#but I included some on my own that were a mix of ‘I can’t believe someone didn’t nominate this I have to do everything myself’

[bibiswritingcorner]

Sweet Temptation

Sylus x Reader

CHAPTER 1

I posted it on my Ao3 account because Tumbrl was being stinky and wouldn't let me post, but apperantly it works now ? 🥲

Anyways please ignore any mistakes I might have made while writing this. Also I will be following the story line to an extend just with my own twist :> Hope you enjoy~

From the moment I stepped into the Auction House I knew something wasn’t right. The air felt strange, I could feel the anxiety in it. My skin prickled with goosebumps as I made my way towards the back where the changing rooms were located. I didn’t miss the way my co-workers ran around the place like headless chickens, something wasn’t right and I was curious to know what was so special about tonight’s auction.

 The changing room I was assigned to was mostly reserved for the hostesses. Some of them already sat in front of the mirrors, applying their make up and checking their hair while others were busy putting on the standard uniform. A red, stain dress and black heels. I hated it, the shoes were uncomfortable and the dress way too tight for my dress but the job was relatively easy and well paid so I learned to suck it up.

  I changed as well and put on the make up, while tying up my hair I realized that the girls were… nervous. They hid it well behind their make up and practiced smiles but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that. Being able to feel and manipulate ones emotions was a blessing and a curse all in one, right now it was a mix of both. I knew something was up but I wished I knew what. The feeling of anxiety… it made me breath a little bit harder than normal.

 As I put down my hairbrush the door to the changing room slammed open. I jumped in my seat and turned around to see our boss, Ernesto, walk inside with two of his bodyguards trailing behind him.

 Ernesto was a man in his mid fifties, with graying hair and a large beer belly. He was short and stubby, his movement sluggish but his black beady eyes still made me nervous. The Auction House I was currently in? Yeah, that belonged to him as well as everyone inside it, myself included. He was a man I did not want to mess with, nobody working for him did.

 “Y/n.” oh fuck, why did he just spoke my name? I rather feel than see the stares of other girls as they looked between me and our boss in morbid curiosity. I can taste their fear on my tongue; it’s bitter and makes my mouth tingle. I hate it.

 “Y-Yes?” I stutter, of course I do, this man terrified me. It didn’t matter that I was a whole head taller than him, even without the heels. I knew he could make me or break me and that in itself was scary enough for me.

 “My office, in five minutes.” Was his sharp command before he turned around and left, leaving me alone with questions I did not have any answers to.

 What did I do? I can’t remember the last mistake I made, did I unintentionally insult one of the guests last week during an auction? But how? All I did was walk around and serve drinks!

 “Best not keep him waiting.” I heard one of the girls say, making me snap out of my daze as I nod my head and stand up.

Ernesto’s office is dark and gloomy, perfectly resembling the man sitting behind the dark wooden desk. I stand in front of him, my hands in front of my body as I wait for him to speak. Finally, after what feels like forever, he takes a sip of his whiskey and grunts before locking his beady eyes with mine.

 “I’m not going to play games with you.” he starts and I feel my heart become heavy with every second “I need you to accompany a guest tonight.”

 “Accompany a guest?” I can’t help but be confused at his sudden request. Well if you can even call it a request in the first place that is. “We’ve never done that before.”

 “Well now we do!” I jump at the volume of his voice before looking down at the ground. “This isn’t just anyone. It’s freaking Sylus, we need you to keep him busy during the first part of the auction.”

 My heart drops upon hearing the name. Sylus was the leader of Onychinus, the single man controlling nearly everything that happened inside the N109 Zone. He was dangerous, unpredictable and powerful. And I was going to make sure he’d stay busy during the first part of the auction. But-

 “Why?” I ask, before I can really stop myself from mumbling the word.

 “Do not question me, girl.” My boss hissed, pushing back the graying black hair, exposing his sweaty forehead.

 “You’re scared.” I note, my voice calm despite the brewing storm inside. “Did… something happened?” I knew it wasn’t my place to ask such Questions, hell I could get shot by being so… noisy. But I honestly didn’t care. Something was up and I wanted, no I needed, to know what.

 “Heh, you’re perceptive aren’t ya ?” the grin on his face makes me feel uneasy, but I swallow it down and just look at him. After a moment he sighs as if giving up on keeping the secret hidden for much longer. “We have a special kind of Protocore in the auction today. It’s... a borrowed treasure, so to speak.”

 “Borrowed?” I narrow my eyes, “As in stolen?” he doesn’t answer me, just nods his head with a grim expression on his face. “From who, exactly?” the silence that stretches inside the office makes me want to puke.

 “Sylus.” Ernesto replies after a second, taking another sip of the alcohol in his glass. “He wasn’t supposed to show up at all today, but somehow he caught the wind of the auction taking place and well… He wants to attend tonight’s party himself.”

 “Wait… you stole from him?” I choke out, panic gripped my heart as I starred at the man in front of me in disbelief. “Are you serious? Do you know what he would do to you once he-“

 “That’s the thing. He won’t do anything.” He smiles all of a sudden and stands up from his chair to round the desk. I watch in disbelief as he leans against it, his whole body oozing out a strange calm. I raise an eyebrow and he sees the confusion and curiosity on my face. “That’s when you come on.”

 “M-me?” I choke with wide open eyes. “What do you mean by that ?”

 “Your Evol.” I freeze “You control emotions, no? The plan is simple really. Keep him company and if shit hits the fan you’d be the one to calm him down, how does that sound?”

 “Fucking awful.” I wanted to say but bite my tongue. Instead I frown, my heart is beating so fast it might as well flee my chest at any given moment.

 “I don’t know Ernesto… My Evol doesn’t control it manipulates. There’s a difference.” I say slowly, carefully choosing my words because I sense the growing unease inside him. “What if I can’t stop him in time? What then?”

 “Well, I should be long gone by then in which case he’d be your problem.”

 Fucking great.

  I try to act normal as I walk among the patrons, holding a golden with crystal glasses filled with the best wine money could buy. Gosh, I needed one of them myself but I knew better than indulge myself on a job. Even through I knew I could probably get away with this I didn’t want to risk getting myself tipsy, not tonight. Not when I was about to face the most dangerous man in the city if not the Planet itself.

 I offer the guest polite smile as I speak with them, laugh at their jokes and offer the alcohol. The auction was going to start at any moment and so far there was no sight of Sylus anywhere. Not like I would recognize him anyways, I have never in my life seen that man before. Just as I think I might get lucky tonight and that Ernesto was wrong about the whole thing the entrance door open and I feel my breath escape in a single gasp.

 It's omnipresent, the weight of his confidence and authority make my mouth dry and my tongue feel heavy. I feel physically sick when I slowly turn around towards the door of the Auction House and see him standing there, between two men – are they wearing crow masks?

 My eyes take him in. Tall and lean with silver hair swooped to the side that revealed a pair of eyes so red they might as well be priceless rubies instead of eyeballs. He started to walk and I’m suddenly hit with the fact that I was supposed to keep him busy. How can I do that when I’m unable to move ?

 “Sylus!” Ernesto’s deep voice booms as he approached the late guest. I finally snap out of my daze and look around, everyone is watching them now. As soon as my boss uttered Sylus’s name I could feel the tension in the air grow thicker. Everyone knew who he was but much like myself not many people have seen his face before.

 “Ernesto.” I think my brain malfunctions when he finally speak. His voice is… well it’s sinful and it makes my heart beat so fast I can hear it in my own ears. He speaks my boss’s name with such distaste but it’s masked by the subtle smile on his face.

 To my utter horror I realize that I cannot read his emotions like I can with others. Sure I feel his presence and it’s heavy as hell but other than that? Null, Zero, Zippo. Was he wearing something that dulled Evols ? Or maybe it was me and the fact that I was about to pass out simply from seeing a man that could level this whole place to the ground with a flick of his wrist.

 “I’m glad you could make it, old friend.” Sylus doesn’t let it be known that he isn’t pleased by the way he was addressed as, but the slight twitch of his cheek is enough of a tattletale. I gulp and make my way over, slowly, very slowly to buy myself some time and calm down before I make the situation worse. “Ah, there she is.” All four of them turn towards me, I now notice that the masked men have followed Sylus like shadows. I can feel their curiosity and it makes me wonder what the hell was going on. I focus on Sylus again but… I still don’t feel anything.

 “Hmm.” red eyes meet mine and I feel like my soul is about to leave my body. He senses my unease and the smirk on his face makes me nearly buckle under my own weight. This wasn’t fair. “And who is this?” Sylus tilts his head, the gesture oddly adorable but it does not fit his image at all.

 “This…” I yelp when my boss grabs me by the elbow and pulls me closer. I could have sworn I saw Sylus’s right eye flash a bright red for a second but I ignore it in favor of not stumbling in front of everybody. “…is our lovely Y/n.”

 “Good evening.” I give myself a mental high five for not stuttering like a fool. I even manage a small smile as I look at the silver haired man in front of me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I nod my head.

 “Y/n will keep you company tonight. You are our VIP member after all, it’s only natural you get the best, right?” I can tell that Ernesto is scared as fuck, even without my Evol I can see how sweaty he has become. My nose scrunches in mild disgust before I school my expression into a neutral one.

 “Company?” Sylus questioned with a raise of an eyebrow, when his gaze lands on me I freeze for a second. “I see… very well.” Ernesto sighs in pure relief but masks it under a cough.

 “I’ll be going then, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that my boss leaves me alone with Sylus and his henchmen.

 “Well then-“ he extends his hand towards me, a charming smile on his face. “Shall we ?”

[writing-cins]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫 - Part 1

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairings: Alastor x female reader Summary: During a night out at a club with the hotel crew, you enjoy dancing and drinking with Angel while Alastor remains visibly uncomfortable in the lounge area. Seeking distraction from your conflicted feelings towards him, you connect with another woman, which quickly escalates into an embarrassing situation. This forces you to question not only your emotions but also the true nature of your complicated relationship with Alastor. Warnings/Tags: female reader, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, kissing, reader is bisexual and makes out with another woman, Alastor gets jealous, Alastor is bad at feelings so instead of communicating his jealousy he decides to taunt reader, second hand embarrassment Wordcount: 4.4k A/N: I can’t believe it – I’ve finally managed to write a new story! It has a second part that’s almost finished and will be posted at the end of the month. If you’d like to be tagged when it’s up, just let me know! Fun fact about this story: It includes lore about my OC Mara, as the circumstances under which the reader meets Selena are the same as those in which Mara encounters her best friend in my AU! Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!

Masterlist

   The club was packed with bodies and the colorful neon lights flickered in time with the relentless beat of electronic music. Loud chatter and the pounding bass around him formed an unbearable cacophony that made Alastor cringe inwardly. He despised the modern scene and its noise, the crowds and overall lack of refinement. It was far from his idea of a pleasant evening. Oh, how much he hated to be here. Stressed and feeling completely out of place, Alastor sat in the lounge area of one of Pentagram City's most notorious clubs, his grin strained, his ears perked up and a much too sweet cocktail in his hand. If it wasn’t for his gloves, the whitened knuckles from his heavy grip around the glass would’ve been apparent even from afar. He hadn’t intended to come here and would’ve preferred to stay at the hotel, settling himself in front of his fireplace with a good book and fine jazz in the background. Honestly, he would’ve even preferred to clean the entire hotel over being forced to spend his time in this establishment which felt as wrong as a walk through the Vee’s district. It was Angel Dust who had brought up the idea of this excursion, promising a wild night of fun and debauchery to blow off some steam. The other residents had barely hesitated, convinced by the idea of spending a night out together. To Alastor’s biggest disapproval, they had insisted on him to accompany them. Not that they would’ve had the power to convince him to leave the tranquility of the quiet hotel behind for such a cacophony of modern entertainment that could be the product of one of his nightmares – no. It was you who had convinced him in the end. You were just too persistent and persuasive, and he was just too taken with you to refuse after such big eyes begged him to join.

   You, on the other side, enjoyed the evening. You were completely in your element, dressed up in a tight but elegant cocktail dress and exuding confidence as if you owned this place. Together with Angel Dust, you dominated the dance floor with fluid and inhibited movements, your arms held up in the air while you swung your hips to the rhythm of the music. You quickly became the center of attention, especially for Alastor who couldn’t help but watch you from his secluded spot, a mix of admiration and irritation flickering in his otherwise unreadable eyes. How he admired your confidence, your ability to let loose in such an uncomfortable and overstimulating place, reveling in the atmosphere with such vivid enthusiasm. Yet, the feelings he held for you were a secret, cautiously buried beneath the layers of his Radio Demon persona. 

   “Come on, Smiles, loosen up and have some fun,” Angel Dust suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts, and Alastor snapped his head in his direction, raising his eyebrows at the spider demon. When did he leave the dance floor? As Alastor glanced at him, he noticed a small tray with half a dozen shots in his hands. Angel must have left for the bar to get drinks for himself and the others. If he really thought he could convince Alastor to indulge in this kind of modern entertainment, he was delusional.

   Without a word, Alastor rolled his eyes and waved him off, his gaze drifting back to you before he got aware that Angel Dust still stood beside him and turned his attention to the glass in his hand.

   The spider demon let out a deep sigh. “Alright. Haven’t expected anything else,” he murmured and walked on, but not without placing one of the full shot glasses on the small table in front of Alastor and disappearing before Alastor could say something. He watched Angel Dust return to the dance floor, heading directly towards you. Then he stared at the shot glass and raised his eyebrow, clear liquor grinning back at him. With a sigh that was impossible to hear under the loud noise other people dared to call ‘music’, he took it in his hand and downed the substance in one gulp. A spicy burn seared in his throat, making him cough. At least the shot was tolerable…

   You had the time of your afterlife. Increasingly intoxicated after downing one drink after another you danced in the crowd, hips swaying vividly to the music with such unrestrained joy you haven’t felt in a long time. It was a good idea to agree to Angel’s suggestion to go partying. You didn't know that you needed this until you had arrived and he dragged you to the bar almost immediately to get ready for a night of reckless debauchery. You haven’t left the dance floor since you’ve emptied your first longdrink and probably won’t within predictable time because Angel Dust served you with new drinks almost every quarter of an hour.

   You watched your friend worm himself through the crowd, skillfully avoiding contact with any of the other guests, balancing the tray high above his head while he shielded himself from accidental punches with his second set of arms. When he arrived, he placed the tray on a high bar table not far from you. Still entranced by the music you danced your way over to him.

   “Damn, you really want to mess me up, huh?”, you joked as you noticed the amount of shots he got and Angel shrugged his shoulders.

   “Lil’ stock supply will prevent me from fighting myself over to the bar for at least another half an hour,” he responded, handing you a shot glass and taking one for himself.

   A laugh escaped your throat and you praised him for his genius idea with a quick wink. “Then let’s hope no one will spike them when we look away.” With that, you raised your shot glass in a quick toast and downed the clear liquor with high anticipation, a cough escaping you as the spicy alcohol burned down your throat. Dry Ouzo. Tasty, but like fire in the stomach.

   Angel chuckled at your reaction, clearly unaffected due to his regular club nights with Cherri.

   “Hey man, thanks for the drinks!” a random stranger exclaimed over the music, boldly snatching two shots away and disappearing in the crowd as fast as he had appeared.

   “And so the stock runs out,” Angel Dust deadpanned with an annoyed expression, staring with narrowed eyes in the direction the shot thief took their leave.

   You snorted through your nose, erupting in wholehearted laughter at his reaction, and shrugged your shoulders. “Looks like you’ll have to return to the bar sooner than anticipated,” you mocked him with a smirk, patting one of his lower shoulder joints.

   “Hmpf…” Without another word, Angel took another shot and downed it right after.

   You and Angel Dust spend some time just standing at the bar table, chatting with raised voices and watching the other guests while you commented on their dancing styles or played a sheepish game of ‘fuck, marry, kill’ with random strangers you pointed out from the crowd.

   After what was about an hour, you cleared your throat. “I need to go to the bathroom. After that, I’ll head to the bar and get myself a soda,” you informed Angel, and he nodded in acknowledgment. Pushing yourself up from the table, you navigated through the crowds, the effect of almost half a dozen shots clearly affecting your vision and balance. It wasn’t too debilitating because your body could handle large amounts of alcohol easily, but you still felt uncomfortable and needed some time to steady yourself and return to your senses. Some non-alcoholic drinks might work wonders to ease the symptoms. You're bound to face a brutal hangover tomorrow anyway.

   After you returned from the bathrooms you walked over to the bar, ordering a simple soda from the barkeeper. You thanked him as he handed you your non-alcoholic drink and leaned with your back against the bar counter. As you took a few gulps, your gaze wandered around the club and a sigh escaped your throat. It was an awesome evening though different from what you expected. You actually had planned to take it easy and not indulge in such debauchery. But Angel had claimed you as soon as you entered the club, dragging you away from the group and lulling you to loosen up. It’s not that you weren’t eager to go clubbing. You actually liked to partake in such excursions and just forget about the daily stress for an evening full of fun and loud music. And this time, it seemed to be helpful to suppress certain matters of the heart as well…

   Your gaze wandered to the lounge area where you found a certain deer demon sitting on a couch – the seats around him unoccupied because no one dared to sit close to him – and you could feel your heart sink. You were so confident when you convinced him to join your excursion and yet you didn’t dare to spare him a single glance ever since you entered this establishment. You had convinced him to join in a moment of boldness, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this could be an opportunity to bridge the gap between you. But instead you feared that you complicated things even further.

   Alastor was an enigma and that was part of the allure that drew you in. His charm, his charisma, and the old-world chivalry he brought to every interaction caused you to melt every time he was near. He made your heart race with a single glance, his touch – so commanding yet delicate – set your skin on fire, sending thousands of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was a force of nature, fierce and unpredictable, with a soft spot only those he chose were privileged to see. And you were one of those people. Yet, you weren’t even sure if you meant anything to him because he held you at a respectable distance, initiating a game of push and pull between you that left you reeling.

   Was it a mistake to bring him here? A part of you thought it was because you knew he never was one for Hell’s modern nightlife and seeing him sit there, a predator among prey with a strained grin plastered on his face and holding onto a drink in his hands, only highlighted the chasm between you two. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you made things worse by dragging him into an environment where he seemed completely out of place, and where your feelings for him felt more unrequited than ever.

   "Dizzy head?" A female voice disrupted your train of thoughts, and you raised your head to meet the kind face of a beautiful woman leaning against the bar counter. She held a long drink with a tiny paper umbrella in her hand, her lips curled into a soft smile. Her skin had a pale pinkish hue, almost ghostly under the club's dim yet colorful lights, while two horns peeked out from her thick raven hair.

   "A little," you responded, pushing your daunting thoughts away, and took a sip from your soda. "But nothing to worry about. A few minutes of abstinence will do enough," you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the haze.

   The woman laughed along and glanced thoughtfully at the drink in her hands. “I’ll probably do the same after this one.” She shrugged and then turned her gaze back to you. “I’m Selena,” she introduced herself with a bright smile.

   “Y/N!” you returned much more joyfully than you felt.

   “So, your first time here? I’m a regular guest here so I know all of the common faces.”

   You took another sip from your soda. Maybe getting to know someone new would help you feel better. “I actually came here with a group of people. Friends and co-workers, you could say. Just a simple night out to get some distraction from the stress of maintaining the hotel,” you explained with a slight smile on your lips as your gaze quickly wandered around the club. You noticed some of your companions scattered across the establishment.

   Selena tilted her head curiously, clearly intrigued. “The hotel? So, you’re working at that ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” she asked, and soon your casual small talk turned into an extensive conversation. You told her about your job and Charlie’s unusual belief in redemption that barely received any recognition, and Selena listened intently, her curiosity keeping the conversation alive with thoughtful questions. As you talked, a sense of relief washed over you. Slowly, you learned more about Selena, and before long, thoughts of Alastor faded from your mind entirely.

   As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn back into the rhythm of shots and cocktails, and soon enough, Selena dragged you back to the pulsing dance floor. The flashing lights and thumping bass faded into the background as you moved in sync, the world reduced to just the two of you dancing and laughing like old friends. The chemistry between you was palpable. Selena mirrored your enthusiasm and joy with such ease that it felt like you had known each other for years. With every dance move and shared laughter, the bond between you deepened and you were certain that if the night continued on this smoothly and you both remembered each other the next morning, you had found a new friend. 

   The music – a popular pop song from the early 2000’s – filled the air, infusing the atmosphere with nostalgia and energy, and a sense of euphoria washed over you. You danced, drinks raised into the air while you held each other on the shoulders. Each move felt like a release, a moment of being liberated from all worries and constraints as the adrenaline rushed through your veins.

   You exchanged meaningful glances with Selena, unable to ignore the magnetic pull you felt toward her. Was it merely the alcohol heightening your perceptions, or was it genuinely her captivating presence – her allure, infectious personality, and sharp wit – that drew you in? You didn’t know but your mutual attraction pulled you closer until you eventually slipped away, stumbling into a quiet hallway at the back of the club, away from the pounding music and the press of bodies. The alcohol clouded your vision, lowered your senses and your boundaries. And so, you found yourself caught in a passionate embrace with Selena. Your fingers played with her hair as you pressed yourself against her, using the proximity with that alluring woman to your own benefit to forget about the tight squeeze around your heart and all the inner turmoil you felt whenever you thought about him.

   Meanwhile, Alastor still sat in his secluded spot, grateful that his presence was nervously avoided by the other guests. He appreciated not having to endure forced proximity with people – at least most of the time. One time during the evening, Charlie – ever the caring person – had seated herself next to him, expressing her worry about his obviously strained mood and claiming to feel guilty for not allowing him to stay at the hotel. How funny that the princess truly believed she was the reason he joined their little night out; as if she had any authority over him... To his surprise, Alastor had easily managed to brush her off by affirming he was alright all over again. A blatant lie, but preferable over enduring more of her neverending rambling. Of course, she reassured him several times that returning to the hotel would be okay, before she eventually left him alone. And Alastor would have already left hours ago if it wasn’t his primary concern to ensure your safety.

