#feat. dream and nightmare

[wishing-stones]

Dreamtale is a Trans Allegory

No, I will not take criticism. Essay ahead.

So on the surface, this is just a heartbreaking story of two brothers driven apart by the horrible nature of people who fear what they don't understand, right? Sad already.

But after picking it apart last night (and with a little input from a friend) I realized that the entire story can be seen as an allegory for transness. Let's examine this a little more closely.

From the jump, Dream is the golden child. He can do no wrong. Nightmare is the social pariah because he is different, he represents something people don't like, and if people both don't understand something and fear it, they tend to hate it rather than learn to accept it as it is. (You can already see where I'm going with this.) By contrast, Dream conforms. He is welcomed and accepted because he does what people want and is how people want him to be. This begins to drive a rift between the brothers; why can't Dream advocate his brother to the villagers? Why can't Nightmare just pretend to be nice, put on a mask for them?

This eventually comes to a boiling point when Nightmare, trying to defend his heritage, the person (tree) that made him who he is, as well as trying to defend himself, is struck down because people couldn't understand him, and that turned into fear and hatred. So, to protect himself, and to try and protect what was left of everything he knew, he transitioned. And he became what everyone painted him as. Evil. Mean. The bad guy. The different one.

Enter Dream, the golden child. He tries to talk his brother down, refuses to acknowledge the new Nightmare, and vows to "fix him." Nightmare Does Not Take This Well. If he can take away that last little spark of goodness (normality/conformity) in Dream, then maybe he'll see what it's like to be the outcast.

Obviously this doesn't pan out well for either of them, but after 500 years of Nightmare learning to accept who he is, build his self-confidence as that new person, and accept the consequences of his catastrophic blowup (massive falling out/no-contact family sweep) he's a little more stable. He has a home. He has underlings who understand him and accept him for who he is (found family) and wouldn't have him any other way.

When Dream shows up to try and "get his brother back" (force Nightmare back into who he used to be) things get catastrophically worse. Nightmare isn't that person and can never be him again. He accepts who he is - why can't Dream? It's not like he stoped being Dream's sibling, he just isn't the meek little bookworm anymore. Dream tries and tries and tries, but to no avail. And Nightmare hates him for it. Nightmare hates that he's trying to shove him back into that box (conformity) and will not have it.

From Dream's side, it's having to come to terms with the fact that a family member has changed so much. He could also be seen as the closeted case, since he put so much effort into making people happy (conforming) and putting the needs of others before himself. He failed to see the issues his brother had because he was too busy trying to make himself acceptable and fix everyone else's problems. If he ignored his problems, his feelings, they'd go away eventually, right? Wrong.

Dream tries to fit Nightmare into that box of his bookwormish, quiet twin again, partially because he misses what they had, but also because this frightens him. Nightmare's change and acceptance of that change is something that Dream struggles with because it's so different from everything he knew. He sees change like this as bad because he's so steeped in trying to make things right (colored perspective/internalized transphobia) that he can't see that... the brother he remembers is still a part of who Nightmare is. He still likes his books. He's still fairly quiet and withdrawn. He still likes learning (and being an insufferable know-it-all sometimes) and a bunch of other things that make him... him. But because the outside has changed, Dream has trouble seeing that the inside, the core personality and foundations are roughly the same.

And, if you're like me and like to see this resolved, Dream has to come to terms with this eventually, and learn to accept that... this is just how Nightmare is now. It's still his brother, he's just different and can't ever be the way he was again. People change as they grow, Nightmare just changed in a way that made it difficult for Dream to see and accept at first.

With that acceptance, Dream can also finally accept that he, too, has changed, and isn't the same as he was before, and it's okay to celebrate that and surround yourself with people who will similarly celebrate your growth and achievements.

Tried to to hit people over the head with things here, but yeah. Pry this from my cold, dead hands. Also they're both NBtM Trans. Fight me.

[eluriart]

Siblings, am I right ?

Dream & Nightmare belong to joku

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVENTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, degrading, mentions of death/blood, dove is called some nasty words, please heed warnings for this chapter masterlist a/n: girlbossed a little too hard and finished the chapter a day early. posting this after my 14 hour shift with nothing but hope and dreams. this chapter is a long one, i think the longest one so far, so have fun :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Up close, Graves was even more sinister than imagined. It was as if you were living in your own nightmare come to life, with beady eyes crinkling back at you as a curled smile stretched over his face. Adorned in all black from head to toe, with the only spouts of color being the mess of dark blonde atop his head, nearly covered by the old, leather pirate hat.

