#careful python he's got his eye on you now

[siriuslysmutty]

Bait Dog - (S. R.)

Summary: Simon's got a crush.

Warnings: descriptions of gore, Simon's a little freak, boners, sado-maschist Simon. Shome shmutty shmut at the end (f recieving and intercourse), abrupt ending cause I can't be bothered.

Bait dogs are the one's they use to get the fighting dogs riled up before they truly fight. To let them practice. They'll use docile things so their fighting dogs won't get injured.

Simon was raised to be a fighting dog. His whole world was fight to survive. The only difference from now to the shit childhood he grew up in is that he escaped in a way. Now he fights for Captain Price. Now it's directed and meanful and he can leave when he wants. Retire. Quit.

He doesn't think he will. He was born to die in pain and misery.

Sometimes he sees rescue dogs on the street, torn to hell, scars like his, scary and ugly and he get's jealous of the thing. It's usually a woman in his experience smiling down at the beast like it hasn't known blood and death in it's maw, giving the pup some kind of treat.

He thinks if he did retire. That would be the life. Curled up and pampered. But even those women crowd away from him, like he's still drenched in blood and grime. Like the smell of gore has imbedded itself so deep it'll neber wash out.

Bait dog.

He clocks when he first sets eyes on you. Like a lamb tied up for slaughter, oblivious. Naivé. Innocent. White wool not yet soaked in blood.

The medic cross on your sleeve as you climbed aboard the same flight for deployment. A new uniform. Crisp.

Your smile when Gaz cracks a charming joke at you is a flare in the dark. A firework screaming and exploding in the night sky with the message, sink your teeth in I'm like soft caramel.

Too pretty. Too sweet. It makes his cock ache a little.

You stay with exfil. And everytime they infultrate your patching up the injured, casting mournful eyes over ones that didn't make it, counting corpses and then - one day he sees it.

Corporal Johannes had been on exfil when they arrived. Blood pooling beneath him, his leg shreded and shortened. Hard to tell what was flesh and what was fabric. A tourniquet stained in blood as he whimpered in your arms, skin greying, gasp rattling, soft moans for his mother silencing the incoming troops. The ride back had the soldiers gathering around the the both of you, where his head sat perched in your lap. Nothing you could do anymore. But your eyes, had silent tears rolling as you softly wiped blood from his face. No one said a word against the soft lullaby you were singing. Not a tease, not an irritated quip. Just a boy crying for his mother and you substitiuting with a quiet, french lullaby.

That makes his teeth ache.

Soft, gentle eyes on injured pups. You're a fixer and he wants to feel those healing hands on every tattered part of him.

The first time he get's your attention on him he's certain you've been avoiding him. Ducking, slinking low and shy. Docile. It makes him salivate.

He watches you with that unsettling stare and you don't quiver. You also don't meet his eyes. You just work. It's dilligent and quick. Nothing unnecessary. Careful. Methodical. Practiced.

He's gritting his teeth the whole time you sew up the 'scrape' of a knife on his tattooed arm. A voice crying out baitdogbaitdogbaitdog.

His hair stands on end when you swipe a delicate thumb over the inside of his wrist when it's bandaged with cheep cotton gauze and hum, "Did great for me."

You don't look back at him when you clean up. If you had... you'd have seen the his cock chubbing painfully down the leg of his already tight tac pants. Seen the slide of a python down the seam, cramped so tight it'd look strangled. But you slip away with the needle carefully in hand.

Oh, docile pup.

He watches you. Wanting to tear you apart. Sink to his gums and *shake*.

It's been nurtured in him. Violence is every part of his make up. He chubs when he sees you, especially when your gloves are saturated in gore. You pretend not to see him, pretend not to notice when he stares too hard.

Johnny and Kyle thinks it funny. But Price, he's nervous. Going as far as grabbing his vest to side bar him and hiss commandingly, "No, Simon. She's off limits." Tells him that officers can't fraternize with enlisteds.

It's fine, he'll just watch you.

It crumbles down though when he sees a shadow smack your arse in the mess. He's standing the second that hand is rearing. A crowd of hungry fighting dogs curling to watch like they always do at the little bait dog moving within reach with sharp teeth.

His vision blurs when the smack rings out, so hard you stumble forward. Too hard on his sweet lamb. He's got no plan in his head, just painting pictures of skinning that hand, peeling his tendons away and cauterizing it all with a blowtorch.

But you whirl and for the first time, it's not sweet innocence gracing your face, it's the crazy eyes of violent rage. Your tray drops from your hands, not even a thought and your hand is quicker than the shadow can lean away.

It hits the shadow across the face so hard he flips out of his seat and tumbles across the ground at Ghost's feet. The red hand print is welting and Simon stares at it. The imprint of fingers. It wasn't a punch. It was a smack. Openhanded brutality.

And once again, Simon sports an erection. He can hear the mutterings as he shamelessly stares at you and your beautiful rage. At the sweet lamb peeling lips back to sport shiny, bloody teeth.

His hand finds the shadow's hair and he yanks him up as you return to your fallen tray, plucking up the mess you made with your hands. He wants to make the idiot lap it off the floor but knows it's more trouble than it's worth when Graves rises with narrowed eyes.

So Simon opts for. "Any of ya touch 'er again and I'll break every bone in yer fuckin' 'and." And tosses the man aside as you rise and storm from the mess hall.

His bait dog has sharp teeth. And it's terrible how badly he want's to sink his teeth into you next, just to feel you bite back.

Price's warning falls on deaf ears as he slips from the mess and heads after you to med bay.

He spots you and you glance breifly but a sour expression carries and he doesn't linger at the edge of the room. "Don't fuckin' tell me I'm about to get in trouble for smacking that- ... that..."

He crowds over you as you trail off and sink away from him. You can smell the dangerous radiation leaking off him. The ooze of something wicked as he leans down into your face with that unblinking stare and grunts.

You finally look up at him with those woeful eyes, a little wet on the waterline. You give him the best treats.

Price is pushing through the tent, with a barking "Riley, I told you-" but it falls on deaf ears as Simon yanks his balaclava up onto the bridge of his nose, it reveals a chunk of his mauled face.

Your eyes widen and instead of scuttling back with fear, initial shock fades to sweet, sweet sympathy. Perfection.

Finally, he's found that rescue.

Simon kneels before you, submissively as Price curses and tries to yank on his tac vest to drag him away. To break that stare of his like a starving dog with a chunk of meat.

He grips your wrists in his hands, engulfing part of your arms in those gloves. Gently, so gently, he paws your hands closer. Your dominant hand red from the force of your delivered blow.

His mangles maw finds your palm to kiss is reverantly just as Price hauls him back. No matter. His eyes never leave you, even as Price wrangles him from the tent like an out of control dog. And you watch him, agonized eyes as he's skirted off.

Price has the audacity to put him on a watch. Posting Garrick at the door like that would stop him. The first time he gets out, he makes it to the medbay only for you to be gone from there.

It takes both Garrick and MacTavish tackling him to subdue him. He never fights them, at least, not in a violent matter. It ends with him leashed. And by that, it's meant that Price cuffs him to a post.

Simon watches him pace and rant. Watches him repromand him. But again it falls on deaf ears. The last thing Price mutters as the behemoth lounges back against the pole is, "Christ, Simon. You're out of your damn mind."

It's nightfall when he escapes again, this time with a dislocated thumb.

You're spooked when you wake in your tent to him looming above you. You don't get the chance to scream, because he kneels before you like it's a rite.

Slowly, sitting up, bewildered as he holds out his hands, one still dangling with handcuffs, the other with the terribly dislocated thumb. And you go soft for him again.

Salvation tastes sweeter tham the pain as you correct his dislocation. Cooing softly at him. All sympathetic once more. It's delicious. His sweet little lamb.

He lays his head willingly in your lap. It makes you heave a nervous laugh and whine. "Lieutenant, I think this is a little inappropriate..."

But you protest a lot less once he's got you on your back, legs dangling over his shoulders and his mouth between your thighs. He drools into your cunt, laving his tongue where ever he can get it, pawing at the fat of your thighs and whining into you. It's messy as he slurps and nips and he'd suck if the gnarly cleft in his lip could allow hims suction.

God himself couldn't order him away, and you certainly don't. Not even when he's on top of you, not even when he's rutting into you like the mutt he is. No, you claw him closer, whimpering and begging him not to stop. And when his blunt nails dig into your hips and make you bleed, he'll lap that up too.

Price finds him the next time, docile in your arms, draped across you. His only complaint is that he isn't discharged for insubordination. He'd like to start his retirement as soon as possible. Ideally with his new owner showing him his new home.

[natalievoncatte]

Alex slowed her breathing, finally. She was okay. Kara was okay. Her sister was okay. There was a lot for her to think about after the last few days but right now all that mattered was that she was sitting on Kara’s couch holding a beer, just relaxing with her sister and the two cold ones she’d already slammed back.

Alex stretched out her legs and put her feet on the table. Things were going good. This Children of Liberty were getting mopped up, Kara was… Kara seemed okay, she had a date with Jimmy (James! *James!*) Olsen’s hot sister that she had a feeling was going places, and it looked like the next few weeks or months would settle into a run of the mill routine of alien mop-ups and bank robberies, while Kara was in the running for a Pulitzer.

Alex sighed, contentedly, and then Kara popped up from the couch and said “Lena’s in the hallway.”

Alex smiled secretly to herself.

“Go get ‘er,” she said, stifling a burp. “Tiger.”

Kara shot back an odd look, and Alex wondered when she’d figure it out herself.

After all, filling an office with flowers was not a romantic gesture. Nor were the saves and hugs and little forehead touches. Alex and Nia had talked about starting a betting pool. Shit, there were rumors in the press.

It seemed that Lena and Kara were the only two people in the world that didn’t realize that dropping almost a billion dollars on a whim for someone is not what friends are fucking for.

Kara rushed to the door and yanked it open.

Lena stood in the hallway looking shellshocked and shaken, eyes wide and trembling. Kara half-lifted, half ushered her inside and slammed the door.

“Lena?” she said. “Lena what is it, what’s wrong?”

Alex sobered up in an instant -mostly- and was on her feet. She saw the bulge in the pocket of Lena’s hoodie and fixed her eyes on it. Lena seemed to remember that she had something in there and pulled out a gun.

“Lena?!” Kara chirped.

Alex’s hand flew to the nonexistent holster on her hip; she’d locked her gun in a drawer when she started with the beer. She caught herself, scolded herself. Lena was a friend. To Kara she was more than a friend.

Alex rushed forward instead. Lena didn’t resist as Alex took the gun, a brightly polished and valuable classic Colt Python six shot with a chopped barrel and coco bolo wood stocks, a real high end custom job. A rich girl’s gun, if a bit bigger than a girl would normally carry.

“Whoa, you have a permit for this?” Alex said, trying to be cute.

“I shot Lex.”

Kara tensed, rushing from behind Lena, dipping down as she put her hands on the other woman’s shoulders.

Oh fuck.

“You couldn’t have,” said Lena. “I… it was me, when we fought in Sentinel Island.”

“He used this,” said Lena, pulling her hand out of her pocket with a watch in her fingers. “It’s a portal watch. He can teleport with it.”

“He must have had it as a backup,” said Alex. “Teleported out before impact.”

Kara shot her a shocked look.

“What do you mean?” said Kara, “What do you mean you shot him?”

“Two to the chest, one to the head,” Lena repeated, robotically. “We want ‘em alive but we’ll take ‘em dead. Lex taught me when I was twelve.”

“Lena,” Alex said, as she flicked open the cylinder and saw there were three shells left in the gun. “You’re not making sense.”

Lena looked at her.

“I knew where he’d go. I knew what he’d do. So I got there first. I was going to stop him, make sure that he didn’t get away, then call for help. I didn’t want to do it. He made me.”

“Lena,” Kara began.

Lena looked at her and Alex tensed.

Kara wasn’t wearing her glasses.

Oh shit.

“He was going to kill you. You were becoming his latest fixation. He couldn’t get to Superman so he’d get you. I tried to stop him but I was too late.”

“Me? Why would he care about me?” said Kara. “I’m nobody.”

Lena stared at her, looking directly into her eyes.

“You’re Supergirl.”

Alex almost dropped the gun. She gaped at Lena, open-mouthed. Kara’s eyes went wide and panic shocked through her face.

Alex waited for the excuse, the denial, the deflection.

“Yes,” said Kara. “I am. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I swear I was,” her voice cracked and began to waver. “I know I lied. I,”

Lena grabbed the collar of Kara’s sweater, and when she pulled, Alex briefly thought that she was lunging in to kiss Kara. Instead she pulled her into a hug and Kara hugged her back, fiercely and protectively. Alex stood there dumbly with the murder weapon hanging from her hand.

“I was too late. I’m sorry. I was too late.”

“Too late for what?” Alex demanded, panic rising hot in her chest. “Too late for what, Lena?”

Still tucked in Kara’s arms, Lena turned her head and looked at Alex.

“He already did it. Turn on the TV.”

Alex swallowed, hard.

She walked over to the coffee table and grabbed the remote, turning off Netflix and switching back to cable.

She didn’t have to flip channels. It was on every station. Every network. Alex and Kara’s phones were buzzing wildly on the table.

“Oh shit,” said Alex.

***

Should I continue this one?

[moonwalkingprincess]

Robert Irwin x reader

I'm lowkey obsessing over Robert even though how I HATE he's using animals as models.

co written by chatGPT.

__

Ever since those ads, people has been rushing in the zoo. Mostly women over 30, drooling all over Robert. Not what he had in mind. He thought people was going to be interesting in the animals, perhaps sponsor them? But people only came for him. Asking him uncomfortable questions, taking pictures etc.

Unlike one girl, who would still pay attention to the snakes. The women frowned as Robert left to some other girl.