   He felt a migraine coming on, an unpleasant throbbing in his temple caused by the stress this establishment was inflicting upon him. Rising from his seat, he decided to retreat from the main area to seek some respite from the oppressive atmosphere, instructing his shadow to remain vigilant. With his cane tapping against the floor with every step, he walked past the lounge area and the dancefloor, the crowd instinctively parting to make way for him like Moses parting the Red Sea. Thanks to his observant shadow, he already knew that the back of the club led to an outside area that offered a welcome relief from the sensory overload.

   As he walked through the dimly lit hallway, the music became quieter, no longer assaulting his sensitive hearing, and instead, faint giggles reached his ears. He hesitated before rounding the corner and stopped dead in the tracks. There, in front of him, were you, pressed against a wall and your lips locked with another woman in a heated kiss. The scene was intimate, passionate, and entirely unexpected. Your body was entwined with her’s, your hands roaming through her hair while the woman held you in her embrace.

   For a moment, Alastor simply watched, unable to avert his gaze. This revelation caught him completely off-guard and his heart twisted painfully in his chest, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy and confusion warring inside him. He had known that you were fond of men but this revelation left him reeling. But no matter with whom you were with, seeing you in such an intimate manner with another person was a blow he hadn’t anticipated and that sent a surge of anger through his body. He clenched his fists, torn between storming away and interrupting you, the discomfort palpable in his features while he fought to regain his composure.

   Sensing eyes on you, you broke the kiss and looked up. You startled immediately as your eyes fell on the red deer demon.

   "Alastor!" you exclaimed in shock, instinctively pushing Selena away. She turned her head, her eyes widening immediately, her face paling in shock and fear as she recognized the figure standing before you both. "You– you’re the Radio Demon!" she stammered, her voice shaky.

   You, still breathless from the kiss, clenched your jaws together, feeling just as uncomfortable as Alastor. His grin looked strained for a second but then he returned to his cold, unreadable expression, and your heart sank in your chest.

   “Alastor… this isn’t what it looks like…” you muttered a cheap excuse while you felt the heat rising to your face, turning your already alcohol-induced cheeks to a burning red. Your lips curled into a nervous grin, driven by the rush of embarrassment coursing through your veins, mingled with a heavy, unidentifiable tangle of emotions. Out of all your companions, why did it have to be him who caught you in the middle of the act?

   Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile now sardonic while his gaze wandered back and forth between you and Selena. His voice carried a heavy static as he responded, “Oh, I think it is exactly what it looks like, my dear.”

   You took in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t mean to–,” you tried to explain but Alastor cut you off with a dismissive wave of his clawed hand.

   “Nonsense, my dear,” he laughed his discomfort off, pushing his jealousy aside, though the enhanced static on his voice betrayed his forced facade. “There’s no need to apologize. You’re free to do whatever you want. I am the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to interrupt your…” He wiggled his fingers in a suggestive gesture that implied everything he wanted to say without having to utter a single word.

   You giggled nervously, your heartbeat slowly calming, and glanced at Selena who appeared visibly intimidated by Alastor’s presence, her posture tense and her joyful expression replaced by a mortified grimace, which only made you feel more uneasy.

   “I– I should go,” she eventually said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that lingered in the hallway and attempted to walk off.

   “No, wait!” you tried to stop her, not wanting to be left alone with Alastor, but Selena just forced herself to tighten her lips into a reassuring smile.

   “Don’t worry, I’ll find you later,” she retorted, interpreting your reaction as a worry to not see her again instead of the sheer plea to not be left alone. With that, she walked off, returning to the main part of the club and leaving you alone with Alastor.

   You felt his lingering gaze burning into your side, the faint glow of his crimson eyes in the dim light of the hallway making him appear more dangerous than he was. Well, assuming that Alastor wasn’t dangerous would be utterly naive – he was literally an overlord and one of the most dangerous ones at that. However, he would never harm you, so in that sense, he was harmless.

   “Enjoying yourself, I see,” Alastor eventually commented, his unreadable expression sharpened by a subtle flicker of disapproval in his eyes.

   You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him and that comment only exacerbated your unease. Why did he have to be someone who found pleasure in keeping other people on edge? Could he at least not wallow in your discomfort now? It wasn’t as if you weren’t already suffering enough.

   You sighed and bit your lip, swallowing the clod in your throat before you pulled yourself together to say something. “We were just… oh fuck me…” you mumbled those last words quietly to yourself, “Look, she’s a friend and we got a little too comfortable after drinking so much booze.” While you tried to explain the situation, you asked yourself why you even bothered. He couldn’t care less. You weren’t dating and probably not even friends. Damn, you didn’t even know what you were because everything was just too complicated between the both of you. There were pushes and pulls and every time you felt some tension crackling between you it dissipated again, leaving you clueless and completely confused by Alastor’s unpredictable behavior, his intermittent interest in you, and those random moments that allowed you a fleeting glimpse behind his facade. It was infuriating the least and most of all profoundly frustrating. If it wasn’t for him and your damned feelings for that man, you probably wouldn't even have found yourself in this predicament.

   “Why are you even here?” you asked and eventually dared to look at him. 

   “I was seeking some quiet,” he replied, his voice softer now, the edge gone.

   “And then you stumbled upon us and decided to watch?”

   He let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, come on. I did not watch,” he dismissed your question with a nonchalant throw of his hand, rolling his eyes as if you just asked him the stupidest thing. “But your little rendezvous was attracting quite the attention, dear.”

   You gritted your teeth and decided to push his borders a little. If he could make the situation awkward for you then you could certainly return the favor. Besides, you were still drunk and the alcohol lowered your inhibitions enough to go completely bold in front of him.

   Narrowing your eyes you crossed your arms in front of your chest and relaxed back against the same wall you were just pressed against by Selena mere minutes ago. “Quite the attention or your attention, Alastor?” you asked, pretending to be more confident than you actually were.

   Alastor’s grin grew more strained immediately and you could swear that one of his eyes twitched for a quick second before he regained his composure yet another time. Why was he so tense? Normally, Alastor would’ve just raised an eyebrow and walked past you without further interest. But instead he froze on spot, obviously unable to avert his gaze until you felt his eyes on you.

   He didn’t respond, so your expression grew more smug as you decided to push him just a little bit further. Maybe you could use this situation to your advantage and finally get some answers… “Could it be that it bothered you to catch me with someone else?”

   “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, dear,” he dismissed your question with another throw of his hand, rolling his eyes yet again. “I was merely caught off-guard by seeing you engaging in such frivolities with another woman. I didn’t know you swung both ways.” He tilted his head and chuckled, the static filter on his voice distorting the sound almost unnervingly.

   “Well, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you retorted, your voice coming out sharper than expected.

   One of Alastor’s ears twitched at your aggravated tone. “Is that so?” he asked.

   “It is.” You deadpanned.

   A moment of silence lingered between the two of you until Alastor broke it, “Well, the world is full of surprises, isn’t it? And you, my dear, seem to be full of surprises too.”

   “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

   “How about both?” He tilted his head once more, casually positioning his cane in front of him and leaning on it the way he usually did when he found himself intrigued by something. The tension that had gripped him so tightly vanished as if it had never been there at all. And there it was: the so-called push and pull that left you reeling for months. 

   You took a deep breath, growing annoyed by this conversation. “If you don’t care then why are you still here?”

   “Curiosity, dear,” he responded casually.

   “Curiosity?” You arched an eyebrow, not quite buying his answer.

   “Indeed,” he affirmed.

   “Curiosity killed the cat,” you deadpanned.

   “And satisfaction brought it back,” he retorted, clearly enjoying the banter.

   You groaned. Why did he have to do this to you…? “Well, if you’re satisfied now… you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” You pushed yourself off the wall, ready to return to the dance floor – but not without heading towards the bar beforehand and ordering the strongest booze you could get here.

   You already set off, as Alastor’s voice called after you, “Running away, are we?”

   You stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, reminding yourself that you were in public and therefore couldn’t just hit his head against a brick. Or…? Well, actually you could. You were in Hell, anyway. But Alastor was much stronger than you, and if you were to attack him, it meant that you couldn't be certain he would no longer be harmless to you. “I am not running away. I just don't see any reason to stay here and be interrogated by you any longer.”

   “Interrogated? My dear, I'm simply making conversation.”

   “This ain’t a simple conversation if you’re prying into my personal life.” With that you straightened your back and headed back to the main room of the club, leaving Alastor alone in the hallway, completely unaware of the hurt expression on his face.

Part 2 will be out at the end of the month. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[kirameitetegomen-mp3]

--reuploading this here because I panicked when I remade my tumblr accounts and was worried this was lost under an inaccessible read more (I had it saved in a google doc thank god)

Natori Shuuichi Character Analysis

Natori Shuuichi is one of the main supporting characters in Natsume Yuujinchou and probably the character who’s been the most polarizing in the fandom . As tends to happen with more polarizing characters, there’s been a lot of misconceptions and simplifications of his character. He’s the supporting character we have the most background info on and, like all the characters, is very complicated and fleshed out. His character arc and his dynamic with Natsume have gone through a lot of developments, from his cautionary tale type introduction to becoming one of Natsume’s most trusted friends. This essay will discuss his background and go into detail on many aspects of his character, as well as his dynamic with the protagonist.

General Background 

“Since I was little, I’ve been able to see things other people can’t. My grandfather and father became furious when I told them, and my mother looked sad. Our family apparently used to be exorcists, but the ability to ‘see’ died out. The family business folded. Ever since then, they’ve been afraid that one day the youkai will come for revenge. Then I was born, a new link to the youkai world. They started to think that I was the cause of the misfortunes that beset the family. Like my mother getting ill and dying and my grandfather becoming an invalid…”

Unlike Natsume, whose relatives didn’t know about the existence of youkai, Natori was born to a family of former exorcists. But instead of being grateful there was finally a new person in the family who could see, his family pinned the blame on him any time something bad happened to them, including the death of his own mother. He was seen as the source of tragedy in his family, and even told Hiiragi as a young child that if that were true, someone should have gotten rid of him before anything bad had happened. Because of what his relatives said, he believed as a young child that he was better off dead than alive.

In addition to this, a mysterious lizard-shaped youkai appeared on his skin one day when he was a child. This is what led him to begin studying all the exorcism resources in his family’s storehouse, but even into his early twenties has never found out what it is, other than realizing it never travels to his left leg. It’s revealed in special chapter 15/s5e8 that he feared it was some kind of curse and that it could hurt other people if they touched it.

Even aside from being hated for his youkai-seeing abilities, he was deemed worthless by his father who said he couldn’t do anything except scare the family to get attention. When he started prioritizing studying over eating, his father said if he had to skip dinner in order to get results, he was never good enough for anything in the first place.

It’s revealed late in the manga that his relatives stopped having children after him because they were scared of having another child who was like him. He desperately wanted a partner in his family to walk side by side with, but he saw through the disguise of his “younger cousin” and lost this as well. His aunt and uncle, his only relatives who didn’t resent him, left their estate, never to be seen.

Overall, his upbringing mainly involved being seen as a misfortune to others and too insufficient to amount to anything. By his teens, he had become avoidant of others, irritable and sensitive, very hard on himself, and developed an unstable sense of personal identity, with nothing in his life to tether himself to the world.

Joining the Exorcist Community

“I heard the rumors among youkai and exorcists. People still judged us harshly as a family, and this creepy, roving mark wasn’t helping. But at least when I was among people who could see them, I didn’t have to lie”.

Joining the exorcist community brought a mix of both positive and negative things into Natori’s life. 

On the positive end, it provided him with a source of stability he hadn’t had before, something he could anchor himself to. He found a purpose for himself, and a way to use his abilities to help others when before they had only been seen as something that brought harm. He could finally be around people who saw the same things he did.

On the negative end, he entered a community full of power hungry people who just wanted to use their abilities to gain power and status. The community held mindsets that youkai, and even humans, were tools to be acquired and used. Additionally, he quickly discovered that he was from a clan that was looked down upon and ridiculed by the rest of the community, and because of this, he isn’t treated well in the community.

At the beginning of his backstory chapter, we see he was very disconnected from others and the world around him. He was even disconnected from himself. His family avoided him at home and he avoided his peers at school. The thing he busied himself with most was spending time alone in the family storehouse, studying the exorcist resources left behind by his clan before they left the business. The exorcist community was the first source of stability and community he had in his life. It was a place where he could be away from his relatives who loathed him and where he could be surrounded by people with his sight. However, he immediately discovered upon going to his first exorcist meeting that even among people who could see, he was hated and scoffed at simply because of his family name. At home he was hated by his family because of his abilities, and at exorcist meetings he was hated by people who shared his abilities because of his family. They gossiped about him the same way his classmates gossiped about him at school. Despite this, he still felt content that he finally had found a purpose in his life, something to reach for and goals to achieve.

There were several main reasons driving him to pursue a career as an exorcist.

“If I keep going, I might find out how to get rid of this thing. Without it, I won’t have to feel so irritated. I might be able to be a nicer person. Even to my family…”

Finding a way to get rid of the lizard mark was a driving motivation that goes back all the way to his childhood. It’s what sparked his curiosity and determination to learn about youkai years before he even became an exorcist. 

The lizard is an unknown entity that lives and crawls around on his body -> this causes him to be constantly anxious because he doesn’t know what it is or if it’s hurting him and/or others and probably feels violated by it as well -> because he’s scared and anxious and uncomfortable all the time he’s always irritated -> because he’s always irritated he finds it difficult to be nice to people -> because he finds it difficult to be nice he avoids others and in general feels like he’s a bad person who hurts others. 

Therefore, when he goes back to the beginning of that sequence, he thinks the solution is to remove the lizard mark in order to become kind. His anxiety around the lizard mark is tied into his opinion of himself as someone who isn’t kind, and learning to become an exorcist becomes the apparent pathway to eventually be rid of his dilemma. 

“But maybe if I was able to exorcise this youkai, Mr. Takuma will accept me as one of them? Will I be able to prove myself to the other exorcists?”

Another is his longing for acceptance and belonging. He needs to be loved and needed by others, as this is something he never received in his childhood. He unfortunately doesn’t receive a lot of this upon entering the exorcist community. Even so, this doesn’t discourage him. He accepts that he needs to be patient and bide his time. If he can become strong enough, then he can become useful. He can “become somebody that somebody needs”. If he can defeat the youkai attacking exorcists, maybe Takuma will accept him as one. He thinks in order to be accepted by others, he needs to be of use to them, he needs to prove himself to others. He’s never been accepted just as he is, so he needs to make himself as strong and productive as possible so he can provide something for others, because he doesn’t think he’s worth anything by himself. 

“Dad… You’re worried about revenge because you used to be an exorcist. But what if… you helped people?”

The other big thing that drove him to become an exorcist is his general desire to help and protect others. Part of this is genuine altruism, but considering he grew up being told his presence was dangerous to others, it makes sense that he feels responsibility for keeping people safe. His abilities were always seen as a curse, but what if he could turn his abilities into a blessing? 

Sadly, the exorcism community doesn’t always contain the noble intentions and selfless desire to protect others and the accepting and understanding community that Natori had probably hoped for. It’s full of competition and sabotage between people who want to become famous and powerful and exorcise youkai at random just to test their powers and will even curse their colleagues just out of envy. This clashed with Natori’s ideals and goals, as he was more concerned with getting stronger in order to help people and become useful than he was with acquiring power and status for his own gain and reputation. He wanted to find a way to become kind, but entered a community full of unkind and petty people who try to undermine others. He wanted to be amongst people he wouldn’t have to lie to, but he ended up having to become an even better liar. Despite the positives it brought to his life it was also detrimental to enter a society like that at a time he was most vulnerable and unsure of himself and his identity.

Meeting Matoba and Takuma

“I’m not as good as the others, but I can see youkai better through glass. You know, It may be conceit, but I like to do what I can to protect people”. -Takuma

“You can’t protect anything if you’re not powerful, Shuuichi” -Matoba

Matoba and Takuma were the first two exorcists Natori met personally, and they appeared as two very different potential roles in his life, and represented different sets of ideals.

Takuma appears to Natori as a potential mentor or father figure. He is warm and kind to him and tells him he’s a nice kid, as opposed to how he’s been treated and seen by adults up until now. Takuma isn’t as strong as other exorcists, but he wants to do all he can to protect people and rid them of the fear and uncertainty they feel from youkai. This is what Natori also wants to achieve as an exorcist. He immediately latches onto Takuma’s kindness and desire to help people. However, even if Takuma is kind and cares for him, he keeps him at a distance and it doesn’t seem he ever became a true reliable mentor to him. This comes from a reasonable desire for Natori to stay out of trouble. He continuously tells him he needs to not come to exorcist meetings or take jobs, as it isn’t something for children to be involved in. While this may be true, Natori wasn’t going to back out of the exorcist community no matter how many times Takuma told him to. What he needed wasn’t for someone to tell him to stay away from danger when he wasn’t going to do that, he needed someone to look after him and guide him and teach him and to provide support in general. Additionally, Natori didn’t have anything else. His family was abusive and neglectful and he was uncomfortable and alone during school. He needed a community where he felt he could be himself and where he could have some kind of connection and be productive. Natori also doesn’t interpret Takuma’s pushing away as simply attempts to convince him to stay out of danger, but as a rejection because he isn’t strong enough. Throughout his first backstory, he thinks he needs to make himself stronger and more powerful. If he can do that, he’ll prove to Takuma that he belongs in the community, that he’s worthy of being an exorcist. 

Matoba is the first (and possibly only) peer close to his age Natori met who could see youkai. This would hopefully be a good thing, but the first thing he tells Natori is that he’s looking for allies he can “use”. This is the opposite of what Natori wants. He wants to be useful to others, but not used. Matoba is his first introduction to the kind of mindsets the exorcist community holds. The Matoba clan has maintained power since they started the community. When other weaker clans had fallen, they simply resigned to being absorbed into the head clan for protection. Natori’s clan is the one that refused to join and ended up leaving. Matoba wants to team up, but Natori immediately reads him as condescending and judgmental. From what we’ve learned about him and his clan, Matoba was raised to become the head of a powerful clan since he was young. It’s clearly seen in the way he talks and acts that he was taught his clan is at the top and the other clans are weak and foolish and stubborn. He’s been taught that you should use anyone and anything at your disposal who is useful. This worries Natori, who grew up being labeled as lazy and worthless. He has a very low view of himself and is desperate to prove that he is useful. But he doesn’t want to be useful as someone’s ally, he wants to be useful as an individual. This reflects the history of his clan’s history. The Natori clan wouldn’t work with the others and refused help to the very end, eventually giving up and leaving. We don’t know all of the details, but it’s likely this was out of pride as a very powerful clan. Like his ancestors, Natori also is resistant to Matoba’s help. However, this isn’t out of pride or thinking he’s too good for help, it’s because he thinks very poorly of himself and believes if he has to team up with someone stronger than him, then he isn’t good enough. He helps Matoba defeat the youkai they were hunting, but denies credit, giving it all to Matoba. Despite making a decent effort for his lack of experience, he thinks he failed completely. He wasn’t good enough to defeat it by himself, which means he failed. 

While it’s understandable that Natori felt uncomfortable around Matoba and avoided him, it isn’t fair to say Matoba was completely responsible for them not getting along, or that his only intentions were to make use of him and use him as an ally, or that he looked down on Natori. Matoba likes Natori, and he wants Natori to like him. He has a curious and enthusiastic nature, and takes genuine interest in others. Even if Natori is weaker than him, Matoba has respect for him and tries to provide helpful tips and compliments. He tells him things that could be helpful and compliments him when he succeeds at something (or at least makes an honest effort to). But unfortunately, despite his compliments being genuine, Matoba easily comes off as judgmental and superior and Natori is very sensitive to this. When someone your age or younger is obviously more experienced and stronger and talented than you are, when they try to be of help or compliment things that are much easier to them than they are to you, they are obviously reminding you of your weakness and inferiority and that you are too far behind to ever catch up. This is how Natori thinks, and it makes him very uncomfortable around Matoba. If he accepts his help, he accepts he isn’t strong enough to figure things out for himself. He can’t become his own person and follow his desired path if he gets stuck under someone with a clear and paved path.

More on Natori and Matoba’s Dilemma

Matoba and Natori’s situations are reversed in many ways. 

Matoba is from the head exorcist clan which has held power since the community started, and has been raised to be its leader. He would’ve grown up being praised and encouraged for his spiritual abilities. By his teens, he’s already grown into the role expected of him perfectly: he’s intelligent, cunning, ambitious, confidently seeks allies, has top-class spiritual abilities, and already knows the ins and outs of the industry. Natori is from a fallen exorcist clan. He grew up being loathed and ostracized and mistreated by his family members because of his abilities. He is intelligent, ambitious, and powerful despite his family’s expectations and views of him. Matoba has massive expectations and burdens from his family that he’s had to grow up with. Natori has no expectations on him or burdens to carry. Matoba has a narrow role assigned to him by others that he has to fit into, Natori has had to assign a role onto himself. 

Because Matoba has been given a clear and set path to follow with an entire clan backing him and guiding him, he is strong and unwavering, he knows who he is supposed to be and knows how to exist as that person. But because of this, his freedom is limited and he has very little space or opportunity to explore any options outside of what’s been given. He wasn’t given the choice on who he wants to be because it was already chosen for him. Because Natori was essentially discarded and cut off from his family at a young age (at least emotionally), he has never had a clear path ahead of him to follow and has had no one to back him up. He is shaky and uncertain about everything. He knows what kind of person he wants to be, but is unable to clearly see the kind of person he already is. However, the lack of expectations on him means he has the freedom to explore his options and think on what path he wants to create for himself, since there was never one given to him. 

They have natural gaps between each other that aren’t terribly big, but can never be crossed. Natori and Matoba are both powerful, but Natori will never see the beautiful chrysanthemums on the kimono. The two are close in age, but Natori will always be a year older than Matoba.

Despite their differences, they have more in common than Natori would like to accept. They are both very lonely, and they both crave closeness even if they deny it or put on fake ulterior motives.

Natori is lonely because he was isolated as something scary and unwanted, and his family kept him at a distance out of disgust and hatred. Matoba is lonely because he was isolated as a powerful asset for his clan, and may have been seen and raised as the future clan leader more than as just a normal human child.

