#attempts at ​nonstop studying. was not a good idea.

[bitterpngs]

[animehouse-moe]

Oushi and Ableism In A Sign of Affection

I want to get better at sharing more granular opinions on matters, so here's one of a few posts that's a sort of catchup from a busy weekend.

I totally get why everyone is talking nonstop about Oushi's ableism within the series- it's entirely justified and a point that's meant to be driven home. But I think a lot of people miss the remaining entirety of his character because of that.

Villains always get dismissed very quickly for their behavior, and I understand, but it means a lot of people fail to understand the purpose behind it. That's another conversation though I'm here to talk about Oushi.

Anyways, Oushi = Ableism is the thing I always see, and it's not wrong but it's abstracting a lot of the point of his character.

To him, Yuki is a delicate flower that needs protecting, and a girl that should be given everything on a silver platter.

The easiest example is that he exclusively talks to her via sign language. And I'd certainly forgive a lot of people for not quite understanding why that's ableist, so let me explain quickly with a very shallow and borderline incorrect answer.

You're in a foreign country, but you've studied their language so that you can converse with them in it, and you're pretty good with it. You try to speak with someone and they instead choose to respond in your language. Doesn't feel great, does it?

That's the point of ableism like this, it neglects the efforts of the individual to decide for them that another person should interact with them in a way that's "easiest" for them. They decide what is right and what is easy for another, and by doing so entirely discount the person that they're attempting to cater to.

But that's that, let me explain the depths beneath Oushi's ableism.

He learnt sign language specifically for Yuki, and chooses to converse entirely within sign language. What he thinks is that he's doing Yuki a favor and doing what's easiest for her. I mean, he spent all that time and effort on learning sign language just so that he could more easily interact with her.

But that point goes past Yuki because of how selfish it is. And childish, even.

Oushi's character is one that hasn't really matured past the idea of a young and insecure Yuki that he would have framed her as when they were younger. He sees her as fragile and something that should be protected, something that others would take advantage of. He's a person that can only see things through his own eyes.

And that inability to mature and view things from somewhere else is what's created this ableism. He loves Yuki, but he can't tell her and he thinks that his feelings will get across with his childish behavior. He can't say those words so he attempts to hold her within his world and keep her from slipping through his grasp.

Oushi is obviously very ableist, but the point is that his intentions are not to be. The point of his character is to illustrate the many ways that ableism arise in day to day life in forms and shapes that are not explicitly malicious. His whole character is a cautionary tale about how you interact with people, about how you should be meeting them where they set things rather than you deciding for yourself.

So yeah, A Sign of Affection remains an incredibly great story with very deep and important characters that I've been loving. They provide so much context and information to the reader/viewer that's deeply important in so many different conversations.

[azuresky-agere]

Hiya! Sorry to bother you, but I really like your stories and was wondering if you could write CG! Alhaitham and Little! Kaveh. I think Haitham being unsure about how to care for an upset Little roommate is a funny/cute idea ^^ If you don't want to, that's totally fine!!!

omg yes yes baby kaveh time!!

Little!Kaveh and CG!Alhaitham - upset Kaveh

"The ability to appreciate beauty is an important virtue."

Mentioned ship (briefly): Alhaitham x Kaveh :3

─ 𖥔 ─

At first, Alhaitham was unsure of how to process Kaveh's regression.

He knew some bits about his parner's headspace- he knew what foods he preferred, what drinks he preferred, the items he used, and how old he went when regressing on a bad day.

He also knew about the tendency for him to overwork himself.

"Kaveh." Alhaitham knocked on the other's study, hearing shuffling for a few moments, before he opened the door. To say he was exhausted was an incredible understatement. Bags rest under the architect's eyes, and he was hardly standing upright without toppling over from exhaustion alone.

"Oh, hey." he mumbled. "Y' need somethin?"

"You look exhausted. Go to bed." Alhaitham said. He was never really known for "beating around the bush" or trying to sugarcoat his words, and as much as he loved Kaveh to death, he wouldn't start now.

Kaveh simply pointed to his desk, nestled in the corner of the room. Alhaitham stepped inside said room, glancing at the papers strewn about the desk- clearly prototypes for the main building, all which had gone horribly awry.

He attempted to pick a crumpled piece of paper up the floor, but it was quickly snatched from his hand, and hastily thrown into a nearby trashcan.

"Don' look. S' bad." Kaveh mumbled, flopping back into his chair. It felt like Kaveh was small, but denying himself the chance to rest.

"You're small." Alhaitham pointed out- much to the childish pout of Kaveh. "Or, alternatively- you're slipping."

"Maybe?" he huffed. "M' a big boy."

Alhaitham chuckled at this, standing over the other- almost like a protective parent. "Needless, you still need to tidy up."

With a childish whine, he began to gather all of the papers which had been discarded over the past few hours of nonstop work, and simply placed them in the trashcan.

Alhaitham gave an effective nod, offering the boy his pacifier. Once Kaveh had latched onto the item, he was scooped up by Alhaitham. "Let's get some food into your tummy, and then we can nap, hm?"

Kaveh nodded, yawning. "Done lots'a work. S' good!"

"I suppose so, little one." he hummed. "But too much work without a break isn't the best. Perhaps you need to take breaks more often."

To this, Kaveh nodded.

[pokespefangirl]

(For the Pokéstar Studios AU)

Hey this is the same anon, I'm super happy that you liked the idea! Sincerely, I am extremely stoked, thank you so much!

This concept has been running through my mind nonstop ever since that ask and I have a few more ideas. Not to pressure you to add this in the fic or force these ideas on you, yet again I'm just having fun sharing these.

Anyways, Blake and Black brother-in-law moments REAL?! Whitley and White sister-in-law moments TRUE!? Ugh i'm eating up these hypothetical scenarios.

White most likely assigns Black to be Blake's bodyguard whenever he decides to go out, since he has celebrity status and all. The same thing goes for Whitley, though I see Blake accompanying her a lot too. So Black has to thirdwheel, not knowing it's Blake enacting vengeance for all those time he was the thirdwheel when it was just White, Black, and him at the BW Agency.

Also more of how I think Blake would be as an actor, though in this scenario he never received super spy training, he probably got super intense media training from White. They're both coming up with insane, genius, absolutely unhinged strategies to manipulate the media, Light Yagami monologuing typa bamboozlery. And Whitley and Black are just having a pleasant chat, side eyeing them every thirty seconds or so.

I imagine Blake's acting style to be refined, perfect, infallible that it's almost too much. Since he doesn't understand emotions, he studies, studies, studies, and studies. Writing down what his character would do, analyzing every line of dialogue, down to the body language and speech patterns etcetera. That's how he's able to nail so many different characters. AKA Christian Bale ahh acting style.

Now for Whitley, she's the opposite, she's new and unrefined, full of flaws. But full of emotion, her performances reaches out and captures. Delivering the feel needed for the scene and character.

And it really fascinates Blake, how she's so in tune with her emotions, making him kinda obsessed with her reactions...

That's it for now, I haven't even touched the surface for Blake and White's sibling dynamic but I sort of don't want this to be novel-length. Yet again, I am so happy that you accepted that ask! I really look forward to what you're cooking up, take as much time as you need!

Lil Bonus:

Blake: *trying to spook/fluster Whitley* Great job on set, your acting needs a little more work but you've got potential.

Whitley: Oh! Um, thanks...

Blake: You should learn how to be more confident, we don't want people to think you're easy to take advantage of...those rumors in Pokéwood are not to be taken lightly. *attempts to rizz* don't worry I'll-

Whitley: OH NO, w-were you a victim!?

Blake: Wh-what of course not-

White: *Bonks him on the head* Of course not! I made SURE that never happened to him, and I will DEFINITELY do the same for you!

ANON YOU ARE DRIVING ME ABSOLUTELY CRAZY W HAPPINESS W ALL OF THESE GREAT FANTASTIC Amazing Awonderf IDEAS, OFC I NEED TO ADD ALL OF THEM NOW <3 NEED TO GO TO SCHOOL SOON SO I'LL ADD MORE LATER BUT FOR NOW I WAS THINKING

Blake is studying Whitley right?!!! Almost out of a curiosity as to how she feels and experiences all these emotions?? So naturally!! Especially her beautiful eyes that get teary whenever shes thinking about something sad! He could study her all day!!

To add to that: Blake never had pets or cared for animals bcs you know... sociopath and all, but he starts seeing Whitley feeding a stray cat!! ANd EVENTUALLY (WHEN THERES SOME ANGST POINT) HE STARTS FEEDING THE LITTLE KITTEN HIMSELF just from seeing Whitley when he's walking by all alone!!

And you're so right he'd craft his image with the convoluted intelligence of Light Fucking Yagami lmaoo that's so good!!

AND UK WHITE IS THE MOST AMBITIOUS GIRL LIKE SHE'S MAKING SURE BLAKE IS TOPPING ALL THE RATINGS AWARDS WHATEVE, BUT her YOUNGER BRO ALSO ANNOYS HER SOMETIMES W HIS HEINOUS SOCIOPATHY AND SHE HAS TO DO DAMAGE CONTROL LMAOO (mostly it's him being with all sorts of ladies before being w Whitley and unintentionally breaking their hearts cus they didn't interest him for too long)

AND BLACK IS SUCH A FIERCE BODYGUARD BUT ALSO WHOLESOME!! LIKE HE WILL KILL FOR HIS BROTHER IN LAW!! BUT OFC OFC HE'LL GIVE THE FANS FREE FOOD AND GIFT BASKETS ON HIS BEHALF TOO AND HELP THE FANS GET BLAKE'S AUTOGRAPH especially he'll help anybody whose disabled bcs it's the right thing to do!! God he's so good

so yeah Whitley!! Whitley is pure!! Unfiltered!! And blake doesn't know what that's like aside from his family everybody else in Hollywood tend to be shallow and judgemental and fake!! But Whitley s not afraid to cry, to smile, to laugh, she's not afraid of what ppl think and guess what!! Blake needs that bcs he's been hiding his sociopathy all along! Bcs his career would be over if anybody revealed his diagnoses!!

Initially it started out as fun that he studied Whitley and tried to get emotions out of her!! Initially he just joked she was becoming an addiction! Just something to have!! But then things started to get real and he began to experience!!

Something big!! Something else!! Nobody had ever kept him that interested in his life!! Jumping from person to person!! Director to Director!! Everybody was fed up with him but then came in Whitley!! And this man just cannot let her go!!

And ya know Black is ready to defend his whole family!! He's outside of his work hours still doing his job cus that's what he should do!! Is Prez okay?? Where should we go next?? Lemme be with you Prez i cant risk anything happening to u not on my watch imma be the best bodyguard ever!! And Blake's just standing there like- "Bet"

ANYWAYS I SAID I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TIME BUT I GUESS I HAD TO RESPOND HAHAHA, thank you so much this whole au and concept is honestly making my day and i can't wait to finish it!!

[iron-bullogna]

still so surreal to me how excited to write I am. I haven't felt this way since FO4 and DAI. haven't given a shit about any of my OCs this much in years too but I just keep adding to my Durge's lore.

idk why I'm just so stuck on his name but this is all I have for noodling on the idea for now along with some of his lore

all I do know is I want him to have his "name" which is the one he takes for himself and then have whatever his old name was. fairly certain I want his old original name to have been Lysander. I want whatever name his went by before to be one he doesn't learn until he meets Gortash.

but idk I'm thinking of literally just name him...Dirge. he isn't the smartest and all he remembers is the urge so I see it highly likely he would have just told the first person he told him name to "Da...urge..." because I have a feeling he realized how fucked up it sounded as he was saying it and that it probably wasn't a good idea so he hesitated

in my scenario it's Shadowheart that accidentally "names" him. when she hears him say this she asks, "Uh...dirge? as in a lament for the dead?" and he's like "uhhhhhh uh yeah sure."

idk I think Dirge is also fitting because it really is a lament for the dead. his own death. the death of his former life and the beginning of this one. and for the ones who will fall because of him.

also because for my durge his "canon" ending is with Gale in Waterdeep. he leads a pretty mundane but happy life at first. my durge is fighter/bard (he may change but always with a teeny bit of bard) who trains his body relentlessly as a way for him to attempt to reclaim agency over his self. it's one thing he feels truly in control of. because of this (and while he is not much taller than gale) he is exceptionally strong and works as an independent contracted bouncer at a number of taverns in the city. both he and gale have late nights studying and him working.

he carries immense guilt for the lives he has taken, especially alfira's. he has carried lihala's lute with him the entire journey. (i also realized and idk if anyone has already made the connection but those gnolls outside the grove killed lihala right? and weren't those durge's gnolls....so isn't he responsible in a way for BOTH of them dying? ouch.)

because of alfira he discovered he knew how to play in the first place (in my fic series it becomes relevant I swear). ever since she gave him the lute, he would use it to try and remember more, but also as a distraction from the urges. music and gale's voice were some of the only things to ever even come close to numbing or distracting from the urges and the pain.

he kept up playing long after the events of bg3, though privately. gale encourages him nonstop to find his own path and passions in life. whatever hobby durge wants, gale indulges and so they have sooooo many adhd piles of nonsense and rooms in the tower. durge's "lair" is now just an adhd clusterfuck of hobbies. gale just wants durge to be happy, he has more than enough to support them.

he encourages durge to work or have some sort of job or activity outside of the tower, only because he knows it would negatively impact durge's mental health to not interact with others and try and make friendships and connections with people outside of their household (even if gale is incredibly guilty of also lacking in friendships outside of his work colleagues and circle there)

gale knows of durge's hobby of playing lute of course and encourages him to try and play at some of the taverns he has been a bouncer since he already has connections at those places, but it's something durge is very self conscious of.

i haven't decided if he ever will but I am fond of the idea if he does play publicly, him gaining a decent fanbase because he is handsome and fucking ripped yet haunting and fucking sad looking and writes sad songs and people eat that shit up I'm sure (mama please I love him I can fix him!!! vibes)

also, as I said in the tags this is super similar to how I write everything out when I write fanfic. I write the bones out in a very similar way except describing what feelings I want to invoke and a bit more

actually am gonna be saving my bones from 'sapere' which is the second part of my durge/gale series so I can post them here once it is finished in case anyone would find that helpful/interesting/funny/horrifying because it has helped the few people I've explained it too. it's essentially just outlining but so casual and stupid lmao

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

@extramachine

I love these tags so much and they've got me thinking even more about this lovely concept

(full ficlet under the cut!) At first, their interactions are as brief as he can manage. Joey hovers sullenly by the little girl's side, fielding her endless questions, biting his lip not to snap at her and let the simmering bitterness come pouring out.

