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corvidcrossbow · 4 months

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~•♡•~ Total Eclipse Of The Heart

➳ Summary: You take Daryl to watch the 2017 solar eclipse (Daryl x GN!Reader)

➳ Setting: Southern Virginia, August 21st, 2017 (in the 6 year timeskip in season 9)

➳ Word count: 1.6k

➳ C/W: Nothing

➳ A/N: Simple thing cuz I hated Leah watching something as special as the eclipse w/ Daryl in the show cuz I DO NOT LIKE her ass so I rewrote it cuz I believe there's few things more bonding than watching an eclipse with someone. Whippin out the dad music reference on this one. (I am working on reqs! I just have training for my job which my boss very reassuringly dubbed “bootcamp” and health shit is beating my ass I need to call like 3 specialty clinics again um 🗿)

“Ya ever gon’ tell me where we goin'?”

“Nope. Almost there,” You replied, a cheeky grin on your face as you swiveled your head back to glance at Daryl who sat behind you on his motorcycle. You'd dragged him out of his guilt-ridden solitude in the forest and demanded he get on, saying you needed to show him something and would not be taking ‘nah’ for an answer. You'd been driving southwest for nearly two hours now, headed towards something specific.

Daryl had little sense of the date, having spent nearly the last 3 ½ years out in the woods, wrapped up in his search for Rick. You stayed with him from time to time, Carol checking in as well, but he was too stubborn to go home with either of you no matter how many times you urged it. Even if he knew the day, you weren't sure he'd even know why it was special.

You, however, had been tracking the calendar and lunar cycles, and kept one specific date and pattern in your mind for the last 7 years; August 21st, 2017. You remembered ages ago, reading on science forums and listening to programs on the television, that today, the paths of the moon and the sun would perfectly align and grace a total solar eclipse across the entirety of the United States.

Your lives were such shit in so many ways: flesh eating, rotting corpses snarling after you at every second, run in after run in with malicious and corrupt people and groups, the lack of food, water, shelter and security, so many people gone – and that didn't include everything from before the dead reawoke. And with Daryl unadmittably depressed after the bridge, you would've done anything to show him there were other things in life to focus on. To live for.

So you left Alexandria early in the morning, found Daryl's camp, and forced him to join you. At first he'd thought something godawful had once again disturbed the communities, so bad you couldn’t tell him. But when you started driving the opposite direction, he grew confused and repeatedly asked what was going on, yet you never gave him an answer. Still, he trusted it was important – trusted you – and let you lead him.

❥-》》—————➣

You pulled off the side of the road, powering down the engine and putting up the kickstand, sliding off and stepping to walk into the forest. You'd gone further down into Virginia, knowing that was closer to totality. It wouldn't be complete, but the distance made a difference. “Alright, c'mon.”

Daryl grabbed your wrist, tugging you back and catching your attention, his eyebrows narrowed. “Really? Tha hell's s’all this? Ya haul me'ah hundred miles away tah walk in tha damn forest?”

“Ya spend all your time in a forest anyway, Dixon.” His expression hardered a little, and you sighed. “Please just follow me. I promise you, it's worth it.”

He looked over the features of your face, judging the sentiment they conveyed, and after a moment let you go. You were already here, no point in going back now. As you spun back around, he begrudgingly trailed after you.

You scanned the environment as you went, stopping near an opening in the canopy of trees that gave view to the sky. You could tell by the slanting of shadows and the slightly abnormal shape of light above you that the process had already begun, all that was left was to observe. So you set your bag down and sat, motioning for Daryl to as well.

“Thi'sa picnic or sum?” He questioned, grunting a little as he unsurely slung his belongings off his shoulder to the ground and did the same, settling beside you.

“Could be, I do have some food.” He didn't seem amused. “But no, not a picnic. You know what the day is? Any idea why it's meaningful?”

“Ts'summer, kno’ tha’. M'ah supposed tah kno’?”

“Maybe, I don't expect you to. Here.” You twisted and opened your bag, reaching for a welding mask you'd brought along and passed it to him. “Look at the sun.”

The archer eyed the facial shield, then you, but listened and held it to his face before shifting his gaze up. He squinted, taking sight of the arc carving that ate into the historically circular form of the burning celestial body. And you explained; “It's August 21st… 2017.”

He had to think for a bit. “Tha eclipse?” He lowered the mask and peered back at you. Memories lodged deep in the layers of his mind sparked; learning about eclipses way back in highschool and hearing his teacher mention it, then the annular one in ‘94 and seeing pictures plastered all over the news where they discussed the future.

“Yeah, thought we should see it. It'll look better down here, not perfect, but still… and the lens on that is dark enough it shouldn't hurt our eyes,” You answered, taking your own look before laying back and using your bag as a pillow. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but that's roughly the last thing you cared about right now.

He couldn't help but just stare for a minute, studying how nonchalant you were about everything. How you'd so easily removed him from his rut when so many other attempts had failed, even with his cluelessness around your intentions – like some larger force took hold and finally willed him to break his destructive routine.

Daryl sprawled out next to you on the forest floor, trading the welding shield back and forth over the course of the next half hour, as well as a piece of paper to see the casted geometry. You both watched as more and more of the sun was etched away, taking mental images each time and comparing the new form to the old. It was mostly quiet, lost in similar awe but varying thoughts. You inched closer every time it was his turn, assuming he noticed but didn't point it out.

“Y'know… total solar eclipses are meant to be when the deities and energies fuse, just as the paths do. A window for opportunities and transformation… time for change,” You commented, recalling all people said about the symbolism of such an event. He gave an ‘Mm’, just so you knew he'd heard you, but paid more attention to the progression in the ethers.

The world around you began to rapidly darken, a sliver of orange glow visible in the makeshift glasses. Knowing it was close, you slid your left palm into his right, weaving fingers together, and he returned the hold, still remaining absorbed in the view.

The moon crossed over the sun – at least as best it would from your vantage point; golden rays illuminating around solid black. As Daryl's eyes locked on the sky, taking it all in, yours locked on him, choosing to watch him over a potentially once in a lifetime occurrence. He lowered the mask to briefly see it fully, now reaching for the sheet.

He looked at peace, maybe for the first time in his life: the constant storm of thoughts that persistently clouded his mind finally parting, even if for just a small moment. You witnessed the glitter of genuine emotion return to his blue's, something you'd feared was so long abandoned it may have been forgotten. Rich browns of his wavy hair glowed iridescent auburns when shimmers of sunlight peeked through the leaves, perfectly complementing everything about his being.

You knew you each needed that change.

“I love you.”

He took a second, making sure the sound of your voice was real and not crafted by his own imagination. His head turned, somewhat staggered to find your eyes already meeting his. It was impossible to rip away, your visions warping together as you seemed to merge, entranced by the little crescents that reflected on each other's irises. His free hand ditched the paper and reached over as he partly rolled to his side.

“For a long time.”

In fluid movements, Daryl's calloused fingers smoothed across the delicate skin on your cheek, leaning in and bringing you to him in a longing kiss. You didn't entirely expect it, although you didn't expect anything in particular at all, too unsure of how he'd react. But you pushed back against him, deepening the kiss and paying no thought to anything beside how it felt to finally overlap with him – till he broke away.

“I love ya too,” He mused, accent thickening in the confession. When you opened your mouth to continue, he shut you up with another peck and angled your face straight above. “Watch. M'not bein’ tha reason ya miss this.”

Words could wait, but the eclipse would not. So you obliged, cuddling closer to him and squeezing his hand as birds and insects sung in a concerned ensemble triggered by the daylight's disappearance.

The tranquility was eerie, a sensation mostly left in the rubble of society and replaced by prevalent chaos. You wondered if the feeling was shared elsewhere; at home with everyone in Alexandria, with survivors across the entire rest of the country. Maybe those who didn't know thought the holy spirit was returning to rescue your raptured souls. Did the walkers pause to look too? Everything so out of the ordinary it caught their attention?

But none of that mattered to you, because you had it here. And you basked in it with the one person you'd always hoped you would've.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

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moonlightpetalz6 · 1 year

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Kinktober Day 5 (Somnophilia)

Character: Belphegor (Obey Me) x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, pet names, harsh language, unprotected sex, sleeping reader, exhibitionism

Somnophilia: A sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person.

Wc: 1,741

A/N: Here's day 5 of my Kinktober series! (Now I have to work on getting days 6&7 finished up and actually posted by tomorrow so I can actually be caught up) I did go for a more submissive yandere Belphie with this one, but it was fun! I tried to write down all the warnings, so I apologize if I missed any!

______________________________________________________________

Belphegor sat on his bed, squeezing his pillow close to his chest as he glared down at your sleeping form with a pout on his face. "How dare you sleep after what you did." He growls childishly while poking your cheek watching as you give no reaction. Just moments ago, the two of you had been snuggled together deep in sleep, dreaming away. However, during your dream, your body starts to push back against your boyfriend, causing him to wake up with an unpleasant issue. A slight blush graces his face as the demon carefully palms at his pants, trying to discreetly take care of his growing erection. His eyes stay focused on your sleeping form, smiling as he watches your face scrunch up as you turn your head away from him. "Tch. don't look away from me, baby." He mumbled carefully, moving your face back in his direction.

He lets out a hum as he tilts his head, admiring your cute face. "…I don't think this will be enough." He muttered while leaning down to kiss your lips. He hummed loving the taste of your lips as he felt his erection grow just from a simple kiss. "Fuck Y/n…look how filthy you make me." He cursed while pulling away from the kiss a bit of saliva falling from the corner of your mouth. Belphegor looks down at you, his eyes darkened with lust as he slowly licks his lips, his mind running wild with all the things he could do to your sleeping body. Of course, this wasn't the first time he's done something to you in your sleep, as the two of you talked about it at the start of your relationship with you consenting.

"Baby, you're so cute and sexy like this…it makes me really want to take advantage of you." He growls the last part as he positions himself on top of you. He slides a leg between yours, carefully spreading them as he grinds his bulge against your pussy. A shaky breath escapes his lips as pink dusts his cheeks. "Fuck baby, doesn't this feel good?" He mumbles, eyes focusing on your breasts. You liked to fall asleep in a tank top and underwear, always complaining that the room got too hot. Your boyfriend hums as he leans down, tenderly kissing both mounds, watching as your nipples slowly poke through the thin fabric. "That's right baby…your body is so obedient for me even when you're having such sweet dreams." He praises you while his hands caress up and down your sides.

Heavy pants slip from his mouth as he picks up the pace, grinding even harder into you, his body wanting more. As desire starts clouding the demon's mind, a sudden movement catches his attention, causing his eyes to quickly dart to the left. Having been too quick to let lust take over his mind, Belphegor completely forgot one important thing about the room he was in. There across the room lay Beelzebub's sleeping figure, his face turned towards your shared bed, eyes still closed. Cursing for forgetting his twin's presence, Belphegor debates whether he should continue his filthy act, his pace slowing down as he contemplates. "Mm…Belphie…" Your sudden moan causes his eyes to widen as he looks up at your sleeping face, the tiniest shade of pink on your cheeks.

"Sweetheart, are you dreaming of me?" He lightly breathes, his hips moving on their own, this time more aggressive as his pupils feel like they're shaping into hearts as he slides his tongue down your neck, hands groping at your chest desperately as he leaves wet sloppy kisses all over your exposed skin. Your body twitches as you wiggle in your sleep, tiny noises leaving your lips, driving him insane as he goes to lift your tank top just above your breasts, watching them pop free with a small bounce. He whimpers at the sight. “Y/n…Y/n!” He whines, his erection painfully throbbing. "It's not enough…I need to be inside your beautiful pussy." he cries, a hand trailing down your stomach before tearing past your panties, his fingers sliding up and down your wet folds. "So wet just for me…so good my sleeping princess~" He purrs, feeling a sense of pride from the fact you were this wet just from him grinding against you.

His eyes travel back to his twin, who still slept peacefully. Belphegor hummed, leaning down to trap one of your breasts between his lips as he let out a soft moan, his eyes glued to his brother's form. When you became his, Belphegor made sure that none of his brothers ever got the chance to take you sexually. However, the thought of his twin waking up to catch him sinfully corrupting your body as you slept turned the avatar of sloth on more than you could imagine. He inserts a finger inside your needy hole, listening as a small gasp escapes your throat, causing him to whine as he pulls away with a small pop. "That's right, sweetheart, it feels good, doesn't it? Let your body tell me how good I'm doing~" He sang, lovestruck with you as he started to suck on the other mound, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he pumped another finger.

He wanted to be inside you so bad it was killing him with each second of tasting your sweet flesh in his mouth and feeling your juices leaking down his two fingers as he roughly pumped them deep inside you. "I wonder what Beel would do if he woke up right now…" He whispered, giving the bud one more flick of his tongue before sliding down to your mess, his tongue sliding along his lips as he let out a desperate whine. "You smell so good, baby…" He presses a kiss against your clit, watching as it twitches. Glancing at his twin again, he gives a lazy smirk before stuffing his face with your sweet juices, multiple whimpers and moans leaving his lips, sending vibrations against your pussy. "So good. Sosososo soooooooo good!” He cries, tears forming as his love for you feels too much.

"You're so obedient for me Y/n…and only me." He growls the last part obsessively as he glares over at his brother. 'Wake up and see how i'm treating her Beel. See how I'm violating the girl we love.' He mentally pleas eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slides his tongue inside you, a shiver going down his spine as he slowly pushes his pants down, whimpering when his hard cock smacked against his stomach, the cool air hitting the flushed skin as he slides a hand up and down giving it a few good pumps. “My Y/n is so perfect…I want to ruin you." He growls, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue as you reach your first orgasm of the night, your sleeping body jolting from the pleasure as your face scrunches.

"That's right baby, such a good sleepy girl~" Belphegor whined, giving your sensitive pussy a few more licks followed by tender kisses as he sat up straight. "Don't worry baby… I'm almost at my limit." He whispers before tossing your legs over his shoulder as he positions himself between your thighs, his cock twitching with anticipation. With a quiet hiss, he pushes himself inside your wet walls, practically cumming on the spot as he tosses his head back, a fucked-out grin stretching across his face as he bites his lip, eyes wide with joy and pleasure, a dark blush gracing his pale skin. He lets out loud pathetic whines as he thrusts deep inside you, wanting to make it so your walls memorize his cocks shape and size.

"Fuck baby, your pussy is so good to me~ It's almost recognized my cocks perfectly ~" He cries, his tail happily swaying behind him as he brings it up to caress your sleeping face. He watches you smile, leaning into his tail touch as you unconsciously bring a hand up to hold it close to your drool-stained cheek. The action causes Belphegor's heart to skip a beat as he feels his cock twitch, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm. "Fuck so cute, Y/n! My cute little human, so fucking perfect even when you're dreaming away, so oblivious to your filthy demon ravishing your sexy body." He laughs, hands gripping your hips enough to leave bruises as he digs his claws into your delicate flesh.

You flinch, letting out a small whimper, causing Belphegor to fawn over you as he rubs the new wounds gently. "I'm sorry baby~ shh, it's okay; your Belphie just got a little carried away." He whispers reassuringly while pressing gentle kisses over your closed eyes, letting out a small chuckle before biting his lip as he feels your walls clench around him. "Are you going to cum again Y/n?" he whispers, going to caress your face. "I am too… I'm going to cum in your pretty pussy and fill you right up~" He cheers, eyes darkening with his love for you. He gives a few more sloppy thrusts while letting out pathetic pleading cries. "Please pay attention to me baby~" He cried, kissing all over your face, knowing you wouldn't wake up from your deep slumber. He licks over your lips before desperately pressing his own against yours in a sloppy kiss drool covering your mouth. "Cum with me Y/n…cum with your favorite demon." He whimpers, his body shaking as he feels both your releases. His semen sprayed deep inside you, making sure he had filled your pussy to the point it slowly started leaking out as he gave a few more thrusts, not wanting to leave your insides as he hovered above you, drool falling from his chin.

"Please don't ever leave me Y/n…" He pleads, pressing his forehead against yours as he gently caresses your cheek. His eyes are soft and filled with love as he stares closely at all your features, a small chuckle leaving his lips before lazily glancing to the side, a mischievous smirk growing on his face as he notices his twin lying in bed opposite of him, staring wide-eyed at the two of you his cheeks a deep red mouth open in awe. Belphegor chuckles while leaning down next to your ear, whispering his following words just loud enough for his twin to hear.

"You're mine forever my sleeping princess~"

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trsrina · 7 months

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valentine’s day with zerobaseone

gn reader, established relationship, fluff !! mentions of food, not proofread

jiwoong

- even after having been in a relationship with jiwoong for some time now, you still kick your feet and get all excited when you receive your yearly valentine’s surprise from him

- sends a box of chocolates and a bouquet of blue roses to your workplace in the middle of the day with a love letter in it (probably some cheesy love poem he racked his brain to come up with and feels very proud of)

- it will probably be something like “roses are red. my face is too. that only happens when i’m around you” written with crayons and decorated with silly childish stickers and doodles ,and you had to resist letting out the loudest laugh ever at that since you were still at work

other members under the cut!

zhanghao

- sorry but YOU have to ask him to be your valentine, not the other way around and you have to do it fast before anyone else (hanbin) snatches him away from you

- no but seriously he would’ve cleared out his entire schedule for that day just to spend it all with you going out just idk eating at some cute but overpriced café (don’t worry, he pays), shopping and just gossiping over some coffee

- ends the day with a night stroll at a park with your hands intertwined and swinging by your sides maybe feed some ducks you saw while chatting the night away and just giggling to each other about something silly. it was simple but meant so much to the both of you

hanbin

- this is so serious for him like no one takes valentine’s day as serious as him so he makes sure to give you princess treatment throughout the whole day

- you wake up to the sound of a grizzling pan and smelling the aroma of the breakfast he’s preparing for you and damn this man CAN cook. serves you a five course meal at 8 am in the morning with like heart-shaped pancakes and eggs like this man is not real (sorry i just love domestic hanbin)

- after breakfast, you two return to bed since you were still feeling sleepy. he cuddles you to sleep, your head buried in his chest and literally clinging onto him, him with his arms tightly wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, gently patting you to sleep as he leaves small pecks all around your face and he probably has even more stuff planned later in the day

matthew

- matthew biggest green flag. spent so long planning the perfect valentine’s date for you and surprised you with a romantic picnic at the beach. he even sets up a table and chairs for the both of you, made sure all the food was perfect

- i can envision him covering your eyes during the walk from the car to the beach then surprising you. pulls out your chair for you and pushes your hair behind your ear and when you ask why he’ll say, “just wanted to take a better look at your pretty face”

- makes you giggles at his jokes the whole time and at last, gives you a final surprise which was an adorable cake with ‘happy valentine’s day’ written on it with icing that he spent the majority of yesterday making for you (u have no idea how many times he had to redo it)

taerae

- he serenades you. that would be the most taerae thing to do like seriously. he would start planning since christmas, writing a whole love song for you, him writing and composing it for you all by himself

- he would be so nervous when the day arrives. he would take you out to a nice restaurant, surprising you with flowers and all, then when the both of you return home, he sits you down on the couch and takes out his guitar

- starts strumming and you’re like, “i don’t recognise this song?” and realises that he wrote it and it took everything in you to not start crying on the spot. serenades you with his honey-like sweet voice while looking into your eyes like a lovesick man, literally making heart eyes at you and smiling like an idiot

ricky

- sends you a text in the morning which reads, “morning, baby. happy valentine’s day. i reserved a table at xxx restaurant for us at 6 pm. i’ll pick you up at 5:30 pm. i love you.”

- the moment you receive that text you start giggling and kicking your feet while burying your face into your pillow, only ricky can make you feel this way.

