#but i cant see any way to fix it without moving on?

[a-luyarus]

Shattered Skies

Chapter Eight: Sacrificial Means

[be-good-to-bugs]

maybe i WILL get to move back home

[crguang]

wasted with longing, part 3

Knowing Kafka is a rollercoaster of emotions you can’t escape from no matter how much you beg to touch the ground.

friends with benefits, f!reader, some domestic bliss before the storm, 6.5k words

A/N: no smut warning woah…. actual development woahhh… cant believe i wrote this much without throwing in some sex i think i might like this criminal :/

part two part four

“So… Can I come in?”

Kafka’s self-assured tone sounds lazy, indifferent to the predicament she finds herself in, and her lips are fixed in that practiced smile like she’s genuinely happy to see you despite bleeding through her shirt on your doorstep. You stare at her disheveled state, a hundred questions dancing on your tongue and unable to voice any of them. Instead, you open the front door wider and urgently usher her into your apartment with a hand wrapped around her uninjured bicep. Kafka makes a sound of surprise, though it fails to convey any. She lets herself be moved and quietly walks further inside your place. 

“What happened?” The door shuts behind you, but you’re already leading her down the hallway towards your small bathroom. “Where do you even come from?!”

Your words quaver more than you would like as you flip the switch and motion for her to sit on the toilet seat. You can feel her eyes on you while you messily rummage through the cupboards beneath the sink, pushing old medicine bottles aside and cleaning products out of the way. The weight in your stomach grows heavier the longer you search for your first-aid kit, shutting the wooden cupboards and throwing open the one behind the mirror desperately. Apart from prescribed and over the counter medication, you find nothing that would be of help at this moment.

“Where is it?… Fuck, where is it?!” You lay your palms flat on the counter, head dropping low to think. 

“Calm down,” Kafka says calmly, a slightly amused lilt in her voice, “I’m not going to die.”

You ignore her horrible attempt at reassuring you and try to recall when was the last time you used the bandages in the kit. You cut yourself cooking some weeks ago but you remember going to the bathroom to fish them out… It has to be around here somewhere. You bite your bottom lip anxiously, your pulse in your ears like an oppressive presence, and force yourself to take in a breath so you don’t succumb to your panic. If it’s not in this room, it must be laying in your storage closet. You spare the other woman a glance to find her already looking at you, obediently silent. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain but you know it’s a facade, you’re only taken aback by how easy it is for her to pretend that nothing is amiss. You straighten up, run a hand over your face to clear your head and order her not to move before walking out to find the aforementioned closet.

You make an even bigger mess of your storage closet as you search for the med kit, lifting boxes you don’t recognize and throwing plastic bags full of random trinkets out in the hallway. Your heart is in your throat, you can feel your eyes sting with the familiar weight of unshed tears, but you can’t stop looking. The thought of Kafka bleeding out before anything is done appears in your distressed mind and worsens your anxiety despite the probability of it happening being low. If this wound turns out to be something you can’t stabilize on your own, you’ll call the emergency services. You push aside a basket filled with yarn, letting  out a shuddering breath at the sight of a clear case with a red cross on it. You waste no time grabbing it and heading for the bathroom, not bothering to close the closet door. When you walk back in, Kafka has managed to take off her bloody shirt and is facing the mirror over the sink, a hand still applying firm pressure on her shoulder. She turns your way to acknowledge you and takes a peek at the box in your hands. 

“What are you doing? Sit down,” you swallow the lump in your throat so you don’t sound as strained. 

Putting the kit on the counter and lifting the lid, you take out a few non-stick bandages. From your peripheral vision, you see Kafka complying with your shaky command and suppressing a chuckle. She hasn’t said much so far, which is uncharacteristic of her quick witted nature. You pick up a clean face towel from one of the shelves in the corner and rinse it with warm water. You step in front of her and gesture to the wound.

“Let me clean it.”

Once again, Kafka doesn’t protest. Her guarded gaze is on you, following every twitch of your brows and inaudible intake of breath, almost sizing you up as you lean in close to treat her wound. Her small smile is frozen on her face, and you can’t tell what it’s meant to convey anymore. She carefully takes her hand off her shoulder. The small puncture wound leaves a bloody trail down her skin, but even you can tell that it’s no longer bleeding profusely; the worries filling your head shrink and finally allow you to think more rationally. You bring the wet towel to her skin. You’re more meticulous with your hands than you thought you could be, softly washing away the specks of dried blood on her shoulder and around the injury. At this distance you see faint bluish veins that you had no reason to notice before, they slither down her neck and fade away above her collarbone. You wipe the deep red from her usually flawless skin, brushing over it with a mindfulness opposite from the lustful touches you’re accustomed to; your sole intention is to soothe her pain instead of taking pleasure from her. You are suddenly aware of her proximity in this unfamiliar context. She sits close without the headiness of sex, quiet and alert, and you can feel the warmth of her body from where you stand, your head is bowed and one of her thighs rests between yours. 

Kafka looks up at you through her lashes but you have no way of understanding the light behind her eyes. You think perhaps all of her strength goes to withstand the pain she’s in. You still feel your beating heart against your ribcage, its erratic pace gently growing steady, while her chest rises and falls easily. Your breaths fill the silence around you. As the cloth delicately clears away the blood, you sneak a glance at her and your eyes meet. Your hand falters on her skin. Her rosy-lilac irises speak of tenderness that does not fit her, like a deceiving front to conceal her emotional distance. You see them but there is nothing beyond them, nothing that she allows you to glimpse at. Even so, you’re privy to a side of her you don’t yet know. There’s still traces of blood on her cheek she meant to wipe off before seeing you, and without thinking, you lift the towel higher to clean it off with a few smooth strokes. Kafka blinks once and you do the same rapidly, sharply turning away from her piercing stare to finish dressing her wound. In the stillness of your home, new truths are unknowingly written. 

To stop the bleeding and prevent infections, you take out square non-adhesive bandages and peel one of them off. She’ll have to see an actual doctor for treatment, but you realize that the situation is not as bad as you initially thought. The sight of her bloody shirt and glove terrified you at first glance; you slowly realize that all of it must not have been hers. Unease settles in your stomach a second time. What could she possibly be implicated in to show up at your door with an injury like this?

“Why’d you come here?” You ask softly now that the worst has passed, eyes focused on carefully applying the bandage to her skin. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital for this?” 

“Wasn’t serious enough,” Kafka replies nonchalantly. She gazes at your furrowing brows and incredulous expression like she’s been doing since you opened the door. She doesn’t answer the first question.

“Serious enough? Your shirt is dyed red. How’d you even get this?”

“It’s just a gunshot wound. A little Band-Aid should fix me right up.”

“What the fuck?!”

In your loud disbelief your fingers press into the small hole in her shoulder and Kafka winces, clenching her jaw tightly. You quickly withdraw your hand. The bandage is halfway peeling off from her skin and she brings a gloved hand up to properly apply it herself. 

You step back from her frame, lips parted in incredulity. “You got shot?”

Kafka uses her free hand to peel off the second bandage and apply it over the first one, not looking at you as she does so. “Relax, the bullet didn’t go all the way in and I already took it out. It’s a minor scrape now.”

“You got shot?”

“Ugh, not so loud… I’ve had a long day.”

“You need to see a doctor. Are you insane?”

She raises her head towards you. “I don’t need a doctor, just a place to stay until tomorrow.”

You swallow thickly, lifting a hand to your hairline and pacing back and forth in the enclosed space. You can’t believe what she’s saying. No normal person just gets shot on a random Thursday and acts so nonchalant about it— having seen the proof of it, your mind is reeling with questions you’re not sure you want the answers to. Kafka has always had an air of mystery around her and the kind of confidence that makes you think that she’s invincible. Looking at her now, sitting in your bathroom after you tended to her wound and seemingly unbothered by the favor she’s asking of you, your chest constricts with a foreboding feeling you can’t name. Your gaze drops to her discarded shirt on the floor. You want to ask her what she’s done, whose blood is on her clothes, but your throat tightens as if begging you to keep your mouth shut. Kafka watches the emotions play out on your face and speaks up again.

“You stayed home.”

It takes a few seconds to meet her eyes, your reply agitated, “What?”

“Last time we talked, I told you not to go to work today. Despite your lack of trust in me, you stayed home. Why?”

She seems to be genuinely wondering why, but you don’t have an answer to give her. You don’t know. There was something about the seriousness with which she suggested you call out of work that made you uneasy come this morning, all traces of her usual aloofness were gone, even if she meant for her delivery to be casual so as to not rouse any suspicions. It was a split decision, you picked up your phone and called in sick before fully understanding the implications of your actions. You trusted your gut, not her. 

“Something came up,” you lie instead and confront her, “You knew something was going to happen today— or planned to come by, that’s why you wanted me here, right? You know I get off work at 7 and I wouldn't have been home.”

Kafka gives nothing away but you know she doesn’t believe your white lie. If she feels anything about this show of distrust, she keeps her cards close to her chest. She shrugs with her uninjured shoulder.

“Maybe I just missed you.”

There it is, that flirty, teasing expression you’re used to seeing on her face. She’s deflecting and is for once doing a terrible job at it. She won’t tell you the truth, you know that much. Irritation burns the walls of your throat. In a way, you’re both lying to each other so you shouldn’t expect something you yourself are not ready to give her; then again, she’s the one who showed up at your door with a swelling injury and she has the guts to ask you to stay overnight while blatantly ignoring your attempts at finding out the circumstances of her situation. You don’t react to her taunt, you only cross your arms and stare at her, unamused. Your heartbeat has picked up several paces and you’re uncomfortable with the awareness of it drumming inside you. Kafka sighs in faux-exasperation. 

“It’s only for tonight. I’ll be gone in the morning.” When you don’t reply, she hesitantly adds, “Please.”

You’re torn, her stubbornness will keep her from seeking a medical expert and you have no idea what she did to get it in the first place. Either way, she’s putting herself in danger, and if you let her stay for a while at least you can make sure she doesn’t worsen her condition before her wound stops bleeding completely… You run a hand over your face. Might as well make dinner for two. 

Kafka’s in the shower and you’re chopping the vegetables you bought earlier this afternoon, your mind a few miles away as you move efficiently around the kitchen. You told her that if she was going to sleep over, she should change into more comfortable clothes. Weirdly, she didn’t make any lewd comments and simply accepted the oversized shirt and plaid pyjama pants you gave her before walking out of the bathroom.. She must have a lot on her mind too, you suppose. Maybe she’ll be more inclined to share a little later. The pasta is currently boiling so you get started on the sauce, letting it simmer on the stove while you take care of the veggies you’ll be steaming to eat as a side. The running water quickly becomes background noise while you busy yourself, a sound you’re not very used to hearing when you’re not the one showering, but the pitter-patter relaxes you a touch. You’re no longer on the edge of an anxiety attack, though worry still resides in the depths of your heart considering the situation you find yourself in. You try to focus on the dinner you’re cooking instead of the bloodstained memory of Kafka’s clothes. They’re in the washing machine now, but you remember how soaked they were vividly, crimson and haunting. You instantly thought the worst, and when suddenly confronted with the prospect of losing her, you panicked. Anyone would have reacted the same in the face of a bleeding person, you tell yourself, but you can’t deny that the thought deeply unnerves you. 

You don’t register the sound of the water being turned off. You stir the rosé sauce and lower the heat under the vegetables, then incorporate the pasta into the creamy goodness. The smell of freshly cooked pasta fills your nose and reminds you of how little you ate today. You take out two plates from a cabinet and pour a generous serving in each one, adding a little more vegetables for yourself. You’re gently laying them on the kitchen island in the middle of the room when Kafka walks in with her hair still damp from the shower. Her face is bare, her long locks loose past her shoulders, and she’s wearing the clothes you lent her. The shirt hangs around her thighs over the cotton pants, big enough to be cozy on her. She looks… mundane, more refreshed than an hour ago. In such plain attire, she doesn’t seem as enigmatic or intimidating, but rather like your average citizen. It’s a harsh contrast to the way she presents herself and the cocky, in control woman you usually see. She strides into the kitchen and leans on the island to glimpse at the food you made. You don’t realize that you’re staring until she looks at you and raises an eyebrow, a small confident smile on her lips.

“See something you like?”

You avert your gaze and turn around to take out the parmesan from the fridge. Your skin warms up from the embarrassment of getting caught, but you manage to hide your flustered expression from her sight. Your stomach buzzes with a feeling you attribute to bashfulness. This is yet another side of Kafka you’re discovering, she’s never stayed until morning light before. You’ve long exceeded the limits of what you’re familiar with tonight, the feeling is the same as the night you undressed her for the time; excitement and nervousness swirled in your belly, each caress revealing inches of unexplored skin to your eager touch. You face her again and find that in this moment, you feel no disquiet. 

“Is that for me?” Kafka sits on the stool across from you and points to one of the plates. 

You grate some parmesan on top of the pasta before pushing the portion towards her. She stares at it for a few seconds then lifts her questioning eyes to yours. She seems to hesitate for the time it takes you to pull out a fork from a drawer and give it to her, but she eventually thanks you quietly. She means it for more than dinner. You nod once in acknowledgement. 

You take a seat on the stool next to her and glance at the way she turns the fork over in her hand, looking at the food in search of answers instead of eating it. For a couple minutes there’s only the sound of metal on ceramic as you eat while Kafka is lost in thought, absentmindedly picking at her vegetables. After swallowing another bite, you decide that you’re sick of the awkward silence. 

“You don’t eat pasta?”

Kafka blinks. In an instant, her cryptic smile stretches her lips and she stabs some pasta onto her fork, sticking it into her mouth. Her face lights up after the first chew. “Mmm. Never had a home cooked meal that actually tastes like food.”

“Really?”

“I’m not much of a cook.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She purses her lips, silverware hovering in the air, though she’s not offended. 

“I just can’t picture you wearing an apron.”

“That’s because you usually picture me wearing nothing.”

You make a face but don’t refute her point, to which Kafka’s smile widens an inch. You stuff food into your mouth to give you time to think of a reply. She watches you with an amused look, leaning her chin in her hand.

“Not even a little protest…”

“Oh, shut up,” you shot back indignantly, “should’ve dropped the bottle of hot sauce on your plate…”

Kafka’s deep chuckle compels you to look at your dinner instead of her. “Makes no difference to me. My pain tolerance is pretty high, it might make the flavors pop out a bit more.”

You’re reminded of how easily she kept her composure earlier, as if getting shot at is a regular occurrence for her. Flashes of her bleeding shoulder come back to your mind and you quiet down a bit, poking a broccoli with the tip of your fork. Kafka immediately senses the shift in your mood. She pauses, watches you toy with the vegetable for a short moment, then twirls her own fork in her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she reads your mind effortlessly, “a scrape like that will heal in no time and will barely leave a scar. Besides, you won’t care much for it the next time I’m undressing in front of you.”

You roll your eyes at the innuendo but it successfully brings you out of your thoughts for the time being. You lightly shake your head.

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?”

“Not the only thing…” she drawls, but the way her gaze drops to your chest and leisurely trails up to stare into your eyes, the beginnings of a smirk on her lips, suggests otherwise. She rhythmically taps the island’s surface with a finger. 

“...Just eat your food.”

Kafka laughs softly and complies. You’re thankful for her restraint to make a dirty joke. As you both eat, the atmosphere around you shifts into a comfortable space you don’t feel the need to fill with mundanities. Still, you end up telling her about yourself after some prompting, about your friends, how it felt to move away from your parents and get your own place— even the doubts about your career and how you don’t think it’s something you want to do anymore. Kafka watches you all the while, her cheek in her palm, and comments on certain things but mostly keeps quiet. You don’t realize how much you’ve confided because she’s surprisingly an excellent listener and you get a little high from her undivided attention. Your almost empty plates lie forgotten on the kitchen island. You turn on the stool to face her fully at some point, your knees brushing her thigh, and the casual, innocent contact makes your heart race. Her presence is just as exciting outside of the context of a hookup, your pulse creates a melody for this moment. Unbeknown to you, you've already made up your mind; she looks prettier under the kitchen lights at night. 

