation on your nipples causes your clit to throb. Your slit makes contact with his erect cock, flustering you, your skin turning red as you realize how much you wanted him right now.

"Do you need something?" Kento asks as he dips his thumb between your folds. "Something right here?" He probes for a second then grins in satisfaction as you let out a gasp.

A whine escapes your lips as you try to hide your face, but nod at the same time, eliciting a bark of laughter from Kento. “All you had to do was ask.”

He sets up a steady motion, pinching and circling your clit as he inserts a finger into your soaked pussy, fingers curling up to find your bundle of nerves. He strokes and teases you relentlessly, your walls clamping down on him as he pushes you closer to the edge.

Your moans keen as he pleasures you, then with a shuddering gasp, you feel the orgasm hit you, your pussy spasming in gratification as he pushes you through the waves of pleasure.

Send me a prompt!

[otomiyaa]

Loki x Ticklish Reader

Romantic + 13. “That’s… quite an attitude for someone in your position.” Requested by >:3 anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

This little drabble turned into a 1.3K words fic, oops I got carried away. Hope you like it anon!

It was the basic rule and you knew that. You lost the game. Loser gets to do whatever the other asks for the rest of the day. Of course you had only agreed to the condition in order to gain power over your usually evil and sassy lover Loki, God of Misschief, but unfortunately found yourself in the opposite camp. Losers camp.

"Don't worry love. You don't think I would actually ask you things to humiliate you? Just some innocent simple things to tease my sweetheart, that's all. You know what? In order to make it easier to follow my commands, I'll offer you two choices everytime. Do you agree?" Loki reasoned with a smug smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes fondly and fiddled with your playing cards, the ones that had guided you into this losing game. You nodded.

"Alright, sounds fair to me," you answered. You knew Loki wouldn't be too bad to you, considering he was your lover after all. However you liked the idea of having at least some freedom to choose. Loki nodded.

"Good. Then starting with the first set of choices. Either you give me a kiss," he tapped his own lips.

"Or... I tickle you."

Your eyes widened at the mention of the second option, and you coughed in surprise. Tickle?! What... You shook your head and quickly leaned in to kiss his lips.

"E-easy choice," you mumbled with a blush. Loki smirked at you.

"Right?" He pulled you back and kissed you more.

The next few hours, Loki would offer you more choices, but at random. However being the evil God of Misschief, he stuck to an obvious pattern. So very evil.

Bark like a dog, or I tickle you.

Give me a massage, or I tickle you.

Braid my hair, or I tickle you.

They were innocent requests at first, but turned weirder and harder.

Feed me a donut, with your mouth, or I tickle you.

Do a handstand while singing a serenade to me, or I tickle you.

"You know I wouldn't choose the second option by now! Try something else!" you said with a red face, which was about to become even redder now that you started the crazy handstand-serenade thing. And it got even crazier, that little...!

Run into that store and yell "The Hulk is my man!", then buy cookies and leave. Or… I tickle you.

"You really are enjoying yourself aren't you!" you yelled after living through that most humiliating experience ever, and you threw the pack with cookies you bought at his face. His laughter was both maniacal and sweet.

Put these on, or I tickle you.

When Loki offered a pair of handcuffs, you should've known it was a trap. Still, you were very quick to put your hands forward, blushing at the thought of him tickling you, like you did everytime he mentioned the damn word! But the moment the cold metal clicked around your wrists and Loki waved the key between his fingers before putting it into his pocket, you knew you were done for.

"Now, spread your arms and tell me you love me... or, I tickle you," he said, slowly and teasingly, his eyes locking with yours. You swallowed and moved your hands a little, only to confirm these were real handcuffs.

"I c-can't," you said. "I can't spread my arms like this... You have to take these off first."

Loki cocked his head. "That's too bad now. I'm afraid I lost the key, and I really need this confession from you. Spreading your arms is part of the deal. Hm... I guess that leaves only one other option," he said, but you jumped back and shook your head, already giggling in anticipation.

"No no no, hehehe you trickster! That's cheating, it isn't fair!"

"I did not cheat, it is fair, I still gave you two choices," Loki explained calmly, approaching you with slow steps and a sadistic and triumphant look on his face.

"Y-you're being totally unfair, cheater! I'll get you back for this!" Your back touched the wall and you gulped.

Loki only needed a few more steps to completely cage you in. “Really? You'll get me back? That’s… quite an attitude for someone in your position.”

You let out a squeak as soon as he grabbed you, and you started laughing even before you felt the long-awaited and anticipated tickles invading your body.

"Nohoho you're so mehehean!" you laughed when he tickled you with firm and steady touches, his fingers digging into your soft torso and rubbing circles almost as if he was massaging you. But damn it tickled like hell!

"I am the God of Misschief after all~" Loki said proudly, taking your cuffed hands and pushing them up over your head to pin them there, with magic. Your eyes widened when he waved both hands at you, showing you that he didn't need them to keep your arms pinned helplessly.

"You cheheheater wahahah!" you howled again when he tickled both your armpits, ribs and sides without mercy. You danced and bucked against the wall in the most uncharming manner, causing you to blush even more.

"Finally I can tickle you. I wanted to let you know that one way or another, I get what I want," Loki sang proudly. It was funny that he needed to make such a show out of it while he could've tickled you straight away from the get-go, right after winning the card game.

But no, he needed to come up with the 2 choices rule. He needed to make it into this silly game and let you do crazy things like the handstand-serenade and feeding him with your mouth, and the damn Hulk shoutout at the store, oh that was awful!

"You ahahare the wohohorst!" you shrieked, kicking your legs while the magic held your bound arms in place. Loki simply caught your leg and tickled your thigh.

"I am the worst, but you do love me," Loki said teasingly, smiling when your laughter went even pitchier the moment he tickled your thigh.

"Right?" he asked, but you were going insane with hysterical laughter.

"Nohoho! I hahahate you hehehe!" you laughed defiantly.

"Oh we both know that is a lie," he said, and yes it was kind of embarrassing that even in this helpless position, you felt like you needed to show your evil boyfriend some more attitude. But it happened. You were rude, and you paid the price. Loki lifted both your legs, making you wrap them around his waist, and he tickled your inner thighs until you were almost screaming into his face.

This was not only getting way too ticklish and tiring, but also way too embarrassing. You did love Loki after all, and looking the way you did in front of the one you loved, really was too embarrassing.

"AHAHA alrihihight I lohohove you! Hahahaha! Plehehease! Mehehercy!"

"Loki, God of Mercy, at your service," Loki teased like the brat he was. A single snap of his fingers didn't only release your hands from their magical cage, but also released your hands from the cuffs. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck for balance.

With your legs still around his waist, you were pressed between him and the wall, and you'd wipe the smug expression off his face if it weren't for this urgent desire to kiss him.

"I promise you, I will get you back for that evil prank," you said breathlessly. Loki shrugged and smiled.

"Can't wait, darling~" he answered, and finally the two of you kissed. Your own loud and hysterical laughter was still ringing in your ears, but Loki's lips against yours also set off some imaginary fireworks inside your head, which really made up for a lot of things.

But... That didn't mean you would give up any shot at revenge. Which, in the case of plotting against your powerful lover, meant that you simply had to get better at card games, beat his ass next time and claim. your. prize!

[mncxbe]

HEY MY GORGEOUS LOVELY ANNEEE I really love the aki one I requested hnfRgnhrnrhr bark. I want to request another if I'm able to.. Akutagawa with the enemies bathroom party one I forgot which one is it 🩷 take ur time lauv💗🐑💥

here you go sheep and the other lovely anons that requested this one♡

2 — Enemies in the bathroom at a party

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: mirror sex?, degrading, crying, facial, orgasm denial

Akutagawa and you never got along– not when you were part of the Port Mafia and surely not after you left and joined the ADA. In fact, his resentment only built up each time you stumbled across each other during missions, which just so happened tonight.

Both of you were supposed to go undercover at a party to gather information, but basically spent all night at each other's throats, sharing snide words and icy looks. That was until Akutagawa dragged you into the staff's bathroom and locked the door behind you.

"Fucking bitch, look at that slutty expression on your face. Did i really fuck you dumb already?" he spat, his hips snapping against yours with each harsh thrust, the grip he had on your hair tightening. He yanked your head up and you started at your own reflection through half lidded eyes.

Your makeup was ruined– mascara smeared under your eyes, lashes heavy with tears of pleasure. You'd probably hate him now if he weren't fucking you so good.

"Hardly, Ryuu, you're far from it. It's not like that tiny dick of yours could do any good" you mocked but your words didn't seem to have any effect on him. He simply kept drilling himself inside you at a punishing pace, earning high pitches moans and mewls from you.

"Say whatever you want, but your cunt's basically milking me dry. I think you like it."

You hissed at his words, trying so hard to come up with a snarky remark but before you could utter a word, Akutagawa's hand clasped over your mouth, silencing you "Damn slut..." he mumbled under his breath when your teeth grazed his skin.

Despite the harsh words, Akutagawa felt his orgasm building up. Fucking you like this really soothed his soul, it gave him a sick satisfaction. And god, he loved the way your eyes rolled back into your skull, your walls clamping down on him with each of his thrusts.

He knew you were close by the way you moaned into his palm, eagerly pushing your hips against his as if you wanted to take him even deeper– but right before you came he pulled out of you and turned you to face him, pushing you to your knees.

"Why'd you fucking stop now?" you whined, wincing when he pulled your hair again, tilting your head up. "Think I'm gonna make you cum, slut? No way" he scoffed, his voice laced with amusement.

Akutagawa stroked his cock with a hand, his gaze locked on yours and fuck weren't you a pretty sight. He kept you steady as he came on your face, his milky cum dribbling down your cheeks and chin, clinging to your lashes. You groaned, mumbling a fuck you, Ryuu but he simply glared down at you.

By the time you managed to wipe his cum from your face, Akutagawa was out of the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Deep down he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist bending you over the sink again and making you cum on his cock if he were to stay any longer, so he chose to focus on his mission. For now.

𐙚prompts closed

[thebusytypewriter]

hello hello congrats on the followers!! for the event could i request a long kamukura x reader fic where he’s basically baby duck imprinted on reader? i imagine that after being locked in a cell and mistreated by hopes peak even an iota of basic human kindness has him clinging

YIPPEE I've been brainrotting about this one for AGES I'm so sorry for the wait anon!! I'm also sorry that you were probably expecting fluff with this and while there is some, uhhhh........... angstnohappyendOKAYENJOYBYE--

No, I’m not falling for you

So please have mercy on me

The night of the Tragedy—the first one—you were there. That was something Izuru Kamukura didn’t expect.

You weren’t exactly there, not in the classroom where it all went down; things would’ve been much different if you were. No, you were some Reserve Course student who’d found their way just outside of the Main Course gates past curfew.

In fact, it was well past that point, nearly midnight by then. Enoshima had yet to return from her place in the security office, Ikusaba likely with her. This left Kamukura alone outside to ponder what had just transpired.

The gruesome deaths of the thirteen Ultimate students replayed over and over within his perfect memory, everything from gunshot to impaling to chainsaw. He’d expected each and every one of them to turn away from Enoshima’s “motives,” since innocent lives logically outweighed petty hearsay, no matter how damaging it would be.