"Hey there! Need any info on snakes?"

She turns to look at him, quirking an eyebrow. A beat, then she lets out a short laugh — not mocking, but amused.

"Wait... you’re asking me if I need snake info?" she chuckles.

"Uh... yeah? That’s kind of my thing." Robert grins and the girl gave him a smirk, folding her arms. "Aren’t you the guy on the ad posing with the animals?" Robert let out a disapointing sigh, but he tried his best to smile. "Guilty. But I’m always happy to help."

"Okay then, sure. Tell me something I don’t know." She turns fully toward him now, ready for a showdown. Robert raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright... did you know the inland taipan has the most toxic venom of any land snake?"

"What?! No way! I’ve never heard that before... except maybe the last twenty documentaries I've watched." she mockingly gasps. She turnes around looking at the snake in the glass.

"Did you know their venom can kill a hundred men with a single bite? Or that they’re shy and rarely come into contact with humans? Or that they live in the semi-arid regions of central east Australia?"

Robert blinked "Okay, wow." he said impressed. The girl grins. "You thought I was just here for the cute koalas, didn’t you?" she asks. Robert smirks "Well, I mean, you do have koala vibes. But clearly you’ve got the venomous facts to back it up."

"Yeah, well I think I know more than you."

Did this bitch just??? Robert eyes brows went up in anger, trying to laugh it off.

"Excuse me? You know i'm an Irwin right?"

"I know who your dad is. He wasn't someone who had his Shirt half off, holding a black-headed python like it's a fashion accessory. He worked his whole life getting people to respect animals." he said, Robert's body froze at the mention of his dad name.

"I was trying to get... " the girl crossed her arms and cut them off. "You’re posing like it’s a cologne ad. These are wild animals, not props. You think making them sexy makes people respect them more?"

Robert’s smile falters slightly. He wasn’t expecting pushback.

"I’m just trying to get people interested—show them snakes aren’t as scary as they seem." he said defensively.

They are scary. And beautiful. And deadly. You don’t have to sexualize nature to make it worth caring about.

A tense silence. Robert studies her, his posture shifting from defensive to thoughtful. "Okay… fair point." he said quietly. The girl let's out a soft sigh.

"Sorry. I just care about them. The snakes. Koalas. All of them. I don’t want people forgetting what they are just because someone made them look “cool.”" Robert nods at his words. "So do I. Maybe I got a little carried away." she says, getting embarrased. They look at each other. The tension lingers—but so does a flicker of mutual respect." The moment was interrupted by a bunch of scary women asking him if he could sign magazines that had is ads.

"I would love to do that, but I just wanted ot ask first if this lady would like to grab a drink after i'm done with my shift."

You blink, the 5 women stares at you surprised and jealous.

"what?"

I just criticize him why would he wanna go out with me?

"uhhh" you said.

"I can go out with you" said one of the women, but he turned her down? He looked at you again "uhm, yeah, sure." you say.

"great, i'll see you at 5" he says and signs those magazines that belongs to very jealous women.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Sickness Bleeds Into the Earth

Kidnapper!König progressively gets worse. I feel so bad for König in this one. That and the reader. And everyone honestly. These people are genuinely disturbed. I feel kinda like a monster for writing this.

I want to make it clear I do not condone anything that happens in this story. This is actively a story about the most messed up kind of person out there, okay? I just want you guys to know that!

With all that said, here's breakfast with König's mom and dad!

Tws: like, everything? Cannibalism references, murder references, abusive family, abuse of spouse, abuse of power, yandere, stockholm syndrome, lima syndrome, horror, psychological horror

Wordcount: 3.5K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Sickness Bleeds Into the Earth

You woke up in the arms of König. You swore you slept apart, but at some point during the night he’d wrapped himself around you. You felt suffocated by him, surrounded by him completely like you were a mouse being crushed in the length of a python. You tried to move his arms, but instead they tightened and choked you.

“König,” you gasped, “please!”

You heard him muttering behind you.

“Wake up,” you wheezed.

He rolled, dragging you over his chest as he sprawled on his back.

Without much of a choice, you shoved your elbow into the soft of his gut.

In an instant, you were pinned under him.

“König?” you squeaked as you grabbed at the hands clasping your throats.

His cold eyes softened.

“Ah,” he gently removed his hands to hold himself up above you, still keeping you caged under his form, “what did you wake me up for?”

“You were choking me in your sleep,” you stuttered as his eyes bored into you.

“Was I?” he laughed, “I’m sorry about that. You know I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

“Do you always wake up like that?” you asked nervously.

“Only when somebody hits me when I’m sleeping,” he said smugly, “you know, there’s much better ways to wake a soldier.”

“I couldn’t breath,” you pouted pathetically.

“I know,” he kissed the tip of your nose with his snarled lips, “I don’t blame you. Just don’t do that again.”

“I won’t,” you vowed.

“Good,” he ruffled your hair and rolled off you to pull himself out of bed.

You watched the muscles of his back ripple as he pulled a shirt over himself. He looked back at you and chuffed, “I never thought I’d ever see something so beautiful when I woke up.”

You lowered your eyes to your hands woven together in front of you. You heard him pull on a pair of pants and crack his back.

“I feel so old,” he groaned, “but that’s what the military does to you. Now,” he clapped his hands, “about this morning. I should let you know that we’ll be joining my parents for breakfast. As such, have your teeth and hair done. I’ll lay out an appropriate outfit for you.”

You rubbed your eyes and yawned.

“Yes, I know you’re tired,” he said as he opened the closet, “but trust me, you’d hate me if I didn’t force you to do this. Remember, I’m always keeping your best interests in mind.”

Your feet met the plush carpet and you stretched before you got up. You stumbled to the bathroom to be met with a grisly sight.

In the mirror, twin handprints coated your throat.

“König?” you called out.

“Yes?” he trailed into the bathroom and peered over your shoulder. He looked at your neck and smiled, “Looks like I gave you a pretty necklace.”

“I can’t go downstairs like this.”

His smile dipped, “You can and you will.”

“But what will your parents think?” you hissed.

He clapped your shoulder as he walked off, “They’d be proud of me.”

With that, you were left to finish your morning routine in peace.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you looked on the perfectly made bed to see a light dress laid out.

“Is this for me?” you asked as you picked it up to examine it.

“I got it for you last time I went to town,” he said as he straightened his necktie, “I thought it would suit you.”

You slipped out of your pyjamas and set them on the edge of the bed. At one point, you had cared about modesty. König had made sure that part of you died long ago. Still, the thought of him in the shower had you flushing.

You slipped on the dress. As you zipped it up, you felt it snag. You cursed, but when you tried to fiddle with it you felt two leathery hands gently take it from your grasp. He zipped the rest of the way and then patted the space between your shoulders.

“Better?” he asked as he leaned into view.

“Much,” you agreed and smoothed out your dress. Looking down, the dress looked more like it belonged to a doll than you. Fluffy, frilly, sweet and bashful. This wasn’t the dress a woman should be wearing.

“Do you like it?” König asked as he put his hands on your shoulders.

You looked into the full length mirror on the back of the door.

“I do,” you admitted, “it makes me look…”

“Innocent,” König finished for you, “perfect for me.” He leaned into your ear to whisper, “Perfect to ruin.”

He laughed as you looked away, humiliated.

“Come on now,” he said, “you know I’d never do anything to hurt you like that. I promise I would never touch you like that unless you asked.”

“What if I never want you?” you asked.

“Well,” König thought for a moment, “if that were the case, you’d just have to get used to me using some of my toys at night.”

“Your… toys?” you asked nervously.

“My little pet,” he crooned, “I’m a man with many needs. If you can’t fill them, I’ll find a way to take care of myself.”

“So, while I’ve been sleeping downstairs…”

“Yes,” he finished for you, “every night. Even last night when you were in bed. Every. Single. Night.”

You trembled slightly. Something about the thought of König jacking off in bed beside you had your insides squirming in strange ways.

“When we’re married, will you expect me to have sex with you?” you asked and looked up under his mask.

He turned down as his eyes twinkled, “I will, but I won’t force you. Nothing unless you want me to.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you that König would grant you this dignity, yet still it helped soothe your nerves. Strange how morals restructured themselves when you only spoke to one person for months on end.

“I need to go down and make breakfast. Do you want to join me?”

It was a demand twisted into a question.

You nodded, and then followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, he pulled out pans and bowls and raided the fridge for ingredients.

“You can sit,” he pulled out a stool at the island for you, “I’ve got this handled.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

His eyes crinkled as he looked over his shoulder at you, “No, you’re helping plenty just by being so good for me.”

He cracked eggs into a bowl and set it aside to chop vegetables into a fine dice.

“Now,” he said, “you must understand some rules before you meet my father. For one,” he glanced up at you, “no staring.”

“No staring?” you asked.

“No staring,” he repeated, “and don’t speak to him unless given permission. That’s not your place.”

“Is that all?” you asked nervously.

“Well,” he hummed, “there’s one more thing.”

“And that is?”

“Between you and me?” he stopped chopping to lean in close and whisper, “don’t trust him.”

He went back to chopping and tossed the ingredients into a hot pan before covering it in eggs.

You stared at König silently as he stepped around the kitchen, whipping up fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon and beautiful sunny side up eggs. On another platter there were sausages, omelets, even french toast laid out before you. Everything you could possibly want for appeared at your fingertips.

When he finished, he put the trays in the oven to warm and wiped down the counters and put out the platters again.

It was then that you saw König’s parents walk into the room.

Mrs. Henker stood tall and proud as she walked in a pristine blue dress. Her lips quirked up into a smile upon seeing you and her son in the kitchen.

Behind her walked a shell of a man.

Mr. Henker was tall, taller than even König, but he walked with his body caving in on a cane that only barely supported his weight. His twisted legs strained to carry his slight form as his clothes billowed around his skeletal frame. You only met his hollow blue eyes for a second before you ripped yourself away to look at König, who gave you a short look.

The sound of the chain dragging across the ground brought back haunting memories.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Henker smiled brightly as she stepped into the kitchen to hug König, “you’ve been busy, haven’t you.”

König leaned down to give her a stiff hug before retreating to your side as Mrs. Henker took a plate in her hand.

“You know, I’m still offering to give you a few of my maids,” Mrs. Henker said as she picked bits and pieces to decorate her plate, “I have plenty in stock.”

“I have my own help Mama,” König said gently, “she’s right here.”

You subconsciously leaned into König’s side as Mrs. Henker stared you down.

“She’s only one girl,” Mrs. Henker mused, “surely one isn’t enough.”

König bristled by your side but said nothing to defend either of you.

“Anyways,” she said as she walked towards the dining table, “I’ll be seeing you both soon?”

“Yes Mama,” König said, “I’ll be right out.”

You watched the pair leave the room, taking with them the tension that followed them.

Suddenly, everything about König made so much more sense.

“I’m sorry you have to see this,” König gently rubbed your shoulders, “I promise you I won’t do that to you.”

“You mean-”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed into your ear, “we’ll talk about this later. Now come on,” he stretched up again, “let’s get you a plate.”

You nearly dropped the dish when he handed it to you. He took your hands and held them. When you looked up, his eyes communicated an unfathomable sadness. He rubbed the backs of your hands and then took a plate for himself.

When you’d finished serving yourself, you followed König back into the dining room. You took a seat beside him as he sat across from his mother. Behind you, a taxidermy moose overlooked your pitiful meal.

“So,” Mrs. Henker cut into her omelet, “what are you thinking we’ll be doing today König?”

“Today I think we’ll be just settling in. I’m going to take my pet out with me to meet my siblings as we play some games together,” König started, “tomorrow will be preparing for the hunt, and the day after we’ll go out at dusk. The next two days will be for the wedding, and after that we’ll hold the ceremony and celebrate.”

“Any plans after that?” Mrs. Henker asked.

Mr. Henker eyes haunted you as you looked at your plate.

“I think we should have a day to recoup, and after that it’s up to you really,” König said and then looked at you, “is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Um,” you dabbed at your mouth with your napkin, “I think I’d like to have a day to relax.”

“Oh,” König laughed, “we won’t be relaxing.”

You thought for a moment and it clicked in your head. You flushed furiously and stuffed another mouthful in.

“You do seem like quite a happy couple, don’t you?” Mrs. Henker smiled as she glanced between you both.

“We have been,” König patted his hand over yours. When you looked into his eyes, they almost seemed desperate.

“It’s been incredible,” you smiled back at him. Immediately you saw his eyes relax.

“So, how did you two meet?” Mrs. Henker asked.

“I met her at a bar when I was stationed overseas,” König said, “after that, it was only natural that I chose her.”

“You went to a bar?” Mrs. Henker’s eyes sparkled, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d go to one.”

“The men in my squad liked to go,” König explained away easily, “I only came along because they invited me. But I’m glad I went,” he rubbed your shoulder, “otherwise I never would’ve met my little pet.”

“She is quite a precious thing, isn’t she?” Mrs. Henker laughed, “Fritz, don’t you remember when you were like her?”

You finally looked at Mr. Henker properly.

“I do,” his slurred voice whispered between crooked teeth.

“I miss those days,” Mrs. Henker sighed and stabbed at her omelet. She shook her head sadly, “You know König, it’s fun in the beginning, but the spark doesn’t last. I mean, if it weren’t for you and your siblings I would’ve done away with Fritz by now. You still want him, don’t you?”

“It’s nice to have him here,” König said blithely.

“Then I’ll keep him,” Mrs. Henker sighed, “you really do ask so much of me.”

“I try to be good for you Mama,” König said quietly.

“You’re little hobby is no pleasure for me,” Mrs. Henker chuffed, “it’s a headache. But the things a mother will do for her babies, you know?”

“I understand Mama,” König cut his eggs silently, “I promise I keep you in mind.”

“Good,” she replied, “you’d better make good use of the meat you get.”