It’s not the kid’s fault that he’s stuck with her. It’s not her fault that she has no idea what she’s getting into.

It’s not her fault that her aunt is dead.

(He has no one to blame but himself for that.)

By the time Lauren's "final arrangements" are made, and the foster care busybodies have started clucking about "placements," things have gotten - somewhat better. Tolerable.

The kid - Rosa, not Rose or Rosie or anything else - is nice enough. Kinda cute, in a scruffy, Raggedy Ann doll way, with her frizzy red pigtails and big green eyes. And her questions have tapered off from "nonstop" to "every couple minutes," which he figures he can - well, not live with, but you know.

He's put up with worse - way worse - as far as Blackwell girls go. Hell, this one even acknowledges he exists.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he feels the bullet-scarred walls thrown up around his heart start to crack.

He wraps his tie around his wrist so she can hold his hand as they walk home from school. She chatters excitedly about the newest book she's reading, leafing through the pages with her free hand and holding them up from him to see.

He catches himself calling her “kiddo,” just like Lauren had.

He teaches her to sew with a shitty dime store kit that she picks up one winter, walking her through the stitches and patterns that came so easily once.

Her first few attempts are a little clumsy, but she gets the hang of it soon enough. She's a quick study, his kid. Smarter than he ever was.

She takes to the job the universe lays out for her just as quickly. At eight years old, she's spending every day on the outskirts of the playground, talking to the shade of another timid little girl. Twelve, and she's getting in trouble for scaling a neighbor's fence to chase after a runaway spook, her blushing face scraped and dirty from the fall. Sixteen, and she's knelt in an alley surrounded by a halo of broken glass, holding out her tie-wrapped hand to help the soul of a car crash victim from the wreckage.

She’s growing up to be a good medium. Patient. Kind. Resourceful and clever and quietly, fiendishly stubborn.

So much like her aunt, and yet nothing like her at all.

He wonders, sometimes, hovering by the window late at night, where Lauren Blackwell ended up. If she’s still out there somewhere, wandering through the city with a spectral pack of cigarettes and a dictaphone in her pocket. If she'd be proud of her niece.

He supposes it doesn't matter. He's proud enough for both of them.

Blackwell AU where Lauren dies in 1981 instead of being hospitalized and Rosa starts seeing ghosts at age 5 and Joey has to deal with a preschooler in the middle of his grief

[spacexseven]

can i request more yan!reader w dazai? maybe something about dazai noticing reader getting possessive n how he’d react to it? i’m just OBSESSED with this idea, it makes me all giggly.

we are back in business!!! tag for this au is #yandere reader 🐟

cw yandere reader, yandere character, murder, manipulation, dazai purposefully riles reader up, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, jealousy. very unhealthy relationship dynamics, neither of them are any good

you weren't subtle at all, you know.

or maybe dazai was just too observant—to be honest, he liked the idea of you unable to hide your feels better. knowing he made you feel so strongly, that your usual composition was shattered in an instance the moment someone else catches his attention, made him feel proud.

in the office, your possessiveness reared its head whenever anyone else was paired with him for a mission. you would beg and plead until they were switched out with you, until the president stopped assigning any partner that wasn't you, or just made you tag along anyway. there was that time, he can remember quite fondly, when you purposely sabotaged a mission so that you could prove that you would have been a better fit instead, and you would have thwarted the trouble before it got out of hand. but the real fun happened outside of the office.

once he stepped inside the restaurant, he had noticed at once that they hired a new waitress. again. dazai knew your constant glares was the reason why they kept leaving. but what was he to do? it wasn't his fault everyone just seemed to fall all over him. ah well, he might have encouraged the flirting just a little; an amused look, a coy smile, a soft brushing of fingers—but it didn't mean anything, seriously! he was just playing around. how was he supposed to know you would act so recklessly?

some part of him, as he smirked up at the new person, hoped that you'd finally snap. the cute glaring and the thinly veiled threats were entertaining enough, sure, but how far would you really go, for him? there was that incident with fyodor that neither of you talked about once it was done, but he wanted...more. he wanted to see it again, the freed rage etched into your face, the fluid, nonstop motion of your arm. he wanted to see you promise to kill anyone who hurt him again, except...this time he wanted you to do it for no reason at all except jealousy. god, he was sick, wasn't he?

but you still liked him knowing that, didn't you?

was it jealousy if you never really had him? he whispers something to the girl and she looks away, giggling. he sees your hands clench and unclench, and you stare down at the table.

do something, wouldn't you?

he sees you lift your head and study the waitress closely. but that was all, to his disappointment. no glare, no snarky comments, nothing out of you. what a shame, really. did you think he would hate you if you did something bad? he would only be upset if you just sat there and did nothing.

and then he heard the news. something about a body found, working as a waitress at the time. a familiar photograph was shown and it was found in a very familiar location. he finds himself unconciously staring straight at you, your poor attempt of hiding your smile by drinking from your cup doing nothing to ease the fluttering in his heart. he definitely misread your intentions, took your silence as inaction and your calm exterior as indifference. how wrong he was.

he thinks about congratulating your efforts. or should he pretend to be mad? but you didn't deserve any more torment after what a good job you had done. he didn't want you thinking he was not happy with your work. he was beyond pleased, and he was proud. nobody would have any reason to suspect you, not after how calm you were yesterday. no indication you were hiding murderous rage. maybe he'll put in a note for you that next time, he'd like to be there and witness it. wouldn't you like that?

[anonnie-in-wonderland]

Call Me Crazy…

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning(s): None

Summary: When Y/N gets her hands on the newest Samsung phone, she thinks at most she’ll get a little clout with her friends and fewer dropped calls. A direct portal to BTS? Not so much.

Genre(s): Strangers to Friends to Lovers| Crack Treated Seriously| Fluff| Comedy| Romance| Magical Realism

Tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | poly| FM!POC!reader

Ch.1: In Which a New Phone is Long Overdue

A/N: This idea was inspired by this commercial, which I immediately thought would be a good fic idea the moment I first saw it! Just never assumed I’d be the one writing it, so I guess I played myself…anyway, this fic starts in 2019 and is not “canon compliant” (I think I’m using that right). I personally see this Y/N as a POC due to the girl in the commercial this AU is based off. I think she was really cute haha that being said, you don’t have to imagine the commercial actress ofc. Uh, and Y/N is not really an Army at first, sorry. Just thought it’d be more interesting that way. *PLEASE do not ask about the taglist in this story’s comments*

“I can make it better, I can hold you tighter…”

Y/N breezed right by the girls passionately singing along to the latest BTS hit in the hallway. Classes had just ended and caffeine was calling her name. That test prep was a doozy and really, she should definitely—fish the buzzing phone out of her jacket pocket, apparently. If she could even locate it. Why did she adore multiple pockets so much in her outerwear anyway?

Her fingers seized the small device just before it went to voicemail, and she barely glimpsed at the ID before accepting the call. “Hey, heeey,” Binna sang, her good mood evident, “That physiology test? Nailed it!” Y/N smiled, knowing how much her roommate had been stressing that exam, despite studying nonstop for weeks in advance.

Stopping, Y/N tucked herself into a corner of the corridor, out of the way of her fellow students. The tall arched windows provided an unobstructed view of the campus’ sprawling lawn, and the students congregating on it. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my bestie’s big brain.”

“Try saying that three times fast,” Binna laughed. “How’d your business presentation thingy go?”

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to sound serious, but secretly endeared by Binna. “It’s a supply chain management project. I won’t know how I did until the end of the term, but it’s coming together really well so far.”

“Ohh then are some celebratory drinks at the cafe in order?!”

Y/N dramatically clutched her chest, probably looking like she belonged in the theatre program to the people passing by. “I thought you’d never as—”

“…N?” Binna’s voice began to crackle, fading in and out. “Hel..lo? Y…?”

Gasping indignantly, Y/N took the phone away from her ear to glare at it. “Oh, no you don’t.” Reflexively, she smacked the bottom a few times, momentarily forgetting that would do absolutely nothing for failing reception.

“I’m losing signal!” She hurried to explain, “Text you soon!”

The sound her friend made came across as agreement, more or less, so Y/N hung up with a sigh. Her fingers skimmed the tiny, worn keyboard, prepared to attempt a short confirmation to meet at the cafe.

“Still not ready to give up on that dinosaur?”

Y/N jumped, halfheartedly glaring at the owner of the voice, who didn’t look the least bit apologetic for startling her. Rather, Chung Chin-Mae arched a brow, face blank as he waited for her to respond. “When are you going to cut that out?” She hissed, smoothing a hand down her already wrinkle-free blazer.

“When are you going to give up on that phone?” He returned, taking a delicate sip of his vitamin water. Y/N’s glare became a little harder, lip jutting out in defiance. He knew she hated when someone answered a question with another question. But she let him have it…this time.

“Why would I?” Y/N briefly clutched her phone to her chest defensively, ignoring the way Chin-Mae just shook his head. Returning to trying to get her text through, she added, “There’s nothing wrong with it…”

Her friend looked ready to swing his messenger bag at her—and given that it was always full and on the heavy side, that was bound to leave a bruise. “How many other people do you know still using a flip phone that outdated? It’s not even a touchscreen!”

“But it does the same thing!” Y/N grumbled, mentally crossing her fingers that the text didn’t freeze and delete itself. ‘Please, not while Chin-Mae’s here.’

They stood in awkward silence for over a minute, and she lowered her head, knowing the expression he’d be wearing. “It just does it a little slower…” For all his love of being right, Chung Chin-Mae (affectionately Chinnie to his friends) could have made an excellent lawyer, but his heart belonged to the arts. His interesting taste in strangely patterned button-ups and the streak of deep red dyed in his short, black hair were the only real outward indicators.

“How many years?” he asked.

“Huh?” Y/N distractedly watched her text finally finish sending, a little grin of victory on her lips.

“How many years since you got a new phone?” He clarified.

“Oh, um…eight.”

“Eight? Y/N…girl…” Chin-Mae looked like he was struggling to find the words, absolutely aghast, and she rolled her eyes. Yes, there was that flair for the dramatic she’d expect from a performing arts major.

Checking her math, she nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Leaning into her personal space so that she could smell the freshness of his gum, he whispered, “Repeat after me: I will get an upgrade!”

“Only if it becomes absolutely necessary.” she countered.

“It’s past necessary; you might as well be dragging an entire phone booth around with you.”

“Haha…” Y/N chortled drily. “Anyway, aren’t you a long way from the art studio. Did you come to meet me?”

Huffing, Chin-Mae squared his shoulders, looking thoroughly exasperated. Though his next words confirmed it wasn’t at her. “I came to drop off Yè’s report to him. He’d be flunking that class if it wasn’t for me,”

That made sense, considering how forgetful her upperclassmen could be. Brilliant, but oh so forgetful. “You realize you’re dating now. It’s okay to call him Min Su.”

“Old habits,” Chin-Mae dismissively flapped a hand at her, not sounding too concerned.

‘Poor Min Su.’ she thought. He had been smitten with Chin-Mae practically since their first meeting, when the clumsy transferee had bumped into her friend and caused him to drop a still wet painting while trying to search for the right building.

Needless to say, Chin-Mae had declared war on the guy. He had never been the most forgiving to begin with, and man could he hold a grudge. Y/N winced as she recalled the way he hadn’t spoken to his roommate for just over a month after he ate Chin’s pudding snack.

So the odds certainly were not in Min Su’s favor. Chin-Mae remained icy towards him even after he tried to make it right by lending a hand so he could redo the ruined painting in time to submit to his art showcase by the deadline. She and Binna had watched (and silently rooted for Min Su) from the sidelines for the better part of their freshman and sophomore years. Eventually his kindness and persistence won Chin-Mae over…not that he ever really wanted to say he had caught feelings somewhere along the line. And now, they were finally dating. But Chinnie was only really slightly less reserved with his affections. At least in public.

“Anyway. My boyfriend is hopeless. What else is new?” He asked rhetorically, breaking her from her reminiscence. “Do you need a ride to the cafe or what?”

Y/N thought over the benefits of catching a free ride while her friend was in a gracious mood, or waiting on the shuttle. “I guess I could—”

“If you have to think about it, you don’t know. So let me decide for you…” He pulled out his keys and pushed at her shoulder, ushering her out of the corner and through the lecture hall. “You’re coming with me.”

Well, Y/N shrugged, if Chin-Mae had spoken…

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

“Umm…” Y/N watched Binna bouncing in place, tongue poking out in concentration as she attempted to make up her mind. Luckily, the cafe worker looked more amused than irritated, but then her friend had that effect on people. Something about her quick smiles and the bright eyeshadow she typically wore made her youthful, energetic and approachable, along with the fun hairstyles she loved to wear when she wasn’t in a professional setting.

 She was pure warmth, and destined to become an amazing pediatrician, if Y/N had anything to say about it. “Should I get an iced americano?” She asked no one in particular, “Oh wait, but it’s been forever since I had any boba. That’d hit the spot right now too…”

Normally, the campus cafe was packed, people chugging coffee in anticipation of a long class, or stopping to have a quick bite because they couldn’t be bothered to leave campus or cook for themselves (though it was far from the only choice). It was a welcome surprise not to be standing knee-deep in a line nearly out the door, everyone inside already sitting and enjoying their orders.

That meant at least they wouldn’t get nasty stares for holding up the line. As Binna continued deliberating, Y/N began envisioning the moment she’d take the first blissful sip of her own caffeinated delight. 

Unlike her friends, who often switched up their orders, Y/N preferred what was tried and true: cafè au lait with skim milk and a half a teaspoon of sugar. A small fingertip poked her shoulder. “…do you think?” Y/N blinked, cocking her head as she tried to figure out what she was being asked.

Something about what drink Binna should have, right? “Uh…since you like mixing it up, what about something you’ve never had before?”

Her round eyes instantly brightened, turning to the barista with a confident grin. “Ohh, what’s on your limited edition menu right now?”

The barista shared a proud look with her coworker, who had finished rinsing out mugs and happened to overhear the question. “We’re doing our artist-inspired drinks. This month it’s BTS, since they just released a new album.”

The minute the words were out of the young woman’s mouth, Y/N began silently counting down, only reaching three before Binna let out a loud squeal. She always got that way when she got the opportunity to chat about her k-pop obsession. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!” Eagerly lifting the little mascot attached to her backpack by a keychain, Binna gushed, “You know, I’m actually Army.”

That she was. She had the poster on her side of their room to prove it, and lots of merchandise on her desk and bookshelf. It was practically the only reason Y/N knew anything about BTS (or any other popular groups) to begin with, and her knowledge was less than that of a casual fan.