Such intense emotion on their faces when first attacks were made… He couldn’t understand it.

Wind whistled past his stony face as he strolled, the force tossing around his hair in every direction. Even if he had the capacity to care about it, he wouldn’t. There were far more pressing things to worry about.

The sound of rubber soles on stone alerted him to an approaching individual, so Kamukura swiftly moved behind one of the few trees lining the outer wall and watched.

You were far out of dress code for a Reserve Course student, but he figured that you didn’t care with it being after hours. A large hoodie covered you, engulfing your upper half in the softest fabric he’d ever seen, and your yoga pants were just as large and cozy-looking. The only thing that indicated you as part of the Reserve Course was the student ID faintly peeking out from under your collar.

He could see the bags under your eyes from his place a dozen feet away, and the slouch in your walk alerted his health-related talents of your likely insomnia.

“Hello?” you called out, almost timidly, not too soft to go unheard but not too loud to alert any remaining security. “I was just out for a walk when I, um, heard you. I know it’s late, I just want to make sure you’re okay. It’s not a good idea to leave Main Course grounds after dark, okay?”

Kamukura faintly wondered if you’d ever had a chance of being an Ultimate regarding empathy or safety. It would suit you.

“I go here,” you continued, “so don’t worry, I just want to help.”

His nail lightly scratched at the tree’s bark in contemplation. Two abnormal events in the same night… Perhaps he couldn’t let that go.

Letting his definitive steps announce his presence, Kamukura stepped out and into the dull light of the street lamps. He said nothing and simply blinked at you.

You inhaled sharply, clearly startled as you caught sight of him. There was only a brief moment of panic in your eyes before it switched over to concern, your gaze locking on something just below his own, slightly to his right. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Ah. In the excitement of your arrival, he’d forgotten about the bullet graze wound across his cheek. He raised a hand and felt around the area, unsurprised to find it mostly still wet with blood. “And why would you be concerned about me? You’ll get nothing in return.”

“Nothing in…?” Your brow pinched further, now from both concern and confusion. “Dude, you’re bleeding. Like a lot. Like you might need stitches.”

“No. I’ll apply some disinfectant shortly, and it’ll heal just fine. You should be more concerned with your own safety, being out this late at night, instead of fussing over a stranger.”

“I-I’m not fussing,” you argued, cheeks now puffing out in your annoyance.

You reminded him of a chipmunk.

Cute.

Something in him halted at the thought before reassuring himself that it was simply fact. There were no opinions within him. You were being kind to him, that was all. It was… unfamiliar.

Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

“Oh!” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. “How rude of me. I didn’t even introduce myself.” With a statement of your name—something he already knew from observing your student ID—you extended a hand while asking for his own.

In a handful of milliseconds, he considered what to tell you. He could tell you nothing and walk away, leaving you out of the insanity but leaving this odd new itch behind. He could tell you Kamukura, but there were far too many things attached to that name on Hope’s Peak campus. You were Reserve Course, not stupid. 

“Call me Izuru,” he stated. “For your safety, I’ll leave it at that.”

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “Ah… okay? Nice to meet you then, Izuru.”

“You as well.”

“Aaaand your reason for being out here…?”

“Nightly walk.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but you didn’t need to know that. “I was in the process of returning to my quarters when you appeared. I am in no danger, I assure you.”

You nodded, hesitant but understanding. “Gotcha. Well… just be careful, okay? There are some real weirdos out here at night.”

The irony of your statement almost made him laugh. Almost. “I understand, thank you. Would you like an escort back to the Reserve Course dormitory?”

“Oh, uh, no thanks. Pepper spray’s got my back.”

“If you insist. Good night, then.” Kamukura gave the slightest of bows before turning to reenter the Main Course grounds and rendezvous with Enoshima. Your return of the phrase met his ears, but he continued on.

He tried not to feel your gaze boring into his back as he did so.

He tried not to look back when he heard your footsteps retreat.

Izuru Kamukura failed for the first and second time that night.

‘Cause it’s not romantic, I swear

I’m not gasping for air

After moving from one underground bunker to another, Kamukura quickly found himself to be once again bored out of his mind. The only thing that kept his attention, that lingered in his mind, was you.

He’d never seen your face among the rioters from newsfeed alone, leading him to the conclusion that you were abstaining from it all. You were safe, presumably. Given how kind you were to him when you met, he decided that you deserved it—the safety from Despair. Someone like you needed to be protected.

And yet, he still thought about what it would be like for you to stay in that bunker with him. Kamukura wasn’t alone there, of course not; among its occupants was Enoshima, Ikusaba, Mitarai, and the nurse that was dragged in—Tsumiki. Of these, Enoshima was the only one who engaged in conversation with him, as one-sided as it was, and as annoying as she was.

Despite himself, despite his programming, Kamukura missed you.

He knew that Enoshima had noticed his change of demeanor after that night. He knew that she’d look into what happened, badgering him until she inevitably gave up.

What he didn’t know was how invested she’d be in the situation.

In the midst of his purusing old documents within the bunker, he was met with the sound of Enoshima’s delighted hum growing closer… then farther. It was odd. There weren’t many rooms in the bunker, and there were even fewer rooms that Junko Enoshima herself would enter. If they were dirty, she sent Ikusaba in. If they were hazardous, she sent Tsumiki in.

So where was she going?

Damn it, his interest was piqued.

Cautiously and quietly, Kamukura followed the Ultimate Despair down a corridor he’d never seen her traverse before. She hummed the whole way, a slight bounce in her step, before stopping at a closed iron door. It had a small square window at head level, but that seemed to be the only way one could see in or out of the room. Enoshima slid the massive bar lock out of place and pushed her way inside, letting the door close behind her.

He stalked up to the solid barrier and peered through the window, careful not to let more of himself show than what was unavoidable. As Kamukura’s gaze settled on the pigtailed frame he’d watched enter, her voice met his ears.

“Just checkin’ on ya, sweetheart! Can’t have you dying on me just yet, right? You just got here!”

Then, a second voice followed hers, one that made his blood run cold.

“I-I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you stammered, teeth audibly clacking together in the cold concrete room. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why you brought me here, I haven’t done anything wrong—”

“Of course not, silly!” Enoshima strode forward in faux contemplation, manicured hands clasped behind her back. “Consider this a… witness care program. We take care of our witnesses!”

With the Despair’s movement, Kamukura was able to get a full view of you. You were still in your pajamas, just a tank top and fuzzy pants, implying that you’d been abducted either in your room or within the dorm in general. Your feet were bare and pale—borderline blue—against the gray floor. (He understood then why you were shivering.) From that angle, he was able to notice your hands wrenched behind your back as you sat by a pole, and he deduced that Enoshima—or maybe Ikusaba—had tied you to said pole to restrict movement. How cliche.

“Witness care?” You blinked, fluorescent light sparkling in your eyes. “So you’re protecting me then?”

“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of hope?” Enoshima reached out and pitched your cheek with enthusiasm. “Cutie pie! I could just eat you up!” Her grin dropped abruptly, and Kamukura saw a few little beads of blood spring up on your skin where she held you. “…And then I would immediately vomit. Your gross little rainbows and sparkles make me sick, y’hear me? What the hell does a god like Kamukura see in a worthless Reserve Course chump?”

Your brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, who’s… Kamukura? Like, the founder of Hope’s Peak?”

“No, silly,” she snorted. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. The one you met a few days ago. What exactly did he say his name was?”

He watched your mouth open to answer, then slowly close as you appeared to connect the dots she’d presented. Your response came out quiet and disbelieving. “…Izuru.”

Enoshima’s free hand flew up in mocking celebration. “Give the kid a prize! This might come as a shock to you—who am I kidding, it so will—but the Izuru Kamukura you talked to is a lab experiment gone horrifically right. He’s a god among men, the Ultimate Hope. And that makes it all the more confusing as to why he’s chosen to latch onto you of all people. Kinda silly if you ask me.”

Much to his odd delight, all traces of fear left your face at the statement, and you snarled at her. “Well if you admire him so much, then why does it sound to me like you’re doubting his judgment? I’ll be sure to let him know when I see him next. Whose word will he believe—mine or yours?”

Enoshima’s hand ripped away as she recoiled. “Ugh! God, you’d get along really well with the know-it-all detective in my class. Keep holding your head up like that, and you’re ten times more likely to get smacked by a bat. It’s just statistics!”

The twitch of your brow betrayed your returning terror.

“Anyway,” she drew out, “I wouldn’t get comfy, m’kay? Even though you’re here as a present for my beloved Kamukura, I still have an agenda. Maybe look up the phrase ‘take care of’ in the dictionary! Oh, wait, you can’t do that here. Hm! Your problem, not mine.”

Kamukura ducked out of the window just as Enoshima turned, forgoing the remainder of the conversation to preserve his assumed innocence. In his brisk return down the hallway, he felt an odd tingling sensation rising from the midst of his throat all the way to his skull. It reminded him of an ant colony, one that disturbed the neutrality within him.

He then noticed how tense his brow had been the entire time. How clenched his fists were. How much he itched to burst through the door and rescue your kind self from Despair incarnate.

Some Ultimate Psychologist within him ticked off some boxes and raised a finger to share the new discovery, but he ignored it.

He had to.

The Ultimate Hope did not get attached.

I want you to be here, but please don’t come near

‘Cause even though I’m pretty sure my head’s exploding

I’m not ready for hand holding

Kamukura was attached.

Within the couple of weeks between his discovery of your presence—when he was sure that Enoshima and Ikusaba weren’t in the bunker, and Mitarai and Tsumiki were stationed in the former’s workspace—he often found himself visiting you.

The first time he made an appearance and explained what he could, he’d been expecting your immediate response.

“So you’ll let me go?”

He shook his head. “As much as I am of the mind that you should be given your freedom, there is a strong chance Enoshima may just hunt you down again and kill you. A far from ideal outcome, wouldn’t you agree?”

You did, and he was relieved.

…What?

Ah, yes. That was the recurring problem around you; Kamukura found himself feeling things. At first, he was convinced that he could become desensitized by visiting you more. It only made things worse. He got to know you then, all your hobbies and quirks and everything that made you unique in his eyes.

Not to mention your kindness. God, all the harsh interactions with immoral scientist after immoral scientist made him realize how truly important you were.

You invaded all of his waking thoughts, and Kamukura expected that he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He was created to have perfect judgment.

It’s not love, I swear

“Oh, Kamukura darling! I have a surprise for you!”

He let himself sigh as he turned from his absentminded file browsing to meet Enoshima’s wide grin. “I have no interest in your presents.” Not to mention he already knew to whom she was referring.

The grin flipped on a dime to a childish pout. “You don’t have to be so mean about it! And here I thought you’d actually like this one.”

“If you’re going to pester me about this surprise regardless, then I suppose I have little choice. Get on with it.”

Enoshima immediately perked up again, much like a dog whose master said the word ‘treat’ aloud. (What a hellish dog the Ultimate Despair would make, Kamukura thought to himself. He’d have to tell you that one later.) “Okie dokie! You’re gonna love it.”

“Doubtful. I am incapable of love.”

Incapability, the Ultimate Dictionary part of him said, is another word for inability, which is the lack of ability to do something. Denial is an unwillingness to accept that something is true.