- you dress up for him and the moment you see him, he’s leaning against his car in a button up with the first few buttons unbuttoned and a huge bouquet of flowers. holds your hand the whole time, during the ride and dinner, listens intently to all of your rambling during the whole of dinner and also pays !!! (bc he’s young and rich)

gyuvin

- rings your doorbell enthusiastically with flowers and gifts dressed in his best attire, fixing his hair every few seconds to make sure he looks perfect for you. shyly hands you the bouquet he arranged himself when you open the door

- he would drag you to a dog café for your date and he’s most likely even more excited about this than you, just looking at the bright grin on his face and the giggles he lets out while he plays with the puppies makes a smile appear on your face too

- would probably point at every dog and says it looks like you because it’s cute just like you. no but imagine you guys sharing a pasta together and accidentally recreating the lady and tramp scene omg

gunwook

- bowling date with gunwook omg okay his jaw will literally drop the moment he sees you arrive all dressed up like he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and won’t stop giggling and blushing every time he glances at you

- pays for everything and takes the chance to show off his skills in bowling. coolest guy ever just the way he confidently strikes the bowling pins with the bowling ball but gets so shy and blush when you cheer for him and compliment him

- and when you’re getting food together at a restaurant, he would not stop staring at you. his head propped up on his hand as he stares at you hopelessly, utterly lost in your eyes and down bad. he’s the type to wipe your mouth for you when you have something on the corner of your lips.

yujin

- your first valentine’s day together so he would be so anxious about it and shy. he would make sure everything goes smoothly and plans it all out like buying tickets to that movie you said you wanted to watch in advance and making reservations for a restaurant you mentioned you wanted to visit before (most likely the first time he ever made a reservation by himself in his lifetime)

- takes you to the movies and insists on paying for your popcorn and drinks. probably watching some cheesy romcom together and since it’s valentine’s day, you’re surrounded with couples which just makes him even shyer

- holds your hand and whispers silly comments about the movie in your ear throughout the movie. he couldn’t focus at all because you were right beside him

short little valentine’s headcanons that i rushed to make it on time 😓

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

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Cinderella Doesn’t Believe in Fairytales (pt 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3). (Part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

This, Cinderella thinks, is a fairytale.

The nobles are bowing to the Prince, to her, and the air smells like the desserts on the table to her left. The music is still going, a sweet flute that serves a placeholder until the greetings to the prince are done. Over the bowed heads of the dancers nearest them, Cinderella can see her stepfamily curtsying to the arrival of the Prince.

Curtsying to her.

“I am glad that my tardiness did not hold up the festivities,” the Prince says. He inclines his head to the dais where the Queen and King sit. “We should resume.”

The Queen and King.

The Queen is as beautiful as the rumors say. Her long, black hair, streaked with grey, falls around her shoulders like vines, pinned into curled shapes against her violet gown with pins that sparkle like the night sky. She wears a simple gold circlet that glitters in the candlelight. Is it encrusted in jewels?

The King wears a heavier crown in burnished copper. His eyes remind her of the Prince’s, hawkish and knowing when he looks at them. He’s dressed completely in black except for the sash that crosses his chest. That is the same violet as his wife’s cape and his son’s jacket.

Cinderella is prevented from curtsying by the way the Prince presses her hand against his arm. She bows her head as best she’s able, heart thundering in her chest. Somehow looking at the Queen and King reminds her of the rainbows in the meadow. They swim in her vision as if obscured by power.

“Hold your head high,” the Prince whispers to her. His breath is hot against the shell of her ear and when she glances at him out of her peripherals, his eyes are warm. “You’re with me.”

Cinderella has never been with someone. She’s always been trailing behind, packages in hand, or at their knee with a hairbrush and sewing kit in hand. Even as a little girl she was never with her parents. She always felt like she was a step behind them, watching as the distance between them grew into an ocean.

She doesn’t feel like that now. The Prince’s arm is warm under her fingers and the gaze of so many people makes her face hot even if she knows the Prince’s magic protects her from being recognized. Cinderella has never felt so keenly in her own skin as she does in this moment.

Cinderella pulls her shoulders back and looks right over every noble to the blooming mosaic on the other side of the hall.

Well done, the voice in the back of her head purrs. There’s satisfaction curling in Cinderella’s stomach that feels foreign and heavy. She likes standing tall. She likes feeling bold and confident. Very well done.

“I know I promised you champagne,” the Prince says. He waves his hand and the music begins to play again. The nobles don’t resume their dance right away, their eyes fixed on the Prince’s every move. Expectant? Hopeful? Envious? The Prince only has eyes for her. “But I am jealous your first dance wasn’t with me.”

“Perhaps if someone had been on time it would have been,” Cinderella says. The Prince snorts and Cinderella’s smile widens. “Your highness.”

The Prince leads her onto the dance floor. The band is gently coming together again, string instruments rising underneath the lonely flute, the pianist adjusting on their bench in preparation. The nobles part for them like water, sliding back into their places without a word.

The Prince comes to a halt in the center of the dancefloor. If he notices the way the nobles stare, it doesn’t seem to bother him. He slides his arm out from under Cinderella’s hand, but doesn’t relinquish it. He kiss the back of her hand and asks, “May I have this dance?”

Cinderella must be beet red. She breathes in through her nose and smiles on the exhale. “Yes.” Then, because he is her friend, “You’ll be the first to have a dance from me, if that makes you feel better. The rest only shared one with me.”

Does the Prince’s gaze soften? Candlelight catches in his eyes, setting them ablaze. “Having or sharing, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “As long as it’s with you.”

Cinderella is speechless. The Prince takes the opportunity to sweep them into their first dance together, one hand on her hip, the other still holding her hand aloft. She’s not ready or at all prepared for it and has to rely on his grip for support when she stumbles.

“Where on earth did you learn to talk like that?” Cinderella hisses. She kicks at his shin and scoffs when he evades it easily. “Ugh.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s not how this dance goes,” the Prince says, tone mild. He’s smiling when she turns her glare on him. He whispers, “You’ll need to be faster if you want to kick me.”

Laughter bubbles in her chest. Cinderella fights it down. “You’d better show me how this dance works before I give into the temptation.”

“My pleasure.”

Dancing with the Prince is better than any of the other dances, though she doesn’t think she can bear to tell him that when he’s grinning like he knows it. He doesn’t guide her like Cy, her first masked partner, pulling and navigating her through the steps like a teacher might. He doesn’t make it a competition like Iz did, doesn’t change the rhythm whenever she manages to catch up to his pace. He isn’t considerate like Morrigan, waiting for her to catch her breath after a particularly tricky step.

Dancing with the Prince is like…it’s like being in the meadow. It’s like laying underneath the oak tree and watching the sun through the leaves, his gentle voice in her ear and the feeling of his magic chasing the chill away. It’s the feeling of being together where anything she says or does will be welcome or celebrated.

She doesn’t know when the other dancers join them, but she notices when the Prince nearly runs into a pair. She neatly takes the lead, spinning them to avoid a collision. The Prince startles and then scowls.

“I would have noticed,” he says. His gaze is dark on the dancing couple as if he’d like to curse them for the near accident.

“But you didn’t have to,” Cinderella says. Somehow she knows he isn’t that irritated. She thinks about spinning him but decides against it. She’s never tried spinning her partner before and is afraid of throwing him into the swirls of skirts and tailcoats that now surround them. She follows him away from the couple who nearly collided with them, surrendering the lead easily. “I did.”

“You did,” the Prince says, an inscrutable look on his face. It only lasts for a moment before he’s quirking an eyebrow at her. “Another song?”

Cinderella doesn’t feel tired at all. “Yes.”

They dance.

-----.

The night is a dream.

Cinderella holds onto it even after the Prince escorts her back to the Emerald Castle, after Helga pulls the pins from her hair, after she gulps down water and fruit before climbing into bed. They never did manage to have a glass of champagne. Cinderella can’t bring herself to regret the missed opportunity.

I’ll just have to try it tomorrow, Cinderella thinks with a thrill. Tomorrow. She’s going to the ball tomorrow.

She danced with the Prince all night. He delighted in each song with her, always keeping up with her mood and inviting her into faster steps or higher leaps. They talked and they laughed and, looking back, they must have seemed like children to everyone else. Cinderella felt like a child, free and excited in a way that she hasn’t been allowed to be in a long time.

She closes her eyes and can’t wait for the Prince to come pick her up for the ball tomorrow.

-----.

The carriage lurches and jumps as it transitions from the smooth Royal Road to the rougher cobblestones of the royal town. The silent occupants seem to wake up from their stupors all at once, the jostling as good as cold water on a dreamer.

“Mother,” Drizella whines. She doesn’t understand what went wrong. She did everything her mother said to do! She curled her hair and wore her lilac dress and didn’t dance with anyone other than the Prince. Except— “He only danced with her all night!”

“I have never been so embarrassed,” Anastasia says. She bites her thumb. Visions of the woman in green spin across the back of her eyelids every time she blinks. “We wore the same color! How dare she?!”

Baroness Ramsey doesn’t answer her daughters. She promised herself when she married the Baron that she would never allow anyone to guess at her non-noble past through her conduct. So she lets her face remain impassive and thinks carefully before she speaks.

Inside she is seething.

“That woman was in the wrong,” the Baroness says at last. She lays her hands daintily over her lap. “A ball like this – well. It’s for all noble ladies, isn’t it? The Prince was meant to dance with others. I’m sure the King and Queen will talk with him tonight. Tomorrow…”

She trails off. Her girls misunderstand as she meant them to. They perk up at the mention of tomorrow and the idea that the Prince will be different then. Anastasia begins debating what jewelry she will wear to compliment her gown tomorrow, going over the pros and cons of each one (“That woman wore gold tonight and won’t tomorrow, so the gold necklace might be the safest choice. But the prince wore silver tonight and might again and if I wear silver we could match.”) while Drizella pulls at her curls, lost in the daydream of what tomorrow could bring.

Inside the baroness is not so sure.

“A second invitation will be sent to those the Prince has taken an interest in. Expect news by dawn.”

They are not high nobility. It is only through the baroness’ hard work and clever deals that they’re nobility at all. Perhaps it would be different if her husband were better at networking like her, but he’s not (if he’s still alive at all) so they have no advantage through title alone. Their only advantage lies in her daughters’ beauty being recognized and – thanks to that woman – that didn’t happen.

Maybe I was hasty to leave Cinderella at home, the Baroness muses. Cinderella would have caught the Prince’s eye. There’s always been something…unsettlingly compelling about that girl. To be honest, the Baroness has always been a little afraid of Cinderella. Even as a child she always seemed to look through the Baroness rather than at her. With her golden hair and odd, light eyes, Cinderella would have been enough to compete with the woman who had captured the Prince’s attention. Then, when the second invitation arrived, the baroness could have kept Cinderella away to leave the real work to her girls.

She eyes her daughters. No. She could not have chosen any differently. It’s been hard work ensuring her daughters never grew afraid of their strange stepsister. Imagine if they were forced to watch the prince be bewitched by her? The baroness was right to leave Cinderella at home, dressed plainly, rather than allow her daughters to see through the soot and rough clothing to the strange, menacing woman beneath.

“We will stay up all night until the invitation arrives,” the Baroness announces. She won’t be able to sleep anyway. “I want each of you to go over every detail of tonight. Who did you notice? What could you have improved on? We will need to be even better tomorrow.”

Anastasia and Drizella complain, but the Baroness tunes them out. She knows what’s best for her daughters. If she says that they need to go over noble greeting they say, every pin, every broach, every conversation, they will.

It will come, she tells herself. The Prince may not have noticed her daughters, but the Queen was certainly interested in them. She seemed particularly interested in Drizella. Perhaps she will be the one to choose the prince’s bride. Yes, that must be it. She was too attentive to my daughters for that not to be the case.

The second invitation will come. The carriage squeaks to a halt outside of their inn and the baroness waits impatiently for the coachman to open the door. Yes, her earlier concerns were born from anxiety. Obviously the Prince won’t choose his own bride. Clearly! He’s a prince and princes must marry based on their parents’ wills. She, a baroness, wouldn’t allow her daughters to choose their husbands. Certainly the Queen, a fellow noble mother, feels much the same.

Cheered, the Baroness doesn’t yell for the coachman to hurry up helping her daughters down from the carriage. Anastasia does it instead and her Capital accent is even beginning to sound convincing! Drizella nearly falls when the coachman supports her step down too weakly, but her recovery is much quicker than it would have been two years ago.

Yes, the baroness must not lose herself to anxiety. She’s raised her daughters well and that will all pay off when she sees one of them married to the prince. Perhaps she should talk to the Queen herself tomorrow? Mother to mother?

Yes, that’s the best plan. She’ll leave her girls to the business of catching the eye of the prince. If they prove successful, wonderful. If not?

The Baroness hides her smile. There’s a reason she came to the ball despite the invitation not including mothers of the potential brides.

-----------.

Three important invitations are delivered at dawn.

One is snatched by the Baroness who breathes a sigh of relief that she must hide from her daughters.

The second is handed to Helga who rolls her eyes at the redundancy and promises to deliver it to her charge once she wakes.

The third is delivered via raven to a lone man on the road on horseback. He holds his arm above his head as soon as he recognized the purple ribbon tied around the bird’s neck, barely flinching when its talons cut through his thin, traveling shirt.

“A summons?” the man asks. The bird does not answer. It takes off as soon as he unties the message from its leg. He flips the letter over to examine the seal. His stomach lurches. “From the Queen?”

He can’t ignore a letter from the Queen. With a sigh, the man turns his horse gently before even breaking the seal. The Queen only accepts replies in person. A bitterness coats his tongue.

Another letter has brought him back to his ancestral home. A very important letter from someone he’s been forced to leave alone too long. And now, barely four days’ ride from the sender, he’s forced to ignore her once again.

I’m coming, Cinderella. Just a little longer.

Baron David Ramsey has been away from home for too long.

If you’d like to read more parts of Cinderella a week earlier, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! On top of posting all my stories a week earlier there, I also post Patreon Exclusives.

#Cinderella fan fiction #my writing #cinderella retelling #this is turning into a full novella #this is why i write short stories #BECAUSE BOOKS GET SO LONG #long post

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mellosdrawings · 2 months

Note

Sorry for the inconvenience but could you make a tutorial on how to draw Kalim please?

Alright, time for a Kalim tuto!

I'm gonna do a bit differently compared to the usual, because there is something interesting about Kalim and Jamil.

They are, quite literally, polar opposite even in design.

Long straight dark hair vs short fluffy white hair

Little dark eyes vs big soft eyes

Red and dark colors vs light and blueish colors

Fire motif vs water magic

Apart from the eyes, those are all things they have control over too. Things they can't decide for themselves (skin color, size) are similar, but things that partake in choices (hairstyles, colors) are completely opposite.

Think about it when you draw either of them. You might want to draw them with that opposition in mind.

I'm going to keep coming back to Jamil's design (since I draw him all the time he is my base reference when I draw Kalim. You can find Jamil's tuto HERE if you wanna compare)

0. Face's general shape

Not pictured here coz it's not as obvious seen facing, but I like to give Kalim a heart shaped face. High yet round cheeks and pointy chin. That's what gives him a cute side and makes him approachable (unlike Jamil who would be straighter and thinner).

1. Turban part 1

Unlike with other characters, we're gonna start with the main accessory here since it changes the shape of his hair. For that I suggest that you draw the ears first. His turban doesn't actually touch them, so place the vague shape slightly above it. Don't make it symmetrical, the left side should be higher than the left.

2. Turban part 2

Here you add the little left over from his turban. Make it go slightly further than the middle line to make it more natural. Once more, no symmetry. Keep the distinct left-right for Jamil, Kalim is more natural and imperfect.

3. Hair

Kalim has short fluffy hair coming from a point to the left. They all go toward the same direction. Keep your lines flowing, make soft waves. They tend to fork outwards at the end.

4. Turban part 3

I only close the turbans here, otherwise I tend to put the edges too close to his head. There is matter here between his hair and the actual turban, so keep it in mind. Don't draw the edges with straight lines. Remember: natural and imperfect. Add a little wave to make it look like a fold.

5. Bangs

Kalim's bangs can be separated in three parts, two framing his face and one at the center going right. His bangs are short. Just like for the top hair, keep it fluffy and cute.

6. Turban part 4, the bow

Yes, the turban is half of Kalim's design so we're still not done with it. Kalim has a cute bow to the side, so seen from the front you only see one loop and one end of the fabric. Make two vaguely squared shapes and add a little curve at the bottom of the upper square to shape the loop of the bow.

7. Feathers

We're almost done with the turban! Where Jamil had on feather to the right of his face, Kalim has two. They come almost from the ear, behind the bow, and reach slightly lower than his chin. Try not to draw them completely parallel (natural and imperfect!)

8. Eyes

Once more going to reference Jamil, but they actually have the same eye shape, with round lower lids and straighter high lids. The difference is that Jamil has lazy eyes (meaning his eyes aren't opened fully) while Kalim's eyes are more open. It gives him bigger, softer eyes.

The pupils are also huge, once more in complete opposition to Jamil's little pupils.

As for the eyebrows, Kalim's are very short but a bit wide. Make it about the side of his pupils, lower inside and higher outside.

9. Earrings

His earrings are 6 shaped with three chains falling from it. They're actually pretty long, going down to his chin. You can keep it simple.

10. Finish the face

Make him smile. Seriously, Kalim is smiling more often than he is not (while Jamil is scowling more than he is not). I make his smile all round, once more to accentuate the cute side. Most everything is round in Kalim's design, so don't hesitate to lean toward it. (Remember, he's based on the Sultan, a character whose character design can be surmised in one word: round)

Once more not visible from the front, but I give him a hooked nose just like Jamil.

11. Correct details and finish

Kalim doesn't have much hair at the neck but I give him a few strands just to finish framing his face. Add flourishes to the turban. You're done!

#just so you know I'm obsessed with Jamil and Kalim's opposite chara designs #i've spent too much time studying them #mello's drawings #twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #jamil viper #art #my art #ask me anything #analysis #art tips #step by step

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quack-quack-snacks · 10 months

Text

Star Crossed - Chapter 2

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Zombies, gore, normal AOUAD things Word Count: 6,347

As you leaned your head back against the tree trunk, the rhythmic beat of your favorite song playing through your ears and the rest of the world canceled out, you didn’t notice the horde getting closer.

Su-hyeok was running down the hall after searching practically the entire school and still not finding you. Telling his friends he was going to go play basketball to spare himself some time to find and talk to you seemed like a good idea when the world wasn’t ending but now he was just even more lost with what he should do.

There was no way he wasn’t going to keep looking for you. No. He would rather die than leave you all alone in a zombie fucking apocalypse. Knowing you and how you shared a habit of listening to your music too loud at all times with Nam-ra, you wouldn’t hear the screams even if they were right next to your ears.

He was going to find you and keep you safe if it’s the last thing he did.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today; first, Hyeon-ju had been kidnapped by the science teacher and passed out in the middle of class; second, On-jo confesses to him on the stairway; then, he finds out his classmates have turned into blood thirsty, flesh eating monsters and he can’t seem to find you no matter where he looks.

So much for confessing on her birthday.

He had been planning the day for months.

He was going to take you to the roof - which he’d gained access to earlier that morning to put a set of picnic required items in a cooler - then he would stop you at the door after class and ask you to have lunch with him - just the two of you - which he was sure even if you were hesitant about he would be able to convince you that he didn’t care about how others saw him and you would give in.

After that, he would cover your eyes and walk you up the stairs, you would laugh that soft laugh of yours when he would purposely walk you in zig-zags and do 180s just for more time with you.

Then, he would finally lead you up to the roof where a bouquet of flowers would be resting against the wall in the corner. The two of you would eat and drink the foods he provided and he would ask you to skip the rest of the day with him to just sit on the roof and talk with each other. You would say yes, you could never say no to him and hating school was just a way to guarantee his win.

After a while, he would confess.

He would’ve already handed you the bouquet so instead he would give you your birthday present. It was a simple small heart shaped locket that he had put some dried, flattened flowers into; small ones so they could still be visible and not need to be squished down even more. The other side of the locket would be empty, if/when you accepted his confession, he was hoping you two would fill it with a photo of the two of you.

The present came with a card but he would’ve told you to open the present first. After you opened it and he placed it around your neck, his fingers lightly skimming your neck as he clicked the latch in place, he would tell you to open the card.

He drew the card himself, it was a photo of you holding a flower with the locket around your neck and a soft smile on your face. The inside was decorated with drawings of flowers that surrounded the neat handwriting which displayed his feelings like lyrics of a love song.

Just as you’d start to read it, he would start saying each word he’d written down, spending countless hours practicing the exact words he had written down in front of the mirror. In his head he would say it perfectly with no stutters or awkward pauses where he would have to try and remember the words but he was sure he would mess up in some way. You had that effect on him. You made him nervous and confident. You made him excited and calm. You made him laugh and cry.