“I plan to serve some for dinner tonight,” König replied.

“Oh really?” Mrs. Henker lit up, “I do love your cooking. You know, it’s so hard to find someone willing to do a good job.”

“I can imagine,” König said as he took another bite of meat, “it’s not a common hobby.”

“Hard to find anyone quite like you,” Mrs. Henker continued, “not many with the right qualities. You know,” she turned to you, “König was quite the wild child when he was younger. When he was old enough to walk, I found him crushing snails on the patio. Later, he went on to go hunting with my brother to deal with his urges. The military was a good outlet for a while, but I’ve heard you’ve gone back to your old ways since leaving.”

König glanced at you, “I do my best to repress it.”

“You always were my little monster,” Mrs. Henker fondly smiled.

You ignored how Mr. Henker shuddered beside his wife.

“Mama, please,” König chided her gently, “I don’t want you to make my little pet try and run away from me.”

“But wouldn’t that be fun?” Mrs. Henker grinned.

He shot her a dark look.

“I know you like your hunts, König. Wouldn’t you want to have a little game with your pet?” she asked curiously as she cut her bacon up primly, “think about it.”

“I am,” König said, “and I think it’s too dangerous.”

“I think you’d have fun,” Mrs. Henker cut into her sausages next, “she looks like she’d put up a good fight.”

You felt König rub a hand over your knee soothingly, “I don’t want any of my siblings getting to her.”

“Then make her your golden stag,” Mrs. Henker offered.

König’s cutlery clinked together.

“I think it would be fun! Everyone puts a claim on a target and you each hunt for your own prey though the woods. Yours would be your pet, of course. It’s only right.”

“And if I lose her?”

Mrs. Henker tossed a dry look your way, “You won’t. She’s not that clever.

You glared down at your breakfast resentfully. Beside you, König cut into his eggs silently. You watched the yolks burst and flow forth like golden ichor.

“We can do that then,” he conceded, “if you think it would be fun, then who am I to stop you?”

Mrs. Henker reached across the table to pinch König’s cheeks fondly, “I knew you’d come around.”

“Anything for you Mama.”

You tried to hide the sheer terror on your face. The sickness raged inside your stomach, begging for release. Your plate was filled with a plethora of rich foods, yet they all seem to spoil into acrid rot. All the splendor died into desert dust and burning gasoline.

Breakfast passed by quickly. With each passing remark made by Mrs. Henker, you felt a little piece of you die. By the end, you suspected that you and Mr. Henker looked much the same.

König shut the door behind you quietly. As soon as he did, you collapsed onto the bed. He watched you shudder and shake as he sat down beside you and petted your sorry form.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “it’s over now.”

“She’s horrible,” you whimpered into your pillow.

“I know she is,” König sighed, “we all are.”

“What did she do to him?”

“Too much,” König sighed, “she took him on a whim. Unfortunately, my brother became attached to our father, and since then she used him to sire each of us. All the others were given vasectomies.”

“The others!?”

“She had a rotating series of them,” König said, “I don’t remember any of their names. They didn’t stay around long enough to bother trying to.”

“And she’s like that with everyone?” you crawled up into a ball in the blankets.

“Mostly,” König agreed, “but her family was keen on keeping us as the next generation. As such, we were raised mostly by our wet nurses and my uncles and aunts. They taught us basically everything we know.”

“So you were raised like this…” you curled your arms around your knees.

“I’m sorry my pet. When I was born, my blood was already black.”

You closed your eyes and squeezed your knees tight.

“I won’t hurt you like my mother wants me to,” König settled himself beside you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, “I won’t let them poison you too.”

“But… But how?” you asked tearfully.

König took off his hood and let it lay by your feet. He rested his head against yours and sighed.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but I’m going to keep you safe.”

“Are… Are you siblings like that too?” you asked.

“Lisa is a bit like my mother. Friedrich too. Klara, who you’ve met, is more like what my father used to be. Steven is the most like him. That’s why he hates to see my mother.”

“Really?”

“My mother is… She is many things,” König intoned, “but she is my mother. Steven has all but renounced her and the family. I barely ever see him because of her. I…” you heard him sniff, “I miss my brother, pet.”

“Do you think he misses you too?”

König cackled and shook his head, “If he does, it wouldn’t matter anyways. He’s too scared of letting me meet his family. He’s scared of all of us. He’s right to be afraid, but it hurts sometimes.”

You slowly felt yourself lean into König’s side as you asked, “You’re not actually going to hunt me, are you?”

König held you tight, “Of course I will. I won’t disappoint my mother. But… I can make things easier for you.”

“How though?”

König closed his eyes and hummed.

“When we go out,” he began, “you will be blindfolded and stripped of everything. When you’re released, you’ll have a collar and you’ll be told to run.

"When you’re set out, go north as far as you can. You’ll be able to get into the back garden. In…” König’s breath hitched, “well it’s won't matter, you’ll know by then. Go into the shed. You’ll find the key in the mouth of the pot. Once you’re in, take whatever tools you can and prepare yourself. 

“My siblings may not be able to claim you, but they’ll want a taste.”

You felt like your bones would break at the slightest squeeze. Your heart pitter-pattered like song birds singing in a bramble bush.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” you said under your breath.

“I won’t,” König assured you, “but they might. If you can prove your strength to them, they’ll be good to you when I marry you.”

“And if I don’t?”

König barked out a laugh, “I’d be lucky to get you back in one piece then.”

You curled into König’s side and shook like an aspen tree. He gently petted your sides and soothed you.

“You’ll make it,” he assured you, “I believe in you. You can be strong.”

“Why didn’t you tell her no?” you cried, “you could’ve protected me.”

“I couldn’t have,” König’s voice cracked, “it’s not my choice to make. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m only doing what I must,” he grit his teeth and shuddered, “I don’t get to make these choices.”

“Why do you let your mother do this to you?” you sobbed, “do you really love her that much?”

König laughed and fell back on the bed. He pulled you onto his chest and took you cheeks in his hands.

“I do,” he said, smiling despite the tears leaking out of his eyes, “I do and I hate myself for it.”

You dropped your head to his heaving chest and sobbed pitifully.

“Your mother…” you cried, “she’s… she’s…”

“She’s my mother,” König laughed again, “I love her, but I know I’m supposed to hate her. I know what she is, deep down. I see her for who she truly is.”

“And that is?”

“She’s just like me.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universe

Kidnapper!Konig

[its-all-clouds-in-this-noggin]

Fic Idea: Growing in the Sun’s Shadow

Hyacinth, larkspurs and irises grow in the presence of the sun as if following its shadow. Apollo’s children are deeply intimate with this fact, 

This is actually a multi-part fic series where hyacinth, larkspurs and irises spontaneously sprout around the Apollo kids during moments of emotional distress and imminent danger. I got real inspired by a few Apollo/Hyacinthus fics I read on Ao3 where Hyacinthus as a plant or ghost keeps an eye out for his lover's demigod kids.

Part 1 is about the kids themself and thus titled, His Children. The blurb goes sm like this (blurbs help me settle ideas so I have em for nearly everything)

Hyacinth, larkspurs and irises have seemingly followed in the footsteps of Apollo’s children for millennia. The flowers sprout at their feet in moments of emotional distress, more often than not the fear of imminent danger. 

It was in a way weirdly reassuring, that should they fall, a bed of flowers would be their grave.

The last bit is especially interesting imagery to me, imagine the Labrinth or Manhattan Battle just sprawled all around with flowers, its so beautiful yet grim. Also want to explore some thoughts about how the kids feel that flowers made from the blood of their dad's dead lover is more present in their life than their dad (to the point that one of the ways to identify an Apollo child is whether purple flowers grow around them).

Part 2 is about Apollo himself, specifically mortal Apollo (LESTER WHEN I GET YOU) titled Him and goes smth like this.

Apollo knew of the flowers that followed his kids, but never experienced it for himself, atleast not as a mortal till they sprouted around him through the cracks of a new york dumpster alleyway. 

Basically, this is TOA but every time smth bad happens to Lester (so all the time), flowers grow around him and how he and those around him react to it. This constant reminder of Hyacinthus' death, yet also of his love for him. Meg would be really interesting here, cause I think until she points it out, Apollo would def be working under the assumption that the flowers grow around him because he created them and are now haunting him in his guilt. But Meg who can feel the plants and pulls no punches would tell him that he's stupid cause these flowers are so full of love and longing for the former god.

Can you tell I love this pairing,

I have more tentative ideas for this, one being that Hyacinthus actually comes back to life. During the battle with Python (while still in the Cave of Delphi), the flowers grow all at once to shield Apollo from an attack and in this act the rest of Hyacinthus' spirit kept in the flowers dissipates, allowing him to finally be reborn.

And the story basically follows the reborn Hyacinthus as a modern-day teenager as he gets (re) embroiled in greek myths and meets Apollo again. Mostly its about how he feels trying to find an identity for himself, both as he was and as he is now.

No matter in this one or in another (previously posted about fic), I am having the guy come back to life. I'm a sucker for reincarnation stories of doomed lovers, there's something so interesting about loving and caring about someone so much not only do you tie yourselves together in this but the next as well.

Anyway, headcanons about reincarnated Hyacinthus.

+ I've dubbed him Cyn, short for Cynthia which is actually his middle name (his first is Hubert but he never felt like enough of a Hubert to use it). In universe I think Cynthia might be a grandma or smth, but really its cause Cynthia the Sinnoh champion is a historian and as the son of the Muse of History Clio, Cyn would be perfect as a reference to the full name.

+ The idea first came to me when the fanfic Would You Fall In Love With Me Again (https://archiveofourown.org/works/57144403/chapters/145343578) (a Hyacinthus comes back to life via golden fleece fic) used Cinthy as a nickname for him. Anyway if you need some Apollo/Hyacinthus fic this one is fantastic its from the perspective of the man back from the dead himself, absolutely brilliantly written 10/10.

+ I think it would be funny if he is a demigod son of Dionysus. It was either him or Demeter (cause ya know, spend a few millenium as a flower) and I think Mr. D would be the funniest option and I need to see more of him as a dad. (also purple eyes). I might not actually make him a demigod, though, maybe just a normal mortal but if he was...

I claw at more content of them, I love tragic lovers

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, use of a sex toy, praise kink, dominant!reader, submissive!Steve, smut, and NSFW.

Being pissed off at Steve, so you let him fuck you, but not in the way that he’s expecting…

He should be ashamed of himself, all 5’11 of him. With the stupid highlights in his overgrown, chocolate tresses, that new chain he wears around an even hairier chest, workouts he’s been keeping up with for over a year now, right down to every pair of pants that he owns always being tight around his crotch. His big feet, that jugular, those mossy eyes with fluttering lashes, every mole and freckle (man even has them in his ear), and his ginormous man paws. Steve Harrington is a damned sin, one that you’re going to hell for. As if that isn’t enough, girls couldn’t keep their fucking hands off him at the store, or anywhere, really.

He never flirted back, gave a smile of flattery, but kindly rebuffed. Today, however, it became your last straw. Watching him smile at a waitress who practically had her tits in his face, ignoring you entirely — you were seething by the time you got into the car. Steve’s teasing of your jealousy only made it worse in your mind. He wants to be so nice to women who want him, then he isn’t getting any of you… at all.

A devious plan forms quickly, and Steve has no clue what’s coming his way…

You’re both usually worked up from parties or nights out when it’s the weekend, so this is no different. However, you’ve got a plan in mind, and you’re ready to claim your boyfriend before he’s even able to turn the lock to his condo. Crowding his back against the door, you’re sucking, licking his chain up so that you can nose beneath it to give you room to mark him. He holds onto you tightly, grabbing your ass to grind you into his hardening cock. And when you kiss that spot at the corner of his mouth, he’s damn near kicking the door down to get you inside, and into his bed.

You’re honestly surprised that the two of you make it to his room. Clothes are torn off, Steve shredding your shirt right down the middle, ripping your bra cups to expose you, automatically grabbing greedy handfuls, your hand working his heavy cock between the two of you. You let him have his way, taking time to also work him so far up that his pupils have almost entirely encompassed his irises. But when he goes to help you onto the bed, more than ready, you shove him by his chest, watching his eyes widen as he bounces onto his back on the mattress.

“What’re you doing, honey? Fuck, get over here, please. You’ve been worked up all night, just let me take care —“

“Shut your mouth, Steve. After your flirtatious little displays and your slutty ensembles, I think I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

He starts to protest as you’re rifling through the bottom dresser drawer, pulling out lubrication and the toy that you’ve used in several instances to tease Steve, to get yourself off, and to bend him over. But never this…

“Baby, I wasn’t flirting. You know that. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He starts to raise himself, but you shake your head.

“I know this, Harrington. But you’ve got a girl so worked up lately, that she just needs to use her pretty little boyfriend to calm herself down.”

Steve’s lips quirk into a smirk as he folds his arms behind his head, plants his feet, and opens his legs, cock kicking as it slaps against his stomach, leaving a wet smear in his happy trail. Fucking jungle, all the way down his belly, covering his legs, even at the base of his monster python. You shake your head, walking back over so that he can see the toy clearly. He is expecting a show, most likely, but nothing prepares him for what happens next. You wiggle your fingers as you move beside.

“Up on your knees so we can put this on.”

His brows knit together in confusion, tongue poking at his cheek. “But, baby?” And he motions to his obviously hard shaft. “How…? What do you mean right now?”

“Safe word any time you need out. But if not, just do as I say and be good for me.”

Steve swallows rather harshly, too fucked out and horny to argue. He levels onto his knees and watches with a bemused enchantment as you adjust the harness a lot differently to your liking, before you help him into it. Once it’s secure, he’ll admit that it’s… strangely erotic. Sitting heavy above his own actual cock. You lubricate the faux shaft, bypassing his erection entirely.