His skin was deathly pale, a feat you knew to be from his reaping sins. To take a life in return for a piece of his—a soul bind.

If he weren’t such a sick man, you’d dare say he’d been handsome, if it weren’t for the look of rotting to the core. His personality did no justice, something cocky and mighty. He knew exactly how to play his game, and he played it well.

In your turmoil, you dared to wonder if all of this was indeed another nightmare. Perhaps you were still asleep, stuck in an endless loop until Soap or Gaz awoke you as they always did; but with a sharp pinch on your thigh beneath the thin covers of Price’s bedspread, the world remained at ease.

This one wouldn’t be easy to get out of.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Graves mused, smile so wide you worried the corners would crack and bleed. You wished you could see him writhe like a helpless roach beneath your shoe. “Why the long face?”

“How—” You swallowed, fisting the sheets. “How are you here?”

Graves stood straight, glancing around the room. He pretended to ponder, holding his arms up to shrug. “I let myself in.”

Your eyes followed his every move as he slowly stepped throughout Price’s quarters, taking it in. You sat as still as a statue, completely frozen in place. The sound of his heavy boots along the wood floors rang alarm bells.

The air in the room fell icy cold, rising goosebumps on your skin. There was that frigid chill that felt as if you’d just stepped into a slaughterhouse, a hint of decay tickling your nostrils.

This was the feel of death you’d always felt, lingering behind you, watching. He’d always been there, even if only in your mind.

“Where is the Captain?” you asked, attempting to make your voice firm. Show no weakness—it was the very thing you’d been taught since your first day on the ship. You hoped Price would be proud that you remembered.

Graves’ eyebrows raised and while his smile remained, it only seemed to glimmer with excitement when the question was asked, as if you asked a dog if he wanted a bone.

“He truly has you on a leash,” he snickered, finding something amusing in all of it. “You’re like their little bitch, aren’t you?”

Your blood ran hot at the demeaning nature his words brought, but you knew better. They were for show, something to make him appear taller. If you fell for it, you’d only be digging a deeper grave for yourself.

“No,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I am a pirate, just as them.”

Graves barked out a laugh, one that made your ears bleed. It was meant to deplete your confidence, poisoned with arrogance.

“Is that right?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “A pirate, are you?”

Graves stalked towards you, agonizingly slow, stopping when his knees bumped the side of the cot. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, empty eyes peering deep within your soul. His breath reeked of death and despair, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“I’d like to test that.”

His icy hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you out of the bed. With a yelp, you stumbled to your feet, bare of their shoes. The world beneath your soles felt foreign now, ever since Soap had given you your gift and you’d never take them off unless you were falling asleep.

The grip was tight, causing your heartbeat to thump through your muscles angrily. Your skin under his hand paled from the sheer force.

Graves tugged you along as you fought to resist him, squirming and attempting to plant your feet to the floor. Without the help of your shoes compared to his unruly strength, your fight was deemed useless. He continued dragging you, so much so you could feel little splinters begin to dig into your soles and invoke dull pangs of pain.

Fear filled your body from head to toe, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A lump filled your throat, coated with anxiety. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts, smothering any confidence you previously had and replacing it with the idea of death.

Was this where all would end? Your crew was one of the most feared among the seas, a healthy bounty placed over their heads. But there would always be one person above, and that person was Graves.

Every kick, bump, resist was fruitless as Graves hauled you to the door. What lay beyond it terrified you, images of your men dead flashing before your eyes.

Coated in their own bloodbaths, bodies laid limp amongst the floors of their own homes, sprawled out as if they meant nothing. Oh, you couldn’t bear it. You’d have to go, too—you’d have nothing left.

When Graves opened the door, you weren’t sure if the sight was any better.

It was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky, granting no room for light. A single lantern was all that was left to cast orange shadows, its fire flickering in a dance for a way out.

Your crew was lined shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in a submissive front, hands bound with thick rope behind their backs. Graves’ men, his Shadows, held the barrel of their guns to each of their heads.

Though the sight was an improvement from what you initially prepared yourself for, it was far from good. It was bordering those images, a glimpse into what could be a massacre.