God, he was so in love with you.

And now I might never get to tell her that.

He almost physically slapped himself at the thought, not being able to even think about the possibility of you not surviving.

He had one more stop where he thought to go, and that was the cherry blossom tree in the garden. It was where the two of you would meet for lunch on the days where he could convince you to hang out with him during school hours.

It recently became a more popular place to go since it was the time of the year where the leaves fell and cherry blossom flowers and petals littered the ground to show a beautiful yet tragic sight. Ever since more people showed up, you’d told him you shouldn’t meet there anymore. He’d felt devastated when you told him that. He was sure you’d meant you never wanted to hang out with him again until you clarified that the two of you would just have to find another secret space where you could share your private lunch times.

Finally arriving and just barely missing a zombie that was running full speed toward him through a hallway that ran perpendicular to his. Luckily for him, although it made him feel sick to his stomach, the zombie with which he’d just escaped had found another target and was running toward it, completely forgetting Su-hyeok’s existence. As he exited the school doors and went into the garden area, he saw you sitting with your head lightly bobbing and gently hitting itself against the trunk of the tree you were resting against. Your headphones were in just as he’d predicted them to be and if he weren’t in a life or death situation, he would’ve wanted to stay right there and watch you for hours.

The sun shone through the leaves of the tree above you beautifully and landed on your cheeks and made you look heavenly. Your body was dressed in your normal uniform but somehow you made it look like it was being worn by a model down a runway.

He ran toward you and grabbed your hand, quickly pulling you up despite the way you flinched and smacked his arm in fright. He started running down the opposite way he came from, this time with you in tow and him grabbing onto your hand tightly, afraid if he let go he would lose you forever. Running through the halls, the two of you arrived at the glass bridge that connected the two buildings of the school. As you ran down, you passed Nam-ra who was also unaware of the situation going on around her because of her headphones. Yanking yourself free from Su-hyeok’s grip, you ran back to grab onto her hand and pull her with you before you reconnected yours and Su-hyeok’s hands as the three of you ran.

After seeing how the school’s gardener, who’d been trimming the bushes before shit went down, fell off his ladder and onto his garden shears before being pounced on by zombies, you noticed an opportunity with the ladder. Releasing the hands of both people who protested worriedly at the loss of contact, you rushed over to grab the ladder and prop it up against the wall so the three of you could climb it into what you knew was your homeroom class. At the beginning of the year you’d placed some small stickers in the corner and they’d been there ever since. Grabbing onto the ladder, you motioned for Su-hyeok to climb up it which he started to protest to until you grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to start climbing the first couple of steps, you did the same with Nam-ra who held a look of protest on her face but did not physically or verbally state it. After both of your friends had started climbing the ladder and Su-hyeok had managed to get the window open, you started climbing yourself until you felt a grip hold onto your shoe, trying to pull you back.

You turned back to see it was the gardener who’d only been killed a minute or two ago. It made your eyes widen before you used the ladder as support behind you and kicked him in the chest using your other foot. Once he’d fallen back, you wasted no time in climbing up the ladder, especially at your friends’ panicked yells of your name. As you reached the last few steps of the ladder and Su-hyeok grabbed onto your hands, you suddenly felt the stability of the ladder beneath you falling. Using the last bit of ground, you launched yourself into the air and grabbed ahold of the edge of the window with all your might. Su-hyeok and Nam-ra rushed to pull you in.

Once you’d made it safely inside and landed on your feet, Su-hyeok started frantically searching your body for any wounds, bite or not. After satisfying himself that you only had a few bruises that looked a couple days old, he pulled you into a tight hug with his head buried into the top of your head.

“This is why I always tell you to lower your music, dumbass,” he breathed in a whisper only meant for you while he held your shaking body. For the first few minutes of running, you didn’t even know why you were running until you finally took you headphones off and looked behind you and saw the two of you being chased by students with blood running down their chins while others were eating the flesh off the bones of other students who were screaming bloody murder.

It was quite a shock.

“Yeah. Like you would have predicted this. Mr. Big Psychic Guy,” you sarcastically retorted but your voice shook and he hugged you harder.

“It’s just like Train to Busan,” Cheong-san said as he looked at his friend holding you with mixed emotions. He wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing his best friend hugging the school bully’s little sister yet.

“Holy shit,” Dae-su exclaimed as he dropped to the floor while wiping the rest of his face from the fire extinguisher’s foam.

After a while when you’d calmed down a bit and gave an appreciative smile to Su-hyeok, you noticed the group searching around for a phone.

“See if it’s there,” Wu-jin told Joon-hyeong while they searched through people’s backpacks.

“It’s not here either,” Joon-yeong groaned.

As they started talking about how the zombies weren’t able to open doors, you started walking over to your own bag before Nam-ra tugged on your sleeve. Turning around, you gave her a smile and pulled her into a hug. The other kids were too worried with their own problems and searches to notice but Su-hyeok did and he smiled before going to look for a phone with the others.

After releasing Nam-ra, you placed your hands on her upper arms and gave a comforting squeeze before going over to your own bag. Pulling out your phone, you hesitated before speaking up.

“Uh… guys,” everyone looked up at you as soon as you spoke and you held your phone up for them to see. “Here.”

Cheong-san slowly came up to you and grabbed the phone from your extended hand with a slight nod of appreciation. The phone was already unlocked when he grabbed it and he immediately went to the call app to call 112.

Cheong-san brought the phone up to his head as he called.

“Hello? This is Hyosan High School! A ton of zombies showed up at lunch, and they’re eating people.”

You slapped your head in annoyance. “Idiot, they won’t believe you if you say zombies,” you whispered to him.

“Then what?” He questioned in an annoyed voice.

“They won’t believe you!” On-jo told him and slapped his arm lightly.

“Did you happen to see the movie Train to Busan?” He asked the dispatcher and you just groaned and walked away.

Going over to sit on your desk, Su-hyeok came over to sit on Nam-ra’s which was beside you. Right as he was about to speak, all of the zombies started running in one direction.

“What?”

“Where are they going?”

“Why are they leaving?”

Everyone started speaking at once.

“They probably heard or saw someone,” you said quietly and reached into your bag to grab the pocket knife Gwi-nam gave you to put on your keychain.

“Better to always have one just in case of emergency. Just don’t get caught with it.” He’d told you as he gave you the knife along with a pepper spray that was your favorite color.

You’d kept them in your bag ever since.

Gyeong-su opened the door to look outside and Su-hyeok ran over to yank him back inside.

“What are you doing, moron? Close it!” He exclaimed and the boy complied immediately.

“Okay, fine. You scared me!” Su-hyeok slapped his back a few times to reassure himself and Gyeong-su that they were both fine.

On-jo walked over to Cheong-san with a desperate look on her face and she held her own hands to stop them from shaking. “And the police?”

Cheong-san hesitated before repeating back what the dispatcher told him. “He said they’ll come,” he sounded unsure.

“Did they believe you?” Gyeong-su asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice but you could tell it wasn’t aimed at Cheong-san. “What if they think it's a prank and decide not to come?”

“Well, then try again!” Na-yeon stood up abruptly and yelled. “And tell them to hurry up!” She yelled.

“Na-yeon,” you said in a monotone voice from your spot still sitting on your desk. She turned around to look at you and froze when she saw your blank stare. “Shut up, you’ll attract the zombies.”

Nobody could blame her for her reaction, you looked very intimidating. You were sitting on the table with your elbows supporting your body on your knees while you flicked your knife open and closed. She gulped then nodded and stopped talking. On-jo grabbed the phone from Cheong-san and called 112 again, this time with a different strategy.

“Hi. Hello, sir. Do you know Captain Nam So-ju from Rescue Team One?” She tried. You knew her father was a firefighter, having heard her talk about him as well as seen him pick her up from school in his uniform a few times.

There was a pause as the dispatcher talked on the other end of the line. The voice could be heard from him but it was too quiet to understand. “Captain Nam So-ju is my father. Please tell him to hurry over to my school.”

Su-hyeok and Gyeong-su both turned around when they heard her talking. “Who is she calling?” You could hear Gyeong-su ask but Su-hyeok just shrugged his shoulders.

“There's a fire.”

At that, everyone’s attention focused on On-jo and what she was saying.

“Hyosan High School, classroom 2-5. Hurry up. The fire is massive.”

With that, the call ended and she turned back to the rest of you. Cheong-san walked over to stand next to her and look out the window to the field where hundreds of students wandered, their souls now gone and replaced with emotionless, hungry beasts.

“No one’s coming?” Su-hyeok asked as he came up behind him. You decided you couldn’t just sit around anymore and you stood up to stand on the other side of Su-hyeok and look out the window.

As Cheong-san stayed silent, you noticed something over at the gate. It looked like a bus.

“Is that a bus?”

“I think something’s happening at the gate.”

You and Cheong-san spoke out at the same time.

Na-yeon, who had been having a panic attack and had her head in her hands for the past few minutes, stood up. “Let’s call the cops again. Get them to listen.”

On-jo looked at her with a worried expression. “I am, but they won’t pick up.”

Na-yeon breathed heavily and for a second you felt bad, feeling the need to comfort her, until she walked up to where Nam-ra was sitting with a face that arrogantly showed her blaming the situation on her.

“Hey,” she started but Nam-ra showed no reaction. “Do something. Tell Ms. Park to come and help.” Nam-ra still showed no reaction. “Do something!”

“Do what exactly?” Su-hyeok asked, absolutely done with her bullshit and how she seemed to place the blame on everyone around her.

“I don’t know. Anything!” She said desperately, her voice rising before she remembered your words and shot you an almost apologetic glance. She looked back at the girl who was still sitting, staying silent and listening to how she was being berated. “What have you done as class president?”

Min-ji grabbed onto her arm from behind her. “Stop it,” she pleaded but Na-yeon just yanked her arm away from her grip.

Nam-ra stood up and walked so she was standing directly in front of Na-yeon.

“Teacher’s office?” She asked with a hint of a mocking tone in her voice. “So you just want me to leave now?”

There was a moment of silence as the two girls glared at each other. “Well, if you’re offering.” Na-yeon said and you took a step forward before Su-hyeok placed his arm in front of you to stop you from going any further. He gave you a look and you knew almost exactly what he was saying.

Nam-ra can hold her own, she’s strong.

“You told me to do something,” Nam-ra started again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Stop it, you two!” On-jo begged from her place in front of the window. You could see how she tried to slowly inch away from you ever so often and you just dug your nails into your palms to stop the hurt from building.

You liked On-jo. You really did. She seemed like such a good friend who, if you could get to know her and she could get to know you, the two of you would be good friends.

“She’s only saying that because you’re class president,” On-jo tried to defend Na-yeon’s words even though she didn’t really deserve it.

“Yeah. You are, right?” Dae-su asked and you just rolled your eyes as everyone started to know her as the class president and ask for her help only when the world was ending.

“So just be patient, okay?” Wu-jin jumped in and told her. Nam-ra looked over at the two of them and Wu-jin comically grabbed Dae-su’s chin and forced him to look the other way while he also did.

“So stupid,” she said, shaking her head slightly in annoyance. She shot you a look and saw you were feeling the exact same thing. Although she wouldn’t say it out loud, she was happy she had at least one person who seemed to be on her side. “Typical.”

“What’s typical?” On-jo asked and Nam-ra turned around to look at her, a sarcastic smile gracing her lips.

“Now that we are in this mess, I’m your class president?” She berated.

On-jo looked guilty at her words but she held eye-contact.

Trying to cut the tension, Su-hyeok started to mediate the situation. “We called the police, so I’m sure we’ll be fine soon.”

Na-yeon whined and jumped up and down a bit like a toddler not getting her way. “But no one’s coming!”

“Enough already. We’re all scared too!” Ji-min exclaimed, getting up from her seat and only just being stopped by Hyo-ryung and Min-ji.

“That’s why I’m telling them to call!” Na-yeon screamed back at her.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” Ji-min challenged.

“Ladies, ladies, can you just stop the whining?” Gyeong-su let out exasperatedly from his spot blocking the door. You rolled your eyes at the tone of his voice but decided not to say anything.

“Oh, now you’re butting in, shithead?” Na-yeon turned around to face him.

Okay, nevermind I’m not staying out of it.

You walked over to the two of them as Gyeong-su walked away from the door to stand in front of Na-yeon.

“What? Did you just call me a shithead? Call me a shitheaed, you shithead,” he exclaimed and Wu-jin along with Dae-su ran over to hold him back from starting a fight while Min-ji wrapped her arms around Na-yeon to do the same.

The boys holding onto Gyeong-su just told him to let it go and not listen to her while you stood a few feet away, waiting for the situation to go from bad to worse.

Su-hyeok pointed at the door while telling Gyeong-su to go back. “Hold the door. I said hold the door.”

Seeing the boys not moving, you decided to go over yourself and to hold the door when a familiar face came rushing in before closing the door behind him.

“Coach Kang,” you said.

The man’s eyes scanned the room with a suspicious look before he asked, “Are you guys okay?” A few of the students nod but most just stayed still. Kang let out a deep breath of relief before Gyeong-su ran up to him.

“What about you? You weren’t bitten?”

“No. Of course not. I’m- I’m all right,” there was something about the way he hesitated when saying he was fine that made you stand on guard and put your hand into your pocket where you stored your knife. “Hey, guys. Let’s block the door first.”

All of the students started helping push the desks in front of the door but you just stood back as you watched Kang and the way he moved, there was a slight stutter in his steps, like he was struggling for control over his body.

You started to think you were being paranoid until suddenly you heard I-sak say something to On-jo.

“On-jo, look,” she said and pointed to Coach Kang.

“What?” On-jo asked, still confused on what her friend was telling her.

“There. His arm.” She pointed right at a bite that was on his right arm and On-jo gasped.

“Coach Kang,” On-jo spoke softly. “Your arm.”

The coach just looked at them irritated. “What are you doing? Come help us!”

Knowing On-jo would have trouble with standing up against a teacher, you took the initiative to tell the others.

“Coach Kang, you have a bite on your arm!” You walked in front of the two girls and pushed them behind you while firmly gripping your knife in your pocket.

Everyone else backed away from the man as he stared at his own bite mark in shock.

“He said he wasn’t bitten,” Gyeong-su said in slight denial.

“No, no I, I wasn’t bitten,” he tried desperately to cover his arm where the bite mark was in an attempt to make it seem as if it wasn’t there. As if, if you couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist.

“It’s a bite mark,” On-jo told him.

“I said it isn’t. Don’t talk back to me. Okay?” He exclaimed, getting angrier by the second and you gently pushed the girls even further behind you.

“It looks like you were really bitten,” I-sak spoke up from behind you and you could hear the slight tremor in her voice.

“I wasn’t! How many times must I tell you?” Coach Kang yelled at her and took a step forward so you also took a step forward.

“You should go,” You told him in an strangely calm voice considering the situation.

“Then why the hell are you hiding it? Just show it to us!” I-sak spoke up again and Kang tried to step around you but you just pushed him back by his shoulders and he stumbled for a second before regaining his balance.

“Why… you little bitch. How dare you disrespect me!”

I-sak took a step forward and grabbed your arm to pull you back a bit. Her voice got more quiet as she spoke again. “I think you should leave right now.”

“What?”

“Get out of here immediately.”

“You want me to go out there?” He pointed toward the door where a few zombies walked past the window. “After all I did to get here? You want me to go back out?”

“You were bitten,” she said while breathing heavily in fear. “Come on, get out.” There was a moment of silence before she yelled, “I said get out now!”

“Cocksucker! How dare you yell at me like that?” He stared at her as he spoke and his face continuously got sweatier as the seconds passed. As he took a step forward, On-jo pulled I-sak back as you took a step forward to protect them. You were unknowing to the faces of the girls behind you as you were too busy protecting them but they were shocked. They thought you would be more like your brother who would only care about his own safety - along with yours, everyone knew how overprotective he was of you - but here you were, protecting them with your life. Coach Kang looked at you with annoyance but focused his attention on I-sak.

“You little… Get over here. Come here,” He seemed to be getting angrier and everyone was on edge. “Now!” I-sak continued to remain still. “You won’t come? Hey.” He started advancing forward and Su-hyeok rushed forward to push you back as Dae-su went to push Kang back but was held back by Wu-jin.

“Get the fuck back,” you yelled at him as he tried to get around you and Su-hyeok tried to pull you back.

“You know, you have been getting on my nerves. How dare you not listen to me. I am your teacher and I demand respect!” He yelled at you.

“Respect is earned motherfucker. I won’t respect you until you show me you deserve it,” you told him and he looked positively fuming.

“You will respect me!” He took a step forward as you were yanked back by Su-hyeok who was pulled back by On-jo who looked at the two of you with a weird gleam in her eyes. Suddenly, his nose started bleeding and he turned away as he wiped it away.

Before you could stop her, On-jo ran from behind you and hit the man over the head with a backpack.

He turned around with a silent anger. Cheong-san pulled On-jo behind him as Kang started walking toward her. “You fucking bitch,” he spoke, raising his hand like he was going to slap her before falling flat on his face.

“I think he really was bitten,” Gyeong-su said stupidly and you just looked at him with an exasperated look. “Guys, we should get out of here as soon as possible.”

Kang twitched on the ground and you tried to pull away from Su-hyeok to go toward him and prepare to stab him but Su-hyeok wrapped his arms around your waist and shoulders and you couldn’t move no matter how you squirmed.

“Hey. Hey! He’s turning!”

The coach’s bones cracked and crunched as he rolled around on the floor and turned from one type of monster to another.

“Get him out of here! Hurry!” Na-yeon yelled as she shut her eyes closed tightly and covered her ears. For once you agreed with her and couldn’t find it in you to tell her to shut up. “Hurry! Throw him out!”

The coach had finally fully turned and started crawling toward Min-ji before standing up and lunging at her completely, latching his teeth onto her cheek and not letting go until he was pulled off by Dae-su who tried desperately to save his friend as she screamed in agony.

Dae-su threw Kang into the drawers on the wall of the class room and he rolled around while readjusting his bones.

Still struggling against Su-hyeok’s grip, you started thrashing around but he held strong.

“Dae-su… I can’t…” Min-ji started and you felt tears well up in your eyes as you thrashed harder. You never really knew the girl but she didn’t deserve this, that’s for sure. “I don’t want to die…”

The zombified coach stood up and Su-hyeok gently tossed you to the side as he lunged straight for the two of you. He swiftly dodged the attacks of the man as everyone screamed. Disorientated from the lack of hold of his arms, it took you a minute to regain your balance and try to help the best you can and yet before you could Su-hyeok was holding you back again. Cheong-san quickly picked up a desk and used it to slam Kang into the wall, gathering the help of Gyeong-su who helped hold him there.

As Min-ji kept begging for help, Na-yeon scurried to the pile of desks and chairs and started pulling them away from the door so she could get out.

For once, not a bad idea.

You were worried when you saw Min-ji get up to walk after her and gasped when Na-yeon kicked her back so she fell to the floor. There, she started having the same experience as the previous person on the floor as her nose started bleeding and her bones started to crack. Her eyese went red as she reached for Dae-su before she fell to the ground. She suddenly jumped up and lunged at Dae-su but was apprehended quickly by him as he begged her to stop, nearly crying at the loss of his friend.

“We gotta go,” Su-hyeok exclaimed as he continued to hold you back. You’d started hitting him and only were released when you kicked his shin a little too hard and he fell to the floor for a moment. You ran over to where Cheong-san and Gyeong-su were holding the zombified Coach Kang and helped push the desk into him while hurriedly reaching into your pocket.

Everyone started chasing after Na-yeon who had gotten the door opened and was running out. On-jo, Su-hyeok, and the three of you pushing the table into the man against the wall were the last ones in the classroom and you exclaimed a small noise of victory as you’d finally gotten the knife out of your pocket and opened it.

Curse you Gwi-nam, why’d you have to give me a complicated one?

Stabbing the knife into the head of the coach, he dropped dead but before you could indulge in your victory you were getting pulled out of the classroom, you knife forgotten behind in the skull of your previous P.E. teacher.