“You should quit,” Kafka repeats the advice she told you days ago, following the movement of your head as it tips backwards in exasperation. “You can make money doing anything, you might as well enjoy what you do.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue, “my life is stable as is. I don’t even know what I want— it would be so irresponsible to drop everything just because I’m not fully satisfied with how things are now.”

“Then find out what you want and execute it.”

You sigh loudly, leaning on the island to rest your forehead on your arm. She makes it sound easy but quitting your research job in an engineering department might damage the fragments of relationship you have with your parents. You only see them a couple times a year, sometimes for a week during the summer, but they make sure to let you know how proud they are that the money they invested in you is paying off. You know they can’t control you anymore and yet, the guilt of them struggling to put you through school is ingrained in your gray matter. Despite the heavy weight they constantly put on your shoulders, you truly do want to please them. You moved to another corner of the world and can still hear your mother’s disapproving voice in your ears. 

“I wish I knew if whatever I end up doing is the right choice,” you mutter, laying your chin on your forearm and staring straight ahead. “It’d be nice to know how this all ends.”

Kafka doesn’t respond immediately. She ponders for a while, fingers drumming on the stainless steel. 

“Mmm. There’s more joy to be found in the unknown, I think,” she says after a pause. “More excitement.”

“More anxiety too.”

“They often come together, don’t they? Both make you feel alive, having one without the other might breed a certain… emptiness.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve clearly never felt anxious.”

Kafka only smiles softly. “In any case, you can’t live your life fulfilling other people’s wishes. I’ve never found selfishness to be ugly.”

Once the plates and pans are washed half an hour later, you stop by the bedroom to pick up a blanket and a pillow for Kafka to sleep with. You walk back into the living room, items under your arms, to see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, TV remote in hand. The screen is bright in the dim light and illuminates the room around it, painting moving shadows on the walls. You put the pillow down on the armrest with the folded blanket over it. Kafka is scrolling through your streaming applications and stops to acknowledge you. 

“Want to watch something?” She asks. “I don’t remember the last time I sat down for a full movie.”

The invitation is so ordinary that you hesitate for a few seconds. Watching a movie after cooking her dinner…? A corner of your mind is screaming that this sounds like a casual date but you quickly shake that thought away for its absurdity. She needed a place to stay for the night, that’s all. Once again, she’s more using you than anything else, you’re a safe place to come to because you have trouble refusing her. You prove your own theory right by accepting her offer and closing the hallway and kitchen lights before taking a seat next to her, putting a reasonable distance between you. You fold your legs on the couch and lay a forearm on the armrest as Kafka continues to scroll through the different apps. She lets out comments like “sounds boring” and “ugh” after skipping certain movies. She’s mostly talking under her breath, eyes fixed on the TV screen. The blue light applies a similar hue to her skin tone and adds vitality to her irises, they appear more vivid and alert. The sharp shadows in her hair are even darker against such a vibrant source of light and the sight of her brings to mind a beautifully composed photograph. You take a mental picture of her like this, in sleepwear with her hair free of the ponytail she puts it in every day, staring intently at the screen like a kid who’s been allowed to stay up past her bedtime. 

“What about a horror movie?” You propose, taking your eyes off her frame to look at the TV.

“No. They’re never scary. This one looks less mediocre than the others.”

You read the synopsis of a psychological thriller together. The movie doesn’t particularly speak to you but you tell her it seems nice anyway. You’re not surprised to learn that she enjoys mind games. Kafka adjusts her position on the couch so that she’s mimicking your own and presses play, leaning an elbow on the armrest to rest her cheek on top of her fist. You try to focus on the movie, the pacing is too slow to catch your tired mind’s attention for more than ten minutes at a time, and an hour passes with you sneaking glimpses at the woman next to you from your peripheral vision. She’s not close enough that you can feel her warmth like you could in the bathroom earlier, but the air around you feels the same; a sort of domestic intimacy that has no place between the two of you because you can’t imagine meaning that much to someone like her. You can’t snuff it out, no matter how many times you tell yourself to look at the scene in front of you. Since she’s waltzed into your kitchen hours ago, you can’t help noticing habits that give you the false impression that you know her. Her fingers twitch when she’s lost in thought, they typically drum on whatever surface she can get her hands on or subtly move in the air like she’s conducting a symphony. She eats her vegetables last. She doesn’t shy away from eye contact when you speak. These little things don’t make up a person, and yet, for someone who doesn’t reveal much of herself, they’re quirks that few get to see. 

Kafka is watching the movie with an unimpressed expression, which has you suppressing a smile. Occasionally, she comments on whatever is happening—mostly complaints about the direction the movie is going or how much better it would be if the human responses were more realistic. You simply nod along, already somewhat dozing off near the climax of the story. The aftermath of your anxious evening is catching up with you and you’re in a comfortable enough position at the moment, it doesn’t take long for fatigue to descend on your body. Your eyelids can’t bear their own weight and you rest your eyes for a couple of minutes, leaning your head on the armrest. You don’t witness how the movie ends. You’re falling asleep on the couch, the TV acting like background noise, and you forget that this is where Kafka is supposed to sleep. You don’t register soft fabric being laid over you, only catch sweet notes of vanilla belonging to the soap you use in the shower.

A sore ache in your neck pulls you out of a dream whose contents now elude you. Your brows twist indignantly, a muted groan vibrates along your throat, and you drowsily turn over on the couch to face the back cushions. You hear the bathroom door open and close, which eventually reminds you that you’re not alone in the house. Your eyes slowly blink open at the thought, momentarily blinded by the living room’s semi-darkness. It takes a minute to regain your bearings, you turn over a second time and notice soft threads of morning light seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. It must be a new day already, though not very early based on how gloomy it still is outside. You have the reflex to check your phone for the time and realize that you don’t remember its last location. The cozy blanket falls to your lap when you sit up to look around the room. You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you recall the events of last night; Himeko calling, opening the door to a disheveled Kafka, rushing her to the bathroom for basic treatment… In between two of those, you must have discarded your phone somewhere here out of panic and didn’t touch it once afterwards, too preoccupied by the dizzying sensation of finally seeing past Kafka’s usual demeanor. Pulling the blanket off of you, you quickly scan the coffee table and check the couch cushions in case you threw the device on it yesterday and it fell through the cracks. Your fingertips touch the silicone of your phone case deep between the cracks of back pillows. You only struggle to pull it out for a few seconds, sighing in relief when you have it back in your hands, Tapping open the screen, you learn that it is currently a little past 5 in the morning and curse under your breath at the reminder of work in a couple of hours after spending the night on your couch. You scroll down the notification screen to see if you got any last night.

You’re confused at the amount of text messages you didn’t receive due to your phone being on silent. You blink rapidly at the dozens of concerned texts wondering how you are coming from your friends and some coworkers you get along with. You got a message from Himeko right after you hung up on her, but it’s just three question marks in succession so you make a mental note to call her back this evening. Opening the multiple texts a coworker sent you, you don’t comprehend them immediately. Your thumb hovers over the screen as you read the words “Stellaron Hunters” and “infiltrated”, and in a moment of denial, you exit the conversation to open another from a friend repeatedly asking if you’re safe. They sent an article attached to the first message; it’s a publication dating from around 6 PM last night posted by an IPC affiliated news company popular in the city. You don’t feel the instant your chest stutters at its contents. Unblinking, you stare at the urgent sentences reporting an incursion in the building you’ve worked in for years by a group of people you’ve only vaguely heard of from gossip around the office. The Stellaron Hunters, interstellar criminals notorious for their worth in credits, had the means to break into the mechanical engineering research lab of the Intelligentsia Guild with the goal of stealing hardware for a machine you remember personally working on about 8 months ago. You were part of the team of researchers assigned to this project to make sure it was a viable one before it could be produced. Once the green light is given, it gets sent to the lab and is out of your hands. You recall doing extensive research for it in a small time frame because it was a priority for your supervisors to start working on it as soon as possible. Now, the key component was the target of a larceny. 

As you read, the world outside of the screen and the muffling in your ears disappears. Your digit quivers over the words “multiple casualties”. Most of them are security guards who attempted to stop the thieves in action, but some of the engineers you once met in person have also been stated as losses. Your eyes sting from being kept open for longer than a minute, you can’t hear the trembling breaths clumsily tripping past your lips either. The death toll is 19 human lives— all for a piece of hardware. Your collar seemingly constricts your throat, choking you silent. You are trapped by sudden guilt, it teasingly snakes around your guts and squeezes them tight like tentacles around an easy prey. What-ifs rush at you as if mocking your cowardice; what if you hadn't worked on this project and hadn’t allowed it to see the day, what if you switched careers like you’ve been wanting to for a long time… You don’t look at your hands but your mind supplies the image of them dipped in blood regardless. The white page of the article burns your retinas, yet you scroll further down to read the end of it. The IPC has taken matters into their own hands and sent out forces to apprehend the culprits while they still hide in the city, which does nothing to alleviate your distress because the Stellaron Hunters wouldn’t have earned a reputation if they were so easily caught. You dread the idea of facing your coworkers again after such a tragic event, even more so the simple thought of walking back into that building knowing what transpired there. You finally squeeze your eyes shut with a shaky exhale, trying not to picture red stained floors and mechanical equipment. When you open them again, the attached pictures at the end of the publication freezes the blood in your veins.

This is your first time associating faces to the group of criminals who are only ever mentioned by their faction name. The phone screen turns dark from inactivity but the wanted poster is seared into the walls of your occipital lobe, creating a reality-perfect image of the woman’s enigmatic smile and unmistakable rosy irises. Your reflection stares back at you, expressing consternation, and in the same instant, the bathroom door opens again. Heeled footsteps make their way down the hallway like a foreboding rhythm, clacking across the wooden tiles on a mission to reach the front door. The weight on your chest grows heavier once they’re close, and they eventually come to a stop behind the couch you’re sitting on. Your fingers tremble at the sound of her voice near your ears. 

“You’re awake.”

It hits you, then. What happened last night, how Kafka received that gunshot wound, her advice from earlier this week—- it was a warning rolled in a layer of passivity, a peculiar request she couldn’t tell you the extent of without revealing her hand. If you had gone to work yesterday, one of the casualties could have been you. Her and the Stellaron Hunters must have been planning this for a while, perhaps weeks or months. You feel as though you’ve fallen in the ocean from a great height in the middle of the night, an icy wave of hurt clogs your ears and has you succumbing under the tumultuous waters. 

Kafka tilts her head to the side and makes a teasing remark about you not being fully up and about, rounding the couch to wave a gloved hand in front of your face. Your head mechanically turns to look up at her. She’s dressed in the clothes she wore yesterday that she put in the dryer as you were washing the dishes. Her hair is in its everyday loose ponytail, aside from the sunglasses over her head and down to her asymmetrical boots, she’s ready to go. Her coat is on, leading you to believe that she planned to slip away while you were still asleep. Kafka observes the brewing emotions on your face and the heavy rise of your chest, then takes a quick glance at the phone still in your hands. Her relaxed smile drops an inch. You stare at each other for a moment and she doesn’t say another word during that time, reading you through the purse of your lips and the contempt in your eyes. After a minute of quiet, she lazily crosses her arms under her breasts. 

“You don’t seem scared,” she says without breaking eye contact, like she’s close to figuring you out but is missing an important variable.

You don’t dwell on the fact that you are indeed not afraid of her or what she’s capable of, mainly wounded by the amount of stuff she’s kept from you. If you knew who she was back in that store, you would have never let her approach you no matter how intriguing she looked. It’s as you think this that you realize something else; her efforts in pursuing you coincide with the time you had just finished working on that major project and you can’t help thinking that all of it might have been premeditated. Your stomach churns. 

You manage to find your voice, swallowing once to wet your dry throat. “Were you never going to tell me?” Your sentence comes out weaker than it should have, bordering on pathetic affront.

“No.”

Her honesty gives you whiplash. For all she’s lied about and omitted, she chooses to be honest when it hurts the most. 

“It was always going to play out like this,” she continues, “some things are inevitable and all possibilities are already written. This way is less gruesome than the others, don’t you think?”

“What does that mean?”

Kafka smiles with her eyes closed but instead of a comfortable familiarity, it raises the hair on your arms. 

“Well, I’m happy to know that you heeded my advice. I even looked for you and got hurt in the process. Quite chivalrous of me, isn’t it?”

Her lighthearted comment sounds like it’s meant to assuage the maelstrom of feelings mounting inside of you. It is so ridiculous, so devoid of genuine meaning, that it only stokes the burning embers under your skin. You struggle to contain your outrage, the sight of her pleased smile and indifferent posture has your fingers curl into a fist.

“Aw, don’t make that face,” Kafka uncrosses her arms and pulls at the ends of one glove so it fits snuggly on her hand, “this is the best possible outcome. I made sure of it.”

“Out.” You’re surprised the word made it out of your clenched jaw, and by its frigidity. She looks you over and even after everything, you notice the slight dip of her lips. You repeat yourself. “Get out.”

“Still upset?”

“Leave, or I will tell the authorities where you are.”

In a flash, a light glimmers in Kafka’s eyes and her features twist with amusement. “Really? You’d be accused of complicity.”

You know that. Your anger is impulsive and a darker part of you wishes to cause her turmoil like the one she’s putting you through. Kafka watches you closely. Her attention doesn’t fluster you anymore. She finds whatever answer she’s seeking in the determined stare you’re giving her. 

“Gutsy…” Her muttered reply is more directed at herself but betrays her attraction. Her eyelids drop as she glances at your lips, then she meets your gaze with a fake sigh. “Oh, fine. I’ll see you later, then.”

“No—”

Kafka lifts a hand up to wave at you cheekily and is outside the door before you can tell her that you don’t want to see her again.

[hannieehaee]

hi! i wanted to request seungcheol x reader based off of ‘how you get the girl’ by taylor swift? thank you!

content: inspired by 'how you get the girl' by taylor swift, angsty, fight between reader and cheol implied, fluff ending, etc.

wc: 738

a/n: ive never rlly listened to taylor before so im sorry if i took the lyrics out of context i tried to research the meaning of the song but i wasnt 100% sure T-T anyways tysm for requesting sorry i took so long <3

masterlist

seungcheol knew he had royally fucked up.

the details didn't matter now. it had been a while now – six months to be exact – and he still couldnt get over you. he'd see you around town occasionally, and you'd look perfectly fine. how could you be fine when he was so empty without you in his life? were you really better off without him?

he tried to move on, he really did, but no one was like you. the type of love you had was the type he wanted to be his endgame. there was no question about it. which was why he needed to fix his this.

it started with attempts to be in the same spaces as you again. he would find out where you'd be from mutual friends (okay, a little stalkerish, but it was fine!) and make sure to be in attendance to any party you'd go to. lucky for him, you were best friends with his good friends soonyoung and vernon, which gave him the perfect opening to approach you every time. at first you'd look peeved off by his presence, but after a few times you seemed to warm up to him, even laughing at his jokes sometimes. after a few weeks of intruding your friend hangouts, it was as if he'd always been there.

the day finally came in which you'd been left alone together at a party, with both soonyoung and vernon leaving one by one. it was getting late, so seungcheol offered to walk you home, which you surprisingly accepted with a polite smile. you talked like old friends on your way back, never once making any mention of the relationship you used to have. that made cheol both sad and relieved. it was good you weren't hurt by it anymore, but did this mean you were now looking for a mere friendship out of him? he had tried to bring back the old dynamics between the two of you. he had even been as physically affectionate as your newly-developed friendship would allow, but it seemed like that wasnt what you were looking for. seungcheol couldnt help but carry the disappointment in his face as the two of you arrived to your home.

"cheol? what's wrong?", you asked as soon as you caught sight of his face.

"hmm? oh, nothing. im fine. i, uh, goodnight. thanks for letting me walk you."

before he could even turn around, you pulled at his arm to grab his attention.

"cheol, what is it?"

he hesitated in speaking up again. he knew himself to be an outspoken man to a fault. and how was be expected to hold back when you looked so pretty under the moonlight and were even showing concern for him?

"i love you,"

fuck. that's not how he meant to start. and that was clearly not what you had expected him to say, judging by the shocked expression on your face.

"what?"