She could view a photograph or billboard advertisement and recognize she was gazing at the group of superstars who had captivated Binna and half the world. But if asked to pick them out individually and correctly name them…well, hopefully it wouldn’t be a life or death situation, because Y/N didn’t like her odds.

The next few minutes were spent with Binna and the cafe employees talking about the new album, their favorite tracks, leaving Y/N totally lost. While she was glad to see her friend having so much fun, she could really use that caffeine pick-me-up right about now. Maybe tuning into that telepathic link they always joked about having, Binna gasped, her lipgloss even shinier under the cafe’s atmosphere lighting. “Wait, oh no, you haven’t even gotten to order yet, have you? I’m so sorry. I’m terrible, your drink’s on me!”

Y/N smiled gently as her friend began to ramble about how awful she had been to make her wait for the last fifteen minutes, rubbing her shoulder in reassurance. But she wasn’t exactly about to turn down a free drink. Chinnie, who had opted not to tag along seeing as how he had a class coming up soon, was going to be sorry he missed out on being treated.

“I’ll take a…”

Binna interrupted her with a giggle, her cute little nose twitching. “Should I just order for you? I mean, I know what you’re having because it’s always the same thing. Every time. She wants a cafè au lait, skim milk and a half a teaspoon of sugar please.”

Y/N knew her friend’s cheerful declaration wasn’t in any way mean-spirited. It just wasn’t in her nature to be. She honestly couldn’t explain why that rankled her. Was it that deep down, she feared she was overly predictable?

“That’s not true…” she muttered, aiming to prove it. “I can change it up too. I’ll also take something off the limited edition menu…” She had missed what Binna ordered, so she ended with a shrug. “You can surprise me.”

The barista, whose tag read, “Minjun”, nodded eagerly. “You got it. Coming right up!”

Assuming they would wait off to the side, Y/N shuffled down the counter, only to catch Binna staring at her, wide-eyed. Today her eyes were rimmed in a nude eyeshadow, applied with an expert hand as always. “Okay, just say it.”

“You…” Binna glanced around as she moved her hands, “You picked something besides your usual!”

“It’s not that big of a deal…”

“Yes it is. For you, it is. You’re all about schedules and routines and…and sameness.”

Y/N felt her cheeks puffing, and hurried to calm herself. “Look, everyone gets tired of things being the same sometimes. I’m not that dull.” If her voice came out just a little snappish, Binna didn’t remark on it. The speedy service was a small blessing, their drinks being slid down to them as Minjun called out their orders.

Y/N squinted as she read the side of her cup, more specifically the label. Jimin’s Jumping Jubilation.

Binna silently motioned to a table, her eyes nonverbally apologizing in case her comment had upset her, and Y/N took the lead, playfully brushing her on the way over so she knew all was well. “So,” she said after taking a careful sip. “Jimin tastes a whole lot like coconut milk and dehydrated pineapple bits.”

Binna made a funny face, having finished taking a long sip of her Suga n’ Spice. The delayed snort was well worth getting slightly sprayed. Nothing about her friend looking anxious or down suited her. “Y/N!” Binna squealed, slapping at her from across the table. “You can’t just say that in public. People’ll think you read those dirty BTS fanfics.”

“They…have those?” She was well and truly clueless, and maybe it was for the best if it stayed that way. “You know what? Never mind.” Neither of them really seemed to mind the change of conversation, settling into their seats comfortably and watching the world go by outside. “Are you still going to the rugby game this weekend? Min Su and Chin invited me, but I’d feel like a third wheel on their date if you didn’t come.”

Binna’s cute manicured nails rapidly tapped both sides of her cup. “Oooh you know I’ll be there to keep you from third-wheeling.” she winked. “Plus, it’s KU’s biggest rival, right? That means Yonsei University boys.” Y/N cracked a grin as she watched Binna fan herself, pretending to swoon. “I thought you swore off boys at least until after finals.”

“I did!” She nodded expressively. “But there’s no harm in looking.”

“I guess there’s tha—”

“Eek, a bee! How’d it get in here?!” Her friend’s screech turned several heads, Binna trying to hop up from her side of the table and flailing just a bit to keep the buzzing insect at bay simultaneously. Y/N watched her arm strike the side of her mostly filled cup, the liquid splashing in slow motion…right over the ancient flip phone lying innocently on the table.

Realizing what she’d done, Binna stared down in horror. “Oops! Y/N I am soooo sorry! I swear I’m too klutzy to live, and you know I’ll make this right and get you a new one. You can have any color, just—”

“Bin,” Y/N held up a palm. “Breathe.”

Perhaps recognizing she had withheld a breath or two in the middle of her rambling, her friend took a deep inhale.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Though Y/N had a sinking feeling it would do very little good, she still attempted to dry off the phone with some napkins, able to see her reflection in the dark screen. “It was just…its time to go, I guess.”

Slowly lowering herself back into her chair, Binna stared down at the deceased cellular device, an errant giggle escaping. “Well now that you have to get a new phone, at least Chinnie won’t have a reason to keep bugging you about it?” she offered, looking entirely too cute to be mad at.

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

Y/N cringed at her wet pant leg as she climbed from the passenger side of Chin-Mae’s car. If she’d known the day would end in rain, she would have worn rain boots, as much as they clashed with her business casual attire. It was a small miracle that she at least had an umbrella in her bag. Her friends huddled under and shared Binna’s, which featured a vaguely familiar pink bunny with a rather aggressively cocked eyebrow.

The bell above the door chimed as the trio shuffled into the phone store, which was nice and toasty to combat any would be draft from the rain. No one else was inside, only the quiet hum of the heat going filling the space. “Where do you think we should start looking?”

 There were so many shiny models on display in different spots on the shop floor it was hard to know where to focus. No sooner had Binna asked than a Samsung employee popped up from the back room, a few boxes carefully balanced in his arms. 

Glancing their way, the young man, who couldn’t be much older than them, gave a polite customer service smile. Y/N waited patiently as she set down the boxes on the counter near checkout then beelined straight to them, his name tag gleaming under the store lights.

“Uh-oh, someone needs a new phone, huh?” He sighed sympathetically.

“How’d you know?” Chin-Mae asked, hands tucked into his pockets. He was wearing Min Su’s favorite hoodie, which enveloped him quite well given the difference in their builds. Y/N found herself irrationally jealous, wishing briefly she had a boyfriend to steal warm, snuggly clothes from.

“I just thought it’s the most likely reason you’d come out in such nasty weather.” he explained. “This is the kind rainy evening that makes you want to get cozy somewhere.”

He wasn’t wrong, Y/N thought. What an intuitive salesman.

“It’s me,” she said, stepping forward and raising her hand. “I’m the one that needs the new phone.”

He hummed with a tilt of his head. “Ah, anything in mind?”

“Anything would be an improvement from that ugly old dinosaur she thought it was okay to keep for eight years.” Chin-Mae groaned. “It finally bit the dust today.”

“Actually, it was murdered.” Y/N corrected.

“I’m sorry!” Binna wailed, hiding her face guiltily.

“I certainly have to agree it was time for an upgrade.” The clerk whistled. “Eight years is quite a long time.” He began to walk, motioning for the group to follow as he looked over his shoulder. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything similar to what would’ve been on the market back then, even in our used phone selection, but I’ll do my best to find a suitable replacement for your baby.”

“Something simple that gets the job done.” Y/N piped up. “That’s all I need.”

“Please, tell her she doesn’t have to live like this!” Binna whined, clasping her hands together. “She can have style, high-tech features and efficiency.”

Exasperated, Y/N turned to glare at her friend. “Bin, I—”

“She’s right,” the salesman said, “I can get you all that. If you’re interested, of course.”

“She is.” Chin-Mae cut her off before she could so much as open her mouth. His grip on her shoulders was tight, almost like a warning…

Knowing that her friends weren’t about to relent, Y/N decided to cooperate and get it over with. She’d rip it off, like a bandage.

“I am.” She agreed, less than enthusiastically.

All three of them perked up, and Y/N had a feeling she was in for a long evening.

The clerk showed them various types of phones, rattling off their features with ease and even explaining how to navigate the touch screens. Y/N personally didn’t think she was that hopeless, but kept her mouth shut and let him finish each demonstration. Binna and Chin-Mae chimed in more than once, mentioning how impressed they were with this model or that and ushering her toward their personal picks.

Y/N wasn’t quite sure any of the ones they saw were right for her. ‘What happened to simple?’ she wondered. That concept had long since gone out the window it seemed.

“And this is the last one I have to show you.” The employee, who had told them to call him Suk-kyu, rounded yet another display. This one featured a line of phones in various colors, as sleek and fancy as all the rest. What caught Y/N’s attention was the flip design. Finally! An ode to the phones of yesteryear. “It’s the Galaxy Z!” Suk-kyu gushed, plucking one of the phones on the table from its resting place and carefully placing it in Y/N’s hands. “It’s got that old school design you like, but this baby is all new and cutting edge. Ask me what it does. It does it all!”

The man loved his job, that was for sure. It was either that or he got paid off commissions, because he was certainly making the hard sell. Suk-kyu let her see everything the phone could do. And true to his word, that was quite a lot. His eyes twinkled expectantly as Y/N deliberated over the seven colors it came in. “I think we have a winner!” he cheered, “Who’s your bias? That’s probably the best color to go with if you’re having trouble deciding.”

Y/N blinked, a pink phone in one hand and a purple phone in the other. “Who’s my…what?”

“Oh,” Binna chuckled, “There’s no need in bothering with that Suk-kyu. Y/N wouldn’t be interested in all that.”

“Interested in what?” Said girl asked quietly, beginning to feel like she was missing a vital piece of the conversation. The piece that made it make sense.

“Ah,” Suk-kyu rubbed his arm sheepishly. “I guess not everyone is. I just thought maybe you chose to get one of these phones because you’re a BTS fan. Most of the people who bought them have been. Actually we barely keep them in stock for long. This is the first time we’ve had all seven colors available since release day.”

“What’s with everyone and BTS today? What’s that got to do with the pho—”

Chin-Mae tapped her shoulder, pointing to direct her attention to one of the monitors mounted over their heads. Y/N gaped as she saw the famous boy band using the very same model of phone she was about to purchase in a commercial.

‘Of course,’ Y/N could have rolled her eyes. What product didn’t they endorse? ‘Okay, I guess it’s impressive from a business standpoint. I’ll give them that. It’s every company’s dream to find a brand ambassador with the golden touch that’ll keep the product flying off the shelves.’ As an aspiring businesswoman currently taking courses in product marketing and distribution, Y/N couldn’t deny they were something else.

“Uh…you know what? I think I’ll take this one after all.” She announced, ignoring Binna and Suk-kyu’s twin gasps of joy. “Just to try it out. If it’s good enough for BTS, I’m sure it’s good enough for a plain old business major like me.”

Seconds later, they watched the grown man skip to the back to retrieve the color she selected.

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

Rubbing a knuckle over her eye, Y/N yawned, staring blearily at the time displayed on her new phone. Huh, almost midnight. Didn’t feel like it was that late…but then it might explain the heaviness of her eyes.

Binna was already tucked into bed and snoring quietly on the other side of the room, leaving Y/N up by herself, toying with the cellphone she hadn’t expected to become so invested in.

Hoisting herself off her mattress, the tired university student stretched, hearing the satisfying pop in her back as she crept toward the bathroom, phone loosely clutched in hand. She’d brush her teeth and then go to bed. 

Tomorrow was a rare day off for her, so she had plenty of time to play with explore the phone’s features at her leisure. And, of course, get a leg up on her next assignment.

 Y/N had always treated school like she intended to treat the business world, and no one survived in business unless they could always stay five steps ahead of everyone else.

Y/N shuffled completely into the girls’ shared bathroom, shutting the door almost all the way before she flipped on the light, hoping the tiny sliver didn’t disturb Binna.

Thinking it over, she scoffed at the notion. Yeah right, that girl slept like the dead. Someone could scream about a fire in the building and she’d just roll over.

Taking her electric toothbrush from the charger, Y/N rummaged under the sink, locating the small bag that contained her toiletries and squirting a little toothpaste on the brush’s head. She put the setting on a slow pace, always wanting to be sure she got every nook and crevice. 

Running the brush everywhere inside her mouth, slow and methodical, Y/N hummed to a song she didn’t really remember. That helped her keep track of how long she needed to brush, even if the toothbrush had an automatic counter. 

She had used a manual one for so many years, to do her own mental counting was simply force of habit. And she was nothing if not a creature of habit, according to most people who knew her. But, was that really such a bad thing? She never used to think so, but recently it felt like another way to call her bland.

Leaning down into the sink, Y/N spit, turning on the tap and gargling away the rest of the minty foam in her mouth. Satisfied, she spit again, splashing the cool water on her face and setting her toothbrush down. Patting her skin dry with a small towel, the young woman took a small sigh, raising her face to the mirror and expecting to see her tired reflection staring back.

Except for the fact that the person in the mirror did not have the right features to be her reflection. Hell, they didn’t even have the right gender! 

Y/N’s eyes popped wide open, sleepiness dissolving in an instant at the equally shocked face of the man who was gazing back at her. His distractingly full lips were rimmed in white toothpaste, as if he had just finished brushing his own teeth. Light brown, almost tangerine-tinted hair hung messily into his dark eyes, which had enlarged to what had to be triple their normal size.

 And his skin… it probably wasn’t the best time to be noticing, what with her clearly hallucinating and all, but he had to have the tightest pores. They were nonexistent, really. His skin was smooth and blemish free. There wasn’t much more of him she could see, save for the black t-shirt that hung from his impossibly wide shoulders, filling the rest of the space in the mirror. 

It looked like he sucked in a breath at the same time she did, and Y/N finally stumbled back, unsure why she was seeing what she was. Blinking, she smacked both palms over her eyes and then opened them again, finding everything as it should be. The handsome man was gone, and she was alone with her reflection. All was right with the world.

Shaking her head, Y/N scurried from the bathroom and flipped off the light, trying not to drop her phone in the dark. Sleep. She needed sleep, and lots of it.

[honeyabyss]

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"

[charnelhouse]

Turning Point

Chapter One of i’ve flown too close to the sun

Rating: 18+, Explicit Pairing: Din Djarin x F! Reader Wordcount: +4K Summary: I thought Mandalorians didn’t do revenge. Warnings: Pre-Episode 1, attempted sexual assault (nothing severe), smut, dirty talk, very very protective Din Djarin A/N: This is the first part in a continuous series. It’s porn in space. It’s porn with feelings. It’s Mando and another fucked up bounty hunter discovering each other while also trying to take care of Grogu. This takes place before episode 1 and will continue after the series.  Next Chapter

The rain on your lips tastes like blaster smoke - like platinum and metallic gas. You hate this planet - this industrial hell hole locked away on the Outer Rim. There is street food - tepid, sharp odors that make you dizzy. Barbecued creatures on hot grills. Bruised fruit the color of blood and viscera. Sour tuberous vegetables.