Su-hyeok shut the doors behind him and the group moved together down the hall toward the stairs until everyone stopped and you ran into Cheong-san’s back. Before you could even realise what was going on, Su-hyeok ran up to the front and did a flying kick into one of the zombies. Not allowing yourself to be useless and let a man of all people show you up, you ran up to the front as well and threw, kicked, and punched the zombies as much as you could, keeping them away from the group while simultaneously making sure you yourself were safe. You allowed yourself to check on Su-hyeok every other second to make sure he was also okay until a zombie somehow had gotten past the two of you and started sprinting towards the group. Running as fast as you could, you tackled the zombie right before it was able to get to Na-yeon who had been crawling backwards after falling to the ground when the zombies first arrived. Another zombie ran toward you and you had to fend off the two of them by yourself, unable to gain assistance from Su-hyeok who was also in a sticky predicament himself.

“Well shit. I never thought I would die from a zombie apocalypse but I guess here we are,” you thought to yourself as you felt your arms get tired and the mouth of the zombie who was on top of you get closer to your arm.

Suddenly, the zombie was struck by something hard in the head and then smacked again so it fell to the floor. You looked up to see Cheong-san was the one who saved you and Gyeong-su ran up to Su-hyeok with a window - the same weapon you now knew Cheong-san used - to help him out. The ones holding the windows ran toward the small herd of zombies and used them as a barricade to hold them off while Dae-su had grabbed a whole classroom door.

“Hey! Get out of the way!” He screamed at the boys and started running toward the herd, swinging the door horizontally and using it as a larger barricade.

Running toward the boys, you slammed into the door as well to push and help them move the zombies backward. The girls looked slightly ashamed that they hesitated to follow after your example.

Turning the corner, the zombies were stuck at the top of the stairs of the floor you were on.

“Girls, upstairs!” Wu-jin screamed at you all and you just rolled your eyes as you forcefully grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him toward the stairs.

“You first, dumbass!” You retaliated and he wasn’t sure what to say. The rest of the girls sprinted up the stairs as you pushed as hard as you could and were able to successfully knock all the zombies down the small flight of stairs before grabbing two random hands and dragging them toward the stairs as you forced them to go up. Making sure everyone was able to go up the stairs, you almost groaned in annoyance as you saw Su-hyeok, once again, practically sacrificing himself and kicking the zombies. As he fell over, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up before sprinting up the stairs before the zombies could regain control. You couldn’t see it with your eyes focused on the stairs in front of you and how you avoided the miscellaneous zombies as you dragged Su-hyeok behind you, but he was watching you in awe as he had never fully realized the full capacity of your strength.

As you were right behind Wu-jin who had stopped to push back a few zombies with the window piece he had, he got pushed toward the stairs as you started fighting the zombies expertly, avoiding their mouths while keeping the upper hand. Su-hyeok ignored the way you’d yelled at him to follow the others and started helping you kick the zombies back down before grabbing your arm to pull you up the stairs.

As a zombie launched itself at you while you climbed, it attached itself to your foot and you fell over, just barely being able to kick its face away from your ankle where it was aiming to bite you. Cheong-san had seen how you were down and how Su-hyeok had fallen with you.

“Su-hyeok!” He screamed in concern.

Said boy looked up at him before looking back at you and how you kicked the beast away. “Go to the science lab! Now!” He yelled back at him and Cheong-san hesitated before complying. Su-hyeok pulled you up and kicked another zombie away from the two of you before it breached the area where you considered yourself to be relatively safe. The two of you ran hand in hand up the stairs where you saw Su-hyeok’s friends being cornered between two hoardes of zombies. Before you could think to help in anyway, you were tackled from behind, your grip on Su-hyeok’s hands being pulled harshly away.

Su-hyeok’s eyes widened exponentially when he saw how you got attacked and was able to use his quick thinking to pull the monster off just before its teeth could latch onto your neck. Now only worried about your safety as he saw the group run into a classroom that the outside was still covered by zombies with, he grabbed your hand once more, pulling you up and silently apologizing when he heard you wince before pulling you into a room a few doors down from the science room.

The art room.

Ducking down before the zombies in the room could see you and both of you covering your mouths with your hands to quiet your panting, you ducked behind some very well placed desks and filing cabinets on wheels.

After a while of just sitting down and your breathing calming down, Su-hyeok pointed over to where the windows were. You shot him a hesitant glance but knew it was the both of your guys best shots at surviving and making it out of this blood stained room.

Just as Su-hyeok started to move, the speakers started squealing and you both covered your ears from how loud it was. Suddenly, the familiar voice of your teacher Ms. Park filled the classroom as well as the halls.

“Students and teachers of Hyosan High School. I'm Park Sun-hwa, the English teacher. Something strange is happening throughout the school. Some students are attacking others indiscriminately, so please flee and find a safe place. If any student or faculty hears this and is able to, please call the police and the fire department. Students, hide somewhere safe until help arrives. If you can get out of the school, please get out,” her voice started to shake and you felt horrible. This must be terrible for her too. “I'll say it again. Some students are…” She let out a few shaky breaths and Su-hyeok grabbed your hand with a firm but gentle grip, squeezing slightly to reassure you.

“Hey, everyone…” She started again, her voice becoming less professional and now more caring and loving like the teacher you’d come to know. “You're okay, right? You're not hurt? I don't know what's going on in here or how this whole thing happened, but... Still, find a safe place and hide. I… I'm sorry… I can't help.” She started sobbing and despite keeping your face emotionless you could feel a single tear fall down your cheek. “Don't get hurt, okay? Please, let's stay alive and meet again. Okay?”