"im still in love with you, i- i know i fucked up, and i know i waited too long, but ... seeing you move on in life without me made me lose my mind. i know i shouldve apologized earlier. and i cant even blame you for breaking up with me, i ... i was a shitty boyfriend. i didnt treat you how you deserved. but i'll be better now, i promise! just give me one more chance. ill give you everything i shouldve back then and more. i know it's been six months, but ive been losing my mind without you. i know we could make this work. please?"

he knew he mustve looked crazy as he rambled his sudden love confession to you, but he still hoped that you'd maybe take pity on him and take him back. however, after a full minute of silence from you as you didn't meet his eyes, he knew that luck probably wouldnt be smiling at him today.

he turned to leave without a word until you unexpectedly stopped him again.

"wait, cheol," you seemed kind of shy about your movements, but still offered him a smile.

"come in? do you ... will you stay the night? please?"

your shy smile was met with his bright one as his arms warmly wrapped around yours, kissing your cheeks over and over as he used to once upon a time, walking the two of you into the apartment he was once oh so familiar with.

[miiilowo]

Highlights / Notable info from the second Scott Cawthon Dawko interview for people who don't want to watch it

MISC/START OF INTERVIEW

- scott says the 1 thing he'd wanna go back and change/fix the past 10 years is FNAF world; said a lot of weird/bad decisions were made going into it, that he didn't like the graphics and it Could Have been a good game but he doesn't like it overall & he may consider making an improved sequel

- he was scared to hand FNAF over to steel wool but he thinks he got lucky w/ them

- refuses to play both FNAF VR games because they genuinely scare him too much; didn't want to beta test them (funny)

- he very much knows the fandom prefers pure horror and the supernatural but cant resist leaning into scifi stuff

- doesn't like the names burntrap and glitchtrap and they were supposed to be temporary

SECURITY BREACH

- half blames covid splitting up steel wools workforce for the games lack of quality and delays

- says his "vision of the game" was misaligned with steel wool, that he had a "very specific story in mind" for security breach and it didnt pan out like he wanted

- he takes fault for it, saying he conveyed it in a bad way; "I was trying to tell steel wool to do specific things throughout the game, put specific items in specific places, have specific characters do certain things, meanwhile not TELLING them what the story plot was. Because in my head, I was thinking 'Okay, when people find this, they'll connect this to this to this & it will all be revealed, and I thought I could do that without telling steel wool the story plot. That didn't work out very well because they got all of these pieces, and they thought it was their job to connect them in a way that made sense. And so really what you ended up having were the same pieces telling completely different stories...I don't blame them for that, I blame myself for that, because what I should have done was gone 'hey, heres the story, the pieces are here, here's how theyre supposed to connect'."

- burntrap originally even supposed to move; just supposed to see something you saw in between machinery or in corners, that you werent supposed to know his purpose even though he used to have a very specific one (that the fandom doesnt know)

- he knows it didnt turn out like anyone wanted & thats why they made the RUIN dlc, he hopes it redeemed security breach

- he said hes learned from that mistake with security breach and things should be better in the future

- he cannot share any thoughts on the mimic

- he likes vanny a lot, shes one of his favorites and he thinks that shes underutilized and should get more spotlight in the future

THE BOOKS

- process is 'he has an idea, he proposes it to the writers, they flesh it out'

- he likes bunny call the most, and that it's not entirely made up; he took his family to a summer camp. 2 older kids 2 babies. one of the things you could sign up for was a 'panda call' . a very 'deceiving title', he says. early in the morning, a bunch of the camp counselors dressed as killer clowns would come into your cabin and scare the kids to wake them up early and drag them off to do their daily activities (?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????) and he knew this was the case, & before it happened he started to sort of feel bad that he signed up his two youngest kids for it so he crept outside in the dark and 'started listening for screams' early in the morning. 'somewhere in the dark in these trees theres clowns and theyre coming for my cabin'

- acknowledges the fazgoo is weird and bad.

- the 'creature on the cover of blackbird is my sleep paralysis demon' (quite literally)

- says his least favorite story is the guy getting pregnant with springtrap's baby and that he Doesnt Know What He Was Thinking, that he swears he 'wasnt trying to pick on matpat'

- he says theres potential for the books to be adapted into shorts goosebumps style, but hes afraid it might be 'too much' and oversaturate the franchise

THE MOVIE

- he says a big issue was that there was material thats difficult to translate to the big screen; the nuance of the antagonists being that the animatronics are possessed by the spirits of innocent children, and he wanted to preserve the innocence of the victims while also having the horror and the kills, and thats a big part of why several screenplays got scrapped; he was more picky/cautious about that than anything else

- says the victims are sort of like 'confused, scared animals backed into a corner, who believe that adults are out to get them' & thats part of why they kill people + the manipulation from william afton

- he likes the movie overall but thinks specific things could be improved and they aim to do that with the second movie, but doesn't want to dwell on those shortcomings too much

- hes perfectly happy with critics hating it but the fanbase loving it & that was his goal for it

- when the movie began showing in theatres he said: 'i told myself i wasnt gonna go online i wasnt gonna read any reviews i had already told everybody at blumhouse and i told my legal team DONT talk to me DONT call me DONT email me DONT send me charts DONT send me facts or figures i dont want hear ANYTHING', saw 1 negative review on accident then started reading all of them immediately before the 2nd showing even happened

- 'for a couple of hours there i was distraught, i thought it was a complete disaster' (based off the initial negative critic reviews, before learning how much the fans loved it)

SECOND MOVIE

- Not giving away many details, but following the same formula; 1st movie based on 1st game, 2nd movie based on 2nd game, etc

- Thinks people will like it, that the setup for the 1st movie was the hardest part but now that they have that launch pad to go off of and hes really fond of what they have planned

- Emma Tammi is also directing the second one

INTO THE PIT GAME

- was originally just supposed to be a short novelty game, but they made something really good and he encouraged them to keep going & its turned into a full-fledged game

- he says its going to be a very 'unique experience' and that everyone will like it a lot

- says working with megacat (studio for the game) has been 'weird but good', that theyll vanish for several months and return with a bunch of info

SPINOFFS, GENERAL FRANCHISE STUFF, FUTURE PLANS

- Would want to work on a game based off of Fetch and that he thinks it'd be really cool

- Says he feels like he's sort of lost touch with the fanbase as things have gotten bigger

- Wants to have a better structure for managing a twitter page, official news feed, etc., wants more management than just Himself because it'd better service the fanbase

- He says theres another game planned with steel wool (not the mimic game) way down the line that hasnt been announced yet

- Making more choose-your-adventure fnaf book stuff

- He's 'very careful' with collaborations because he wants to preserve the fact its fnaf and he doesnt want it to be distorted or tainted, & even if he really really likes a game he won't do a collab if the vibes are mismatched, but he's a little more open to things like that now (but we have FNAF X DBD now! yay)

THE BOX.

- (paraphrased) His process for a lot of the lore in games is that he'll come up with half of a mystery and then come up with an answer as things progress, that he feels something is there and he makes the path for that thing to be revealed

- 'but sometimes when things progress the roads that have been put in place arent the same roads that were there before'

- he had something planned for the box. the progression of the story did not allow for the reveal of whats in the box

- he never pursued whats in the box. and he will never know whats in the box.

[swiftcast-selene]

✨ pre-dawntrail wol questions! ✨

over on our little server i've been asking a WoL development question a day until dawntrail and it's been well-recieved so far, so after a month of doing it i figured i may as well put them on here~

use them to draft your own posts! send each other asks about them! answer them in the tags! do whatever you want with them, as long as you're having fun!

how is your wol about personal hygiene? are they on top of it? always perfumed and spotless, a little messy sometimes, or do they have to be reminded to groom?

is there a texture your wol absolutely can't stand, either food or feeling-wise? or is it not something they tend to worry about? do they go to great lengths to avoid it or do they just power through it?

what is your wol's evening routine? do they prepare for the next day? do they just wing it? do any weapon or gear upkeep? just pass out because that's tomorrow them's problem?

how does your wol's echo manifest itself? do they see visions as they happen? all at once? delayed? do they get any physical symptoms from it?

does your wol have any siblings? how do they get along with them? is it a good relationship or is it tense?

how does your wol feel about romance? are they a hopeless romantic, waiting for The One, or are they more casual? do they believe in soulmates?

how does your wol feel about their hair? is it important to them? just kind of in the way? who cuts it? do they take good care of it or are they not particularly fussed about it?

how good is your wol at taking care of their armor/clothes? do they mend them themself? pay to gave it fixed? just change it when it gets old?

what's in your wol's travel bag? any trinkets? any vital items they cant go without? do they travel light and figure stuff out on the fly, or do they bring way too much with them? (bonus points if you have images!)

how does your wol sleep? very light? very heavy? do they need a specific item to fall asleep? is it easy for them to fall asleep, or does it take them forever? where do they prefer sleeping?

where was your wol during the last calamity? how did it make them feel? did it change their life, and if yes, for better or for worse?

shadowbringers spoilers: how did they feel being so... up and personal with another calamity? did they feel responsible? scared? did they feel like they owed the first to stop it, or were they more detached from the situation?

for the canon casters: what does casting magic feel like to your wol? how does being "out of mana" feel?

for the physical fighters: how does it feel when they do those impossible moves? the twirls, the jumps? do they supplement with aether? dynamis? is it purely physical or is something else involved?

what would your wol be if they weren't the wol? what would they do as a job or career? would they be happier?

is your wol good at cooking? what's their specialty? what can they never get right no matter how hard they try? what flavour profile are they good at cooking? what do they eat on the road?

out of all the scions, which one is the one your wol gets along with the best? what about the one they get along with the least? why?

how good is your wol with money? do they save up? scrounge around? spend it with wild abandon?

what would you say is your wol's greatest flaw? what part of their personality causes them the most problems?

what is your wol's best quality? what's the thing that they do that really gets stuff done of makes people like them? hard mode: their own perception vs. a friend or partner's perception.

what does your wol do to unwind? any hobbies? reading? sewing? croquet? sitting in a dark room in complete silence?

how good are your wol's table manners, based on their own culture? how does it compare to ishgardian table manners? eorzean? doman? steppe?

what is your wol's inner monologue like? do they refer to themself as "i"? "we"? "you"? is it organized or all over the place? are they kind to themself, or do they chide themself constantly?

what's your wol's relationship with food? do they skip meals or do they eat at specific times religiously? is food important to them, or is it just a means to an end to keep their body going? does food mean something cultural or personal to them?

what is your wol's relationship with their family? are they estranged? still very close? tense?

what does your wol think about lying? is it unacceptable to ever lie, are white lies okay, are they a pathological liar? how do they feel about people who lie to them?

how does your wol feel about allag in general? the tech, the experimenting, the crystal tower? any thoughts on allagan ruins? are they impressed, scared, resentful, neutral?

what sense does your wol most rely on? hearing, touch, sight, smell, taste? maybe even aethersense or dynamis?

how does your wol feel about mind-altering substances? do they partake? do they dislike them? are they neutral? do they take them socially, or anytime, or not at all?

how does your wol feel about children? do they want them? like them from a distance? hate them? no strong feelings?

how does your wol work out? lifting? sports? walking? how often do they do it? is it for fun or to keep up their physique? do they enjoy it?

[blondgirls-world]

57 Reasons

TW: Meanspo

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

-Fading Obsession: Pro Ana Mia Website plus Forum (fadingobsessions.com)

[luci-is-a-bitch-x3x]

Obey me! Brothers with an Innocent Mc:

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! to this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. This is kinda like the demon behaviors but like different I think idk tbh. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

Caution: May contain dark themes or imply towards dark themes. May contain nsfw or it may imply towards nsfw themes.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Innocent Mc who jumps up and down when their excited. They only do it because they have so much energy and excitement! Living with demons however makes it not as innocent. Everyone of the brothers caught on to Mc's habit very quickly. They'll play it off as liking to see Mc happy and excited, but in reality they love the way Mc's body moves while they jump around excitedly. The jiggle their body makes when they land a jump. The way Mc's shirt rises a little when they jump into the air. The brothers are usually never focused on Mc's excitement, usually their eyes are trained on Mc's body. Making sure they get to watch every jiggle and get to see every inch of Mc's skin they can. Mc's none the wiser, thinking the brothers are just being nice, caring about Mc and their happiness.

Innocent Mc who shakes their body out of happiness when they eat something they like or eat after being hungry for to long. They cant help it! The foods just so good they have to move their body! The brothers never seem to mind, instead the Brothers always seem to be the ones giving Mc their favorite foods. "You just look so happy when you eat it Mc" its definitely not because they like the way Mc's ass shakes when they do their little happy dance. No that'd be wrong of them, and they are perfectly behaved demons, as far as Mc knows.

Innocent Mc who just loves swimming, the brothers must love swimming too with how often they take Mc swimming! Mc genuinely believes the brothers press against Mc when their in the water, so that Mc doesn't drown. The brother is just holding Mc up, keeping Mc safe is all! Mc who believes the brothers everytime one of them touches their body, naively believing the brother is fixing their swimming garments. The brothers are never actually fixing Mc's swim wear, really they just want to feel the humans bare skin, Mc being wet from their recent swim only adds to the brothers desires to touch the oblivious human.

Innocent Mc who knows that in the human world different places have many different customs, so the Brothers cant be lying when they tell Mc about odd customs the Devildom has. Mc has to do the odd customs, they are a guest on the Devildom after all! It starts with "customs" that the brothers might be able to pull off with enough brainstorming and gaslighting. They never had to brainstorm a plan or gaslight as Mc was none the wiser from the begging. The first few customs were things such as: Mc has to tell them where they are at all times, Mc most likely isn't even allowed out without a brother beside them. Mc has to tell the brothers who they talk to. The brothers get to control whos around Mc, its for Mc's safety. It's mostly because the Brothers don't want to share Mc, nobody else needs to be around Mc and taking up Mc's time. The first few "customs" are there for "Mc's saftey" but in reality it closes Mc in. The only thing Mc has, knows, and is around is the brothers and who the brothers allow Mc to be around. The customs just get weirder and weirder from then on, as soon as the brothers realized Mc was to naive to see what they were doing they took full advantage of it. "Oh Mc, its a custom for a guest to sit on the home owners lap" they'll say its because Mc stays in HoL for free and the brothers keep them safe! Its like the brothers payment. The brothers all work together to make Mc do some odd "customs" as well. Like they would be convincing Mc that on a certain day every week sometime in the weekend probs its a custom for everyone to strip down to their undergarments, for a "relaxation day" or some excuse like that. All the brothers participate, they just want to see Mc in their undergarments too much to not participate in the lie.

Each brother may have their own lies they convince Mc are customs. Belphie may tell Mc that in the Devildom it's a custom to sleep naked, yes even if you're taking a nap with someone Mc! Belphie loves being snuggled up to Mc when neither of them have clothes on, and Mc didn't even take that much convincing to belive his little lie! Asmo convinces Mc that bathing together is a custom in the Devildom. I can see all the brothers saying this but Asmo is def the worst about it. Asmo tells Mc bathing together and washing eachother is great bonding, and that lots of demons do it! Asmo may get a little feely when he washes Mc, he'll tell them that washing this way is how all demons wash themselves, he'll even get them to wash him similarly. Satan convinces Mc that the pet bed he has beside his bed or his favorite reading spot is normal, and that Mc has to sit there because its safer for them. Its a custom for some Devildom furniture to be made unsafe for human use. The pet bed is the only human safe furniature Satan could find that looked comfy! Lucifer convinces Mc that refering to him as things like: sir, master, or daddy, is normal because he's the oldest in the household. In the Devildom its like a form of respect, his brother don't do it because they aren't guests in the house Mc. He'll even add the whole family gets to respect him differently then others, he just loves hearing those words come out of Mc's mouth. Beel convinces Mc that its normal for someone to lick food off of someone else. In the Devildom things are different, demons are close like that, its not weird that Beel licked that whipped cream of you're chest Mc, demons sometimes purposely put food on each other to lick it off for bonding! Some excuse like that, allows Beel to constantly put some type of food on Mc's body so that he can lick it off right after. Levi somehow convinces Mc that its a custom for people to touch each other the way he touches them. Its a game Mc! Its like the Devildom's version of play fighting! ..just with a lot more groping and grinding, you're bodies absolutely must be touching in this game! As close as possible! The moment Levi's letting out weird sounds, is getting all flustered, and his body jolts and jitters, well thats when Mc wins of course! Mc always seems to win at this game, and Mc never seems to notice Levi's pants are always stained after playing. Mammon convinces Mc that its normal for their "first" man to do things that the others aren't allowed to do. This includes all kinds of different things but some of the main ones are that Mammons allowed to be with Mc anywhere, anytime, no matter what. Mc's changing? Mammons there convincing Mc its normal to watch. Mc's in the bathroom? Mammons in the bathroom too, he'll at least be nice enough to not watch during these times, but hes still in the bathroom, just facing towards the door while Mc does their business. Mc's sleeping? Mammon can sit at the end of Mc's bed watching them sleep until hes tired! There is no privacy when it comes to Mammon, hes Mc's first! Mc doesnt need privacy from him! Hes here to protect and experience all Mc's firsts with them! He cant give his brothers a chance to have a moment with Mc thats hes never had.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! This has been in my drafts forever so hopefully its good man. Let me know if I should try and do more parts or this or not. Anyways more content will be coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby!