The moment you were out of Price’s quarters, Graves let go of you, shoving you. You lost your balance, tumbling to your side, your head slamming into the deck. Pain blossomed under your skull and you hissed in pain.

“Dove?” you heard one of them call out. Your head spun, making it hard to figure out who it was.

A heavy blow landed on your side where you lay, and you wheezed, Graves’ boot unexpected. It kept you in place, applying pressure to guarantee you wouldn’t try to flee and fight back.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Price growled. You could recognize it, filled with a burning venom that dared to kill anyone that was in its crossfire. “This has nothin’ to do with her.”

“It’s all to do with her,” Graves spat, digging the toe of his boot into your rib cage. His previous cockiness had melted away, revealing his boiling rage. “Isn’t that right, dove?”

Graves lifted his boot, granting you a brief moment of relief before it slammed back down. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you croaking out a plea to stop.

You coiled in on yourself, curling into a ball in attempts to lessen the damage. It did nothing to stop his boot from weighing on your side. The pain felt like nothing you’d experienced before, and you were sure you felt a bone crunch.

“Dove,” Gaz called out, frantic. He tried leaning forward to get a glimpse of your face, to search for your eyes, but the barrel of the gun only pressed deeper into the back of his skull in warning. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.”

Your eyes were widened with fear, chest heaving to catch the breaths that were stolen from you. You couldn’t move, frozen in place, even as Gaz called out for you with the threat of a bullet through his head.

“I don’t know what you’re plannin’, Graves,” Price snarled, “but this is between us.”

Graves laughed diabolically, throwing his head back. It only made everything much more tense.

“Isn’t she apart of you now?” Graves humored, cocking his head. His fingers drummed along the gun in its holster on his hip. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s a pirate. I believe those were your words, Price.”

The realization that Graves knew had you going cold. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became.

“What the hell is it ye want?” Soap asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were darting back and forth between your crumpled form and Graves. “S’always somethin’ with ye, aye?”

Graves eyed Soap, a glint in his gaze. There was something unfamiliar in it, as if he held a personal grudge towards the man in question.

“There is something I want,” Graves agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh. He tapped at the gun once again, staring up at the sky in thought. “I think dove here knows exactly what that is.”

Graves dug his boot once again, peering down at you as if you were scum. You couldn’t stop the small whimper from the agony drumming in your side.

“Go on, dove,” Graves taunted, grinning. “Tell them.”

“I don’t know,” you panted. You were unfocused, eyes staring at the old floor from where your head rested.

You tried recalling what it is he could want, anything at all, but nothing was becoming clear. You scavenged through the deepest parts of your brain for even a simple clue, but the blows had made you dazed.

“I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

“You do know,” Graves repeated, cutting off the Captain. His tone grew annoyed. “Think real hard, dove.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, shoulders beginning to shake. All the built up confidence to fight back had vanished into thin air. Now, you felt like a scared little girl, begging for mercy.

Graves’ boot lifted, then returned back down. A string of curses were thrown his way from your crew, who were thrashing in the binds, unable to aid you under the lineup of guns to their heads.

You felt wetness cascade down your cheeks, dampening your skin and falling down to the side of your head from the angle you laid. It was then you realized you were crying, embarrassingly so.

Only mere hours ago you were deemed a pirate, and yet at the start of war, you fell apart like a damsel.

“The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. It was the first he’d spoken, only sitting there silently as you were beaten down. His head hung low, as if ashamed, though the darkness in his eyes was enough to cast doom across entire continents. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.”

You blinked away the tears, eyes burning. Realization dawned on you the moment Ghost spoke. Through your huddled position, you tried to tilt your chin down to meet his eye. As if thinking the same thing, he lifted his head, connecting your gazes. You could see that familiar apology pooling out of him, expressing everything he needed to say.

Washed away to land and shore,

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

The telescope you found for Gaz was an innocent gesture. The sight of it called out to you, as if meant to be owned by you. If you would’ve known it was Graves it was calling, you would’ve thrown it into the deep sea so it could never be found again.

“So he speaks,” Graves mused sarcastically.

Ghost broke contact first, eyes boring into Graves. He looked murderous, plotting his own bloodbath with just a simple look. The dim light of the single lantern did nothing to lessen the ominous glow, only highlighting it.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. The look of pure disgust was such a contrast to his normal, boyish grins.