Let’s meet again.

~~~

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

#all of us are dead #aouad #cheong-san #dae-su #gyeong-su #nam-ra #on-jo #x reader #su hyeok x y/n #canon gwi nam would be such a shit brother

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tozettastone · 7 months

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@waffliesinyoface okay, let's go! (I agree on Itachi's sweet tooth honestly.)

Itachi — He likes sweet food. He'll order something you didn't even know was real, like a lavender latte, or a smoked salted vanilla frappe. "Does your drink even have coffee in it?" you may ask, dubiously eyeing what appears to be cup of lightly flavoured simple syrup piled high with freshly whipped cream. Yes, yes it does. Itachi is the tiredest person on this team, and that's including the guy who is just 6 dead bodies in a trench coat. Do not order him decaf.

Kisame — He's pretty easygoing. He'll take whatever, and then while the barista is making it he'll tell them that sharks can have milk because some of them don't have umbilical cords. He consumed the milk shed from his mother's uterus lining, like a great white, after eating his siblings. How fun. Sir, here's your coffee.

Kakuzu — Kakuzu is a pile of stolen hearts and tentacles condensed into roughly human shape. He can't taste the coffee, but his hearts respond to the caffeine. He will have whatever option comes with unlimited refills.

Hidan — Orders something new every time and hates it every time. He doesn't like bitter flavours. He has not yet made the connection between "coffee" and "bitter notes" in the formal way that would permit him to stop trying it. He complains about the taste every time. Bonus: caffeine only affects him for about 2.5 minutes.

Konan — Konan never had coffee growing up (she didn't have a lot of things growing up!) so now it's kind of a novelty. She's mostly a tea drinker but when she has coffee she takes whatever variation of 1 part coffee and 2 parts milk is easiest. She's not a connoisseur of latte foam vs cappuccino froth, etc., etc. She likes to watch the rain fall, dry and cosy in her oversized coat, while her coffee steams gently into the humid air over the village.

Pein — Nagato doesn't like to put extra fluids into his bodies because they're dead and if you alter the water content on the inside it can be very hard to maintain them in the state of preservation he prefers. He watches Konan drink, though.

Sasori — Sasori is an arty bitch, but not a "with lavender smoked honey," kind of wanky art bitch. He's a traditionalist. Espresso. With sparkling water. The tinier the demitasse, the better.

Deidara — Deidara wants a fancy sweet little treat but he's still young enough to get mad that he doesn't drink serious grown up drinks. He'll order something black and bitter and then sulk about it. What he really wants is exactly the kind of fancy and ridiculous coffee drink Itachi orders, but he's already set himself against this and mocked Itachi about it. Watch him toss back his coffee and slam the empty cup onto the table like he's doing shots of bad tequila.

Zetsu — A cafe macchiato. This is a trap because a "spotted," coffee is either all milk spotted with a bit of coffee (which is what the writer understands to be common in America) or all coffee spotted with a dab of milk (common in other parts of the world). Either way, when you serve it to him, the order will be wrong according to at least one side of his body. ;—;

Tobi — Drinks his coffee mixed 1:1 with sweetened condensed milk. Is the sweet tooth genetic?

(Honorary) Orochimaru — Orochimaru is also a pretentious arty bitch, but in his case, his order isn't intended to communicate artsy-ness about himself to the outside observer. It's instead carefully calculated to communicate that he's a snob and to stress out the barista tasked with making it for him. He wants your single origin in a double ristretto with a 3/4 cup of silky milk. If you make a latte and just don't fill it up all the way, he will know. No, really. He'll know.

#akatsuki #akatsuki ranked #sort of

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 7 months

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mentor!Kishibe

mentor!Kishibe is very aware of your secret attraction towards him. Has to use every ounce of his will to convince himself that its onesided, just a young woman with a crush. But he'd have to be blind not to notice the subtle shift from the student/teacher vibe between y'all two when you finally complete his extensive training. It's been 3 years. Granted he deemed you at peak less than a year in, and now he had nothing left to teach you. Knows it's already incredibly suspicious and selfish keepin you from your aspirations this long. Still.. "Sure you don't wanna go private?" Kishibe takes a swig from his flask, tired eyes trained on the newest addition to the eerily desolate cemetery. "Tsk. Don't ask somethin you have no intention of doin yourself. Real funny way of askin me to stay.." You get no reply. The tense silence stretches on, so many words on the tip of his tongue. He eventually settles with a dry "Then congratulations, kid: It's graduation day." You frown, dreading this moment almost as much as the thought of never finding the gun devil. Feels just as despairing as you thought it would. Staring at the side of his handsome downcast face, admiring the crinkle round his eye. "Will you miss me?" Kishibe solemn eyes finally meets your imploring gaze, not needing even a second to think about your question. Uses the back of his hand to gently sweep your braids off your shoulder as he offers you a small forced smile. "Course, sweetheart. You already know.." Your heart skips a beat to the simple touch and new pet name. Know what? But then Kishibe's droppin his hand. Turns on his heel, stridin to the exit without another word. "Goodbye.." The strong gusts of wind the only witness to your anguished whisper.

mentor!Kishibe makes it a point to keep his distance from you. Even with workin in the same sector, its a whole year before you see him again. Makima finally wore em down into comin out to eat with a few fellow hunters. "Two minutes. Then we're done here." She only smiles at him, watchin as he sits stiff refusing to touch his plate of food. Kishibe ignores the flow of conversation, his mind wondering what you were up to for the evening. Imagine his surprise when he sees your pretty ass walk through the door, his insides twisting and knotting at the sight of you. Uniform pants huggin your shapely frame; white shirts sleeves rolled up to the elbows, first couple buttons undone and givin him the tiniest peak at your mouth watering cleavage. So fuckin gorgeous to Kishibe. Almost exactly how he'd last seen you. Your face is different thought.. Just as beautiful but he knows that gaunt look only too well. Your hairs changed too, now in y/h/c wavy layered tresses down your back. There's nothing on planet earth that can get either of you to unlock eyes as you freeze on the spot. You weren't sure when you'd see him again; if his petty ass would continue to dodge you till the end of time. But inna instant, it's like just the two of you exist. Nothing else in the world matters but how much you want and miss him.. Till you remember the cruel and sudden way he chose to snatch himself from your life, leaving you heartbroken. And more lonely than necessary, especially considering the profession. The thought has you spinnin on the spot and storming from the restaurant. Makima digs her elbow into Kishibe's side. "I'm not saying fall in love. But find a piece of happiness for yourself, even if you believe it to be fleeting." He doesn't say a word. Knows right away her sneaky ass had somethin to do with this crap. Puttin on his shoes and coat, he heads out. Doesnt grace a single soul at the the table with a goodbye, leaving for home with a scowl and a dark cloud over his head. Kishibe knew comin to this shit show was a fuckin mistake.

mentor!Kishibe is so fuckin stubborn that he goes another 6 months without you in his life before almost goin off the deep end. The gaping hole in his already miserable existence seems to physical weaken him. Kishibe can't eat, think or fuckin sleep anymore. Drinks more and focuses less on his goals at work, even skippin out some days to secretly pop up to check on you. But you never see him, even when you feel a pair of unknown eyes on you every now and again. He continues to watch from afar when you patrol, missin the way you'd accompany him on his. Longing to hear your sweet giggles when he'd say something dark or give you a taste of that dry humor. The only woman that got him to open up bout what makes him drown his sorrows in liquor. And even indulge less. Needs that connection with you again. He's startin to care less and less how hes too old, too much of a brute that might be incapable of giving what you need. And in fully recognizing that.. Kishibe can't be without you much longer. The only semblance of peace is late at night when he gives in to the madness that haunts him, pumpin at his angry agitated cock while you consume his mind. "Ohhh fuck, y/nnn.. Touch me, sweetheart.." Head dipped back into his pillow, moaning low imagining the his grip to be the warm wet clutch of your tight lil puss. Perspiration drippin down his nude frame, muscles spasming from how good it feels. "Tell me you want me.." Drivin him insane rememberin every scar, dimple, beauty mark peekin from your formal public safety uniform. "Want you so bad, pretty girl." Wish he could listen to how you pant after a strenuous session, tiny huffs akin to what he thinks you sound like if he sucked at your clit. "Bet you like that, huh?" Fucks his fist quicker to the thought, strokes awkward from how infrequently he masturbates. How sensitive would you be? Would you moan or scream? Buck and hump against his face, grind his lips for maximum pleasure? "Thats it. Take what you need greedy girl." Or maybe run from it. Yank at his short hair while tryin to escape, his name stuttering out on broken moans and pleas for reprieve as he forces you to cum. "Y/nnn!" Kishibe unloads allover his fist to the conjured imagery. Sputtering your name over and over as his nut spurts thickly in the air, splattering his muscled thighs audibly.

mentor!Kishibe knows things have gone all the way left when liquor stops helping to numb the pain of your abscence. Shows up to your spot in the middle of the night with a crazed look in his eye, bangin on your door like he was outta his damn mind. "What do you want Kishibe?" You snap after eyeing him through the peephole, swinging open your front door. Even through your outrage, you're immediately aware of the deep dark circles underneath his eyes. Or the prominent wrinkles in his suit jacket and pants, but most importantly the exclusion of that dank smell of whiskey. Your stunned he isn't stone cold drunk. But his attention is on the fact you're only in an oversized black tee, hair inna a cute messy bun. Smooth brown legs and pert nipple prints on display for his greedy gaze. Doesn't have very high hopes with hidin how his dick starts to chub, trying his damnest not to stare at the exposed skin. "Y/n, sweet girl.. Missed you so fuckin much. I'm so sor-" Kishibe steps a foot forward into your home, arms outstretched to embrace you but you sidestep him, smackin away his hands. "Fuckin kidding me right?" He's never touched you unless you guys were training, but back then you had always hoped for it. Dreamed of it. Even now your body yearns for him to hold you, caress you.. To fuck you. Traitorous pussy started to moisten, nipples stiffening the moment you opened the door. But you're fuckin hurt! "Y/n-" "What?! Thought you could ghost me then slide through for a quick fuck?" Your tone makes his heart clench. Kishibe can't believe you think that's what you mean to him. His face falls a bit and he drops his arms. "No, never. I missed you so mu-" "You said that already, Kish." Another interruption paired with a severe eye roll. "Babygirl, hear me out. You have every right to kick my ass and send me off. I'm sor-" "Yeah, you said that already too. Either tell me why you left me or get the fuck out." He takes a deep breath before puttin his heart on the line for the first time in his life. "I'ma fool, y/n. An old fool that had no intention of ever fallin in love. Not with the life we lead. You know as well as I that only swift violent death awaits all of us. But then I met you." Kishibe reaches for you again and but this time you allow him to link fingers, his words sinkin deep; they were very true. "Mourning hurts worse the more you care. I didn't want that for you. Just wanna protect you sweetheart. Even from myself. You mean everything to me and I dont deserve you.. What if i can't make you happy?" You mull over his words for a second. "So you denied me my dick, which woulda made me estatic by the fuckin way, all in the name of protectin me from grieving?" You clarify in disbelief. He gives you a short nod, cock twitchin at your admission. "Fuckin stupid, Kish. Everyone at work can see you're all i need to be happy. And we all die! No matter the jobs we pursue. What's wrong with enjoying each other till then?" You ask, palming up his abs to rest your hands on his chest. Wow. He never thought of it like that. Such a intelligent girl, but he always knew it. Though he tells you anyway. "When you become smarter than me, babygirl?" Kishibe asks, tuggin you against his well defined frame. Arms wrapping around you tight, dippin down to massage your backside as he noses up your neck, inhaling your fresh, feminine scent. "Haven't I always been?" You hug around his neck as he hums in agreement at your throat, tiltin your head to offer him more access. The need for his cock to mold your desperate cunt to the shape of him is overpowering when you feel it press firm against you. "Come in, Kishibe. Need you so much. Don't make me wait anymore." Connecting your lips to his, moaning when he passionately reciprocates as you yank him inside by his the collar of his shirt.

mentor!Kishibe hasn't had the luxury to relieve himself in weeks; can't even remember the last time he's gotten do it with someone other than himself. So he's absolutely unprepared when you unzip his slacks, push him to the bed, turn and hastily sit on his dick. "Holy shit, baby girl!" His fingers dig into your hips bruisingly, trying to lift you off his hypersensitive leaky length. Soft heat drenchin him, erratic flutter of your walls buildin that familiar pulsing swirl in his gut. Feels pathetic that he's already fighting back nuttin inside your perfect lil snatch. Mind reeling at finally gettin a taste of your bomb ass coochie, and the fact you aint have no panties on when you scolded him at your front door earlier. "Pussys too tight, worlds best cock sleeve baby. Mmm.. Oh shit- get up! Lemme breathe honey. Been too fuckin long, dont wanna buss yet." But you fight against his attempts to unsheathe himself, moanin as his words replay in your head. Leanin back into his strong chest as his scent clouds your mind, reachin back to grip tight at his freshly cut soft blonde locks. "Nooo, Kish! Don't make me wait anymore. N-need it so bad. 'S so big, feels so good inside me. Don't make me stop, pleeease. Gimme my dick, baby. Waited long enough right? Waited like a good girl?" Kishibe clenches his gut tight, noddin his head swiftly. Your filthy pleas, how you frantically mouth and suck on his neck, pullin his short hair hard, makin his fat balls buzz pleasantly. "Yes, yes. Ughnn fuh-uck.. Such a good girl, my best girl.. So please sweetheart, slow the fuck down less you want this shit to be over with already." He's sits tense, so fuckin on edge tryin not cum, not even sure you hear anything after 'good girl'. "Y/n?" "Kishibeee.." Your immediate dazed moan back to him doesnt sound promising on followin orders. Fuck! He assumes even with bitin off more than your lil puss can chew, you've been plottin all this time to take matters into your own hands. Always the clever girl. And so goddamn impatient. "Oh fuck, y/nnn.. Gonna give you what you want, just w-wait‐ wait a second honey!" Fuck that shit. "No." You huff, makin his pretty eyes narrow at your new found disobedience. "Little girl, stop. Right now. Dont make me- haaah!" Threat cut short when you grind and roll your hips into his before leanin on his knees to tentatively bounce on his dick. "Ohmygod! Knew you'd fuck me so good. Ohfuuuck! Waited too long for this good dick. So worth it, so so worth it!" You keen, tossin your head back at him diggin you out, body tremblin how he stretches your delicate walls round his thick girth more than any man ever had.

Kishibe eyes widen at your antics, grip at your hips useless as you keep a tight hold of the reins and fuck him a bit quicker. Tits jigglin under your tee, clit throbbin for attention as you use his dick to knock into that ridged pleasure button inside you. "Fuck me, Kishi! Show me how much you missed me. Yeees, yes- right there!" The intense sensation rapidly formin in the depths of your tummy is frighteningly mind numbing but you chase it anyway. Fuckin him vigorously, nails diggin into his knees as you both near whats sure to be orgasms for the history books. "Shiiit! Gonna make me buss so fuckin h-hard, honey.." "Then buss for me. Mmm. Show me what I've been missin. Wanna feel your nut splash inside, handsome." No womans ever talked to or fucked him like this before. Its him that usually mounts his victims till they're stupid from his curved cock. But now he can hardly take the snug hug your hole gives his dick. Unable to stop his eyes from rollin back in his skull when you focus on humpin the wide mushroom tip, swiveling your hips sensually as you ride your mans dick. His fingers slip from your hips and Kishibe falls back against the bed limply, eyes blurry with tears at the sensation of you fuckin him so thoroughly. "F-fuck honey. Thats it. Put that pussy on Daddy." He slurs, eyes shut tight, oblivious to the dark kink he keeps buried deep down finally breakin free. "Make me nut in that pretty lil pussy, baby. Show Daddy how he's the only one that can cum inside." His chest heaves as he pants out quick labored grunts from the way you pop your plushy ass on him up and down fast as you can, slammin your lil cunt on him tirelessly; the burn in your thighs the last thing on your mind. "Yes, Daddy! Gimme it, earned my nut huh? Don't wanna wait for it anymore!" You hiccup, beggin for his load in high pitched cries as he begins to buck his hips widly. "H-here it is, sweet girl. Nuts all for you.. Ahhh fuck! Take it, honey. Take it.." Glidin to the base of his swollen shaft repeatedly, literally milking the sperm from his poundin dick. Gooey white spurts layer your walls, coating your insides thickly with his essence. His hips unintentionally lift from the bed to chase your pussy, outta sync from your rythym, random hits to your gspot makin you seize in his lap. "Kish, Kishi- Kishibeee!" Juices gush and pool on his work pants as you cum enthusiastically, clumsily rotatin your hips, usin his poor cock to abuse your puffy hole even when Kishibe stiffens from the overstimulation. "L-little girl." He warns you but you ignore him, wordless moans slippin through your bare lips as you enjoy him like its the last time. The man has to gather all the strength he has left to snatch you off his dick and flip you onto the bed, pastel blue covers cool against your back. He hovers above you, sticky girth rigid against your slick pussy lips. "Bad fuckin girl. Doin whatever you want with my dick." Kishibe snarls against your mouth, kissing you hungrily, both of you still pantin for air. His words make you pout, releasin a small whimper when he pulls away, floppin next to you and cuddling into your side. "My dick, Kishibe. Plus.. Thought you said I was good." He snorts at your whine. "Any man would say that when you're force fuckin the nut out me the way you did, y/n." You bust out laughin at his deceitful trickery, your infectious giggles makin him follow suit. "That right.. Daddy? Didn't know you were into that. Think we got some catchin up to do.." Kishibe groans when you slip a hand to squeeze lightly at his sensitive slowly softening cock, smilin into his shoulder when it twitches with interest. He knows he'll never hear the end of this one and really wishes your perfect lil cunt didn't get him so fuckin pussy drunk. But really, Kishibe's finally happy; hopesand prays his lil slice of happiness won't be cut short..

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credince--writes · 5 days

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Deep In Those Woods- Chapter 10

Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader

CW: Attempted SA

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6- Chapter 7- Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

AO3

You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.

Taglist:

@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper @biggiecheeselover @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies @noname0756 @brain-has-left @vinithechocolatevampire @hotthankss

The heavy and hard metal reinforced toe of the soldier's boot digging into the side of your skull, the force of the kick sending all thoughts of survival and running away like a football punted through a field goal. The bright light from the lit end of his gun blinds and blurs into large shapes, meshed silhouettes and a visceral throbbing.

The sticky, hot feeling of blood- bits of torn flesh from the intensity of the shotgun blast coat your skin in blotchy, steaming patches.

You lift your arm in an attempt to block the blinding light as the man approaches again, but everything’s spinning, the motion of lifting your arm throws your entire body off balance. The adrenaline pumping in such a mass supply- the feral, animalistic hindbrain rearing up because it knows this is truly life or death. Your heart is pounding in hopes of delivering the chemical to live another day. Some kind of super-human response in the face of peril.

The confidence of your body fulfilling its duty, being able to protect yourself is shattered the moment the large hand wraps around your forearm and tugs you upward. Body lifting up the earth like a rag doll, then being forced face down into the grass.

Heh, a blade wedged up into your nose.

It tickles.

The twinge of pain, even in its dulled state as your arms are wedged so face backwards makes you grimace. The trees are pretty tonight, the moonlight- even in their blurry form cast tall, dark, blurry forms into the night sky. Maybe the best part about the dissolution of the modern world is the beauty of the night sky without the city’s lights.

It was blurry, even if your muscles felt light they had been hooked up to an electrical main. Tense and ready to pounce at any moment- the blade's edge you were dancing on. But you were aware- slightly. The disconnect ever present in your brain. The sound of a wounded animal as you are drug through the woods, the feeling of zip ties holding your wrists together.

The feeling of the coagulation collecting dirt. The dust coating the blood on your body, the sticky and thick shell it started to mold onto your flesh. If they jostled you hard enough you could see bits and pieces flake off and onto the dirt below you.

Sometimes out of spite you’d dig your toes into the earth, digging deep gouges into the moist wooded earth.

The feeling of rope, your shoulders screaming. The cold of the nearly dried blood on your skin.

The ache in your neck at the pain of draping forward, opening your eyes and seeing more than blurry shapes and figures. The smell of smoke and two men sitting next to a small fire, something similar to a chicken’s carcass being cooked over the bright coals. The ache in your shoulders, quickly moving to alleviate some of the weight on them by pushing up onto your tiptoes, only for your boots to slip on something and slide out from under you.

The sudden jolt and weight on your wrists and shoulders caused a sharp gasp to escape your lips. The sneer and chuckle of the two soldiers watching you struggle to maintain footing the entertainment of the night.

The smell of blood registering in your nose, the wet slip of something under your toes- looking down to see a pile of guts ripped from the carcass of the chicken discarded at your feet. Every attempt to stabilize yourself met with a wet squelch or the popping of cartilage and bone.

The gag is unstoppable, your body heaving forward with a jolt, further straining your muscles.

They only laugh harder.

The extent of the situation begins to dawn on you- that you wouldn’t be able to do anything against them even with your hands free. The nightmare you’d feared since the beginning had become true, and you were at the mercy of something worse than monsters.

You were at the mercy of men.

It’s that very fear, validated in the moment that one of the men rolls over to sleep for the night. The second left to stand guard for the night- waiting until the breaths of the first became even.

He stands, eyes locked onto your body.

The bile rises in your throat.

You can smell his breath, cigarettes and rot. The wafting smell of charred meat from the chicken they’d eaten earlier. The smell of decay wafting from his mouth with heady breaths. He grips your chin between your forefinger and thumb, and you can see the glint of the dirt and filth coating his hands and under his nails.

He sneers something to you that you can’t understand, a teasing and crude tone of mock worry.

He leans in closer.

Without thinking you drive your forehead into his nose as hard as you can, lurching your body forward with as much momentum as you can gather from your struggling toes.

He lets out a howl, and stumbles back. The first man immediately jolted up at the sound of his comrade’s injury. You hope the satisfaction of the harm inflicted would’ve compensated for the feeling of using your head as a weapon- but the dread washes away any potential smugness as the two men turn back to you, fists raised.

You didn’t even break his nose.

The first, an open handed slap across your cheek sends you reeling backwards, yanked to the side as you stumble as the other man grabs hold of the rope your hands are strung up by. The second lands in your midsection, by the third your knees give out and the only thing keeping your body upright is the rope your wrists are dangling from.

You didn’t even make blood leak from those stupid fucking nostrils.

They get bored rather quickly, four hits in and you're dangling like a piece of meat. Rather than the tears spilling down your cheeks, a whimper escapes your lips as the pain settles into your bones. A throbbing in your lip, and an ache in your middle. A pain blooming on your back. The ever present scream of your shoulders begging for relief.

You’re going to die here.

The hand reaches under your chin and forces your face back up to look at him. Mumbling something you still can’t understand, free hand reaching up and grabbing hold of your belt.

The hot feeling of spit splattering against your cheek and nose makes the bile in your stomach rise back up into the back of your throat. His thumb coming up and rubbing circles of his spit onto the side of your face before giving it a smug pat. Once, twice for his own good luck. Hand sliding up from your belt and underneath your shirt- you can feel the dull scratch of his filthy nails against the blooming bruises on your abdomen. It makes your spine curl backwards at the feeling- the revolting smell of his breath.

The rustling of ferns, stomping feet against the fallen leaves and branches.

The sickening crack of teeth on bone. The blur of fur and flesh.

The scream of a man in agony.

Both of your heads snap to the side, a dog- no, a beast tearing flesh from the forearm of the man once sleeping. A man lurching from the darkness, blade in hand diving into the throat of the man as the dog tugs on the limp limb, snarling and huffing teeth bore to the taste of blood and pain.

The hand, resting over your rib cage feeling the desperate thudding of your heart yanked away as a blade is driven once, twice, three times-

Again, and again, and again-

The blood splatters against the trees surrounding you, a hot droplet is flicked from the blade and onto you. Adrenaline pumping in your ears all over again as the rope above you is sliced and a man is pulling you into him.

You fight- as much as you can with your wrists still bound.