In-between

We don’t know a lot about Natori between our two glimpses of him as a teenager and when we first meet him as an adult in the series. What we do know is that he had achieved his goal of becoming a powerful exorcist, acquired two servants (we still don’t know the story behind Sasago), and somewhere along the line became a charming up-and-coming movie star. His personality had also developed both for better and worse, you could argue. On one hand he had become a charming and more friendly person to be around, as opposed to his withdrawn and irritable teenage self. On the other hand, he had grown a lot more cold and cynical, and seemed to pick up a lot of behaviors and mindsets from the exorcist community (belief that youkai are either dangerous or they exist to be used as tools, manipulative behaviors, it’s better to take care of youkai before they pose a risk to humans, etc). 

Natori’s strengths: He is a charming and friendly person who’s kind and polite to his fans and coworkers. Even if he could be acting this way for appearances, he’s still learned to put aside his natural irritability and distrust of people in order to treat people he encounters politely (as opposed to the irritable and brusque way he interacted with his peers before). He is quick to recognize his mistakes and apologize for them, able to admit when he’s in the wrong (such as apologizing for the way he involved Natsume in his exorcism business). He is very concerned for others and it is his goal to help and protect others. He is determined and persevering and wants to search for his path in life.

Natori’s flaws: He has picked up deceptive and manipulative traits in order to thrive in his work community (such as omitting information or doing things in secret, acting charming to get what he wants or asking harsh questions to try and get Natsume to change his views). He is overprotective, and tends to use deceptive behavior in order to go about trying to keep people (Natsume in particular) safe. He is cold and cynical early on, often speaking harshly to Natsume when it comes to their disagreements about youkai (calling him naive and hypocritical, telling him he shouldn’t be soft to them, saying he needs to choose between youkai and humans).

Meeting Natsume

“I’m sorry, Natsume. I didn’t want to get you involved like this. You remind me of how I used to be. I just wanted to talk. I thought there were things I could tell you.”

After spending years being influenced and exposed to the exorcist community, Natori’s life was altered again after meeting our protagonist, Natsume. Exorcists exist at one end of a spectrum of youkai-seers: sympathizing with youkai is foolish and dangerous, youkai should be used as tools, you can’t protect people if you’re too soft; and Natsume is at the other end: being very sympathetic towards youkai, believing youkai are complex and have feelings and should be respected, you shouldn’t hurt them. 

Natori had many expectations in place when he first met Natsume: he was a young child who needed to be protected, he knew the same suffering and therefore must have responded accordingly (aka the same way Natori did), he’s very powerful and would prove to be a powerful assistant and exorcist, he needed someone older who could see the same things as him as a guide and mentor. What he got instead was a very headstrong kid who had become very sympathetic towards youkai, even to the point of being very against hurting them even in the case of urgent self defense. Natsume showed zero interest in helping with exorcism and continuously resisted Natori’s efforts to persuade him otherwise. 

Natori backed off on recruiting him for exorcism after seeing his reckless behavior, but still saw him as someone who needed to be guided and protected, and he still remained concerned at Natsume’s sympathy for youkai. 

Natsume and Youkai

“Don’t be naive. You have to have zero tolerance when they attack humans. [...] You see them, don’t you? Surely you of all people understand, after the suffering they’ve put you through. [...] You need to stay detached… or you’ll regret it someday.”

“It’s too late to be sorry after there’s an incident. You’re being a hypocrite. What if they lived near your beloved Fujiwaras? Would you still say it’s no big deal? [...] It’s about time you decided which is more important to you – humans or youkai.”

Natori has been in a community that only sees youkai as tools to be used, or dangerous creatures to get rid of. It’s a shock to him when Natsume yells at him for attacking a youkai in self defense, and later on when he jumps into a dangerous spell circle to protect one. Natsume shows as strong sympathy for youkai as he does for humans, something that Natori has never seen before. Youkai cause suffering to humans, especially humans who can see. Natsume has suffered because of youkai like Natori has, but yet he still cares for them as if they’re people. Natori early in the series sees Natsume as naive and foolish for this. He’ll regret getting emotionally attached to them, he’ll regret it if he doesn’t hurt a youkai who is dangerous. Natori has absorbed what the community taught him, what Matoba taught him. He needs to help Natsume realize how dangerous his mindset is. He chides Natsume for his softness, and he speaks very harshly and coldly to him during the situation with Kai. He ends up telling him he must make a choice between humans and youkai. If he really cares about humans, he should stop caring about youkai. But Natsume refuses to choose. He cares about both equally. Natori realizes he was too harsh and apologizes. 

He keeps his concern and caution, but he gradually begins to accept Natsume’s nature and his insistence at being connected to both worlds. 

Natsume and the Exorcist Community

“I’m sorry, Natsume… I brought you here so you’d see you weren’t alone. But maybe someone with your power shouldn’t make yourself known to others.”

“Now I’m sorry that I got you involved in this business in the first place… back then, I think I wanted to enlist you as an ally. Someone who could help me. That wasn’t fair to you. But now, I’m just happy to help you.”

It’s strange to me that the fandom often hated Natori for trying to involve Natsume in exorcism. It was very early on that he strongly regretted this, and he has spent most of the series trying to keep Natsume away from exorcists. The only two times he directly got Natsume involved in exorcism was when they first met (being very pushy about involving him even though Natsume was disinterested) and when he took him to the assembly (which Natsume actually did want to go to and help with). I don’t count the hot springs trip as he hadn’t expected it to turn into a big situation or intended to directly have Natsume help him. Every other time he’s either asked Natsume to leave (with Natsume choosing to stay or being unable to leave for some reason) or he’s let him tag along because he knew it would be safer than Natsume getting involved by himself. 

Keeping Natsume away from the exorcist business has been one of Natori’s primary motivations for most of the series. He knows it was wrong to involve him in such a dangerous world, and that Natsume should be able to grow up and try to live a normal life. This is what he wants for him. 

Natori especially grows concerned once Natsume gets involved with the Matoba clan, and he tries to interfere with them getting involved. The first time happened during the Kai arc. He specifically took the job from the Matoba clan to keep them away from where Natsume lives. He’s even unusually cold and harsh towards Natsume to try and dissuade him from being even remotely involved in the situation.

But then Natsume does get directly involved with Matoba very soon after this. It is especially the incident with Matoba’s letter that causes Natori to involve himself secretly. He finds out Natsume received a letter from Matoba, and decides to monitor the situation from a distance, using a paper doll to interfere when needed. He ultimately destroys the letter without Natsume’s knowledge. This is where we first see Natori’s desperate attempts to interfere in hopes of keeping Natsume safe. This then leads to the situation with the Book of Friends next time he shows up.

The Book of Friends

“Urihime. Natsume is carrying something that’s important to him. Find out what it is. Ginro made it sound like it’s something dangerous… that exorcists shouldn’t know about. Natsume is too nice and reckless. I wonder if it’s something he shouldn’t even have.”

“Such a dangerous thing… should be thrown into a fire.”

The situation with the Book of Friends is the other thing Natori has received a lot of hate for from the fandom. It was interpreted simply as a betrayal of trust and an action he took because he thought Natsume was too naive and innocent to be in possession of such an object. But was anyone considering the situation from Natori’s point of view?

Natori is an adult. Natsume is a child. Natsume is in possession of a dangerous forbidden object that attracts the attention of youkai, some of whom are hostile, and would attract the attention of most exorcists if they were to know about it. Natori is part of the community that both forbid the object, but which also contains many people who’d probably want it for themselves. Natori is understandably very protective of Natsume, and finding out about the Book of Friends was very troubling. It explains why he’s so involved with youkai, and it is a situation that puts him in danger quite often. 

Natori knew Natsume was hiding something after overhearing Ginro talk about the Book. And then later he saw how Natsume reacted to the matter of forbidden contracts. This gave him a pretty good idea as to what Natsume was secretly carrying. Natori knew he had to do something, even if it meant trying to find out about it behind Natsume’s back. In Natori’s mind and experience, it’s better to be deceptive and secretive than to wait until someone gets hurt.

Natori frankly is the only human who can protect Natsume from both youkai and the exorcist community. He also should take some responsibility for his safety, as he is an adult figure and also was the one who first dragged Natsume into the world of exorcism. 

It was arguably “wrong” to search for information on Natsume’s secret, but it also would be bad to just completely ignore his younger friend being in danger. It makes sense he felt it was very important to try and learn more about it.

Natori and Natsume

“Will you help me with my other job? Hmm… You’re speechless. I’m sorry. This must seem pretty sudden. I was just feeling happy. Do you get it now? You’re not alone. You and I are alike.”

“Natsume. Thank you. It made me happy… that you trusted me. For real. I want to be your friend. I want to help you. With all my heart. So… I… want you to keep this safe. I don’t think I could trust myself as much as you trusted me.”

Natori and Natsume’s relationship started off rough, but it’s probably gone through the most changes and growth out of all of the relationships in this series. In the beginning, Natori is harsh and cynical. He sees Natsume as being too naive and soft, and believes he needs to adopt Natori’s own ideas: that youkai are mostly bad and dangerous, and it’s best to take care of the particularly dangerous ones before they hurt people. He thinks if Natsume keeps his soft idealism, he’ll be in bad situations and have to regret it one day. 

But Natori continuously watches how kind and wonderful Natsume is, and he grows to deeply admire him for this. He still worries a lot about his safety and is skeptical of his relationship to youkai, but he’s nevertheless supportive, and would do anything to help him out. He quickly regrets how he got Natsume involved in a dangerous world, and is fiercely protective of him. Natsume grows very fond of Natori, and considers him a dear friend. 

In the beginning, Natori sees Natsume as someone who needs to be guided and changed and molded to fit his own ideas, but he gradually comes to see Natsume as a strong and kind person, and wants to be his equal and his friend. He also admires Natsume’s perseverance in staying connected to other people, something Natori gave up on. Natsume almost gave this all up after seeing Tanuma was hurt, and Natori is the one who told him he needs to hang on to these connections.

Despite how shaky their relationship started off, Natori has become a very kind and supportive friend who cares for Natsume deeply and is willing to help him no matter what. He has grown to respect him even though he didn’t understand him at first, and even admires him for his differences. Their friendship has become solid and reliable, and they have both started learning to be able to lean on each other for support.

Growth Between Natori and Matoba

“You’re quite right. But I like it my way. The Matoba clan has their ways… and I’m looking for my own way… the ideal I want to strive for. That’s my goal, even if I’m fighting in the dark.”

“I won’t pretend to know what it’s like… to bear the burden of the legacy you’ve had to shoulder. But I think… that these days, a person doesn’t have to bear it alone.”

Natori has shown a lot of growth in his recent interactions with Matoba.

Back when they fought a youkai together as teenagers, Natori thought he had failed. His spell barely worked, and Matoba was the one who killed the thing. When Matoba congratulated him for his help, Natori denied being of any use, saying Matoba was the one who took care of it. He couldn’t take care of things himself like he wanted, so he took that as a complete failure and denied any credit.

After getting locked in a room together as adults, Matoba once again thanks Natori for his help. Natori doesn’t deny it this time, and instead thanks Matoba for his help as well. He proceeds to tell him he thinks nowadays people don’t have to bear their burdens alone. This shows a lot of growth, compared to when he thought he failed for not being able to take care of a dangerous youkai by himself. Now he happily cooperates with people, both offering and accepting help. 

His interactions with Matoba as of late have also shown how patient he’s become. In the past, he responded to Matoba with frustration and irritability at anything that rubbed him the wrong way, even shoving him once. But then when Matoba chides him for having weak servants when they’re locked in the room, instead of getting angry, Natori calmly tells him he’s happy with how things are, and he’s still working on searching for the path he wants to follow. 

He’s still lost and unsure of things, but he’s accepted that he’s still working on himself, instead of wallowing in self-pity and feeling like a failure.

In the past, the two of them seemed to dance around each other, avoiding help and brushing off concern. Natori wanted to be far apart from him, while Matoba wanted a partner. Natori wanted to be of help, while Matoba brushed off the concern with a smile. In recent chapters, they have been working together efficiently, accepting and offering help. 

Natori is getting better at no longer stubbornly refusing help from others, and can accept that it’s better if people work on things together. 

Identity Issues

“I suppose there’s nothing riding on my shoulders. I wonder if… that’s why the world seems so unstable.”

Natori has an unstable sense of self. He’s unable to see himself clearly, struggling to see his virtues and strengths, being unsure of his personal values, and is very disconnected from both himself and others. 

He could also be interpreted as having alexithymia (inability to recognize or understand emotions in oneself, and also ties in to struggling to understand the emotions of others). He doesn't understand why he feels the way he does, and his emotions seem to have more of a physical reaction (saying he "feels sick") than being actually processed well. He seems to have a hard time understanding others' points of view and emotional responses as well.

Despite the identity disturbance, he does acquire strong goals. To become a powerful exorcist who doesn’t waver, and to be a kinder person who doesn’t hurt others. This is why discovering the exorcist community was such a pivotal moment in his life. He went from being driftless and detached to finding a strong purpose in life.

Natori faces a dilemma: he’s stubborn and doesn’t want to be shaped by someone else, but he also has a weak identity, leading him to be easily influenced by others. He wants to follow his own path, but still succumbs to some of the toxicity of the exorcist community. He describes his world as wavering. 

He doesn’t have any burdens like Matoba has. He has nothing tethering him to the world, and therefore he doesn’t know who he is, or who he’s supposed to be. He feels lost and disconnected. This is perhaps why the exorcist community is so enticing. It finally gives him a purpose in life, a goal to strive for. He now knows what he wants to be. But he still remains lost after this, and still struggles to figure out his path in life. 

However, in later chapters he seems to accept that he’s still searching for the path he wants to follow, and he’s determined to keep looking for it even if he makes mistakes along the way. He still struggles with his personal identity and his purpose in life, but he’s grown from his unsteadiness and fear he used to feel.

Deceptive Nature

“I’ve gotten too used to tricking people. You were having so much fun. I should have explained it to you. I’m sorry, Natsume. I’m really sorry.”

While he’s quick to admit he struggles with it, deceptive behavior is probably Natori’s most prominent and persistent flaw that still hasn’t completely gone away. He has a tendency to omit details, find out information in secret, or simply lie about things. This is also one of Natsume’s flaws, although they have some similar and different reasons for lying. 

Natsume’s reasons are generally for keeping his abilities and youkai a secret from others, which requires lying frequently. This is naturally something Natori also has to do. He and Natori both will come up with lies or stories in order to gather information. Natori will often find out information about people in secret, such as when he tried finding out about the Book of Friends behind Natsume’s back. He isn’t explicitly lying to Natsume, but he is being deceptive by intentionally gathering information about something important to Natsume without his knowledge. 

Something that Natori does that Natsume doesn’t is lying to get his own way. This mainly happened when he lied to Natsume about the situation with the hot springs, telling him he won the tickets in a contest and omitted the fact that he was actually going for an exorcism job. He also uses charm and wit to try and hide his true intentions at times. 

Natori, like Natsume, has had to learn to lie in order to survive in a society that won’t believe what he’s gone through. However, even though he found a community that sees what he can, he has to become a worse liar to survive there as well. It’s ironic, as Natori believed it would be a community where he wouldn’t have to lie. But sadly the exorcist community is full of back-stabbing and trickery, and Natori’s had to pick up these skills himself. 

Fortunately, he is well aware he’s struggled with these things and is working on unlearning them. He has been becoming a more sincere person for Natsume, and they’re both getting better at not hiding important things from each other anymore.

Relationship to People

“I’m not looking down on anyone. It’s just that… when your perceptions are different, conversations don’t mesh. And it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Natori is asocial, and strongly avoids being close to other people. He doesn't seem to mind being around other people, but personal interactions are kept at a minimum. It seems he avoids actually mingling with any of his coworkers from either job, despite being friendly and charming to them. He lives alone and lacks close friends, only having professional or casual relationships. 

Natsume becomes the one exception. But the reason this happened is that Natsume was easy and safe. He’s young (young being something adults equate with being impressionable), he has similar trauma as Natori, he can see youkai, and he isn’t part of the exorcist community. Additionally, Natori didn’t originally approach Natsume as a friend (despite wanting this), but as a potential mentor to him. Natori presented himself as someone who could teach Natsume a lot about youkai, and how to protect himself and others. So Natori at first sees him as someone he can shape and guide. 

There are natural boundaries between Natsume and Natori that keep them at a safe distance. They are almost a decade apart in age, they live in different towns, Natsume is a student, Natori is an adult with two jobs. Natsume is someone he can be familiar with and fond of, while still maintaining a safe distance. Being friends with people his own age would have higher risk of them trying to form a closer, more emotionally intimate connection with less excuses to escape. Natsume is someone further in age he lives away from and only has a chance to see on occasion. He doesn’t risk having constant inescapable contact. Ironically, it’s because of all these boundaries that Natsume is easier to approach and form a bond with. 

Matoba is a different story. He’s a similar age, has an almost opposite background, wants to be the one to shape and guide Natori, and lives nearby and is part of the same community. He is also more skilled and experienced. This is troublesome for Natori. He doesn’t want to be close to him, and actively chooses to be apart from him. He doesn’t want to be shaped by someone else, the way he wanted to shape Natsume when they first met. The idea of being close to someone his own age who’s both so different and yet also similar is a terrifying prospect to him, so he stays away from Matoba. 

Natori faces a dilemma where he can't be close to people without sight, because he's too uncomfortable being with others who can't see the same world as him, but he also can't be with others like him due to his family being resented by his community. This again is why Natsume is the one safe person he feels kinship with. Someone who can see his world clearly, but who isn't a part of the community that looks down on him.

Natori is scared of being hurt and affected by others, but also scared of hurting others. So he waits until he finds the "perfect" person he thinks he can find a true kindred spirit in. But they still struggle to get along and Natori ends up being hurtful multiple times. This thankfully doesn't deter him, and instead he finally challenges himself to maintain and form a friendship despite the difficulties and despite making damaging mistakes. He remains determined and doesn't give up, and he always tries to make amends.

Famous Actor

Natori’s acting career ties into both his issues with his identity and his asociality. When you act, you get to wear someone else’s face. People see the character, not you. This works perfectly for Natori, and gives him the means of connecting with people without having to risk any intimacy or actual closeness. He receives love and attention and praise, but doesn’t have to lose anything by giving himself in return. He gets to be different faces on screen and be pretty and popular and beloved, but he can avoid having to get close to anyone. 

Again, Natori doesn’t mind being around people, it’s the actual closeness and conversations that make him uncomfortable. He’s happy to walk and talk with passing fans and receive congratulations from his movie coworkers, but he stays away from anything beyond that. He also is averse to being vulnerable. Acting is considered a vulnerable job, but the thing is, it's a safe vulnerability. The audience is watching the character, not you, even if you’re pouring yourself into the character.

Acting also provides a sort of temporary identity. You get to put a mask on and play out an imaginary scripted person. You can lean on your own experiences while being a completely different person. It's a safe and guarded way to explore human nature and personal identity. Perfect for someone who struggles to see themselves clearly.

Problems with the Fandom

“He’s always dragging Natsume into his exorcism business!”: I already went over this a lot. He got him involved a couple times and realized very early on this was wrong and apologized. He has spent most of the series trying to keep him from getting involved.

“He’s an asshole!”: He was mean several times and apologized each time. He’s mostly a kindhearted and gentle and supportive person.

“He’s a liar!”: So is Natsume.

“He wants to change Natsume and tries to push his views onto him!”: He did at first, but realized it was wrong and has come to deeply admire Natsume and respect his differences.

Conclusion

Natori is a very fleshed out and well-written character in Natsume Yuujinchou. He has a lot of flaws, but that just means he’s had even more positive growth as a character. He goes from being harsh and cynical to being a very kind and supportive friend to Natsume. His similarities and differences to Natsume make him an intriguing character in the series and his relationship with Natsume to me is one of the most interesting parts in the story. He’s sadly received a lot of hate and backlash from the fandom, mostly due to misinterpretations of his character. Thankfully it’s gotten a lot better, but I think it’s important in the fandom space to discuss these things in detail instead of misreading everything and jumping to conclusions. 

[vinnyvamppp]

i feel a little pathetic dragging myself here but do you have advice for writing mark smut 😟 i feel a little lost for him and i dunno

I'm surprised, considering your recent post was jaw-dropping, but I'll give the pointers I remind myself of. From the comics to the show, he's someone who feels everything hard, so let that bleed into the smut. Is he hesitant? Overwhelmed? A little too eager? There’s a lot of room to play, and it’s all about emotional push-pull dynamics.

Now, this also depends on the era the character is in. If we were following the show's current timeline, he's emotionally intense, sometimes awkward, and very in his own head—especially in intimate moments (usually beforehand). So when writing smut, don't be afraid to let him overthink, stumble over words, or act with that raw and youthful sincerity. He’s stubborn, but VERY WILLING most times and is a quick learner. He's had his confident moments too, so let those shine, usually through facial expressions or dialogue like, "I thought fighting Viltrumites was hard, but trying not to kiss you right now? Impossible.” He’s charming in a dorky way, overthinking, blushing, then blurting out something too honest. Flirty lines from Mark usually carry a “I can’t believe this is happening” energy with a charmingly corny edge, or even some humor. ... He also canonically uses, "Oh, God." as a form of expression in bed which can be pretty funny. (he likes calling out his partners names too. Source: trust me bro.) ~~~~~~~~~

That being said, if we're deciding to focus on his later arc—which I won't delve too much into for the sake of avoiding spoilers—he’s becoming a compelling mix and leaning into the median of his identity. He's still deeply human, though, and he doesn’t want to dominate; he wants to rebuild. He's also still Viltrumite. When pushed, and when threatened, he’s capable of terrifying things. He no longer flinches at morally gray ideologies, but he mourns every loss in its stride. He loves everything he has, but he's quieter now.