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

[genericpuff]

How long do you plan making rekindled? I loved Lo at some point, But now I cant get enough of your version!! And I wanted to know how did you come up with the darker back stories for Rekindled?

I have a semi-detailed skeleton of the plot with basically every story beat planned out, but I can't definitively say how long it will be as I haven't actually scripted every single episode out yet.

Not to mention a lot of the time my scripts will change from their original versions, by the time I get to an episode I've planned ahead for I've either thought of new ways to do it or don't like how it's paced so I change it. Case in point, there was a specific scene I had planned for the next episode and then wound up not liking the pacing because it was too fast so I moved it to several episodes away and restructured everything on the fly, took a whole new text document and scrapping sketches to figure shit out LOL I actually do have up until Episode 70ish scripted out in my documents with like, actual notes and dialogue for each episode, but I already have sooo many of those crossed out now because of how much I've had to tweak and change as time has gone on. This is why I plan ahead well in advance though, so that if I do need to make those changes, I can make them long before the episodes are even due to be drawn (and believe me, they get changed during the sketching phases too LOL).

What I can confirm for certain is that the current 'arc' we're in right now is definitely the bulk of the story. And that's not to say there isn't any content afterwards, more like the pacing just gets completely turned on its head in the last 30-40% of it where shit gets N U T S and just can't go back to the same energy that it was in the beginning. Without spoiling, there's a certain 'turning point' in the plot and everything after it isn't quite as long as the stint of story we're in now. This is mostly because the arc we're currently in is still establishing a bunch of stuff like the Underworld Corp, Persephone's schooling, etc. and once that turning point hits, it's basically all character development and focusing on the consequences of everything setup in the first arc.

I guess if I had to illustrate it, the story progression in the end will look something like this?

It's basically just this slow and chill climb that, once it hits that sharp peak, doesn't ever return to normal levels LMAO So I guess enjoy this part of the story while you can because it's the chillest it'll ever be w(°ｏ°)w And boy, I am EXCITED for that peak, but we have a long way to go before we get there. As for how long, well, I'm hoping I'll be able to have Rekindled's story wrapped up in the next 2 years, tops. Just depends on how the update schedule goes, and assuming the plans I have put down for the plotting don't change in any major way. I don't have as much of the latter half of the story actually scripted out yet so for all I know it could wind up being way longer than anticipated, but right now I have a pretty good sense of how the story beats will play out in relation to each other.

So it's kind of a wait and see thing, at least until I have every episode scripted out, and even then I won't be 100% sure because things are always being tweaked and fixed and changed on the fly! I'm guessing it won't go much longer than 170 episodes, give or take, but that's a very very VERY rough estimate.

Regardless, Rekindled still has a lot more story to tell, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy the ride with me <3

As for the darker backstories, y'all don't even know yet. Like... I've got stuff planned. Stuff that even Banshriek (my BG assistant) doesn't know about. Stuff that I keep buried very deep in Rekindled's episode documents that won't see the light of day until they have to be ripped out of the deep dark trenches of the characters' own buried secrets, and by that point, the toothpaste will be out of the tube, there will be no going back. So, again... enjoy it while it lasts. Because I don't pull my punches. And maybe even you won't be able to look at me the same way again once the final blow has been dealt.

Sleep well.

:)

[tetzoro]

YOU CAME? YOU CALLED. ༉‧₊˚.

ft. exboyfriend kuroo !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : ex boyfriend kuroo comes to your rescue and you reminisce on why exactly you broke up in the first place.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : hurt/comfort. slight angst with happy ending ? — WC : 500.

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : fitting for my first blurb here methinks. cant go anywhere without my tetsu ;( !! made him hold my hand the whole time i was moving blogs. enjoy !!

“you came.”

just seeing kuroo’s face brought back every emotion you had hastily stuffed deep in your heart. the feelings you didn’t want to face since your break up. the pain of it was too much to bare so you had encased your heart in something impenetrable — something no one would ever have access to again.

but the mere sight of him demolished it all in an instant, an explosion that had you nearly clutching at your chest as the pain spread all throughout your body.

it wasn’t always like this — in fact, it used to be such a fairytale romance. one that always had your stomach filled with butterflies and your head so far up the sky you could grasp any star your little heart wanted. his love made you feel like you were on top of the world.

but when you fell and he wasn’t there to catch you anymore — it shattered every bit inside of you. no longer could you call him to tell him about your day. the good, the bad, all the little streams of thoughts you had. the last few weeks had been hell.

images of heavenly love flood through your mind, seeping down into your veins and carrying it’s way to your heart. the unrelenting head never stood a chance against the ever forgiving heart — a futile battle when kuroo tetsuro was involved.

warm summer nights and cozy winter mornings come to mind when you think of your happier moments together. kuroo was always a caring partner, ever observant of even the tiniest details. the kind that found joy in fixing the strap of your favorite pair of heels when they snapped, the kind to pick up your favorite take out on his way back from work — no matter how late it was.

he always looked after you, taking care of you in ways no other person has, or ever will, amount to. the memories from your break up were too hard to dissect, knowing that if you looked too closely, you’d see the error of your ways.

how both of you were completely stupid, letting an argument over the fact the two of you haven’t seen each other in awhile take precedence over your very relationship.

tensions had been high and like an overly stretched rubber band — it snapped. you snapped. and in turn, so did he. mismatched words spilled from your mouth that in no way lined up with what you felt in your heart. but the hurt had taken over, casting a dark plague over everything that surrounded you.

honestly, you’d do anything to take it all back. to break down in front of him and tell him how much you missed him. it truly had not been your intention when you summoned him over, but the thought was creeping up your spine, desperate hope blooming in its wake.

the howling wind brought you back to the present. there was a beat of silence as he tried to catch his breath. his hair was matted to his forehead as he hunched over. it was clear he got here in quite the hurry. he slowly straightened up, squaring back his shoulders as that familiar smirk slinked along his features, his amber eyes warming you up with just a single look.

“you called.”

[rukkiya]

say my name

༻(mammon x reader)༺

‧꒰ა what kind of joke was this? why were you looking at him that way? why couldn’t you remember his name? ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

There wasn’t a second Mammon wasn't seen without you. He was practically glued to your hip, you didn’t mind it one bit though.

Throughout your stay, Mammon’s attitude towards you had switched over time. You two grew closer than you thought you would. You’ve never been so vulnerable or so trusting with someone until you met him.

Before he would whine and groan about having to be your “babysitter” but he’s come to terms with it himself, he wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be the one to protect you during your stay.

Of course, you spent time with the other brothers too. You enjoyed being with them all together especially but they always complain about how Mammon steals you all for himself and you only ever spend time with him. He can’t help it; he's the embodiment of greed after all.

Mammon just shrugs at the accusations, flashing his million dollar smile every time he drags you away.

Today was like any other. Mammon was waiting for you outside of your now empty class to walk home, though you two weren't the last one there.

A witch Mammon had met a while back before you had arrived has been keeping an eye or you two, specifically you since you arrived. She had been livid ever since you’ve come down here. A whole year has passed and he still can’t seem to get enough of you, she was sick of it.

All his attention was solely on you, she couldn’t stand it one bit. He looks at you the way she looks at him.

He never made any moves other than just spending time with her but he was everything she ever wanted. She tried to win him over but you came into the picture and he can’t seem to look anywhere else but you.

She wants you out of the picture.

“Oi, hurry ya tiny legs up human, the great Mammon has things to do, places to be.” Mammon slides open your empty classroom door, waiting for you to step out into the hallway first.

“I'm going, I'm going, no need to rush. I promise we'll get home and watch the movie in time ok?” You laugh at him, seeing him with his hand on his hip, foot tapping impatiently. So dramatic.

“Ya know you’re lucky I’m here otherwise your little human self would be lost, but you have me to keep ya in check.” Mammon feels the corner of his lips turn upwards as your laughter gets louder at his remark.

Though his smile falls flat instantly when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand, making him shoot up from the doorframe standing tall turning to look for the source of where he feels it coming from.

Bloodlust.

He feels pure bloodlust.

He feels someone watching you both but he can’t pinpoint where. This only makes him more nervous. He isn't one to be scared too easily by others but the feeling in his chest told him to get you and leave as soon as possible.

“Mon? Hey are you alright?” you ask, fixing your bag on your shoulder, taking a step closer to him. You lift your hand to poke his cheek but he takes hold of your hand before you even make contact with his skin.

“Ya done? Come on, let's go.” he quickly says, grabbing your hand, dragging you with him before you can even reply.

“Is everything alright? Are you ok? You seem a bit off.” You ask, worried by his sudden change in demeanor, from where you walk a couple feet behind him you can see the uncomfortable clench of his jaw. He seems bothered.

He doesn't reply, he can't. He doesn't want whoever was watching the two of you to sense his worry, he cant put you in danger. If they want to do something they'd have to go to him and him alone.

You don't ask anymore questions, sensing he was uneasy made you feel uneasy. He never is like this around you, let alone unresponsive.

Once you both make it outside the school by the entrance he slows down, looking behind him to see if he can spot the person who was there. The feeling he felt was much less intense but he still felt it nonetheless less.

“Mammo-“

“Don’t worry ya pretty head about it, everything's all good ok? I just wanted to get out of there. Stop ya silly question game. Ya don’t need to worry so much alright? Come on, let’s go home now.” He assures, flashing you a smile hoping you buy it. Giving your hand a small squeeze, he’s been holding onto it since he felt the intense feeling, he can’t seem to let you go just yet, not until he can’t feel it anymore.

He can’t tell you what he feels, the feeling of something bad about to happen any second. He doesn’t want to scare you.

“As long as you’re ok then alright. But if anything is bothering you, you know you can tell me right?” You nod, giving his hand a small squeeze back.

“The great Mammon doesn't have problems, nothing bothers me. Don't worry about me so much, you know you're the here human right? I’m the second strongest demon!” He huffs, turning away feeling his face heat up at your concern. Why’d you have to care for him so much? Be so attentive and kind, to make things worse you look so freaking cute everytime too! The poor demon can’t handle this!

He starts walking again, pulling you along with him, not letting go until you both arrive at the House of Lamentation.

“Y/n do you want to grab some food with Belphie and I? It won’t take long we just-“

“Oi, we have plans for later, find someone else to go with.” Mammon sighs, stepping in front of you and into Beel’s view.

“But they said they will next time we go out, you have them all the time.” Beel looks behind Mammon and at you, look of disappointment on his features.

“Mammon we still have a few hours until the movie airs on TV, we’ll be back before. How about I grab you your favorite ramen before so we can have some snacks for the movie hm?” You ask, only to feel mammon pull you to him a bit more.

“Ya promised.” He turns to you, small pout playing on his pretty lips.

“Yes I did, and I’ll be back. I promised Beel and Belphie too. I won’t be out long ok?” You laugh, lifting your arm giving his cheek a small squeeze hearing him let out a dramatic sigh.

“Ya can’t miss the movie ok?” He asks, bringing his free hand up holding his pinky out. “Promise me you’ll be back.” He asks, you only smile at him and lock your pinky around his.

“Promise.” You whisper, seeing his lips tug down.

“Please be careful out there.” He leans down, head resting on your shoulder. He feels uneasy again, he just got away from that weird source of energy he was feeling a while ago and now you were going out? Without him to keep an eye on you at that.

the horrible feeling of something bad happening creeps up on him.

“Is he throwing a tantrum?” Belphie speaks up from behind beel, annoyed look etched on his features as he glares at Mammon.

“Mammon you steal y/n from us all the time, let them spend time with us now. You’ve taken away our scheduled nap time the other day, let them spend time with us too.” He rolls his eyes, making Mammon click his tongue.

You feel the weight of Mammon’s head lift from your shoulder, the look in his eyes is different from just a few seconds ago.

“Oi listen you two, ya better keep an eye on them alright? Keep them close and bring them back safely.” He turns to them, look of worry in his eyes as he speaks with the most serious tone you’ve heard from him.

“We know, we will.” Beel nods his head, surprised by the second borns change in attitude

“Alright, understood. No need to give us the Lucifer lecture now.” Belphie moves toward you, looping his arm around your free hand pulling you towards the door with him.

“I ain’t messin’ around, I'm serious.” Mammon glares at the youngest, making Belphie roll his eyes again.

“I said ok. They’ll be safe with us. Now let's go.” He pulls you again, Beel makes his way to the door and opens it for you both to exit first.

“I’ll be back, we’ll both watch the movie and I’m yours for the rest of the night ok?” You assure him, you only feel him give your hand one last squeeze before Belphie practically rips you from Mammon's grip.

He can’t hold you back from spending time with the other brothers though he wishes you’d just stay with him, the uneasy feeling made him all the more protective, he can’t help it.

The evening with Beel and Belphie went well. You all ate at Beel’s favorite restaurant and caught up, everything was fine until Belphie shot up from your shoulder while he was taking a nap. His eyes were blown wide and he immediately started checking your surroundings, but nothing was out of the ordinary. The restaurant was somewhat empty, only a random woman sitting a few tables down facing your way and an old couple in the table across from you.

You had asked what it was and when he calmed down, seeing nothing was really wrong and he brushed it off as possibly being a nightmare. Though he knows full well why he got so on edge, his senses were heightened and he felt danger was near though looking around no danger was there.

He was still wary the rest of the time and couldn't find it in himself to sleep again so the remainder of Beel finishing up he kept his eyes open, looking around just in case.

You all ended up leaving shortly after but not before stopping to get some snacks you promised Mammon.

“I'll be out in a second, do you guys want anything?” you ask, reaching onto your bag and turning to look at Beel.

“Chips and chocolate please.” Beel smiles at you and you smile back, nodding your head.

“Alright i'll get you those two things Beel, Belphie how about you?” you turn to Belphie who was falling asleep while leaning on your shoulder, eyes fighting to stay open.

“No thanks, I just want to get some sleep.” He hums, nuzzling close to you.

“We’ll head home right now, Im quickly going to run in and grab a couple snacks for Mammon and Beel.” You give his arm a small squeeze and Beel steps around you , grabbing Belphie and leaning him on his shoulder.

“You don't want us to go in with you?” Beel calls out before you reach the sliding doors, feeling a strange sensation. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, he felt nervous for no reason.

“Belphie is sleepy, I don't want to make him walk anymore, but thank you, i'll be out right now.” You assure beel, sending him a smile and a nod of your head before turning and walking into the store.

You step into the empty convenience store, waving at the old lady who runs the joint who sees you come in with Mammon most of the time.

You make your way to the snack aisle and stop in front of the chips, picking out Beel’s and looking at the other options for Mammon, that is until you hear some ruckus come from the aisle next to you.

The sound of someone falling caught your attention, making you walk away from the aisle, Beel’s bag of chips still in your hands as you peek out the side to see what happened next to you.

In the middle of the aisle you see a young woman who doesn’t seem like a demon , she was probably a witch. She was on the floor, different things from the shelf surrounding her as she struggled to get back up. She looks somewhat familiar. Like the woman who was eating at the same restaurant you were previously at.

“Are you alright? Do you need a hand ma’am?” You ask, taking a step into the aisle, your legs walking up to her immediately to check if she was ok.