It clicks in his head. He sputters over words as you knock your knees into a crawl between his spread thighs, one hand planting on his chest to push him back onto his back, straddling him, spare hand taking the dildo and beginning to jerk it off. He has no say, and zero stimulation. His brain is about to explode. He tried to convince himself that maybe you were teasing to warn, something, anything but what you’re getting in position to do.

His hands find your waist, squeezing tightly in support as you sink down the silicone, his poor cock only being stimulated by what drips from your cunt above, and the slap of your cheeks when you begin a rhythm. Steve won’t dare say a safe word, because he’s so hard watching you use the cock and not what’s attached to him — he can barely breathe. You’re spread open around the toy, cream dripping from your cunt with each crude thrust, though you give calculated movements, as to not go too hard on his dick below the attachment. You’re fucking using him, riding him like your life depends on it, and he can’t feel you, all he can do is whine, his cock starting to slap against your ass, leaking pathetically.

“Oh, honey. Baby, please fuck my cock. I’ll be so good for you from now on.”

You don’t oblige. Yet, he still doesn’t complain, despite being driven absolutely insane — as into this as you are. When you come, you feel him shiver, jaw twitching, tears at his lash line. He pets your spine as you collapse, coos you through it. “Wish I could’ve felt that. Bet it was a strong one, huh?”

You help him out of the messy toy, relaxing back onto his chest, peeking between his thighs at his swollen member, your hand drifting down to trace that vein that matches his forearm.

Maybe he’ll learn…

[thealternateuniverse]

T-shirt

Got 7 (python era because they all look magical in their comeback) x reader

Warnings: Mentioned of drugs, alcohol, and cursing | Also, I apologize for dragging your faves here 😭, it's for the plot.

word count: 6824 (kinda long)

You had been hanging around the boys for as long as you could remember, and somewhere along the way, you developed a silly infatuation with Mark.

But everything changed the day you returned the shirts you had borrowed—those same oversized shirts you always woke up in after crashing at their place.

-------

You jolted awake, immediately aware that the room was far too bright—strangely so, given that your room barely got any sunlight. Blinking against the light, you scanned your surroundings and were met with the all-too-familiar gray interior of Mark’s room. Great. You’d blacked out drunk again and somehow ended up here.

Perfect. Just perfect.

At this point, Mark was probably sick of you, always throwing yourself at him when you were wasted.

You searched for your things and sighed in relief when you saw them neatly placed on Mark’s nightstand—especially your phone. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

Last night had been a blast. Jackson had gone all out hosting the weekly frat party, even inviting the alumni. And Bambam? He had one simple job, to make sure you made it back to your dorm. Clearly, he’d failed miserably.

You sighed realizing you are wearing....probably one of Mark's shirt. How you changed, you have no idea.

You tiptoed your way out of Mark’s room, careful not to make a sound as you headed toward the living room. But the moment you stepped in, you froze.

Yugyeom.

Standing there, shirtless, his sweatpants dangerously hanging low on his waist, his tattoos on full display like they had a personal greeting just for you.

“Uhh… how bad was I last night?” you asked, bracing yourself for the inevitable humiliation. Whatever the damage was, you’d make a mental note to suffer over it later.

Yugyeom simply rolled his eyes and took a slow sip from his Pocari Sweat bottle.

Well… damn. That was kind of hot.

“Dunno,” he finally said, voice casual. “Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here.”

Trust Yugyeom to be his usual sassy self. Judging by how disheveled he looked, he was probably just as hungover as you. Another reminder to curse Jackson later for whatever lethal concoction he had served last night.

“That bad, huh,” you muttered.

Yugyeom scoffed. “Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad I wanted to dig my own grave because of secondhand embarassment.” He shook his head, as if physically cringing at the memory.

Your stomach dropped. Confession? Oh, no.

Mark already knew about your infatuation with him, of course he did. But what he actually thought or felt about it? That part remained a mystery. He’d always treated you like a little sister, though. Doted on you, looked out for you… and that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Damn it. He definitely saw you as nothing more than a kid sister.

You groaned, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow erase the embarrassment.

“So what? At least he knows I like him,” you said, forcing confidence into your voice. Own it. No regrets.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. “News flash—you're not his type.”

You wanted to cry.

Your head was pounding from the hangover, Yugyeom was ruthlessly crushing your delusions, and now you had yet another embarrassing confession to add to your growing list of regrets.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I hate you!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over.

Yugyeom barely spared you a glance, taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah, whatever, brat.”

"Probably why the girls always liked your brother." You snapped, crossing your arms.

"Because you're straight up mean and an ass, Yugie. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow. "

You spun around with a dramatic stomp, refusing to let violence win today, even though you were dying to kick him.

"I'd rather too if you're the last woman on earth. You're a whack anyway." He shouted, you intentionally slammed the door when you got out of their apartment and started the walk of shame to your dorm.

--------

You sighed for the hundredth time, gripping the paper bag tightly. Your friends had been pestering you all day, asking what was inside and why you weren’t your usual, enthusiastic self yapping about Mark. You had retreated to your room and sulked after Yugyeom rubbed it in your face that you weren’t Mark’s type and called you a brat. Then you had all the shirts you borrowed from him washed, ready to return them to Mark and maybe, just maybe, start moving on from your feelings for him.

"Oppa," you called out to Mark. He was talking to JB but excused himself to turn toward you.

"Y/N... are you okay now? You blacked out last Saturday." he asked, his voice filled with concern. You didn’t answer, only handing him the paper bag. He hesitated for a moment before taking it from you.

"Sorry for the trouble, and I guess I’ve gotten used to borrowing your shirts every weekend." You said scratching the back of your head.

Mark took a peek of the shirts inside the paper bag, confusion still over his face.

"Uhh.. well I don't mind the trouble, as long as you are safe. But these shirts are big enough to be mine. These are Yugie's."

Your jaw dropped.

What the actual fuck!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!! OPPA ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Your scream caught Mark off guard. Other students turned to look at the two of you, curiosity in their eyes.

How the hell had you ended up wearing Yugyeom’s shirts? It had been his T-shirts all along?

Mark chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"Well, he usually takes care of us when we’re too drunk. Doesn’t drink much himself, except for last night. Jackson made sure we all had hangovers."

More reason to beat the crap out of Jackson. But that could wait... first, you needed to deal with this minor inconvenience. You had always assumed the shirts you’d changed into whenever you crash at their apartment after parties were Mark’s, but now it turned out they were Yugyeom’s.

Turns out, even the room was Yugyeom’s! You always seemed to wake up in their apartment, but you’d never noticed it was his. Whether it was from a hangover or hunger, you were usually too out of it to pay attention.

"Oppa, I think I’m going to have a headache," you said dramatically, massaging your temples. Concern flashed across Mark’s face, but a smirk crept in when he realized what was really going on.

"You can ask Yugyeom. My job’s just to make sure I drop you guys off, then I’m off to my gi—"

Mark’s eyes widened, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. You grinned, piecing it all together.

"Oppa, you dating someone, don't you?" Surprisingly, you didn’t feel disappointed that Mark might like someone else. Instead, you felt a strange excitement bubbling up.

Mark tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck by lowering his head and scratching the back of his head.

Too bad it wasn’t Mark who was taking care of you when you were drunk—no, that little shit Yugyeom had to do it instead.

"And I think you like Yugyeom, you're just infatuated with me."

Your smile faltered, then dropped.

Yugyeom? Hell no! He’s straight-up evil. It’s like he exists just to make your life miserable.

You remembered how he’d always tease you back in elementary school, exposing your crushes to everyone. Not a single attractive trait about him.

"You're kidding, right?" You shot Mark a glare. He raised both his hands in surrender.

"A'ight. I'm just teasing you."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Great! Things turned out differently this time.

--------

"Man, Y/N is out again," Jackson said, shaking his head as he handed Mark another shot of Hennessy.

"Where is she?" Mark asked, scanning the room.

Yugyeom clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair to mask his irritation. Why did they keep inviting her to these parties, knowing damn well she couldn’t handle her liquor especially with the way Jackson and Johnny threw them?

"Yugie, you're not drinking tonight?" Youngjae offered him a glass, but he shook his head.

God, he wanted to get drunk. He’d had a few shots already, but he couldn’t let himself go past his limit.

"I'm good. I have class tomorrow." Lie.

He didn’t have any classes. His hyungs looked at him like he’d just grown a second head.

"Since when do you care about attending class?" JayB gave him a knowing look.

"Yugie, you've been sneaking out of the parties lately. What are you up to?"

Mark snorted, and Yugyeom shot his brother a glare.

"Nothing, hyung. Just not feeling it lately," Yugyeom mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Jackson raised a brow, not convinced. "Right. And it just happens to be every time Y/N is around?"

Yugyeom scoffed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. Her parents will kill him and Mark if they don't take care of her. "Coincidence."

"Yeah, sure." Mark chuckled, taking another shot. "So, where is she this time? Passed out in the bathroom? Dancing on the table?"

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his chest tightened. He hated how predictable this was. Every damn party, it was the same thing. Y/N drinking way past her limit, getting into trouble, and him like a fool watching from the shadows, pretending he didn’t care.

Johnny, who had just walked up, smirked. "Last I saw, she was out on the balcony with some guy. Looked pretty cozy."

Yugyeom's grip on his glass tightened. "Who?"

Johnny shrugged. "Some dude from the basketball team. Seemed harmless, but you know Y/N—"

Before he could finish, Yugyeom was already pushing past him, making his way toward the balcony. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there.

All he knew was that he had to get her out of here.

"Your brother is whipped." He managed to hear JayB before swimming in to the crowd

Yugyeom had been roaming around the house, searching for you, but to no avail. Every room, every hallway, even the bathrooms—nothing. It was as if you'd vanished.

Meanwhile, Y/N had already made your way back to where everyone was gathered.

"Have you seen Y/N yet?" Mark asked, noticing the sulk on Yugyeom's face.

Before anyone could answer, a familiar laugh rang through the air.

"There she is!"

All heads turned just in time to see you stumbling toward them, practically draped over Bambam like a human koala. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you clung to him as if he were your lifeline, making it nearly impossible for him to walk straight. The two of you wobbled forward, an amusing sight of chaos.

Jinyoung's brows furrowed as he took in the scene. "What the hell—where the hell have you been?" His voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation.

Bambam groaned, struggling to pry your arms off. "Hyung! Y/N is a handful," he whined before gesturing helplessly. "The gummies must have kicked in!"

"Where did you even get gummies?" Yugyeom asked, irritation lacing his tone.

"Jungkook," Bambam answered shortly before leaning back against the couch.

At that moment, her bloodshot eyes lit up as she spotted Mark. "Oh, Mark Oppa!" she slurred, stumbling toward him. Mark was quick to catch her before she could fall.

He steadied her and turned to everyone. "Let her ride out her high first, she's both drunk and high. How many did she take?" His eyes scanned her for any signs of injury.

Bambam shrugged. "I don’t know. She was already at it when I found her."

Mark sighed and carefully sat her down beside Yugyeom. Luckily, she was too high to cause any trouble just sitting there, completely spaced out.

Yugyeom's night wasn’t going as planned. Jackson was on a mission to make sure everyone was too drunk to go home or to attend class the next day. JayB sat quietly, zoning out. Jinyoung had already passed out. Youngjae had snuck off to leave before he got too drunk. Jackson was everywhere, shoving drinks down everyone’s throats. He came back dragging a drunk Minghao and Jaehyun behind him. Mark just watched in silence, but Yugyeom noticed he was barely holding it together.

Yugyeom could feel his eyelids getting heavy, his exhaustion and alcohol setting in. Meanwhile, Y/N, freshly off her high, challenged Jackson, claiming she could still handle more shots. But she kept knocking things over, clearly out of it. Yugyeom had to sit her down, restraining her from grabbing more drinks. In the end, he took her shots instead.

"Hyung, we need to get out of here." Yugyeom nudged Mark while holding a passed-out Y/N in his arms.

Mark nodded, draping Bambam’s arms around his neck so they could sneak out quietly. They didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Jackson. ---

"Yugie, it's already past Y/N’s curfew. She’s out cold there’s no way she can sneak back to her dorm," Mark said, glancing at the passed-out Y/N on Yugyeom’s lap.

Yugyeom’s head was pounding, the alcohol hitting him harder now. They had just dropped Bambam off.

"You can let her sleep in your room. You sleep in mine. Do anything stupid, you're dead," Mark warned, shooting him a sharp glare through the rearview mirror. It's always the same warning when Y/N had to crash in their flat during the weekend. Her parents will kill both of them if something happens to her. "Why, where are you going?" Yugyeom asked with curiosity, a grin spreading across his lips.

His brother shot him another glare, so Yugyeom quickly shut up. "You should be worried about me, Hyung," he muttered. Knowing Y/N, taking care of her when she’s drunk is like looking after a toddler, such a handful. Good thing she is out tonight.

Yugyeom shook his head, remembering he had to carry her all the way here. Damn, he was tipsy, and he prayed he’d make it to his room without falling over.

He groaned as he finally laid you down on his bed, collapsing onto the floor beside it. He was too dizzy to move. "Fuck." Y/N cursed

Yugyeom got up to check on you, surprised to find you awake. His eyes widened as he realized you were stripping your clothes off.

"Shit... what the hell are you doing?"

He immediately sprang up from the floor to stop you, but you were too stubborn.

Yugyeom cursed silently, his frustration growing. She'll never fucking touch another alcohol Just why am I the one who had to deal with this? Fucking gummies Fuck Jackson, Fuck Jungkook

Out of all the times, Nayeon Noona had to not be available now. She was the one who usually took care of this stuff. His duty was to drag or carry Y/N home, not deal with... well, this.

"Huh? Who TF—oh, Yugie," Y/N said, flashing him a sheepish smile.