Emotionally, Mark is more closed off from a combination of traumatic experiences, but he's still desperate for connection. He is a character who uses his power to serve his partner rather than subjugate them. He's a character with a lot of strife, so make intimate moments feel heavy—like he's memorizing them because they may not last. Moments of softness or desire should be incredibly charged. Does he cry still? Now, just because he's an emperor doesn’t mean he no longer cries and is suddenly stoic. He does, and depending on the plot of your story, feel free to incorporate it. He's wiser now, more experienced; he knows what drives his partner wild, and I could see him putting his partner's pleasure here before his own. ~~~~~~~~~

During sex sequences, you can always include descriptors of feelings and paint the scene so the reader can visualize what's on paper—or, more importantly, his perception. How does he feel? How does the reader feel physically? What does this compare to? Sensory interpretations (touch, sight, taste, and sound)? What does it mean to him in that moment? Is he trembling from restraint or shaking from how overwhelmed he is? Is his heartbeat too loud in his ears to focus, or is he hypersensitive to every breath they take? Is this the first time he’s felt peace in weeks, or the only moment where he doesn’t have to be a leader or fighter? And go on to complete your usual writing from the reader's perspective as well. It’s truly up to you! (The variants are truly up to interpretation) I hope I'm making sense LMFAO.

This is getting really long (literally why my fics are always 2.5k+ the need to explain is REAL)... so I'll only continue if needed, but hopefully this helped some! I literally just started word vomiting, sorry. Please take this with a grain of salt and make any desired changes!! (I'm sure yours will be great) Now this doesn't include smut dialogue, but can give you a feel for his main attributes as a character. I've caught wind of a few creators reposting it, though I haven't finished the entire analysis myself at the time: https://www.tumblr.com/batsovergotham/782055318627729408/𝗛𝗼𝘄-𝘁𝗼-𝗪���𝗶𝘁𝗲-𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸-𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻-a-detailed-guide

[anticanonsposts]

heyyyyy

can you do sum with the task force 141 going out to train in a BIG ASS field but Yn used to be a cheerleader so she starts busting out handspring’s and the 141 is just flabbergasted

also I LUV YOUR HEAD CANNONS SM

mwaaa !!

ok yes ofc babe, i did make it slightly könig centric, but still included a few of the other guys 

Cw: none?? sfw allusion to sexual behaviors at the end a little bit so a little nsfw

Sooooo

141 gets to the newest training facility and there happens to be a very large open several acre sized field that you can only imagine is going to be used for some horrific suicide runs or drills of some sort

after everyone gets settled, and trained on what they will be doing when recruits arrive the next day you all go out to the field for lunches

you ofc sit with your affectionately named ‘bunk buddy’ König, who you weren’t officially dating because of fear it might negatively affect your jobs but you guys banged like bunnies and he was completely enamored with you

anyways

you’re minding your own business, eating your sandwich, listening to König ramble on about some new obstacle drill he wants to try out when you hear maybe the cockiest out of the 141, Soap, get a little too noisy

‘Mate there is no way you could do backflips on this terrain….My arse soap!!!’ 

clearly the men a few feet away were having a heated debate on each other’s skill sets

getting a wicked idea, you continue eating your lunch, listening to König, tell yourself that you won’t go there, its not worth it

that is until Ghost gets a little too boisterous saying ‘oh you really think anyone here can do that? That would take years of training dumbass’ he was directing his speech towards Soap and Price but he did say ‘anyone here’ 

calmly you ask König if you can show him something cool, and of course he says yes

So you get up and try to remember a combination that you often did when you were younger during cheer practice 

Taking one last deep breath you perform a mix of front flips, back handsprings, twists, turns, you name it before landing dozens of feet away from where you started

when i say it was silent

it was deafening 

peripherally you could see nearly everyone’s mouth completely agape, other than Ghoast whose jaw is clenched out of what you can only imagine is pure jealousy

it felt good, you won’t lie, to be envied, for your skills to be on display

you felt like you were still having to prove yourself, your worth, your skills for the group 

then with a shit eating grin, not looking at anyone else you sauntered back up to König who had stood up at this point, grabbed his hand and started making your way back to the facility

all you could hear behind you were explanations of ‘bloody hell, oh my god, I can’t believe it, eat shit ghost’

‘You truly are a marvel’ könig says looking down at you, shyly grinning

‘Why don’t i show you other ways I can be that flexible’ you reply which makes this man audibly gulp as you skip with him to your room 

hehe i hope this was at least kind of what you wanted (i truly don’t know shit about the other characters lol) 

that being said, my requests are still open <3333

[traincat]

Did you say you were working on an Ultimate Johnny/Peter fic? I can’t remember if that was real or if I dreamed it.

It's 50% an Ultimate Johnny/Peter fic, in that Johnny is Ultimate Johnny and Peter is from a 616-adjacent AU of my own creation. (Nothing against Ultimate Peter particularly, it's just that the story I wanted to write with this fic worked better with a Peter with a different background.)

(I did also recently post 13.5k of unfinished Ultimate JohnnyBobby fic over here, and it has background unrequited Ultimate Spideytorch.)

I've had this idea for ages, wrote a couple thousand words, scrapped it for a few years. Threw it out there as a WIP I was willing to post but then backed out because when I looked at it again it turns out I actually do really want to write it.

The basic premise is this: When Secret Wars (2015)'s incursions destroyed the Marvel multiverse, and after Franklin and the Molecule Man start putting them back together, Franklin stumbles upon the Ultimate version of his uncle and, instead of removing him from existence or restoring his old universe, he sends him to another universe instead, hoping he'll be happier there.

This universe is very similar to 616 canon re: around just after Peter graduates college and enters grad school, but with a few key differences. The biggest departure is that Harry is Peter's dead college love instead of Gwen. (I love to play mix and match with the college fivesome in general ngl but I think Harry lends himself to a roleswap with Gwen particularly well.) Another difference is that I wanted to pull from Bullet Points, which is a miniseries in which, among other things, the rocket launch fails, and Reed is the only survivor, leading him to a Nick Fury-esque role. So Johnny knows who Peter is, but Peter has no framework for Johnny.

Peter, having intentionally isolated himself from pretty much everyone in the wake of Harry's death, follows what looks like a falling star, and finds Johnny. I did want to play with a whole "two other worlds" thing, literally, with Johnny in a whole new universe that might be kinder to him -- and with a Peter who might look back at him -- and Peter, isolating himself in his grief, needing someone warm and bright to break him out of his self-imposed isolation.

The problem is that I like the concept but what I had written for it needs to be ripped up by the carpet. Full remodel. So right now I'm working on some other fic, including another Spideytorch fic, and I'm just kind of reassessing and building out a bigger outline for this one.

I'm probably ripping all of this up and rewriting it but a couple of snips under the cut.

Then he saw the scars. The top set was half hidden by the robe’s hem, perfectly circular. There was another set a few inches beneath. Peter couldn’t figure out what would make scars like those, but they were definitely scars, relatively new and shiny.

“Peter?” Johnny said.

Peter looked up, guilty, but Johnny hadn’t seemed to notice the staring. He was still scrubbing at his own hair, gaze on the floor.

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” he asked.

Harry had used to wear his clothes to bed. He’d liked how it made him feel, he’d said. Safe, he’d said. “It smells like you,” he’d said, tossing Peter that grin over his shoulder.

(...)

Peter sighed, tipping his head back. “Would you believe he came from another universe?”

“There’s not a lot I won’t believe,” Felicia said. “But I’ll admit it was a shock when I came in through your window and there was a man restocking your sad excuse for a fridge. The fire show was a neat surprise, too.”

“He lit up?” Peter said, surprised.

“A little. He’s very protective of you,” Felicia purred. Her tone of voice was light; her gaze was an accusation.

“It’s not like that,” Peter said.

“He’s in your kitchen, making you dinner,” Felicia said. “He’s wearing your clothes. It looks a whole lot like that, lover.”

“He fell from another universe into this one, Felicia, he doesn’t exactly have a full wardrobe,” Peter said.

“He’s in your home,” Felicia said, dropping the pretense. Her tone was cutting. “That doesn’t happen. You don’t do that.”

It was the opposite problem, with Felicia. For once it was her, not him. He could be with Felicia for an afternoon, for a night. Any longer and her bad luck powers would start tripping him up.

The look on her face told him she was thinking the same thing.

“He knew me in his home universe,” Peter said, drumming his fingers restlessly on fire escape railing. “He hasn’t said it yet, but I’m pretty sure I died on him.”

Felicia’s face fell.

“Oh, Peter,” she said. “You can’t feel guilty over something like that.”

“No, 'Licia,” he said. “It pretty much turns out that I can.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the very first night

words: 700

warnings: toxic work environment

you’re rushing as quickly as you can, balancing two drink carriers, filled with coffee, some piping hot, others iced. you took everyones orders before you left the office, knowing if you didn’t get back quickly, before the ice had melted is what one of the bosses has said, that you would get in trouble. you were already running behind, the starbucks being incredibly busy.

you blame your nerves for not looking where you’re going. you briefly think that you’ve walked into a telephone pole, or maybe a street sign, but you realize mid fall it’s a hard body. you land on the ground, the drinks flying out of your arms, raining down on you in a mix of espresso and chocolate.

“fuck!” the figure shouts. somehow you missed getting any of your coffee on him, but his own coffee did spill a bit on his shirt, ruining the crisp white button down.

“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t looking i-” you can’t even finish your sentence as you let out a sob. the stress of your internship, mixing with his mishap, has you unable to hold back tears. 

“are you hurt?” the man bends down, and you get a real look at him through your tears. he’s handsome, probably close in age to yourself, with sandy blonde hair falling on either side of his forehead.

you shake your head no, but let out another sob, and it looks like he doesn’t believe you, giving a scan over your body. 

“i’m not mad.” he says, grabbing some of the coffee cups that now litter the ground, attempting to put them back in the carrier, but you know it’s pointless. too much time has passed and too much has spilled. you’re no doubt going to be fired from your internship.

“it’s not that.” you shake your head, trying to fling some of the coffee off your clothes. pointless. “that-” you have to take a deep breath to prevent yourself from crying again. “that was all for work. i’m an intern and they’re going to fire me now.” 

the man frowns, brows creasing together. “they’re going to fire you for an accident?” he asks, and you just nod. you know they will. they were a fast paced company, and don’t accept mistakes.

“i’m sorry.” the man sighs, then sticks out his hand. “i’m rafe.” “y/n.” you mutter his name, shaking his hand. you move to your feet, rafe rising with you. you look down out your outfit, brown splotches all over your previously pink dress.

“what company is this that would fire an intern for not bringing coffee back quick enough?” rafe asks.

you tell him the name, starting to pick up the cups to throw them in the trash. no point even going back now. you don’t want to face anyone, looking like this.

the corners of rafes mouth fall down into a frown. he helps throw a couple of the cups into a nearby trash can, including his own. he doesn’t feel like drinking it anymore.

“sorry again about your shirt.” you say with a sigh.

“it’s really no problem.” the shirt looks expensive, but rafe also looks like the type of guy to be able to afford staining a nice shirt.

“well. time to go figure out what i’m going to do with my life now.” it’s not like you enjoyed interning at that company anyways, and you certainly don’t want to work there full time, but it was your plan for the summer until college starts.

“hey.” rafe stops you before you can walk away. “let me give you my number, yeah? you can let me know how it turns out and i know a lot of the businessmen in town. i can help you find a better internship.”

“really?” you squeak. “you’d do that for me?” 

“of course”

-- three months later --

“rafe!” you shout, running up to him. you hold your phone in your hand, and read the headline out loud “cameron enterprises buys local company.”

rafe just smirks. “mhm.” “you bought the company that fired me. i know it was you who convinced your dad.” “it’s a good business move.” rafe shrugs. you’re not entirely sure how true that is. the company certainly wasn’t a serious competitor.

“but that’s not why was it?” you ask.

“not at all.” rafe smiles full on now, pulling you into him, pressing a kiss against your lips. “as soon as i saw the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen sitting on the ground, crying and covered in coffee, i knew i would end that company.”

[rebelliousstories]

Stockings

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: David x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, David being David

Word Count: 1,457

Masterlist: Here

Summary: This was NOT what he had in mind when someone mentioned “stockings.”

David did not know what he was thinking. He did not know how he got here, yet here he was. He meant to be on the boardwalk with his brothers, and lover, enjoying a night of mischief and fun. But here he was. Where was here exactly? A Christmas pop up stall on the boardwalk. When his lover came to him and asked him if he wanted to help her pick out stockings, he had a totally different idea in mind. Now, he was trailing after the girl awkwardly in the store. She picked up a navy blue stocking with gold embellishments and turned towards the vampire behind her.

“Do you think Laddie will like this?” She asked, eyes watching his face intently.

“Sure.” The response was so dry from him that she leveled an unimpressed look with her lover.

“Could you at least pretend to like this stuff?” She questioned, turning back to the stockings in front of her.

“No, I can’t.” David quipped, looking around to see if he could disappear into the night away from the candy canes and glitter.

“Listen,” she turned back around, “if you help me picking out stockings for everyone to put up in the cave, including your own, I’ll make it worth while. But you need to pretend for as long as we’re in the store.” Her offer was tempting; but David being David, pushed a little closer to the edge.

“Worth my while, huh? Meaning anything I want?” He teased, reaching a hand up and caressing her cheek with gloved fingertips. Her look turned bashful for a moment before she returned to her usual expression when dealing with David; mild annoyance mixed with flirty.

“Sure, Davey. Anything you want to make this worth your while.” She purred, getting closer to him and leaning up against his chest. Her hands ran up his chest, resting right at the top hem of his shirt and staring him dead in the eyes. Crystal blue eyes barred right back into her own, but neither moved.

“Fine. I’ll pretend for you.” David relented, resting his hands on her waist with a squeeze. She turned back excitedly to the decorations in front of her, and began her perusing once more. David allowed her to drag him around the store, and entertained her with comments and input on whatever she grabbed.

“Really? Glitter?”

“No. Get Paul the pink one.”

“Dwayne might like the tiger on that. Get it.”

Once he started pretending to like that stuff, the less he had to act. David found himself enjoying offering the comments and critiques to his girlfriend. He liked joking around with her and messing around with the garland hanging around the aisles. She would giggle anytime he messed around, and laugh when he would make jokes. It was nice to see her lover pretending to enjoy himself. It was almost to the point where she truly believed he was having a good time with her.

Eventually, with bags a plenty, the couple left the Christmas shop to head back to the cave. Arriving at the boardwalk again, she had to fight to keep Marko and Paul's hands from getting inside said bags.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, slapping both of their hands before they could get to close. The vampires let out small whines when they got hit, making David chuckle at them.

“Hands away. You'll find out tonight when we put them up. Behave.” Her words made the boys perk up again. Everyone made their way to the bikes, and she had to situate herself on the back of David's while still holding on to the bags. Star saddled up to Marko as Laddie went to Dwayne. The pack made their way down the beach, screaming and whopping into the chilly air of the night. Arriving at Hudson's Bluff, Dwayne made Laddie help carry some of the bags of Christmas decorations down into the cave. David led his lover down the steps while Marko and Paul kept rough housing behind them.

Stockings of all different varieties were pulled from the bags before abortions could stop the terror twins. And they were in awe.

“Everyone, stockings! Come and get ‘em!” Marko cheered as he excitedly tore apart the bags to get a good look at each one. He set the patchwork quilt style one aside, knowing immediately that was his. Marko gave Star the bright pink one with glitter on it, only to be given a dry “thanks” and a disappointed look on her face. David chuckling made both of them stop.

“That's not Star's, Marko.” He got out in between chuckles, but the vampire was still confused. He looked at the stockings they had, and quickly found the one with the moon and sun drawn in an astrological style. Marko gave that one to the female, who had a much happier expression this time around. He pointed the bright pink stocking towards the girl who was now sat on David's lap. The blonde vampire's face held a smirk and shook his head, looking over to the other blonde in the group.

“Oh hell no.” Paul exclaimed, coming over to snatch the stocking out of Marko's hands. Turning to face her lover, she gave a ridiculous look to David who merely shrugged as he went to light a cigarette. Paul was digging through the bags, looking for another stocking that seemed to belong to him. But he dropped them when he saw there were none. He seemed to come to terms with it pretty quickly.

“Oh well, not the worst thing. Honestly, it looks like something I saw on acid once. Least I didn't get David's stocking.” And then he ran away before said vampire could ask him what he means. David was now curious about Paul's statement, but tried to hide it as best he could.

Marko held up an intricate looking stocking, with a Bengal tiger embroidered on the front. There was light bead work all around the stocking, but nothing could draw Dwayne's eyes away from the ornate artwork on the front. He could not take his eyes from the stocking as he turned to go sit down, and almost ran into Laddie who had made his way over to receive his.

“Here you are, little dude.” Laddie grabbed his navy blue and gold stocking excitedly, and ran over to Dwayne to share their stockings. And then there were two. Marko did not even bother taking them out of their bags, he just brought it over to the couple, and left.

Now, they sat in the chair together, with a single bag between them. She was encouraging him to open the bag first.

“Go on, David. Open it.” The vampire held an unimpressed look, but amused his lover. He reached down into the bag and pulled out a stocking with a dark red rose on it. However, she grabbed it.

“That would be mine. Go on.” Her smile overtook her face and she was almost buzzing where she sat. What David pulled out next, confused him. It was a black stocking, with no embellishments, yet held a blood red trim. He was confused because there were no stockings at that shop that looked like that, even though they only looked at the stockings in that shop that were of alternative designs. His confusion must have washed over his face deep enough that his lover was speaking up.

“I wanted yours to be a surprise since I knew you'd be coming with me. So I went during the day today and got this one for them to hold till I got the others tonight with you.” She explained, watching his face for any sign of discomfort or anger. But all she found was wonder. David was a man of few words, and that did not change now. No, now, he turned their heads together and joined them. Pouring all the love he could not say with words into this kiss, keeping his girlfriend pressed against him. When he eventually let her up for air he did not need, she held a dizzying smile.

“What was that for?” She asked dreamily, staring into the pastel blue wires of her lover.

“Just the fact that you did that. Means a lot.” David sealed his words with yet another kiss that she was quick to end.

“Look inside.” Her whisper enticed him. Reaching his hand inside the stocking, like she said, there was something there. David started to pull out whatever was inside, but stopped quickly. He saw black fishnet material and turned to his lover with an impish grin. She merely matched his expression.

“Told you I'd make it worth your while.” Now that was his kind of stocking.

[lofitojii]

To Be Loved: Part 1

Summary: Your heart never knew it was capable of intense feelings for someone else. You thought that maybe life would've been easier if you never met him that night, if you had just ignored him in that alley. That thought crossed your mind constantly, consuming every good thing that had happened up to this point. This was never meant to be easy, and deep within, you knew involving yourself in his life was going to be complicated.

word count: 4.1k

WARNING: THIS SERIES INCLUDES 18+ CONTENT!

𓆩♡𓆪•.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.••.¸♡ ♡¸.•𓆩♡𓆪

When I was younger, I had the constant reminder that love was hard to find with those who were in and out of it around me. Love was harsh, unforgiving, mentally exhausting to endure. I remember seeing my poor mother sobbing on the back porch, deep inhales from her Newport cigarette being heard through the cracked windows of our kitchen, the smell lightly seeping through the screen. I didn’t hate that smell.

She never really talked about who broke her heart but more ask “Why me?” or “What did I do now?” I remember some nights she would come home late, sending home the sweet teenage neighbour or on some nights, our aunt who I remember was a very strong figure in my childhood. The deep sigh Auntie would make when she would embrace my mother in her arms, small hushes trying to mask the sound of the silent sobs. “You can’t let these men keep treating you like this.” Those words lingered heavily throughout those nights. 

Looking back on these specific moments, my heart aches for the single mother, sitting outside alone in the dark. She preferred it that way though, and I don’t really blame her. But one thing about my mother was that she never gave up on what she thought love meant to her. The next morning, Stevie Nicks would be blasting in the kitchen, doors wide open as she smoked inside our house, waving it around as if the smoke were to cleanse the unwanted thoughts we knew she had about what happened. It was just me and my older brother through most of our childhood. Mom never really committed after our father left, not until we were both teenagers, old enough to finally grasp onto something of what she was going through. 

His name was Aiko, tall, handsome, and an artist in our community. She met him one night at the bar she used to work at on weekends when she was trying to save up for my brother to get into college. I remember him being kind, soft spoken. He treated my mother to many things, including fine dining, extravagant adventures around Asia, lavish hotels and exhibits. He was good to my mother and we also loved him, so dearly. They were perfect right up until the very end when he shielded both us and our mother from that night. If only the events had turned out differently. If only she had survived, if only they both had been able to survive.

“Stay here and do not leave by any means. Do you promise me Y/N?” His eyes filled with tears, sweat mixing with crimson liquid as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His palm caressed my cheek, so gently, so lovingly. “I will help you but you have to promise me you’ll stay here until I do. Please…” He pleaded, his voice heavily concerned. I nodded, tears flowing, blurring my vision. He pushed me further into the dark crevice of the basement, whispering ‘I love you’ as he closed off my vision with one of his paintings. 

The night dragged on, loud bangs and thuds coming from right above me. I knew what was happening but I didn’t want to believe it. I sat and prayed to the God I had never spoken to before in hopes he would hear my calling for him in this desperate time of need. Eventually, it fell silent. I could hear the rain tapping gently against the roof, my mind wavering between sitting here and waiting or seeking help myself. 

But I promised. I told him I wouldn’t move. So I didn’t. 

That was 10 years ago, I’m 25 now, living on my own, a couple blocks away from my older brother. He visits me often, brings me dinner, studies in my kitchen until early hours of the morning, sometimes being found on my living room couch. I don’t mind, I find comfort in having my brother around. But for us to have our own independence after relying so much on each other for so many years, we had agreed to keep it this way. 

“Y/N?” a small knock came from the other side, his gentle voice seeping through the crack in my bedroom door. I closed my journal, placing it down on my side table. “Are you hungry? I was hungry and made and omlette and also kinda sorta made you one too.” I smiled as he walked in, placing the plate down in front of me before hopping into the empty spot next to my side. 

“Even if I wasn’t hungry you wouldn’t care.” He just smiled and laid his head down on the pillow behind him. 

“Do you work tonight?” I nodded, taking a bite of the food in front of me. My brother really was an incredible cook, something he picked up from our mother. “Then tomorrow, do you want to go to that new bar with me? Couple of friends are meeting up, I think it would be good to get out.”

“From one bar to another?” I joked. He rolled his eyes, his gaze pressuring me for an answer. “I’ll go, but I’m only staying for an hour or two. I won't be home until 4 AM tomorrow and I don’t know how much bar environment I can handle.” 

“Why a bar?” 