You lean against an alley wall - study the bright graffiti designs - old mockeries of the newly dead empire. Yellowed light flickers from the looming faces of lamp posts. Creatures with red eyes glare at you from shadowy heaps of garbage.

You’d rather be back on the Razor Crest. You’d rather not be here period.

You’re tired. Six bounties down within the span of a single week and your limbs have gone to jelly. There hasn’t been a full night’s sleep because you’re always too jittery after a hunt and Mando - well - Mando likes to get his jitters out in other ways.

The place between your legs aches - thigh muscles twitching. The skin below your waist is chafed and sticky. There's a bite mark on your collarbone. Sleep for you just isn't in the cards.

The door across the way is flanked by two enormous guards. From inside comes the pulsing sound of stomping feet - cheering and groaning and nonstop fucking noise. You touch the handle of your blaster - stroke its firm, metal skin.

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly - the spark of cold Beskar rubbing up against your shoulder. “I know it’s been a lot. You're tired. You can go back.”

His words unnerve you. Mando doesn’t really do gentle or show concern.

Concern for how wet you get - concern about whether you climax more than once when he’s inside you - but when it comes to doing your job - maiming and earning credits - he just trusts you to be good and ready. You’d broken a thousand different faces beneath your fist - stabbed and shot and killed with a precision that had impressed Mando in the first place.

It’s why you work well together. It's why you work together at all.

“I’m fine,” you reply before you drop your voice to a teasing drawl. “But I thought Mandalorians didn’t do revenge.”

Mando has his needs - and his bounties - and someone had incidentally pissed him off, which is why they were on this shit planet and about to go into a gladiatorial pit with guns blazing. You have no idea who the unlucky guy is, but Mando had been adamant about showing up here and finishing something that he hadn’t even explained to you in full.

It doesn’t matter. It never does. You go where the credits are or where Mando wants you to go because in truth you were never a leader to begin with - just point me in a direction and I’ll destroy or violently injure who you want me to.

“It’s not revenge,” he mutters - irritated. “There’s a bounty in there.”

“Sure, Mando." You can feel his gaze on your face - can feel it burn.

You’ve gotten disturbingly adept at sensing him - his shifts of mood, the weight of his stare - even deciphering his tone through the strong barrier of the modulator.

You don’t know what he looks like. You only know what you can feel - your hands palming his brow in the dark - the full plush of his lips between your legs - and the tickle of facial hair. He’s big and broad and tight with muscle and he knows exactly how to fuck you.

The rest is extra if he chooses to give it.

His gloved hand lightly squeezes your hip with a deliberate innuendo: after after after...i’ll give it to you after this job and you won’t be able to move for a week.

Maker - he’s a sex maniac and you blame it on years of him being confined to his helmet and his Beskar and his rigid code. You’re pretty certain you’re the first person he’s allowed to touch him in the pitch black with nothing between you. Maybe because you’re like him - maybe because you’re a lonely little orphan that had been bred into taking blood - maybe because you give excellent head.

You do know that he’s definitely fucked before - no one is that damn good on their first try and when you brought it up, he scoffed at the implication that he was a virgin.

“There have been others,” he grunts - hot hands palming your bare thighs, rolling a nipple between calloused fingers, biting into your neck from behind.

“Others?” you whine - prickled for some strange reason. “Did they have tentacles?”

He slaps your ass - grabbing a handful of flesh and jostling it until you arch. You kick out at his shin in sheer defiance. He likes a fight.

“It wasn’t like this,” he growls - pressing his lips to the naked, sensitive skin of your shoulder. “It was always clothed. I didn't take the helmet-

“I bet I was the prettiest,” you interrupt - your fingers tangling with his and holding them flat to your stomach. You don’t know why you say it. Jealousy. Possessiveness. You’ve never had anyone for yourself and he isn’t yours - he’s not - but you like him in a way that stings.

He makes a soft mouth sound - the great, stiff wall of his body freezing up as he spoons you. For a moment - you think you’ve fucked up. You’ve shown your hand - your cards in a flush.

Mando can be cruel at times - his anger a very living, frantic thing that he has difficulty controlling. It’s not at you - never at you - but you’ve seen it. He has issues - a whole fucking ship full, but who doesn’t?

Most of the time, he's quiet and stoic - like a shifting shadow who barely gives you much of anything unless he’s here in the dark - curled around you, and the both of you are blanketed by the sweep of the night - under the vast weight of stars that burn through the observation shield. You don’t even remember how this started, but you do know that the Mandalorian does not do fluff - does not do sweet - or warm - or feelings point-blank.

He still won’t say anything and his chest is very hot - his heart beating low and slow against your spine.

Your mouth goes dry. “I didn’t - “

He clings to you - his tongue sweet against your jaw and when he speaks it’s like being splashed with cold, clear water. The ache in his voice real - unmodulated - sincere .“You’re the prettiest of any of them. Not even a competition.”

Oh

He pinches your waist. “Get your head on straight.”

He brings you back to yourself. Domineering Mando - drenched in that unyielding grit that means he’s slipped his cover into murder-mode.

Well...it’s not murder? Not really. Is it? Whatever.

“Let’s go, pretty.”

***

If Mando’s helmet could read sheepish - it’s doing it right now.

You’re unnerved - stunned - and a little furious.

“That wasn’t a mark,” you gasp. There’s a bruise forming along your ribs - you definitely pulled a muscle running back to the ship. “That - that - what the fuck was that?”

Mando’s hands are up - fingers spread wide. There’s an arc of blood splatter across the front of his breastplate - even the face of his helmet. He starts to speak before rethinking it. Just mumbling - searching for a reason that will make any sense at all because this is sort of fucked...kind of.

Finally - his shoulders fall - his hands, too - deflating all at once before breathing out, “He hurt you.”

To the point. Concise.

Something deflates inside you, as well. Your heart pumps - your belly pulling tight as you find yourself losing your footing. You collapse onto his thin cot - the springs grinding and sparking beneath your ass.

“Mando,” You peer up at him and he’s just staring - and you hate the weight of it. “Mando - it wasn’t a big deal. He...well yeah he kind of choked me out, but we got out of there.”

“Your throat was bruised for a week.”

“I get bruised all the time.”

He moves toward you - quick-footed and agile. He doesn’t touch you - but he does tower over you and when he speaks, his words are stiff - as if he may just choke on them. “You know he made it personal - the things he said - how he spoke to you as he - as he fucking tried to kill you in front of me. I couldn’t just let that go.”

You don’t know how to respond to that.

It had been a mission on Maldo Kreis where they had tracked a bail jumper to one of the planet's isolated bars. They hadn’t realized that the mark would have a gang of allies - that he was wealthy and able to pay for security. On top of that, you hated the cold - it made your joints ache and your eyesight go blurry. Your ears ringing with pain from the howling wind. You were off your game and Mando had been in one of his moods where he just didn’t speak - preferring to stalk behind you with all the air of an imposing mountain of steel.

Shit had gone bad right from the jump and you had ended up underneath said bail jumper while Mando was held down by six or so of his henchmen. His nails had bitten into the flesh beneath your jaw - his hold so constricting that you couldn’t get a breath in. You remember the way black dots danced across the bar’s frost-laden ceiling. Your blaster had been at your foot - your blades out of reach and the whole damn time you kept thinking about how fucking embarrassing it was that you were going to get your ass killed by a nobleman’s spoiled criminal son and then he started talking:

“She’s a pretty thing, Mandalorian....really fucking pretty...I think I’d enjoy her...” His lips - slippery and smelling of spice - slid up your cheek - his hips grinding against you and fuck this was literally mortifying and you almost wished for death because to have this happen in front of Mando of all people was just...not good. Your eyes had rolled back and there had been perfect blackness - warm and sweet and rocking you into...

“I think my men would enjoy her too...we’ll let you watch...let the whole bar -

The weight had vanished and you didn’t know what had happened after that. You came to with Mando carrying you back to the ship before you passed out again. The next time you woke up, Mando was brushing cream over your throat, and in the corner of your vision - you could see his fingers shaking.

You couldn’t speak for a few days afterward. Mando had kept to the cockpit - the silence killing you slowly until you had wandered up there and apologized for screwing up the mission so spectacularly and how you had been too distracted and how that normally doesn’t happen and fuck I’m really sorry -

And he had whirled on you - charging forward - and you thought briefly that he was going to slam you into the sliding door of the cockpit but when he reached you his hands were gentle.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he had countered - earnest and authoritative - throat thick with something. “Now - go downstairs and chart the next course.”

And you had believed that was the end of it. He didn’t even seem terribly pissed off. Never mentioned it again.

Now - he’s staring down at you with that same guy’s blood drying on his armor.

“I thought you killed him then,” you remark - striving for casual. “Back at that bar. I just figured. All the blood.”

Mando drops down next to you. It’s strangely inelegant - the least graceful he’s ever been - as If all of his bones have just gone to gel. 

“I tried. I killed most of them. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt further so didn’t chase after him when he ran off.”

“Until now?”

“Yeah. Until now.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Couple months.”

You nod slowly. He reaches for your hand - the buttery leather curling around your fingers. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “If - if that wasn’t my place. I was just - just so fucking angry. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said - what he did.” He leans into you. "I wanted him fucking dead.”

You swallow sluggishly. You're shaky - your hand is trembling in his and you try to square your feet - try to anchor yourself down because it’s like he’s cut you open - left you raw and red and vulnerable.

“And then you had come to me fucking apologizing like it had been your fault and maker that just - that -“

He breaks off - stammering - and it makes you feel restless - too big for your skin. This isn’t like him, at all.

“My safety isn’t your responsibility, Mando,” you reply - soft and uncertain. You have no idea how this happened - how this conversation has turned to this and how distraught he’s acting because yes they are fucking and they are partners to a certain extent but it’s not like he owed you anything. It was the nature of the job and he just went and risked his life to get revenge for you. He didn't even take the body back for the credits. 

“I know that,” he shrugs. “I don’t care.”

"Oh," you reply. What do you even say to that?

He shifts next to you - the cot squeaking beneath him. "Are you okay?"

You bite down on your tongue - savoring the rush of pain before you get up the nerve to answer. 

“No one has ever done something like that for me,” you croak - something itches at the back of your throat. Pricks of sharp pain. “I just - I didn’t even think about it - what he said. I’ve been threatened countless times. My whole life has been kind of filled with shit like that. I don’t know I just - I just forgot about it - buried it I guess.”

He turns toward you and when he reaches for your face, you let him. He cradles your jaw - thumb brushing over your lips. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

The sentence sits heavy in the air - soothing you in a strange, delirious way just like it did when he told it to you on Maldo Kreis months ago. The only difference is that Mando sounds wrecked - sad. He drags you against him and it should be uncomfortable - sharp, solid, and freezing - but it isn’t - not at all. “That will never happen again. I-I promise you that it won’t. I swear.”

It sounds like he means it - like he will use everything in his arsenal to protect you. His arm around you is heavy - notching you against him and your cheek is scraping across his shoulder and you can just make out the tanned skin of his throat - the dark, coarse hair along his jawline.

“You can’t promise me that.” You run your nail over the exposed patch of flesh between helmet and cape. He shudders. “Not in our line of work...but...I do appreciate the sentiment.”

There’s an awkward silence except for the dim buzz of the ship’s electrical panels, the creak of metal, along with the jarring vibrations as it slips through space.

Something had changed. Something significant and you weren’t sure how to define it or how things would go from here. You let him hold you - let his forearm dig into your ribs as you listen to him breathe slow and consistent. He smells like blood - the metallic tang of it swept up with sweat and sand and dust.

Mando makes a sudden, desperate sound in his throat and he tugs you closer to him. One hand travels between your legs - grabbing you crudely - making you jump - and of course, of course - this is how it will go. Both of you are too overwhelmed with the fact that you’ve shared something - that Mando has revealed that he cares - a lot. It’s going to be sex now - dirty, rough-fucking - to make up for the blush of those confessions.

Over the thin material of your pants, his thumb presses to your clit - pushes downward.

"Fuck," you whimper as you clutch his armored forearm.

“I want your cunt,” he snarls and it’s made even wicked due to the cool tang of his modulator. Here - right now - he’s building those walls back up and that’s okay because you really don’t know how to handle any of this and emotions are really fucking dumb.

You wind your arms around his neck and let him shift you into his lap.

“Take it then,” you challenge, which makes him squeeze you harder.

He’s already undoing your pants - hooking his fingers through the opening and then inside you - one then two then a third - scissoring and stretching and the wet noises your pussy makes would be obscenely embarrassing but Mando is growling into your hair about how fucking gorgeous you are and how fucking soaked you get and how hard you make him all the damn time and when he pulls his fingers away he raises his helmet - just barely - so you can see a blur of pink and brown before he’s sucking your gloss into his mouth and humming with loud satisfaction.

“Gonna fuck you,” he husks as he pulls you up off the bed to help with the rest of your clothes.

And something drops in your belly - something unstable claws its way into your chest and you find yourself reaching for him like some needy, love-struck teenager and not thinking at all before you ask, “Can we have the lights off? I - I want to kiss you during it.”

He pauses. You can practically feel the sharp way he’s looking at you - the tight line that would be his lips pressed together with uncertainty. He’s never denied you kissing - the two of you can and have made out for hours when the room is pitch black and you have the time to spare.

But - asking for it - now - after what he just did for you? It’s new territory and kind of pathetic on your end. Kissing is intimate - it’s the closest you can really get to him and the secret that is his face. You’re pretty sure he had just wanted to shove his dick inside you and make you come on it - maybe from behind - maybe with your knees crushed into the floor.

He doesn't refuse you though. Surprising.

He palms your cheek - rubbing his slick fingers over your bottom lip. The taste of salt - of you and his own spit. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we can do that.”

***

He kisses you for a long damn time. It feels closer in the dark - the smell of him like something musky and sweet. He nudges his nose against yours - whispers words of praise - tracing your lips with his tongue before slipping it inside to rub and stroke and savor.

It’s more than sex. It’s way more and how did this happen?

You think of how he looked when he was hacking his way through the gladiatorial pit - how he had killed that piece of shit with the stroke of a knife. Not a blaster - a fucking knife because he wanted to feel it and right before he slashed - he had twisted the guy’s head to look at you and whispered something unintelligible and then a spray of blood.

It had been gorgeous. 