Graves paid no mind to him, stuck in a contest with Ghost. The two of them had a dark force swirling between them, one that even outside made the air heavy and suffocating.

“A point for your bravery, Ghost,” Graves sighed dramatically, breaking his stare. He looked between each and every man, sparing you no glance while his boot remained in place. “My telescope. Give it to me, and I’ll let her go.”

You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, who seemed to be struggling with a decision. You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, unknowing of who it truly belonged to. It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“I have it,” Gaz said lowly, head bowing. “It’s in my quarters. I’ll take you to it.”

Graves sucked his teeth, feigning pity. He shook his head, hand fully resting on the gun at his hip. “Not going to work on me, Gaz. I’m quite capable of getting it myself. You sit tight, aye?”

Gaz stiffened, expression growing grim. Nevertheless, he said nothing, deciding silence was the best contender for a fight bound to end in loss.

Graves gestured for the man behind Price to fetch the telescope from Gaz and Soap’s shared quarters. Price didn’t tear his eyes away from Graves once, even as the Devil of the Seas took out his own gun and pointed it right at Price’s forehead.

He pressed the barrel of the gun into Price’s forehead, indenting the skin. It was a snug fit, a perfect shot for Graves if he wished to end things the easy way.

Graves didn’t like it easy. He liked it fun.

“Scared we’ve caught on to your trail, aye?” Price bluffed, voice gravelly and malicious. “That’s why you came out here like a fuckin’ mutt, hidin’ in the storm until you found the right time to ambush us?”

“You have your dove to blame,” Graves replied nonchalantly, rubbing his boot back and forth along your side. The pressure had you sucking air through your teeth, eyes clenching shut. “She might be your new toy, but she’s just as much a mutt as I am.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Price snarled, body shaking with feverish rage. If he could pounce on Graves, you knew he would.

“Looks like you finally grew some balls, Captain,” Graves snickered, pulling back the hammer of the gun. It resounded a loud click, which translated to a warning bell in Price’s favor. “Such anger. That anger has never worked for you, Price. It didn’t work for Ghost—it won’t work for her.”

Price let out an animalistic growl, his lips pulling back in a sneer. You’d seen the Captain angry, and you’d seen him under the guise of a scary, ominous pirate who would kill any innocent bystander that stood in his way.

This was entirely different. This was personal. A build up. This was a storm that had been coming for ages, and you were only toeing the edges.

The Shadow returned, holding the telescope you’d gifted Gaz. It shimmered in the lantern’s glow, glinting its gold details and showing it off. It felt like a goodbye.

“I’d be real careful from now on, Graves,” Price warned. It was the first you ever heard him speak so menacingly, like the demon inside of him was erupting with a stream of hot lava filled with nothing but spewing hatred. “When I find you, I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself. String you up on my sails until you’re dry, toss you into the ocean to the sharks. I’ll take pleasure in watchin’ you burn until there’s nothin’ left but ash and dust.”

Graves took the telescope from his Shadow’s hand, inspecting it. The words Price spoke clearly struck a nerve, for the arrogant grin had vanished, replaced with a gloomy, threatened expression.

“Hm,” Graves huffed, letting his gun fall and placing it back in its holster. He signaled for his men to follow suit, and you watched as all weapons dropped. “I await the day that happens, Captain. Until then, keep your mutt on a leash, aye?”

Graves made no effort to untie the crew, leaving them bound as he gathered his men to walk the plank connecting the two ship. A long, woden plank that creaked under the weight, one od wish you could kick from its balance and send them flying into the dark sea.

The moment was brutally silent as they left. Nobody moved a muscle until Graves was on his ship, the plank pulled from its placement, and the skull flag waved goodbye as they set sail into the pit of the night.

Time stood still, but the second Graves and his crew were hidden in the waves, all hell broke loose. Price and Gaz worked together to unbind each other with their backs to one another, frantic to be released. Ghost sat silently, eyes staring into the floorboards as if they’d speak to him.

“Say somethin’, dove,” Soap begged, scooting on his knees to be by your side.

As if the dam broke, you began to cry once more, heartbreaking sobs coming right from your core. You curled up tighter into your ball, your hand resting on your side as if it would magically ease the pain.

“It hurts,” you replied, voice cracking.

You’d stayed strong up until that point. Now, you couldn’t hold up your front.