“Choso,” I sighed, finishing the last bite of the breakfast he had made me. “I make really good money, meet lots of people, have the ins and outs of the night life in this city. It’s a good job for me and I really enjoy it.” The look on his face was something I was all too familiar with. “Choso.” 

“What!” He huffed, throwing his head face down into the pillow. Shaking my head I reached for my own pillow, throwing it over his head receiving a small grunt being muffled through the fabric. He finally sat up, bringing the pillows back to their proper places. “I just think you have other options you should consider for a better future.” 

“What, like the art school?” 

“Y/N they sought YOU out! That doesn’t just happen to anyone! Not to mention it’s the same place-” I lifted my finger over my lips, halting him from finishing his sentence. “I’m just saying.” 

“And I’m just saying I’m 25 and have time to figure out what I want to do. As for right now though, Maki is waiting for me to come join her for half price shots. Not to mention the big fight happened tonight so the bar is probably packed, I should leave within the hour.” Choso gave me an all too familiar look, brows furrowed, pouty lips. I know he means well with what he says to me but, to be honest, it’s something I’m not ready to address yet. “You’re more than welcome to come help out tonight. I know Nanami wouldn’t mind the extra hands.” 

“What and get worked to the bone again just to be paid with under the table tips?” I took the pillow in my hands once more, this time hurling it right in his face. 

“Out.” I motioned towards the door. “Are you coming or not?” 

“I’ll go.” 

The bar I worked at was an underground dive bar located in downtown Shibuya. It was a quick 5 minute walk down the street from my place, right next to the local fighting event center. That was the big thing here in the city, the fights weren’t regulated, completely free style fighting. It was the place to make a name for yourself in this city when it came to fighting, big names started off as small street fighters here. Being that we were the closest bar to the center, made us a very hot spot for the fighters, girlfriends, groupies, stage crew, and college students all alike. 

“What’s it looking like tonight?” I yelled over the loud music blaring in the background of the empty bar. Stamping my card, Choso shimmied his way behind me, locking hands with one of our servers. From behind them, I could see Maki making her way towards me, annoyance written across her face. 

“Big fight happened tonight so Nanami is calling all hands on deck.” She took a smoke out of the pack she kept in her back pocket, offering me one. Placing the stick between my lips, she leaned hers against mine, igniting the borrowed cigarette. The harsh vapor hit the back of my throat, burning ever so slightly. 

“Who won?” I asked, stacking cups behind the bar as Maki stocked popular liquor choices. I could feel a lump in my throat as she placed Bacardi in its preferred spot. 

“Who do you think?” She smirked, putting her smoke out in the drain in front of us. “Alright boys!” She climbed up on the counter, gathering the attention of all the employees in the bar. “There are gonna be a lot of fighters here tonight along with a lot of cops patrolling the area. This is not our first rodeo and I expect tonight to go like any other! You know the rules, you know what to do if a bitch gets out of line so I plan on everyone doing their part tonight.” Maki was the unofficial manager of this place. Nanami doesn’t believe in giving titles out because we’re all here to help each other, the family method. But she’s the only one he trusts enough to leave alone in the bar without him. She was good at it, I admired her a lot for how she can step up to authority so effortlessly.  

10 PM hit and the place was crowded, music blasting from every corner. They weren’t kidding when they said tonight was a sold out show. As the night went on, drinks came and went from my station. The laughs got louder, the drinks got sloppier. 

“What can I get you?” I asked, staring at the couple in front of me. The woman had on a cherry red lip, matching what I would assume was a wig. Her eye makeup shimmering under the strobe lights of the bar. Her partner had a single white stripe, swooping in front of eyes. He had a singular tooth gem on one of his canines, which he didn’t mind showing off. 

“Two stouts and a shot for the winner over there,” he said pointing at the man in the corner who had drinks thrown his way all night. Dark features, broad shoulders. I couldn’t get a good look at his face but I knew exactly who he was. 

“Mai! Another shot for the big one in the corner,” I yelled, sliding the small glass in her direction. “Hey Maki, I’m going out for a smoke.” She nodded, taking the two customers from in front of me. 

Tonight was overwhelming to say the least. Fight nights were always busy but tonight felt a little different. I knew the Fushiguro guy was the talk of the town but I didn’t think he would conjure up this big of a crowd. I slid my phone out of my pocket, planning on doing a quick google search of tonight's fight. “Toji Fushiguro,” I whispered under my breath the exhale of the cigarette smoke. Black hair, scar on his lip, fantastic figure. He looked the part of street fighter, little to no history on his backstory either. “Small town outside Tokyo, has a son huh.” Suddenly, the light that illuminated over me became dark, the heat from someone’s body could be felt very close, almost as if they had pressed themselves up against my back. “Hey man.” 

“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping to the side. “Do you have a smoke?” I turned around coming face to face with his broad chest. My eyes traced up his shirt, the smell of sweat with the masking of burnt sandalwood burning my nostrils. 

“Oh uh yeah sorry.” I opened my half empty box of camel crushes. He smirked, letting out a little huff. 

“Candy cigarettes,” he joked, taking the lighter from my hands. The wic flickered, but nothing lit. Over and over his thumb ran across the spike wheel, but nothing was happening. His eyes darted from the lighter to the cigarette lit in my hand. I placed it between my lips, inhaling as he leaned in to light his own, mimicking the actions of what I did with Maki earlier. Not once did his gaze leave mine as the smoke began to kindle. I could feel my heartbeat surge through my entire body, sensitive to the bitter night breeze trapped in the small alley. He leaned back, his smile barely visible through his pursed lips. He could tell what he was doing. 

“They’re the only ones that don’t taste like ass after having several throughout the day.” I quickly turned my head away from his, trying not to let his aura have such an effect on me, but I was completely in a daze ‘cause of him. 

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” He finally leaned back fully, letting the spotlight illuminate his face instead of hiding it. His skin glistened, the smell of liquor lingering with smoke he had placed between his lips. He was… gorgeous? “What?” He smirked again, looking down at my dumbfounded face. I could feel my cheeks get hot, flushing from his intense gaze that would fluster anyone he looked at. “Let me guess,” he slurred, placing his arm above my head. “Nervous?” 

“No,” I huffed back, avoiding eye contact with the beautiful man in front of me. “Just thinking about how all these strong smells don't mask your cheap bath and body works cologne.” He let out a low chuckle, reaching down and smelling his own shirt. His eyes shifted, lit by the lowlights of the outside smoking area. His consuming gaze felt like he was putting pressure on my whole body. 

“The girl at the mall said it was charming.” He lifted the smoke up to his lips, taking a deep inhale. “What’s your name?” Why was I hesitating so much to speak to him? Was it his aura? Was it because of his cheap cologne? Was it because he was almost double my size and leaning over me a considerable amount? “I’m Toji.” He took one last deep inhale of the smoke he had snagged from me, crushing the bud under his foot. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He pointed to my name tag that was half hidden by the jacket I had on. I quickly pulled it closed, turning around to avoid any more conversation with the intimidating man in front of me. 

“Maybe with that big paycheck you got from tonight's fight, you could invest in something that doesn’t stain the nose so badly.” I could feel him let out a deep chuckle behind me before hearing the door slam shut. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, I finally relaxed my shoulders from the oh so stiff posture I had been holding. I didn’t realize how nervous I actually was until I was left with the heavy atmosphere he had left behind.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You look a little pale.” I looked up meeting the familiar face of my older brother, his expression written with concern. I nodded, tossing the bud of my own smoke into the garbage. I followed Choso back into the bar, immediately losing him in the crowd of people as I struggled to get back to my post. Maki met me with a grasp on the shoulder, switching spots so she could go take a break herself.

As the night went on, we cut people off signaling we closed within the hour which caused small groups to leave in rotations. “Thank god,” Maki sighed, leaning her back against the counter. “Nights like these go back so fast but not fast enough.” 

“Maki, Y/N,” Nanami called over in our direction. “Are you guys staying tonight for drinks?” We both nodded, looking forward to our tradition of staff hang out after a big night. During this time we usually have a round of beers, the regular Nanami speech about how he appreciates our hard work, followed by loud chatting amongst the crew, ending with a singular shot before we start to part ways. 

As I was cleaning the bar in front of me, gathering glasses and loose bills lying around left by friendly drunk customers, Maki tapped my shoulder, gesturing her head to the man standing in front of me. Meeting his dark eyes once more, I could feel the lump in my throat form. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to harass you.” He took a napkin from the pile I had just stacked, placing his hand out in front of me, eyeing the pen in my apron pocket. My hands moved on their own, gently placing the pen in his hand, feeling his rough skin against mine. He quickly scribbled something across it, sliding the napkin in my direction. 

‘Can I have your number?’ I looked up, confused.

“I would give you mine but then there’s the chance you won’t actually text me.” I could feel the curiosity mixed with excitement of multiple coworkers behind me, feeling extremely heavy under the pressure of answering. To avoid this situation anymore, I instinctively wrote down my number, handing it over without making eye contact. And with that, Toji threw a wink in my direction, leaving with a small group out the front door of the bar. I let out a deep sigh, slowly turning around to meet the intense gaze of my coworkers. 

“Girl,” Maki smiled. “We all saw that, right? That just happened?” I felt my face get hot, really hot. What just happened? Why did I give him my actual number and not some random one? He’s right too, if he would’ve given me his number, I wouldn’t know what to do with it? But most of all, WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

I could feel myself getting dizzy with the thoughts running through my head at what felt like a million miles an hour. Everything happened so fast, I felt like I didn’t have enough time to react. He was so beautiful, and truly I wish I had more words to describe what he was like in my eyes. The way his messy hair fell so easily in front of his eclipse eyes. The scar located on the corner of his rough lips. His smile, that stupid cheesy grin, even made the hairs on the back of my neck wane at the thought of it. Why, of all the beautiful people who attended the bar tonight, why did I stand out?  

“Alright alright,” Nanami gestured at the roaring crowd of tired yet sleepless employees. “One again we had another successful fight night. Only one punch thrown and it wasn’t from one of our staff.” 

“Hey, Y/N.” Maki was smiling ear to ear, breath lingering with the scent of Blue Moon. “So Toji huh? After we heard about the interaction in the alley, man wouldn’t take his eyes off of you.” 

“Shut up Maki!” I lightly brushed her away. “There were a ton of girls sitting at the bar, it could've been anyone.” She rolled her eyes all the way into the back of her head, brows furrowed with a face that read ‘Be fucking for real’. 

“Lucky girl you.” I was desperately trying to grasp on to anything other than the idea he was interested in me. Not that I wasn’t attracted to him but because I was attracted to him. Men like that are elusive, not interested in the quiet life. And that’s all I’ve wanted, ever since I was very small. 

“See you Sunday Y/N. And good work Choso. Threw in a bit extra for you tonight for the last minute help.” Nanami waved us off before locking the doors behind him, walking in the opposite direction with Maki.  

“Y/N?” Choso whispered under his breath, walking slowly behind me on our way home.  The air between us was tense. I knew that if others had seen it, Choso had heard about what had happened. “What happened when you went outside?” 

“Um,” I hesitated, running my fingers through my hair. “I met Toji.” 

“What happened though?” He sounded nervous, voice shaking. 

“Nothing, he just made small talk.” 

“That’s it? Then why did you give him your number?” 

“Choso-” 

“No Y/N.” He stopped in his tracks, causing my own body to freeze. “He may be the top fighter right now but he’s bad news. That man hasn’t committed to anything in his life. All I’ve ever heard about him is bad things, and you want to get involved in that?” 

“Stop!” I turned around, looking at my older brother standing tall in front of me. I know he means well, and I can’t bring myself to be mad at him. But the constant hovering, there’s a certain line that can cause it to feel suffocating.  “Yes I gave him my number, yes I talked to him but why are we just assuming things when nothing has even happened? I get that you’re worried about me and I know you made a promise to look after me but I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have a say in who I talk to, let alone who I date. And that thought didn’t even cross my mind with Togi! I exchanged a few words with him about cheap cologne and he asked for my number. Tons of guys have done that working at this damn bar! So please, Choso. Please loosen your grip just a little and trust me for once!” 

I was out of breath, the cold autumn night biting at my bare legs as I painfully waited for Choso to respond. But nothing came. Instead he turned around, and walked the other way. Was I too harsh? Did I hurt his feelings just by trying to stand up for myself? Whatever. I let out a deep sigh and continued to head towards my apartment. Things will blow over eventually with Choso like they always do. I get that he is just being overprotective but this is the main reason why I haven’t gone out of my way to date anyone seriously. I’ve had a few flings here and there, but Choso has always been lingering in the background. Ever since the accident with our mother, Choso hasn’t really left my side. I don’t blame him, I’ve kept my grasp just as tight on him in return. We’ve been inseparable for a long time. But as we grow older, I want him to have a family of his own. I want him to follow his own dreams, be his own person. Not just my protector. 

“Yuna,” I called out as I slipped my shoes off at the foot of the front door. “How was it tonight? Quiet?” 

“Mow,” she called out, letting out a relaxed stretch before prancing over to greet me. I picked her up in one quick swoop, holding her close to my chest. 

“What a night Yuna. Pretty sure Choso won’t be around for a couple of days so try not to be too sad about it.” Her loud purs could be heard echoing throughout the silent apartment. She curled up in a small ball in my lap, bringing me what comfort she could without knowing the distress I was feeling. I let out what felt like the 60th deep sigh of my evening, crashing my back into the base of my bed. 

4:15 AM. Will Choso still want me to show up tonight? I should just shoot him a text apologizing for my outburst. As I reached for my phone, it lit up with an unknown number. Why is my heart racing?

“Hope you’re safe. -Toji.” 

I could feel my face flush to what I could assume was that of deep crimson. The heat  was radiating, cheeks warm to the touch. I sat there with my screen illuminating my face in the darkness of the early morning. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s pretty late.” 

“Did you just get home?” 

“About 20 minutes ago.” -Read 4:30 AM. It had been about 10 minutes since he opened that last text message. With that, I put my phone face down, attaching it to my charger. 

Tonight has been so overwhelming, my head felt like it was spinning as I closed my eyes. To be honest I didn’t want to think about it anymore, I knew I wouldn’t sleep if I fixed on any topic that had happened. Just as I could feel the sleep about to take over, I could feel the vibration of my phone go off. 

“I hope I see you around.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Master List

A/N: Helloooo!!! I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this series. I've been in heavy thought of what it means to be in love, indulging in various romance shows, books, movies, music. I know this isn't going to be about the Toji we know but the Toji we wish we could know. Let me know what you think 𓆩♡𓆪

[nburkhardt]

My beloved baby Pikachu I bring Pokémon ideas~

Eddie as ghost type gym leader whose gym looks like a metal concert and he has his sweetheart strapped to his back at all times

Steve as a water/fighting type gym leader whose gym is half a pool. Everyone is surprised to find this guy in a soft pastel sweater, tight jeans, and the fluffiest hair is the leader. Until he brings put his nail bat as the battle starts.

Everyone thinks they hate each other because they seem polar opposite but no one notices the skull ring on Steve's left hand nor the soft purple sweater Eddie sometimes wears.

They're married your honor!

The Party is a group of newbie trainers that get taken under their wings of course.

🖤❤️🖤❤️🐼

AHHHHH!!! PANDA I LOVE YOU, I already freaked out in dms with you but I’mma say it again: I LOVE YOUR BRAIN, you get ALLLLL the forehead kisses 🥹🥹🥹 I’m sooo gonna ramble away. Maybe not a full fic but my god I’m obsessed. (It’s a full fic, with a surprise pov!)

We’re going to mix up all the gens together (so if you only know some Pokémon, I’ll include pictures at the bottom of the ones I mentioned)

ALSO: if you have any ideas for anyone else’s Pokémon, let me knowwwww.

Onto my rambling fic under the cut 🥰

Here’s the thing, when Dustin decided to take on the gym challenge, he had no idea what he was going to expect.

He didn’t think picking a grass type to start could both hurt and help him between each gym. But Snivy was a little spitfire and like him; dramatic. She didn’t like any of the nicknames he threw out at her. She also didn’t like her pokeball, instead she preferred to sit on his head.

All of his friends were also doing the challenge but he was getting distracted by figuring out more information on each Pokémon instead of just battling. They’re all ahead of him, which, is okay it’s annoying but’s fine.

Especially when he ran into Steve.

Dustin was supposed to take on the fairy gym next but he heard the leader was ruthless. So, he decided to train up a bit. Maybe even evolve Natu and Trapinch. But instead of that, he was grumbling as he carried his very much knocked out, Trapinch to the Pokémon center instead of battling more.

Servine was walking next to him now, too big for staying on top of him when walking. She was also grumbling in her own way, crossed arms and nose in the air.

“We’re trying to get them to evolve, Servine, not knock them out!” He threw out at her getting closer to the center, “can’t believe I let you get your way all the time”

She apparently didn’t like that information and huffed before walking away, which would normally be fine if they weren’t in a new town. So, instead of reaching the Center like he wanted, he turns around to follow her. Returning Trapinch to his ball for now.

“Come ON, Servine I didn’t mean it like that! You’re so good at everything but-” he immediately knocked into somebody and knocked to the floor, “fuck, ow. Dude!”

Looking up he finds a guy, probably in his early twenties with a Mimikyu sitting on his shoulder while a tiny Pumpkaboo floats next to him. Which is a weird combo with the dude’s outfit choice of a soft looking yellow sweater and light wash jeans. “Not my fault you weren’t looking, dude”

Dustin glares up at him before getting up and dusting his legs off, “hey! I’m only looking for my Pokémon, she ran off from me!” Looking around he can’t tell which direction she actually went in, “by any chance you from around here?”

The guy makes a funny assumed face, both ghost pokémon snicker as well- which is so confusing. But he’s not too concerned for that, more so about the fact that his goddamn starter ran off.

“Yeah, you could say I’m from around here. What’s the Pokémon? A tiny Bidoof? Oh or is it a little Oddish?” He laughs and makes a weird hand movement that clearly both ghosts know and move away, “they got a name? That’d be way easier”

Crossing his arms he looks away, “Servine, and no. She didn’t like anything I came up with, so”

The guy’s laugh dies down and he frowns, “what, were the names lame or-” he shakes his head, “you’re upset, sorry, I’m Steve. Let’s find your Pokémon instead of bickering”

“I’m Dustin, and- SERVINE!” His eyes widen as the tiny Pumpkaboo (seriously how is that Pumpkaboo that small?) leads his Servine towards them, “I’m sorry, seriously, you’re the best and that was uncalled for. Are you okay?”

Servine nods and curls into his arms. He doesn’t bother saying anything else to her, cuddles her close and turns to find Steve picking up Mimikyu and whispering to Pumpkaboo, “Thanks. Seriously”

Steve smiles, “no problem, Oz here is pretty good at finding things.” He looks at his watch before wincing, “I gotta run, we’re gonna be late. You at the fairy gym?”

What the- “how do you know?”

Steve gives another funny look before shrugging, “Got an eye for these things, anyway, next gym is ghost. Be wary of him, he’s a little, hm, much. Yeah?”

All he can do is nod and watch as Steve just walks away.

Fairy gyms are brutal, even with Trapinch evolving into Vibrava. His saving grace was Slugma and that was it still rough since it’s fire isn’t that effective against fairy.

Maybe he should’ve gone with more poison types.

But that was two days ago, and now he’s making his way towards the next town and their gym. He is wary. Not only because of what Steve told him but because of running into Lucas.

(Lucas had decided on a water type, Totodile. Which was a little surprising for Lucas but Dustin didn’t question it, the little Totodile was energetic and lovable.)

He was minding his own business trying to figure out whether or not he could, technically, learn how to speak in the Pokémon’s language. When a blue bundle ran towards him, looking around he spots Lucas trying to catch his breath. “Hey! I thought you would’ve been passed this one”

They play catch up and once it’s all been said and done, Lucas shows him where the gym is. It looks fairly normal on the outside but Lucas swears it’s a whole other world inside.

“It’s like a concert, and there’s an actual audience too! Which was overwhelming at first, but once I got my footing it was like they weren’t there” Lucas explains, stopping only once their in front of a normal looking gym, Lucas laughs and shakes his head, “yeah that was my first expression too. I think you’ll enjoy it. Might have a hard time”

He looks away from the building to raise an eyebrow at him, “what does that mean?”

“Dude you picked a grass type as your starter! And you have no dark types!”

Rolling his eyes, “thanks for the encouragement, I’m sure I could handle it. Even with the disadvantages.”

Lucas looked like he didn’t believe him, but it didn’t bother him. Their whole party looked at him funny when he went with a grass type. Hell, Max made fun of him for it.

It didn’t matter, the gym challenge is turning out to be nothing he wanted to do once he’s able. He wanted to be a professor anyway. This was just temporary, even if he gets beat a bunch of times.

Walking inside the gym, he bypasses the annoying tips guy at right next to the door and makes his way to find the actual battle area. Lucas gave him the directions, it was confusing he said.

Sure enough, there’s a goddamn maze and cords everywhere.

After what feels like hours, he makes it to the end and is faced with a stage. Cords and what looks like vines everywhere, sure enough a small audience is there too. It looks all badass and a mix between rock and metal.

As he opens his mouth the lights go away and he has to immediately cover his ears as a loud beat starts. There’s a guitar being played even louder, clearer too. A spot light hits the stage and now he knows who’s playing.

Standing in the middle of the stage is a man. Long frizzy hair, leather jacket over a t-shirt with a band on it, ripped black jeans and black shoes. His guitar really completes the look, red with black lines all over.

The guy plays for a few minutes before stopping and walking closer, “Welcome to my metal concert, you ready for your ass to be handed to you?”

Right as he’s about to open his mouth a little orange and brown blur pops up behind the gym leader, it looks oddly familiar.

The man follows his gaze and groans, shifting his guitar to his back and focusing on the tiny Pokémon next to him, “Ozzy, we talked about this! Either stay in your ball, off the battle field or at home.”

Dustin blinks, moving closer he finds that the tiny Pokémon is a Pumpkaboo. That’s definitely moving and saying something back, which makes the guy shake his head before glancing around.

“Uh-“

“Hold on, I’m trying to find- HONEY LOVE! Come get your child!”

There’s no movement but he hears a snort, then the tiny Pokémon moves away and he sees the gym leader shake his head again, “sorry, that little guy is only a baby. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

The guy’s smile is wild and maybe Lucas was right.