The arm wraps around your middle and pulls you back and away from the fire, back and deep into the darkness of the woods. Rather than smoke, guts, blood, coals- rot, all you can smell is blood and the cold forest air.

Your legs flail, shoulders jolting side to side trying to get away- the dog has seated itself in front of you staring intently at your struggle. As if you’re to be it’s next meal- they’ll set you free to try and run away for their enjoyment of the hunt. The struggle you’ll never win-

Hands cup both sides of your face, steely blue eyes in the moonlight, your own heaving breaths. The arms behind you refuse to relent against your struggle, footsteps. Men.

Fear.

Your name, the timber and desperation of a voice.

Warm hands.

“Hey, hey come on and breathe. Take a deep breath for me sweetheart.” Keegan's voice, and the sound of your hyperventilating.

The brothers share a look.

Cold metal slips between your wrists, freeing the tension of the zip ties. Your hands reach up and meet his, trembling both with fear, adrenaline, and relief. You open your mouth to say something- anything.

All that releases are broken sobs, tears finally breaking the dam and flowing down your cheeks.

He smells like blood.

He smells like death.

Just like you.

#keegan p. russ x reader #call of duty #deep in those woods

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slutshamethesquirrels · 3 months

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Behind The Cover - Chapter 6

When you wake, you're alone.

Your heart sinks at the revelation, and you can hear Maki’s “I told you so” already in the back of your pounding head.

Suguru was, by all accounts, a paradox of a man.

You couldn't sort it out in your brain, but it felt like you were missing something crucial.

He had flashes of cruelty, seemed to revel in your fear. Spent most of his time with you with a blank expression or a pointed, intimidating half-grimace. He loved to narrow those predatory eyes at you, like you weren't meeting some sort of unseen standard.

And yet, at times his actions directly contradicted him. Like the way he'd meticulously cared for you after last night's rendezvous. It had all been subservient, intentional and kind, almost apologetic. But it had a damn-near professional undertone. Like a doctor dressing a particularly nasty wound.

He’d bathed you in the hotel's tub, insistent upon being the one to wash you, scrubbing your scalp and repeating the process over after rinsing. When you got out, he'd wrapped you in a towel, sat you on the bathroom's counter and gently washed your face with water from the sink. He’d braided your hair in two plaits on either side of your head, the two twists meeting at the nape of your neck where he'd used his own hair tie to secure the ends into a chignon of sorts. Not a single hair was out of place, not a spot of dirt remained on your body. He wouldn't allow it.

He’d lent you his own sweater, the one that still clung to your frame now, and you wonder if that had been the plan from the beginning. The way he'd carefully folded it during the act, made sure to keep it off the floor, you thought it was supposed to be a sort of demented head game, and maybe it was- but still, two things could be true at once, no?

He’d tucked you into bed, making sure the sheets perfectly cocooned your body, unwilling to let even a small gust of air defy his ideals of comfortability.

But he hadn't climbed into bed with you, never kissed you, instead opting to pull the reading chair from the corner of the room closer, sitting back it it with one leg propped across his knee and his arms tightly crossed, like a parent impatiently waiting for their child to fall asleep so they could get back to that violent tv show they loved.

Just before you'd fallen asleep you'd reached for him, craving some form of contact. You couldn't remember anything but the cool of his fingers intertwining with yours before you'd slipped into unconsciousness.

And so here you were, alone and sore, unsure of how you were even to get home. You didn't have anything on other than his sweater, and the thought of calling even Nobara to come retrieve you in his sweater and your heels makes you want to absolutely die. You think about your bare ass against the leather of her passenger seat and decide that definitely not happening.

It's when you rise out of bed that you see he hadn't left you completely dry after all. Folded on the writing desk is a change of clothes; a simple pair of black leggings and a lacy bralette, the type that could easily be (and was frequently by you) worn as a top. Along with it are all the dressings, a cotton thong and a pair of socks, along with a pair of converse. A preliminary check tells you they're all sized perfectly.

You almost ponder how he knew, but don't have time to dwell on it before something else catches your eye. Your phone has been plugged in to charge, and lays along with your wallet beside an envelope with your name scrawled across it in penmanship you struggled to read. It was cursive, obviously done with care, but a bit foreign to your eyes. It called back to having to read letters from long-dead soldiers in school.

Whatever’s in it is bulky and heavy, the paper struggling to contain the awkward shape. You open it, and are shocked to find your fucking car keys . You quickly strut to the window to pull the curtain open just enough to peer into the parking lot. Sure enough, you spot the scuffed up cherry red of its exterior immediately. Did that count as vehicular larceny? Either way, you had a sneaking suspicion Suguru had his own set of laws to live by. Who were the cops to someone like him?

Returning to the envelope, your jaw drops as you pull out six hundred dollar bills. Crisp and clean, just as you’d expect from his meticulous ass. Along with them is a note in that same ancient looking script. You have to turn it a couple times to decipher it, but eventually you get it. Three words, no punctuation:

For the dress

You don't know whether to be flattered or pissed, but after safely getting yourself home, you text him.

the dress was on clearance for like $16 at TJ Maxx dude. take it back.

It isn't until you’re in the middle of feeding your reptiles that night that you get a response. An annoying, irritating, kind of incredibly sexy response:

absolutely not. watch who you’re talking to.

Suguru's POV:

“This is fucking ridiculous, just so you know.” Satoru's voice crackled over the speaker of his phone, the glass held between his shoulder and his ear as he used the self checkout at the twenty-four hour market.

He wouldn't have been opposed to going shirtless, but for once the backup clothing he left in the trunk of his car had come in handy.

“I didn't say it wasn't. That's why I’m cashing in my IOU.” Suguru's tone is warm, unaffected by Satoru’s annoyance at his request for a favor.

“Suguru-”

“I’m sorry, did you not take out your last IOU because you needed to escape a hookup?”

“It's not the same and you know it.”

He was half-correct. A faux-emergency phonecall to escape a fledging vampire with some odd kinks and a mid head game didn't equate to transporting a human's car from point a to b, but if Satoru wanted an equal trade he'd have to be more specific next time.

“I can always just risk getting caught outside when the sun rises, I suppose” He sighs dramatically to make sure Satoru can hear it, but he's smirking as he does so.

He’d lost track of time watching you dream, something that didn't happen often with his meticulously crafted nature, but Satoru didn't need that little detail. There was no way he could justify cutting it so close when all he'd been doing was watching the way your brows twitched as you faded away, getting lost in the curve of your parted lips and the valley of your neck. In his defense, he'd almost left once he was fairly certain you were asleep, but then your fingers had emerged from under the duvet, outstretched for him until you found contact with the material of his jeans, clutching the fabric as if to will him to stay.

So god damn dumb, even in your sleep.

Even so, he’d taken your hand, running his thumb along the veins he found twisting around your knuckles, pressing against them to feel the blood flowing underneath. You were always so warm, your body full of life all the way to the core. Right down to a cellular level, you were living and breathing. He had no right, and yet he almost envied you. Maybe envied the man who would eventually marry you, though he physically crushed that thought the minute it appeared.

This was never going to be anything more than what it was, and he had to stay grounded in that thought. The truth of being alive in the traditional sense was that eventually it would end. How many years could he keep you if he were to fall victim to his own delusion? Five, ten if he was lucky before you noticed he wasn't aging. And then what? He’d disappear? Shatter you?

And what of him? Would he follow you from afar for the remaining fifty to sixty five years? Watch from a distance while you picked up the pieces of the mess he’d made? Watch as you fell for someone blessed with mortality? Watch as you aged and decayed and reproduced and lived and loved and cried? Watch as they lowered you in a wooden box beneath the earth? And then what? He’d be right back here. It wasn't worth it. Ten years would pass in a breaths span for him. A flash of humanity just to remain the same he’d always been.

Eventually Satoru relented. Suguru had offered for him to come grab your keys, but he’d promptly rejected that idea, opting to just break in and hot wire it instead to cut down on time.

With his remaining time in the room with you, he forces himself to ignore your sleeping figure, instead making sure everything was prepared for when you awoke. He makes sure your phone is charged and you have everything you need to get home safely and comfortably when the morning comes.There's a tiny part of him that wants to stay, but even if he could without dying by the light of the sun streaming in through the window he knew it was an awful idea.

Before leaving the room for the final time, he gathered the tattered bits of your clothes from the floor along with your shoes. God knows he wasn't letting them get tossed out. Of course, you would probably re-wear the shoes given the chance, but he could always buy you a new pair. A better pair. He couldn't buy himself a pair that smelled like you.

He knows he should learn to relax but he simply didn't have the strength to do so.

By the time Satoru pulls into the parking lot, he's already leaning against the hood of his car. He frowns at the grinding sound your breaks make as your car rolls to a stop in the empty space beside him. He’d be shocked if it didn't wake you up as well as all the children overseas with how loud it was.

“Well, if you don't kill her this car definitely will.” Satoru's already complaining as he emerges from your driver's side, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. She doesn't exactly value her life.” Suguru gives him a pointed look, and he sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically and re-opening the door to fiddle with some wires underneath your steering column until your struggling engine dies.

“Obviously.”

This time, when he closes the door with an equal amount of malice, he makes sure to lock it first.

“Happy?” He snarks as he makes his way around your hood, all but cringing at the situation until the smell hits him. His face goes slack and wild eyes trail from where Suguru stands all the way to the lobby of the hotel. Suguru recognizes what's happening immediately. Had it been Fushiguro or Itadori, he may have been concerned, but Satoru was older, more experienced. He could control himself.

Suguru smirks as he watches his long-time comrade grapple with the idea that you were so, so close. Undeniably, he’d been able to smell you from the cab of your car, but it was strong when you were actually in the vicinity. Not to mention, the stench was undeniably tangled in his hair, his skin, the fabric of his jeans- He felt a little vindicated, watching someone who knew how it felt. The primal urge. The burn .

“Let's go.” Suguru fishes his keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Satoru, who doesn't even attempt to catch them. They bounce off his chest and onto the pavement, which jars him back to reality.

Pathetically, he leans down and scoops the keys from the concrete before loading himself into the driver's side, which earns a genuine chuckle from Suguru. It was dark, sure. Satoru wanting to murder you was no laughing matter; but it was a rarity to see him so flustered.

“So, like, on a scale of one to ten-” Satoru speaks far too casually as he starts the engine and begins to back out “-how mad would you be if I-”

“Eleven.” Suguru's momentary upbeat attitude washes away immediately.

“Oh come on!” Satoru whines, and from the mischievous grin on his face Suguru can tell he isn't taking this half as seriously as he should “Just a little nibble wouldn't hurt anything.”.

“Absolutely not, drive.” Suguru commands without a hint of humor in his tone.

“Awwwh, come on Sugie, what is it?! You can share-!”

“Satoru.”

“-You’re acting like you have a little crush on the human girl!”

Suguru’s face goes blank. He refuses to engage with Satoru's antics any longer. A few beats pass and Satoru glances over him, his face dropping from a teasing smirk to one of genuine shock as he catches Suguru's demeanor.

“Wait, really?”

“I said drive.” Suguru huffs.

Silence settles, with Suguru keeping his gaze firmly out of the passenger side window, dead set on ignoring any further questioning.

Eventually, Satoru cracks into a fit of laughter, followed by an incredulous “Hoooooly shit, man.”.

Your POV:

“Tonight at Ten! Yet another college student has been found dismembered alongside Highway 109 South Bound. Local women are advised to stay indoors past sundown, and authorities would like to remind citizens of the importance of locking their doors and windows-”

The television drones on in the background, but you can't hear anything but the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

Super worms coated in vitamin powder decorate the carpet of your living room, trying desperately to burrow to safety. They look like maggots on flesh.

Normally, you’d never dream of being so careless as to drop an entire cup of feeders. Those were irreplaceable, gut loaded over the course of days with a specialized blend of fruit and vegetables to meet your standards of husbandry for your bearded dragon, Jingles.

But as you’d checked the group chat casually while making the trek from your kitchen to your bedroom you’d had your guts, your lungs, your soul absolutely eviscerated.

Maki: y/n? where are you? call me now. Nobara: whats wrong Maki: y/n im fucking serious Maki: are you okay? Maki: answer me Nobara: what the hell is happening? Maki: Utahime just sent me this

And then a picture that was reality shattering.

It was blurry, taken from afar in dim club lighting, but you’d recognize him anywhere. The man that haunted your nightmares, your first love, and the reason for everything that was wrong with you, you were fairly sure.

The sight of him alone made your neck stand on end. Flashes of his face cloud your brain, that manic look he’d get in his eyes when he knew he had you cornered and powerless. Blood splatters, black eyes, a fractured jaw. Your body aches at the intrusion of memories, you can feel his hands gripping your arms, feel his fist twisted in your hair, feel the sharp pain in the front of your skull as he pounded your head against the dashboard over and over and over-

Nobara: is that Ryomen?

Yes, it was. Most definitely. But it couldn't be. He was dead. His arrest had been a blessing, finally freeing you from the possibility of ever seeing him again. You had planned to use his three year sentence as a means of escape, but life had gotten a lot easier when you realized you wouldn't have to.

The main prosecutor, Nanami Kento, had been the one to call. You can still hear the all-too-professional tone of his voice cracking just slightly as the weight of his words seemed to settle over himself as well:

“It's over, y/n. He's gone.”

That was four years ago.

So why was he standing in a nightclub downtown? How was that possible? And more importantly, what the fuck were you to do? Who was there to call?

You had no family, all of your friends were no more powerful than you, the one man in your phone that hadn't blocked you yet was Suguru, and you hadn't spoken to him in weeks. So what were you to say? He wasn't obligated to open that last message he’d left on delivered, much less come play watchdog while you prepared to flee the country.

Maki was right. Maki was always fucking right. You needed to pick better men.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jjk x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #au no curses #vampire au #geto suguru smut #jjk geto #suguru geto

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moonlightndaydreams · 4 months

Text

Limbo Part 6

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader x Han Jisung

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9

Synopsis: Lee Minho is the mysterious new accountant at your workplace, and he seems to have his sights set on you. But things aren't so simple when your ex boyfriend Han comes back into the picture. Can you and Minho make it work, or will you get back with Han?

Spoiler: Happy ending, eventual poly minsung.

MDNI / smut

Chapter Summary: Minho takes you on a date. There is a turn of events. An angsty chapter.

A/n: I originally wrote this part of the story years ago before I got into fanfic. Interestingly, my main character’s name was Min (it was a coincidence). But I was inspired to write Han the drunk from the following song. (And in my head he looked like actor Woo Do-hwan) when I saw him in a scene where he was drunk.

Taglist: open.

A/n: this story may be familiar to some. It’s a rework of one of my older stories where I’ve now changed my fem lead to be reader.

CW: angst, reference to arousal and sexual touch.

Trigger Warning: this chapter refers to alcohol and alcoholism. There is a mention of a car accident and description of an intensive care hospital situation (not a major character). Vivid nightmare.

You felt the anticipation buzzing through you as Minho pulled into the small, unevenly paved parking space outside of your townhouse.

He could barely keep his eyes on the road the entire drive back to your place, so much so you thought he was going to crash the car at one point. It took all of your self control not to demand he pull over and let you climb on top of him. You did, however palm his erection through his pants with one hand, whilst exposing and playing with one of your breasts.

He’d been late to pick you up for your date, but he’d made up for it taking you to a cozy restaurant, where he gave you his undivided attention. That might have sounded simple, and you were sure Hyunjin would find it deeply underwhelming when you tell them at work. But for you it was perfect.

“I can’t wait to finally make love to you properly, y/n.” Minho said in the restaurant. It made your heart flutter. Sure you'd fucked, and sure you'd had tender moments. But it had always been rushed. Tonight you could take your time.

It had been raining earlier, but the sprinkling had stopped now, and so Minho took this chance to hop out of the car and make his way around to open your door for you. You both carefully walked up the little path, paved in the same haphazard, uneven fashion as the parking space. A fun little tripping hazard for you to navigate.

As you reached the bend in the path close to the porch, you could see the shape of a person as you rounded a shrub. There, sitting on your little bench under the porch light a figure sat, head buried in his hands.

Your heart sank, and that old feeling of dread began to bubble up through your chest. Han? You stood stiffly, but your shoulders slumped, and your arm fell to your side. Your handbag dangled on the ground.

Why was he here? Of all nights to turn up. Why tonight? Why?

Han slowly lifted his head. He looked like shit. Wearing his standard leather jacket, and black jeans. His skin was moist from the rain. Or could he have been crying? You couldn’t quite tell. He looked longingly, no, desperately, at you, as though they were begging, screaming for help.

He opened his mouth to say something, the words were on the tip of his lips. Then his gaze shifted to Minho, and an understanding dawned on him. Without even speaking a word, Han stood up and walked down the path towards you. You still hadn’t moved, and with one last look in your eye, he walked straight past you, bumping your shoulder. He was gone.

You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath and turned awkwardly and hesitantly to Minho. His expression was one of surprise and shock, and then confusion. You swore you heard him mumble “what the fuck is he doing here?”

You unlocked the front door with shaking hands. Once inside, you turned on the kitchen light and filled the kettle up to make cups of coffee. At this point Minho hadn’t said a word. Was he angry? What was he thinking? You felt ashamed. Minho seeing your ex boyfriend was the last thing you wanted to happen.

Awkwardness filled the air. Say something, y/n. You looked across to the living area. Minho was busying himself with his phone. He looked pissed. He glanced up catching your gaze. “I just need to make a phone call.” He stated and stepped back outside.

Oh fuck. What a mess. This won’t do. You had to explain to Minho who that was. You bit your lip and turned your attention back to making the coffees and peeked at your phone on the kitchen bench. Eleven missed calls?

“God dammit, Han.” You muttered under your breath. You picked up the phone to clear the missed calls from your list, but they weren’t from him at all. They were from his sister, Mina.

Your thoughts jumped to the worst. You knew what he was like, and that was exactly the reason you didn’t want to be involved with him anymore. You felt sick in the pit of your stomach. What should you do? Should you call her back.

The sound of your phone ringing startled you, and you looked down at the screen. Mina, again. “Hello, Mina?” You said tentatively.

You were met with a hysterical voice on the other end.

“Y/n is that you?”

“Mina, slow down. What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Is Han with you?”

“No. What’s happened?”

“Oh y/n.” Mina sobbed. “It’s Mom.”

Minho stepped back in just as you ended the call. He looked distressed. “Y/n,” he scratched his head. “Something’s come up. I… I gotta go.”

“Minho! Wait. I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s… Oh fuck.” You wailed.

Minho was by your side in a heartbeat, taking your hands in his. “Look. Do what you need to do okay. I’m sure Han’s okay. I’ll see you later.” He held your face in his hands for a moment. You couldn’t quite understand his tone, nor could you read his eyes. You didn’t have time to even think about that right now.

You needed to find Han.

————————————————

[Author’s Note: Aura never told Minho Han’s name?]

————————————————

It was late. Dark. Cold. You felt frantic and panicked. He wasn't picking up his phone. Again. Twenty calls straight to his mobile. You needed him to pick up. You needed him to come home.

You grabbed your handbag and jumped in the car. It was starting to rain. Tears streamed down your face. You felt a heaviness, a sadness in your chest. You felt like sobbing. But you couldn’t just yet, you needed to find him first.

Why was he always like this? Why couldn't he be like a regular boyfriend? Why did you have to pick a guy who turned out to be a drunk? Why were you such a fool? You felt ashamed.

You drove down the city street. Headlights from other cars warped and blurred as they reflected on the wet road. You parked your car in a side street. With no umbrella, you began your search.

This was becoming your new normal. Tuesday nights. Out in the dark. Looking for that fucked up loser. Your hair was sopping wet. Your black leather jacket brushed off some of the rain. You passed the regular shop fronts, takeaway food shops, a mini super market. The streets were still busy from people going out for dinner and leaving restaurants, heading back to their cars. Couples. Work colleagues still dressed in their office clothes. Happy, normal, people. Would they know you were a normal person too? A regular person who fell in love with a broken, hurting person.

You trudged up a slight hill and turned into a bar. The lights were dim and the air felt dense and hazy because of the rain outside and the warmth inside. The place was fairly empty. Was he here? This time you found him easy enough. Him and his best mate in the corner. His friend was a burly, guy who could hold his liquor and he wasn't as addicted as Han. His friend, Billy, could hold down a job, whereas Han, well... he lost his last one 3 weeks ago.

As you approached the table you realised Han was passed out. Not unusual. You leaned down over him, drops of water coming off of your hair and onto his flushed, sweaty face. He stank of bourbon.

You tried to shake him awake. He stirred ever so slightly and mumbled something you couldn't understand.

And then it hit you. A sudden realisation. You couldn't do this anymore. This recurring situation was hurting you. It was bringing you down to where he was. Hurt and broken. You couldn't help him anymore. He didn't want to help himself.

The frantic feeling had gone, and was replaced with a calmness, an acceptance. But it was only for a moment until that feeling inside you returned, that heaviness. The need to sob overwhelmed you and you could feel it rise up within your body. You let go of Han, stood back up and turned and walked away.

You didn't look back, although part of you wanted to. The voices and feelings inside you were pulling you, tearing you in a thousand directions, but this one voice, your soul, a quiet inner voice, whispered "it’s time to let go". It was the voice you decided to finally listen to.

As you hopped back in her car, you could finally let it out. The sobbing. It came loud and you body shook. You weren’t just sobbing for him anymore, you were sobbing for yourself, the self you had lost to him. You were sorry to yourself for staying so long, and promised yourself then and there that you would always put yourself first.

————————

Now you were driving along searching for Han. Again. Like old times. Mina’s words replayed in your mind as you drove through the night.

“Mom’s in hospital… She was in a car accident, y/n.. we don’t if she’s going to make it!”

You let out a deep sigh. You had been holding your breath and your body was tense. Your hands shook and your knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Your heart was pounding.

Mina had said Han had disappeared and they couldn’t contact him. They were worried about him, especially since he was sober these days. You were worried too. Should you have told Mina that Han was waiting at your house?

You took a left hand turn into the same street that you found Han that last time. The last time you’d spoken to him. The night you decided you’d had enough and that you deserved better.

But tonight was different. An exception. You needed to help Mina, you needed to help their Mom. Oh how could this have happened to her? A car had hit her whilst at a pedestrian crossing, the driver still not found. You cast her mind back to when you used to visit her when you were with him. A lovely, caring woman. A Mother Hen. She would cook a great big dinner, making sure everyone was full and happy.

Deciding to continue the search on foot, you pulled the car over to the side of the road and grabbed your cardigan to help shield you from the night air.

The light sprinkling had stopped and the night sky was beginning to clear. You felt so bad for having to cut the evening short with Minho. He acted so strange, and left so abruptly.

But you couldn’t dwell on that. You could make up for it later. You could explain yourself better, later. Mina was at the hospital, she needed someone to help find Han, and that someone was you.

You checked all the places you could think of. Asked the bartenders if they had seen him. They knew him well, but no one had seen him.

“Sorry, y/n,” Simon from the Oxet said, voice raised above the noise of the patrons.