"Y/N..." Yugyeom groaned in frustration. He walked over to the bed, gently trying to lay her back down. He wanted to sleep too, he’d had enough drinks to know a hangover was coming tomorrow.

But Y/N had other plans.

"It’s hot in here, Yugie. Where’s Mark Oppa? He’ll change my clothes." Y/N started scanning the room for Mark. When she didn’t see him, she pouted.

Yugyeom felt his ears burn. Since when did Mark change her clothes? It had always been Nayeon!

"Okay, I’ll get you a shirt, and you can change yourself, brat. No Mark tonight," he said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He walked over to his cabinet to grab a shirt. Luckily, he wasn’t running out of shirts just yet, most of them were still with Y/N, and she hadn’t bothered to return any of them.

Yugyeom turned around, holding out the shirt for her—only to freeze in place, cursing under his breath. "What the—?"

She was already naked, save for her underwear. His eyes widened in shock as Mark’s earlier warning echoed in his head.

"Goddamn it." Yugyeom groaned, quickly looking away as he walked toward her.

Yugyeom tossed the shirt, and it landed right on Y/N’s face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, exhaling a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Leaning back against his door, he muttered under his breath—

"Just what the fuck."

He and Mark had known Y/N since childhood. Back then, she was shy and timid, always clinging to them for protection. If they weren’t around, she’d inevitably get picked on by bullies.

But middle school changed everything. The once quiet and reserved Y/N was long gone. After being spoiled by Jackson, JB, and Jinyoung, she had turned into a complete brat—throwing fits whenever she didn’t get her way.

And her growing infatuation with Mark? It irritated the hell out of Yugyeom. Mark was too nice to reject her outright, always treating her like a younger sister. But Y/N? She saw things differently.

Yugyeom woke up with a pounding headache, the effects of last night’s drinking hitting him full force. He was still wearing the same shirt from the night before, his hair sticking out in every direction. Too exhausted to change, he had simply collapsed onto his brother’s bed.

Yugyeom froze. She was awake.

Slowly, he turned around to face her. Thankfully, she was wearing a shirt—his shirt. It was oversized on her, hanging loosely off her frame. He gulped. Damn, when did she start looking hot in my clothes? She always wore his shirts, so why did it feel different now?

"Dunno..." he answered casually, shaking off the thought. "Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here."

Y/N’s face twisted in disgust. "That bad, huh?"

Yugyeom scoffed. "Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad, I wanted to dig my own grave from secondhand embarrassment." He shook his head, physically cringing at the memory. Having to endure her slurred, love-struck confessions on the way to Mark’s car was pure torture.

Y/N, however, seemed unfazed. "So what? At least he knows I like him," she said with confidence.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. "News flash—you're not his type."

Y/N’s face turned red, and she shot him a glare. He knew he had struck a nerve. It was always the same—the fuming expression whenever things didn’t go her way.

"I hate you!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over.

Yugyeom wanted to tease her more, but he knew better than to entertain her tantrums. Instead, he barely spared her a glance, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah, whatever, brat."

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. "Probably why girls always liked your brother." She gave him a smug look before adding, "Because you're straight-up mean and an ass, Yugy. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow."

Yugyeom’s jaw clenched. He didn’t give a damn if girls preferred his brother over him. It wasn’t like he was interested in them anyway.

Y/N spun around with a dramatic stomp, storming out of the room. Yugyeom sighed, rubbing his temple. Between his pounding headache and Y/N’s tantrums, this morning was already a disaster.

"I'd rather too if you were the last woman on Earth. You’re wack anyway," he called after her, but the only response he got was the sound of the door slamming shut.

"Women!" he muttered in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair.

Not long after, the door creaked open again, but this time, it was Mark. His older brother looked just as disheveled, still wearing the same clothes from last night, holding paper bags in his hands.

Yugyeom blinked. "What the hell happened to you?" --------------------

Y/N’s laugh rang across the cafeteria, drawing attention to her and Mark. Whatever they were talking about must have been hilarious, judging by the way she leaned into him, grinning from ear to ear.

Jinyoung and Youngjae exchanged a glance.

"Y/N seems extra clingy today," Jackson commented, shaking his head before taking another sip of his smoothie.

Yugyeom furrowed his brows, watching the two of them curiously. Mark and Y/N had been inseparable since this morning, and for some reason, it was bothering him more than it should.

"Anyway, Jooheon’s throwing a party tonight for his birthday. Are you guys coming?"

God. Yugyeom had just recovered from the worst hangover last week, and now there was another party.

"I’m in if you guys are going," Youngjae said.

Jinyoung sighed. "I’ll go, but I’m not staying long. I don’t want another hangover. Last week was the worst—fuck you, Jackson." He shot the older boy a glare, but Jackson only laughed in response.

"I’m coming! Jooheon invited me earlier," a familiar voice chimed in.

They all turned to see Y/N, now settling into the seat beside, unfortunately—Yugyeom.

"Yeah, and we'll have to drag your ass back home when you're drunk," Yugyeom said dryly, rolling his eyes at Y/N.

But she didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, she turned to Mark and Jay B with a sweet smile.

"Oppa, you're going to drive me home, right?"

Yugyeom sat up straighter. Did she just ignore me?

Mark sighed. "Just don’t go over your limit, Y/N. Please?"

"Of course!" Y/N beamed.

Yugyeom scoffed under his breath. "Just what the hell."

"Yeah, so you don’t inconvenience us into driving you home," he snapped.

Y/N shot him a glare. "What’s up with you?"

"Nothing!" Yugyeom barked back, quickly gathering his things and walking out of the cafeteria.

For some reason, he was pissed today. Since when did Y/N start following his brother around like a lost puppy? He understood the obsession, but did she really think sticking to Mark all day would get her anywhere? ---------

"Slow down, Yugie. It’s not even midnight yet." Jungkook took the bottle from Yugyeom, eyeing him warily. His friend had been drinking like a madman all night.

Yugyeom didn’t understand what was wrong with him either. He’d been cranky all day.

"I’m good," he muttered, trying to sound convincing. But Jungkook clearly wasn’t buying it.

His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Y/N, who was laughing—no, flirting—with Wonwoo. His grip on the shot glass tightened.

Mingyu and Jungkook followed his line of sight before exchanging a knowing look.

"Tsk." Yugyeom clicked his tongue and downed another shot, drinking like it was his last night on earth, completely disregarding the inevitable hangover.

"You’re drinking like you’re heartbroken, Yugie," Bambam teased, completely oblivious to the daggers Yugyeom was mentally throwing at Wonwoo and Y/N.

"And I think I just figured out who broke your little heart." Mingyu grinned, glancing between Y/N and Yugyeom.

---------

You promised Mark and JB that you wouldn’t drink too much tonight. So, you made it your mission to interact and avoid alcohol as much as possible.

You arrived a little late but made sure to greet Jooheon and hand him your gift when you walked in.

"Y/N, my girl!" Jooheon embraced you warmly.

"Happy birthday, Heony," you said, returning the hug.

"Enjoy the night, girl. You look beautiful," Jooheon winked, making you blush at the compliment.

"Thanks! And happy birthday again."

Jooheon placed both hands on your shoulders and led you towards where the boys were hanging out.

"You might want to keep up. Yugyeom’s been drinking like there’s no tomorrow, and it’s not even midnight yet."

But you had sworn to keep your drinking in check tonight.

"Perfect. Thanks, Heon." You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Instead of diving into more alcohol, you grabbed a margarita. The plan was to avoid overindulging and stay busy by chatting with everyone. You decided to make a detour and joined Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Minghao.

"Mind if I join?" you announced, flashing a smile.

"Y/N, thank god. These two are boring me," Hoshi grinned, clearly relieved to have some fresh company. "What's up?" You asked, sitting down beside Wonwoo.

“Not much lately. Same old boring school stuff,” Minghao said, pulling out his phone to check something.

“Boo hoo. School is boring,” you teased, casually sipping your margarita.

Wonwoo glanced around, his gaze landing where JayB, Jackson, Jinyoung, and Mark usually were. “You’re at most of these parties. Surprised the boys aren’t hovering?”

You followed his gaze but didn’t spot them. They were either scattered or just keeping a low profile, not that they ever hovered, but they always made sure they could see you.

You chuckled. “Nah, I can go anywhere because of them.”

"And Yugyeom looks at me like he’s going to kill me later."

Your smile faltered. You’d been trying to push Yugyeom out of your mind these past few days. The shirts you took from him were still in your possession, Mark refused to take them when you tried returning them, they weren’t his so he basically told you to return it yourself to Yugyeom.

You and Yugyeom fought like cats and dogs daily, as if his sole purpose in life was to annoy you and ruin your day. Yet, somehow, he still looked after you. It didn’t make sense. He always seemed the least concerned, never missing a chance to call out every stupid thing you did yet there he was, always watching over you.

"What did I do?" Wonwoo asked, sounding offended. "Say he likes Y/N, and instead of joining him, he joins us? What will you feel if you are Yugyeom?"

What the hell? Likes you? More like he’s dying to kill you. First Mark, now Minghao. The idea was absurd. You couldn’t help but cackle.

"You guys are overanalyzing. What he feels toward me is pure hatred, mutual, by the way," you said, shaking your head.

"Wanna bet, Noona?"

Everyone turned at the sound of the new voice. Mingi.

Since when did he get here?

"Mingi, sneaking out again, huh?"

Mingi scratched the back of his head as he plopped down beside you. Being a freshman and the rowdiest one at that, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

"Don't tell anyone," he said with a grin. "Jooheon hyung invited me. His party’s way too lit to miss."

Mingi is the definition of chaotic energy wrapped in a freshman package. Along with his partners-in-crime, San and Beomgyu, he’s always at the center of the mess, loud, unpredictable, and effortlessly funny. Despite his wild antics, there’s an endearing charm to him, making it impossible to stay mad at him for too long.

To you, he’s like an annoying but lovable little brother, constantly trailing behind with his silly little crush. He doesn’t take it too seriously, but that doesn’t stop him from sticking around whenever he gets the chance. Whether it’s teasing, playfully pestering, or just showing up uninvited, Mingi has made it his personal mission to be wherever you are much to their amusement (and occasional frustration).

You glanced over at Yugyeom. He wasn’t looking in your direction anymore, but you caught the moment Jungkook took the bottle from his hand. Was he drunk already? Yugyeom rarely got drunk, his alcohol tolerance was impressively high.

"So, Noona? What do you think? Looks like Yugyeom hyung really likes you," Mingi said, leaning forward with his best attempt at puppy eyes.

You looked around at the others, all watching you expectantly. The attention made your cheeks warm, and you couldn’t help but blush.

"N-no, obviously we’d kill each other before that ever happened," you stammered, trying to hide your embarrassment.

But what Mingi did next caught you completely off guard.

“Oi! Mingi, you little shit! Why'd you kiss her?!”

Your eyes widened as you turned to see Minghao smacking Mingi, who seemed utterly unbothered. If anything, Mingi looked thrilled grinning ear to ear and bouncing in his seat like he’d just won the lottery. It was just a peck on your cheek but still, it caught you off guard. Your head immediately turned towards where Yugyeom is, but he's already gone. "You're so dead meat, Mingi." ----------

Your goal to stay sober? Success.

You’d had a few drinks here and there, but still being clear-headed at 2 AM was a win. Most of the night had been spent mingling, caught up in conversations rather than alcohol.

Still, you couldn’t shake the habit of glancing around, searching for any sign of Yugyeom. You hadn’t seen him since you were with Wonwoo and the others earlier, and for some reason, that nagging thought lingered.

“Good job!” you muttered to yourself, patting your own back while smiling like an idiot in front of the mirror. You headed to the restroom to touch up a bit.

"I’d tap Yugyeom. I wanna ride on his lap."

"Yeah, like, he's tall and everything."

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but these girls were loud enough to make it impossible not to hear.

Ride him, huh?

You pulled out your phone to message the group chat, hoping to get an update on Yugyeom, but the responses were slow—probably because the guys were all already too drunk. But why were you searching for Yugyeom? You weren’t sure, you just knew that you had to talk to him.

“He's pretty out of it. Some girl tried to make out with him earlier, but he accidentally knocked her over.”

For some reason, the thought made your blood boil. "Good luck riding him, then."

The girls turned towards you with a look of surprises on their face. But you only rolled her eyes and walked out of the restroom.

Now you really had to look for Yugyeom. ---------

It didn’t take long to find him mainly because they’d become the damn show in Jooheon’s pool. The chaos had taken over, and now Jooheon’s pool was flooded with drunk and half-naked students.

Yugyeom, Jungkook, Mingyu, and Jaehyun stood there, drenched. The only thing they were still wearing? Their pants. Obviously they're drunk.

“Kyum.” You called, sighing. The nickname felt strange on your tongue after not using it for so long.

Yugyeom turned towards you, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks flushed, clearly feeling the effects of too much alcohol.

“What?” he asked lazily, draping his shirt over his shoulders as he shifted his weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the fact that his half-naked form and his hair that's sticking everywhere was distracting you more than it should.

“Not having a good time? You don’t seem drunk,” he remarked, voice casual maybe a little too casual.

"I swore to Mark not to get wasted tonight."

He walked towards you, and what he did next completely caught you off guard. Yugyeom leaned forward, his face burying itself against your neck. Water still dripped from his hair, cascading down to your shoulders.

"Mark... blah blah blah. For once, can you stop talking about him?"

You weren’t sure how to react. What happened to him? Why was he suddenly acting like this?

"And don't even mention Mingi. I made sure to drown him earlier," he added, his breath warm against your neck.

"What? Are you even serious right now?"

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh. "Yeah? How dare he kiss you."

What the hell? So he did see that earlier?

"We seriously need to talk. Get a shirt or something, it’s cold," you said firmly, but Yugyeom didn’t budge.