An hour later and Dustin is sitting on the edge of the stage freshly beat and definitely ready to call it quits for the day.

“Did Eds give you a rough time?”

His head snaps up, there’s Steve with Mimikyu on his head and a Vaporeon sitting next to him.

“I just need to do some more training.” He doesn’t want to admit that yes, the gym leader, Eddie, definitely gave him a rough time. It was fun, but Eddie was even more brutal than the fairy gym.

Maybe he just needs to catch a dark type.

Steve nods slightly, making Mimikyu squeak. “Doesn’t hurt to train more, V here” he pats the Vaporeon’s head, causing a pur to happen, “wasn’t the greatest battler, we had to do lots of training. Before you do any of that, want to come have dinner with us? You and your Pokémon can all rest for the night”

Dustin can’t figure out how he didn’t put two and two together. He feels like an idiot right now.

“What do you mean you’re also a gym leader? The final one at that?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve snorts, putting his hands in his pockets as he leads them to a house, “not my fault you didn’t pay attention when the professor talked about the gym challenge to you.”

Crossing his arms he glares at the ground, “yeah well, Professor Owens forgets shit. How is it you’re the water gym leader yet have a ghost type with you?”

There’s an amused smirk on Steve’s face and what sounds like a giggle come from Mimikyu, “I might specialize with water types, I do have a fond experience with ghost types. And dude, it’s okay to try catching other types. I just so happen to work better with water types. Queen here was a gift, basically, my partner found an egg and gave it to me.”

He nods because Steve’s right, it is nice to use all different types. Though if he did only pick one, grass or bug type is where he’d stick with.

“Alright” Steve smiles and comes to a stop, “we’re here, once we get inside you can let your Pokémon out.” He leads them up to a door and Dustin takes in the mixture of aesthetics.

There’s clearly two different personalities living in this house, whoever Steve’s partner is, definitely enjoys the darker aesthetic compared to Steve. Who gives off a more pastel aesthetic. Not that he fully knows, he’s still going off or how Steve is dressed.

“Hey baby, I brought a guest!”

They both hear a crash and then a curse. A Gengar floats out of the kitchen and snickers as it stops in front of Steve, “What did you do?”

“He’s over the moon for beating up a Nin- woah! Honey love, you brought the kid I just beat?”

Blinking hard because there’s no way, Dustin also rubs his eyes before looking over at the kitchen doorway. His vision clears and yep, there’s the gym leader, Eddie, standing there in a pastel purple sweater and black sweats with his Decidueye leaning behind him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, seriously?”

Steve outright laughs and pats his shoulder, “dude, you’re face. Oh man, should’ve taken a picture.” He moves closer to Eddie and presses a kiss to his cheek, “He looked so sad after the defeat, I had to.”

Eddie shakes his head, amusement clear on his face, “Honey, you gotta warn people when you bring them over. Even if they look like a kicked Eevee”

He scruffs and looks away from the couple to find the Pumpkaboo, Ozzy apparently, next to him. It makes him groan, “I’m an idiot, you’re the one who found Servine!”

Ozzy nods excitedly before floating down and nudges his bag, confused he opens it and Ozzy dances around him. He’s curious and looks over at the couple, “uh, what?”

“He’s asking you to let your Pokémon out, they’ll enjoy some play time and food.” Eddie answers and looks at the time, “which is done by the way. Come on, let them out and we’ll give you some tips”

Shrugging, he does just that, all his Pokémon looking around curiously before spotting the backdoor where Ozzy and Steve are now in front of. All of them rush over and Steve laughs before opening the door, letting all of his Pokémon outside.

“Don’t worry, we got a fence and there’s food already out there.”

He can only nod and watch as his Pokémon all play together with Steve’s and Eddie’s Pokémon.

Dustin doesn’t know how he ended up here, honestly, he’s sitting inside a home that belongs to two gym leaders. Who are not only two of the strongest ones but also married to each other. Of all the things he was learning, this might’ve been the most surprising.

————

I’m gonna end it there because if I keep going this post will be stupid long (it already is 😅) BUT!! I decided to make this into a series!! It’ll be a fun one that I could write and post whenever I want. Can switch up povs and everything this way. Please don’t ask me why I went with Dustin’s pov this time around, I don’t even know. I just..kept going.

Anyway! If you enjoyed this let me know what you think and if you have any ideas/suggestions you can totally leave me some!!

Taglist: (sorry if you don’t like Pokémon 😂)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @strangersteddierthings

Here’s the graphs of the Pokémon I have mentioned and also the full teams of the main three (Dustin, Steve & Eddie) and also Lucas’ totodile (didn’t come up with his full team)

[yaoi-enthusiasts]

seven years - ch10: “Witty Speeches & Happy Tears” || t. fushiguro

❛ ❜ toji fushiguro x f!reader (on going)

❝ Growing up in the Zenin household was tough, you were only but a toddler when your mother took a job there as one of the house keepers, trying to pay off some enormous debt that her husband, your father had left her with. Even as a toddler alone, you learned to be on your own, learned how to wash dishes, pull weeds, sweep the floors, you became quick on your feet, until you were seven years old, and you took the attention of a specific green eyed boy. “How old are you,” It was hardly even a question, more of a statement, the boy looked bruised and very much worn out, the young boy, you felt a sense of comfort, it was at this moment, Toji Zenin became your light in such a dark place. ❞

cw ; mdni • 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. hurt/trauma. family trauma. consent. smut . anxiety. death.

word count ; 3.7k

chapter warning ; soft smut

additional tags ; sorcerer au. mutual pining. childhood friends.

main masterlist | series masterlist | previous chapter

The sun was warm and golden as it filtered through the trees surrounding the hillside. A small wooden arch had been decorated with wildflowers — courtesy of Shoko and Haibara’s last-minute flower-picking mission (which included a dramatic near-death bee encounter).

Guests were seated on a mix of borrowed folding chairs, old temple benches, and one inexplicable bean bag chair that Satoru insisted was “a vibe.” Toji stood near the front in a clean black haori, hair freshly trimmed, hands clasped behind his back. He looked calm, but Nanami — his temporary best man — had witnessed the way he’d nearly crushed a tea cup that morning from nerves. And then the music began. Light. Soft. Haibara hitting “play” on a speaker and giving a double thumbs up like he was launching a rocket. You walked down the makeshift aisle, dress flowing, Megumi holding your hand as the honorary ring bearer/escort. His suit was slightly crooked, and he kept pulling at the tie, but his grin was radiant.

Toji’s eyes were glued to you — the way your smile outshone the sun, the way you looked at him like he was the only thing that ever mattered. “I can’t believe he cleaned up this well,” Satoru muttered loudly from the front row, getting a jab to the ribs from Shoko. Yaga, standing beside them, sighed deeply. “That boy will be the death of me.”

The ceremony was short, sweet, and just chaotic enough. Toji's vow was gruff but sincere: “I’m not good at this… talking stuff. But you’ve made me better. You made home feel like a real place again. And… I promise to love you. And protect you. And not leave my laundry all over the floor. Mostly.” You, trying not to cry and laugh at once, responded: “I promise to love you — even when you leave your weapons on the kitchen counter. And I promise to always be on your side. Especially when Megumi learns how to talk back.” Megumi clapped wildly at that. “Sealed with a kiss!” Haibara shouted from the back. Toji rolled his eyes, but kissed you softly, then tugged you closer with that smirk of his.

The reception was held right in the Jujutsu High courtyard, lit with string lights, a long table full of food Nanami stress-cooked, and mismatched decorations Suguru and Satoru threw together that morning. “Technically I wasn’t invited to decorate,” Satoru said, proudly pointing to a banner that read: CONGRATULATIONS ON THE SUCCESSFUL MERGER in crooked Sharpie. “That was from the mission board,” Nanami sighed. “I recycle.” The music began. You danced first with Toji, swaying under the stars, your head tucked into his chest. Megumi waddled up halfway through and Toji passed you over with a proud smile. “Your turn, mama.”

So there you were, barefoot and beaming, spinning slowly with a giggling Megumi who kept stepping on your toes. Toji stood back, watching the two people he loved most in the world laugh together, and something in his chest tightened — that rare feeling of peace. Meanwhile, the teens had taken to the makeshift dance floor. Suguru had been dragged up first by Shoko, who then promptly shoved him toward Satoru. “I don’t dance,” Suguru said flatly. “You do now,” Satoru grinned, grabbing his hand and immediately launching into something vaguely resembling a waltz mixed with breakdancing. Shoko lit a cigarette from the corner and watched them spin. “I give that three minutes before someone falls.” Satoru dipped Suguru with a dramatic flourish. “Is this how I die?” Suguru muttered. “Elegantly,” Satoru winked.

Eventually, as the cake was being cut and the first few guests started loosening their collars, Satoru tapped his fork against a glass and stood up. “Oh god,” Nanami muttered. “I’d like to make a toast,” Satoru said, smirking, clearly enjoying the spotlight. “To Toji Fushiguro — my teacher, my tormentor, my eternal grump.” 

“Toji is the kind of man who says five words a day, three of which are cuss words, and yet somehow still got the girl.”

You snorted into your water. “But in all seriousness,” Satoru continued, tone softening just slightly, “you’ve taught all of us more than you know. About strength, survival, and — weirdly — how to make a decent grilled fish.” He glanced toward you. “And to the only woman alive who could put up with him, raise a gremlin child, and keep him from maiming me. You’re basically a sorcerer.” “Cheers,” he grinned, lifting his glass. Everyone clinked theirs together. Yaga shook his head slowly. “Again, that boy will be the death of me.”

As the night wore on, the music slowed, the laughter settled into softer tones, and people began saying their goodbyes.

Megumi had passed out in Suguru’s lap mid-sentence. Satoru had somehow ended up slow dancing with Shoko — both clearly pretending they didn’t enjoy it. Nanami was cleaning up plates with surgical precision. Toji wrapped his arm around you from behind, lips brushing your temple. “We did good,” he murmured. You smiled, leaning into him. “Yeah. We did.”

And there, surrounded by your strange, chaotic, wonderful family, with your son asleep nearby and another life quietly growing inside you, everything felt whole.

—

The reception was winding down, guests drifting away with smiles and tired eyes, when Yaga suddenly cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Before you two disappear,” Yaga said, eyes sharp beneath his brows, “Megumi will be coming with me for the night.” Toji blinked, confused. “Why’s that, Sensei?” Yaga folded his arms, voice firm. “Because, Toji, you and your wife need some time alone. It’s your wedding night. You’ve been dancing around it like two cursed spirits avoiding a cursed object.” Satoru, leaning lazily against a nearby pillar, smirked. “Yeah, Toji, I’m pretty sure I can hear you two all the way back at Jujutsu High. No need to hold back tonight.” The entire group burst out laughing — including Toji, who shook his head with a grin, cheeks coloring slightly. “You’re impossible, Satoru,” Toji muttered.

“True,” Satoru winked. “But hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Yaga rolled his eyes. “Fine, enough teasing. Megumi, you’re with me. Don’t cause trouble, kid.” Megumi, wide-eyed but obedient, took Yaga’s hand without protest, casting a small wave to you and Toji. Once Megumi and Yaga left, the quiet settled over the courtyard like a soft blanket. Toji grabbed your hand, his usual gruffness softened by the glow of the evening. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As soon as you stepped through the door of Toji’s hillside home, the world outside fell away. Without a word, Toji’s lips found yours — slow, gentle, and full of promise. He kissed you like you were fragile glass, careful despite the fire burning beneath the surface. Your heart fluttered as his hands slid down to rest softly on your hips, mindful of the growing life inside you. “You okay?” he murmured against your mouth, thumb brushing your cheek. You smiled, fingers threading through his hair. “Better than okay. I’m home.” Toji pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze warm and steady. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” You leaned into him, breath catching.

His hands slid around your waist, fingers splaying gently but possessively, pulling you flush against him. You felt the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment. His lips trailed down your jawline, nipping softly, sending shivers along your skin. Every touch was careful, reverent — as if you were made of something precious and fragile.

You raised your hands, weaving your fingers through his thick hair, tugging him closer, urging him on. The world outside ceased to exist. It was just you and him, the quiet house, and the steady, reassuring beat of his heart under your palm.

Toji’s hands moved to cradle your belly, thumb brushing soothing circles over your skin. “You feeling okay, baby?” he whispered against your temple, voice low and full of concern. You nodded, breath hitching as his mouth found yours again, softer this time — a tender promise rather than a demand.

He kissed down your neck, lingering in the hollow where your pulse fluttered, while his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, drawing you closer until you felt the full weight and warmth of him. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as if savoring every second, every inch of connection — knowing that soon there would be a new life to care for, but right now, this was just yours and his.

You melted against him, heart full, lips parting to welcome his gentle tongue, fingers clutching at the nape of his neck.

In this quiet moment, with soft whispers and gentle touches, you both found solace — a safe harbor against the storm.

And as his hands roamed carefully, never rushing, never careless, Toji’s breath was warm against your skin as his lips trailed from your neck back to your mouth, capturing you in a kiss that was both tender and full of quiet urgency. You could feel the subtle trembling in his fingers as they slid beneath your shirt that you had changed into before you two left, resting gently on the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your hands moved to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palms—strong, steady, grounding. You looked up into his eyes, seeing a flicker of vulnerability behind the usual fierce intensity. It was a moment where the weight of the world fell away, leaving just the two of you suspended in time. “Hey,” Toji murmured softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m right here. We’re gonna be okay.” You swallowed hard, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and love. “I’m scared,” you admitted in a whisper, your fingers tightening on his shirt. His lips curved into a slow, reassuring smile. “Me too. But we’ve got each other. That’s all that matters.” He kissed you again, slow and deliberate, his touch gentle as if memorizing every inch of you. His hands traced light circles over your belly, warm and steady, a silent promise that no matter what came next, he would be there—protecting you both.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. The steady pulse was like a lullaby, soothing your worries.

“Let’s take it slow,” Toji whispered, fingers weaving through your hair. “No rush. Just us.” Your breath hitched as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, a soft nuzzle that made your whole body melt. Toji guided you back to the shared bedroom, undressing you slowly, and kissing from your lips, down to your belly, hardly a bump, but he still showed the growing baby love. “Beautiful,” he muttered, his lips going further down as he spread your legs for easier access, slipping his tongue gently into your very sensitive core, already throbbing with need, was this pregnancy hormones?

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing up and down your slick folds, drawing shaky moans and breathless whimpers from your parted lips. Every movement was purposeful, every lick sending waves of pleasure rippling through your core.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Toji murmured against your heat, his voice low and rough, the vibration of his words sending a shiver through you. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked softly, teasing you with just enough pressure to make your hips twitch beneath his grip. You gasped, your fingers tangling in the sheets. “N-no… s-so good,” you managed to moan, your voice breaking with need. He groaned in approval and slipped two fingers inside you, the slow stretch making your thighs tremble. His touch was careful but firm, curling just right as he began to move them in rhythm with his mouth, coaxing pleasure from you with skillful precision.

Your back arched as Toji’s fingers moved in a slow, patient rhythm, curling against that tender spot deep inside you. He kissed you like a man who had all the time in the world, savoring the way your body reacted to every touch, every flick of his tongue, every gentle thrust of his hand.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with affection and desire. “So responsive… every sound you make drives me crazy.” You reached down with trembling fingers, brushing them through his messy hair, your heart swelling at the sight of him between your thighs, worshiping you like you were something precious. His dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he glanced up at you, and there was something soft in his expression—like he wasn’t just making love to your body, but to your soul. “Toji…” you whispered, eyes brimming with emotion.

He slowed his movements, pulling his mouth from you just enough to look at you fully. “I’ve got you,” he promised, leaning up to press a warm, open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh, then your hip, trailing up until his lips found yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth as he kissed you deeply, reverently, his body slotting against yours, warm and protective. He braced himself with one arm beside your head, his other hand stroking over your waist as if grounding himself in your presence.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your lips. “And I’m yours. Completely.” The tenderness in his voice nearly undid you. You cupped his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Always.” He guided himself to your entrance, moving slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes never leaving yours. He moved with a gentleness that contrasted his usual rough demeanor, as though the growing life inside you had awakened something even more careful, more reverent in him.

As he began to move, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you—each breath shared, each whisper exchanged, each heartbeat in sync. Your fingers laced with his, your bodies tangled in warmth and love. The pace was slow, sensual, an act of worship more than lust. He murmured your name over and over like a prayer, like a promise. And when you both reached your peak, it wasn’t just pleasure—it was a quiet, soul-deep kind of bliss that left you wrapped in each other’s arms, content, safe, and utterly loved. Toji kissed your temple, then your shoulder, then the curve of your belly. “You’re everything,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. And for the first time in a long time, in the quiet aftermath of your love, you believed that everything was going to be okay.

You lied against Toji’s chest, your bare body tangled with his beneath the linen sheets. His skin was warm, heartbeat steady against your cheek, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. Every rise and fall of his chest lulled you deeper into calm. Toji let out a low sigh, one hand lazily trailing up and down your spine. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice rough but soft. You nodded against him, shifting just enough to press a kiss to his collarbone. “More than okay,” you whispered. “That was… everything.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah?” He tilted his head down to look at you, brushing some hair away from your face. “Didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” You smiled at how gentle he’d become, how considerate he was in ways he never used to be. “No,” you reassured, fingers tracing idle circles on his chest. “We’re fine. You were perfect.” His lips tugged into a crooked smirk, but his eyes betrayed how relieved he was to hear it. “Good. ‘Cause I was holdin’ back.”

You laughed softly, swatting his shoulder. “Hold back a little longer, dad-to-be.” At that, his smirk faded into something more tender. He turned slightly, placing his palm carefully on your belly—still flat but warm and full of promise. His thumb rubbed slow circles there as he stared, almost in awe. “It still doesn’t feel real,” he admitted, voice quiet. “That we’re gonna have a baby.” “You already have one,” you said, glancing toward the other room where Megumi would have been asleep, but instead was tucked in by Yaga for the night, at his home. “And now another. You’re… really good at this, you know.”

Toji didn’t say anything right away, just stared at your stomach a moment longer. Then he pulled you closer, curling around you like you were the most important thing in the world. “I want to do it right this time,” he said. “Better than before.”

You kissed his shoulder, then rested your forehead against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “You already are.”

For a long moment, you lay there in silence, legs tangled, his heartbeat lulling you into peace. The world could wait. The responsibilities, the future, everything else—it could all wait.

Tonight was just for the two of you and the quiet miracle growing between.

—

8 Months Later

The house smelled faintly of fresh linen and baby powder, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt still. Calm.

You were curled on the plush couch, pillows propped behind your back, a warm blanket draped over your legs. In your arms was your newborn daughter, no more than a few days old, swaddled in soft cotton with the tiniest fist pressed to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids, and her breath was light and rhythmic against your chest.

Toji sat beside you, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other lazily tracing circles on your knee. He hadn’t said much—he didn’t need to. Every now and then, he glanced down at his daughter with an expression you’d only ever seen once or twice: quiet, reverent wonder. A softness that made your chest ache. “She’s got your lips,” he murmured, his voice low, a kind of disbelief lingering at the edges. “But she looks like Megumi when he was this small.” You smiled. “She’s got your scowl too.” He huffed a laugh, but didn’t deny it. “God help us if she gets your attitude.” Just as you were about to answer, the front door flew open with a dramatic bang, nearly jolting the baby from her nap. You both jumped.

“WE’RE HERE!” Satoru’s voice boomed through the house before his tall figure even appeared in the doorway. His white hair caught the sunlight like a halo—but the chaos he dragged in with him was anything but angelic. Behind him followed Suguru, calm as ever, arms full of practical gifts—diapers, blankets, a stuffed animal that looked suspiciously like a curse. Shoko wandered in after them, a container of steaming soup under one arm and a bouquet of sleepy wildflowers in the other. Nanami and Haibara trailed behind, each carrying something modest but thoughtful—handmade toys, little knit booties, a soft storybook.

“Shhh,” Suguru hissed, grabbing Satoru by the sleeve, “You’re going to scare the baby.” Satoru pouted. “She’s already heard worse. Toji breathes loud.” Your laughter bubbled up unbidden, and you caught Toji’s eye, watching him roll his with a smirk. He was relaxed today. Radiant, even. Maybe not in the way you’d describe it to others, but in his own, rare Toji way—settled. Rooted. Like for once, he wasn't carrying the world on his back. Then Satoru caught a full glimpse of the baby, nestled against your chest, and all the mischief drained from his face. There was a pause.

“…She’s real,” he whispered, as if it had only just hit him. Slowly, with careful steps, he approached. “Can I…?” You nodded, gently transferring the baby into his arms. It was awkward—his long limbs stiff, his mouth parted in awe—but his hold was careful. Precise. Like he was carrying something holy. “She’s disgustingly cute,” he mumbled, eyes suspiciously glassy. “Okay, maybe I am happy you guys had that disturbing sex.” Toji groaned. “Satoru.” “What?!” Satoru sniffled. “That’s how she got here, right? I’m just saying—I forgive you for traumatizing me because this—” he looked down at the baby again, “—makes it worth it.” Suguru stepped closer and gently placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “You’ll be a terrible godfather.”

“Absolutely,” Shoko said, crouching beside you. She touched your shoulder gently. “You look amazing. Tired. But amazing. You did it.”

You offered her a quiet smile, your eyes misty. “I couldn’t have done it without any of you.” Just then, little footsteps pattered down the hallway. Megumi appeared in the doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his frog plush in one hand and his little socks mismatched. His dark eyes brightened the second he spotted the baby.

“Can I see her now?” he asked softly. Toji opened his arms, and Megumi climbed up between the two of you. Carefully, you helped guide his arms as Satoru handed the baby over. She settled into her big brother’s lap like she’d always belonged there.

“She’s really small,” Megumi whispered, his voice filled with a kind of innocent awe. “She smells nice.” “She’s your little sister,” you said, stroking his hair gently. “And she’s lucky to have you.” He looked up, serious, the way only a four-year-old trying his best to be grown could be. “I’ll protect her. Always.” “Like a big brother should,” Nanami said with a small nod.