“Ah dear, thank you. I’m so clumsy I can’t seem to catch myself before I trip sometimes.” She smiles up at you and you smile back, reaching your hand out to help her up.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same. I can’t seem to do anything without accidentally hurting myself in some stupid way.” You laugh as she stands on her feet.

Beel checks his phone, he looks around the dark street and clicks his phone off. He feels uneasy, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. It’s only been two minutes since you’ve walked in. He knows you’ll be out but he can’t spot you in there through the big glass windows from where he’s standing.

“Thank you for helping me up, you didn’t have to. Most demons here will walk away or don’t even bother.” She gives a small pout, leaning down to pick up some of the things she dropped.

“Oh no need to thank me it’s the least I can do, you’re not hurt are you?” You ask, leaning down helping her clean up around her.

“Nono, I’m not but I think my fall might’ve cracked my homemade cookies I just made.” She frowns, looking in her hand bag, taking out a small package of beautifully wrapped cookies that were somewhat broken.

“Oh no! Sorry you broke them, but hey at least you can still eat them!” You try to cheer her up, making her laugh.

“You’re right, I have many bags in here they’re still edible. Would you like one, sorry it’s broken though.” She hands you one, her frown long gone as she was smiling brightly at you, holding the cookies up to your face.

“Uhm it’s ok I-“

“It’s the least I can do! you’ve so kindly helped me up, I just baked them, they're good!” She assures, taking hold of your hand and gently putting the small bag of cookies onto your palm.

“Ah, are you sure?” You ask, feeling bad for taking her cookie’s. But also unsure because if you’ve learned anything from the human world ist to not trust anything anyone gives you, especially if it’s upon first meeting.

“Please, take them, they'll only go to waste, I’ll probably end up giving the rest to my family or eating them for myself now.” She waves you off.

“Foolish human, so trusting and gullible.” The witch thinks as she smiles at you when you nod your head, agreeing to take the cookies.

“Try one, tell me how they taste.” She urges, making you still for a second. You weren’t sure if you should, she was being a little bit too persistent.

“Come on, they won’t bite. They’re chocolate chip cookies. I’m practicing my baking skills. You see, I want to be a baker and open my own shop. I need people to tell me how my treats are or else they won’t sell right.” She asks, somehow making you agree with her because yeah, it makes sense. Right?

“Alright! I’ll be your first customer.” You nod your head and see her smile grow wider.

“You’ll regret ever coming down here, fool, he’ll be mine. He’ll be mine again for sure I know it.” The witch can’t help her smile from widening, she knew humans were trusting but gosh, you were too trusting, you were dumb, this will be your demise.

You reach into the bag and pause, seeing her look so happy made you feel somewhat assured. She just wanted someone to try them, no harm. Right?

The feeling Beel had was getting worse. It was so bad Belphie started to feel it too.

“Beel, where’s y/n? Why is she taking so long? I don’t like this feeling.” Beel feels a tug on his arm and sees Belphie wide awake, eyes blown wide just like earlier.

You reach into the bag, fingertips brushing against the cookie as you grab one of the small pieces that had broken off.

You bring it out of the bag and the aroma of chocolate fills your senses, you're such a sucker for chocolate it’s not even funny.

You bring the piece to your lips and take a bite of the small piece in your hold. The cookie was crispy and soft, the chocolate was sweet and it balanced out just perfectly.

“Mmmn, this is really good.” You smile at her, giving her a thumbs up of approval making her chuckle.

“I’m glad you like them! Please eat the rest too, that'll make me so happy!” She clasps her hands together, happinesses filling her being. Her dark wretched soul was happy, this will surely work. She will have mammon back to herself one again.

You nod your head, wrapping the cookies and placing them into your bag before you hear the store doors open with the small bells over the doors chiming.

“Y/n?!” You hear Belphie call you.

“Y/n where are you at-“

“What happened?? Why were you taking so long?” Beel asks, his long legs walking down the aisle when he spots your head from the one over.

“Ah sorry, I was just helping this woman she had fallen and….” You explain, turning around to the woman who gave you the cookie only to see zero trace of her ever being here.

Belphie scopes the rest of the store, looking down each aisle to find the source of dark energy.

Beel takes another step up to you and leans down a bit.

“What woman?” He asks.

“I think she left when you both came in then, she just fell, I helped her up and you both came in that’s all.” You recall.

He eyes you for a second before turning and looking back at Belphie.

“Did you see anyone when we came inside?” Beel asks, Belphie only nods his head no.

“Who were you talking to? Did you get what you came for?” Belphie steps up to you now, his eyes were wider than his usual sleepy hooded eyes. He was wide awake.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to take so long, I just helped a lady, and yes. I got the snacks. Let me just go pay real quick!” You assure them before walking past the two to pay for what you got.

“Sorry I kept you two waiting, let’s go home.” You turn to them, sending them your signature closed eye smile and they feel somewhat relieved, you didn’t seem hurt or anything. You were still your normal self.

“By the way, are you guys alright? You seemed pretty anxious when you came in to get me back there.” You ask, looking at Beel then Belphie who only shudder at the feeling they felt earlier.

They felt strong dark energy radiating from inside the store, it got really bad for a few seconds until they couldn't stand it anymore, that's when they walked in. But everything seemed fine in there, you were ok. That’s all that mattered to them.

“We just got worried, you took a bit longer than we expected.” Belphie sighs, walking slower to match your pace.

“Now I’m extra sleepy thank you.” He yawns, making you laugh.

“We’re here, you can get rest, sorry about that, I didn’t mean to worry you both.” You apologize again to the twins, they seemed very shaken up back there. You’ve never seen them both so worried, so on edge.

Beel unlocks the door, mentioning for Belphie’s and you to walk in first.

“Ah before I go to bed, here Beel. You must be hungry now, I made you wait too long.” You hand him the bag of chips you grabbed earlier and see Beel’s eyes brighten up.

“Thank you y/n I forgot you got me these I’m hungry no-“

“Oi!” A loud voice cuts through, stomping from the staircase is heard making the three of you turn around.

“You both kept em’ out for too long, the movie is about to start right now!” Beel and Belphie hear Mammon already nag, making them both sigh.

You stare at the two in confusion.

“Movie starts in five human, get ya little legs movin up to my room.” Mammon makes it to the bottom of the steps, glaring at the two youngest.

“Oi human.” Mammon calls again, reaching down to grab your hand to get your attention.

You haven’t even looked at him.

You feel a hand come in contact with yours and you immediately pull away, looking at the strange man who tried to grab you in confusion.

“Oi, what’s wrong? Are ya hurt?” Mammon asks, slight ping in his chest when you pull away.

Belphie and Beel look at you confused, why did you move away from him?

“No, uhm I’m not….” You say, confused at the white haired man’s actions.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You ask, brows furrowing together the longer you stare at him.

Mammon's smile drops in seconds, his hands still, he can’t find it in himself to blink because what?

“What? Are ya jokin with me human? If ya are, this ain't funny.” He asks, feeling his stomach sink.

You were giving him a strange look.

The same one you wore when you first arrived down here.

Beel looks at Mammon, then at you, then at Belphie who looks just as confused as Mammon.

“Joking? Ah, nono uhh sorry I don't really remember you. Have we met before?” you ask, trying to think back to where you could have possibly met the strange white haired man with beautiful golden eyes with blue undertones.

Nothing, no recollection of ever meeting him comes up. He's handsome, you're more than sure if you had met him before you'd remember his face.

“Oi what are ya guys doing? Belphie, is this your idea of a funny prank huh?” Mammon grits, walking away from you and up to the youngest, grabbing him by his collar.

“Mammon calm down it isn't one of Belphie’s pranks.'' Beel steps closer to them, not wanting to see them fight.

Belphie stills in Mammon’s hold. Looking up at his older brother with wide eyes because he himself doesn't know what's going on.

“This isn't something I'd tell them to do, Mammon, I swear.'' Belphie whispers, eyes wide because he is not getting why you're acting strange all of a sudden either.

Mammon wants to laugh, you are all playing along so well, especially you. But he wants this to stop. It isn't funny anymore.

“Come on guys, please.” Mammon lets out a breath, letting go of Belphie and looking back at you.

You only look at Beel and Belphie just as confused as them.

“I'm sorry, Beel Belphie, what's going on? I don't get it? Why does he think this is a prank?” You ask, the twins and the strange man look even more worried now, the white haired man's face went blank once again.

“Y/n, what's wrong? Are ya feeling sick? Did somethin’ happen?” Mammon calls you by your name, making you all the more confused now.

“How does he know my name?” You think.

He takes a step closer, pleading look in his eyes as he stops in front of you.

“Y/n what's wrong? Why're you acting strange?” Belphie cuts in, he was getting more uneasy the more you kept this up.

“I'm fine, why do you guys keep asking me that?” You sigh, they were the ones acting strange. How did Beel and Belphie know this strange man? Why was he in the house?

Mammon slowly lifts his hand near you, looking you in the eyes, stooping before his hand makes contact with your forehead. “Can I make sure ya dont have a fever?” He asks, cautions of his movements now. When you moved away earlier it made his heart sink. He doesn't want to see that look on your face again. He feels something horrible.

He knows you wouldn’t pull a stunt like this on him. You would never dream of it. You would always scold the brothers everytime they would do something similar or bring him down, this isn't like you at all.

You nod your head yes, feeling him gently brush your hair away, his warm palm laying on your forehead.

“Y/n, I want you to do somethin’ for me, please?” Mammon feels his voice waver a bit, your temperature was more than normal, you didn't feel too hot or anything that indicates you were sick. But he felt something was more worse than it looked, he shouldn't have let you leave.

“Can you say my name?” Mammon’s voice comes out so soft, the concern etched on his features makes you feel so bad.

The white haired man seems so worried about you, but you can't understand why.

“I-Im sorry, I don’t know you. I don't know your name.” Your voice comes out just as low as his.

A sudden sharp pain in your chest crawls its way up when you see the man in front of you stare at you with glossy eyes, look of defeat when he brings his other hand up to his hair frantically. It felt as if the pain he was feeling was rubbing off on you. “I'm sorry.” You repeat, seeing his head drop.

Everything else seems in place, the house, the brothers. Today all you can recall was walking home from school with the twins, then grabbing something to eat. The only thing out of the ordinary was the white haired man who stood in front of you. His reaction made your heart ache, he seemed to be in so much pain. It makes you want to comfort him, you feel so bad, so bad for not remembering the one who fell in love with you, the one who you’ve been in love with since you’ve first met.

_________________

authors note: hello loves!! ⸜(˙꒳​˙ ) bagel is back with another obey me fic wooooo!!◝(⁰▿⁰)◜this one is dedicated to my sweetest boi mammon, I swear to freaking gosh I’ve been thinking about him so much lately I needed to write for him LOLOL, BUT!! this fic was so much fun to write (yes it’s an angst-open ending AGSISN SORRYSHSHSH two in a row back to back I know I’m a monster) but I’m so excited to share this one with y’all!! this is for my obey me enjoyers mwah mwah I do hope you all enjoy!! reminder to stay safe, drink plenty of water and take care!!^~^<3 (also!! this isn’t proof read so I do apologize for any errors or mistakes!)

[blushedfemmes]

Currently 5 shots and a tallboy deep. Just enough to be adoring (and maybe a little pathetic), sadly not enough to want to be rough and impulsive. Still, i hope you'll enjoy my little fantasy.

You invite me over, maybe to watch a movie or have a meal or to help you fix something. Really the reason doesn't matter because it was a front anyways. You invited me over to get me drunk, not that you'd ever tell me that.

I got so excited at the invitation to see you that i couldn't help but doll myself up. I polished my boots and ironed out my favorite shirt, thinking of you the whole time. I sprayed my cologne on and prayed that by the end of the night I'd know what your hands felt like on my skin, and that I'd never forget.

I show up and you greet me with a syrupy sweet smile, like you have no plans outside of just spending time with me. Its finally cold outside so you offer me a drink to warm me back up. Cocoa or maybe apple cider. Whatever it is, its already spiked and i cant help but say yes. The mug warms my hands and the thought that you made it just for me warms everything else. We sit and drink and talk about our days, our jobs, or whatever else finds its way out of our mouths. You give me refills without me having to ask, heavier pours with each new drink. You keep touching me when i talk. They're short and soft but i promise i notice every single one of them. Everytime you do it i feel a little warmer.

By the time the drinks hit, im too entranced by you to realize its the alcohol warming my skin now and not the way you're touching me. You know im drunk from the smile that seems plastered to my face and the compliments i cant stop myself from giving you. Your nails, your hair, your outfit, your nails. I only notice you've been inching closer to me when you decide to climb on top of me.

Im not quite sure whats going on anymore so you reassure me, tell me everythings okay and that its just comfier for you to sit on my lap. I cant complain, ive always liked looking up at pretty girls anyway. The way the light shines over you is mesmerizing and i tell you "you look like an angel". The "thank you, darling" you whisper right in my ear does nothing but pull the blood from my brain.

I tell you that you make me feel dizzy, make my head spin. You tell me its the alcohol you been giving me for the past hour. You push up my glasses and kiss me before i have a chance to respond, all i can do is melt into you. I cant think about anything and all i can feel is your nails dragging up my arms onto my shoulders. You say you can tell Ive been working out. I slur out a "juss for you" and my entire world narrows down to only you.

Drunk as i may be, i still know what i want to do and of course i have the wherewithal ask (beg). I tell you I just want to feel your body under my hands, want to know how your skin tastes, want to make you feel as adored are you are. Its far less eloquent coming out of my drunk mouth but you agree and you tell me to "be a good boy use your mouth for the only thing its good for".

I spend the next few hours completely unaware of the world around me, the only thing that matters to me anymore is you. I kiss, lick, bite, and mark any part of you that finds it way to my mouth. The taste of your skin is cemented in my brain and theres nothing i could do to remove it if i even wanted to. The only thing keeping me upright is your soft moans and your nails tracing over my skin.

By the end of the night we're sprawled out on the couch and im falling asleep still latched onto your tits. The last thing i feel before passing out is your nails on my scalp and the way your heartbeat reverberates my head.

I wake up to you moving dishes from the coffee table while you're wearing my shirt. You tell me it looks better on you anyway and i couldn't agree more.

(Ive never written anything like this before so my apologies if its no good)

-🫀

hi are you kidding this is fucking incredible i’m 🥵😵‍💫💗💞 the fact that you wrote this after five (5) shots *and* a tallboy is extremely impressive i wouldn’t be able to write a grocery list lmaoo

so um anyways…… thinking about inviting you over to test that high tolerance of yours 🙈

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 19.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 7.8K

Warnings: oh hey, everybody likes smut, right? Good. Phone sex and swear words for grown-ups. Texting without proper spelling or punctuation.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Part 1, ….. Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Links: Masterlist

It was the first morning in a long while that you woke up alone.

There had never been any definite decision made on which side of the bed was yours and which side was his; but Baekhyun’s side of the bed was cold.

It only took you a second to recover from the disappointment that surged through you. You’d reached a hand out to touch his skin and all that brushed over your fingertips was the flat lifeless bedspread that covered your bed.

After the disappointment came a quick judgment on your own silliness.

You’d just been with him yesterday. You ought to have had your fill of him by now, with as much of him as you’d had lately.

With the slip of your hand over the expanse beside you on this bed, your fingertips brushed higher over the soft plushness of the pillow; his pillow. He hadn’t purchased it himself, nor had he played any part in its selection yet if there was anything in this bed that belonged to that man more than you, it was this pillow.

You turned toward it, scooting yourself over the bed and feeling like an addict desperate for a fix, you turned your face into that pillow and you inhaled a deep breath through your nose and through your parted lips, desperation at its lowest point — a day after the party junkie licking every last speck of white dust left on the glass coffee table — catching the slightest, and I really do mean slightest hints of the smell of his shampoo. You inhaled again, deeper and slower this time and all hints of that fragrance vanished as if you had only imagined smelling it in the first place.

What a silly human being you were.

You rolled again, this time away from his vanishing scent, you reached for your plugged in cell phone and your hands moved of their own volition easily finding the one and only contact that sat at the very top of your most recent message history, opening his chat window and you typed out a quick message to your Assistant Byun.