“I haven’t seen him. Haven’t seen him a long time actually”. He gave a customer some change and came over to where you were standing at the end of the bar. “I heard he’s sober these days”. Simon spoke in hushed tones now he was closer to you. “Yeah, Bobby was talking about him a couple of months back.” Mina hadn’t mentioned any of this.

An image flashed in your mind of Han on your doorstep earlier that night. He wasn’t drunk. He was upset. He had nowhere to go. You shook that thought out of your mind. You didn’t need to feel guilty. He did have somewhere to go. Somewhere to be. With his sister, with his mom, not your fucking front porch! “God damn you, Han” you uttered under your breath.

After an hour of trying every bar you could think of, you decided to give up. Maybe he had gone back to the hospital? You decided to send Mina a text message. It was too late to call. You took in a big, deep breath and exhaled slowly. You had done all you could. All you could do now was hope that Han was somewhere safe and that he was okay.

The night sky was now completely clear, and the moon shone bright, reflecting on the patches of wet road. You were almost back to you car, but instead of hopping in, you kept walking ahead. You hadn’t checked the cafes, or the park. You had just assumed that he’d be getting drunk.

It was late, but a lot of the cafes still had lingering patrons who were enjoying late night coffees. Laughing, smiling. Happy people. Han wasn’t here either.

You felt tired, rubbing your hands on your face. You were about to give up for good, but your eye caught a figure over in the park across the street. There was someone sitting on a bench, back towards you. A familiar black leather jacket and mop of black hair. Han.

You raced across the road, closer. Yes, it was definitely Han. Sitting alone. Sitting still, head down, deep in thought. Or asleep? You approached slowly and carefully. Beside him sat a brown paper bag. Spirits? Your heart sank. Had he been drinking?

As if he could sense you, Han looked up. His features showed he was surprised to see you. But it only lasted a moment before returning to a solemn expression.

Feeling uncertain, you sat beside him on the bench and looked at him intensely, trying to get a sense of what was going on for him. He didn’t smell like he’d been drinking. His cheeks were still moist though and his eyes red.

Your heart felt like it was breaking for him.

“Oh Han,” you managed to say. The first time you had spoken to him in so long. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you say? So you put your arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

You could tell he was unsure, he tensed up, uncertain of the closeness between you. But after a moment, his guard dropped and he leaned his head down on your shoulder. His sobs grew louder and his chest heaved. He was heartbroken. He was devastated. He needed someone to be there for him. And in this moment, it was you.

You let him cry for as long as he needed and when he was calm he finally spoke. “It’s all my fault, y/n.” he finally said. You removed your arm from around his shoulder and held your hand over his own that was resting on his thigh.

“Han,” you squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture.

“It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t beat yourself -”

Han shook his head. “I was meant to pick Mom up from her appointment, and I was held up at the…” He swallowed hard and raised his face to the night sky. He blinked back more tears and let out a big sigh.

“If I had got there in time…”

“Look, let’s go the hospital. Your family needs you, Han” you whispered. You hoped you could convince him to go. They needed to stick together. Mina needed his support.

“I’ll drive you.”

Han nodded and together you walked in silence back to your car.

----------------------

You drove to the hospital mostly in silence. You could feel his eyes on you as you drove. Every time you glanced over to him he was watching you. You wanted to say something to comfort him, but you still couldn’t find the words.

“That guy you were with, how do you know him?” Han broke the silence.

Out of all the things he could have said, after an entire year of not seeing each other, that was what he asked?

“Han… He’s just someone I work with. It’s… it’s nothing.” You snapped. But your mind flashed back to what felt like some recognition between Han and Minho. No, they couldn’t know each other, surely?

It didn’t take long to arrive at the hospital, and the pair made their way to intensive care. It wasn’t hard to find Mina, sitting beside their Mother’s bed, holding her hand, head resting beside her on the mattress.

Standing in the doorway, you urged Han to go in and be with them, and slowly, hesitantly he did.

He moved a chair over beside his sister, who groggily raised her head. A look of relief flowed over her expression and she grabbed his hand, her other hand still holding their Mother’s.

Their Mother lay unconscious, tubes and masks attached to her face and body, machines bleeping all around. You felt helpless in this moment. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Mina and Han were going through. Grief, hope, fear? It probably felt like a nightmare they couldn’t wake up from.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you slowly exhaled. You had done all you could. This, being here at the hospital, this wasn’t your place. Han and Mina have each other now, and so you quietly left.

--------------------

You tossed and turned that night. You couldn’t sleep. And when you did you kept dreaming about car accidents and hospitals. The worst one was of you walking down the footpath and suddenly a car loses control and mounts the kerb, hitting you.

The impact sends you flying through the air and landing with a thud on the floor of the bar that you found Han passed out in that last time you searched for him. Except you were lying on the floor, Han crouching over you. Hair wet from rain, skin flushed from alcohol. “I am sorry, y/n, I didn’t see you… It’s all my fault.” You could feel a warm wetness oozing from the back of your head. Blood. It was on Han’s hands too. “I’m sorry” he kept saying. Frantically. Hysterically. Shaking you, trying to keep you awake, he just kept repeating himself “I’m sorry”.

You woke up startled. Panting, catching your breath. The skin on the back of your head and neck was warm and wet. Sweat. And you were alone.

The sun was streaming through the window. Six o’clock. Shit.

Despite the lack of sleep, you got up and started to go about getting ready for work. You took a warm shower and ate a piece of toast, and tried to keep Han out of your mind. But images of him from last night kept creeping in. He didn’t deserve this to happen, sober or not, what happened was a tragedy.

You hadn’t dared look at your phone yet. You didn’t want to be greeted with any bad news. You’d give Mina a call on your drive to work. You hopped into the car and mindlessly threw your bag on the passenger seat, where it tipped over spilling your phone and purse onto the floor.

“Shit” you mumbled to yourself. You leaned over and fumbled around for the phone and purse, but your fingers brushed against a papery texture. Han’s bottle of booze. You sat back up gripping the paper bag and its contents. It felt full. You untwisted the paper bag and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels? Unopened.

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes. Han was sober? Of course. You didn’t recall any odour of alcohol when you held him close on the park bench. You knew too well what he smelled like after a night of drinking. Actually the smell became just his everyday, permanent smell. You wrinkled your nose, shaking the memory out of your mind. You looked down at the bottle again. Part of you was in awe that he resisted the temptation. In the past, a bottle like this could have been drunk by him easily. He really had changed.

Tears started to prickle your eyes. You’d abandoned him. That night in the bar. Left him there, on the floor semi passed out.

You dug around on the floor again and found your phone. You needed to check in and see if everything was okay.

You surprisingly got to work on time despite the fog of fatigue and worry clouding your head. Luckily, today you could work on autopilot. A meeting at 9.30 to 10.30 and then you were going to take a break and stop by Mina’s house to get a few bits and pieces for her.

Mina and Han hadn’t left the hospital, they wanted stay by their Mom’s side in case of any change. They were taking it turns while the other took a quick nap. Deep down you knew that this might not be appropriate. Who were you to get involved in a family crisis? You really didn’t have a place to do that. Was it guilt that compelled you to help? Or the kindness of your heart? You weren’t quite sure. The lines were blurred.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @yaorzu-blog @drunkewok @igetcarriedawaywithyou @minh0scat

#skz smut #han jisung smut #lee know smut #lee know fic #lee Minho fic #lee Minho x reader #Han Jisung x reader #Spotify

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zaebeecee · 5 months

Text

To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 6/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

Chapter 6 art by @fletchingbrilliant here

•••

Mild CW for sexist/abusive language and general Vee interpersonal bullshit.

•••

“Vox.”

Fuck off.

“Vox, I know you can hear me.”

Yes. I can. I’m busy, Val, go away.

“Vox!”

With the smallest mechanical whir, the screen on Vox’s head lit up. It displayed the VoxTek logo and the little jingle that went with their commercials, with the word ‘Initializing…’ displayed beneath it. The logo vanished and was replaced with a simple, solid blue background, on which two black lines appeared. Those lines split, and Vox opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times before he managed to bring the room into focus.

He was still in his office, on the opposite side of the room from his desk, stretched out on his black chaise and hooked up to a thick black cable that ran down into a socket on the floor. Vox looked up at the form of Valentino hovering over him, his face furious, and consulted his internal clock with a sigh.

“Val,” he began in the most measured voice he could, “I am currently updating my local information, which you know I do every morning. It is not even nine yet, and most of my day relies on the fact that you sleep until two. With both of these things in mind, whatever you want had better be good.”

“It’s Velvette,” Val snarled, stomping away now that he had Vox’s attention and beginning to pace back and forth like a caged animal.

Vox sighed, paused his update, and unplugged the cable. “Really,” he said, uninterested. He released the cable and it retracted into the floor with the whir of nylon quickly pulled along metal. “That’s new.”

His sarcasm was lost on the angry moth. “She sent me this,” Valentino spat, doing something on his phone with one hand. Vox’s phone vibrated, and he withdrew it, opening the message to see a screenshot of Val and Velvette’s texts. The last one, which he presumed was the most relevant, just had the following words:

< You don’t keep a very good leash on your little boy toy. Bet you wish you knew what I know. Can’t even train a subby little whore who’s begging for it? >

“…uh-huh,” Vox said, eyebrow arching. He looked at Val again. “…and…? What did Angel Dust do this time?”

“I don’t fucking know! He won’t answer my calls, again, and Velvette won’t text me back!”

Vox clenched his jaw against the headache threatening to form, willing it away before he spoke. “It’s basically the middle of the night for him, of course he isn’t answering your calls. And Velvette is working.”

Valentino wasn’t listening. “If that bitch doesn’t give me an answer in the next ten minutes I’m going to rip her fucking hair out!”

“No, you’re not,” Vox said firmly, getting to his feet and intercepting Val’s pacing. “What, precisely, did you come to me for?”

“I want you to get it out of her!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Vox groaned.

Val threw his hands up. “She’s trying to piss me off! I don’t see why it’s only a problem if it works!”

“Val,” Vox snapped, reaching up and grabbing the other overlord by the chin to force him to look down. The moment their skin made contact, Vox felt the same little twinge on the back of his calf that he always did, like the mutilated little moth on his flesh was fluttering in a plea for Vox to tell Valentino, or anyone else, that it was there.

Just as Vox had since the first time he and Valentino had shaken hands, he ignored it.

Vox took a slow breath, but didn’t release Valentino. “Do you want me to bring her up for a meeting?”

Val, much more calmly and with wide eyes behind his heart-shaped glasses, nodded once. “That would be fine.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Vox stepped away and sat on the chaise again, tapping his phone and dialing Velvette. Her contact briefly flashed across his face before his features returned, and he waited.

She picked up on the third ring. “Whatcha want? I’m busy.”

To her credit, that sounded true. “Velvette! So sorry to interrupt you, but we need to have a meeting.”

“Not a chance,” Velvette answered instantly. “I know that this is about your boy toy, and he can wait until I’ve got a free mo’ in my schedule. Let it eat at him.”

“He is currently in my office making it my problem,” Vox said; he didn’t look at Val, but he could feel the blind moth staring daggers at him. “Get up here. Now.”

“No can do, sorry! Gotta go, kisses, bye luv.” She made kissy noises at her phone, then hung up.

Vox sighed. “Why do I put up with this?”

“Did she hang up on you?!” Val demanded.

“Shut up. I’ll handle this.” Vox went to his desk and picked up the cable for the intercom system, hooking it into one of his audio jacks and activating only the speakers in areas not accessible to the public. Vox took a breath and then put on his game show announcer voice. “Attention, VoxTek! Contest time! The first employee to find Velvette and break both of her kneecaps before she can make it to my office will be given two weeks paid vacation!”

He unplugged the cable as Valentino cackled. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Happy now?” Vox asked dryly.

“Delirious, mi amor.”

Minutes later, the door of the office slammed open and Velvette stomped in, her hair and clothes more than slightly out of sorts. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screamed, getting in Vox’s face. “I had Killjoy’s lighting crew come at me with spotlight housing!”

Vox smiled at her. “It was as motivational as I hoped it would be! So good you found time to join us, Velvette.”

“Fuck you, Vox,” she said, then spun on Valentino. “And double fuck you because I know this is your fault!”

“Me?!” Valentino leaned down to get eye level with her, probably so he could see her. “What the hell did I do?”

“Don’t think I don’t know you ran off to get your master to solve your problems like the little bitch you are!”

“You filthy little cunt—”

“SHUT UP!” Vox bellowed over both of them, his left eye spasming uncontrollably for a split second until he forced it to calm down. It did the trick, however, as both of his compatriots spun their heads to stare at him. Vox drew a breath. “You, sit there,” he said, pointing to Velvette and a nearby chair. “You, there,” he added, pointing to Valentino and the couch. Once they were settled, he stood at an angle to both of them to permit him to observe them simultaneously while keeping them far enough apart that they wouldn’t attempt to claw each other’s eyes out. “Now. Velvette. Valentino informed me of your… correspondence this morning.”

“Of course he did,” Velvette said with a dramatic roll of her eyes, one that carried her entire head in a slow roll with them. “It isn’t ready to be posted yet. I thought he would appreciate a little taste of what was going to be running in celebrity gossip soon.”

“If it’s about Angel Dust, it’s my business,” Val countered sharply. “He is my property and whatever concerns him also concerns me!”

Vox held his hand up to silence Valentino, looking at Velvette. “I wasn’t aware there was anything of particular interest that had happened lately.”

“Well, that’s because it came in late last night and the proofs aren’t ready for you yet,” Velvette said, like it was obvious.

Vox took a moment to keep his calm, because he really couldn’t argue with either point. It wasn’t unusual for him to be temporarily out of the loop where lowbrow gossip was concerned, and truth be told, he didn’t pay all that much attention when he was told.

Velvette took advantage of his quiet to add, “Besides, I knew it would make you mad.”

Vox’s eyes snapped to her. “Mad?” He pulled himself together and put his smile back on. “What in the world has Angel Dust done this time that could make me mad?”

“Alright, alright, fuck’s sake,” Velvette muttered under her breath as she pulled something up on her phone. Vox received her request to connect to the projector, and the moment he granted it, the stretch of wall that bore no art or other decor lit up with a crisp image of Velvette’s files. “I’m still trying to get eye witness statements from the location last night. Lots of people are too scared to talk.”

Vox frowned, watching her navigate through folders. “Well, you have my attention, at least.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Velvette said, just before she opened an image file. Immediately, the wall was filled with the image of a jazz club interior. The photograph had been taken straight across the aisle from the table that was the obvious subject, centered and framed quite well.

Angel Dust sat on one side, dressed in rather tasteful nightlife attire that blended feminine and masculine with no care for how he was perceived. He was laughing, one of his hands holding a noxiously pink martini, another hand gesturing animatedly. And his companion on the other side of the table… was Alastor.

Alastor was smiling as well, but Vox knew the Radio Demon too well to believe that this was one of his usual smiles. No, this one appeared to reach his eyes, the entirety of his attention on Angel Dust as he cradled a glass of rye and appeared to be listening quite raptly. There was no evidence that anyone else was with them.

“Took a while to get all of these through the compositor,” Velvette was saying, but Vox barely heard her, watching unblinkingly as she flipped through images. There was one of Alastor reluctantly accepting Angel Dust’s martini, followed by Alastor on his feet, offering his hand to Angel, and Angel taking it.

The two of them on the dance floor, Alastor holding Angel Dust, cradling the spider in his arms as he supported Angel’s head with his hand, Angel’s leg kicked up into the air.

Another of them dancing, Angel’s arms around Alastor’s shoulders and one knee hooked up to press against his waist, both of them laughing.

Alastor lighting a cigarette for Angel.

“…where was this?” Vox finally asked, his voice low, as he focused on the way Alastor was looking at that… at that whore.

“Eternal Triangle. Some shitty jazz dive,” Velvette said. “From what I’ve gathered, they showed up together, drank, danced, and left together. Didn’t meet anyone else.”

Vox placed his hand on the side table next to him and slowly clenched his fist, dragging his nails through the table top and pulling up ribbons of shredded wood. “Do you expect me to believe that the Radio Demon was on a date with that prostitute?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything, babes,” Velvette shrugged. “These are just the pictures. Not my fault.”

“…this is fucking insanity,” Vox said, a slightly hysterical laugh bubbling up in his throat as he spoke. “I don’t fucking believe it. The Radio Demon, cavorting around in jazz clubs with a hooker like some teenager. Oh, this is…”

infuriating

insulting

baffling

unbelievable

“…fucking hilarious,” Vox finally said, his laughter turning into a full blown cackle. “Oh, shit, if we get enough dirt on this we could ruin him.”

“You having some kind of moment here, luv?” Velvette asked with a raised eyebrow.

Vox managed to get his laughter under control, but he could barely begin to tame the mania in his smile. “Oh, I’m just reveling, darling. I can’t believe this. It’s too funny. It’s fucking guaranteed gangbusters. Alastor, showing even a modicum of softness to that…” He didn’t finish, instead shifting his gaze to Valentino. He meant to ask something, but whatever it was flew right out of his head.

He realized, suddenly, that Valentino hadn’t said a damn thing for a while. Normally he would have completely flown off the handle by now, but he still sat on the couch, squinting at the images in his effort to make out as many details as he could. But he could see them. Vox knew he could, because his fists were clenched so tightly that all of his knuckles were turning white and little beads of black blood were leaking out between his fingers.

The sick mirth, and whatever else Vox was feeling, bled out of him quickly. “…Val?”

Immediately, the moth stood up to his full height, towering over everything else in the room. “I have business to tend to,” he said, his voice as cold and furious as Vox had ever heard it. Valentino didn’t wait for a response, storming out of the office and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The other two Vees watched him go, Velvette clearly as puzzled as Vox was himself. “…I at least expected some good Spanish ranting for a few minutes,” she said, blinking twice.

“Yeah. So did I,” Vox admitted. Val knew something, which was obvious; the fact that he hadn’t elected to share it with them told Vox that it was probably something he wasn’t going to like. “Whatever. We’ll worry about Val later.” He looked at Velvette. “How far do you think you can take this story?”

“Depends,” she said with a shrug. “Unless they did something particularly scandalous last night, nothing much. But if they go out together again…” She grinned. “Now that’s a story.”

Vox nodded. “Get our paparazzo department to put someone good but expendable on it. If either of them catch that they’re being watched, they’ll obliterate whoever’s doing it. But I want to know everything the two of them do outside this hotel. Until we have something good, sit on this. We can’t do anything about gossip, but I don’t want the story leaking before we really have something.”

“You got it,” Velvette said, hopping to her feet. “Anything else?”

“Just keep me in the loop.” Once she was gone, Vox looked up at the wall, where the image of Alastor lighting Angel Dust’s cigarette still lit the room. Angel’s eyes were half open, and he was smiling in a quite intoxicated manner as he leaned across the table. Alastor looked a little far gone himself, and his coldness was slipping into something a little more… fond.

Vox closed his eyes and withdrew Velvette’s sharing permissions, and immediately, the wall went blank. The office seemed darker when his eyes opened again, and he stared at the blank wall. It felt like the image was burned into the wood.

Calmly, Vox turned on his heel, walked to the other side of his office, wrenched one of his televisions off the wall, and flung it through the window.

•••

Angel Dust woke late the next morning feeling terribly hung over. He winced as he tried to turn his head, mostly because it made the room spin, and he abruptly stopped doing that and took stock of his situation while he waited for the room to calm its tits.

He was still dressed, so that was just great. He’d at least managed to kick his shoes off, but he definitely hadn’t cleaned his makeup or put his jewelry anywhere. His mouth tasted terrible, the ghost of alcohol mixing with the remnants of an unfamiliar smoke, and he was stiff like he’d done a lot of physical activity he wasn’t used to.

Unbidden, the memory of Alastor kissing his hand returned to him, and with it the rest of the night came flooding back. Angel sat up in bed immediately, his eyes wide and staring at nothing, Fat Nuggets oinking in tired concern next to him. “…holy shit,” he rasped, looking at his pig. “I wasn’t dreaming.”

Nuggets blinked soft, warm eyes at him.

“You don’t have a single thought in that round little body of yours, do ya, baby?”

Blink, blink.

“Thought so. Fuck, I’m gonna die,” Angel groaned, nearly throwing himself back into his bed. If he did that, though, he would spend all day feeling like shit. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, cleaning his face of smudged eye liner and mascara, checking to make sure he didn’t look too awful outside of that. Muttering to himself, he dragged his Walk of Shame outfit off and threw it haphazardly into his hamper as he went to his closet to find something that wouldn’t feel like it was suffocating him.

He opted for a slouchy off-the-shoulder black and pink sweater with thin, white linen pants, pulling on a pair of bulky black socks and scooping Fat Nuggets up to hold him in his lower set of arms. He didn’t have anywhere to be today, what was the harm of looking less like he was ready to make a buck for sucking a dick?

Angel was almost to the door when he remembered his phone, and he swore, heading back to his side table. His phone was almost dead (because of course his dumb drunk ass hadn’t plugger it in), and he had twenty missed calls from Valentino. Twenty missed calls… and no voice mails.

“Fuck.”

Angel quickly found Val’s contact and called him back, raising his phone and doing his best not to squeeze Fat Nuggets too tightly. It rang… and it rang… and it rang…

“You know who it is.”

Angel frowned and hung up. Valentino always answered his calls when there was something wrong. He tried again, but the result was the same, ringing a few times before kicking over. There was something wrong, Angel was positive of it, but short of trying to contact Vox or actually going to VoxTek, there wasn’t a lot Angel could do about it. He hesitated, then plugged his phone in and turned it off, laying it on the table. If anything happened, he couldn’t pretend his phone died, and Val couldn’t say he hadn’t tried to call him back.

Angel plodded downstairs and found his target pretty easily. Husk was sitting in the lounge with Niffty, the two of them playing cards, Husk leaning over in a chair he’d pulled up to the coffee table and Niffty sitting up on her knees on the floor; by the look on their respective faces, Niffty was making up rules again. Angel approached and slouched onto the floor next to the low table roughly between the two, Nuggets settling into his lap.

“Morning,” Husk said unenthusiastically, picking a card out of his hand and tossing it down.

“Is it still morning?” Angel asked.

“Technically, for another ten minutes or so.”

“Angel had a fun night,” Niffty said with her particular brand of crazed enthusiasm, picking up Husk’s discarded card and then discarding two of her own. Angel noticed their hands varied wildly in number of cards, because Niffty looked like she had half the deck and Husk had, like, four.

“Did I?”

Niffty grinned at him. “You came back long past curfew and you look hung over, and you could have cleaned up the blood. That’s a fun night.”

Angel laughed weakly. “Surprisingly, no blood, but… yeah. I did.” He turned his head. “Husk. Husky. Huskarino. Huskatorium. My pal. My buddy. My bro. My—”

“The fuck do you want, Angel?” Husk grumbled with no anger, staring at his cards.

“I will trade you an entire week of absolutely zero comments or speculation on your appearance, demeanor, sensitive areas of your anatomy, or vocal timbre whatsoever for one of your hangover cures.”

Husk actually smirked at that. “I thought you said it tastes the way you imagine Mammon smells.”

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ awful, that’s how you know I’m serious.” He raised Nuggets up next to his face so that they could both stare at Husk with big eyes. “Pleeeaaase?”

“Better not throw it up this time,” Husk said, almost putting his cards down before glancing at Niffty, thinking better of it, and tucking them into his vest pocket as he got up and headed to the bar.

“Hey, hey, Angel,” Niffty said in a conspiratorial voice, tugging on his sleeve. Angel looked down at her and placed Nuggets in his lap, where he immediately rolled off and waddled two steps over to the little maid. Niffty wrapped her arms around him, but he was too big to sit in her lap, so she just leaned on him. “Did you and Alastor hang out last night?”