"I’ll try… I’m too drunk, I guess?" He blinked, looking around, squinting as if trying to see past his dizziness.

"Okay, at least let’s get you inside and find you a shirt." You grabbed his arm, ready to guide him in. But the moment he took a step, Yugyeom stumbled.

"Oops. My bad." He giggled unapologetically.

"Y/N! And why are you still dry and sober?"

You barely had time to react before Mingyu clearly just as drunk grinned at you. Bambam and Jungkook trailed behind him, all of them looking suspiciously like they were up to no good.

You narrowed your eyes. "I’ll kidnap your friend for a while. You can have him back after we talk."

The three exchanged knowing looks. Definitely plotting something.

"Not gonna happen," Jungkook said, shaking his head before turning to Mingyu.

Sensing potential danger from these idiots, you instinctively stepped back. "I swear to God, I’m wearing heels, Jeon Jungkook. If you take another step, I will kill you with them."

But they didn’t look the least bit fazed.

"No killjoys tonight, Y/N."

Before you could protest, an arm wrapped around your waist. You barely had time to scream before gravity betrayed you—

SPLASH!

You hit the water. "What the fuck!!!! Just what the fuck!!!"

You screamed the moment you emerged from the water, sputtering as laughter erupted from the sidelines.

Jungkook, Bambam, and Mingyu were doubled over, finding the whole scene way too entertaining.

Before you could process your next move, an arm wrapped around your waist again. Instinctively, you swung, nearly throwing a punch—only to realize it was Yugyeom.

You immediately clung to him, your heart racing. Great. You had landed in the deeper part of the pool, where your feet couldn’t even touch the bottom.

"Just what the hell, Kyum?!" you snapped, exasperated.

He didn’t even look the least bit guilty.

"Oops?" he said, grinning.

"You dragged me in with you! I don’t have spare clothes, and I’m still wearing my heels!"

Yugyeom just chuckled, holding you effortlessly in the water. "Should’ve taken them off sooner, brat."

You were this close to dunking him under.

You didn’t realize how close you were until your breath hitched.

Yugyeom’s arm was still around your waist, holding you steady in the water. His bare skin was warm against your soaked clothes, the alcohol in his system making his grip a little looser, a little more relaxed.

Your mesh top clung to you like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The way Yugyeom’s gaze flickered downward before snapping back to your eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

Half-lidded from the alcohol, his dark eyes held something unreadable, something that made your stomach flip.

For once, he wasn’t teasing you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes or throwing snarky remarks.

He was just looking.

Your throat felt dry despite being surrounded by water.

"It's cold, we should get up," you said, quickly averting your gaze.

But Yugyeom’s grip on you tightened.

"I thought we were gonna talk. What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Your mind went blank.

What was it? Just moments ago, you had been so sure, so determined to get him alone and say something. But now, with the weight of his stare and the warmth of his body against yours, your words were stuck somewhere in your throat.

Yugyeom studied you closely, his voice quieter this time.

"And you haven’t called me Kyum in a long time��" He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching yours. "What is it now?"

You swallowed.

You could tell him. Right now.

Or you could do what you’ve always done, brush it off, pretend nothing’s changed.

Your fingers twitched against his shoulder. "It’s nothing," you mumbled.

Yugyeom let out a small scoff, but he didn’t let go. "Liar."

"Oi! The two of you, lovey-dovey there, huh? Done with your lover's quarrel?"

Jungkook’s voice rang out, followed by loud laughter from Mingyu and Bambam. You felt your face heat up not from the alcohol or the water, but from the way Yugyeom still hadn’t let go.

He didn’t even react to Jungkook’s teasing.

You expected him to roll his eyes, make some sarcastic remark, or at the very least push you away in annoyance like he always did. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stayed still, watching you.

For some reason, it wasn’t cold anymore.

"We should get out," you tried again, but your voice came out weaker this time.

Yugyeom hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Then go."

You frowned. "You're the one holding me."

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Am I?"

Your stomach flipped.

What the hell was up with him tonight?

"You're drunk. It's cold." You tried to reason, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit your wet skin.

Yugyeom only tightened his grip, his gaze unwavering. "Not until you tell me what you wanted to talk about."

You huffed, pressing your palms against his chest, trying to push him away, not too hard, though. "Kyum, not now."

His eyes flickered at the nickname again, his jaw clenching. "Then when?"

You fell silent, biting your lip.

Jungkook’s voice interrupted the tension. "Alright, alright, lovebirds. Enough of the eye-fucking. Get out before you both catch a cold."

Your breath hitched again.

"You tell me now, or I'm gonna fucking kiss you and cause a damn scene," Yugyeom said, his voice low and unwavering.

You turned sharply to look at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. His dark, half-lidded eyes held yours, challenging, no, daring you to say something. The water dripped from his hair, down his sharp jawline, and onto his bare shoulders.

"You're drunk," you repeated, but it came out weaker this time.

"And you're avoiding," he shot back.

This wasn’t the Yugyeom who always rolled his eyes at you, who constantly teased you like you were nothing but an annoying little sister. No, this Yugyeom was looking at you like he actually gave a damn.

You swallowed hard. "Kyum… stop it."

His lips twitched at the nickname, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he took a slow step toward you, water cascading off his body.

"Last chance," he warned, tilting his head slightly. "Tell me, or I’ll make sure everyone here knows exactly what’s been going on between us."

Your stomach flipped. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Yugyeom smirked, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t one of amusement—it was something else. Something dangerous.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Yugyeom let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his wet hair. He looked at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to hold something back.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Your frustration boiled over. "No, I fucking don’t! One second, you act like I’m the most annoying person on earth, and the next, you're pissed when I talk to someone else! You say you don’t care, but you always have something to say about what I do, who I’m with—"

"Because it drives me fucking insane, Y/N!" Yugyeom snapped, holing you closer. "Watching you throw yourself at my brother like he’s ever gonna see you the way you want him to. Watching you act like a spoiled brat because you know they’ll always give you what you want. Watching you flirt with guys who don’t deserve your attention."

You blinked, your breath caught in your throat. "What...?"

His chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides. Then, as if all the tension left him at once, he exhaled and chuckled bitterly.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The sounds of the party in the background felt miles away.

"Do you hate me, Yugyeom?" Your voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

His eyes snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering in them. Then he took one last step forward, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him despite the cold water.

"If I hated you," he murmured, voice dangerously low, "I wouldn't be losing my mind over you every damn day."

"So, the shirts..." You trailed off, everything finally clicking into place and believing Mark. The t-shirt, the room you’d assumed was Mark’s...

"Yes! Fuck me!" Yugyeom cut in, his voice filled with frustration. "It’s my room you were sleeping in when you were drunk, and it’s my fucking shirt you’re wearing. You look so damn hot in it, but it drives me crazy every time you think about it being Ma—"

He didn’t finish his sentence. You cut him off with a kiss, sealing his lips against yours. The sound of cursing from the boys and the cheers of those around you filled the air.

Yugyeom froze for a second before his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you in like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. The cheers and whistles from your friends faded into the background, drowned out by the rapid beating of your heart.

When you finally pulled away, slightly breathless, Yugyeom’s dazed expression made you chuckle. His hands still held you tightly, as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

"You—" he started, his voice hoarse, but you cut him off with a smirk.

"Thought you were gonna kiss me and cause a scene?" You teased, raising a brow.

He blinked, then let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a brat."

"You like it," you shot back playfully.

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, but the way his fingers traced circles on your waist told you everything you needed to know. Maybe he didn't hate you after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

"Oi! Disgusting! Get out of the water!"

"Yugyeom! What the hell are you two doing in there?!"

"Were they kissing?—Hey, Yugyeom! I swear to God, if you get out of that water..."

"Nice one, Y/N noona! Don’t drown me again, Yugyeom hyung!"

You can hear Mingyu, JayB, Jackson, and even Mingi shouting from the sidelines, but Yugyeom doesn’t care. He simply grabs the back of your neck and kisses you again.

" This Motherfucker" - Mark

Yugyeom didn’t even bother looking back at the chaotic mess of friends yelling from the sidelines. He just smirked against your lips, his grip firm as he pulled you even closer. The warmth of his body against the cold water sent shivers down your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or the way he kissed you like he had something to prove.

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered when you finally pulled away, your fingers curling into the wet strands of his hair.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, his thumb grazing your jawline. "And yet, you kissed me first."

You rolled your eyes, pushing against his chest. "Shut up, let's just get out of here before they actually drown us."

"Agreed," Yugyeom chuckled, finally letting you go, but not before throwing a glare toward the group of idiots watching like it was some drama premiere.

As you both waded out of the pool, soaking wet and dripping onto the pavement, the jeering only got worse.

"Yugyeom! I trusted you!" Mingyu feigned betrayal, clutching his chest.

"Yugyeom, you little shit, I knew it!" Jackson cackled.

"Just get a damn room!" JayB groaned, tossing a towel in your direction.

Yugyeom caught it effortlessly and draped it over your shoulders, his lips still curved into a smug grin. He leaned in, whispering against your ear, "I meant what I said. Let’s go somewhere else."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you. Instead, you scoffed, giving him a playful shove.

"Get me food first, and maybe I’ll think about it."

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head. "Brat."

And just like that, whatever tension had been lingering between you both had snapped into something else entirely.

[captainwinterrsoldierr]

Title: Peace

Jason Grace x Fem!Reader

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

You and Jason laid together on a hill overlooking the beautiful lake in New Rome. Your head laid in his lap, and his hands caressed your hair. You looked up at him and he had a soft smile on his lips. He sighed with content and happiness.

“Do you think Apollo will be back soon?” He asked with a tint of worry, he stared towards the lake. You had forgotten it had been a week since you’ve heard that Apollo defeated python. You had thought he would be well, transforming back into a god. You didn’t know how long that would take.

“Maybe? I’m sure he’s ok my love,” You responded. Jason nodded petting your hair.

“I just hope he keeps his promise,” he murmured. You propped yourself up to face him. You grabbed his face gently and turned him towards you.

“I think you made an impact on him, he seems… different now. You really got to him, especially since you defended him against,, you know who,” You said softly pointing towards the sky.

“I hope so, fighting Caligula was no easy task I’m just thankful we all came out unharmed,” He said.

You nodded and shivered at the thought of losing Jason. You can’t even fathom that idea. He was no,, is your entire world. Your eyes bounced around him. He was perfect to you. Caring, Sweet, Loving, Selfless, that’s all you could ever ask for.

Jason noticed you staring lovingly at him and turned a bright red, “you ok there hun?”

You smiled and nodded, “just appreciating the best boyfriend in the entire world.” His blue electric eyes stared affectionately into yours.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered leaning in. You closed the distance and pressed your lips softly against his. His hand danced its way being your head pushing you in for a deeper kiss. Your heart beated so fast, the same as it did when you first met.

This was the peace you both have so hoped for. Just being able to embrace each others presence and not worry about other troubles. The peace that you two can finally have… forever.

[mlmxreader]

Won't Do It Alone | Indiana Jones x gn!reader

『••✎••』

requested by anonymous

↳ ❝ Hi! Can I request “I don’t care if it’s unsafe, I’m going with you” with Indiana Jones please ? Just rewatched all the movies and now I gave brain rot, probably gonna send few other asks! :) ❞

: ̗̀➛ You can't let Indiana go alone on his next trip, but it's harder to convince him to actually allow you to go than anything else.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

spotlight fundraiser : ̗̀➛ Help Yasmine until she completes her treatment in Egypt

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Indiana grabbed his hat, and your stomach sank; he could never leave things alone, and you knew that wherever he was going, he would come back with more scars and callouses on his hands.

You frowned as you watched him pick up his coiled whip from the bedside table, and wished that you could say something to make him stay - but it would never be enough; nothing you could say would ever make him change his mind about going, and you knew that all too well.

It was the price you had to pay for being with him and being around him so often.

He stole a glance at you, smiling and raising his brows a little; wearing just a pair of boxers and one of his shirts, it was all too tempting for him to leave it for a few more hours. But he knew that it had to be done, and he straddled your waist as he cleared his throat and licked his lips.

"I won't be gone long," he said it almost as if it was a promise. "You can always kiss me better when I come back."

You signed as you put your hands on his bare chest. "Indy... don't go, please."

He shook his head, planting a kiss to your forehead. "I won't be long. Count on it."

You put one hand at the side of his neck, the other lacing in his hair. "I'm going with you."

Indiana shook his head again, his soft gaze quickly became a stern and cold glare. "No. It's no place for an ecologist."

"It's no place for an archaeologist with a phobia of snakes, either," you pointed out with a soft growl. "Let me come with you."

He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't risk it. Not you. He would risk anything, but not you. "No. It's unsafe."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" You hissed. "I don't care if it's unsafe, I'm going with you. Maybe then someone can convince you pythons aren't dangerous!"

He scoffed, looking you up and down rather shamelessly. "You're not quite dressed for it."

"Then get off of my lap," you told him. "And I will get dressed."

Indiana knew that there was no point in trying to keep arguing, he was running out of time to get ready and you weren't going to budge on your stance either; he got off of your lap, and didn't say a single word as he got dressed and packed his things for the trip.

He made sure to pack two of everything, considering that you were going with him and had no idea what you were getting yourself into; he supposed it was his own fault. He hated snakes, you loved them.

That fucking beast in the tank in the corner was evidence enough of that; its scales of brown and black and yellow made him feel sick, and that black flickering tongue with its brown eyes and mean expression made him want to run for a mile and keep going until he was certain he would never see it again.

He scowled when he caught its angular and stern gaze. Almost like it was telling him that if he allowed harm to come to its keeper, it would rip his throat out.

You came up behind him, and he flinched, thinking the beast had gotten him, until he realised and sighed.