‘I woke up alone and hated it.’

Your message to Baekhyun sat unread for exactly ten seconds before the status changed and your stomach fluttered to hear the tiny hopeful ticking sounds that accompanied those three rolling dots as he typed his response.

‘aww… :(‘

‘u miss me?’

‘already?’

‘i was just there last night’

‘you cant posibly miss me alredy’

‘big baby’

His responses came in rapid succession. Baekhyun texted like he talked. Rapid fire messages one after another; sometimes stream of consciousness thoughts of his with typos and most times, a complete and probably intentional disregard for spelling and punctuation. He was your favorite.

‘I even smelled your pillow :(‘ You tried out the emoji he had used, even going so far out of your comfort zone as to remove the period at the end of your sentence. Your next attempt at casual chatting with your boyfriend had you reverting to your old ways. You just couldn't do it — the shortened words and silly faces. It made you feel like an imposter.

‘I miss you. Yes, yes, I know. Already. I feel silly enough having smelled your pillow.’

‘so…’

‘did it smell like me?’

‘Not really.’

‘hehehe’

‘u miss me XD lemme see’

’Wait… what do you want to see, Baekhyun?’ It felt like such an abstract concept that you weren't quite sure what he was asking of you.

‘u’

‘u missing me’

So you leaned into it — your own little silly pity-party. You lifted your phone up, opening your camera to snap a quick selfie. Before you had a chance to scrutinize yourself too much for the obviously barely awake face that was still puffy from sleep, you sent it to him, knowing he would see your bare face and pouting expression.

You hoped he wouldn't immediately know the truth behind that dark look in your eyes that told of things like interrupted dreams of his lips and his touches; dreams that retold memories of the love-making from the night before. Memories that sent goosebumps over your skin and flooded your veins with heat and desire.

There was a noticeable silence after you sent the picture. It went on for longer than you thought was necessary. The longer the silence dragged on the more this feeling inside of your body crested and surged. It was a frustrated sort of feeling; kind of like being on the verge of a sneeze that just never came.

It wasn’t as if it was a racy picture or anything. This was just you missing him. He had asked for it and everything.

After several moments you heard a sound come from within your chat window and his dots were moving.

‘how do you do that to me?’

‘do you want me to come back?’

‘hmm?’

‘i’ll just cancel everything i have today and just come back to you’

His messages had you reeling. A hundred emotions and memories flooded you at once. The shocking way he always gave in to you. The particularly recent things he had done simply because he could not and would not say no to you. He babied you and gave into your every whim. It felt unsustainable.

‘do u need me? i’ll come’

Surely this man couldn’t keep giving into you this easily. With the memories came the tinge of guilt and slight shame you felt when certain things came back to you; like the sex in your office yesterday, but at a deeper level even something as life altering as him asking you to marry him that night. It had all started with some tiny words from you and just like that, as if the man’s head had only ever been filled with you — Baekhyun had given in so damned easily.

You couldn't be so selfish with his love. You surely couldn't take and take from him without giving back to him tenfold. Your heart wouldn’t allow it.

‘baby?’

He was busy today. He had told you about it already. He had some appointments and some things to take care of. Today was the day for him to get it all done. It was the first weekday he’d had off in such a long time; everything that he had been putting off was backed up and scheduled for today. It was important to him and it should also be important to you that the man was free to do whatever he wanted to do with his free time.

‘No, I have things to do today too. I’m just being a brat. I think waking up with you for so many days in a row has spoiled me.’

It was true. You did have things you had been neglecting. You had laundry to finish and your apartment needed cleaning. There were also some personal hygiene things you needed to take care of like shaving your legs and other similar things to get ready for the sexy dress you’d be wearing tonight. It wasn’t as if you didn’t also have things that you really ought to be doing other than guilting your sweet boyfriend into coming back into your bed just because you woke up from that dream kind of needy and desperate for the warmth of his lips.

‘just say you want me there’

’fuck it all’

‘i will come’

‘Baekhyun. Don't you dare. Didn’t you say you had important things to do today? You don't have to come over every time I complain about something. Sometimes I just need to say it outloud so I can get over it. Yes, I miss you. Yes, I love you. Yes, I just woke up from a dream about you but I’m an adult and I will take care of it. I will see you tonight at the wrap party.’

Your fingers typed out a quick paragraph and the moment you hit send you knew you had said too much. Both literally with how very long that entire message looked with the giant block of letters that practically filled up your phone screen and figuratively with all that you had revealed. You knew your suspicions were right with the incredibly long silence that took over the conversation the moment the message was sent.

He must have still been reading it. But then you saw no signs of life after the message status had changed to read.

Your eyes slid over your words once more and you felt a heat and warmth flood over the back of your neck as you read one particular bit of your embarrassing confession — the dream about him. You’d told him that you’d woken up missing him after the dream. There was only one kind of dream that could have possibly had this sort of an effect.

But where was his response? Was his long silence due to you rebuking him?

You read through the message again.

Baekhyun, don’t you dare.

Had your quick reaction been too much? Did you sound too much like an overbearing manager to him?

You don't have to come over every time I complain about something.

Nagging and admonishing. You could hear it yourself the more times you replayed the words in your own head.

Could he possibly be …upset by your words?

After a full ten minutes of staring at your screen, you had to put the phone down. The long silence had gone on for long enough to make your mood go from worried to genuinely anxious.

Another ten minutes had passed as you puttered around your bedroom trying to distract yourself with gathering occasional bits of laundry that needed attention before you heard your phone buzz.

You hadn’t been the type of woman to leap across your bedroom, plopping down hastily on your bed to reach for your buzzing telephone before. Baekhyun had changed so much about who you thought you were.

Sitting inside your text window, silent and unassuming was a voice note complete with the graphic ups and downs that represented the words he had recorded.

You pressed play, turning up the volume on your speaker so you could hear his voice.

Baekhyun was whispering.

“I nearly walked out the door. I almost left and came to you. They called my name the moment I stood up and I made eye contact — I had to go in — but baby…baby,” he dropped his whispers down even lower with the second ‘baby,’ you heard the smallest whimper turning into a whine.

This was a complaint, it seemed.

“Babyyy~” he went on again, “did you really just tell me you had a sex dream about me and you’re going to take care of it alone? You’re making me fucking crazy. How am I supposed to go on? I can’t stop thinking about it, but I really need to stop thinking about it.” His voice was speeding up. “Shit. I hear someone calling my name.” Between the whispers and the rapid speed with which he pushed the words out of his chest you had trouble actually making out what he was saying.

You could make out bits of it like, “Isweartofuckinggod,’ followed by unintelligible mumbles, then “—popaboner—teethcleaned—fuckingarrested,”

The last bit was said in a single dramatically whispered breath.

His message had you giggling and all at once whatever silly doubts you’d been feeling about your boyfriend had vanished. When the message finished playing you instantly wanted to play it again, only when your phone returned to his message window, you saw another much shorter voice message waiting for you. This one was extremely brief. You were certain he was by now, being ushered into some dental exam chair to deal with whatever internal battle he was fighting all on his own.

The second message from him sat there at only an innocuous and unassuming 7 seconds in length but it beckoned to you so intensely. You pressed play.

“Please,” he began with that same whiney begging tone you heard occasionally from him. It was a familiar sound to you at this stage in your relationship. He used it when he wanted something from you and he wanted to be particularly convincing. You couldn’t think of a single time it hadn’t worked on you. Honestly it didn’t take much from Baekhyun for you to instantly want to give him whatever he wanted. He didn't have to go so hard on the begging; even if you did really enjoy the way it made you feel inside.

His begging though…It felt somehow more desperate this time. “Please-please-please—I would give you anything. My entire fucking soul. Please take care of it and let me — oh fuck — please let me hear you do it.”

This request from him had a slow moving effect on you. At first it didn’t seem like much, but you found yourself transfixed by it. You stared at the tiny voice note with your finger hovering over the play button and before you could help yourself you pressed the button again, holding the phone up closer to your ear so you could clearly make out every stuttered breath between each word he spoke. Between each of his desperate pleas you could make out the labored in and out of the air from his lungs. You could hear the stuttered throaty groans that preceded the next words and the sounds of his begging; the way he seemed to lose control of himself entirely with the curse word that slipped in.

You knew what he wanted.

This wasn’t something you had ever done before.

How would you even manage letting go of yourself enough while also somehow recording the sounds you might make for him.

First and foremost the logistics felt like a pain. Were you supposed to record a voice message just as he had done? Was there some way to record yourself and send it back to him after you listened to yourself? Could you even reach your release knowing you were recording yourself. What about the timing of it all? You weren’t exactly a professional performer. Most of the sounds you made lately had felt entirely outside of your own control; had been pulled straight from within your chest by this very man.

Was he busy? Maybe you just could just call him.

You knew you were overthinking it, but Baekhyun had been so sweet with his request, you had a strong desire to give him what he asked for.

You rolled around on your bed, carrying your phone along for the ride feeling just a little frustrated with yourself now.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t know how to pleasure yourself. Hell, you’d spent the last year desperately single and pathetically alone; too busy with work for a relationship; too burned by the last one to have much interest in any of the men who’d approached you. When you’d finally given up on ever being touched by some other human being Baekhyun steamrolled into your life completely redefining everything you thought you had known about intimacy and sex.

It was the attention he paid to you. It was the way his eyes always bore deep into yours as he held you; as he touched you; as he filled you. He gave you everything without you having to ask. He anticipated what you wanted; he paid attention to your cues and when you didn’t give him everything silently, he straight up asked you what you wanted; sometimes with his words, sometimes with his hand pulling your own hand down to show him; until you felt yourself giving up every single little secret desire you’d ever dreamed of and at last, as the waves of overwhelming pleasure washed over you, you’d be rewarded by his sweet, self-satisfied smile as if he’d unlocked some new secret of the universe; of you, his universe. It was the vulnerability you could see inside his eyes as well.

His vulnerable raw honesty was maybe the sexiest thing about him. He was your very own open book. And the stark contrast between what he showed you and the false bravado or professional persona that he gave to everyone else in his life made you feel as if you were the chosen one. His very special very privileged precious person; the only person with whom he shared his actual true self.

The dream that had started all of this had been just as all-consuming; just as pleasurable; just as vivid. You’d been so overwhelmed lately that this man had seeped deep into your unconscious mind and even at rest, it seemed, you could not escape the magnetism of Byun Baekhyun.

Your hands were roaming over your body. You’d dropped the phone somewhere in the bed sheets. You found that your skin felt hotter under your palms. The short sleep shorts you wore left your legs bare and the silky fabric of the camisole felt smooth under your palms; your skin was flushed below the thin fabric and a pass of your hands over your breasts made your nipples below the shirt pucker and respond to the light touches of your fingers.

The rolling around on your bed landed you somewhere around his pillow and you inhaled a deep breath from the center of it. You could smell him there right in the center of the pillow. It was very slight again, just the tiniest hint of the scent of his shampoo but the smell was undeniably him. He smelled so good. Everything about this man felt so good; but your sniffing over his pillow wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. If not here in person, you at least wanted his voice in your ear.

“I want you to listen”

“I want you to hear me”

You’d found the phone and keyed out some rapid words to him.

To hell with it all.

“but”

The status of messages quickly changed to read. There was no sign of him typing a response.

“I don’t want to just make a recording to send to you”

He was reading them as soon as you sent them.

“I want you here inside my head”

“You don’t have to speak I just want you to listen”

Your fingers had slipped down to the waistband of your shorts and you slipped your fingertips beneath the elastic of your panties as the scene played out in your head.

Him looking down at down at this phone trying to keep his face neutral for some professional who made notes about his next appointment. Smiling their friendly smile at his handsome face.

“I want to hear you breathing on the line”

“I want you to listen to me cum”

The inaudible curse under his breath as his cheeks darkened. You knew how weak he always was to you. You had first-hand knowledge of the effects you had on him. Although you’d never admit outloud how much you enjoyed playing these little games with him, you were certain he already knew. Certain social rules would also keep him from openly admitting how much he liked this as well and you fully expected a half hearted scolding from him later for teasing him like this while he was out in public.

After too long of a stretch of his silence your phone buzzed. One short buzz and then quickly followed by one more.

“5 min”

“gimme 5 min”

The first few passes of the soft pad of your index and ring fingers within your own substantial wetness had your breaths quickening. How very turned on you felt wasn’t really a surprise to you. You found yourself so attracted to him that some of your days were spent in a constantly needy state of arousal. It was a miracle you had managed to get anything else done at all. The gentle nudges against the most sensitive parts of you felt better — felt even better than anything you’d done alone before, simply because of your knowledge of what Baekhyun knew.

Baekhyun knew exactly what you were doing with those recent thoughts of him coursing through your veins; prickling your skin with goosebumps and heating your skin with desire and arousal and a steady buzzing against your bare thigh pulled your eyes open.

Baekhyun was calling.

You reached for the phone with your unoccupied hand and answered the call; pulling the phone up to your ear to listen for the moment the call connected; for when the sound in your ear brought him to you. You heard the change in audio. Sounds of the world outside of your bed. He was here now. He could hear you.

“Hi,” you let the low breathy single syllable slip off your tongue followed immediately by a quiet sharp inhale of breath. Try as you might, your breathing had already taken on a rather uneven rhythm.

“Are you the only one who can hear me?”

“Ohh…yeah-yeah. Hyung, I’m on my way out. Sorry you had to wait.” Baekhyun was talking into the phone so you could hear him, but not only for you to hear; although he did answer your question in a roundabout way. He was wearing headphones. You’ve seen him do it before; slip one wireless earphone into his ear to take a quick call.

“Good. Only you can hear me.”

The false words he spoke sounded lifted and forced, “Yeah, I’ve been good. Just trying to get out of here quickly. A-Are you close by?”

His veiled question had your eyelids closing and you felt the smile erupt on your face. You bit down on your lip and you hummed out an answer for him.

“Mhmm, I am close.” The words pushed through the airiness in your voice; giving in so easily to your arousal.

“I miss you,” you dropped your voice and whispered into the line. Out of a sense of secrecy, the words came out softer. Even the long drawn out exhale was a tiny gnat buzzing around the room.

“I want you, Baek.” There was a slow moan that built up in the back of your throat as you dipped your fingers lower, slipping one inside of yourself before you pulled up again. The journey up, your fingertips dragging slowly over the center of your clit made the sound erupt. It broke free. It made your words catch. It made them stutter. And punctuated by another soft moan, the words “I wish you were here fucking me right now” slipped up the back of your throat. “I wish this was your dick instead of my fingers.”

On the other side, you heard the tiniest whimper come from your boyfriend’s chest. The next sound was a hiss through gritted teeth and he quickly turned it into a small cough.

“Do you even realize how wet I am?”

Somewhere in the far distance a wordless voice reached your ears. Just enough for you to register the owner's gender; a young female with a polite inquiry.

You heard a hitch in his breath. You heard a helpless moan. It was extremely quick and short lived. “Mmmm,” Baekhyun oh so quietly hummed; against his will. He could not stop it. Air huffed out noisily through his nose. His soft and delicate answer pulled your lips into a satisfied grin.

That same voice as before spoke again; the tone of voice lifted up with a more insistent inquiry.

“Sorry, No. No, thank you.” Baekhyun cleared his throat noisily and you heard a few labored breaths blowing over his phone speaker, his “hooooo” trembled. He made a small blowing sound through his lips with the smallest guttural whine ghosted just under his breath and the voice asked something again.

“No-no I’m fine. I was…I was just leaving.”

Another question sounded out from much farther away now. “I’m leaving now.” His voice sounded closer to you for a second. Low and throaty and desperate around the edges. “No—no, I don’t need it.” The sound of the man shouting back over his shoulder.

A bell sounded out. A door clanked. Footsteps were moving and lungs were laboring. A curse was whispered just under his breath and repeated. The meaningless expression of wild frustration muttered through gritted teeth, ‘fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.’

“Are you still with me Baekhyun?” The high pitched whine that came out of your mouth after holding his name on your tongue for a moment that happened was out of your control. You could feel the heat just below your skin building into a fever. Your fingers felt too good with how very wet you were.

“Yes, Ma’am. I am here.” he whispered and you could hear how his lips remained parted and he breathed through his open mouth.