You were scared. You felt more helpless than ever. You couldn’t remain strong for the sake of pretend anymore. Everything hurt, and Graves’ presence shook you to your very core.

“I know,” he cooed. He made a frustrated noise when he struggled against the binds. “I know, dove. We’re right here, alright?”

It felt strange, being on the other side of the spectrum. You were used to being the one to aid people in their injuries, but now, it was you being comforted. You couldn’t grasp what your life had become.

Price was released from his binds, quickly helping Gaz slip out of his. While Gaz made quick work to move to work on Ghost, Price was by your side in an instant.

One hand rested on your hip, turning your body towards him while the other found your face, resting his palm on it. His eyes were filled with worry when you faced him and he urgently wiped at your tears with his thumb.

“Dove,” he breathed in relief, his heart aching at the sight of you so broken. This was his fault. “You’re okay, I have you.”

You whimpered when he shifted so he could slide his arms beneath you, one under your shoulders and the other in the bend of your knees. The movement flared pain all over again, and Price murmured apologies, unsure of what to do.

He hurried to his quarters, his men following closely behind like scared dogs with their tails between their legs. Gaz held open the door, and you only caught a glimpse of his guilt-stricken expression before you were ushered in.

Price carefully slid you on to his cot, wincing every time you whimpered or cried. The pain felt excruciating, your breathing quick and labored.

“She needs a medic,” Soap stressed.

“She is a medic,” Gaz reminded, resting his hands on the edge of the cot so he could lean over and inspect your face. “We have no help besides her.”

“Well, she can’t treat herself, ye fuckin’ oaf,” Soap snipped, shooing him away from your space. “Cap, she needs to get checked. She can’t even breathe properly!”

Your head began to pound from the sheer loudness that filled the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache while simultaneously trying to correct your breathing.

You knew well enough that there was something shattered or broken. A rib, though small in theory, but dreadfully painful without the correct medicines. Not to mention the amount of force Graves had used—it was pure hell.

Price was silent, as was Ghost, the two of them sharing a conversation with just a look. There was an understanding shared, and Price gently shoved Gaz and Soap aside, replacing them.

He mimicked Gaz’s previous stance, leaning on the bed. His hand came to brush a stray tear away, frowning embedded in his mouth.

“Tell me what to do, dove,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it is.”

You sniffled, hand shaking where they rested on your side. You shook your head, nearly deranged from the shock and horror of it all, unable to snap out of it.

“I—I can’t fix it on my own, Captain,” you quivered, lips trembling. “It hurts.”

Price nearly broke, filled with guilt. He glanced behind him at Ghost, who quickly looked away, hands balling into fists.

“I know,” he assured calmly, brushing his finger along your cheek where he wiped the tear away. “We’ll fix it, aye? You just have to sit tight until we can. Can you do that for us, dove?”

Though you knew the wait would be cruel—a slow healing process until you could receive proper care—you found yourself nodding shamelessly, instantly trusting Price and his promises.

Price nodded along with you, giving your cheek a comforting pinch. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut him,” Soap muttered, jaw pulled tight. “He’s fuckin’ dead.”

Gaz reached up to grip Soap’s nape, tugging at his hair. Soap threw him a glare, one Gaz promptly ignored, turning his attention to you.

“Listen to Cap, birdie,” Gaz encouraged warmly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. You won’t even know you’re hurtin’.”

Price had a look of hesitation when you caught his eye. You furrowed your eyebrows, frowning in confusion before he spoke again, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

“We need to check it first, dove,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t feel well with all of us bein’ here, you can pick who you prefer. No hard feelin’s, hm?”

The idea that one, if not all, had to see you undressed in order to inspect the damage was one that made you a bit dazed. You’d never been seen beneath your raggedy clothes in the village, and the same applied for your time on the ship. It felt sacred, like your vulnerability was on the line, but you had to remind yourself that it was purely medical—you’d done it plenty of times when in practice at your old home.

“It—it is fine, just… just turn away, yes?” you pleaded, unable to meet any of them in the eye.

You heard a round of shuffling, only seeing Gaz elbow Soap in the corner of your vision. Once you were sure they feasted their eyes upon the old wall, you began to carefully lift your hips, biting your lip to muffle the pained noise that threatened to leave.