"It's gonna be dangerous, and I mean it," he huffed. "Tell me you understand that."

"I do," you hummed, resting your chin on his shoulder. "I know what might be there, but I don't want you to do it alone."

Indiana sighed as he tapped your hands, letting them rest on the waistband of his belt as he swallowed thickly. "You might get hurt. I can't have that."

"Then trust me," you whispered. "Please. I've been your partner for so long... do you really think I'm not able to be trusted?"

He turned around, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look into those beautiful brown eyes; his gaze was warm, but stern as he focused your attention. "I do trust you. You know I do."

You out your hands on his, smiling as you licked your lips. "Then let me go with you. Trust me, I can handle it..."

He caved, and quickly stole one kiss.

Then another.

Then he was leading you back to the bed until you laid down and tugged him closer; he smiled, one arm above your head and the other beside your face as he kissed you deeply. You grabbed his hair, tugging it to beg for more; he chuckled under his breath when he heard you whimper after he pulled away. He licked his lips to savour yours, and cleared his throat.

"Not one comment about snakes," he warned. "And you're not bringing any back. You already have that... thing."

"What, Ace?" You laughed softly. "He's harmless!"

"He looks like he wants to eat me," Indiana grumbled. "I hate snakes."

You laughed again, pulling him in for another kiss. "So, when do we leave?"

"Now," he murmured, kissing you again. "Do you even know where we're going?"

"I don't really care," you whispered. "As long as I'm with you and I can keep you safe."

He wanted to sigh and to grumble about not needing it, and about how he knew that he would be trying to protect you the entire time, but the look in your eyes made him forget all about it as he hummed quietly.

"Madagascar."

You grinned, tilting your head to the side and tugging at his hair with excitement. "Madagascar? We might actually get the chance to see some hissing cockroaches up close! You know their behaviour is-"

"You're not bringing any home."

You huffed as you shrugged. "I tried."

Indiana nodded with a knowing smile. "You tried, baby, you tried."

You traced a hand down his chest, doing your best to at least seem convincing. "Are you sure?"

"Very."

"But Indy-"

"No roaches," he deadpanned. "Come on, we gotta hurry up."

[chronicowboy]

all you have to do is call my name (i'll be there)

There are thundering footsteps and then the owner of the voice pops around the corner and Eddie. Well, three things happen to Eddie simultaneously: his eyes bug out of his head, he chokes on his own saliva and he almost falls off his stool.

Eddie had heard a lot about Buck. Hen, Karen, Bobby, Athena, May, Carla, even Harry and Denny. They'd all sung the man's praises. He was kind and compassionate, driven and caring, helpful and loyal to a fault, a damn good cook and a cracking coffee dealer, he was, according to the kids, the coolest man alive too. So, Eddie had heard a lot about this mystery diner owner and he'd kind of curated a vague picture of him in his mind. Someone around Bobby's age or, quite possibly, looking very much like Bobby—although, he'll admit, May had corrected him on his assumption that Buck was Bobby's son (he just spoke about Buck so paternally).

Its safe to say, he's not expecting this. Because Buck is... Look, Eddie's never been all that attuned to hotness. Sure, he finds people beautiful. Attraction is different for him, though. He and his ex-wife had started hot and heavy because Shannon was confident and eager in a way that made Eddie's stomach flip. Of course, that had been their downfall in the end. But, the point is, he's not one of those guys who just looks at someone and is like woah. Until now apparently.

Because Buck is an Adonis of a man. And Eddie doesn't use that word lightly, but there's no other way to describe him. He's huge, six foot, definitely got an inch or two on Eddie himself who's a pretty big guy, and buff. So buff. His arms are like fucking pythons, specifically a python that's swallowed a football, and he's wearing a shirt that must be two sizes too small because it leaves nothing to the imagination. Seriously, nothing. Eddie can see his abs from where he sits, but that has nothing to do with the drool pooling in his mouth. He's all legs too. Like literally so much leg. When Eddie looks him up and down, he swears it takes him thirty seconds to reach the man's waist. And, if all that wasn't enough, he's wearing a fucking backwards baseball cap which Eddie didn't know was a Thing for him until right at this moment. It should probably make the guy look douche-y, but the blinding grin on the guy's face is too reminiscent of the way a golden retriever's tongue lolls out of its mouth to do anything but add to the effect of Buck.

Oh, fuck.

"Hey, what can I get you?" Buck asks, pulling a pencil from behind his ear.

"Uh..." Eddie's mouth is suddenly very, very dry. Buck purses his lips and ducks his head, blushing like he knows exactly what Eddie's thinking.

(OR: the gilmore girls au (from before i could be bothered to edit sorry 🫣))

[blind-radio-waves]

Do you mind if Echo is here? She didn't want to leave me alone.

It's fine, Host, don't worry. We love her.

Okay good.

Please state your name, pronouns and role on the MarkiplierTV team.

Uhm- Quill "The Host" Warfstache, He/Him and Ae/Are pronouns... I run a radio show branch off under the MarkiplierTV name.

Thank you for taking the time out to do this interview. For confidentiality, any questions you wanna skip will be cut from this footage. This is your time.

Oh! Uhm, alright. That's... That's good. I don't think I have to worry about anything currently but well! It's odd. I don't... I'm not in front of the camera often.

Radio show.

Exactly. This uhm- The whole eye thing kind of leaves me unwilling to be in front of the cameras often.

You'll be okay?

It's fine! We can do the questions. I've got my cat after all.

Alright then. Could you tell us how you identify?

Transmasculine, biromantic, demisexual.

Well you had that answer prepared.

I- Well I had to guess *some* of the questions that would get asked!

Rather specific too.

I've had awhile to figure everything out. Maybe things will change but, for now... those feel right.

When did you realize you felt differently about love than what people expected of you?

Oh god uhm... I didn't think I could for awhile. While I was Author actually, uhm...

You don't have to get into that bit if you don't want it.

No, it's important. I was him for a bit. It just... Can we take a second?

[Tape Cut]

Hooo, okay. Uhm. When I was the Author. I thought myself incapable of love at all. I had accepted that- it was a whole... thing. About him. But becoming the Host, I simply started to think I wasn't worthy of it. The one... singular shift was Mal. Before and after I became Host. I knew him as the Author for awhile, and sometimes I think Mal could have actually changed him, if he had only had more of a chance to.

I see why you needed a second, Quill, damn.

Hah- Yeah uhm... When I finally started letting myself feel things like that again, I never really thought about it being weird, not caring what gender the person I would maybe end up with would be. Besides- it had always been Mal. Always.

When did you realize you weren't the gender you were assigned at birth?

Oh very very early on. I was quite young- the Jims were easy help in that. I was... god I can't remember, it was so long ago now. I was ten I think. Don't quote me on that.

How long ago would that be for you now?

Oh easily 100 years now. I'm old as fuck.

PFFT-

Yeah don't ask questions about my age.

How do you feel about coming out so publicly, through a TV interview?

I don't mind it honestly- I talk often upon my experiences as trans on the radio show, so it's not like it's unknown in our fan base. If it is... how did you miss it? I'm not subtle. There's an entire episode from last year's pride where I went in depth on my transition journey and what my plan was.

Have you made any special bonds with other LGBTQIA+ members of the production team?

Absolutely! I'm married, for one, I got my siblings back, I have Zaza now... It's a lot, and it's all through the studio and Dark... I was given this chance again, and I love them all. Every single one of them are important to me, and I'm so happy to be here.

Is there anything you'd like to say to any LGBTQIA+ viewers watching this?

If what you think you are changes- that is perfectly fine. I thought I was aroace for genuinely years. Clearly, I was wrong. Or, rather, I wasn't wrong, but it just stopped being right. Scary, yes, but it will be okay. CJ will probably have more on this once you guys get to doing your own.

[CJ Laughs off-screen]

But even I had my own experiences. It's okay. No matter where you are or where you were- it was important. It mattered.

Any closing thoughts?

I don't think I have much more past this. Uhm.

[Host lifts his arm, and Nagini, an albino ball python, slides out of his sleeve and back up his arm but over his sleeve this time.]

Nagini says hi though. Thank you for having me.

Thank you for your time. Happy Pride Month!

-----

@you-are-watching-markipliertv

[oneknightstand-if]

So, uhhh, first ever message on tumblr, here's to hoping this is actually the place to post that stuff?

It's great, As a Game Master (mostly for rpgs on discord) I'm a big fan of the freedom of expression when it comes to characters. I just finished a run I'm pretty happy with, so I figured I should do as asked and share the results below.

(A word of warning, since I can only draw anime-style, this is now an anime.)

As a bonus, here's some design I doodled up for the character, to help myself visualize her.

Additional Data:

Adrian: Crush Merlin: To Befriend Pet: Cat (Roland)(Like the Paladin of Charlemagne) Wears: Frilly blouse and long skirt (She started wearing those to get reactions out of Adrian while avoiding more extreme outfits) Camelot Sequence: Lucid dreamer, talked to Merlin in the past (monty python reference to prove she's from the future), got directed to Arthur, asked Past!Arthur about lucid dreaming, Caught Current!Arthur about Lucid Dreaming (He now knows who she is), then spilled all the beans to Merlin after waking up (He knows who she is). Items: Magic 8-Ball, Cat memento, pouch of pearls, miniature garden (Audrey III!) Gas Station: Followed Merlin, Destroy Cameras, Clean traces, Get matches.

And now, for the wall of texts that nobody asked for but that you're all getting anyway!

Character Design

The design I went with was 'the super sussy character who actually is kinda hiding the least'.

Physically, she's basically hopeless, with her teeny tiny 10% on physical, which puts her firmly into the 'dead weight' category. Considering what's going on in here, it's a bit sus.

Even more sus is the amnesia background, because here's that girl popping out of seemingly nowhere with no memories right around the time the failed Lesser Circle happened, who just so happens to be a potential harbinger? Sus.

Appearance wise, her best features are her eyes (my dice determined they should be violet), but they are downturned (Tareme) ones, that usually express either gentleness, or belong to suspicious people, with a gentle, caring and overall traditionally feminine/motherly behavior (wears frilly outfits, cooks gourmet food, tends to her (mutant) plants). In other words, she's very much an 'ara ara'-type character. (The cuckoo is mostly limited to the confines of her mind).

However, she is an imposter whose special move consists of spilling all the tea (ironic, her favourite drink is Jasmine…), all the time. Had a weird dream (Part 1)? Write a report and drop it on Adrian's lap, almost shoving the marked arm under his nose. Freak encounter in a horse trailer? Write a report and drop it on the club leader's lap. Meet a strange but weirdly helpful stranger? Drop the Weird dream Dossier (part 1) on his lap. Questions about the self medication? Ha! She's got her entire (albeit short) life written in a folder ready for perusal! Had a weird dream (Part 2)? You better bet she's writing it down and dropping it on Merlin and Adrian's laps.

…

This is probably a side-effect of being overworked all the time and getting in the habit of making biology reports for everything, isn't it?

IC Thoughts on characters:

Merlin: Super strong incubus who may or may not be the actual Antichrist, may or may not want to cause the Apocalypse themselves to put humanity out of their misery if the Arthur plan doesn't pan out, and yet may very well be the most trustworthy person in this entire group, if only because waking Arthur up seems to be their number 1 priority. After all, all they needed to do was stand aside and do nothing if they wanted the Lesser Circle to fail, right?

Adrian: 'Friend' for several years, eventually got a crush on him a few months ago, but his ambiguous way of almost-but-not-quite friendzoning her is beginning to wear her down. Slightly suspicious due to his being much too prepared for the crisis at hand for a random bystander, but he had all the opportunities in the world to get rid of/corrupt her in all the years they knew each other, and she herself has this 'tiny' Impostor secret going on so she's trusting him so far.

IC thoughts about the adventure: 4 (Reluctant/panicking, but not forced)

What is there to be said. The end of the world, man-eating monsters, plagues, the end of the world, homicides, abductions, did she forget to mention the end of the world? For a woman with little inclination toward physical fighting and who would rather read a book in a corner, this is very much outside of her field of competence.

With that said, she almost got eaten by the monster under her bed and Merlin healed her when she was at Death's Doors, so she's giving them the benefit of doubt, for now.

Character affinities:

Probably Percival (cuckoo connection), Arthur (dream shenanigans) or Broderick (this entire thing is crazy!) would work best?

Here's to hoping this didn't get too long, I tend to get too verbose when I become enthusiastic about something.

It's impossible to be too verbose, especially compared to me. Also, my imagination runs in 4K surround-sound anime-style, so it was anime all along! Olwen fits in perfectly!

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Second Chances

Beetlejuice x Lydia Deetz

Chapter 1 Link

(Beetlejuice Beetlejuice spoilers⚠️)

Chapter 6

“I killed you twice! How do you keep coming back?!” Yelled Betelgeuse as he, Lydia, and Astrid made their way down the stairs.

“When you want revenge anything is possible.” Delores answered in her heavy Italian accent. From behind her Samantha appeared.

“I’m sorry Astrid.” She whimpered, her makeup smudged like she had been crying.

“What did you do?!” Astrid questioned her.

“We had a seance and she appeared asking for someone named Betelgeuse.” She explained in a small voice. At the sound of his name, Betelgeuse shrieked and covered his head. “Don’t say that!”

“Just get out of here Sam!” Astrid ordered her. “She killed them Astrid…” The young girl told her. “What?!” Astrid couldn’t believe it. Only a few weeks ago she had seen the Samantha and her friends walking around town, now they were dead.

“Go! Hurry!” Astrid insisted. She nodded her head and turned to run, but Delores grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

“I don’t think so.” She pulled the girl close and began stealing her soul. You could see it in the air as it slowly left her body. “No!” Astrid screamed as Delores dropped Samantha’s shrunken body onto the ground. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Samantha and her friends always bullied her, but she never wanted them to die like that.