He stubbornly shoved the thought away and followed behind the bouncing girl.

Love clouds even the most objectively perfect judgment.

They continued on to a section of the bunker that Kamukura was slightly less familiar with, as it was usually occupied by the other inhabitants, and he wasn’t one to socialize with them. (He wasn’t one to socialize with Enoshima, either, but she forced it upon him.) At some time, he’d heard the sounds of panic and stress echoing from that same direction, but it was her business, not his. It appeared that it was about to be his business, though.

Enoshima led him into an offshoot of the main hallway, her deranged humming increasing as they moved. It was never a good sign when she was so pleased.

The distorted music he’d listened to her perfect met his ears, laced with the edited screams of Ultimate students. Why was she playing the Despair-inducing video? Was there a “guest” he wasn’t aware of?

…Wait.

There would be.

If he wasn’t already aware of them.

“You’ve been so pressed over the battle of Hope and Despair, and I wanted to help you along—” Enoshima pushed a door open, and the sounds became clearer— “so you get to see Despair in action!”

A dim concrete room greeted the two of them, bathed only in the flashing lights and red glow of her video. In the center, a single chair sat askew with what appeared to be leather straps dangling from its arms and legs. The quick inspection with his Ultimate Analyst talent revealed a lack of tears in the leather outside of the usual signs of torture—fraying and scuffing. The occupant didn’t escape their containment, but they were released.

Speaking of, Kamukura’s gaze fell upon a figure settled on the floor, head pressed against their knees. It was reminiscent of a traditional Japanese deep bow—zarei, that is—but they were tense, shaking. Their hands dug into their hair and pulled against their scalp in this panicked manner, and that wasn’t even the part that set him off.

This figure, the victim of Junko Enoshima’s Despair-inducing video, was you.

“Turn it off.”

“Eh?”

His fist closed around Enoshima’s throat and tugged her close in an instant, dragging a garbled noise of surprise from her. “Turn the video off, or I will do it myself.”

Her eyes were wide at this new display, one he himself was quite unsure about, and she burst out in startled laughter. “Woooow! Okay, Mr. Assertive! It’s done the job anyway. This was mostly just for theatrics and funsies, to give a little pizzazz to your present—Hey, are you even listening?”

Kamukura was not. Oh, how he thought about bashing in her head at that moment. It would be quick and effortless on his part, ultimately ridding the world of her sick plan. But Enoshima wasn’t his priority; he was already crossing the floor toward your crumpled form, an uncharacteristically-loud heartbeat pounding in his ears. Odds of your being unharmed were slim, to say the least, and only dropping every second you didn’t move, but he called upon his Ultimate Luck to combat them.

Pristine black dress pants rubbed against the concrete as he settled on his knees next to you. Kamukura’s hand hovered over your back while he debated on the best course of action. What would he do if you were lost? Could he bring himself to hand you over to Enoshima, or would he go directly against her to repair a broken mind? Was it even possible for him to do such a thing?

Might still be in shock, he reminded himself. It was entirely possible that Enoshima had been bluffing. You were fine.

You had to be.

He let his hand run over your spine once. Twice. You remained, head pressed to your knees, though you shuddered at the touch.

Just ahead, the Despair-inducing video clicked off. Finally. He shot a glare at Enoshima and, by virtue of her sudden appearance, Ikusaba. Additionally, Tsumiki appeared to be peeking in from the doorway, and her twisted smile did nothing to calm his anxieties.

…Anxieties? The Ultimate Psychologist in his head once again raised a finger to say I told you so, but he ignored it.

Kamukura called for you, quietly at first. When he received no answer, he tried again, louder.

Something finally spilled from your lips, unintelligible and hushed. He wondered for a moment if what he felt at the sound was hope, but it quickly snapped away as your garbled noises continued and then transitioned into an objectively worse sound.

You were laughing.

No, you were crying.

It was both. You were hysterical.

Finally, finally, you sat up, and the “no signal” screen previously playing that maddening video kept your face under an eerie red light. The color illuminated the teartracks down your cheeks, and his heart clenched. Your gaze met his, and it sank.

Those kind eyes, the ones that made him feel warm, feel anything… were hazy and unfocused. The smile that set off the butterflies in his stomach, however few they were, twisted with insanity.

Tainted.

She’d broken you.

You. The one good thing in this spiraling world.

Kamukura cupped your cheek as you giggled something about his expression. He didn’t care to listen. He ran through the possible ways of repairing your mind and found that the list was both shorter and less possible than he’d initially thought. Human beings are fragile creatures, he reminded himself. You can’t hold one too tightly, or else it’ll hurt more when they break.

Perhaps this wasn’t what Enoshima had meant by seeing her work in action, but it got the point across.

His tears fell alongside yours.

It might be closer to Despair . . .

[mrsmikaelsxn]

ABBA Marathon

masterlist

pairing: father sirius black x daughter reader

warnings: like one curse word, tooth rotting fluff, sirius being an icon, literally just a very fun read that i hope has you smiling in your bed

summary: you meet sirius, play chess with sirius, and have an abba singing and dance party with sirius (sirius meeting his daughter post azkaban - requested by anon)

a/n: im so obsessed with this idk i wish sirius was my dad, also sorry this has been in my inbox for so long

song: waterloo - abba

Being Sirius Black's daughter was quite tiring. But also thrilling. Especially since it was your third year when he escaped Azkaban.

Your best friends are Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You couldn't have asked for better ones.

With the rumors of Sirius coming after you and Harry, people had been cold towards you because of your father, not that you could control who your father was.

Right now you were outside, taking a walk in some fresh air. Suddenly a dog comes up to you and barks once. "Why, hello there," you coo and bend down. The dog happily wags his tail and jumps onto her. "Aww, you're so cute!" 

You pet the dog, who leans into your hand. "You are very skinny," you frowned. "Follow me, I'm sure Hagrid has some food I can give you." 

As you two head down, you get near the Whomping Willow. As you pass by, the dog suddenly spins and before you could blink the dog was biting your pants, tugging you to the tree. 

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Dog, but these are new pants." You then get very close to the tree, "Er- I don't think this is a good idea," you say nervously as the branches of the tree start to move. 

The dog looks up in alert and quickly tugs you into some type of hole that they slid down into. "Ah!" The dog jumps up and pulls on your pants again. "Where are we going?"

Finally, you come into an empty abandoned room. "What is this place..."

You walk over and pick up a dusted book, blowing on the cover before putting it back down. You turn around and her eyes go wider than they've ever been. "AHH!" you scream.

"AHH!" 

"AHH!"

"SHH!"  

You cover your mouth and stare at the one and only Sirius Black.

Your father.

"What the fuck," you whisper to yourself. "Oh my Merlin, I'm too young to die! I- I haven't gotten to slap Malfoy yet, I haven't been able to prank Snape! I ha-"

"Prank Snape?" Sirius pipes up. 

"I'm going to die. Oh, Godric," you pace while frantically whispering to yourself. "I'm in the same room with Sirius Black, alone."

He frowns at being called by his name instead of Dad, which it should be.

"Relax, love, I'm not going to kill you."

You spin and face the man, "You're not?"

"No."

"Then why am I here? For giggles and a tea party?"

"One, you're about to find out. Two, I don't like tea," Sirius makes a face. 

"Huh, me neither. Now, go on, tell me why I'm in an abandoned room with an escaped convicted murderer," you cross your arms. 

"I'm not a murderer. I'm innocent, I swear."

You narrow her eyes, "How so?"

"Well, it started when I first got to Hogwarts..."

You wipe the tears from under your eyes, "That is the saddest thing I have ever heard."

Sirius waves his hand, "Now that you know what happened, you believe me right?"

"Of course!" You throw her arms around the man, who relaxes into his daughters hold. It's been a long time since he has had human contact.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you can't tell anyone about me just yet."

"Why?! If I tell them you're inno-"

He smiles sadly, "I'm not so sure they would believe you."

"But-" Sirius shakes his head. You sigh, "Well, are you going to be staying here?"

He nods, "I guess. It's a bit dirty though, if you ask me."

"I can fix that," you grin. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. You takes out your wand and flick it. The room starts moving and the dust all collects together before flying out the window. The furniture vanishes and new ones appear. Pictures form on the wall and the room cleans up into a brand new, clean room.

"Wow, impressive. Thank you," Sirius says. You nod and flick your wrist again. In the blink of an eye, Sirius is freshly cleaned and looks well taken care of. His eyes almost water at your kindness. "I truly can't thank you enough."

"That's better, isn't it?" You smile proudly at your work. "Oh! You need food," you think for a moment, "I'll just bring you down daily meals."

"I can't ask you to do that, it's too much."

"It's a good thing you don't have to ask. You mentioned your friend... Remus Lupin." Sirius nods and gestures for you to continue, "He's a Professor this year... anyway, is he a..."

"A...?"

"Werewolf," you say hesitantly. 

Sirius' face goes a bit pale, "What makes you think that?"

"His boggart was a moon, and he has lots of light scars."

"Would it change your opinions about him?"

"Not at all! If anything I think it makes him even better." Sirius nods his head. "Yes... he's a werewolf?" 

He nods again, "You're a bright witch."

"Thank you," you beam. You looks at your watch, "I have about twenty minutes before my friends start looking for me. In the meantime.... Wizard's Chess?"

"Yes! Checkmate!" You jump up from your seat in excitement. "I won!"

"That's not fair! You only won because I'm rusty," Sirius crosses his arms and sinks into the couch. 

"Sure, sure. Rematch tomorrow?" you ask. 

"Rematch tomorrow," you two shake hands and you go to the exit. 

"I'll bring you some food in a little while."

"Bye, darling," he waves, watching you leave. 

A few weeks later, you were on your daily trip to see Sirius. You snuck in through the Whomping Willow, you also learned how to avoid the branches. 

"Hello?!" you shout. 

"Over here!"

You follow his voice and see him digging through a closet. "What are you looking for?"

"I- that's... a good question." He stands up and clears his throat, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It has come to my attention that you recently made an appearance in the castle."

"Mhm."

"And you didn't inform me about it beforehand," you gives him a blank stare.

"I wanted to, but it took a while to plan and I wanted it to be a surprise," he grins with jazz hands.

"You do realize that I could have helped you in, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk you getting in trouble," he frowns. 

"I appreciate your concern," you salute him and he does it back with a chuckle.

"What's in the bag?" He nods to the one hanging on your arm. 

"This, my furry father-"

"That was a horrible joke."

"-Is a record player!" You excitedly pull it out of the bag and place it on a table. 

"A what?"

"A record player. It plays music. Want to see?!"

"As if I would say no to music."

You reach into the bag and take out some vinyl records. "I picked ones that I think you would enjoy best. There is a supergroup that I thought you would really like. They're called ABBA. They're one of my favorites." 

You set up the record player and place one of the vinyls in. You grin at the man as you hit the play button.

"YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE! HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE! SEE THAT GIRL, WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"

You and Sirius continue to shout the lyrics into your fake microphones as you hop around the room with the song blasting. When the room was first set up by you, you placed several privacy and silencing spells, so you two didn't have to worry about anyone hearing anything.

"YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN-"

"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME CHASE THE SHADOWS AWAY?" you sing while bouncing on the couch. 