“I asked you a question, my love.”

A new sound echoed out. The sound of a car door opening and closing quickly. A low grunt from the back of his throat and the deep roar of a powerful sports car engine coming to life.

“My brain isn’t working right.” He was back to you. His voice was clear inside your ear and you could hear the strain to keep himself level sounding.

“What am I going to do? What the fuck — do I do? What do I do? Ohh — I’m in over my head.” He was whispering under his breath again. He was breathing quite hard all by his lonesome and the sounds of his lungs sunk hard and deep inside your eardrums, making every pass of your fingertips hit harder.

In the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of his car engine speeding up and slowing down, taking corners with a quickness and soon you heard a change as he seemed to stop driving entirely. It was nearly impossible to keep your focus through the sounds he made. Low whines, short puffs of air and complaining grunts.

Whatever motion you had been hearing from his side of the phone call quit with the next sounds from him. It was a deep throaty moan spoken in your boyfriend’s low register quickly followed by a sigh that blew air across the phone speaker and then a slower longer whiney moan. “F-Fuck, baby, what have you done to me?”

“What did I do to you, Baekhyun?” It was too much. It had already been too much for a while and you were trying to focus more on his voice than the building fire inside of your body, even going so far as to pull your hands away from yourself. You’d been too close to a climax and the burning fire spread into a burning curiosity more than a need for an immediate release. You could draw this out for a while longer. It was too much fun to end it now.

“You’ve made my dick so hard I had to pull over to jerk off. Again. Fucking — again. You make me lose my goddamn mind. You have any idea how many times I’ve had to do this because of you?”

This felt like another one of his confessions — let slip during a moment of weakness. Or given to you purposefully because he wanted you to have every single one of his secrets. This was the vulnerable man who destroyed your every inhibition; weak only to you — raw and honest and telling and unbelievably sexy as all hell.

“How many times, Baek?”

He was moaning again. It was rhythmic. The perfect pace for your fingers to slip down between your thighs again. You could not help but match the pace you heard coming from him. It felt like maybe, maybe if you closed your eyes and left your mind drift maybe it felt like he was here; here doing this to you. Making you desperate; bringing you closer.

“I didn’t — keep count. At least — hundreds. Every time — before I had to work around you and then,” there was a definite hitch in his voice, “of course, after. You had no idea. Sometimes I-In the car, right after — Sometimes other places. Once even in your office after you had left. But again and again. And over and over — more than a year.”

This was news to you. He was right; you had no idea. This man, so very affected by simply being near you that he had to deal with the arousal after every encounter. Pre-gaming sometimes, just because he knew he would have to be around you and keep his sanity intact

You recalled a moment, it felt like lifetimes ago before the kiss and the confession and the sex and the obsessive love. Back then, he’d saved you from the speeding motorbike. Back then, you’d felt it, the deep inhale he’d taken from your skin as he held you in your arms after the near death close call that nearly instantly changed into something else when he let that low moan escape. The undeniable heat you’d felt built up to intolerable levels between your bodies where they touched. You’d suspected as much at the time and now, well, you could probably publish your findings for publication. Fact checked, peer-reviewed, and proven.

“What is it about me?”

It was such a stark contrast to every other relationship you’d ever been in. Those men seemed to have a mild passing interest in you. At best, just in it for the sex; at worst, merely tolerant of you until someone else came along, not even bothering to end it with you before beginning something long lasting and meaningful with someone else… someone much better than you. Someone easier than you who worked less or had less pride than you or nagged less or who was easily satisfied in bed; didn’t expect an orgasm every single time and was perfectly happy just to fake it to satisfy a man’s ego.

But Baekhyun was in love, obsessed even, with every single detail about you. Baekhyun begged on his knees just for the chance to please you. Baekhyun was your rare diamond. You would never let him go.

“It’s You. It’s everything — everything about you. Your eyes. Your smile. Your lips.” His breaths had grown ragged. You could hear each stroke of his hand “Fuck — Your hot mouth — your wet t-tongue and ass and tits and your pretty fucking pussy and how good it feels to fuck you. Your scent — My God — your scent. I want to smell you for the rest of my life.” He was lost.

He was lost. You heard him cry out. It tipped you over the edge. The mess between your legs was so substantial you felt it dampen the bed sheets below you. Through the panties and the sleep shorts you hadn’t even bothered to remove.

You shared the oblivion with him and only him.

It felt like ages until you could speak again. After the heavy breathing settled on the other side of the line you heard sounds of movement. A quiet grunt that sounded like he might be reaching for something. You frowned down at your own state, realizing you’d have to get some more laundry done before you got ready for the wrap party tonight.

“Did you make a mess?” Your quiet question to him reflected your own state of affairs and Baekhyun responded with a tiny giggle.

“No, I keep a big box of jerk-off tissues in my car. I wasn’t always so prepared. I once had to hear, with my own ears, my car detailer mention having to break out the precision tools to get the ‘stubborn, dried-up gunk out of the all cracks in the steering wheel,’ and I knew I had to fix my life.”

You were already laughing.

“I don’t care who you are or what goddess you might be jerking-off to. Something like that changes a man.”

Your giggling blended like music with his and lasted long enough for a very recent thought to dawn on you.

“Wait a minute — In my office, Baek?” The abrupt realization interrupted your own laughter but had an opposite effect on him.

He laughed even harder.

“Baekhyun, when did you do that? Where did you do that?” Your voice had a half joking tone and half genuine concern. There wasn’t some secret stain you didn’t know about somewhere, was there?

“Well, I didn’t do it on your Official Employee Performance Review, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His joke was unexpected and it pulled out a genuine wheezing laugh from deep within your belly. It left you cackling and struggling to catch your breath and you could hear him laughing that deeply satisfied noisy laugh that he did when he knew his joke had landed particularly well.

After the giggles settled and you were up and about within your apartment; beginning to clean up both your filthy body and your bedsheets, the time on the clock began to nag at both of you.

You knew you had taken up to much of his time. You knew he had more errands to run before he had to return home to get ready for tonight. You didn’t know the specifics but it sounded like a tight schedule.

“I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.” The apology from your lips was genuine but his response began with a dismissive scoff.

“I’ll always have time for you.”

It was a cheesy sort of line and had it come from anyone else, it would’ve had your eyes rolling; but the sincerity you heard in his voice had you squealing internally instead. You really had fallen in deep.

He inhaled to speak again, “Baby, what do you have planned for today? Just lazing around until the party?”

You were probably only imagining the judgment you heard in that word he used.

“Excuse you, Assistant Byun, I have so much to do here at my house. Do you know what happens to a home when the owner is kidnapped by her sexy boyfriend and locked up in his ivory tower for a week? I have dishes in the sink, a dirty kitchen, a filthy bathroom, a ton of laundry to do. Plus I have to somehow shower and shave my legs and do make-up and hair and get all pretty for tonight. How will I finish it all?”

He gave the occasional hum of understanding as you ranted; letting you know that he was listening to you being dramatic even if each of his hums did come further and further apart and the sounds of his big engine speeding drowned out quite a bit of the important emphasis you had placed on certain syllables for dramatic effect.

The whole thing made you huff in annoyance and you crossed your arms over your chest with an eye roll as you grumpily repeated, “lazing around…” under your breath but not soft enough that he couldn’t hear it.

You lifted your volume for the next bit. You could not help how defensive you felt for being criticized by the most privileged man in the history of privileged men. Has he ever even washed one dish in his entire life?

“Some of us have to do our own chores, you know?”

“Okay, okay. I got it. I understand. You big baby. You are very adulty and very busy and very hard-working and very responsible and not being lazy today even though you stayed in bed until ten in the morning.”

“Nine.” You were quick to correct him.

“9:55 in the morning,” he pandered.

“Nine. O. Clock.” Your emphasis on each word as a separate entity gave you a temporary spike in your blood pressure and you had to stand back a bit from the phone; holding it just a little further away from your face as you briefly considered pinching him the next time you saw him.

“Oh, are we not counting the extra hour in bed and all that transpired therein? Because, my darling, it is 10:25 right now. I am 10 minutes late to my next appointment because somebody, let’s call her Schmanager Smoona, decided that 9:05 in the morning on a Thursday was a good time to send pornographic text messages to her boyfriend —”

“I’m hanging up.” You interjected the moment there was a pause. He’d inhaled a breath to keep talking and you managed to squeak in three quick words mid-speech. But it was useless. You could tell there was no end in sight. He was complaining about being late and yet he had time for the longest speech in history about how needy and inappropriate you chose to act instead of washing your dishes like a normal person.

“— while he was in the dentist chair with a strangers glove-fingers in his mouth, tasting like latex and artificial grape flavored fluoride—”

You let out the longest sigh.

“—what happens the next time I drink grape soda? What if Fanta Grape gives me boners now? Should I seek counseling for this? Should I seek a settlement?”

You had your fingertips pressed firmly over your forehead, rubbing hard as you tried your best to keep a hold of your sanity.

“Baekhyun, didn’t you say you were already late for —-”

“Oh my God, Noona. I already told you I have to go. I don’t have time for this right now. Why are you, like, so obsessed with me? Maybe I’ll call you later. If I feel like it. Kay, byeee.”

The line went dead.

He won.

The animated voice he did quickly interrupted whatever it was that you were saying. He spoke fast and used some sort of silly accent. By the time you had any of your mind in tact to realize what was going on you heard the click and he ended the call; cutting off whatever futile response you could possibly give him.

You stared down at your blank screen in mild disbelief and before the phone could time out a single buzz alerted you to a new text message from him.

‘i love u so much. ill see u tonight. don’t look too pretty i can’t promise ill behave if u do.’

If anything has ever felt like a challenge…

If only you had less housework to do, you could manage to sneak in a trip to the salon. If only you hadn’t just added a whole extra load of laundry to your list of chores, thanks to your mid-morning phone sex adventures.

You frowned down at the fitted sheet, knowing full well that you had to wash and dry the thing separately, else you risked the danger of having it grab up everything else you threw into the machine and catch it all deep within its corners; a tangled and twisted ball of filth and moisture that would not only ensure that nothing in the load got cleaned, it would also include the added feature of keeping everything, including itself, wet and wrinkled as well.

Halfway through your sorting efforts your doorbell rang. You hadn’t been expecting anyone and it had been a while since you’d ordered anything online, so the sound came as a bit of surprise. Perhaps someone was lost?

The view through your doorbell camera gave you more mystery than answers because standing at your door were three young women, all dressed in what seemed to be white long sleeve cotton shirts and black skirts. It looked like it might be some sort of uniform. You hoped they weren’t here to talk about your soul’s eternal damnation. That ship had sailed long ago.

When you didn’t answer right away the doorbell rang again and one of them was leaning forward and speaking into the microphone.

“Excuse me, Madam Byun? We have been sent by Young Master Byun for the cleaning.”

One of them whispered to the one who was speaking.

“My apologies, Miss Madam Byun. Cleaning the whole house,” she said after conferring with her co-worker.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend was unreal. You felt mildly amused by this. A genuine laugh broke free from your chest and you leaned forward to press the button so you could respond.

“I didn’t order any whole-house cleaning. Thanks, anyway.”

There was some whispering amongst the three and one of them was holding a phone that she typed a few words into. The one with the phone leaned forward next to speak.

“He said,” she was leaning forward with the cell phone in her hands and she seemed to be reading directly from a conversation she was having with Baekhyun.

“tell her that you will all be fired if you don’t clean the whole house today you won’t really be fired but tell her that you will all be fired if she doesn’t let you inside to clean oh also tell her that you all have been properly vetted so anything that happens is strictly protected and insured not that I think anything will happen I’m not saying you guys will do anything you know I am not that kind of person tell me what she says after that”

She read the entire thing word for word to you. Without paraphrasing. These were your sweet boyfriend's words read without any pause for punctuation or any changes in voice inflection.

You felt as if you were having an out-of-body experience.

The man was both incredibly thoughtful and incredibly ridiculous.

You were tempted in a way you hadn’t felt in a long while. Thoughts of heading to the spa for a full body refresh filtered through your head. Thoughts of simply walking by the sink full of dishes and the piles of sorted laundry and the soap scum covered shower door and walking right out that door for some pampering led you to reach for the door and turn the handle.

When you opened the door two of the three faces smiled at you. The girl with the phone was still looking down at it. She inhaled to speak again.

”well what happened did she open the door did you tell her about being fired all three of you have a family at home tell her you have six kids each that will starve to death there are twenty one lives in her hands no that's too many she wont believe that she is very smart it is not believable for someone so young to have six kids how about two what age do people start having kids look up into her eyes and look sad and say please I have six kids or two kids whichever you think she will believe”

“Stop. Tell him it’s fine. You all can come inside and clean. Tell him we will talk about this later, though.”

Her fingers were moving and she was typing furiously as she took a few steps inside of your apartment to stand behind the other two girls carrying boxes of cleaning supplies as they looked around surveying the place.

The girl with the phone was still talking. You wished she wasn’t.

“oh good make sure to tell her this part tell her we can only talk about this in her office with some fanta grape soda tell her that period”

She looked up into your face and leaned forward as if she was revealing something vital to the meaning of the message, “he put a period at the end,” she said with a small smile.

You lifted your hands, palms facing out to stop the girl. You shook your head back and forth, “Just…don't respond to him anymore. In fact, can you block him?”

”I cannot Miss Madam Byun. He is my boss. Please accept my sincere apology.” Her expression was serious and you responded with a hopeless shrug and a laugh. At least now, she’d tucked the phone safely away inside the pocket of her apron and quit relaying his insane text messages verbatim like that.

“Is this the entire home? Is there more somewhere?” One of the girls stood at your open bedroom doorway and had turned back around to face you with this seemingly innocent, yet strangely insulting question. You noticed her first destination was to open and close a closet door on the opposite side of the living room before she peered questioningly into your bedroom, confused as to where the entrance to the rest of your enormous mansion could be.

“No, it’s just one bedroom and one bathroom.”

Her posture straightened out and her eyes flew to the other girl who was standing at the kitchen. The two girls smiled at each other.

“We will be finished in an hour, Madam Byun. Would you prefer to remain on the premises or can we lock up for you when we leave?”

You hadn’t considered that you could just…go.

You could simply leave the unsavory bits to them and just head out to the spa or salon or out for a quick stroll in the park with a to-go cup of coffee from your favorite coffee shop.

Baekhyun had just given you an amazing gift. The gift of time.

You smiled a genuine smile and let them know that you would get dressed quickly and head out for the day. They were already busy finishing up with the mess in the kitchen when you headed toward the door.

They hailed your exit with dramatic 90 degree bows and passive smiles on their faces and you shook your head as you left, catching the eye of the one you figured to be the leader on your way out with an instruction for them, using your very best authorities manager voice so they knew you meant business.

“Make sure you tell him you all worked for, at least, 4 full hours today and make sure he pays you for it. I won’t accept any less. Let me know if he gives you any trouble. I can be even more annoying than he is. Got it?”

At last, the smiles on their faces were real and pulled as wide as their surprised eyes were. You closed the door to a chorus of their cheerful farewells ready to venture out into the world on a mission now to make yourself as sexy and beautiful as humanly possible.

You were going to absolutely kill that man tonight.

Part 1, ….. Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Can I Stay? Masterlist

[aonungyoufuck]

Runaway {pt 3}

Synopsys: You get a visit from Kiri and Rotxo, Ronal comes to see you. Ao’nung’s in trouble and you finally get to leave the marui for a bit. 

Parts: one , two , Four

DNI/BYF

“Wakey wakey” 

You groaned as the hard light of day reached your eyes. The only pain from your head as you felt numbness on your arm. 

“Rotxo i told you not to wake them like that” You heard Kiri say as she lifted your head up to get a drink of water. 

“It’s midday. They weren’t going to wake up if i didn't do anything” 

You could only roll your eyes. Head throbbing as last night's nightmare hit you. “Is everyone alright?”

“Alive? Yes. Alright no”

“What?”

“Rotxo!” 

He could only laugh as Kiri Slapped him “he means. Ao’nung’s in trouble for ‘being hostile’ with his mother”

“He was hostile? His mom?” you asked, feeling your chest. The now dried bandages proof that they have changed, if but the slightest. 