The hem of your dress was swiftly pulled up past your thighs, all the way until your torso was exposed. You stopped it beneath your breasts, quick to tug the blanket over your nakedness that remained uninjured and in no need to be checked.

The anxiety that pooled in your stomach left you queasy, but you toughed through it, knowing how important it was. If you had more than a mere fracture, it could become worse over time.

“Okay,” you said quietly, cringing when they turned to take you in. The men did their best to make you feel as at ease as possible, gearing their focus towards the nasty swelling on your side.

You dared to take a peek yourself, fearing for why they were so quiet. What you saw was ugly—swollen and puffy, beaten to the point it was already turning purple and blue. It was tender to the touch, even more so without clothing as a barrier.

The worst was the gnarly, black veins that spouted out like roots, dipping deep into the new bruising. It was inhuman, something completely out of the ordinary. You knew it was Graves’ dirty work, and it reminded you of when Ghost had cut his finger in the kitchen and his blood turned black, vanishing into thin air.

When you shifted your eyes from your injury, you searched for Ghost’s, who was hard-stuck on the veins. His body was tense, a darkness swirling in his irises.

“Ghost?” Soap tried, nudging the brute lightly. “Any idea what that is?”

Ghost glanced over to Soap before returning to your side, taking in the sight. “Could be anythin’,” he muttered, unsure. “I don’t know what all he’s capable of. For all we know, it could already be infected.”

“Infected?” you asked, a worried chill racking through you.

Price reached out a careful hand to spread his fingertips along the veins. You choked on a gasp at the immediate discomfort, face scrunching up into a wince.

“We’re goin’ to a doctor,” Price nearly growled, taking his hand away. “I don’t care where. The moment we spot land, we’re goin’.”

“We still have bounties on our head, Cap,” Gaz reminded with a frown. “We can’t just go anywhere. It’s not the same as shoppin’. If we end up in the wrong place, we might get ourselves in deeper shit.”

“That is a risk I’m willin’ to take,” Price argued, firm in his stance. “If we start nitpickin’ where to go, it might be too late. You’re either in or out.”

The room fell silent as the men stared at their Captain. The answer to them was obvious, though you knew why they hesitated; if they were imprisoned, it would do you no good.

Emotions were high and the clock was ticking. It placed everyone on edge.

“I agree with Price.”

All heads turned to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes boring into yours.

“It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished.

“Ghost—” you tried.

“I am quite firm in what I’ve decided,” he interrupted harshly before realizing his mistake, calming himself down. He looked away from you, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “I’m in no mood for arguments.”

You went quiet, watching Ghost turn towards the door and plot his escape. You knew out of everyone, he was affected the most, tormented with sickening guilt for all that’s transpired. You could only imagine how he felt, now that times had grown darker.

“Let him go,” Soap murmured softly, gaining your attention. “He’ll be alright. Let’s just worry ‘bout ye, aye?”

You were torn, but you nodded nonetheless, silently agreeing.

“You’ll stay with me for now,” Price explained. “No use in movin’ you anymore than I have. I’ll get you situated for now, and then you can rest.”

Gaz, Soap, and Price muttered amongst themselves, discussing a brief plan of what to do. The two set off to find more pillows to extend your comfort while Price remained by your side, plopping himself in his chair with a heavy sigh. His elbows rested on its arms, his fingers coming up to rub at his temple.

He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent the longer you looked.

“I am sorry, Captain,” you said quietly, eyes glueing to the ceiling.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked, frowning. “Got nothin’ to apologize for, dove. Our worry stems from care.”

“Yes, but,” you paused, gathering the words, “I have caused much trouble since my arrival. Things only seem to be harder for you.”

“Life was hard before you, dove,” he assured, letting his hand fall from his face. “That’s the way it goes. It is to no fault but the world.”

You took in his words, letting them sink in. You hadn’t known a true life of trouble before, the only hardships being your utter loneliness and daily taunts from the local villagers. This was something beyond your knowledge, and you were beginning to understand that there was more to life than simply displeasuring people. There was more than what meets the eye, but there was also light at the end of every tunnel.

“You do not see me as a mere burden?” you asked, and he huffed.

“What have I told you before?” Price pressed in return, tilting his head. “You are one of us. A true pirate, if that is what you’d like.”

“I am far from a pirate,” you scoffed to yourself, ashamed. “I could not even defend myself or any of you.”