You reach for him - hand wrapping around his thick cock that juts up against his stomach. It’s silkier than the rest of him - veined and familiar as your thumb grazes up over the head. You stroke him - feel it lurch and swell in the circle of your palm as his hips rut against the side of your thigh. Your other hand threads through the curling hair at the nape of his neck and when you squeeze - he shivers - a hiss punched out from the bottom of his lungs.

“You ready for me?” he mutters as he kisses your chin - your jaw - the curve of your breast. His fingers part your sex - spread it open and rub the bare, pink flesh where your nerves sit raw like an exposed wire. He continues until you’re shaking with it - until the hull echoes with the slick, liquid sounds of his hand playing your cunt like he's made for it.

“Obviously,” you whine as he dips a finger inside just to tease.

“You’re a brat,” he accuses - gruff, but still amused. “Such a fucking desperate thing for me. Pretty and soft and so damn wet.”

You moan - breasts crushed up into the powerful, muscular planes of his chest - the ridges of his abdomen. He’s built to kill - to fight and win and he still can take you apart with a talent that is simply not fair. He’s deliberate in his fucking - focused and aggressive - as if he were taking down a bounty.

He moves between your legs - pulling a nipple between his teeth as you feel him line himself up. Your mouth falls open when he pushes inside you - the blunt head of his cock catching at your entrance. He bumps his forehead against yours - his nose near-buried into the plump of your cheek. It hurts - not terribly - but it aches like he’s splitting you in two as your body works to accommodate him.

“That’s a good girl,” he sighs when you clamp down on him - when you wind your legs around his hips, allowing him to start to thrust slow and steady. “Can you? Can you hold onto me?”

There are things he likes - things he needs because he’s so huge - so much steel and secret grief interlaced between his bones. He likes when you’re rough with him - when you touch him like you’re dying.

You dig your nails into his shoulder and press down hard enough to make him groan. You feel the way his muscles roll and clench beneath your hands - each cant of his hips sending you scraping up the thin, shitty mattress. There’s something stabbing into your spine, but you can’t care - don’t care - not when he’s buried in you to the hilt and grinding up against your clit in a way that sends pleasure skyrocketing through your nerve endings.

He takes your wrists - flipping his grip to push them into the pillow above your head. He keeps fucking you with purpose - drawing himself out to the tip before sliding every inch back inside you. It’s a delicious pace - a dance of sorts - and every fucking movement is to give you a spark - to make you burn quick and hot like a matchstick and when he bends you nearly in half - forcing your legs into your chest - you convulse - bear down on him with the onslaught of your climax.

He keeps going - his knees anchored to the mattress as he finds different angles to ruin you. He rambles into your ear - you’re so tight - you’re sweet, little cunt feels so good - i fucking can’t, I can’t handle it - you’re the only thing I think about -and your eyes fly open, your arms wrapped around his back as you let him continue crooning in your ear.

You’re the only thing I think about.

It makes your gut twist - your walls constrict around him and your skin is so hot under his - damp and uncomfortable and too much - but he’s all around you and holding you down and spearing you on his cock and rasping against you as deep as he can go and he just told you that you’re all he thinks about and you come again - brilliantly, a flood of pink light bursting across your vision and it’s almost like when you nearly died - like when you couldn’t get a breath in and that cantina's frozen ceiling turned speckled with black dots like dust motes.

A little death - just the same.

You drag him closer to you - cross your heels over his ass - red sparks still flooding your field of vision. You clench around him - tightening in a vice and he chokes into your ear - his hips slapping against yours before the rhythm turns sloppy and his whole body shudders as he tries to hold himself up on his forearms. You stroke his face - carding your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair and he turns quickly to press his lips to your palm - to kiss you sweetly while he’s balls deep inside your cunt as his thrusts become short, frantic bursts.

“C’mon, baby,” you soothe. “Come for me. I want you, too.”

“Fuck,” He grips your hip - bruising and rough.

“Please,” you beg - sob wrapped up into the whine. “Please.”

He comes like that. He grunts into your shoulder and his body goes stiff. You spread your legs wide around him so he can shove himself as far as possible - his cock spitting hot, thick streams of his spend. You can feel it and you know when you stand that it’ll slide down your thighs - over the hump of your knee and Mando will watch - will try and press it back up into you because he’s just that kind of filthy when he wants to be.

He collapses next to you - automatically hauling your body against him so he can tuck you under his arm. He presses his face to your cheek and in the stillness - in the quiet after the proverbial fuck storm - you try to decipher his features - the sharp jut of his nose, the full lips, the flutter of long lashes.

He’s probably stupidly good-looking just like he’s stupidly perfect at sex.

You might be too though because he’s still coming down from it.

He’s panting - spreading a trembling hand across your belly. His tongue sounds thick in his mouth and his skin is coated in sweat. Absolutely coated. Your pussy hurts - like a lot - and you’ll probably tell him later just so he can be smug about it. He’s not used to compliments - even the indecent ones.

He slots his leg between your calves - fully wrapping himself around you so you can barely move.

‘I can’t get up,” you huff - pinching his forearm - tugging at the dark hair.

He brushes his lips over your shoulder. “Good.���

“But what if I need to.”

“You don’t need to.”

You sigh - fidgeting and wiggling before he reinforces his grip. “Let’s just lie here for a little bit.”

You’re the only thing I think about.

Your lip quirks. You bite down on it. “Okay,” you reply as he pulls you closer.

***

Next Chapter

[teacupcollector]

A Fathers Guilty Conscience (Sherlock x Daughter Reader)

Summary- You and your father Sherlock have never been on good terms. He wanted you to thrive in academics while you wished to bless paper with your ideas and art. When one day an argument goes to far Sherlock must sit and face the consequences 

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, blood, mugging mentioned, knife mentioned

Main Masterlist Angst Prompt List Fluff Prompt List Requested: 20, 21, 29  from the Angst Prompt List

You quit. You have finally given up. You have tried so hard all your life to live up to his great name but you can’t do it anymore. From the time you were four you were expected to do great things that your father did, Like read at a 5th grade reading level or memorize the quadratic formula but you weren’t like that. You enjoyed finger painting, play dough, and tea parties. This  fact often irked your father which in result left you living with your grandparents for most of your life. To say that would rather stay with your father would be a lie. At least with your grandparents they encouraged your creativity but now here you are. You are now living with your father in 221 B Baker Street and never have you felt so miserable. 

Right now you were sitting on the floor leaning against the couch trying to figure out how many protons are in Sodium-Chloride. It wasn’t the first time you have cried over an assignment and it probably wouldn’t be the last. You were breathing heavy and your vision is blurred the grip around your pencil was causing it to bend slightly and it one final attempt to do the assignment and eras your mistake it tears the paper. In an act of anger you lift up the assignment along with your assigned book and throw it across the room with a vicious cry leaving your mouth. Right as this happened your father the oh mighty, great Sherlock walks through the main entryway of the apartment. “Now what is it this time (Y/N).” It was more of a statement then a question and the way he said your name didn’t sound happy either. Like it ever has been anyway. “I am just so tired...” You whimper. Sherlock scoffs at this and continues his way to the kitchen. You decide to follow him in there. “Um... Dad?” You ask. He does little to acknowledge you which was normal but you decide to continue talking. “I was wondering if I could maybe take a mental health day?” This causes him to pause for a moment. “Why would you need to?” He asks and this stuns you. “B-Because I am really stressed and I was thinking I could relax instead of going to school tomorrow.” You says as you play with your fingers. “I could gather myself so I can work properly?” “No.” He says and you are immediately upset. “Why not?” You ask with a firmness in your tone. “Because you don’t need it!” He says his voice just as stern as he turns to you. “Can’t you see that my mental health is suffering!” You shout and storm up to him. “You are being dramatic! Stop this nonsense!” Sherlock says looking down at you. “There are case studies that says that ongoing stress could lead to exhaustion, burn out, or even suicide.” Sherlock only shrugs and turns away. 

You let out a cry of frustration before shouting. “Honestly would you care if I died!” “No!” This makes you gasp. “Honestly I am sick and tired of your complaining all the time!” Sherlock exclaims. “Ever since your mother left it has been constant and nonstop and I am growing sick of it!” He says and storms into the landing and up to your room. You end up following him and as you get to your room you see him rummaging on your desk and taking out your sketchbook. “You and this rubbish isn’t going to take you anywhere if you take “mental health days” You need to grow up.” You can tell that he has been wanting to say this for a long time now by how his chest is heaving up and down. “Dad give that here!” You say holding out your hand and reaching for it but he pulls it away and rushes past you going down the stairs. “Dad give it back!” You see him walk up to the lit fireplace as he begins to tear out sketches and drawings and throw them in. ”Dad stop it!” You cry as you reach for it. “Your mother was stupid to leave you with me!” “Obviously she was because you are nothing but heartless! Now please give it back!” You shout but he just tosses the whole thing in. You rush and get the fire poker and try to the best of your ability to pull it out.

“I hate you!” You shout as tears stream down your face. “I wish you weren’t my dad! I hate you!” Sherlock just lets out a mixture of a groan and  a snarl. “I was never meant to raise a child! It would have been easier if your deadbeat of a mother took you! It would have been better if you weren’t born at all!” He says and you cry in silence before speaking up. “Honestly? Me too...” You saying this shocks Sherlock. “It would have made it a hell of a lot easier for everybody if I wasn’t here.” You say. You get up slowly leaving your sketch book to burn. You spare your father no glance as you speed walk past him, down the stairs, and out the door. Sherlock is stunned. He may not be the best at deciphering human emotion but he knew it definitely wasn’t normal to wish you yourself wasn’t born. He decided that it would be best if he were to give you some space before going after you. He decided to go to your room and see if he could understand what was going on. Obviously he wasn’t helping but he was wondering what about school was stressing you out. Sherlock went up to your room and looked around. He noticed the array of papers that feel from your desk when he grabbed your sketch book. He bent down to pick them up when he noticed what was written on them. He noticed that it was your report card. You had really good grades in all of your classes. He looked at the second piece of paper which had times on them. Looking closely he can see that they are tutoring times that seem nonstop as it travels down the page. He places them on your desk before looking at your open laptop. He walks over only to see notification upon notification of emails sent between tutors, teachers, and peers alike . He scrolls and looks at the dates to see that this goes back a couple years. He then sees one that seemed to be addressed to your guidance councilor. Just as he is about to click on it his phone pings. He gets his phone out to see a text with a link attached. “Someone is using your card -M.H”  As he clicks on the link he sees that it was indeed his card and that someone purchased alcohol and cigarettes. He was confused because he was sure he left it in his wallet. He goes down stairs and looks for his wallet only to see that it has come up empty. “(Y/N) took my card.” -S.H

“Pickpocketing Lestrade was never a good idea. She gets it from you.” -M.H Sherlock begins to think. ‘You would never never buy those things. 1. you were to young. 2. You have always shown distaste to them always commenting how bad it smelled whenever he smoked.’ He begins to pace the length of his living  room until he came to an obvious yet very upsetting conclusion. You were mugged. “(Y/N)’s in danger. I am phoning Lestrade.” -S.H Sherlock is immediately down the stairs wrapping his scarf while dialing Lestrades number. He nearly knocks John over as he gets to the mudroom area of the apartment. “Bloody hell Sherlock. What is it?” Just as John says that Sherlock says into the phone. “Lestrade I need to make a missing persons report.” This sets John on edge immediately. “Where is (Y/N)?” John says and Sherlock waves his hand and goes out onto the street with John tailing him. “Thank you” Sherlock says into the phone before turning to John. “(Y/n) took my card and left.” Sherlock says as his eyes scan the area. “Well she should be back shouldn’t she?” Sherlock waves his hand. “Sherlock I know you both don’t get along but maybe show so-” “Shut up John! I’m thinking!” He says and begins to think again. “I spent 3 minutes in the living room after she left, it takes me 42 seconds to get up the stairs to her room then I spent an additional 4 minutes and 52 seconds looking, went back down stairs in 38 seconds and looked for my wallet for a minute and a half” He begins to paces on the street as he thinks ‘texted Mycroft for 12, 9, and 14 seconds, Walked down the stairs and ran into John took a minute, now we are paused out here for 2 minutes and 35 seconds”  “12 minutes and 22 seconds.” “What?” John asks. “(Y/N) is 12 minutes and 22 seconds ahead but she may have been delayed because of the mugging.” He says. “Mugging!” John shouts. “Yes John now you go that way...” He points to the left down the street. “And I go this way. We need to hurry!” Just as Sherlock finishes that sentence a sleek black car rolls up. Mycroft’s head pops out the window. “Where has she gone to now brother mine?” He asks and Sherlock sighs. “We will speak later we need to find her now!” He says and takes off down the street. Soon the streets are filled with patrol cars thanks to Lestrade and Sherlock is out of breath from all the running. The sun is now going down over the city of London but Sherlock is determined to find you. Sherlock is rushing past an Alley way near the west end of the city when he hears a gurgling sound followed by a whimper. Sherlock’s head snaps in that direction  When he looks into the dark alley way he can see a pair of (F/C) sneakers. He gasps and rushes into the alleyway and behind the trash can and there you are. 

You are in a small pool of your own blood barely breathing it seemed. (Y/N)!” He cries as he gets down on his knees and lifts you off your stomach and cradles your head. “D-Dad?” He hears you whimper. “I’m here (Y/N)! I’m here!” He looks over your body to see three stab wound along your torso. There is a trail of blood slipping from your mouth as you begin to speak. “I fell forward daddy... I didn’t mean to.” You rasp. “I-It’s okay what matters is that I’m here now!” He says and reaches for his phone and calls Mycroft. As he gives the details on where you are your eyes begin to slip closed. “ No, NO Keep those eyes open!” He shouts as he smacks your face a little. He feels a burning in his chest as he looks at you. His eyes begin to water as he applies pressure to as much of the wound as he can. You cry out in pain and grip his arm. “You need to keep your eyes open for me okay. You try to say something but it only comes out as a small choking/gurgling sound. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is the ringing in his ears. All he can do is try to keep you awake. Suddenly he is brought out of all the white noise by a hand on his shoulder. “Sherlock you need to move!” John says as he pulls him away but Sherlock fights. “No John! I need to stay with her!” He calls out trying to reach for you. He can see as paramedics pick you up in a stretcher and wheel you into an ambulance. Sherlock breaks free of Johns hold only to see you being driven away with a police escort per Mycroft’s request. John and Mycroft rush over to him. “I-It’s my fault... It’s all my fault.” The burning in his chest has yet to go away as his vision continues to blur with tears. All he can do now is go to the hospital and just sit. For the first time in his life he seems to feel the strong emotion of sadness. All he can do is blame himself

[darkbeautyanime]

The glass bottle thumped onto the floor as Denki started to spin it. The majority of class 1A sat in a circle, attempting to play spin the bottle.