“I’ll teach her how to punch curses in the eye,” Haibara added. “I’ll make her cool sunglasses,” Satoru said, wiping his eyes again. “Matching ones. With glitter.” “Absolutely not,” Toji said flatly. Laughter rippled through the room, warm and full. You leaned into Toji’s side, his arm tightening around your waist. “She’s gonna be raised in chaos,” you whispered to him, watching the teens pile gifts on the floor and Satoru begin planning the baby’s entire academic and jujutsu career.

“You think?” he murmured, kissing the side of your head. “She’s going to be so loved,” you whispered, tears in your eyes. “I can feel it already.” Toji looked down at his son and daughter curled up together, at the friends who had become family, at you—the woman who’d turned his broken world into something whole. And he smiled, a rare, quiet, sincere thing.

“She already is.”

authors note ; & just like that, the main story is complete. This is by far my favorite piece I have worked on. I have spent months working on this piece, hope you enjoyed!

[padfootagain]

The Last Ones On Earth (IV)

Chapter 4: An Age

Hello, hello! Here is a new chapter for my Darkling series!

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Summary: You and the Darkling are a team, even if no one knows it. Beyond being a team, you are the only one he trusts, and he's the only one you care about, and you're each other's true love. But if you've kept your secrets hidden for a long time, now that the Sun Summoner is fighting against you, it's time to reveal who you are, and what you are capable of...

Word Count: 2744

Masterlist for the series – The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Alina stares at you as if you were a ghost. Or perhaps a dragon. Or a strange mix of both.

You give her a minute to register your words, you can almost call them a threat. You doubt that she’s weighing her options, though. You reckon she simply tries to understand what your words mean.

And then it’s back. The pride in her gaze, the rise in her chin, the tightness in her jaw.

Stupid girl who believes herself important…

“You say you want to talk, and yet you use threats already.”

“Who was put in chains to see you again?” you reply with amused sarcasm.

“And we were clearly right to mistrust you,” Zoya crosses her arms before her chest, her beautiful features slightly distorted by anger.

“Indeed!” you shoot her a smile. “It was pretty reckless to let me see all of you so easily.”

“David vouched for you,” Genya replies in a grim fashion, and David averts his eyes to stare at the carpet.

But your smile softens as you turn to him.

“Thank you, David. That was very nice of you.”

You turn towards Alina again. You notice that her hands ae touching.

Your smile grows, this time, more threatening, almost predatory.

“Child, let’s not make a mess. I simply want to talk, I haven’t come to hurt anyone.”

“Say that to the soldiers outside.”

“Collateral damage, I’m afraid,” you shrug. “I’m not going to hurt anyone in this room, I promise.”

“If you side with the Darkling, is your word worth anything?”

You raise a surprised eyebrow.

“If you truly knew him, you’d know how foolish that remark is. The Darkling is a lot of things, but he does stay true to his words.”

“And by ‘a lot of things’, you do include mass murderer, of course,” Nikolai points out.

“Coming from a man whose main occupations are pirating and inventing mass-destruction weaponry, I do find the remark particularly ironic.”

But you heave a sigh, tired of losing time you don’t have. There is too much work to do. Grisha to rescue, friends to bury, a whole nation to lead…

“Now, please, Alina. Again, I will not hurt you, so come sit down so we can talk.”

“I’ve never liked you,” the girl mumbles under her breath, her hands slowly moving, and you can see glow coming from her fingertips.

You roll your eyes.

“If I fought every person I didn’t like, only three people in this room would still be alive, including me. And you would not be breathing anymore, Starkov. But as I can’t choke you to death with my bare hands the way I truly long to, please, don’t do anything stupid and sit down.”

With a frustrated sigh, Alina closes her fists, but lets her power subside, and at long last, joins the gathering around the wooden table again.

“We will not yield when it comes to destroying the Fold,” Alina stubbornly declares.

“I am aware of repeating myself, but it will not work without the Fold,” you reply.

“You cannot destroy entire villages!”

“You cannot force people to change if you give them a chance to remain as they are.”

“People can change.”

“They can,” you nod in agreement. “But most of the time, they don’t want to. Why would they? If what you are asking for goes against their own interest, why would they change?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You snort at that.

“Please… Don’t be so naïve. Of course, some people have enough compassion to not hurt Grisha. But the majority will take centuries to reach this kind of tolerance. And in the meantime, people are dying. Our people.”

“We are all Ravkan,” Nikolai argues.

“Are we? Because when I was arrested by your men a few weeks ago and kept in a cage without water, food, or anything against the cold for three days, waiting to be executed that more Grisha were captured because, and I quote ‘it would be a waste of energy to set up the gallows just for a couple of them’… without any sort of trial or justice whatsoever, I did not feel very Ravkan… but I did feel very much Grisha.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer, instead he looks guiltily at his hands.

“I don’t care about Ravka,” you answer in honesty. “I don’t care about Shu Han, I don’t care about Fjerda, or any other nation. At the end of the day, we are all humans. And we are Grisha, and otkazat’sya. The Fold is not to be used as a threat against Ravka alone, that’s the whole point. It’s the only weapon in our possession that is powerful enough for all Grisha to be safe, no matter where they come from.”

“I do not condone what has been done to you,” Nikolai finally speaks, his voice slow and measured. “But if people are turning against Grisha, it is because of the Darkling’s actions.”

You roll your eyes at that.

“This has been going on for centuries, it is nothing new, they simply have an excuse to do as they please without any repercussion, and they enjoy their newly-found freedom to slaughter all the Grisha they want. It happens again, and again. We have tried to be useful, we have tried to prove people we are no threat, we have tried working hand in hand with kings, and it doesn’t work. The Fold is our last chance.”

“You speak as if you had done all of that, but you are barely older than us,” Zoya spits in a venomous tone. “Who do you think you are, Maeve?”

“Y/N,” you interrupt her.

The girl frowns.

“What?”

“My real name is Y/N. Maeve is only my latest identity, I’ve had many of those before.”

Suddenly, Alina’s eyes grow round, and she finally seems afraid of you.

At long last, some intelligence…

“Are you a spy?” David asks, taken aback by your statement.

But you shake your head.

“Not exactly.”

“You are like him.”

All turn to Alina as she speaks again, her voice uneasy.

“You said you are a powerful Durast.”

“Incredibly powerful,” you correct her.

“You are like the Darkling.”

“Aleksander. That’s his name.”

He’ll hate you for saying it out loud, for revealing something so personal about him.

Aleksander. His first name, his true one. The one only you and Baghra know. The one that tastes of the young man you met all these years ago, unconscious in the snow somewhere near Fjerda…

 All around the table frown. As if they never wondered what his name was. And perhaps they truly never cared to wonder. Perhaps the title was enough. It’s easier, anyway, to stare at a man you send to die on a battlefield and see only a rank, a title, and not the human wearing it. It’s easier too to kill an enemy if he is but a shadow, a symbol, and not an actual breathing man.

You lean a little over the table, your forearms resting on the hard surface, your fingers intertwining together.

“Aleksander and I are extremely powerful Grisha. Just like you, Alina. Just like Baghra. Just like Saints.”

“I don’t understand,” Mal admits.

“Grisha draw great strengths from using their powers. The more powerful you are, the better your health. Some of us are so powerful, we are virtually immortal. Or, well, if you smash my head with a sword, I will die. But I barely age at all. I can leave for thousands of years.”

“Bullshit,” Nikolai curses.

“I’m afraid not. It is a great curse, indeed. But power always has a cost.”

“Some would consider themselves lucky to never age. Especially my mother, considering all her efforts to hide her true age…”

“Well, my dear prince, your mother has not seen people dying for hundreds of years.”

Again, Nikolai looked away.

“You said that Alina was like that too…” Mal insists, and you don’t fail to notice the way Alina flees his gaze.

“Indeed. She will without a doubt outlive all of you, and your descendants on many generations.”

“If it’s so unbearable, why are you still alive? We wouldn’t be in this mess if you and the Darkling had given up,” Zoya adds bitterly.

But when you turn to her, your stare is filled with a cold fire that shushes her.

“Many powerful Grisha kill themselves, after a while, after it’s too much to see all the people you love die over and over again. Aleksander and I were lucky, we found each other. And don’t forget that without our efforts, the Little Palace would not exist and Grisha would have never known any type of safety. We were the first to manage to live for longer than a couple of years at the same place, while using our powers, and remain safe.”

“You speak as if you were there when the Little Palace was built,” David frowns.

“I was there,” you correct him. “I built the place. Literally. I am a Fabrikator, after all.”

“You do expect us to believe you?” Mal scoffs, but Alina shushes him quickly. And you can see on the faces of the others that their opinion of you changes as they realize that Alina does, indeed, believe you.

And rightly so. After all, you are telling the truth. The way you had planned to do.

You choose your next words carefully.

“I have seen the same pattern again and again. I know what will happen, because I have seen it before. I have tried every other way to help Grisha: hiding, fighting, being useful, being tamed, being strong… it doesn’t work. It never works, because otkazat’sya are afraid of our power, because they feel different and thus frightened. You ask me to wait, that we are in no rush to change the world, but I have been working towards that goal for hundreds of years. I am not in a rush, I am patient, indeed. But things must change, eventually. And we have an opportunity here that will never present itself again for things to finally go the way we want.”

You heave a sigh, and you seem tired now. Despite your face untouched by the many years you have spent on this earth, there is something new in your gaze, a sadness that doesn’t fit the youth of your features. It seems ancient, brought by a pain too great to have occurred in only a lifetime.

“If you want proof, I can tell you everything you want to know. I’ll tell you how Aleksander and I met. How we ran. How we hid. How we fought. All the things that we tried to help Grisha and how it always failed. How we were betrayed and how we survived. If it can prove my point, then so be it.”

“How old are you?” Alina asks after a short silent.

Her voice is cautious, slow. As if she’s afraid of your answer. And perhaps she is. She should be. After all, it shows how powerful you are, how much of a threat you can be. To her, who is doomed to a deathless life as well, it also means facing the truth about her lover.

Your smile is smug when your lips curl upwards and you answer.

“I’ll turn 889 in a couple of months.”

Over 400 years ago

Os Alta – over the grounds of the royal Palace

Your hands moved relentlessly in those days. There was so much work to be done. You had help, of course, from otkazat’sya workers but also from other Fabrikators. It was the name that was chosen for the Grisha sharing your powers, along with a colour: purple, like the petals of flowers, like berries, like poisons…

But on this room, your work was to be done in solitude. No one could know about the changes you were bringing to Aleksander’s War Room. It would protect you from eavesdroppers, fire, and many other threats. It would be a safe room. Even if Aleksander’s plan in the army seemed to be working for now, you reckoned you couldn’t stop being cautious. You needed safety, as always.

“You are working too late, my love.”

The warm voice filled your heart with something both peaceful and excited. You couldn’t refrain a smile as you turned to your husband, who was walking inside the room and closing the door behind him.

“You must rest,” he insisted, but you shook your head.

“I am perfectly fine. Besides, I can’t work on this room during the day, it’s too risky.”

Of course, he knew you were right. Still, he wished you could rest more, he wished you could be safe and wouldn’t have to hide…

Soon. He hoped it could be soon. With this safe haven you were building together, it could be the answer to everything. Perhaps it could even be a home…

You chuckled fondly as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

“You’re distracting me!” you complained in faked annoyance, and Aleksander knew perfectly what you were doing.

“You love it.”

“I do not! I am busy!”

“And I am tired and long for a good night of sleep in a comfortable bed with my beloved wife.”

“Is it not too risky?”

“We are safe for now, let’s enjoy it, while it lasts.”

“Do you think this could be it? That we could finally remain safe?”

“I do not know. I hope so.”

“But we’re both too old for foolish hopes, huh?”

You exchanged a sad smile.

“We should not be seen as a couple,” Aleksander went on, and he knew he was breaking your heart a little by saying that, the same way he was breaking his own. “It would be too dangerous.”

“I agree. We are both powerful, we will live long lives… It would be too frightening for the otkazat’sya.”

“Build us a room where we can be ourselves, my love. We will pretend the rest of the time.”

You turned in his arms to face him, and his hand immediately raised to rest over your cheek.

“I’ll make you pay for that,” you warned him, and he raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Really? Will you? And how could I repay this debt towards my favourite Fabrikator?”

“An awful lot of kisses will be required. And some cakes. Lots of sweets.”

You both laughed at that, despite your shared tiredness, despite all the things you had been through. A bright laugh made of bright hope, a fool’s hope perhaps, but hope all the same. The sounds filled up the empty room, and echoed in its blank space.

“So, we’ll hide that we are married?” you asked after growing quiet again, and Aleksander nodded, although you could see it pained him to do so.

“It’s safer this way. If I am to step up, I will have many enemies.”

You nodded, tugging your head on his chest, so he could rest his chin on you.

“We’ll make it work,” you reassured him, feeling the tension in his body, the fear too. “We’ll make it work, Aleks.”

“I know. I’m just… worried that you might… that I might lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’ll be right there. And I’ll steal an awful lot of kisses in this room.”

“Is it safe already?”

“Safe enough for us to have this conversation, yes.”

“Can you lock the door?”

“Already done it.”

He chuckled.

“You’re getting good at using your powers without moving your hands.”

“I still had to move a finger, but my hands didn’t touch.”

“That’s my wife. So powerful.”

But he felt you tensing in his gentle hold.

“It will be worth it, right? All these moments together we’ll have to sacrifice, all this fighting, all this work… tell me it will be worth it. Tell me we’ll make it.”

He took your face in both his hands to force you to look up at him.

“It will be worth it,” he assured you, and in his dark eyes, you saw no lies nor doubts. “We will make it through. You and me, the way we have planned. The way we promised each other we would.”

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth?” you still asked in a trembling voice, even if you didn’t doubt him.

He nodded, a smile on his lips as he pulled you in a tight hold again.

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth, my love.”

*****************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @budugu @sayumiht

[pet-genius]

Excerpt from a SSHG fic that mostly exists in my head

A while ago I wrote, and then abandoned, a SSHG fic called "Soulsavers". I still think about it a lot, and so today I wrote a scene that could fit in it. The premise of the fic is that Hermione travels in time to try to talk young!Snape out of becoming a Death Eater, and they gradually develop feelings for each other. In this scene, the Slytherins at the breakfast table debate an editorial on the Daily Prophet:

Hermione would have been almost perfect, if she had not been so fucking clueless, Severus ‎thought. He shoved aside her inexplicable strokes of near-omniscience, along with the ‎knowledge that, had she been at this school since the start, she'd probably want nothing to do ‎with him, like all the other girls. “Oh, can you believe this utter bollocks,” she said, slamming ‎the Daily Prophet on her half-eaten toast.‎

"Finally, she's getting some sense into that head of hers,” Black remarked. “It's absurd to ‎think our society isn't under threat, even if most of them are just shaved monkeys.”‎ But Severus suspected that Black was merely projecting. Hermione gave Black a cold look ‎and mumbled something about “see how you talk in five months”. Regulus was too busy ‎admiring his own voice to hear her, and Severus already knew he wouldn’t get a straight ‎answer. Hermione turned to him, and asked, “Are people really dumb enough to believe ‎atomic bombs are because Muggles steal magic?! And this is how they justify all this idiotic ‎purity stuff?!”‎

Severus asked himself again, for the thousandth time, what were they teaching them in Australia, and stared into his tea. He knew Muggles, and as far as he could tell, wanton destruction is exactly what they would do with magic.

���Well?!” She demanded.

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? Suddenly, they can do this, and even they don’t fully understand how it works, innit?”

“You can’t expect me to explain how atomic bombs work! They’re the ones claiming Muggles stole magic, they can prove it! How were they even supposed to do it?!”

Severus shrugged. However the Muggles had come by atomic weapons, they still had, so wasn't it only right for them to be contained?

“And look at what this… this… Oh, the writer of this editorial is a Malfoy, of course! So how does suggest enforcing his ideas? You kill all the Muggle-borns, new ones will keep turning up!”

Severus glanced at Lily, who was giving Potter the cow eyes as he read out of the same editorial. “Dumbledore wants us to learn from them. He wants us to let their children mix with ours with nary a thought for preserving our identity,” James orated, exaggerating even his own pomposity.

Preserving our identity… Funny, that. There seemed to be nothing left of the Lily he loved so much, who could see her sister and his father for what they were: resentful, obsessed with their own weakness, believing it entitled them to treat their magical kin like the dirt on their shoes.

“Our secrets and our powers corrupted in their unworthy hands, whilst the Ministry wrestles with the minutiae of the Dark Artifacts Regulation Act,” the older Black continued, and still Lily looked at Potter with naked admiration. Such courage, such chivalry, mocking Dumbledore’s critics in Dumbledore’s own school.

“That's easy, Granger,” Regulus interjected. “You know it was Godric Gryffindor who insisted that the admissions book include every magical child. We could, you know, just have someone alert us when a new name turns up, if they're not born to a proper family. That's what the Trace was originally for, you know.”

“Not according to Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione rebutted. Another issue of hers, she could never help correcting people. Sadly, Black had deep roots in their society, and he reminded her in no uncertain terms that he had a headmaster's portrait in his living room and that she would do well not to correct her betters.

What an ass, he could hear her think, and quietly assented. Even an ass, though, was better than an inveterate criminal.

“Not everyone are as psychotic about it as the Blacks, mate,” Avery said. “Don’t scare our half-blood friend here, you know we want him to join. We don't need to kill their babies, we don't have to stoop to their level.

Severus could feel Hermione tense up, but he could not understand why. Nothing Avery’d just said was false. “We could just... have a separate school for them, to teach them respect for our ways. Then if they prove themselves, their children could study here.”

“Or we do nothing and let them blow themselves up,” a more practical minded younger Slytherin suggested. “Or take their babies and raise them like useful servants, without access to wands, of course,” Matilda chimed in.

The conversation turned to the many ways the Muggle-born question could be dealt with, and Hermione grew pale beside him.

“You can't possibly want to join them, Severus! Listen to them!”

Didn't he? He was wiser, now, than he was at 11. His desperate attempt to cling to Lily had failed long ago, not before costing him years of isolation from the other Slytherins. Of course he would have wanted for it all to be different, for the world to be simple. But it couldn't be. And Severus loved magic too much, and knew the muggles too well, to be that much of an idealist.

“It's rule or be ruled, Hermione,” he said with a shrug. “What makes you think the muggles or their children would rush to help you?”

Hermione had a peculiar (and aggravating) tendency to be very certain of herself, as regards what was right or wrong, and what Severus could or could not possibly want, and then crumble at the first sign of resistance. For all her fiery opposition, he expected her to have a better counter-argument than “But if you believe that, how is the world ever going to change?”

Who said he wanted to change the world? What if he had just–finally–understood it, and how he could thrive in it? And why did Hermione seem so convinced it was down to him how the world would turn out?

There was no use denying it, though. He liked that she made him feel important. He buttered his own toast and smiled at her, and she smiled wanly back. She was almost perfect, and it was far more than he had hoped for not so long ago.

[loungemermaid]

If I have to listen to one more person defending Asterid leaving Katniss at the end of Mockingjay. I am going to THROW UP.

If it were really about “preserving her mental health” or whatever, she would’ve at least said GOODBYE to her seventeen-year-old SUICIDAL daughter, and not left her completely alone with only a known alcoholic to care for her.

People really be in here saying it was too much for Mrs Everdeen to go back to Twelve, citing every traumatic thing that has ever happened to her as an excuse, when there is no good enough reason to leave your minor child alone in that state. Especially not when she is the one who took care of you for her entire adolescence.

I think the ugly truth is frankly that Mrs Everdeen saw her as a burden, a reminder of her old life (her dead husband, and other dead daughter). I think she wanted to start over with a clean slate, and forget about everything, including Katniss. Why else would she move so far away, and only leave a phone number, not a letter or an apology?

And when they talk in the phone if I remember correctly, it’s only about Prim, not even a mention or an ask about how Katniss is doing

So. this leads me to my question:

Do you think Mrs Everdeen ever preferred Prim? I think it’s possible she viewed her as the “easier” child (she was more like Asterid, she forgave her immediately after her depressive episode, and she wasn’t difficult about being loved)? And that she refused be around for her partly because of that, and partly because she was just a reminder of all her old ghosts?

(Sorry, this ask was so long)

Don’t be sorry and I FEEL YOU.

And yes, I think she preferred Prim. Whether it’s subconsciously or consciously I find it very interesting that the daughter she prefers is white presenting.

Some people see the March’s banner in the window of SOTR as like, something they have to do, part of the Square’s decoration but I take it much more like a Trump sign than something that they had no choice in. I think the March’s represent people that buy into the lie and propaganda, against their own best interests. Their last name is very telling. Yes, March is a month, spring, life, renewal. A month named for a god of war. And of course, marching is something armies do.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is this is the environment Asterid grew up in. A family of true believers, of patriots, that disown their daughter for jumpin’ the fence and race-mixing. A daughter that doesn’t seem like she did a lot of connecting with her new community. She don’t even know to make soup beans when someone dies.

There are a lot of people that think the end of the work of anti-racism is done and dusted by having babies of color. People who, unconsciously or otherwise, treat said children differently. I’m very white, I can’t really speak to this in this way, but I know what I’ve seen and I’ve listened to people share their experiences. I’ve seen my wife being treated differently because they’re Indigenous, in their own house by their own family. Snide remarks, comments, etc.

The “niceness” Asterid shows is laying out a dress that she used to wear. Guilt offerings that explicitly make Katniss uncomfortable. She never says sorry, she makes excuses in the Justice Building, she throws herself into work after Prim’s death, and leaves without saying a word.

I’ve said before I think Asterid never really grew up, and I really think it shows, because even Snow says he’s sorry for Katniss’s loss. And her own mother doesn’t do a thing. If there were some great moment where Asterid held Katniss, came to hold her hand, cared for her and sat and cried with her, we would’ve seen it. Asterid takes everything personally with little regard for how anyone else is feeling in the moment. Her husband’s death is only about her. Her daughter’s death is also only about her. She doesn’t support anyone else, she doesn’t lean on anyone else, she lets herself drown. She believes she is uniquely affected by grief because she probably grew up (and didn’t unpack) thinking she was uniquely special. Individualism and exceptionalism is brain poison.