Delores turned back to Betelgeuse and took a step forward, her arms outstretched. “Come here, darling. Give me a kiss.”

Lydia stepped forward in front of Betelgeuse. “No fucking way!” Betelgeuse’s lips curled into a proud smile and tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t believe she was actually defending him.

“You! I know who you are. You are the woman my husband thinks he is in love with.” Delores said, pointing at Lydia.

“I ain’t in love with you! You killed me remember?” Betelgeuse shot back.

“Yes, but you killed me before I got what I wanted and nothing is going to stop me from getting it now.” She declared, taking another step forward.

“No you’re not!” Lydia shouted standing her ground even though Delores did intimidate her a little. Astrid stepped forward as well.

“You know you’re beginning to bug me.” Delores glared at Lydia and with a wave of her hand she sent her flying across the room and into the wall.

“Lydia!” Betelgeuse cried as he watched her slide down the wall and onto the floor, lying there unconscious.

“Astrid, go help your mom! I’ll take care of her.” He told Astrid, turning to Delores his eyes flashing dangerously at his ex wife.

“Two can play at this game.” He growled, snapping his fingers making two black and white striped pythons appear and wrap themselves around her legs, quickly slithering their way up towards her neck hissing loudly at her as they went. She didn’t appear frightened in the least, instead she pulled them off of her and tossed them into the air, turning them into hawks instead.

“Get them!” She ordered them sending them in Lydia and Astrid’s direction. Betelgeuse waved his hand once more making a bolt of lightning shoot through window striking both the birds dead.

This wasn’t working, Betelgeuse thought. He had to figure out a way to get rid of her once and for all. Chopping her up and having her get eaten by the sandworm didn’t work. What would?

His looked around the room for something, anything that might help him defeat her. His eyes fell upon the fireplace. He smiled. Fire! That’s it!

Suddenly, the fireplace lit up with bright green flames. “There’s only one way to get rid of a witch like you. Burn em.” He retorted sending a fireball in her direction. It missed her by mere inches crashing into the wall beside them instead. Quickly the fire spread across the wall and up the curtains.

He sent another one flying her way, but she dodged that too, then another, and soon the whole room was alight with flames. “Oh come on!” He groaned, punching the air in disgust.

“Enough!” Delores uttered pushing her hands towards him, there was a loud bang, and Betelgeuse was knocked off his feet. He sat up, letting out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Maybe he should just let her take his soul and get it over with? He thought feeling hopeless. No, then she would just move on to someone else probably Lydia and Astrid. He had to end this, but how?

Betelgeuse looked up at the ceiling praying for an answer. He noticed the beams beginning to snap and more of the second floor becoming exposed with each passing second. Thats when it hit him. If this didn’t work, he didn’t know what would, but it was worth a shot.

“BJ! We have to get out of here.” Astrid called out, her voice sounding muffled and distant. He looked over at her and shook his head. From his expression she could tell just what he was thinking.

“No! No! You can’t!” She pleaded, tears streaming down her face. Betelgeuse gave her one of his usual smiles, the ones he usually gets when he’s planning on doing something mischievous, and winked at her. Before she could say anything else, he snapped his fingers making her and Lydia disappear.

He slowly rose up from the floor, dusting himself off. Betelgeuse and Delores now stood face to face in the center of the room. “Now, you are mine.” She spoke in a low triumphant voice, leaning towards him.

“I will never be yours, but we started this together and now we’re gonna finish it together. Arrivederci bitch!” Her eyes widened looking both confused and frightened as Betelgeuse took her in his arms and kissed her. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her go. She wanted to scream, but his lips were pressed hard against her’s. It was like time had slowed down as little by little the house fell down around them, the wood creaked loudly like it was letting out one final scream, and then collapsed.

Lydia and Astrid watched on the lawn as what was left on their house went up in flames, reduced to nothing, gone along with Betelgeuse. They stood there in silence, holding each other.

Clouds appeared overhead but instead of snow, it brought a heavy rain. Before long the flames had died out, leaving nothing but ashes behind. Lydia got up and ran over towards the pile of charred wood that was once the ghost house. Desperately she searched for Betelgeuse throwing aside anything that got in her way.

“Where is he?!”

“He’s gone, mom.” Astrid put her hand on her mother’s shoulder trying to comfort her.

“He can’t be!” She sobbed pushing aside another board. Underneath, she spotted something with black and white stripes and picked it up. It was his jacket. It was a little burnt, but still remained intact. She held it close for a moment thinking about him.

Maybe if she called him? That always worked, she thought. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” She waited and looked around, but there was nothing. She half expected to hear his voice call out, saying something like “Gotcha didn’t I?” but he didn’t. He was gone.

She was about to give up when Astrid called her attention to something lying on the grass across from them. She could just make out the hints of green in his hair in the dark.

They quickly darted towards him hoping he was all right. They saw that he had several cuts across his face and his shirt was torn in several places. “BJ?” Lydia whispered, gently pushing the hair out of his face. He remained quiet and motionless.

“Betelgeuse?” Nothing.

Astrid placed her hand over her mouth.

“This isn’t funny. Wake up.” Lydia implored her voice cracking, nudging him. Still nothing.

Astrid was right. He’s gone, this time for good. She could feel her heart ache the longer she looked at him. Seeing him like this felt so wrong. He always had so much energy, so much life. Did Delores steal his soul? She wondered, holding his hand. For so many years she feared his return and now she can’t picture life without him. She never even got to tell him how she really felt.

Carefully, she leaned over him, their faces so close that if he could breathe she would feel it, instead all she could feel was the cold dampness coming up from the ground. “I love you Betelgeuse.” She spoke in a soft voice, hoping that somehow, somewhere he would hear her. Then she placed her lips gently upon his, lingering there for a few seconds before turning away and closing her eyes, unable to look at him for another second.

“Lyds?” A familiar voice spoke. A voice that wasn’t her’s or Astrid’s. She opened her eyes and saw Betelgeuse looking up at her, only he looked different than he had a couple minutes ago. He had messy blonde hair, blue eyes, and was no longer pale and dead looking with mold all over him. Did true love’s kiss work after all?

She let out a gasp and pulled him into a hug. “I thought I lost you.” She cried into his shoulder.

“It’d take a lot more than that to get rid of me babes.” She noticed her voice wasn’t as gruff as it used to be.

Slowly they got up off the ground, still holding on to each other. Lydia took a moment to examine his features. Betelgeuse felt his cheeks becoming hot under her gaze. “Whatddya think?” He asked nervously. She tilted her head and gently stroked the side of his face. He leaned into her hand and placed a quick kiss on her palm.

“Does this mean you’re mortal again?” She asked.

“I think so. There’s one way to find out.” Lydia immediately caught on to what he meant. She was hesitant at first. She didn’t want him to go.

“It’ll be ok.” He assured her. She quickly looked at Astrid, who gave her a slight nod to continue.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice…” They all held their breath as she spoke it one more time. “Beetlejuice.” Nothing happened. He didn’t disappear or change. It was finally over.

He let out a sigh of relief. No longer would he disappear if someone said his name too many times and he was going to test that even further with Lydia later. Right now, he would settle for another kiss. One he would actually be awake for.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Lydia could feel blush forming on her face as they stared into each other’s eyes. “I love you.” He told her, planting a kiss on her lips. His lips felt just as soft as they did the first time she kissed him, only warmer. Lydia slowly ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, deepening the kiss. He let out a soft moan as she did so. How long he waited for this moment to finally be able to kiss her.

Astrid suddenly felt awkward and looked away, fiddling with her phone instead trying to let them have their moment. They deserved it after all. Finally Betelgeuse and Lydia had their happy ending.

“Wanna get hitched babe?” Betelgeuse asked when they had to stop for air. Lydia chuckled and kissed him again. Same old Betelgeuse. “Hell yeah!”

the end

(tag list: @msshadows97 )

[cranialisotope]

it's him! my true, honest-to-god blorbo!

Dallas is a very special little guy, he's both the exact image of my gender envy and my personal punching bag/angst-machine. mwah. i love you

if you want to listen to a song i think represents him well, listen to Kerosene by Kiltro.

(text in image under the cut)

Meet Dallas!

full name: Dallas Ivan Terzic

Born and raised in Dayton, OH

age: 35 (Dec 2)

height: 5'3"

eyes: Green

Went through the Ohio state care system, & got into the drug trade. :(

Got clean & moved to New York City to find a tattooing mentor. Is now certified, but financially stranded.

Owned 3 tarantulas and a ball python years ago. Her name was Tiramisu!

Carlo's second-best buddy. Richard's nemesis (it's one-sided).

full of terrible memories (sorry, pal.) —> (arrow pointing to his head)

full of artistic talent —> (arrow pointing to his hand)

[palesweetscherryblossom]

I finally got out of exam stress so I have plenty time to make your ideas come true!

(Feat. Ball python Mon & Mothmura & Monster fucker Dabi & kidnapped Izuku)

Tomura grumbled as he flapped his white wings while yawning and looking down at the little child against his chest. His mate laid all across the nest with his limbs spread away from him while lightly snoring. His mate was so attractive. He purred as he lowered his face against the little child against his fluffy chest and in his arms. He kissed the little one's freckled face.

He was so happy he somehow managed to get the little one. And now he wasn't afraid if them anymore. He even cuddled with both of them or stayed close to Dabi when it was time for food. His crimson eyes fell onto their cute face as he used one of his small claws to poke his squishy cheeks. They were as round and ripe as apples in autumn.

His whole body just vibrated for a second due to his happiness but also to warm his little baby up. His antenna moved from one side to the other as he inspected the little one before he started to lick his hair into place and make sure he looked very neat and clean. He was so happy when he smelled his little cinnamon bun of happiness and warmth.

He soon felt something against his abdomen and stopped his chore of taking care of his little one. Though as soon as he looked back, his heart melted when he saw his mate hugging his abdomen and absorbing its warmth and touching the fluffy fur. This mate the other squeak with happiness and affection. He gently placed his baby down into the nest and wrapped his little one up with multiple blankets.

His body turned to his mate as he licked his head now and squeaked happily while paying attention to his lover. He was so happy as he watched his face light up and move upwards to kiss his lips. His mate gave him a small squeak. It amused Tomura that Toya tried his best to squeak accordingly... though it was not as bad anymore. Now his squeak actually meant affection. "Mhm Dabi," he whispered to him in human tongue. "I love you," he added and was almost surprised when he was pulled into a gentle hug and kissed again. He loved the other so much.

"Come here Tomura," he whispered. He knew his name was actually a combination of squeaks... but he combined the meaning of squeak and put it into human language. "Tonura" meaning "loss" "suffering" and "mourning" but also "death" in some accents. But Dabi loved his deadly squeaker as much as he physically and humanly could.

"So what is your plan?" He asked as he kissed his fluffy chest now. He was so beautiful and warm.... and so damn gorgeous. The perfect man... even if he was a moth.

Awww!

Parental Shigadabi they can never make me hate you!

Mon just wants snuggles which is understandable lol. He deserves it after dealing with the horrific fate of looking at Kotatro.

I imagine that Mon also acts as some sort of protector of Tomura’s domain. Going from tiny noodle bby to big and long noodle.

[samthequeer81]

First fic! Kirishima x M!snake hybrid kid reader. 😊

When you were younger, you were always different because you were a snake hybrid. No shelter wanted you, leaving you in the streets. Many abused you and didn't take care of you the way you needed because "you were to difficult to care for" people had always told you and others. So that's how you found yourself here. In a old, run down, bad shelter, not even they want you here. You sat on a heating pad as curled into a ball to sleep another day away. Other children and adults of many different hybrid species played around you as you were in the public room. Humans and other power filled apex hybrids came in to play with them, ignoring or even cowering away from you even though you were sleeping. Its because Im a snake people dont want me. That's what other kids had told you and you believed it. The sound of the bell never got your attention anymore so you didn't bother looking up when you heard someone enter the room, or did someone leave? Who are you to care? Until you heard a voice right in front of you.

"Wow..."

a red hair boy walked up to you. His Crimson eyes bore into yours, practically looking into your soul, but not in a creepy or disturbing way? Maybe? It looked kind, An expression you weren't familiar with.

"you have a tail, with scales. By any chance are you a snake hybrid? Those are very rare."

the boy said with a smile. You just look at him like he's stupid. Honestly, you were scared, nervous and very confused on why he was talking to you, saying you were "rare." Kirishima looks confused now.

"did I do something wrong? Your not answering me..? Are you mute or something? Or did I make you upset? Im sorry of I did"

The boy started mumbling apologies as he tried to figure out why you weren't responding. He eventually got up and left. Only moments later he returns the his original shit eating grin he had when he originally walked in

"so I talked to a worker and they said they said they have never heard you talk. Why is that? Can you talk? All I need is a head shake or nod to know"

The boy said with a polite smile. He was being very kind and patient with you, something your not used to. You decided to get over your fear and speak for once in however long.

"yes.. I can talk" you hiss out quietly, barely able to hear it. Kirishima smiles widely, giving you a proud look

"You can? That's awesome!" He sat down next to you "My name is kirishima. Eijiro kirishima. What's your name?" you dont respond immediately

"My name is Y/N.. You can call me whatever you want though.."

Kirishima gives you a kind smile

"That's a pretty name. I've got to say though, I've never been one to be interested in snake but wow, your scales are stunning. Do you know what kind of snake hybrid you are?!" kirishima asked with pure excitement

"Im a (insert favorite ball python)". ((For the sake of simplicity Im going with banana Python))

"wow. I've never heard of it." He pauses "say. Would you like to come home with me? I know it may seem sudden but, I've taken an interest to you, something about you makes me want to have you around"

THE END OF PART 1.

https://www.tumblr.com/samthequeer81/748783149237010432/kirishima-x-snakehybrid-reader?source=share link to part two!