"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! TAKE ME THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE BREAK OF THE DAY!" Sirius continues as he walks and dances as if he were on a stage. 

"MAMMA MIA, HERE I GO AGAIN! MY, MY, HOW CAN I RESIST YOU?"

"MAMMA MIA, DOES IT SHOW AGAIN! MY, MY, JUST HOW MUCH I'VE MISSED YOU?" 

Sirius and you hold hands as you jump together and flip your hair with matching goofy grins. 

"YES, I'VE BEEN BROKENHEARTED! BLUE SINCE THE DAY WE PARTED!"

"WHY, WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"

"BUT NOW IT ISN'T TRUE! NOW EVERYTHING IS NEW!" you grab your wand to create two pairs of light up sunglasses, you toss one to Sirius and you both put them on.

"AND ALL I'VE LEARNED HAS OVERTURNED! I BEG OF YOUUU!" Sirius sings. 

"DON'T GO WASTING YOUR EMOTION! LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON MEEEE!" you shout together. 

With a flick of your wrist, you - much to Sirius' surprise - somehow managed to have a disco ball with neon lights come from the ceiling. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit in the Gryffindor common room. 

"I wonder what she's doing right now," Harry looks thoughtfully.

"She's been leaving a lot recently," comments Hermione, biting nervously on her nail.

"I hope she's okay," says Ron, "Sirius Black could be out there."

"LAST NIGHT I WAS TAKING A WALK ALONG THE RIVER, AND I SAW HIM TOGETHER WITH A YOUNG GIRL!"

"AND THE LOOK THAT HE GAVE HER MADE ME SHIVER! 'CAUSE HE ALWAYS USE TO LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!" Sirius grabs your hand and twirls you, causing you to laugh. 

"AND I THOUGHT, MAYBE I SHOULD WALK RIGHT UP TO HER AND SAY 'AH-HA-HA, IT'S A GAME HE LIKES TO PLAYYY!" you and Sirius shimmy dance to each other. 

You jump and freeze before breaking out in another dance and sing the chorus. "LOOK INTO HIS ANGELEYES, ONE LOOK AND YOU'RE HYPNOTISED! HE'LL TAKE YOUR HEART AND YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE!"

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE!"

"THE FEELING IN IT, SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"DO I REALLY SEE WHAT'S IN HER MIND, EACH TIME I'M CLOSE TO KNOWING, SHE KEEPS ON GROWING!"

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"SOMETIMES I WISH THAT I COULD FREEZE THE PICTURE!"

"AND SAVE IT FROM THE FUNNY TRICKS OF TIME!"

Sirius and you wrap an arm around each other's waist as they sway to the music. 

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERSSSSS!"

Sirius then starts pretending like he's playing the guitar to the music making your giggle. 

You and Sirius fall back, panting, onto the couch. Sirius turns to you and gives you a high five. 

"Oh my Merlin! That was the most fun I had in forever!"

"Me too, kid. Thank you. I don't know the last time I felt like that."

"You're welcome," you bumps his shoulder. "Oh! And you can keep everything, I have my own."

"Really?"

"Mhm, I'll bring you more vinyls I have. We can have more singing and dancing parties like this."

"I'm looking forward to it." He looks at a watch you got him, "I think it may be time for you to head back."

You look in a mirror on the wall, "My hair is messy from flipping it."

"I can help you with it, if you want," he smiles at you. 

"Really?" He nods. "Thanks!"

Sirius gets up and grabs a brush, you turn on the couch so he is behind you as he brushes through your hair. "I'm going to try to do that braid you taught me."

"Here's a hair tie," you take one off your wrist. 

He struggles at first but manages to do a good, tight braid. "Done!" Sirius claps his hands. 

You look in the mirror, "Wow, you have a good teacher."

He shrugs, "Meh, she's alright." You slap the back of his head, "Okay, okay! Not the hair! Okay, I have the best teacher." 

You nod happily and grab your bag, "Bye, Dad."

"See you soon, y/n," he winks.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Riddle me this, Rollo. How mad would you be if I accidentally set the shared kitchen on fire with a ramen packet? ..I may have forgot i was cooking and left it on the stove. ..for a half hour." ~ (based off a real experience of mine <3 ((i should never be trusted with a stove again))

UHHHHH... Concern????? ???? ??? ? ? ????😅 I'm glad you're safe after that incident though, Anon! Malewife Rollo cooking and cleaning for us, that's the dream/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

Concern immediately registered on his face. His eyebrows drew together, creasing the space between them. His lips twisted into a disapproving frown before ripping open and letting loose a harsh bark.

"You fool!"

Rollo darted past you and into your kitchen, making a beeline for the stove. As you had confessed, a small yet sizable fire had consumed the far most wall, setting ragged curtains and rickety wood ablaze. Stray embers and heat fanned him as he approached, undaunted by the flames.

“R-Rollo-senpai?!” you called from the doorframe. “What are you doing? Get away from there, you’ll hurt yourself…!”

He glared at you from over his shoulder. “Who is to correct your grievous error, if not I?"

Rollo closed a hand around his wrist—a pained expression rising up. The fire was too large to be stamped out through regular means. If he didn't act fast, the flames would consume the entire building and all life within it.

The only option he had to salvage this situation was…

What I wasn’t able to do all those years back.

Rollo swallowed thickly and raised a hand. His command came loud and stern. "Begone from my sight."

The jewel set in his ring let loose a flash of cooling light. A great pillar of water crashed down upon the raging fire, strong splashback sending you hurtling back a few steps. Roaring filled your ears and dissipated just as quickly--and when you blinked again, the magical water was gone, leaving behind a broken scene ravaged by black.

The fire, extinguished.

Whoa... That's raw power right there. Sometimes you forgot just how devastating of a mage Rollo was--and the reminder of that made you shudder.

Rollo sighed and casually dusted off his shoulder, banishing an invisible fleck of ash from himself. "Let's see what the damage is."

He brisky made his way over to the stove with you trailing behind nervously. Using his handkerchief, Rollo removed the lid from the pot sitting on a burner. Lying inside was a dry lump of noodles, charred beyond belief.

Rollo replaced the lid. His facial features twitched imperceptibly as he turned his attention to you, tone icy. "How irresponsible must you be to leave food on the stove unattended to?! Fire is not an element to be trifled with!!"

His mouth pursed into a line. "It's a miracle that you haven't burned down this hovel by now."

"Eheheh... Oops?"

He found no humor in the giggle and the light-hearted shrug that accompanied it. Folding his arms, he tapped one finger. "... What do you intend to do now?"

"There's always the cafeteria," you said sheepishly.

“Its offerings are surely more healthy than whatever it was you were about to ingest. Instant ramen has enough sodium in it to kill a baby goat,” Rollo sniffed. “What of this mess you've made of your living quarters?" He gestured to their destroyed surroundings.

"You could just put it back together with magic, right? I saw that amazing spell you pulled off just now. It should be no problem for you!”

He sent you a withering look. "And reward your reckless behavior?! I've already expended enough of my time and energy on you—against my better judgment. Magic is not something to wield so flippantly!!”

“Boo, you’re no fun!”

“There is nothing ‘fun’ about this!!” Rollo retorted. Again, he had his handkerchief at his mouth, masking his open disgust. “It is about time that you assume responsibility for your own actions.”

He casted one last glare at the ashen wasteland around him. A kitchen forever scarred, the damage scorching deep.

This destruction, fun? Claimed by hellish flames, fun?

His chest throbbed.

Rollo clamped his handkerchief down even harder, crumpling the moon and the stars upon it. His breathes quickened, yet his next words were forced into an eerie calm.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see myself out. Enjoy your… meal.”

[valiantroeagleangel]

Lover boy.

Will Ramos x female reader.

A fluffy drabble with a clingy Will.

Tag list: @circle-with-me @malice-ov-mercy @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @witchyweeb34 (oh and since it seems that I have a problem with the tag list, could you tell me guys if it's working for you please 🥲)

From the following request from one adorable anon.

"Anyways, Will has this super adorable needy puppy energy that has me melting, and no one can convince me otherwise. So I was thinking: post tour Will, being eXtrA needy, needing cuddles and being touched 24/7, demands kisses and hugs all the time…you can make it just fluffy sweet or you can add smut too, whatever your beautiful heart and mind desires."

Decided to keep this one fluffy because it cannot hurt, let's just soothe our hearts.

I'm sorry it is quite short but just felt like writing some fluffy drabble even if I am emotionally constipated as a person. And don't have much time for myself lately so I just try to write every time I can, which is not often. I hope you'll like it nonetheless.

Don't worry you'll have some needy Will smut on the next one. 🫡

Love you.

Three months was a long time. You did not expect it to feel that unpleasant but now that you were standing in front of the arrival terminal at the airport even the seconds that passed seemed unbearable. Everything slowed down, you kept checking your phone hoping for a sign of life from Will but nothing came. The screen on the wall was displaying all the landings and his plane was discharged. He could be here at any moment but the more people passed in front of you the more your heart raced at the absence of signs from his little curly-haired head.

Anxious, you started to roam into the small room to calm your nerves down. You did not hear about any kind of accident, he was surely fine, maybe stuck at customs. Yeah, he was probably fine but your mind could not calm down until you saw a short figure burst into your direction, Will rushing to you the second he noticed you.

Not expecting him after all this wait you awkwardly opened your arms, Will settling himself between them as he hugged you tightly, lifting you in a quick motion.

-God, I missed you. He squeezed you even harder, his head losing itself in the crook of your neck.

You hugged him back, taking time to appreciate his scent that you missed so much, murmuring a quick "Me too" as you let go in his embrace.

Eventually, after some point, you tried to let go of him, the rest of the band just behind him. Still, he did not separate himself from you, his arms still strongly surrounding your waist as he hugged you from behind, swinging you from left to right, his head resting on your shoulder.

-Will, you'll have to let go of me if you want to go home one day.

You joked, half-joked actually, and you heard Austin make fun of you in the back.

-Yeah, do you guys plan to make out in the middle of the hall or can we go?

Will groaned when you started to shift in his arms, unhappily freeing you so he could go grab his bag and follow your steps.

Still, he followed you closely everywhere, his hand on your lower back as you all tried to somehow carry the bags to the car. The rest of the guys were a few steps ahead, letting you have some intimacy as they knew that Will could just bark at them for cock blocking him. Well, they weren't cock blocking anything since you guys were definitely not going to have sex now but in Will's head it was in a way.

His lips tried to kiss your temple while you walked through the airport, which was incredibly difficult but it did not make him back up. He was maybe short but he had a strong will, desperately looking for some contact with you.

You proposed to drive the guys home but they all declined, telling you that they could deal with that themselves. Giving some kind of pressing look to Will as they silently told you that he wouldn’t let it go.

So eventually each one of them got back to their house mysteriously.

Will seemed to have calmed down a bit in the car, his hand rested on your knee as you drove his tired figure back home.

But once you got to the front door of your house Will immediately attached himself back to you, lifting you off your feet as he slammed the door open, immediately throwing you on the couch with him, his head dipping again in your neck.

You sighed gently, brushing your fingers through his tangled hair. Will humming against your skin.

-Alright lover boy, are you going to let me breathe or not?

-Fuck no, I'll suffocate you.