“Dove,” Price called out softly. He scooted his chair closer to your bedside, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “A loss is not always a failure. Some wars are too big to handle on your own. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. Why must you speak so lowly of yourself?”

You stared at him unblinking, studying the furrow of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips, hidden beneath his beard. The worry lines on his forehead showed years of hardship, and you wondered how he managed to live through it if you could barely survive your own smaller ones.

“I have known nothing else,” you confessed bitterly, though not towards him. You were angry, not only with yourself, but at life for dealing its deck of cards in such an unfair way.

“I see,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers along the armrests, getting lost in thought. “It was the same for me as well.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he sighed, picking at the splintering wood of the armrests. “My father was a captain before me. Had the tongue of a devil. Always angry, always cold—treated me like scum, even as a child.”

“I am sorry,” you murmured quietly. Price bristled, frowning.

“That is not the point, dove,” he replied. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed, mere inches away from where you laid. You waited patiently for him to continue, keeping your gazes connected to show you were listening. “Some may treat you like a mutt on the street and deem your worth how they please. The only thing that matters is how you take it and how you come out of it.”

It dawned on you what he was implying. It was his way of comforting you, shielding you from your own burdening insecurities that never seemed to escape your mind.

“I could’ve remained angry and bitter, but now I captain my own ship and crew. The same applies for you—you may have experienced cruelty all your life, but you must take the reins on your own worth and decide what it is, dove.”

A blinding warmth shrouded you, like a blanket after being trapped in the icy cold, and you welcomed it with a smile. You’d never known Price to be so well with words, not int he way he was expressing now.

He knew what you needed to hear after being trapped in your own world of darkness, and he provided the light you needed to find your way out—all of them did. A glimmer of hope in a world full of loss.

“I am very thankful you kidnapped me,” you blurted, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

Price laughed, boisterous and loud, a smile washing over his face. It was a lovely sight, one that made your heart pound. Even through your pain, you found solitude in the aftermath, reaching a level of comfort you’d always wished to feel.

“I am happy to have you here despite it,” Price teased warmly. “I can say the same for the rest.”

You laughed, almost immediately regretting it at the shooting pain coursing in your side. He shot you a sympathetic smile, slowly standing from his chair.

“I will let you rest,” he said, giving you a gentle pat to your thigh over the blanket. Your heart jumped at the action, and you repressed it.

“You are not staying?” you asked, deflating.

“Soap and Gaz will be here with some more pillows soon. I must gather a plan so we can get you to a medic as soon as possible.”

It made sense, and you knew it was important. There was no telling what was flowing through the black veins, but your heart longed for more of his presence.

“Just for a moment longer?” you dared to request, voice small.

Price peered down at you from where he stood over you, a hint of surprise flashing on his expression before it softened. He nodded, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. You held on as long as you could.

“Just a moment then,” he repeated. “I will do it for you.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. Your feelings were uncertain, but the more you spent with them, the clearer your vision became. It was an inner battle, forcing yourself to push them back in order to protect yourself. Now, though, you decided to allow yourself the comfort, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” you told him, unaware your voice had become a mere whisper. The air between you felt heavy, as if something unspoken was there.

Price glanced down at your hands that remained interlinked before shifting his gaze back at you. The gears in his mind were turning, and just as you were about to ask if it was alright, he beat you.

“I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

You froze in place, eyes growing wide. You were unable to look away, lost in your own little moment. Everything in you was yelling yes, yes, yes! and it was hard to ignore. You had always been weak in your feelings.

“Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” you said, unsure of why you did. “I hope that is okay.”

Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.”

You released a relieved breath, a shaky smile spreading on your lips. Price did not seem angry, and for that, you grew more enticed for a kiss. While your feelings for the others were all different in their special ways, having Price be the first was not something you could deny. It excited you more than it should.

Before you knew it, Price leaned down, capturing your lips in his own. There was no spark like you’d read in books you’d read at merchant stands when you couldn’t afford them, nor were there fireworks.

Instead, it was a calm sea that smothered you in peace, easing every worry that crowded your mind. They washed away, replaced with a warm buzz.

He was gentle, hand still grasping yours, the other coming to rest beneath your jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, rough from the callouses on his palm.

The moment wasn’t long, and when he pulled away, you wished you could reel him in for more.

“Rest,” he encouraged, his smile brighter than a thousand suns. “We’ll get you fixed up and better before you know it, alright?”