“Why do we have to play a game that was made for middle schoolers?” Bakugo puffed, clearly angry that he was included in the childish game.

You rolled your eyes. Everyone was used to him being an ass, especially since the whole class 1A was moved into the dorms, but you’d only recently been swapped into the class for Mineta and weren’t down for getting screamed at a thousand times a day.

You’d bit your tongue for the whole day, attempting to be nice to the fiery blonde, but you were over his attitude. “If you don’t want to play, then get out. Everyone else is too nice to say anything but i’m not.”

Garnet eyes snapped into your direction. How could you have just said that to him? Everyone is supposed to be afraid of him.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” Bewilderness laced his tone, but his eyebrows narrowed into a death glare.

You matched his features, nostrils flaring and you scoffed. “You heard me, hot hands. Get the fuck out if you don’t want to play.”

Deku was the first to try and lighten the mood. Having to always be the one with no confrontation. “Hey Kacchan, y/n, it’s okay. Let’s just play.”

Sero smirked. Cellophane was entirely focused on his career. Hero work and studies filled his brain at a nonstop rate, but as he saw you argue with Bakugo in such a passionate way, he could tell there was so much more to you than what meets the eye. Ever since you came into the class, you were a mystery and just as hot headed as the blonde, which peaked the tape hero’s interest.

Mina and Denki nodded along. It did upset you how much everyone played to Bakugo’s game of attempting to be scary. He was all bark and no bite and you want to prove it.

“I’ll go first. Since it was my idea and all.” Mina chimed over the whole ordeal, seemingly to have on effect on her.

Her small pink hand clasped around the bottle and gave it a gentle slap. It tottered around in a few uneven circles before landing onto Kirishima.

Her pink skin tone began to flash a hot pink, the blush creeped onto her neck and face, spreading all the way to her ears. Mina had been your bestfriend through the past couple weeks of adjusting and she had shared her feels on the crush.

No one was for sure how Kirishima felt. He seemed nice to everyone, how would anyone know the difference? But when Mina began to crawl over to the crimson haired male, he smiled before placing their lips together. And even holding it too long to just be for a stupid game.

Kirishima smiled giddily. “That was surprising.”Was his response before taking his own turn.

The bottle didn’t quit turn into a circle as much as it ran away, running into your legs and staying trained onto Mina, who sat beside you cris crossed.

Mina gave you a huge grin, the plan had worked. She knew Kirishima couldn’t resist her now, knowing how soft her lips were and how good she smelled. They shared another kiss before Mina sat back into her spot.

“Y/n, you take my turn!” The powder pink female spoke beside you.

You gladly accepted her offer. Placing the bottle back into the middle, where it originally was and gave it a small nudge into the spinning of a circle. It gently stopped onto the mullet man himself. Sero. Mina knew you didn’t particular have a crush on anyone in the class, but still, she would have paired you with him.

Sero had confessed how much of a puzzle it was to try and understand you. He wanted to either do something about you running through his mind or totally forget about you. He thought this was the universe sending him a sign.

You crossed the small circle dragging your knees across the hard wood floor to meet the dark eyes of Sero. He was clearly high, but when wasn’t he? He admired how you managed to be so sexy without even trying.

“Why hello.” He looked down at you, engulfed into your eyes. They wrinkled trying to understand what he was thinking. You gave him a small giggle of nervousness before placing your lips onto his.

It was a foreign feeling but it was nice. What was even better was the smell of his cologne mixing with the exotic and thick smell of weed sticking in an invisible atmosphere around him.

It wasn’t a very steamy kiss but it was only a peck. When you pulled away, you could tell something in his eyes changed.

But you didn’t let it bother you, as you went back to your spot, seemingly unaffected by the stare of a certain black headed male in your direction for the rest of the game.

Sero told Deku to take his turn. Making it seem like he didn’t want a friend to be left out, but in reality he didn’t want to think about kissing anyone but you. He’d never thought about anything more than a platonic friendship with you. So he decided that not taking a chance would be best but a nice gesture brought treachery to the whole group of friends.

Deku’s turn was an unfortunate mistake, leaving his new kissing partner to be the one and only hot headed Kacchan.

After mumbling curse words and making everyone’s life hell Bakugo agreed. And a few pleading sentences to have the ability to live from Deku, they both kissed. You smirked seeing the same reaction that came from Sero happen to Deku.

It was something that changed the air for all four of you.

It was too bad that midnight had came so fast, because the game was over. Something in your heart made you frown at the thought. Was it the fact that you wanted to kiss Sero again? or that you wanted your bestfriend to hit it off with the insanely sweet and pure future hero? The world may never know, because you hated change.

Even more than that, you hated getting close to someone and letting your guard down. You were perfectly fine with how everything had been unraveling.

You retired to your dorm, kissing Mina’s cheek goodnight, expecting to see her in a few hours anyways when she planned to climb into bed with you. It had become a custom of nights when she couldn’t sleep or had nightmares, she would sneak into your bed and cuddle until she feel asleep.

You’d just pulled off your pajamas; leaving you in only your bra and panties. A few minutes later, the lamp was turned off and you had gotten comfortable under the abys of blankets when you heard a small knock come to your door.

A groan escaped your lips. Why couldn’t Mina just sneak in like usual? Maybe she forgot something?

It was pitch black, which lead you to the decision of turning the lamp back on and heading to the door. “What is it Mina? You could have just came in like usual.”

Embarrassing. That is all you could form in your brain. This was the most mortifying moment of your entire life.

Sero stood leaned up against the door frame, shocked eyes full of surprise. The iris’s kept looking you over, head to toe, over and over again.

As your mind finally realized what was happening, you slammed the door in his face. It was a race to find a long t-shirt to throw on that at least covered most of your body.

You were sure when you were to open the door, Sero would have been gone but to your astonishment he was still standing in the same spot, only a shadow of a smirk on his lips.

“Uh.. I thought you were Mina. What’s up?” The awkwardness and shame was thick in your voice.

Sero thought it was adorable how your cheeks had powdered with a blush, but damn he could keep that imagine burned into his mind for the rest of his life. “I wanted to talk, but I didn’t know you had already gone to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

His lanky build turned away from you, bringing your eyes to his black jeans hugging his hips and his round ass.

“Sero.” The name rolled off your tongue before you could understand why you didn’t just let him walk away. His eyes burned into yours, wondering what else you had to say. “Come in. I’m already awake.”

He smiled a giddy grin before walking into your messy room. Clothes, papers and shoes polished the carpet, making him admire how you seemed to be so put together but your bedroom obviously showed you weren’t.

“I think it’s pretty cool that you bite back at Bakugo when he starts his bitch fits.” His voice trailed, like he didn’t get to the part he wanted.

“He’s a dick and I hate how he thinks he is better than the rest of us.” Honesty leaking in your words, practically screaming in the undertones.

Sero chuckled. “I also thought it was cool of you to kiss me.”

“Cool?” You questioned, clearly confused.

“You didn’t have to but you did anyways.” He answered taking a few steps across the room, watching for objects lying in the way.

You smirked. You knew exactly what he was doing, he wanted to make it seem like it had been your choice, not his. “Whose to say that I didn’t need the game to suggest I needed to kiss you?”

“Then why haven’t you?“ Sero interrogated, moving even closer to you. His breath fumed over your face and down your neck.

You knew he wanted you to give in first, to show that he had a hold onto you. “I don’t want to get close to you or I’ll break you.”

“We don’t have to be close to fuck.” Sero dipped his mouth to your ear, caressing the shell, while running his tongue over the cartilage. “I won’t fall if you won’t.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the lust take over and making them darken even more. Your lips found his ear, kissing behind it, before dragging your tongue down his neck, slowly.

“Fine, have it your way.” You breathlessly responded before kissing his lips.

————————————————————————

@darkbeautyanime this is my original work and shouldn’t be used by anyone other than me!

[revui]

That post u recently reblogged as Skyler made me 👀 Who's that? 👀👀👀👀👀👀 What is the human > God > Beast pipeline?

oh boy do i have a fucking tale

alright, so y'know how i've mentioned a couple times that human things like books will leak through into the foreverlands? yeah, some other human things can pass through as well, like fruit, clothes, or... humans.

Skyler Hilton is a completely normal human being with zero magical capabilities. He's also genderfluid (he/she/they interchangeably) but for the sake of clarity I'll try to stick to one set of pronouns. Before he wound up in the Foreverlands, he was already fairly unusual. His expression was usually frozen into a smile, his manner of speech was stilted and sometimes incoherent, and he held very little care for nearly everyone with the exception of his twin, Miranda.

Miranda is also a human, obviously, but she (unlike Skyler) does have magical capabilities. And one day, when the two were 15, a portal opened up with the intention of dragging Miranda from Earth to the Foreverlands, failing to account for the possibility of an immensely protective twin that would immediately cling onto Miranda in an attempt to stop her from being taken.

Portals are very finicky, very rare, and very poorly understood, even by those who make them. But the long and short of it is, Miranda was dumped in the location she was supposed to end up in, and Skyler was stranded in a completely different part of the world. And he Did Not Like That One Fucking Bit, so he immediately started tearing shit up in search of answers and, more importantly, Miranda.

Problem: the area Skyler was sent to was very close to this lovely building that some may call the Thistle stronghold. What's Thistle? An assassin's guild, of course! Run by a woman called the Rose. So when two assassins posted outside the stronghold get jumped by a pissed off teenager who's very strangely good at fighting, the Rose orders them to take him alive. Because the Rose sees this strange feral human and thinks, "This is a weapon." And boy was she right.

With the help of a good old-fashioned memory curse, Skyler is turned into a clean slate that the Rose can use however she wants, and she decides to make him into a killing machine. He's presently one of the highest-ranked assassins in the guild, working directly under the Rose (something very few have done, ever, regardless of rank) with zero recollection of his life aside from the fact that his first name is Skyler, which he only knows because the Rose told him post-curse. He has zero memories of Miranda but still retains that undying loyalty and protective nature, which he now projects onto the Rose instead. Even for an assassin's guild, Skyler is pretty damn scary, especially to the other members. Nobody but the Rose knows where he's from, nobody knows why he's so dedicated to her, and nobody knows what the hell is wrong with him. He's a living, breathing cryptid, and he has several knives.

This is his God era, because he really does seem like an immortal, untouchable being. Nobody knows what the hell he is, so all they have is wild speculation, and nobody would ever guess "human" because the idea that a human could be here, survive here for two years, and actively overpower sorcerers would all be way too preposterous to be real. But it is real. He's a human.

Miranda has no idea where he is, and she's spent the past two years looking for him, almost nonstop. She started studying Divination at Wildwood in the hopes that it would help, and it has not.

Eventually, the curse will break, although it's not a clean or easy solution. In the Foreverlands, breaking a curse is like breaking a fever—you still have germs in you. So piecing together all his memories is arduous and he'll struggle with short-term memory for the rest of his life, which surprisingly doesn't seem to bother him that much. And this is his wild beast era!

I say that because it's soon after the point where the curse breaks that he and several other characters end up on Earth, temporarily, having been portalled to rural Illinois. For reasons. And Skyler just goes absolutely batshit nutstown, rediscovering this entire world that he lost, exploring the wooded areas with nothing short of absolute elation. He eats without silverware, he refuses to sleep indoors, and there is one point where he gets so overtaken by his Creature Brain that he randomly leaves to sprint through the woods, without slowing down once, for four fucking hours. He's having a blast. Wild beast era.

[angellesword]

SAVE ME | KTH (01)

summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death.

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

genre & content warnings: demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au, suicide attempt

pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

word count: 950

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | FINAL CHAPTER (15)

You had a terrible habit of cutting your hair short whenever shit happens, and for you shit happens actually meant you were sad.

Just like back in third grade, you cut your tailbone length hair until your armpit because Lee Hyun, your classmate, refused to be your drawing partner.

You would never forget the scowl on his face and how hard he closed his sketchpad as he said "I don't want to be your partner! You're ugly!" To you. Eight year-old you cried on your way home that day.

You also remembered your mom asking if you were okay, but you were too heartbroken to answer so you just went inside your room and then you slammed the door shut and locked.

You were still weeping when your hands shakily grabbed the black scissors in the drawer. You couldn't even breathe as you cut your hair like crazy.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" You heard your mother knocked on your bedroom door, yet you refused to answer. All that's on your mind was to cut and cut and cut.

"Baby, open the door for mommy please." The swivet in your mother’s voice reached your ears, but you dismissed the idea of letting her in.

‘I needed to cut my hair.’ This was the only thought inside your silly little head.

"Oh, God! What are you doing!?" Your mom was hysterical when she finally found the key to your room.

Your mother was crying too. She snatched the scissors away from your hand and you thought, like you really, really thought that your mother would stab you with it, but she just engulfed you into a tight warm hug and suddenly, you found yourself encircling your tiny hands around her waist as you told her about this stupid boy who broke your heart at the age of nine.

The second time you cut your hair was during fifth grade. The black scissors were vigorously cutting your midback length hair until your neck when your mother barged in your room. She’s quick enough to snatch the enemy from your shaky hands. She didn't say anything because as usual, the only thing she could do was to embrace your frail body.

"Park Ji-hyo is playing Alice!"

"Oh, sweetie..." Your mother sighed as you proceeded to tell the older how unfair the world was. Your classmate named Ji-hyo was going to play the lead role in your school's stage play while you were chosen to just portray cat, Alice's sidekick.

Tragic.

The third time you felt the need to cut your hair was when you failed to pass the entrance exam at Cornelia University, one of the best schools for medicine in your country. You were so heartbroken that day, your feet were frozen on the floor, but your hands were already grabbing the black scissors inside the drawer.

You were cutting your hair again. You cut your waist length hair until your neck and that was your mom's breaking point.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" She still held you in her arms and you still told her how painful it was to study nonstop only to fail.

You felt better whenever you told your mother the things that were bothering you. Your mom was always there when you needed her the most. She never failed to snatch the black scissors away from your treacherous hands before you turned bald. Admittedly, your mom was the one who fixed all of your problems.

Back in third grade, your mother gave candies to Lee Hyun just to make him want to draw with you. She also bribed the head of the stage play so her spoiled kid could play Alice. She then paid Cornelia University a ridiculous amount of money just so you could pursue your dream to be a doctor.

Your mother was the best, but every good thing had an equivalent bad thing. When you moved at the university's dorm, you instantly realized how dependent you were to your mother.