You chuckled and he hugged you harder, his lips looking for your urgently.

The rest of the evening went the same way. Will's weight was heavy on you as his head rested on your stomach, both of you lying down. You, focusing on one of your books and Will, focusing mindlessly on his phone. He kept glaring at you every other minute, hoping for a move from you but you only continued to read, enjoying the peaceful evening as his body was heating yours. It was much better than all these lonely and cold nights you spent lately.

Getting impatient, Will moved his head to fully look at your face, his pointy chin stabbing your stomach.

-Looooove. He called dramatically to finally earn a look from you.

You smiled at him, one of your hands leaving your book to stroke his hair again, knowing how much he liked it.

-Yes? Your voice was as soft as the look you were giving him, waiting for him to continue his speech.

-Come on is the book really that great? You've been on it for hours!

You looked back to the paper between your hands, considering his sentence for a few seconds.

-Yes. Just to tease him a little you ignored his presence again, your eyes focusing on the pages in front of you as your hand abandoned his hair.

You heard him groan and it made you hide your chuckle. He was really so easy to get.

So just for a bit, you continued to read, totally ignoring Will's protests on your stomach. Well, at least you tried. But with the time he got slightly more pressing. The hands he had under your body came to grab your waist, passing through your shirt as he lifted it a little, his lips peppering kisses on your belly's skin.

Pulling you under him he finally made you look away from your book, receiving an arched brow as you were now at the same height, his face just above yours.

-Come on what is this? He pushed your book down, looking at the title. This sucks, why are you reading it?

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to conceal another smile.

-It does not suck. It's a great book, you should read some sometimes you know.

-Yeah right, I'm sure you'll be pleased when I'll ignore you for some kind of... He paused, frowning at the cover. What is it? Faerie porn again?

This time you couldn't refrain your laughter at his visibly confused and upset expression.

-It is not porn! You tried to defend yourself but it was too late, Will had made up his mind.

-It better not be because I'll be really offended. He pouted his face leaning to yours in hope for a kiss.

You only pecked at his lips, deciding that you had not played with him enough for tonight. You had missed this so much that you could treat yourself a little.

-Let me finish this chapter, alright?

He groaned at you again but settled down for a bit, his head now resting on your chest, making you raise your arms to be able to read something.

But when you thought he had given up he started to call you every few minutes. "Have you finished?", "And now?", "Still not done?", "Come on the chapter is a hundred pages or what?".

You sighed, gently hitting the top of his head with the hardcover.

-It would be faster if you just shut up.

His eyes widened and he stood up, surprising you.

-Fuck it. You're not reading this anymore.

Ripping the book from your hands he threw it on the floor in the second, making it hit the ground in a loud muffled sound.

-Nooo my page!

-Don't care, you should have been faster.

At these words he threw himself back on you, his hands finding your waist again. Lowering your gaze you stared at him while he leaned on, kissing you gently.

-You had three months to read, now the book can go to hell. I don't care.

He continued his motions, his lips lowering themselves to kiss your jaw and then your neck. Quickly your hands found their way back to his hair, as usual.

-It had kittens you know. You tilted your head back, letting him have more access to your skin.

-I don't care. He grunted in the crook of the neck and you tugged his hair.

You smiled, tucking your lower lips between your teeth.

-Who are you and what have you done to my man?

You felt him smirk as he sucked softly on your skin.

-I love you more than I love cats you know.

-Yeah sometimes I doubt that...

You both laughed and his lips came to yours again, engaging a deeper kiss than before, a smirk still plastered on his face now that he had your attention all for himself.

[2nd-drop-me-safely-in-this-hell]

ladytrish pre-dmc 1 meeting au?

"A Premature Meeting"

Characters

Lady (Devil May Cry)

Trish (Devil May Cry)

Relationships

Lady x Trish

Premise

A sinister plot unfolds to lure the son of Sparda to his doom... But you know that story. This time around, however, a key player visits an old ally of Dante's just before events go into motion.

Content Warnings:

Firearms (Magically Resisted)

Explosives

Dismemberment (Magically Healed)

Canon Divergence

Author's Note:

This is actually a really good idea, thank you anon. I may actually write a follow-up to this, no promises though.

Lady flopped onto her couch, clutching Kalina Ann in her arms. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her riding suit, but all discomfort and soreness was outweighed by sheer exhaustion.

Her respite was cut short by a loud crash from the far wall. At once, Lady jumped behind the couch and took cover, peeking over to see her own motorcycle lying in the middle of her apartment, leaving a trail of glass and other rubble in its wake.

"What the hell?!" Lady roared.

As if to answer her question, the culprit made herself known. Landing behind the motorcycle was a tall, blonde woman, dressed in black leather boots, with skin-tight pants and a corset to match. Her hair was done up in a pony tail, and her eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses.

The woman looked fit, but there was no human explanation for throwing a motor vehicle into a second story window, then leaping in after it. Lady slung Kalina Ann onto her back, and placed a hand on her pistol - the human-sized demons tended to be too fast for Kalina Ann.

The mysterious woman turned, and met Lady's eyes. "Hm... One red eye, one green... Scar across the bridge of her nose... You're the one, alright."

"Tell me why you're here. Now." Lady drew her pistol. "Or else."

The intruder smiled. "Well well... You are a ferocious one, aren't y-"

Lady fired her pistol, hitting her right between the eyes. Even as the bullet crumpled and bounced off, leaving only a bruise, Lady's target grunted. "...That was rude." She hissed through gritted teeth.

Lady scoffed. "I don't know what's considered polite in the Underworld, but up here? Throwing motorcycles into people's windows doesn't exactly say 'I come in peace'."

The stranger chuckled. "I'll remember that next time."

"I won't ask you again." Lady cocked her pistol.

The woman smiled "I just need to know where I can find your friend, Dante."

Dante? Lady thought to herself. This woman knows him... Could she be another family member? Her hair isn't white, but she has his tan, and maybe his nose too...

"Who's asking?" Lady barked.

The demon glared. "No one's 'asking'. You're going to tell me. What's up to you is how much I'm going to hurt you first."

"Wrong answer." Lady fired her pistol again.

This time, the stranger dodged, and in an instant, she tossed the couch aside. "Right back at you." She then seized Lady by the throat, and lifted her off of her feet. "Surely you know by now that your only choice is to cooperate?"

"Think again." Lady retorted. "Look down."

The demon looked down to find that her right foot was planted on top of some sort of metal disk. "What's this?" She inquired.

"That's a landmine. Calibrated to fuck up demons like you." Lady answered.

The demon grinned smugly. "You've never faced a demon like me. I like my chances."

"But do you like mine? If you step off now, we'll both be caught in the blast. And I can't tell you anything if I'm dead." It was Lady's turn to look smug.

The woman's eyebrows raised, and her head cocked to the side. "Well played." At once, she tossed Lady over her shoulder.

She landed right beside her motorcycle, her leathers thankfully shielding her from the broken glass. Lady quickly got to her feet, and pushed the motorcycle upright.

"Oh, no you d-" The demon was cut off by a loud gang, and covered by a puff of smoke.

If this were a regular job, Lady would have stopped to make sure the demon was finished. Instead she climbed onto her motorcycle, and rode out of what used to be her window, landing in the street below and tearing away.

Who the hell was that?! Lady thought to herself. I better get myself to Dante's office. To warn him, and to get some answers.

* * *

"Agh, fuck me..." Trish came to, and looked down at herself to assess the damage. Her right leg was reduced to crystalized ichor. Nothing that wouldn't regenerate, and not nearly as painful as anything Mundus would bestow if he had witnessed this failure, but it was still a surprise.

As the stump began to extend into a complete leg again, she laid back down, and laughed to herself. Looks like I underestimated you, hunter. I hope this isn't the last we see of each other.

[magic-hcs]

Can I have a lil scenario of all my favorite things combined? 👀

Charon + meeting soulmate + ANGST 😈

PS: I absolutely adore your blog, your energy and writing always make my day 🥰

of course you can my dear anon! I loved writing this and accidentally wrote more than I thought I would. I hope you like it!

And Oh god, when i tried to save it to edit it a bit more on a different device it got deleted and i was about to yeet my laptop into space, and rage quit for a while (since I'm still healing from that writing burnout) and cry, luckily search history didn't let me down and I took back everything I just wanted to do in anger and sadness. deadass I copy and pasted everything I edited on a doc before trying anything again. So truly I hope you all enjoy!

Charon: Underfell Papyrus

warnings: angst, no comfort, Charon is rude, instant regret, first words are written on the body, maybe more

Time to cast some magic and see what we'll get!✨

✨✨

Charon: Ever had the feelings of regret becoming so strong it makes you bend your back at the sudden weight that whacks you upside the head and rams into you like a train?

Today had been one hell of a rough day. Despite the urge to scream his frustration to the heavens, he pushes on. He had to go shopping for dinner tonight, Charon refuses to do takeout. Healthy food made by Charon is superior to the sort of grub those order places serve up any day of the week. So to the store Charon goes, feeling like even the slightest inconvenience would set him off. Right when Charon couldn't find a specific ingredient a human walks up to him. you opened your mouth but Charon was faster.

"GET LOST HUMAN" Charon barked in your face. Hoping that you would leave him alone after this. But the reaction that he received from you wasn't you scuttling away in fear, or a face frowned in anger. Instead, it was a face of expected shock and unexpected devastated sadness mixed with resignation. Charon noticed your eyes were close to tears as you avert your gaze. With a sniff you roll your shoulders and straighten your back, as if wanting to push through some unbearable hardship. "Alright," you mumble, sniffing one last time and turning to the aisle they both were next to. "I'll get these myself then..." Right as you reach out your arm to grab at the can standing way too high up for your reach, Charon sees it: There on the inside of your arm where the ink black words spelling out in Charon's font 'GET LOST HUMAN.' And a realization hits Charon immediately after. On his own body, the words you had just uttered to him start to pleasantly tingle. Those words had given hope to Charon to find his soulmate. It was supposed to be wonderful to you too...But it brought you only heartache for so long long. It was supposed to be an incredible unforgettable thing. Now it just makes Charon sick. And it feels as if a train rams into him and slams down upon his back. Charon almost stumbles.

He unwillingly watches you strain your arm trying to reach that stupid can standing so high upon the shelf, watches your face be furrowed at the brows, and your resilient eyes desperately keeping the frustrating tears at the bay, sees the way you clench your jaw, holding in so much, throwing up a wall of pretense nonchalance. Charon begs himself to avert his gaze, begs his body to tear itself from the ground and to turn and never come back, begs for a time machine and redo it all over, begs for something, anything at all.

…

Your frustrated huff and a whispered “Goddammit" unshackled him from the confines of his stupor, making him reach out a hand that halts before even getting far. Mouth open but no noise comes out.

What could be done or said to undo a wrong that had been hurting you every day, an ugly reminder of how you’d never get to have a beautifully romantic fated meeting like how it was supposed to be.

…

The answer is simple; he can’t.

With a small flick of his phalanges the can behind the one you were reaching for gets illuminated by magic, and softly pushes the can in front of it. Inching it slightly over the board, right at the exact moment your fingers reached just below it. You tilted it from its perch, grabbing it just before it could fall. Charon turned away, swallowing down the knot that had formed inside his nonexistent throat.