Asterid running to Four mirrors her running from the Merchant class, running from her parents. And she may have fought with her parents every day of their lives, she may have thought herself a rebel, clearly she believes she’s “with it” because of who she married. In fact I’d say she thinks it makes her more exceptional. I can’t speak for mixed race women with white mothers, I can’t speak for women of color, but I can speak for white women that think they’re exceptional because they’re liberal in a conservative family/environment. It is so easy to run, to say you’re not like them. It’s harder to do the work of unlearning, of confronting when you’re being what you were trained to be. When you’re racist, when you’re classist, when you feel uniquely tragic in your white womanhood. It’s easy to grow complacent, and overall I think that’s Asterid’s biggest crime. Complacency, individualism, and the belief that she is uniquely affected by suffering. To the detriment of her relationship with her only surviving family.

[welcome-to-ratterrock]

if these characters were humans in like another universe 😭

would they be religious and what religion? do they already have a religion?

The characters definitely have relationships with religion in the comic, so I’m going to address what happens in the canon verse since it applies to their human selves (with the exception of the Nightshades). Long post ahoy!

The majority of the rodent population/society in this story is very much a reflection of human society. Because mice and rats live beneath the human world and very much live off of it, their society is essentially an echo of it. As Baji once said, “It reflects our world, but on a smaller scale.”

So man made creations are utilized by the mice/rat population for their own purposes, with their own unique takes on them. Rodents borrow/make copies of artwork and literature and music that humans have created - there’s no Mouse Vincent Van Gogh or Mouse Charlotte Brontë, but there’s mouse made copies of “Starry Night” and “Jane Eyre”, if that helps explain it. They take what they want from human society and either copy it as closely as they can, or they refashion it to suit their purposes.

This includes religion. Rodents are aware of the concept of God, a figure named Jesus, how Christianity and Judaism and other major religions work/influence the world of humans because the human world directly affects their own. They are influenced the most by the humans they had the closest contact to. The family that lives above them is Catholic? They follow Catholic traditions. If a Jewish human family had to move because of a pogrom, the mouse family under them would have to leave too.

Now, like I said, there are some twists/adaptions made. Rodents revere food above all else, and that has influenced how they view certain religious beliefs. In regards to Christianity, mice take this particular passage very literally:

And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.

So there’s this idea in Rodent Christianity (a term I never thought I would write) that Christ is akin to bread, or even that he literally is bread, nourishing and sustaining. So they’ve gotten “Christ” and “crust” mixed up a bit - they’ll say things like “Holy Crust!” or “Sweet Crust!”

NOW, having gotten all of that established…let’s see where our crew of characters fall in this scheme…

Regal is a staunch atheist. The Regal’s were raised Catholic, but he doesn’t have any inclination or interest towards religion of any sort - he has come to see it as a way to control people, shame them into behaving themselves so they’re easier for people in power to control. Honestly, I can’t see any of the remaining Regal family members being religious. They attended mass as children but it never was something they really connected with - Sorcha enjoyed the music, but she hates being lectured and that’s what sermons felt like for her. None of them are fans of the hypocrisy that the church holds, either, nor that their sexual preferences are seen as sinful…so yeah, I can’t see any of them wanting to go back to mass.

Locke has faith in science and justice, in facts and data, and that’s it - he and Regal definitely connected over both of them being atheists. His family went to church because it was the “proper and respectable thing to do”, but Little Locke would constantly question the pastor and freaked everyone in his Sunday school out when he told them the science behind crucifying.

Levi is Jewish, and he keeps kosher and takes part in major holidays. He’s very proud of being Jewish and I think he genuinely believes in a loving God, but I don’t think he attends temple all that often if at all since he’s never hidden that he’s a sex worker and the people there would definitely shun him because of his profession. Abraham is also very proud of being Jewish, and is very much an atheist.

Rilla attends church with her father because it’s expected of a wealthy, blue blood, but struggles with faith after her mother died. She believes in kindness and compassion and generosity, and doesn’t feel like those are solely Christian things.

Brig is also an atheist, she’s had way too much experience about the cruelty done in the name of religion. Her mother believed very strongly in the lore of fairies, the ways of the old country, and Brig still keeps that alive in her own way by celebrating Beltane and Samhain and Yule.

Luella was raised Christian and I think she identifies as one still, but she struggles with it very much. She’s very conscious of the hypocrisy and cruelty done in the name of religion, and constantly reflects on how there’s so much cruelty and unkindness and tragedy in the world…why would a loving God allow that? But at the same time, she prays almost daily and believes so deeply in giving grace and practicing selflessness and kindness. She has faith, but she struggles.

As for Bogdan and Casimir and their mother, they’re unique in that they have the only purely rodent born religion in that they revere the stars and the moon. They believe that when a bat dies, their soul sheds its mortal body to ascend as a star, safe in the eternal night with the maternal moon to watch over them. Charting the stars is not just pragmatic, but deeply spiritual. They have many fables and tales about the moon and the stars and bats who now look down on them from the sky…as humans, I think that would translate into considering astrology akin to spirituality. But that’s something we’re still exploring!

As more characters enter the story we’ll be touching on their relationship to their respective religion! Thank you so much for this question, it really let me deep sea dive into the lore of our world!

[vaya-writes]

Not Quite A Life Debt - 2

A handful of f reader insert scenes with m demonic love interests. Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smutty shenanigans that lean kind of poly.

You (kind of unnecessarily) tried to save Ludwig’s life. Out of pity, he lets you crash at his place for a few weeks after. It probably wouldn’t be so bad, but he doesn’t live alone. Reader stays with the triplets until she gets back on her feet. Smut, family shenanigans, and possibly even romance ensues.

You settle in and meet Ludwig's family. There's a bit of a mix up regarding what humans can safely eat, and the start of some bonding with Obie. 3300 words.

Content warnings for this chapter include references to the last chapter (recovery from injury, very brief use of an inhaler, and mention of alcoholism), profanity, detailed food descriptions, food not safe for human consumption, someone (not reader) calls themself ugly and believes it. Divider by firefly-graphics. Also tagging @eldritch-spouse so she knows her clowns are being featured again.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous - Next

You’re pretty dazed when you step into Perdition.  

The events leading to this moment were stressful. Losing so much in so little time, having nowhere to turn; it’d all be overwhelming on its own. As it is you’re trying very hard not to break down in front of Ludwig, your new acquaintance.  

But moving to hell? That’s a whole new level of crazy you’re not quite ready to deal with.  

You take in your surroundings with a distant sort of interest. Ludwig leads you through a rough looking neighbourhood. It’s not the nicest place, sure, but you’re taken aback at how mundane the place is. Sure, there are demons in every window, and clustered around some doors and corners. There’s the flash of magic here and there, and things you'd rather not look too closely at. But it had never occurred to you that demons would require housing too. Would have their own suburbs and addresses. 

You’d laugh if it wouldn’t trigger a coughing fit. 

“So, I know you’re probably feeling,” Ludwig glances down at you, searching for a tactful word, “delicate, about now. But there’s a chance my family will be home.” 

“Yeah?” Your voice is hoarse. 

“Yeah. We were supposed to do dinner this week. But then you were in hospital and I had to postpone. My brothers will probably be lurking around until that’s dealt with.” 

Meeting people. You could handle that. Perhaps not right now, when you’re still clad in a hospital gown, and stumbling from exhaustion. But maybe after a nap? 

“Ok.” 

You travel another block or so before Ludwig comes to a stop before a two story home. It’s fairly unremarkable, if a little worn down. You might call it well lived in. 

He mutters a curse. “They’re home.” 

You wince. “I haven’t-” you hesitate to say you haven’t met a demon before. After all, you’ve known Ludwig for about a day. But still, meeting more than one right now is intimidating as fuck. Being here makes you nervous enough that you almost forget the week you’ve had. “Uh. Is there anything I should know before I meet them?” 

Ludwig frowns. Bothered, but it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Do you need a crash course in demonology?” 

“Uh,” you just want to sit down. “Not today?” 

His face crinkles some more. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, with his eyes always kind of closed. He lets out a long breath. “Obie is a glutton. Literally. He’s chill, but don’t leave anything small around him. Or your food unattended, if you’re particularly attached to it. And Mervin is a pride demon. He talks a lot of shit that he only means half the time. Expect to be criticised. It’s absolutely a front, but he can’t help it.” 

You bite your lip. “Sounds... kind of stereotypical?” 

“They’re stereotypes for a reason.” 

You realise you’re missing a key piece of information. “And you are..?” 

He blinks. (You think.) Then cracks the first smile you’ve seen him give. “Not obvious then?” 

You look him over. He’s of average build, a light red in colour, hooded eyes that he barely keeps open, and a set of ribbed horns of moderate size. Perhaps his type might be obvious to another demon, but you don’t know enough about demonic physiology to hazard a guess. 

“You slept through a building fire. Are you from Sloth?” 

He leans back, surprised, you think. “I’m from the common ring. Type is genetic.” 

You wait. 

“I thought you’d guess based on,” he waves at himself, “colour, but yeah, sleeping through a fire is a bit...” he trails off. “Let’s not tell my family about that.” He stands straighter, recovering. “I’m actually a wrath demon.” 

  You should probably feel something when he tells you that. Concern. Fear. Something. But you’re experiencing something akin to post exertional malaise. And it’s definitely rounding off your thoughts with apathy.  

You shrug. “Okay.” 

He seems confused. “Okay?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Okay. How am I supposed to react?” 

You’re pretty sure he’s staring. But after a moment he slouches. His voice softens. “Did you have any questions?” 

“Is there anything you think I should know?” 

He turns away. “Uh- not really. I... I know humans can scare easily. I’ve a bit more awareness of my outbursts than some wrathful types. Just... I suppose, ask before touching my things?” 

It sounds easy enough. You look up at the house with a sigh. “Alright. Can we get this meeting over with? I’d like to shower and then sleep for another week if possible.” 

He smiles again; the slight turning up of his lips. “That could be arranged.” 

--- 

Any other day and you’d be intimidated as fuck. Strange house, strange people, strange new rules, and you don’t know the half of them.  

You take comfort in the fact that Ludwig’s brothers are just as surprised to see you. The purple one – Mervin, you learn – stares daggers at you, silently contemptuous. Obie, the yellow demon with crooked horns, at least smiles, and shakes your hand.   

Then Ludwig is whisking you away to the spare room. “This used to be ma’s room. She didn’t leave a lot behind, but there might be an outfit or two. There’s an ensuite so you can have that shower you wanted.” 

“An ensuite and nobody uses this room?” 

He snorts. “We could never agree who got the room after ma moved out. To put things lightly.” 

The room is plain but it’s the nicest you’ve stayed in in a long time. The bed and wardrobe alone are luxurious compared to the hotel you’d been staying in. The clothes are a different matter.  

After rummaging through the drawers you hold up some pants, and try not to frown. “I think your mum’s body type is very different to mine.” 

Ludwig eyes the pants and huffs. “Yeah. I’ll see if anything of mine would fit you better.” 

He brings you some supplies. A towel. Clothes. Some soap. And then you’re left alone.  

--- 

Obie manages to keep his questions to himself. Even Mervin had kept his comments to a minimum, instead leveling Ludwig and his human with looks that could be deciphered as exasperated. Appalled. They wait until Ludwig comes back downstairs before facing him. Even then, they managed to hold off a little longer, until the sound of the shower begins upstairs, before giving him a proper dressing down. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” 

“You missed ma’s birthday for a human? Do you know how devastated she was? You could have called? Texted? Sent a fucking letter-” 

Ludwig sighs. Claps Mervin over the back of the head – somewhat viciously - before sitting at the table. “I did call, Merv. I told ma what had happened and got her damn blessing to stay on the surface. You’re just mad I didn’t tell you.” 

“Of course I’m mad. I cleared my schedule for this! What could be so important that you could just blow us off?” 

Ludwig laces his fingers under his chin. Would happily tell Mervin- if he hadn’t kept ranting. Pacing around the kitchen, gesticulating with anger. He shares a look with Obie, one honed by decades of dealing with the pride demon’s antics together. 

Obie understands. Gets up. Herds Mervin into a chair (even as he keeps talking). Cages him in with hands on his shoulders. 

“Shut up, will you? Do you want his explanation or not?” 

Mervin cuts off, sneering at his brothers. “Fine. Speak.” 

Ludwig grits his teeth. Has to swiftly decide which parts of the event to share. Not the drunkenness. That would just worry them. And if he tells them what you actually did to help, they’d probably experience the same bewilderment, the same condescension as he had. Mervin would have nothing but scorn for you, forever mocking your intelligence.  

“I was doing a layover in some backward little town when the locals tried to hate crime me.” 

His brothers straighten, attention immediately caught. 

“I’m fine. Obviously.” 

“What did they-” 

“They set the hotel on fire.” Ludwig huffs at their expressions. “I know right? Anyway, the girl tried to step in and help. People weren’t happy about it. She lost her home for the trouble. I offered to let her stay here or a while.” 

Mervin almost fluffs up, objections ready to spill, but Obie beats him to it: “That doesn’t explain why you were gone for several days.” 

Ludwig winces. He supposes they will find out about your blunder after all. “She’s been in hospital. She charged into the fire to try and help me. Inhaled a lot of smoke.” 

Mervin scoffs. “So she’s stupid.” 

Obie digs his fingers into Mervin’s shoulders. “Sounds like she’s kind.” 

Ludwig shrugs. “A bit of both, from what I can tell.” 

Mervin still sneers. “And nobody else could take her?” 

“No. I did not get that impression.” 

Obie shrugs. “Then there’s only one thing for it. She stays.” 

Mervin frowns. He’s definitely going to complain. But Ludwig spears him with a look that leaves little room for argument. 

Instead he stands. Scoffs, as he shoulders Obie aside. “You’re a bunch of soft-hearted fools.”  

--- 

The family dinner is rescheduled for the next day. You don’t care for the details, as long as you’re allowed to sleep. Using a real bed, in a quiet room is a wonderful treat compared to sleeping in a hospital ward.  

You woke when Ludwig had knocked. He’d brought you a bag of chips – a surface brand you recognise. You tore into those rather than risk the kitchen and running into the other occupants of the house. 

You’re not sure how much time had passed when you finally creep downstairs, drawn by the smell of cooking food. You’d slept in. Presumably. With the strange lighting in Perdition, the lack of clocks in your room, and your phone being flat, you haven’t an idea of the time.  

The yellow one is busy in the kitchen, cooking with practiced ease. There’s meat in a frying pan, while eggs cook in another. You watch as Obie cracks an egg open– it's large, too round, and certainly not from a chicken. You almost miss the way he tosses the shell. It flies in a perfect arc before landing in his open mouth.  

You hide your wince before making your way to the dining table. Ludwig sits at it, in deep conversation with another yellow demon. This one a plump woman with her hair styled neatly. You try not to stare, but she’s honestly the first demon you’ve seen with hair. 

Her deep green eyes flick to you and she smiles. Her voice is pleasant. Sweet. “This is her?”  

Ludwig nods, and introduces you to his mother, Katia.  

She seems lovely; fussing over you while you wait for dinner and asking if you’re well. She asks about your pain, your sleep, how you’re settling in. When the conversation meanders back towards herself and her family she chats about her sons in a way that’s frankly endearing. You catch a darkness on Ludwig’s cheeks that might even be blush.  

You actually manage to relax, smiling and nodding along politely, answering questions here and there. Thankfully she doesn’t ask you anything too personal. It goes on until Mervin joins you at the table and Obie brings out the food. 

You stand and offer to help, to set the table, but Obie and Katia brush you off, the later insisting that you’re a guest, that you’re unwell – you should be resting.  

They’re not wrong. Even the small amount of conversation that you’ve made has left your throat feeling agitated. You have to use your new inhaler before settling in for food.  

Obie serves you your plate. There’s eggs, toast, sausages, and fried meat. It all looks familiar, but distinctly off. The egg yolks are too small, too green. The meats have an almost purple sheen. The toast is oddly shaped, like it had risen differently. 

Still, you don’t want to be rude. 

It’s been said that you’re a little stupid.   

You certainly do nothing to detract from that argument when you cut a small piece of meat and toast and take a bite. 

In your defence, you’re hungry. You’re being polite. You don’t want to rock the boat by asking somebody to accommodate for your very basic and important needs. 

Regardless, you can’t help but hesitate at the taste. You chew carefully and swallow while sensation spreads across your tongue. 

“So... what are we eating?” 

Four heads turn your direction. They blink. 

“Oh fuck,” Ludwig swears. 

You pale at his oath, freezing before you can cut another bite. 

The taste begins to sink in. Savory. Rich. Intense. It’s nearly overwhelming the way your mouth alights. You do your best to keep a straight face, but fail.  

Mervin mutters something. Some insult. Some comment on your intellect. While Obie jumps up. Fetches a glass from the kitchen and fills it with water. “I’m so sorry, Bon. I completely forgot- here, drink.”  

The water helps. Barely. It still takes a minute for the taste to start to fade. You end up drinking the whole glass, hoping to dilute the taste of whatever the fuck you just ate. Not that it was bad. Just... unexpected. Overwhelming. You’d never had a taste threaten to overwhelm you before. It's certainly a new sensation. 

There’s a myriad of embarrassed looks around the table. You’re glad you’re not the only one. Hoping to diffuse the tension, you joke “Nothing poisonous I hope?” 

Obie shakes his head. He looks almost downtrodden. “No. Just... food local to these parts. I forgot that humans aren’t used to it.” 

“I’ve some junk food stashed in my room,” Ludwig stands, “Earth brands, so it should be safe.” 

Obie shifts, “yeah, about that...” 

Ludwig stills. Stares hard at his brother, you think, before turning and stomping towards his room.  

There’s a silence before- 

“You insatiable fucking rat. What have I told you about touching my things?”  

“Mervin, go stop your brother from getting too worked up.” Katia intercedes, calm as still water. “Obie, you need to replace what you took. Now.”  

Obie grumbles and stands. He picks up his plate and literally tips the contents into his mouth, jaw unhinging impressively to accommodate the mouthful.  

You try not to gape.  

He turns to you. “Wanna come with? You can pick out the foods you like?” 

You glance towards the hallway, where you can hear two raised voices, now coming closer. It’s an easy choice. 

You join Obie by the door, stepping into the sneakers Ludwig had leant you. “Sure.” 

--- 

 It’s an effort not to gawk at everyone you pass. Now that you’re rested and slightly more cognisant, everything around you seems novel. You’d flitted from small town to small town for most of your life. Hadn’t seen many monsters at all, let alone demons.  

Here, they’re everywhere. And you notice, with gradually increasing discomfort, that they’re also very much aware of you. 

You make it to a market. Obie grabs a shopping trolley and leads you towards the ‘interspecies foods’ aisle. They have a basic selection of human foods there, but there’s enough that you won’t have to eat the same thing every day. Mostly. 

Obie carefully picks out some sweets and chip packets, scowling all the while. “I can’t even remember the specifics. Do you think he’ll notice if I get the wrong chocolates?” 

You spare him a glance, before going back to monitoring your surroundings. There are even more eyes on you now. “I don’t know. As long as you get him a kind he likes?” 

He hums his agreement, and starts filling the cart, comically emptying out an entire shelf. 

“I think people are staring.” 

“There’s a glutton in a grocery store, of course they’re staring. You gonna pick what you want?” 

“Will they take my money?” 

He pauses to consider. “No.” 

Your stomach picks a bad time to rumble. 

Obie gives you a pat on the head. “Not to worry. This time it’s on me.” 

You’re relived, but your anxiety only lessens marginally. This family is already housing you. You don’t want to rely on them for food too. Gratitude tends to run thin in the face of inconvenience.  

You pick out a couple of things. Sandwich fodder. Cup noodles. Milk. But Obie doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance and empties out several more shelves of your favoured foods. Soon you have enough stock to last you weeks.  

Maybe he does notice. Because he prompts you to pick something else. Firmly redirects you towards the aisle again when you make to leave. “Nobody goes hungry in our house.” 

Until the shopping trolley is full. To the point where overflow is a risk. You watch Obie balance more onto the precarious pile, impressed by how much he’s managing to carry. 

The sight fills you with amusement. Enough that your anxieties ease, if only for the moment.  

But once you leave the store, your concerns resurface.  

“They’re still staring.” 

You can’t help but glance down at yourself, self-conscious. You are wearing a pair of tights from Katia’s supply and one of the shirts Ludwig had leant you. It’s oversized, but not horrendously so. 

“Don’t worry, Bonbon, they’re staring at me.” 

There’s that nickname again. It’s sweet. Almost ridiculously so, and you’re not sure if you’ve done anything to earn it. It distracts you enough that you almost forget the stares. But you can’t help but circle back to them.  

You don’t really believe him. Maybe some of the stares are levelled at him? But it seems to you that everyone is gawking at the human. 

“Why would they be staring at you?” 

“Well, I’m kind of ugly.” 

Your head jerks in his direction, unbidden. You haven’t heard somebody describe themselves so frankly since- well you’re not sure if you ever have. 

You regard him carefully. Search for the source of his comment. He’s the same build as his siblings. Yellow, in a pallor that is obviously inhuman. Average, as far as demons go, with two horns and tail. His horns are asymmetrical; curved and bent unusually. He has the same thin spade tail as his brothers, except the length of his is visibly kinked in several places. It lacks fluid movement – twitchy almost in a way that makes you think of broken bones and nerve damage.  

Still. You wouldn’t consider him ugly. Just different. “Are you?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs. Gestures to what you had observed. His horns. His tail. 

His casual demeanour is almost forced. You start to suspect that he was being quite serious when he called himself ugly. 

It bothers you enough that you step closer to him and speak in a murmur, “you look fine to me.” 

He huffs a smile. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it.” 

His lightness irks you. You almost pout. “Nobody here looks normal to me. I don’t know what demons are supposed to look like. So you can believe my unbiased opinion when I tell you that you look fine.” 

He looks away. Seems to consider. Before shrugging. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

You can tell he’s not taking you seriously. This time you do pout. You push past your discomfort and link your elbow with his.  

His head whips towards you, surprised at the contact. 

You ignore his shock. “I’ve got a lot of gaps in my knowledge about demons. Want to fill me in while we head back?” 

He turns away, quiet for a moment, before shrugging again. “What did you want to know?” 

Next