Angel smirked at her. “Where’d you hear that, Niff?”

“Charlie.” Niffty’s one eye was wide and unblinking as she stared up at him. “She said that Alastor offered to chaperone you. And I know you didn’t get home until late, and I know he didn’t get home until late, because I was cleaning the chandeliers and heard him come down the hall.”

“…why were you cleanin’ the chandeliers in the middle of the night?”

“It had to be done. So did you?”

Angel smiled just a bit at her. “Yeah. S’that a problem?”

Niffty actually squinted at him. “…did he have fun?”

“I dunno,” Angel said honestly. “I think so. Hard to tell with him. Still got all my limbs, tho.”

At that, Niffty perked up again. “Good! I hoped he would. He doesn’t have enough fun anymore, except when people to eat show up at the hotel.”

“Well, he didn’t eat anyone, but I think he had fun anyway.”

Husk set a glass on the table in front of Angel, full of a foul-looking concoction that he couldn’t look at too long without his stomach clenching. “Drink it,” Husk said as he sank back into his chair with a classic older man grunt. He gestured at the glass with one claw, retrieving his cards from his pocket. “Won’t keep its potency long. And stop grilling him, Niff.”

“Yeah, that’s your job,” Niffty giggled.

“Shut up.”

Angel picked up the glass, frowned at it, then drew a deep breath and downed it. It burned like hell, just like it did every time, and the moment he managed to swallow all of it he was pretty sure it was desperate to come back up. Like it was alive or something. He leaned forward, focusing on not throwing up, as Niffty patted his back with cheerful sympathy.

“Well, well, well! Looks like quite the little party you’re having here!”

Angel raised his head when he heard Alastor’s voice, turning to look over his shoulder. The Radio Demon looked as though he had been standing there for several minutes, but he had definitely just arrived. Angel noted that he was, once again, five feet from all of them.

“Hey, Smiles,” he greeted in a weak voice. “Husk is tryin’ to kill me.”

“You quite literally requested it,” Husk said, drawing four cards from the remaining deck and discarding two.

Alastor laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been through worse than whatever Husker can dole out.”

“Look!” Niffty said happily, holding her hand up for Alastor to see. “I’m winning!”

“Is that so, my dear?” Alastor leaned forward dramatically at the waist, his head just as upright as when he had been standing straight. “I will take your word for it. Congratulations!” A tinny and invisible crowd of radio people gave Niffty an enthusiastic but polite round of applause.

“She cheats,” Husk said, as Niffty drew a random card from the middle of the deck.

“Even better! I’m so proud of you, Niffty darling.” Alastor straightened again and turned his head strangely to look at Angel. “Now, please do expound on this attempt on your life. I’m always looking for new inspiration.”

Angel picked up the glass and held it to Alastor. “This.”

Alastor took the glass from him, and apparently the smell that remained hit him the next moment, judging by the curl of his lip. “Oh, Husker, this is cruel even by my standards.”

“You’d think he’d learn to stop drinking so much, then,” Husk said, his eyes narrowed.

Angel looked between the two of them before he turned his whole attention to Alastor, leaning back on one hand. “It’s fine, Al. It’s a hangover cure, and it works real good.”

“I see,” Alastor said, delicately passing the glass back. “You did imbibe rather a lot last night.”

Angel shrugged. “It was a good martini, what can I say?”

Alastor chuckled softly, but he didn’t answer. He looked a bit like he was trying to work up to something. “…Angel Dust, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Husk froze, and Niffty made a tiny squeak, but other than that there was no reaction. “Uh, yeah, sure,” Angel said. “Niff, watch the lil’ orb for me, huh?”

“On it,” Niffty said, returning to her usual manic sort of intensity. “Husk, look, I’ve become a mother.”

“I see the resemblance.”

Angel got to his feet and looked at Alastor expectantly; he nodded once, then turned on his heel, walking off with all the confidence of someone who knew Angel would follow him. Arrogant prick, he thought, lips quirking into a tiny smile before he hurried to catch up.

Alastor opened the door to the private lounge with a wave of his hand and stepped aside. Angel went in first, growing more curious as he heard the door shut. What could Alastor have to talk to him about that needed this level of privacy?

He turned and clasped all four of his hands behind his back. “Okay, I’m your captive audience. What’s up, Al?”

“It’s nothing serious,” Alastor said, hands on his staff. He had only taken a couple of steps into the room, and was almost hovering near the door. Angel was reminded of an animal preparing to bolt.

“…alright,” Angel said, before he flopped backwards onto the couch and draped his upper set of arms across the back. With a third hand, he gestured to Alastor’s usual chair. “If it ain’t serious, then siddown, I don’t wanna feel like I’m gettin’ some kinda talkin’ to.”

Alastor chuckled. “Yes. Of course.” Just as he had a few nights prior, he vanished into his shadows, reappearing in the chair. Angel rolled his eyes, which made Alastor’s grin widen, but Angel couldn’t help noticing that the other sinner was sitting much closer to the edge of his seat than he usually did. He really was ready to bolt, Angel was sure of it now, which made him wonder what could put him so on edge that he would still say wasn’t serious. “I… forgive how dramatic this may seem. I had something I wanted to ask you, and I was… disinclined… to do so in front of others.”

Angel gave him an exasperated smile. “Al, it’s fine. Really.”

Alastor nodded. “I wondered— hm. Are you busy tonight? Or, if you are, tomorrow night?”

Angel blinked twice. “Uh… nope,” he said. “Not due back at work for a couplea days. You wanna do somethin’?”

“I thought, if you were free, you might want to come to my room and have dinner. I think I would like to cook for you.”

Of all the things Angel might have anticipated, this was not one of them. “Oh,” he said, surprised, and immediately took note of the way Alastor twitched a little. “Yeah, sure, Smiles. That sounds great.”

“It does?” Alastor asked with what seemed to be genuine curiosity and no small amount of surprise. “Well, then, excellent! Shall we say eight?”

“Eight’s fine with me,” Angel said. “Should I… I dunno, bring somethin’?”

“Your rapier wit will be enough,” Alastor said. “However, if you were to bring a bottle of pinot noir, it would hardly be refused.”

“Noted,” Angel said, grinning. “I know my way around wine well enough, don’t worry.”

Alastor clapped his hands together. “Very well, then! I must prepare. I only ask that you keep an open mind, sha.”

“That’s a nervewrackin’ sentence, comin’ from you.”

“It is, isn’t it?” With a grin that was almost manic and a voice already growing distorted by his shadows, he said, “See you tonight.” The darkness swallowed him up, and he was gone.

It was only then that Angel realized… Alastor had been nervous. And not just nervous in general, but nervous about asking Angel to spend time with him. That meant he actually cared whether or not Angel wanted to, which meant that he wanted to, which meant—

Oh holy fucking shitballs Alastor just asked me out on a date and I don’t think he even realizes he did it.

Angel didn’t return to the table immediately. Niffty was always happy to look after Fat Nuggets, and as long as he made sure to ask, he was positive that wouldn’t change. Instead, he went back upstairs and turned his phone on, his heartbeat quickening while it booted up.

The VoxTek logo lit up the black screen—Trust us with your communication!—and then his lock screen with the selfie he, Cherri, and Niffty had taken after their last mani pedi lit up.

Zero notifications loaded. Val hadn’t called him back.

Angel felt a horrible sinking feeling in his gut as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone screen. Never, in all the years since he had sold his soul, had Val not responded to Angel within the hour. That used to scare him. Now, he realized that the lack of communication was much, much worse.

He had nearly eight hours before dinner. Angel unlocked his phone and quickly dialed a number, and only had to wait through two rings before he heard the click.

“Hey, slut!”

Angel grinned. “Hey Cherri. Good, I caught you awake. I wanna get lunch. Come with me.”

“Oh, I know that tone. You got shit to talk about,” Cherri said, and he could hear the grin in her voice. “Fun gossip, icky gossip, both?”

“Maybe both,” Angel said. “Guillermo’s in twenty?”

“See you there.”

Cherri hung up, and Angel lowered his phone before hurrying to change clothes. He needed to talk to someone, someone who wasn’t in the hotel or a friend of Alastor’s, and he needed to do it now. Before he saw the Radio Demon again.

He needed perspective, because he was positive he was losing his.

•••

#my writing #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor radio demon #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #radiodust #alastor x angel dust #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin fat nuggets #hazbin fanfic #hazbin cherri bomb

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orderforbrian · 2 years

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new chapter of Sea Glass Promise (our jonmartin selkie au) is up!! i wanted to post the pictures here, im happy with how they turned out - martin's face in the last one is so cute and babby jon is even cuter <3

[Start ID: Five images of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives based off scenes from a selkie AU. Jon is a thin Persian man with short dark curly hair and a beard, both streaked with gray. He wears square framed glasses and has dark eyes. Martin is a fat mixed Korean/Polish man with short dark wavy hair and a beauty mark under his lip. He wears browline glasses in some pictures and has dark eyes, he also wears a blue sea glass necklace.

1st image: Jon is holding a book titled A Guest For Mr. Spider and looking at Martin with a horrified expression. He is wearing a white button up shirt rolled past his elbows. The book has a simplified black spider hanging upside down with a friendly fanged smile and is tipping a red bowler hat in greeting. Martin is holding a hand to his mouth and snickering at him in the right corner. the background is simple book shelves.

2nd image: Martin is flexing his right arm, looking down at his bicep with a proud smirk, his other hand is rolling up the sleeve of his white t-shirt. A couple diamond stars are in front of his eyes and there are three lines marking where he is flexing. Jon looks on with wide eyes and a blush, there is a white circle around his head to indicate he is thinking deeply about the sight. He is wearing a simple dark t-shirt that looks too big for him. The background is a dark window to the left with pattering rain outside, with otherwise light grey walls.

3rd image: Martin is dressed in a jean jacket and a striped shirt. He is smiling at a photo in his hand along with Jon's grandmother, Mrs. Sims, who is pointing at the photo. She is a thin, elderly Persian woman with rectangular glasses, dark eyes, and grey eyebrows. She is wearing a hijab patterned with flowers and a simple dark dress, as well as wearing dark lipstick. Jon is in the background thumping his head against a kitchen cabinet, his arms slack in front of him. He is wearing a dark v-neck shirt with sleeves rolled past his elbows and jeans with a belt. He looks very put off by the two looking at the photo. The background is a kitchen with a fridge on the left, a curtained window in the middle, and cabinets and countertop spanning the middle and right.

4th image: A close up of the photo from the previous image. It is of Jon as a child (around 6 years old), wearing oval shaped glasses and his hair is just past his shoulders. He is glaring up from a book he is reading while sitting in bed. The book is untitled but has a silhouette of a mouse on a broomstick on the cover, presumed to be some fantasy novel for children. He is wearing a plaid button up pajama shirt with matching pants. There is a plate of Jammie Dodgers (crimped cookies with a heart shaped hole for red jam in the middle) by his side and a teddy bear and lamp on his other side. A blanket is covering his feet and he is resting against a pillow. Martin's thumb is pressed into the corner to hold it.

5th image: Jon and Martin at sat across from each other at a circular table that is in front of a large window at a dessert cafe. Jon is wearing a plaid flannel with a dark shirt underneath, and is looking at Martin with shock, he is holding out a cup of rum raisin ice cream towards him. Martin is making a disgusted face and sticking his tongue out, he is holding a tiny spoon in his right hand and making a fist with his left. By his right hand, he has a cup of green tea ice cream. Outside the large window, there is a fuzzy outline of street lamps and a walkway railing. There appears to be scribbled writing on the window that is intended to represent the cafe's name. End ID.]

#the magnus archives #tma #tma au #tma selkie au #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #selkie!martin #order up! art tag

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koyagi-writes · 2 years

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Mond-Liyue-PP-HCs.exe

Folder: Genshin Impact Accounts: Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Tartaglia (with Foul Legacy), Xiao, Zhongli. Query: n/a Pop-Up: NSFW (minors + ageless please DNI), gn!bottom!Reader, Male genitalia and anatomy, overstim, dacryphilia, dom-sub dynamics, piercings, tattoos, size kink, monsterfucking, knotting, mention of breeding kink, maybe OOC Notepad: Please do not edit or repost this software’s works. First official post on the blog woo! This is part one of a series, we will include Inazuma, Sumeru and Snezhnaya in part two.

Albedo (Kreideprinz)

Very few of Mondstadt’s residents end up close enough to the Chief Alchemist to learn of his anatomy, let alone those fine details of his body that you were lucky to gain enough of his trust to learn. You truly are grateful to Albedo for allowing you the opportunity to observe each others’ bodies one cold, carefree night on Dragonspine, free of words, only communicating by touch, taste, smell.

Albedo is uncut, probably around 5.5 inches (14 cm) when flaccid, and almost 6.5 inches (16.5 cm) when hard; it’s of average girth, if just barely thinner. It looks near perfect, the shaft fading into a pretty pink as you reach the tip, a single vein decorating it. His cock curves up slightly, shaped perfectly to press against your most sensitive spots. His balls are relatively small.

He prefers to keep his happy trail neatly trimmed, shaving it into simple designs (He prefers the four-pointed star, to match the golden mark on his neck.).

Albedo prefers to stay quiet so as not to spoil the song of your moans, but he won’t mind piping up for you if you ask.

His shaft is quite sensitive at first, his body new to any touch before the first time, and he finishes quick, dick twitching as thin droplets roll down his shaft as he reaches his high. It tastes ordinary, a healthy mix of salty and sweet.

Over time, he continues to experiment on himself, using different alchemical means to increase his libido and stamina, all in an effort to increase pleasure for both you and himself.

Diluc Ragnvindr (The Dark Side of Dawn)

He’s reserved, closed off, untrusting. Just what key did you use to unlock his heart? You were the only one in Teyvat to knock down any walls he had put up over the years, and even convinced him to hire you at the tavern. One night, after closing up and walking back to Dawn Winery hand-in-hand, Diluc would beckon you to the shared bedchambers. He vented to you about the stresses of the day, to which you offered to take the lead. He’d accept, averting his gaze as you both undressed, and had the softest, coziest sex ever, a stark contrast to his demeanor in public.

Diluc is cut, his cock resting at a cozy 6.5 inches (16.5 cm) when flaccid, and rocking 8 inches (20.3 cm) when he gets all fired up. He’s average, but is thickest just under the tip. He has a tan line from working out in the vineyard, so his dick is quite pale compared to the rest of him. His tip is a warmer pink, and the shaft is veiny. It curves down due to its weight, but still manages to make you squirm on him. He’s got mid-size balls, and they can fit comfortably in your hand.

He doesn’t shave, electing to trim, yet keep the hair soft and fluffy. It’s slightly darker than the rest of the hair on his body. He probably has prominent arm and chest hair, and both are sensitive parts of him.

Diluc is a virgin before meeting you, so he’s very sensitive once you seduce him. Not only will he be twitching, but you’ll sometimes catch his legs shaking from below you.

His cum is thick, and flows slowly down his shaft or into you. Despite his inexperience, his stamina is a marvel, and he can pound into you for up to 6 rounds. It tastes slightly metallic and salty, with a slight flavor of burnt caramel.

He’ll try to stay quiet, only allowing small groans and growls to escape into your ear. At some point, he’ll slip, and will end up losing control of his volume as he empties himself into you. Near the end of the night, he’ll be a whimpering, begging mess for you.

Kaeya Alberich (Frostwind Swordsman)

Many in Mondstadt believe Kaeya to be quite promiscuous as a by-product of his charismatic attitude. On the contrary, he is far more reserved and far less experienced than anyone expects. Once you and him have a private night together (for once), he pulls the romantic cliche, decorating your shared bedroom with candles and rose pedals, a bottle of Dawn’s finest wine and two glasses at the foot of the bed. He’d hold you as if you were glass, and take you softly, gently, passionately.

Kaeya is cut, 6 inches (15 ¼ cm) when flaccid, and 7.5 inches (19 cm) when hard; he’s thicker than average. His shaft is darker than the rest of his skin, tip blushing a deeper tan when he gets excited, and it’s quite veiny. It doesn't curve in any direction, despite how heavy it gets. He has 2 Jacob’s Ladder piercings, close to where the shaft meets his balls, which are mid-size.

As Cavalry Captain of the Knights, he’s sometimes preoccupied by work, so he can hardly find time to manscape. When he does find time, however, he makes sure to keep his pubes combed down and silky, just like the hair on his head. If he feels like teasing you, he’ll shave the hair above the base of his shaft into a little design.

You clearly underestimated his sensitivity. You expected your grip on his shaft to have little to no effect on him, but it’s you, and he loves you so much. His emotional connection to you perpetuates the pleasure he feels in every touch, lick and stroke on him.

He’s so pretty when he cums, thick globs of his seed dripping onto the sheets beneath him, or pumping your throat, cunt, or ass full of himself. It tastes salty, with a hint of mint.

He will pant and grunt into your ears, and moan like a pornstar as he reaches his climax. He doesn’t give a fuck if the neighbors hear him, he wants others to know you two belong to each other.

Venti (Windborne Bard)

Oh boy, here we go…

You decided to visit Windrise for a date with Venti, bringing your own instrument so the two of you can serenade each other amongst the branches of the grand tree. As night falls, the music you make together fades into a duet of moans, pants and praise as you cling to each other. He’s absolutely drunk off of you, from the flavors on your lips to the sweet, sinful sounds your hole makes around his cock.

We believe that the male Archons have different sizes, depending on what form they take. As Barbatos, he’s clearly bigger, 6.5 inches (16.5 cm) regardless of arousal, and he’s thinner than average. As Venti, he stays at approximately 5 inches (12.7 cm), also regardless of arousal, maintaining thinner than average girth. In both forms, he’s uncut, and is pale all the way up his shaft, the tip a beautiful pale shade of rose. As Barbatos, a cyan tattoo rings around his cock (and yes, it glows). His balls remain proportionate with his size in each form.

In both forms, he keeps basically hairless downstairs, save for a few black and teal hairs below his tummy.

As Venti he’s sensitive, and twitches at any contact with you, regardless of which part of you it is. As Barbatos, he’s slightly less so, at least giving you more time to build up your own orgasm on him.

Either way, he’ll still cum so prettily, watery seed painting your body, inside and out. He’s so sweet, just like his favorite wines.

He whimpers the whole time, and encourages you to do the same. Just like a duet, your moans and whimpers will harmonize as you both cum in sync. We think the Archons also mark their partner’s belly with their element, like a succubus mark.

If you’re both lucky, a new tale will spread around Mondstadt of the waterfall at Windrise singing. In reality, it was simply a wanderer overhearing Barbatos and one of his naughty little disciples (you) from behind the waterfall.

Tartaglia (Childe)

Ajax, for as arrogant as he is, looks so pretty underneath you. Tears in his eyes, freckled cheeks completely flushed red as you grind on him. You became the one person aside from his family to earn his heart, his love. This all started in the Northland Bank, as you intended to bring Ajax lunch, and eat with him while he took a break from his paperwork. One thing led to another, and you ended up straddling his lap, teasing him a bit, then leaving him hard in his office. He thought you were just being bratty, but when he comes home, he’s bombarded with kisses, nips, and bites over any exposed scars and skin. He barely sits on the couch before you straddle and undress him. You ride him so slowly, so softly, it’s so overwhelming.

Tartaglia is cut, and is around 6 inches (16 ¼ cm) when flaccid, and 8 inches (20.3 cm) when hard. He’s pretty thick, multiple veins decorating his shaft. His cock is pale, fading into a lovely coral color at his tip. He’s got larger balls, fitting for his breeding kink.

Ajax takes tremendous care of his pubic hair. As a proud Snezhnayan man, he cherishes his body, as damaged as it is. He keeps his pubes combed, trimmed, and conditioned regularly. He has a frenum piercing, which he chooses to wear gold jewelry with.

Somehow, he’s only sensitive when you’re gentle with him, you’ve come to find. It seems he’s so used to being roughed up, that your sweet, soft disposition overwhelms and overstimulates him.

His cum is in the middle when it comes to its thickness, not watery, and not thick. It tastes slightly metallic, but still salty and sweet.

He’ll groan and whimper under his breath, repeating your name like a prayer. He’ll thank the Tsaritsa for giving you to him, no matter where or how you met. You’ll have to kiss him or bite his neck if you want him to shut up.

Bonus: Foul Legacy

It was time for your weekly spar in the Golden House. You and your boyfriend made bets on how long you would last or if you would win this time. If you won, he would treat you to dinner, and if he won, he would take you in whatever form he was in. You had gotten far enough on your own, but for the first time, you had been defeated by Foul Legacy. He would pin you to the floor, and await your approval to enter you, and waste no time thrusting into your hole.

Because FL is twice as tall as regular Ajax, this means that proportionally, his cock will be twice as long, and twice as thick. Consequently, this means the abyssal beast’s dick will be 12 inches (30.5 cm) flaccid and 16 inches (40.6 cm) hard. It’s thick, a knot decorating the base. It’s dark purple just like the rest of him, with black speckles decorating his cock. His balls are huge.

The flame orange hairs surrounding the base of his dick matches the mane atop his head, however now they’re disheveled.

As an abyssal beast, he probably goes into ruts, during which he’s most needy and sensitive. He doesn’t care if he’s folding you into a full nelson, or if you’re riding him, he just wants to feel your walls around him.

He’s aware he might not fit all the way, but he’ll purr praises into your ear if you can take all of him, including his knot. His cum will stay the same as his human form.

He’ll pant and growl as he thrusts into you, holding you tight to him. He would lick up and down your body, then let out a loud howl as you cream on his cock for the third time that night.

Xiao (Vigilant Yaksha)

Your adeptus boyfriend sat across from you on the bed, wrapping bandages around your injuries. He whisked you back to Wangshu Inn after he caught you in the middle of a scuffle with some treasure hoarders, and begrudgingly patched you up. He’d scold you for not calling out for him, finish bandaging your arm, then inspect the rest of you for any lingering cuts. He’d kiss you feverishly, but gently lay you down on the plush sheets as he kisses down your body.

Xiao is uncut, his cock is 5 inches (12.7 cm) when flaccid, and 7.5 inches (19 cm) when hard. He’s relatively thick and veiny. His shaft is tan, and fades into a dark aquamarine near the tip due to his yaksha blood, also resulting in his balls being proportionally large.

The adeptus’s carpets match the drapes; dark teal, straight hairs decorate his tummy leading down to the base of his shaft. He has a silver dydoe piercing, and the tattoo on his waist trails down to his hip and thigh.

He’s always sensitive, no matter how much he denies it. He’ll say that it’s impossible for an adeptus to fall so easily into pleasure, that he doesn’t deserve such caring treatment as a result of his karmic debt; that he only deserves to suffer. However, when you only treat him gently, giving praise here and there, his eyes can't help but well up with tears from the combined overstimulation and you challenging his karmic debt. You make the pain go away, with each touch of your body against his.

His seed is dense, extra thick. It tastes salty, yet sweet. There’s a subtle hint of… almonds?

He tries and fails to stay quiet, growls and whimpers escaping him at each thrust, only increasing in volume and frequency as he chases both his and your climaxes.

Zhongli (Vago Mundo)

Director Hu Tao had given Zhongli the day off, since no new orders were coming in for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s services. This means that your lover, the former Geo Archon, had the opportunity to sleep in, waking up surrounded by your kisses on his body. You both decided to stay in bed for a while, limbs entangled together under the sheets, tongues twisting together in searing kisses, hands roaming to each other’s sex. The warmth of your shared bed, tapping of rain on the window, perpetuated the love felt between you.

Like Venti/Barbatos, Zhongli has 2 different sizes. He’s uncut, and Zhongli’s humanoid form is 7 inches (17 ¾ cm) when flaccid, and 9.5 inches (24 cm) when hard. Morax’s Exuvia’s cock is sheathed, and extends to a whopping 20 inches (51 cm), and has a knot. He’s very thick, tan skin going black at his base, and gold veins decorating his shaft, similar to his arms. Large balls in both forms.

Zhongli is very neat about his manscaping, dark brown hair forming a beautiful happy trail. He has full Jacob’s ladder piercings, and opts to wear gold barbells to match the veining on his shaft.

Zhongli is rather stoic, yet still enjoys how your body feels against him. Morax is more sensitive, wanting to cling to you, wrap his long body around you, keep thrusting into you.

Both of his forms cum hard, thick and potent seed ready to fill his lover and breed you (with your consent, of course). Zhongli’s cum tastes sweeter, and Morax’s cum tastes saltier. You still enjoy both.

In the safety and privacy of your shared home, Zhongli believes that volume is irrelevant, that it won’t matter if you scream his name. He can pant, grunt, moan and growl all he wants once he’s thrusting into you.

A rumor will break out around the harbor about the recent earthquakes on Mount Tianheng being Rex Lapis stirring in his grave, especially when you don't hide the golden symbol on your tummy the next morning.

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