“Aside that. Everyone is well. Your parents said they’ll be coming to see you later” 

You gave Kiri a knowing look. One you were sure if you had been better. She would hit you too. 

“Come Sit down. I want to know of your days”

You watched as the two settled. Your eyes darting outside to peak a little not that you could head out if that. 

“Well your Brothers are staying out of trouble. As much as they can, that is. I think your Father has been doing well? He usually is around your mother or our Olo’eyktan.” Rotxo explained stealing your now empty cup of water.

Kiri watched as you groaned before seeing you plop back down. “Well what’s the matter now?

“I want to try to move, I swear my tails going to fall off if i remain sitting here any longer” you spoke kicking your legs. “Not like i cant i know but im suppose to be resting”

“And you are”

All three of you turned. Frozen in place as you watched Ronal come into your pod. 

“I suppose its been enough days of bed rest that you could move but the slightest.” Ronal watched the other two stand up straight beside you “You Two wait outside. Let me check on Y/n’s Wound” 

The two nodded bidding their goodbye’s for now before leaving 

“Come Sit up let me see”

You followed orders. Hearing the disgusting sound of cloth leaving flesh and took a whiff of the smell of healing skin. But you looked down. The wound looked closed. Almost but maybe the discharge of liquid and old paste. You felt her hit your head 

“It seem’s It is healing well. Any pain inside?” 

“Slight discomfort when I breathe in.” 

“Come take a deep breathe out” 

And you did. No pain but the smallest of sounds of gurgling “it seems inside needs more time. But you are well, Thank Eywa for that”

“I uh..” you muttered trying to find the right words “ i was wanting to ask you something Tsahik” 

“And that would be?”

“I wanted to know if there is anything i could do for you as a thank you. Help you in any way. Not Tsakarem But if i can help with your delivery, if any at all other help. I'm more than willing for. For helping me, and for helping my family” You asked closing your eyes and bowing your head a little. 

“ I think you are foolish to ask me such a thing. However.. As you know i only have Tsireya to fall back on.” She explained removing the rags and just applying a cream substance on your flesh. “I will take up your offer however”  

“Really?”

“Not Tsakarem. But I will teach you to help me when the time comes. And its coming by soon” She patted down the substance watching your reaction of a slight twitch of pain. “Now come, Try and stand up without using your arms too much alright?” 

You nodded. Relying on your legs to push you up. Ronal standing beside you gently tugging you up without moving your arms. Your Tail pushing yourself as well when you felt like you were about to fall. 

“You are free to move around. Be careful outside tho and make sure not to submerge this wound. Ill have Tsireya come by later to Fix up the Marui so you are free to roam about it much better”

“Thank you” You nodded flicking your fingers and extending them towards her. “And Ao’nung?”

“He is dealing with his punishment. I am not at all to please with his attitude as of late” 

You could only stand there. Watching her go. Didn't dare to ask further. This was a good amount of interaction that you didn't want to ruin with pestering and making her angry.

You began to move. Feeling a shooting pain go up your spine from laying down for a long time. Preparing yourself you went out of the marui. 

“So?”

“So what?” you spoke, rubbing your eyes. Getting use to day light. 

“So did you get a knot on your tail?” 

You didn't need to look to hear the hard ‘SMACK’ to the back of Rotxo’s head. 

“No. luckily for i. Eywa has blessed me with Ronal’s grace” You spoke squinting your eyes. Looking at them finally in light. It was nice to feel the warmth surrounding you. Ignoring the throbbing of your arm just hanging by the side. 

“So I take it you cant move too much right?” Kiri asked you. For once you were glad to talk to her more one on one. It was nice to be able to talk freely to your siblings Rather than having to constantly watch over them. Making sure they dont get in trouble and Mostly being their third Parent. 

Not that you minded it. You loved watching over them. Mostly watching over the grave they dig when they try explaining to your parents why they did what they did. It was your source of entertainment. 

“No. Or i would rather Face Eywa first before feeling Ronal’s rage if i open my wound up at all” 

You could only watch the two as they guided you towards the sand. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the sand warm up your feet. It felt nice to be touched by the sun. The air and the mist of the ocean right near you. 

“So…not to have been listening in on your conversation. But Your helping Tashik?”

You squinted. You knew That Rotxo wouldn’t have acted alone. So you ever so slightly gave kiri a side eye as she twirled her thumbs together. 

“Yes. If you must know i just want to help out as much as i can”

“Sure”

“And what is that suppose to mean Kiri?” 

You watched as the two just avoided your eyes. Watching as the two escaped to the waves of the water. Where you could not follow. 

“Y/n? What are you doing out here?”

You turned, Even if you didnt need to. You knew that voice after the past few nights. 

“Ao’nung. So nice to see you out in daylight” watching him rub the back of his neck as he looked out to see “but aren’t you suppose to be dealing with a ‘punishment’ or something of that sort?”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“No whatever will i get from that?”

There was silence. The ambience of the living creature that was your home filling your ears. 

“Its uh” You turned to look at him watching as he tried to find the right words. “Nice er.. Good to see you out of bed you know?”

“Oh were you worried about me?”

“Nevermind go back to bed” Letting out the faintest of laugh. It was nice to be alive. At the expense at jokes of you from either Ao’nung or your brothers. 

“You better get going before they figure you are gone” you explained. Watching as he let out a groan. “Don’t worry we’ll talk once again. Hopefully on much better terms and when one isnt nearly dying and the other is in trouble” 

He nodded. Not even bothering to give you a goodbye as he headed off. Staying still. Feeling the breeze, Eywa had really blessed you, you began to think. Perhaps laying down on the sand wouldn’t be so bad. And that you did. Feeling her breathe. Hear heartbeat at one with you, this is what kiri had once told you about. And at peace in her arms and by her, you fell asleep. 

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

Gasping, choking on your own airway as you watched your brother’s dive. You didnt know when you got hit but you had gotten hit. Feeling your heartbeat increase. It pained you, the stinging feeling of the water on your now open chest. You Felt the entirety of the people around you. The chaos of the sky people above you. It pained you hurt you to even hold your breathe. And you wanted to scream when you felt yourself be tugged up to the surface. 

“Y/n?”

“Shit!” 

You couldn’t look or see, Everything had hurt so much but you could feel Tsireya hold your hand as you felt the surface of the water drag. You couldn't open your eyes. for the blinding pain wouldn't let you. 

“Is” it even pained to talk. To whisper to even breathe and yet you needed to know. Eywa Please have mercy on you. “Is Neteyam safe?” is all you could ask. For had it not been for you. It surely would have been him.

“I am here. I am here sister” 

You couldn’t really see. You just saw the blurriness but you could faintly see them.

Peace. And all you heard was your name being called repeatedly. You could almost hear the faintest of heart beats aligned with your own 

“y/n!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n?” 

“Is it dead?” 

“Spider!” 

You took in a sharper inhale than you had intended. The Tide had come in and wet your legs but finally you had woken up. “What?”

“Your lucky that the water didnt take you out into the open sea” Spider commented. It wasn’t eclipse But you could tell you had been out here for some time. 

“Did no one bother to wake me up beforehand?”

“To be honest. Once i headed out with Rotxo i kinda forgot about you”

“Charmed” is all you could comment back. Sitting back up before standing fully. You had re-lived your near death. And you were ever so happy to be awake and See everyone alive and well. “I better get back to the pod. Im sure i only have maybe a few more treatments and ill be good as new” you pondered

There was a minor pain for sure and maybe more than two. But you were optimistic on the outcome. 

You couldn’t focus on what your siblings were saying. Not one bit. Too deep in thought. 

“Right Y/n?”

“Huh?” finally looking up you noticed Ao’nung in the pod alongside all of you. Spear in hand a basket of baked fish in another. 

“Ao’nung said he could be here. But we would like some time alone as family. Right Y/n?”

You silently rolled your eyes. “No Ao’nung is right. This is his mothers. Pod as well you know?”

Lo’ak could only huff and roll his eyes. Not that he didn't like Ao’nung. But he had hoped to have time with his family. Although probably just to talk about his progress with Tsireya. Of which you could just Roll your eyes at. 

“Fine But i am not at all too happy with you sleeping here with Y/n”

“You make it sound like we did more than sleeping”

Of which your tail smacked him at his knees 

“Will you two cut it out. Gimme that i'm starving”

Neteyam laughed besides you. “Figures as much. You were baking out in the sun for a long time” 

You didnt even bother to bite back. Too tired. Too exhausted. Watching as the rest of your siblings sat down around you Ao’nung besides you. You were sure at this moment. You looked like you were near death too. 

“Here let me fix your hair. Pretty sure you have some sand in here” Kiri spoke standing up as she started to let your hair go and shake it out. 

You could only continue to eat. Listening to their small talk. Lo’ak speaking to Ao’nung about how he would go about asking his parents to allow him to court Tsireya. You didnt particularly know why you had suddenly gotten so tired. Maybe it was Kiri massaging your head? The small hum of your siblings talking. Maybe Tuk muttered her song cord as she looked at the new bead added? 

You didn't know. But you just  let your eyes falter. Didn't even realize but you had laid your head on Ao’nungs shoulder. As sleep finally took you away once again.

---------

(oops forgot the tag list)

@simp-erformarvelwomen

@luvlykrispy

[hiemaldesirae]

Ok so imagine an au where early on into their friendship Vox gets the idea that he’s probably just some entertainment to pass the time for Alastor and that their friendship will end in Vox being heartbroken and Alastor moving on like nothing happened I mean he’d seen it happen with Alastors other business partners so it’s only a matter of time before that it happens to him and the way Alastor doesn’t seem interested when Vox talks about anything certainly doesn’t help so why would Vox put his all in a friendship that was probably doomed from the start so instead of just waiting for the eventual heartbreak Vox slowly becomes more and more distant he would talk less give short answers to any questions and worse of all he wouldn’t talk about any of his ambitions anymore ensuring that they would just quietly drift apart and for the most part it’s all going well but Alastor isn’t dumb he realized pretty quickly what Vox was trying to do you see Vox was right about a lot of things he didn’t really value what they had as much he was planning on just abandoning Vox whenever he got bored but that was in the beginning now it was different Alastor got unexpectedly attached to Vox even seeing him as his inspiration his muse and only his he can see that Vox is trying to leave him and that just won’t do Vox would stay by his side no matter what.

HOLD THE PHONE... nonny youre cooking. youre cooking like hell rn im literally frothing at the mouth for this concept

ill be fr i feel kiiinda like a hypocrite saying i like this sort of storyline because i kinda hate seeing it displayed in popular media like time-regression manhwas and stuff, but for some reason it just feels like such natural progression here i cant find anything wrong with this specific portrayal of them because. Yeah. in a world where vox is a little more cognizant with perhaps cracked rose glasses, he'd probably realize that alastors just toying with him early on. and maybe at one point he might have thought, no but i can fix him... but as time went on, he slowly grew more and more disillusioned and given how dangerous he knows breaking off the alliance directly with alastor would be he probably begins to collect allies elsewhere and branch off from alastor slowly- tries to make himself quieter, more withdrawn and *boring* so that he can make alastor break it off with him first and disregard whatever he does next

but ALASTOR on the other hand... oh he is Not taking that !!! at first if he'd seen vox slowly inching away, he might have paid a blind eye to it and let it happen- that is, if that was back when they'd first met. now, with years of having vox by his side... how could he possibly go back to a world without that delightful, silly little picture box of his? no, no, this couldnt do- if vox was going to try and slip away, that little rascal, then he'd just have to work harder to keep him by his side!

thus starts a bunch of shenanigans where vox, suddenly treated to alastor paying MUCH much more attention to him than ever before and lavishing praise and affection on him for no apparent reason is simultaenously terrified out of his mind (is he lovebombing me just to kill me later?!?!?) and also deliriously happy (because alastors finally paying attention to him, does this mean he wont kill me??) and its a silly romcom if you ignore the fact that alastor looks like hes about to atticwife vox the second one more person looks at his muse

[starsofang]

Dear Angie I think I have scared a lot of people today because of the shriek I made when I saw the update and all the other ones I made through reading the chapter while I was standing in line with my friend so she could have a book signed by an author, some people lokked at me with funny faces and my friend now has a bruised in her arm because I gripped it so hard to shake her.

But we'll to the important part the chapter, first, I fucking hate Graves your description made me freaking gag I hope he dies a horrible death the one that Price said seems fitting.

Now, I can not talk about this chapter without going through it chronologically because so much happened in it. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.” Gaz, being the first one to talk to her, makes so much sense because to me, he seems the most love struck by her. “The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.” How did Ghost know? Does he know what the poem means? Has he told Price or not? Or maybe Graved talked to him in his head earlier? I hope it's the last one. “Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. You say it to him, Johnny, defend your boyfriend. You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, ... You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, ... It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of. My poor Gaz, I can't, I'm going to steal it from Graves just to give it back to you, my baby boy. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves. Price you call me that again and I'm going fucking feral I'm a sucker for that pet name. “It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished. GOD, I'M A SUCKER FOR THESE INTERACTIONS, MY FAVOURITE EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATED BABY IS TRYING HIS BEST GIVE HIM A GOLDEN STAR.

Now now now now the Price kiss is just the best, I cant stand it, all that dialoge, how you described the kiss (I supposed that it was her first so I missed that it wasn't awkward but it was amazing best). “I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.” Well, man, let your intrusive thoughts win already. KISS HER PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU. “Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” yeah... try... I don't know who fault that was right, Angie. “I hope that is okay.” Darling it is, they are all fucking each other. Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.” Angie, I know you remark this so many times, so we remember what we could have had, but that you take it away, and I don't know how to feel.

I hope that Gaz and Soap are the first thing that Y/N sees when they wake up. I need some time with them because he haven't had time with the reader.

Now, this fun fact is accompanied by an image of how I imagine Price's quarters. So the fun fact is that the beds in any ship are built in the walls so they don't move because imagine being in a ship with a normal bed, it would end in the other end of the room, so that way is less dangerous. And from the medieval era to the early 20th Century the closet bed (witch is just a bed built in a closet) was surprisingly popular across Europe. I suspect that the fact that the beds in the ships are built like that comes from the closet bed, but I haven't really looked into it or researched it.

This is what a bed in a ship used to look like.

They were normally individual, even the captain's one. But because Price is fucking massive (like the other three) and for future parts of the story 👀 I changed it for a double bed with a more intricate wood work (I headcanon that his ship is his pride and that even if it is small it is really beautiful and gorgeous). So this is the one that I imagine.

And for the layout of his quarters, I imagine it like this.

The bed would be at the right of the desk, and the rest for me is perfect for him. At this point, I'm just going to make a Pinterest board with all my references photos because they are a lot.

To finish, thank you for the early chapter. You feed us extremely well, and we appreciate it, love you so much 🩵💖🩵

PLSSS DON’T TRAUMATIZE YOUR FRIENDS (that’s so me tho, i do exactly that when a fic i love is updated LMFOAOS)

i said this in another ask, but i had to make graves a nasty freak because unfortunately, his game character is one i like even if he’s a bad guy 😫 had to do it for my sanity

gaz is 100% the most lovestruck and much more open about it, he’s a very gentle lover imo. all of them (ghost is a progress) have a very special feeling thing going on, it’s all different but in their own lil ways.

my thought process with ghost knowing about the telescope is that he knows the prophecy like the back of his hand, given that it’s detrimental to him. the verse in the prophecy about a looking glass for ocean eyes is 100% what he first thought of graves wanting, and the telescope is pretty important in the prophecy. it was more of a ‘he immediately knows’ kinda moment since he has the prophecy engraved in his head.

“they’re all fucking each other” goodbyeeee that line had me on the floor

y’all were mad about the almost gaz kiss but price got it instead 😜 a win in my books

the BED!!! hello, i absolutely can envision his bed/quarters looking like. i 100% agree with you on the fact he takes pride in his ship, because that’s ALL he has, that’s his entire life, and hello they’re pirates obviously there’s thievery going on for them to have the funds to do it. UGH those pictures are so pretty, i’m absolutely going to imagine that now every time i write about it. if u make a pinterest board i HAVE to see it.

MWAH I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVE AS ALWAYS POOKIE