Shit always happened at Medical school. When shit happened, you cut your hair. This time, however, your mother was not around to snatch the scissors away from your hands. You cut your hair from time to time. Med school's really the worst that you graduated with a pixie cut.

Now that you’re already a doctor, shit still happened and your mom's too dead to save you from cutting your hair.

Today, You were holding the black scissor again, but it's not for its usual purpose. The last time you butchered your hair was when your mother died. It's been two years now and the length of your hair at this very moment was until your shoulder blades.

You didn't have any plan to cut it now. The only thing you were cutting with these scissors was your life.

You did not want to live anymore.

"W-Wish you were here, eomma." You bit your bottom lip as you stared at your sad face in the mirror. You pointed the scissors in your neck—aiming at the carotid artery.

You inhaled deeply as tears continued to wet your cheeks.

Just as you’re about to stab yourself, a stranger appeared right behind you.

The stranger snatched the scissors away from you just like what your mother used to do. But this person wasn’t like your mother. In fact, he didn't look like a human at all.

"Who are you!?" You flinched; your eyes grew big because of fear and confusion.

The stranger smirked. His golden eyes sparkled as his tail wagged.

"Me?" The corner of the intruder's mouth turned up. His reflection in the mirror made your heart skip a beat.

"I'm the devil and I'm here to save you."

MASTERLIST

[jombocostello]

Lost in Translation (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: Hey! Would you mind writing a little Polnareff fic where the reader tried to learn French pick up lines to finally drop some hints, but messes up/forgets a word and gets embarrassed? 🥺

Now this is just too sweet. I changed the request up a little bit, I hope you don’t mind!! (Also if you spot any mistakes with the French, please let me know!! I’m not sure how much my high school education of French prepared me for writing Polnareff fanfiction lmao)

-----

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

You jump, tearing your eyes from the book you're scouring. You look at Joseph, who's sitting a few feet away from you on his hotel bed. He frowns. "It's three in the morning. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I... Well..." You laugh nervously, attempting to discreetly slide the book under your pillow as you search for the right words. "Yeah. I probably should be."

Joseph stands up and turns on the lamp that sits between you two, and you wince when the light hits your eyes. "But seriously, what have you been doing?" he asks again as he sits back down. "I've been trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you muttering nonstop over there."

You can feel yourself start to blush, and you fix your eyes on the fascinating corner of the door behind Joseph. "Ah... I was just reading out loud. It helps me take it in better, y'know?" It's not a very good lie, and though you're not looking at Joseph, you know he's not buying it. "Half of enjoying a good book is visualization, isn't it?" You're audibly anxious.

"Fine. But what exactly are you reading?" You start to sweat; he's ruthless in his interrogation.

"Uh, it's... I mean you're probably not interested in it." Joseph's patience suddenly runs thin, and he leaps up and snatches the book out of your hand. "What the hell?" you shout, forgetting about the thin hotel walls and attempting rather aggressively to grab the book back.

Joseph, thanks to his powerful Joestar genes, is easily able to hold you off. "Hmm, what is... English-to-French dictionary...?" He looks up at you, confused, and you freeze. He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm failing to see what's so embarrassing about this. You want to learn a new language? More power to you - " Mid-sentence, he seems to come to a revelation, and you wince. You had almost made it out alive.

"...You're learning this for Polnareff, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" you mumble, gluing your eyes to the floor. "Yes."

You can hear him horribly containing his laughter. "You've - you've got dedication, I'll give you that!" Little giggles are starting to escape him, and as he suddenly begins to howl with laughter, you try again to grab the paperback out of his hands.

Without breaking a sweat, he shoves you back onto your bed and starts leafing through the book. "Oh my God," Joseph wheezes, wiping a tear away with one hand and holding the book close to his face with the other. "I mean I knew you had feelings for the guy, but I had no idea you loved him like this!" The word 'love' hits you viscerally and you cover your face with your hands, trying to push down your unbearable embarrassment. "Oh God, that's so cute."

"Shut up!" you hiss, finally managing to wrestle the book back from Joseph. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you spit with as much rudeness as you can muster.

"You don't have to explain a thing, my friend," Joseph replies without missing a beat. "I can read you like a book right now."

"Oh my God," you groan, turning away and looking down at the bed. Your face is on fire, and you gingerly set the book down next to your pillow and you fold your arms on your lap. "Just... Fine. You got me, okay?"

"I guess I did get you! I really didn't mean to." Joseph's laughter seems to have finally ended, and he watches as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry for laughing, (Y/N). I'm not trying to make fun of you, I promise - it's just so ridiculous that you're going to all these lengths to win Polnareff over when I'm sure it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Shouldn't be that... What do you mean?" You momentarily put aside your anger when you hear Joseph's words.

"Isn't it obvious? You two are perfect for each other. I'm positive that Polnareff shares your feelings."

"That's funny," you respond, huffing out a little laugh. "He's always flirting with girls, isn't he? I know you've seen him do it."

Joseph rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. That's just the way he is. He can be a bit...familiar with the young women he meets, but I'm fully convinced that you're the person he has his eyes on." Before you can interject with another rebuttal, Joseph speaks again. "Don't argue with me on this. I've been alive far longer than you and I've seen lots of people fall in love in this lovely world!"

You don't want to admit it, but Joseph's actually giving you some confidence here. "You, well... You might be right." Joseph grins. "I'm still gonna try to figure out some of this stupid language, though. I think he'll be happy to hear it - I mean, he's been away from home for a long time." You swing your legs up onto the bed and cross them, grabbing the book and flipping it open as you do.

Joseph marvels at the sheer concentration in your eyes as you force your way through the paperback dictionary. He can't believe how in love you are; it's honestly making him a little teary-eyed. "Well, goodnight," he says as he climbs back under the covers. "Want me to leave the light on?"

"If that's okay, yeah." Joseph nods and lays his head down on his pillow. As he shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he listens to you faintly mutter to yourself, "Je t'aime. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

The next day comes quickly, and unfortunately you haven't really slept enough to prepare for it. You'd stayed up all night after your little encounter with Joseph, so you're left with about an hour and a half of sleep to get through the day. You and Joseph quickly get ready, and you go to meet the rest of the group in the lobby.

You yawn loudly as you step out of the elevator, and Joseph takes a second to laugh at you before following. You elbow him in the arm as you walk up to Jotaro, Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff. Kakyoin's still resting up in the hospital; you all miss him dearly.

"Good morning!" Avdol calls, watching as you shuffle into the little group. "Did you two sleep well?"

You simply shake your head, and Joseph laughs a little at your severe expression. "(Y/N) stayed up all night reading," he explains, but after you shoot a look his way he shuts his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Polnareff asks brightly, raising his eyebrows. You look up at him and feel your heart start pounding; if he asks what you were reading you think you might drop dead on the spot. "Didn't take you for the reading type."

You nearly laugh at that, looking incredulously up at Polnareff. "What the hell does that mean - are you calling me dumb?"

"No!" he says hastily, eyes wide. "I mean - maybe." You both start laughing now, and Joseph leaves to return the hotel keys and check out. "In all seriousness," Polnareff starts with a little smile on his face, "I just didn't think you could sit still long enough to enjoy a novel. You seem like a more active person, I guess."

You honestly can't - your little French study sessions have been nothing short of torture. Still, you just shrug. "Everyone enjoys a good story, don't they?"

"Yeah." Polnareff turns to Jotaro and Avdol, who have been chatting to each other. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asks, leaning against the wall behind him.

"Well..." Avdol thinks to himself for a moment. "We're a few hours away from Cairo. I think we should stay here for a while longer and then start heading there at around midday - so we can arrive under the cover of night."

"You're a good strategist, Avdol," you comment. "I would've just had us all drive into the city and parade around to find a hotel."

Avdol huffs out a laugh. "As much as I'd like to do that, our lives are in danger. We'll have to be really careful once we get to Cairo. I'm sure Dio has eyes everywhere."

"Yeah." You turn to Jotaro, who's been silent so far. Iggy's on the ground next to him, looking as pissed off as a dog possibly can. "How did you sleep last night?"

He just shrugs. "Same old. It was nice having the room to myself, save for this little asshole." He jabs his thumb in Iggy's direction, and you snort. "But yeah, it was fine. I just wanna get this over with. I've been..." He glances down at his shoes. "I've been thinking about my mom."

You'd almost forgotten about the original reason Joseph and his grandson set out on this mission. You had heard from the Foundation a few days ago that Holly Kujo's condition was only worsening. "You're gonna see her soon, huh? When we get to Cairo we'll practically be in Dio's backyard."

Jotaro nods. "Yep. Can't wait to beat the shit out of him."

You grin and nod vigorously. "I'm with you there."

Joseph returns to your little group, and the five of you all huddle together. "So," he starts, taking a deep breath. "Are you thinking we should wait, Avdol?"

"Yes. I was just saying that we should give it a few hours before we get on the road."

Joseph seems satisfied with that answer. "Perfect. So until then... I guess we can do a bit of sightseeing! We should pair up and try to stay at least a little close by. I'll stick with Avdol, and Jotaro - would you mind going with Iggy? If anything happens, both of your stands would be more than capable of taking care of things." Jotaro rolls his eyes and hums in agreement. "Okay. That leaves you two."

The sheer glee in Joseph's shit-eating grin as he looks at you and Polnareff honestly astounds you. Polnareff doesn't seem to notice, and he looks down at you. "Well this'll be fun! I haven't gotten to spend much time with you in the past couple days, (Y/N)." There's a pure affection in Polnareff's voice as he speaks to you, and you feel yourself fall even deeper in love. "We'll see you guys here in three hours, alright?" Joseph nods, waving goodbye with a sickly sweet smile, and Polnareff takes your hand and drags you through the revolving door.

The sun feels great on your skin. You follow Polnareff out, looking at your hand clasped in his as he leads you down the street a ways. He makes you feel so, so happy, and you're overcome by the desire to tell him that. "Where are you going?" you call, laughing a little when you realize you've been following him without having a clue where he's taking you.

He halts suddenly, and you run right into his back. "Oh, shit! Sorry." He spins around and rights you, peering down at your face. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"N-no." You wince and feel your nose, which had rammed right into one of his shoulder blades. "I'm all good." After a thumbs-up for confirmation, Polnareff is satisfied. "So we're here?"

"Yep!" Polnareff gestures to the shop you're standing in front of. It's a café by the looks of it, and it seems pretty nice. "We passed it while we were driving in yesterday."

"Oh, cool!" Polnareff heads inside and you follow him. At the counter, Polnareff orders a couple pastries and two espressos for both of you. Once he gets his order, he hands you your espresso and walks out the door. He's really intent on getting the most out of these few hours of respite, it seems.

"Now that we have some food," he says, gesturing to the little bag of desserts, "we can have a picnic!" He starts walking briskly down the street, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

"Did you spot this on the way in too?" you ask. He nods. "Damn, I missed so much. I was sleeping." He laughs, and you join in. After a few more minutes, you reach your destination.

It's a little park that overlooks a small, tranquil pond. "Oh, this is neat!" you say. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah." You look up at Polnareff as he gazes out at the scenery. You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time; he's usually being pestered by Iggy or attacked by some enemy stand user. You're really grateful that you get to share a calm, sweet moment with him before you have to head out to battle in Cairo.

You decide to take a seat on the grass a few feet away from the pond. Polnareff sits down beside you and carefully sets his espresso down on the grass, making sure it doesn't spill, and you do the same. You cross your legs as Polnareff reaches into the bag and pulls out a pastry.

"For you," he says, bowing his head as he hands you a croissant.

You laugh as you take it from him. "I'm honored," you reply, dipping your head in mock gratitude to Polnareff. He smirks a little and takes out a croissant for himself, leaning back and taking a big bite. You try yours, and it tastes amazing. "You're got a good eye," you tell Polnareff, your voice a little muffled as you eat. "This is really good."

"Well it's only natural that I would have an eye for cuisine," he replies with a smug grin. You reach over and slug him in the arm, and he lets out a startled laugh when you hit him. "Hey! It's true." You sigh and turn towards the pond, watching the little ripples in the water as the breeze gently brushes over it. Polnareff's still laughing a little beside you, and the whole scene suddenly feels completely and utterly romantic. You realize with a start that this is the perfect moment to try out your newly acquired language skills!

You pick up your espresso and take a sip; it's just as good as the food had been. Tentatively, you look over at Polnareff and find him staring out at the pond. "C'est un bon café," you say as nonchalantly as you can.

Polnareff nods and smiles faintly. "Oui, je suis d'accord," he replies, but the second the words leave his mouth he whips his head around, staring at you with wide eyes. "What did - did you just - was that French?" he sputters, starting to grin like an idiot.

You return the smile, nodding. "Oui. I'm glad you could understand me."

"Glad I could - God, (Y/N), you're so - " Polnareff suddenly reaches out and wraps you in a huge hug, knocking the wind from you as he practically pulls you into his lap.

"H-hey!" you yelp, laughing loudly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He sighs, placing his hand at the base of your neck, and you feel a shiver run through you. After a moment, he pulls away and beams at you.

"I didn't know you knew French!" he says brightly; he looks ecstatic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it until a few days ago," you tell him with a little smile. "I've been picking it up little by little. I still barely know anything."

"You've been...learning it?" he asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah! I found a little dictionary at a shop about a week ago, and that's actually what I stayed up all last night reading. Can't say that I'm grasping it very well, but I'm giving it a shot just for you!" The smile drops from your face a bit when you notice that Polnareff's expression has grown somber.

"(Y/N)..." Your eyes widen when you notice tears welling up in Polnareff's eyes. "You've been such a good friend to me. You're always there to make me smile, and well, you've saved my life a few times too. But this, I - you don't know what it means to me."

You reach out and take his hands in yours, a little clumsily. "You're the one who makes me smile. You're my best friend." You're suddenly made acutely aware of the butterflies in your stomach, and you suck in a deep breath. It feels like it's now or never. "Polnareff, there's something I want to tell you." He blinks the tears from his eyes, and you hold his hands a little tighter. "I really - "

Before you can finish, you're punched in the jaw by an impossibly powerful fist. You fly back, landing hard in the grass a few feet away. As you stumble to your feet, swearing and clutching your face, you summon your stand. It fucking figures there's a stand user here. Sometimes you wonder if you're some sort of stand magnet.

Polnareff frantically pulls himself up and dashes over to you. "(Y/N)!" he shouts, holding you by the shoulders and looking at your jaw. "Shit, are you alright?!"

You wince when Polnareff ghosts his fingers over the spot. "Probably not," you mutter, breathing in sharply through your nose. Polnareff freezes, and you shrug his other hand off of you. "We've gotta beat this guy, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Polnareff summons Silver Chariot and stands against your back, scanning the area for the stand or its user. You do the same, trying to push the pain out of your mind. "There!" Polnareff suddenly shouts, and you twist your head around.