“My Behavior Was Uncalled For, I Apologize.”

You turned to the voice that spoke up, expecting to see the skeleton man standing next to you. Only to find your eyes meeting a receding back.

Every step was a stab to the soul, clenching his teeth tighter, one would worry they’d crack. Your soft sniffles, the resignation on your face, it burns inside his mind, forcing him to watch it again and again. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve what has been done to you. What he has done to you.

The deepest part of him, the kindest part of him that he’s been hiding for so long wants to turn around and run to you. It wants to hold you, beg for forgiveness and swear that’ll hell do good, that he won’t ever treat you like that again.

But that would be selfish.

Once outside, Charon leans against the nearest wall and a shuddering breath leaves him. Subtly gripping the fabric of his clothes right above where his aching soul is located. Who would have thought that the pain he experienced the moment he got his trademark scratch mark across his socket would ever be surpassed?

A humorless chuckle leaves Charon. He shakes his head, pushing air past his teeth, forcing himself to be grounded, to get it together. Ignoring the ache he takes a few steps before realizing a big fact.

He had left his basket behind…and there were no groceries at home…and going back there, chancing seeing you again was not something Charon was looking forward to.

…

A big sigh leaves him.

It looks like takeout would have to do today…ugh…

BONUS:

Lounging on the couch, staring at a true crime documentary on tv is Red, scratching a sharp phalange along his teeth. There’s a bored scowl on his face, the constant loud tick tocks of the clock hanging on the wall deepens the frown. A few seconds pass. Red ‘tsks’ and snatches the remote to turn up the volume once more. He throws the remote back on the couch, in reach, as if he knew he would use it again at any moment.

Red started to tap his phalange at the small gap between his golden tooth and the other normal ones. An unconscious snrrk fills the room as Red can already guess what Charon would say when he sees what his older brother is doing.

‘Brother, If You Continue That Horrid Habit Of Yours You’ll End Up With Two Golden Teeth Instead Of One.’

His imaginary brother’s nagging sounds as irritating as the real deal.

Another snort leaves Red. A few seconds pass and this time it’s a huff before red eyelights flit over to the clock.

Two hours and thirty minutes.

It’s taking way too long. Red shakes his head. Stomping the thoughts away. A few minutes later the door clicks open and Red refuses to admit that the phalange that he had been jagging between his teeth slipped from his mouth, and that his shoulders had sagged at the noise of the familiar steps of Charon’s boots.

“lemme guess, couldn’t decide which fuckin’ salad dressing to take this time?” Red snarked over his shoulder, when he got no reply his shoulders bobbed in silent chuckle. Thinking the silence was just Charon refusing to go along with Red’s bicker he continued on. “boss, i swear, they all taste the freakin’ same.”

Still no reply. Red’s grin wavered slightly. “bro?” The steps thud up the stairs and there’s an uncharacteristically quiet click of a door. The once disappeared scowl returns in the shape of a confused and slightly concerned frown.

…

“…what in the fuck?”

Now, there is an unspoken ground rule in this house. A boundary none of them have crossed before.

Never enter the other’s room without the other’s knowledge or permission

Red has been knocking on this door for the last six minutes or so, at first asking in the form of jabs like “are ya cryin’ like a babe in there?” It got no indignant shriek from the other side of the door. So it was time to change tactics.

“do i need ta dust a fucker?” No harrumph of “I Don’t Need You To Do My Dirty Work, Brother. I Am Not Weak.” Or something along the likes. Just absolute silence.

…okaayy…something’s up.

“should i whip some up..?” Red refused to admit that slight worried crack in his voice. There was shuffling in the room, however, not one reply was made. “…bro…?”

….

never enter eachother’s room without permission.

…

’fuck it.’

Red shortcuts inside Charon’s room. Ready to be shouted at. Prepared to dodge some objects being hurled at him. But nothing came. Just this deafening quiet. Red finds Charon siting on his bed, knees tucked to his chest, arms dropped next to his side like a ragdoll having lost its strings keeping its arms alive.

“bro?” There are no tears, no grinding of the teeth, no frown or any indication or trace of any emotion at all. The look in Charon’s sockets terrify Red. Mostly because there is no look. It’s empty, vacant of eyelights, devoid of life. And he’s staring straight through Red, as if he’s not even there.

A chill shoots through Red's spine, making him shiver as if something’s crawling along his back. Red rushes towards his brother. Grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a shake. “bro?” He shakes some more. “bro, fuck off this ain’t fuckin’ funny.” The voice sounds nothing like Red. It’s desperate. A humorless chuckle that sounds more like a manic cackle filled with nerves fills the room. It sends Red’s soul racing, not realizing it was him making the sound. “charon-“

“…” Everything freezes. Red freezes. It was so quiet.

“what?” Its a gasp that leaves Red. The mumbles start up again. Charon’s head tilts slightly. Red just knows that his brother’s empty sockets are now looking at him. “…messed…ed..”

“what?” Its the only thing Red finds in his current vocabulary. He leans closer towards Charon. “…i messed up, red…”

It’s quiet for a long time. Red swallows. “…wh-what didya mes-mess up, bro?” Red finally asks, nervously stumbling over his words. He watched as Charon tilted his head slightly down towards his collar bone.

the place where the words proudly been tattooed on.

Red’s eyelights shrink. It couldn’t be…

“messed everything up…”

oh. no…

Red felt his non-existent stomach drop. And it kept dropping.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[aetherdoesthings]

HANAHAKI!READER x ROBIN EPILOGUE

forethoughts: well, it's been a fun ride taking this series home. just wanted to tie a sweet little bow to this present for my lovely EL anon who's been here since the beginning. merry christmas, EL anon. thanks for sticking around.

notes: it's like 12am and i have to wake up at 4 (don't ask). i've never written an epilogue before, so yeah. nevertheless, an ending is an ending, whether happy or sad. gn!reader, hanahaki au, high school au, modern times.

Peace. That was where you were. You strolled around an empty park, your shoes rolling across dry autumn leaves, the wind plastering onto your face like a cool hug. No recollection of your past, any memories that made you who you were could be found. All that surrounded you was nature. A giant cherry blossom tree was erect in the center, its flowers and petals whisked away by the gentlest breeze.

Pain was nonexistent, as was suffering. All that surrounded you was peace and serenity, coating your body like a warm blanket or the softest hug. 

You admired the scenery in front of you, watching the leaves dance in the wind and flowers join along. But as you watched the tree in this never ending realm you were in, enjoying the feeling of the wind brushing your skin, something wasn’t right. The tree was losing more petals and leaves, the wind whisking them away in one current. Eventually, the bark started to fly off the tree, joining the flow of leaves and branches. Like a tornado, the tree broke apart itself, joining its earthly brethren in the spiral flow that pointed upwards. You took a step back, unsure whether to run or stay put. As the tree disappeared, your breathing began to ease. Expanding your diaphragm felt easier and your throat didn’t itch or burn at all. It was a miracle. Air flowed through your body without any problem or obstacle, with no urge to cough or regurgitate. Everything was-

“And that is our presentation about Queen Elizabeth I. Thank you for listening!” Robin exclaimed. Everyone clapped as you stopped screen sharing your presentation, before heading back to your seat with Robin. She smiled warmly at you, mouthing ‘good job’ to you. You tried to smile back and sit down before your legs gave out, but you were only successful in one of the two tasks. 

“Alright, that’s all of our presentations done. Good job, class. Glad to see you’re better in health to do the presentation in person too, Y/N.” Thankfully, before any further embarrassment could be dealt, the bell rang, as the sound of chairs sliding across the ground, computer lids closing and chatter filling the room. You calmly packed all of your stuff, a small smile on your face as you exited the room. A hand wrapped around your wrist, dragging you against the current of the crowd. 

“Hey! Watch it!” You protested, watching Robin drag you into an empty toilet stall, swiftly locking the door behind the two of you. She gently pressed your body against the wall, her hands quick to each side of your cheek. Her lips enveloped yours, giving you a taste of heaven and ecstasy. You leaned into the kiss, mentally mapping out the dimensions of her lips just so you could think about it whenever you weren’t with Robin.

Robin lifted her lips away from yours to your disappointment, but the small giggle she let out in the end was all worth it. Robin gazed into your hazel brown eyes with her ocean blue ones, a perfect sunset created in your eyes. 

“Good job, partner.” Robin giggled, pecking a kiss on your cheek. “That was amazing.”

You blushed profusely, trying to find a spot in your vision that wasn’t covered by Robin. “I-It was nothing…”

“Our grade will say different.” Robin hummed. “Come on. School’s ended. Would you like to go get Starbucks together?”

The corners of your mouth shot up to your eyes. “I’d love that! I mean… if you’re okay with it…”

“Y/N, I’m asking. Of course I’m okay with it.”

“Oh. Right. I didn't know. Sorry… I'm not used to people talking to me. Especially you, now that we're... you know.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Don't worry about it, alright? Be yourself, that's all I care about. Be as awkward and weird as you want. I'd still love you nonetheless. My treat, okay? To completing our project. And to our first date~”

“You shouldn’t be saying that out loud...”

“Because people'll hear me? So what if people hear me? Why’d I try to hide my wonderful girlfriend from the world?”

You buried your head in the crook of Robin’s neck, letting the heat simmer and wash away from your cheeks. Robin simply laughed at your action, taking the opportunity to plant one more kiss on the top of your head. 

Her fingers ran through the locks of your hair, before ruffling it a bit. You couldn’t help but protest at her action as you looked up at her, worried she would ruin the hair that you had styled specifically for Robin. She stopped at your protest, letting out a chuckle at the sound that came out of your mouth. You gazed into her eyes, drowning in the sea of comfort and serenity.

“Can we go shopping too? Together?” You blurted out.

Robin gleamed at your offer. “Of course! I’d love to!”

Fire shot up from your guts to your cheeks, lava pooling on both sides. “G-Great!”

“Did you have something in mind you wanted to buy?”

“Well… not really… I just like to look around. Maybe I’ll buy something.” You murmured sheepishly. Truth be told, you did have something you wanted to buy. It had been sitting on the top of your buylist for a while. You had the money to buy it too. 

“Come on. We’re not getting anywhere by staying in this stall all day, dear.” Robin unlocked the door, whisking you away before anyone could ask any questions about two girls exiting the same stall together. It still baffled you about how you ended up here. Robin by your side. Your grades finally higher than a B-. 

But hey, since the world didn’t end three days ago, you might as well treat yourself, right?

cheers, EL anon. thanks for taking me on a ride with you.

-aether<3

[gallawitchxx]

caught in the act by gallawitch | rated: M | 2K

Mickey's had a shitty day. The cure? A beer at home with his husband and their teenage kid. But he never expected that his daughter would have a house guest...

a sweet anon popped into my inbox asking "if [i] could write something about if maybe mick and ian had a daughter and one day they left her home alone and came back to her fooling around on the couch with a boy? or a girl." why they think i'm the person to write galladads, i'll never know... but i tried anon! i really tried! especially because my sweet precious goblin king nosho's (@creepkinginc) birthday prompts were: fluff with slice of life. SO. here are some fluffy dads! i love you nosho! i love you anon! xx

- - - - -

It's been a fucking shitty day.

Mickey throws open the front door with all of the force he can muster, ignoring the flare of pain in his bad shoulder. Stupid thing’s been acting up again since the weather’s turned cold. 

The metal of the doorknob cracks against the plaster of the wall in their entryway, and Ian winces. “Mick—“

“Not now, Ian,” Mickey barks. 

[ read the rest below the cut or here on ao3]

What he wants to say is, Fuck off, Gallagher, but they’ve spent over two decades together, and can at least be on a first name basis. Plus, he’s been trying to work on his reactions to things. Be less hot-headed and more thoughtful, or whatever the fuck. But he’s almost at the end of his rope, his fuse already lit and rapidly burning down thanks to a frustrating combination of idiot clients and useless new hires. 

It’s days like today that have him wondering why exactly he thought he wanted to run a business. Be somebody’s boss. Be responsible for keeping the lights on and the customers happy. Even though he's been doing this for years, he can't help but think that it was a lot easier when he was running drugs and whores.

Louder, though, and he's become accustomed to the quiet.

He needs a fucking beer. 

Two maybe, he thinks as he toes off his boots. Shoves them in his designated cubby in the hall closet like the little domestic bitch he is. Even steps out of the way so that Ian can come up beside him and drop his own shoes off. 

Mickey’s not mad at him. No reason to be, they don't even work together anymore. Haven't in years. But Ian'd offered to pick him up after his shift at the new hospital downtown, and he'd stepped right into the crosshairs of an already terrible mood. Mickey just needs a minute to unwind.

Before either of them can say anything further, a slight whimper, of all things, wafts towards them.

Mickey cranes his neck to see further into the house, his rage quickly finding a new target. He feels Ian’s chest close to his back, and lifts a finger to his lips.

Other sounds follow—a hitched breath, the shifting of bodies against the soft, leather of their new couch (a splurge purchase made when all kids and dogs had been sufficiently trained up and housebroken), a small, wet pop that makes Mickey's spine curl.

He catches Ian’s curious stare, their shoulders raising as they make their way to the living room. It all feels familiar, yet odd. Been a while since either of them had their shackles up. The Southside even feels somewhat safe these days, thanks to a new generation of kids and a bunch of gentrifying motherfuckers. 

So it comes as a surprise to see someone strange in their house, making slick noises on their furniture, sticking their tongue down their daughter’s—

“Oh, hell no! You gotta be shitting me!” Mickey yells, Ian right at his heels.

The kid leaps to his feet, his shoulder-length hair as disheveled as his button-down; his eyes and his boner bulging in tandem. He looks to Mickey, horror-stricken, then glances at Ian before looking down towards the girl on the couch: sixteen-year-old Josephine Gallagher-Milkovich, bright red hair sprawled out beneath her wide, green eyes.

“Hey Dad…” she says, shrugging just slightly.

Mickey’s blood boils. “Hey Dad?! Jo, what the fuck?”

She scrambles to sit up, grabbing the blanket at the end of the couch to cover herself, despite being fully clothed. 

Thank Christ.

“I think you should probably leave,” Ian chimes in, pulling Mickey’s attention back to the kid wilting silently to his left. “Door’s just that way.”

“That’s a good fucking idea,” Mickey yells. He takes a step forward and crosses his arms, settling into a wide stance. “Better yet, let’s make sure I never see you again. Got it, Pimple Puss?”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir,” the kid mumbles, shoving on his shoes at lightening speed. He stands, looking at them both. “Uh, Sirs.”

“Yeah, yeah, get the fuck outta here!” Mickey reiterates as the kid runs past him. Mickey swings back around towards his daughter, who has dared to stand up while his back was turned. “Not so fast! You better stay right where you are.”

She freezes, her eyes wandering to Ian. The door slams shut behind them, and he jumps a bit. Shrugs. Shakes off her stare. He wants to be the one to come through for her, soften the blow of what’s about to happen, but he can’t. His hands are tied. Instead, he reaches for Mickey’s wrist, turning him slightly. 

Warm green eyes catch his ice-cold stare.

“Mickey, think about this,” he whispers. His gaze is sweet, and he rubs a little circle with his thumb across Mickey’s pulse-point. It’s soothing, and it brings Mickey back into his body for a moment. Back to the present. Back from another day, in another house, when it was them getting caught. 

Fuck, he hadn’t visited that memory in a while. Didn’t even realize he’d slipped there now until Ian’s breath ghosted his temple, his words evoking yet another day with the same captor. The gun in his hand that time. His eyes wild. Mick, pause.

Mickey sniffs. Gives Ian a curt nod, sucking his lip between his teeth, and preparing to face his dumbass daughter again. “Give us a minute?”

Ian squeezes his wrist, “Course.”

Jo opens her mouth in protest, but closes it again off of Ian’s look. She’s sure he’ll have his own shit to say about the state she’s been discovered in—the rules, and the trust that she knows she’s broken—but that’s sure to be a calmer conversation. Less at stake, and everybody knows it.

“Gonna order us a pizza, I’m starving,” Ian calls behind him as he leaves his two most cherished people to hash it out.

It’s instantly uncomfortable. 

Jo picks at the skin on her lip, her ticks always more Mickey than Ian. Nurture kicking nature’s ass. But Mickey’s never been able to hold steady around a Gallagher pout, so when he finally exhales and meets her eyes, he knows he’s full of nothing but hot air.

"I ain't mad," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger–a move that absolutely doesn't say everything's cool.

"You're not?" Jo asks, her eyebrows crinkling.

He drops his hands and takes in her expression, now dancing between terrified and confused. Shakes his head and says, ”Course not. I was banging your pops all over this neighborhood way younger than you are now.”

"Ugh, Dad.”

Mickey chuckles, briefly lost again in different, more pleasant memories; of stock rooms and refrigerators. ”Got caught a lot, too.”

Jo’s shocked. ”You did?”

“‘Course we did. We were dumb fucking kids! Got caught by his pervert boss, by fucking Frank... Another time, too…” He shifts his weight, and thumbs at his nose. “Let's just say that if you're gonna follow in our footsteps and fuck around in the open, you're goddamn lucky that it's us walking in that door.”

Jo nods. She doesn’t know the ins and outs of her fathers’s lives before her. Neither of them have spilled all of their secrets, and some things might never be relayed. But she knows enough to know it was way different from how she's grown up, and she knows that she can always ask. They’ll be honest with her. They’ve made a point to share what’s important, and tell it to her straight. 

She’s a good kid. 

They raised her up pretty damn well, despite all of the fear, and the doubts.

Mickey clicks his teeth, making his way to sit beside her on the couch."A guy though? Really? I mean, I get it.” He pops her one on the shoulder, playfully. “But I was always kinda hoping you'd be smarter than me.”

Jo goes beet red, her arms folding cross her chest. "Uh, yeah, about that..." She takes a deep breath and says, “I’m… queer. I think. I like, uh, both. All? People. I like people.”

“Oh,” Mickey says, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Yeah."

“Cool."

She squints at him. “Cool?”

"Never really liked anyone 'sides that alien-lookin' motherfucker listening in from the kitchen" – there's a rustling from the room in question as Ian backs away from the doorway – "But yeah, that's cool. Thanks for telling me.”

She nods. "Thanks for listening.”

"Look, I may not be the easiest to talk to or the most in touch with my feelings or whatever, but I'm always gonna listen." He puts a tattooed hand on her knee. "I love you, kid.”

"I love you too, Dad.”

He pulls her in, tight to his chest. Her hands ball into little fists against his back as she wraps around him, and he remembers those same fists grabbing tight to his pointer finger the day she came home from the hospital.

A new surge of possessiveness swoops through him. 

"You being safe?”

“Dad…”

He can hear the eye roll, so he pulls back, taking her by the shoulders trying to catch it in action. Knows she’s embarrassed, but he ain’t done yet. Even as a dad, he can be a little shit. 

"I can tell ya about condoms and lube, though that might not be such a thing for you? I don't know fuck all about a woman's body. Already seen way more than I ever wanted to… And it seems like you're past whatever I woulda told you before…"

She shudders at the outpouring of information, but she’s intrigued. "What would you have told me before?”

He settles back on the couch, spreading his legs just slightly, a mischievous smirk on his face. 

"Aight, I got yer cheap birth control right here. Only costs a penny. You put the penny on the inside of your knee—doesn’t matter which—and then you hold it in place with the other knee.”

He demonstrates, closing his knees together and holding it tight, his hands now raised high in the air.

Jo groans, “Oh my god.” 

Ian plops down on the couch next to Mickey, tired of being relegated to the kitchen. ”You’re a dumbass.”

"'Ey, I think it's a great option,” Mickey balks. “Affordable, ya know?”

"You heard?” Jo asks Ian, her cheeks pinking up.

"I heard,” he confirms, his arm stretching past Mickey to tenderly touch her cheek. “We love you.”

“Love you too,” she says. “And I'm being safe… Haven't really done much yet.”

"Take your time,” Ian says simply. “There’s no rush.”

“He’s right,” Mickey adds, “especially because you’ll be grounded for the next month.”

“A month?! For kissing? That’s not fair!” Jo complains.

“Tough.”

“But you said it yourself I’m not doing anything you two weren’t doing!”

“Fine, two weeks,” Ian says, earning him a “yes!” from Jo, and a scowl from his husband.

“Did you even order dinner in there or were you just listening in the whole time?"

Ian flushes. Grumbles something as he pulls out his phone.

“Fucking figures,” Mickey says. Turns back to Jo. “And we’re your parents, kid. Thing’s ain’t always going to be fair. So, fine, two weeks because your old man’s a pushover, but I better not catch you hooking up on my couch again, capisce?”

“Capisce,” she smiles.

Young, bare knuckles bump against older, inked ones.

“Now, I’ve had a crap day. Make yourself useful and get me a beer, would you?”

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Kidnapping Luzura (A short fanfic request for Elsewhere and Elsewhen anon. Based on these pieces here and here that they wrote.)

"Found you~" Philip cooed triumphantly in a sing-song voice, holding the round object he had been looking for in his grasp.

As he views his reflection in it, the object is revealed to be a mirror with a crescent moon drawn on it.

The Collector's disc.

He had finally found it.

Philip proceeds to place it into his satchel, a satisfied look on his face.

He was so close to was completing his very important mission, and it was all thanks to that gullible witch.

Speaking of her, Philip gazed in her direction and saw her and Luzura running for their lives from the rampaging Stonesleeper.

The two try their best to evade it.

A look of genuine concern crossed his face as he watched them.

'That poor human girl...' he thought to himself as he dug a hand into his satchel and retrieved his journal and quill pen.

After opening his book, Philip began flipping through it until he found a new page.

Using his pen, he starts drawing a plant glyph diligently on the paper.

After completion, he activates it in Luz's direction.

"Aaa!" Luz screams in fear as vines loop around her figure, pulling her over to Philip.

This causes Lilith to gasp with widening eyes.

"Luz!" The witch cried out to her niece, her right hand reaching foward.

Philip placed his journal back in his satchel and kneeled down to activate the teleportation glyph as Luz sat next to him, entwined in the vines.

She grunted, desperately trying to escape her imprisonment.

"Say goodbye to Aunt Dirtrude, Luzura," Philip hummed darkly to her, pressing the glyph.