It's a man; he's standing on the other side of the pond. He stalks up to the two of you, and as he walks, his stand slowly materializes behind him. It's extremely threatening, with a build that could rival Star Platinum and deep-set, bright red eyes. You force yourself to approach him and Polnareff follows you. Your stand is an archer, suited for long-range battle, and Polnareff's works better at a closer range, so you're usually able to cover each other's blind spots. Your stand pulls out an arrow and nocks it, aiming for the head of your enemy. "(Y/N), right?" he calls, a lax smirk on his face. "And Jean Pierre Polnareff." He and his stand take another step forward, and you tense. Polnareff's Silver Chariot is ready to strike at any moment. "Easy, easy!" he says, raising his hands on either side of his head. "I'm a fair man. Allow me to explain my stand to you."

You glance at Polnareff, and after a moment of hesitation he nods his head. Your stand lowers its bow while Silver Chariot points its rapier to the ground. The man slowly and surely approaches the two of you, and his stand waits beside him. "Thank you. Truce for now?" You grit your teeth and will yourself to nod. "I'm glad. Well, my stand is the Seven of Swords. Essentially, it's extremely powerful. I doubt you'll be able to get a single hit in, if I'm being honest." You can feel rage bubbling up inside you, and as hard as you try to fight it, you just can't kick the feeling. Your gaze flits to Polnareff; he looks just as angry as you.

Grimacing, you look back to the user. "My stand specializes in strength. Every punch it deals leaves a lasting effect - as I'm sure you've noticed, (Y/N)."

You want to scream. The smug look he's wearing and the searing pain in your face is all too much, and before he can continue, you have your stand quickly nock an arrow and fire. You hit him in his right shoulder - he had punched you with that arm - and he falls back, grasping at the wound. "Shit!" he shouts, leaning against his giant stand. With its left arm, Seven of Swords reaches out and yanks the arrow from its user's body.

You start to grin; it looks like you've knocked this guy down a notch. However, just when Polnareff moves to strike and you ready another arrow, he and his stand vanish. "What the hell?" Polnareff mutters, scanning the area. "Where could they have - "

"(Y/N), I'm disappointed!" You scream when the stand wraps its left arm around your neck, squeezing painfully but just lightly enough to let you remain conscious. The man leans in far too close and speaks. "You broke our truce. I suppose I can't be too angry... I wasn't exactly being completely truthful either." The stand's grip on you tightens, and you choke out a cough. Polnareff goes to slice through the arm around your neck, but before you even know what's happened, you're on the other side of the pond. Polnareff, now a great distance away, gapes at you before running over as quickly as he can.

"My Seven of Swords is a master of teleportation," the man announces. "Everything else is just a plus." His stand abruptly releases you, and as you gasp for air, the man grins. "I'm surprised by how easy it was to take care of you, (Y/N). Lord Dio had made you sound a lot tougher." You try to swear at him, but your voice is hoarse and barely understandable.

"(Y/N)!" You turn your head when Polnareff cries your name, and suddenly you're punched hard in the abdomen. You're knocked to the ground and your head smacks into the dirt, and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is Polnareff's face, equal parts anguished and enraged.

-----

The first thing you note when you fade back into consciousness is a strong pain in your midsection. You groan, forcing your eyes open; looks like you were rescued. You're in your hotel room, and it seems like you're alone. You glance over at the window, gritting your teeth as you shift your aching neck, and you nearly laugh out loud when you see that stupid little dictionary sitting on your bed.

You hear the door open, and you turn to find Polnareff stepping through the doorway. "Hey," you say, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

He looks down at the sound of your voice and grins. "Glad to have you back," he replies softly. "I'm so relieved that you're alright." He carefully sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course I'm alright." You crack a smile. "I wasn't gonna let that asshole kill me."

Polnareff laughs a little and nods. "Yeah, he was a real piece of shit. After he - after he knocked you out, I held him off for a little while until reinforcements arrived in the forms of Star Platinum and The Fool. The three of us had him crying like a baby."

"Thank God," you sigh. "He deserved it." You both fall into a little silence, neither of you quite sure of what to say. You remember exactly what you had been about to tell Polnareff when you were attacked, but you can't muster up the courage to try again now. "Even if it got fucked up at the end, thank you for the lovely afternoon," you finally say. "I really enjoyed our little picnic."

"So did I." Polnareff starts to speak more, but something catches his eye. You watch as he reaches over you and grabs something; it's the French dictionary. He peers down at it and starts flipping through the pages. Almost instantly he looks completely affronted, and you feel a laugh rise in your chest.

"What is it?" you ask him as he scoffs, shutting the book definitively and setting it back down.

"They made that thing so difficult to understand! It's so much simpler than that makes it out to be, really!" He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with the publication, and you let a little laughter escape. "How about this." He leans in towards you. "Instead of learning out of that stupid book, I can teach you! It'll be a lot more fun."

He's just so...charming. He's always so sincere, especially with you, and the pure kindness in his eyes as he speaks nearly takes your breath away. "That - that would be fun," you reply, too taken with him to think of anything else to say.

He grins. "Good. We can have your first lesson right now."

You laugh at that, making Polnareff jump a bit. "Already? What, am I gonna get homework too?"

He joins in on your laughter and shakes his head. "No, no, it'll be quick." Something in his expression softens, and you blink as he reaches out and places his hand gently over yours. He suddenly looks a lot more serious. "Tell me what I'm saying. Je suis amoureux de toi."

You open your mouth, softly whispering the words. Your mind's nearly a total blank; it seems you really didn't learn much from that dictionary. You're at least determined to get the beginning. "Ah... Je is 'I', so je suis would be 'I am',  right?"

Polnareff nods. He wraps his hand around yours and holds it, just as he had earlier today. "Yes. Je is 'I', suis is 'am'..." He lifts his other hand and entwines it with yours. You're not sure what he's saying but you allow yourself to hope, just a little.

Polnareff's voice is hardly above a whisper as he says, "Je suis amoureux de toi - I'm in love with you."

A huge smile breaks across your face and you feel like you're floating. When Polnareff sees your reaction, his smile widens as well, and he leans down and wraps you up in a careful hug. "I love you too," you murmur in his ear; you think you might burst into tears if you try to speak any louder. "I have for a while now. I'm so happy you - " Despite your best efforts, you feel yourself start to cry. Polnareff leans back a bit, and you're almost amused to see that he's crying too. You probably look like a couple of lovesick fools, and you're so, so, happy.

"I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me, (Y/N)," Polnareff murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "How much it means to me that you care."

"Of course I care," you whisper back, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. "I care because you mean the world to me."

Polnareff looks down into your eyes, and you both take in each other's expressions. "You know, I think we're perfect for each other," he breathes, and as you start to agree, he moves forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

Nothing has ever felt more right than Polnareff's lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly can. He parts from you for just a moment to help you sit up a bit, so that he doesn't cause the injury to your midsection any pain. You wince when a particularly sharp pang of pain hits you, and Polnareff softly runs his hand over your hair. After a moment, the feeling dissipates, and you kiss him again.

"Je t'aime," you breathe against his lips, and he smiles. You gently kiss the corner of his mouth and then rest your head on his shoulder. As he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, you whisper, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

It's pitch black out as Joseph drives the group's large car down the winding roads to Cairo, with only the faint radio and Avdol's occasional snores to keep him company. He isn't exactly happy about driving in these conditions, but you had needed a few extra hours of bedrest before you could start this little road trip. Every once in a while, he glances at the back seat, and he finds you, Jotaro, and Polnareff all fast asleep.

After a couple hours of driving, Joseph hears someone stir behind him. He glances up at the rearview mirror and watches as Polnareff rubs his eyes and groggily looks to his left. You're sleeping against him, with your head on his shoulder and one arm loosely wrapped around his midsection. Polnareff's mouth turns up in a little smile, and he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"So I see everything worked out for (Y/N)," Joseph comments. Polnareff looks up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed to find he was being watched, and Joseph just laughs shortly. "I've always known you two were going to end up together. You really are a perfect fit."

Polnareff's face goes red and he looks back at you. "...Yeah. I'm really lucky."

"Oh, I know!" Joseph laughs again, startling Polnareff. "You should've seen (Y/N) last night, pouring over the French language like their life depended on it. They wanted so badly to make you happy after this hell we've been through."

Polnareff almost feels like crying again. He can't believe how truly lucky he is to have found you. "Still," Joseph says, "it's not quite over yet." Polnareff watches Joseph's expression turn somber through the rear-view mirror. "We've still got to kill Dio."

"Yeah." As he gazes down at you, so peaceful in sleep, he feels a fire light in his mind. He'd do anything to keep you alive, and while killing Dio will surely be extremely difficult, he knows he's going to do it - for Joseph, for Jotaro, for Holly Kujo, and for you. "We'll do it. We'll kill him and we'll all be fine."

"You're quite the optimist," Joseph mutters, sighing. "I try to be as well, but I'm worried that our luck so far will finally catch up to us in this final battle."

Polnareff isn't quite sure what to say, but now there's no doubt in his mind that they'll succeed in the fight against Dio. He just sighs, careful not to disturb you, and rests his head against the car window. "Do you want me to stay awake with you?" he asks Joseph.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there pretty soon." Polnareff nods and shuts his eyes, and Joseph quickly turns his eyes back to the road.

As Polnareff begins to doze off, he gently clasps your hand in his. He hasn't had a home for a long time; ever since he lost his sister, he hasn't known that feeling of having somewhere - or someone - you truly belong with. Now, next to you, he dares to hope he's feeling it again. He's always loved you, he's realizing - you've always made him feel this way, whenever you joked around together or fought side-by-side in battle. Knowing that you feel the same was the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Just before he falls asleep, he whispers a gentle, "I love you." He holds your hand a little tighter and finally drifts off.

Joseph casts one final glance at the two of you in the back seat. Unlike Polnareff, he's a little more worried about the potential outcome of the face-off with Dio. Maybe, though, just maybe - the endless love you two possess for one another will be what wins the fight.

[solari-writes-things]

Conventional

requested by: anon

Prompt(s):

#29: “Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”

#38: “Nothing about us is conventional”

Chibs Telford x Reader

WARNINGS: Language, mild NSFW.

gif credit: to the OP.

SoA Tag List: @thebookishfeminist​ :|: @sazafraz​​​ :|: @crimsonheart01​​​ :|: @kind-wolf​ :|: @tsumethedrifter​ :|:​ @chibsytelford​​ :|: @supervalcsi​​ (To be added to the tag list, please message me, or comment below!)

Diosa Norte was starting to pick up it’s business recently. You were supportive of the Club and their decision to work closely with Nero, agreeing that it would bring good business. They were kind enough to hand you a job as a hostess, essentially. There would be no need to sleep around with any of the guests that come inside, just flash a smile and wear something nice. However, seeing you in anything dressy left your old man longing for you at night.

As more time passed, he began to stop by to attempt to distract you from your work. To eyeball you, study you in whatever uniform you selected for the day. It was casual visits, usually.

Until today.

The club had a rather stressful afternoon, and Chibs had made it quite clear that he was coming by. You allowed it to happen, figuring that you could make him feel just a little bit better during your break. Was it actually just that simple? Absolutely not. It never was, when it came to the club--when it came to Chibs and his needs.

Not that you minded so much. Usually, you would use one of the rooms if it was a rather quiet afternoon. During the week was usually the best time, there was only a few clients and none of them went into the rooms to begin with. However, it was a warm Saturday evening and Diosa Norte had it’s fair share of business.

So you stupidly agreed with Chibs and this grand idea that he said he had, body pressed against his as your back was against the door. His breath was heavy against your lips, hands gripping at your legs.

He was trying to feel you up in a hurry, hands traversing up your legs in a rush. The motions had been quick enough for his elbow to collide with a shelving unit, causing you to wince at the loud noise and pull your head back with a purse of your lips.

“Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!” you said in a hushed tone, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he hiked you up by your thighs to put your legs around his waist.

“Ah, we’ll be alright, love,” he replied simply, ignoring the several sets of footsteps that had passed by the supply closet that you two had found yourselves in.

He presses another hard kiss to your lips, exerting a chuckle from you. “Why did I ever agree to making out with you in a fucking closet...?” you ask him, grinning in amusement at the idea.

“To be fair, nothing about us is conventional,” he admitted to you, and you watched as he flashed one of his charming trademarked grins.

Chibs had always found a way to make your heart skip a few beats. His attitude, his smile, everything about your old man seemed to make your head spin in circles and you didn’t seem to mind it for a single second. You move to connect your lips to his again, matching the hurried motion his hands seem to grip at your legs and push up.

Even though the location he had chosen had been cramped, everything about this moment had seemed to be perfect.

“Chibs!” you heard one of the club members call out from the lobby of Diosa Norte.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you had noticed Chibs’ cell phone ringing nonstop for the past few minutes. You elected to ignore it with him, as you both didn’t want this to end so abruptly. Not that it would stop the both of you from taking the tension out on each other when you got home.

“Shit...” you murmur, feeling his breath brush against your lips as he sighed.

“Of fuckin’ course,” he chuckled, slowly unraveling your legs and lowering you down so you didn’t slip suddenly.

“Your boys have immaculate timing, Telford,” you grin at him, your voice low so they couldn’t find him right away.

“Don’ they always, lovey?” he retorted, moving back just a bit so that you could turn around and open the closet door.

“I’m gonna have a few choice words with the Prez, I know that.” Your hand grips the doorknob, turning it slowly so that none of the surrounding people could hear the door open. You manage to pull it and squeeze yourself out, brushing down the front of your dress so that your closet adventure was not as obvious to wandering eyes.

Chibs steps out behind you, closing the supply closet door just as softly as you had opened it. He turns to you, his eyes scanning your form just one last time before he gave a mischievous smile.

“I’ll be seein’ ya at home, sweetheart. Don’ undress immediately, we have unfinished business,” he said, another goofy grin spreading across his face.

You could only return it with a grin of your own, your arms crossing over your chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe. Get out of here, before your club starts a fuckin’ search party.”

You could see the other patches turn to find him, pausing when they saw the both of you standing in the hall.

It earned a beam from Tig, and you shot a look right back to him.

“See ya, darlin’,” he said finally, bringing your head towards him gently so that he could press a kiss to your forehead.

“See ya later,” you told him, closing your eyes at the contact.

He departs, turning around on his heels to move for the rest of the club that had waited on him to return. You’d be lying, if you didn’t admit that you were anxious for the rest of your shift to finish.