Luz's eyes widen as she turned her body towards Lilith.

"Lili-"

Before she could finish, she and Philip were transported back to the cave they started in.

...

Luz opened her shut eyes. "Huh?"

She blinked as the teleportation flash faded away, and saw that she and Philip were no longer in the same cavern where Lilith and the Stonesleeper were.

Still wrapped in the vines, she turned to glare at Philip as he stood. "What was that for?!"

Philip began to brush the dirt off of his blue coat.

"I was expecting another human to express gratitude towards me for rescuing them from a witch," He huffed.

"Human?" Luz gasped. "Wait a minute! How'd you know I was human? I never told you that."

"You had saved me from those thickheaded demons who were attempting to destroy my journal. You wouldn't have done that if you were a witch," He explained, looking down at her.

A playful smirk started to spread on his lips. "Also, you're a terrible liar," He hummed with a chuckle.

Luz gasped once more.

"Hey, you take that back!" She demanded. "And take me back to my cool aunt Dirtrude! I need to save her!"

Poor Lilith was probably still being hunted down by that Stonesleeper, she thought.

Philip shook his head. "I think not." His tone returned to its cold and calm state as he continued. "It's quite clear to me that the witch you believed to be your aunt was corrupting you. Someone I know experienced something similar..."

Used to know.

He was long gone.

Philip proceeded to pick up Luz and tuck her under his arm like a log of Palistrom wood, the hip opposite to the one in his satchel.

"Come along. It's important that we get back to my camp before sunset, and I have to write down a daring discovery and rescue in my journal."

Philip began heading towards the entrance of the cave.

"Take me back! Take me back!" Luz ordered with a bark, attempting to break free from the vines once more in order to retrieve a glyph and escape.

Her enragement was further fueled by Philip's lack of response.

"YOU BIG BEARDED BRITISH JERK! I HOPE YOU GO BALD! I HOPE YOU GET SMASHED INTO A WALL SOMEDAY! LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!"

I'm afraid I can't do that, Luzura," he insisted calmly.

Luz continued to insult him as he sighed.

What made her want to return to that witch so badly?

He sighed a second time.

She was just like Caleb.

[wardenred]

Angstober 10: Can't Go Home

Ugh, I'm so behind at posting these. 😅 I've been producing flash fics fairly reliably, but getting into the right mindset for editing them is another matter.

Anyway, this is another instance at poking at that one ever-growing plot bunny. Links to previous installments: [1], [2], [3], [4]

Alita longed to go home, and she didn’t even know what she meant by that.

The capital steered up a whirlwind old memories. The kind of memories she’d firmly believed were her sister’s domain. She had been, after all, too young when she was spirited away to the outskirts of the kingdom. How could she possibly retain anything but the vaguest impressions of being a babe here at court, hiding behind her mother’s skirts or bouncing on her father’s knee? Surely every image that ever flickered in her mind was at least halfway a product of her imagination.

And yet now that she walked the marble-lined paths of the indoors garden, she was struck by the familiarity of it all. She’d round a corner, and recognize something: a red-barked tree with its leaves eternally gilded, or a peculiar formation of rose bushes. A scent in the air. A particularly slippery patch of stone under the soft soles of her shoes. All of it felt like something she’d once had and could never get back again, even though here she was, existing awkwardly in the middle of it all.

Perhaps it was her imagination. After all, it had been a decade. Even more than that. It seemed inconceivable for the palace to spend all that time suspended in limbo, awaiting her return. Within this buoyant heart of the kingdom, changed happened rapidly. Styles went out of fashion as swiftly as summer butterflies back in Longhills changed their colors. It must be true for gardening as well as hairdos and dresses.

Longhills. Another home she painfully missed. The comfort of her uncle’s mansion, the predictability of her days there. Long evenings by the fire. Books and chess. Helping the old cook, Ghilta, around the kitchen even though she wasn’t supposed to. Feeding seeds and fresh peas to the starlings that lived in the garden right outside her room. Planting gardenias and lilies. Finding purpose in every moment of the day.

Here, she had nothing to do except follow her uncle around—and even that wasn’t always an option. Like now. He’d brought her here to the gardens so that they could discreetly observe the courtiers, then find a secluded place to discuss the recent developments. However, they’d barely stepped inside when a servant called after them, an old man with a bushy beard and the King’s personal insignia plastered proudly over his blue livery. He’d spoken to Uncle Rythan in a whisper too low for Alita to hear and pushed something into his hands before disappearing behind a wall of vibrant succulents. Alita watched her uncle grow tight-lipped and still.

“It won’t take long,” he had promised her, neglecting as usual to explain what it meant. “You just take a walk here, all right? Keep your eyes and ears open and make sure not to wander too far from the gates. I’ll be with you anon.”

At least an hour had elapsed since, if her inner clock could be trusted at all. Alita had done her best to follow her uncle’s guidance, strolling back and forth along the same semi-circular path, except she must have got lost in thought and taken a wrong turn at some point, because she could no longer see the entrance. Everywhere she turned her gaze, there were trees and blossoms, hedges and complicated arrangements of rocks. She heard no voices and saw no bejeweled fabrics.

Helplessly, she looked around once more. Now how was her uncle going to find her? The entrance was in the western part of this fake park, she remembered that much. It did little to help her, though. If this was a real garden, she could have relied on the position of the sun and the natural growth patterns of plants to orient herself. Here, it was useless. Everything was artificial. Whatever light filtered through the vaulted stained glass ceiling got hopelessly distorted by the kaleidoscopic mosaic.

What a stupid fool she was, to get lost in what was essentially a single big room full of plants! Alita drew a shuddery breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Uncle Rythan had misjudged her. He should have brought Norra. Her sister would take to court like a bird to the sky. So what if she would be a little distracted? Uncle Rythan didn’t need as much input as he’d claimed he would. They’d hardly been talking at all this entire week.

I don’t know what I’m doing, she admitted to herself with a sinking heart, and the thought applied to so much more than her current predicament.

The paths and the trees that had felt so achingly familiar a moment ago were now a strange maze, a trap closing in on her. Alita gulped. She needed to retrace her steps—an obvious, sane choice—but she’d been stuck in place for a little too long and she didn’t know whether she should go left or right.

Norra would go for a third option. But there wasn’t—

Wait. No. There was.

Between two swirling flower beds, there lay another path, a narrower one leading deep into a copse of unnaturally lush lilac trees.

Weren’t there lilacs in front of the entrance, too?

It was this, or do nothing. Alita squared her shoulders and stepped forth. The lace-trimmed hem of her dress kissed golden sand instead of marble; her silk-clad feet drowned in the softness. Was this passage even made for the noble guests’ walking, or was she intruding upon the servants’ territory? How absurd was this thought?

The trees closed rank in front of her, branches covered in thorns that lilacs weren’t supposed to have. She pushed one aside, then another. A thorn caught on one of her narrow sleeves, digging deep into the seam and her goosebump-covered flesh underneath. Alita yelped.

“Who goes there?”

She froze at the sharp male voice, then hastened to step back. Too late.

The branches unfolded in front of her, as if by magic, revealing a small clearing. Two men stood there, intimately close together. One of them was of a smaller height than average, with a nondescript face and shrewd eyes. The other...

Alita barely suppressed a gasp.

“Your Highness.” She fumbled with her skirts in the best version of a formal curtsy she was capable of. She suspected it wasn’t a seemly sight. It never was with her, no matter how often she practiced. “I’m so incredibly sorry to intrude—”

“I’m certain you are.” It was a wonder no leaves shriveled or frosted over from the chill in Prince Cassar’s voice. “I would expect nothing less from a court guest devoid of any rights or privileges, intentionally caught in the act of spying on the heir to the throne.”

“I wasn’t...” She made the mistake of looking up. Under the weight of his glare, the words withered in her throat.

What had she got herself into?

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Just want to say that I love reading the drabbles involved the breakout au and others. Over and over again. I saw the one with Terry punishing Shdwkyz when they tried to break out of prison again. I know the thread with Davion and Rust. I wonder if there is a deleted scene where Rust gets punished by the dragon similar to Shdwkyz for trying to break out of prison again after their plan to incite a riot has failed.

((Hello there anon! First to say, thank you! I'm glad you liked the drabbles involving the two couples here. And honestly yes, their is a deleted scene involving that. I can write it up for you so give me a moment.))

((And again, Rust belongs to my friend @demon-blood-youths ))

Silver butterfly mun/Peahen mom

Davion was sitting on a chair while having one leg crossed over the other, his eyes looking to the prisoner who was on his knees but his wrists were handcuffed behind his back.

Damn it, his plan didn't work and now he and Shdwkyz got caught. He hopes his friend was alright but he glares back at the warden who was shaking his head.

"You know, you keep doing this you'll end up being here for a long time you know. Or are you that hardheaded not to listen?" he asked hearing a growl from the other.

"Why the hell do you care? You better let me go or I'll kick your ass!" He barked only for the Dragon to look at him.

"Such a mouth...*sighs* You really are going to misbehave even if I talk to you..no matter, I'll just have to fix that mouth of yours.." He said standing up to walk over to Rust. Right away, he moves back to feel his back hit the wall but Davion grabs him and held him there.

"What are you doing!? Get the hell away from me!" he said.

"Oh no, I need to make sure you behave and listen like a good knight. But..seems this dragon has to work on making you behave.. "he said that Rust sweats a little wondering what he's planning.

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

Rust was shaking while he was looking away while trying to ignore his hands keeping him still. He was given some of his dragon blood again but he was twitching. His fingers were stroking him as he was trying not to cum but he twitched feeling his fingers pulling on his nipples now. It burned but in a good way while he was panting.

"Stop squirming, Rust. It's not that bad if your going to at least listen." he said against his ear but he glares showing his red eyes while he heard this.

"F..fuck..Nugghh y..you.." he hissed that Davion looks quiet then down to start stroking his cock faster that Rust grunts feeling that while holding his groans back. His body was hot and yet, he only feels him now seeing some pre-cum on the tip.

"I'm not the one who's getting fucked soon, little knight. Now...if you be honest with me then I might be easy on you..but you don't want that..do you?" he asked seeing Rust twitch when he kisses his neck again but leaves a bite there. He hisses with eyes closed tight but he was shaking panting with drool seen. Damn this dragon. He's trying to break him again! No no no, he had to stay focused. He had to find a way to get him to stop.

"I told you t..to let me go or I'll f..fucking kill you!" he growls but Davion keeps him down that Rust tenses up feeling something hard against his ass. However, his eyes widen to Davion chuckling.

"Even if that means I can't punish you? You don't seem to even throw a single punch at me.." He said but Rust was shaking with eyes wide panting. He was hard and this made Rust's heart beat crazy.

"T..that's not.." he tries to talk but he heard Davion chuckle to keep his hips down but made him move his hands to rest on his bulge and feel.

"You sure?" He whispered to Rust's ear that the outer shell blushes red. "Because if you did wish to kill me...then I can't make you feel good with me filling you up till your cumming." He growls but nips Rust's ear that he gasped while he was touching him again. He was trying to stay focused but his touches, his voice, it's too much!

"But.." He forces Rust on his knees but looks to him before smacking his ass a little. "I'll just have to punish you till you do behave like a good boy." he said that Rust was shaking now.