You nodded dumbly, your head empty. You were practically vibrating with excitement, the feel of his lips still tingling on yours.

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back, stepping away from the bed. He gave you a soft farewell, reminding you that the boys will be back soon and to try and sleep until then.

Once he was out of the room, the quiet didn’t bother you. It wasn’t maddening, driving you up a wall, suffocating you with loneliness—it was peaceful and kind, welcoming you with open arms as you slipped into unconsciousness, the images flashing behind your eyelids of the four of them in your life only bringing you true comfort after the storm.

[lovelytsunoda]

you've got me under your spell | eddie brock and venom

summary: the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household

pairing: eddie brock x wife!reader (and their son!) x venom

warnings: i've turned eddie brock from a swagless loser to a dilf, venom is loaned to a child as a halloween costume, venom is almost like a second child tbh, implied smut, brief mentions of mental illness and pregnancy-related mental health issues. not to spoil anything at the end but the final section is pretty fucking funny if i do say so myself.

author's note: i have a very delayed last minute addition to my halloween fics for 2024! after flying through all three venom movies in about two days (as someone who doesn't watch marvel movies, might i add), i am pleased (and a little concerned) to annoucne that eddie brock is now my favourite marvel character.

yes, dylan brock is a canon character in the venom comics (or so i have been told) but all this dylan had in common with the canon version is his name.

2010.

she watched fondly from the doorway as eddie picked up the infant, who was currently trying to crawl towards the white pumpkin in the bay window. dylan laughed in his father's arms as eddie spun around before cradling the infant against his chest. he caught his wife's eyes from the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked down at dylan.

"hey kiddo, i think mommy's looking at us."

dylan smiled, wide and toothless, letting out the baby equivalent of a cheer as he looked over at his mother.

"are you guys ready to make the rounds? i promised mrs. chen some baby time." y/n laughed, reaching out to hold her son's small hand in hers.

the streets outside were lit up with fog machines and smiling skeletons, filled with the sounds of kids milling about. it was baby brock's first halloween, and he was dressed appropriately for it in his little pumpkin costume. after attempting to suck on y/n's finger, dylan dropped her hand and busied himself with attempting to trace the tattoos visible on eddie's forearm.

eddie beamed, kissing his wife softly before answering. "we're ready if you are. lead the way, mamas."

y/n had never pictured herself as a mother. in her twenties, when it seemed like settling down was the only thing people her age wanted to do, she was paralyzed with fear, insecurity and a little bit of self-loathing. being inside of her head was a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it to thirty.

things had started to change when she met eddie brock.

slowly, she came alive again. she started to want things that she had thought were out of reach. she wanted to get married, have that house and that family and the white picket fence. to know that everything she had done had added up to this moment, and that everything had been worth it.

but she hated being pregnant. for her, growing another human being had been an arduous, terrifying experience. the eight hours of labour she had gone through on the day dylan was born was enough for her to decide that she didn't want more kids, and that she could still have the family she dreamed of with only one child.

she kissed dylan's forehead softly, brushing back his thin baby hair before tucking the small pumpkin hat onto his little head, and over his small ears.

the couple walked down the front steps of their bungalow, one of eddies arms around his wife, and the other holding his son (which was quite the feat, considering that the infant so desperately wanted out of his father's arms. dylan was an active baby, but he was allowed to crawl down the residential street, he would do so at such a pace that the brocks would never get him back.)

at every house they went to there was someone to coo over the littlest brock. eventually, eddie had to drop that arm around his wife so that he could use both hands to hold his son. dylan smiled that wide, gummy smile and laughed and babbled at all of the people that they passed, y/n clutching an almost-full orange bag of candy (she was convinced that some of their neighbours gave out extra candy to the couple, simply to reward them with the hit of caffeine found in chocolate that the new parents would so crave).

as they walked towards mrs. chen's house, dylan finally settled in his fathers arms, eddie looked over at his wife with nothing but reverence and love in his eyes. even carrying a little bit of extra weight around her hips and stomach, her breasts a little fuller and her arms a little chubbier, she was as radiant as she was the day that they got married. he would do anything for her, for his son. his little family.

"eddie, darling." she laughed, turning to face him. "you're staring."

eddie blushed, the rose in his cheeks barely visible in the dark. "uh, no i'm not."

"yes you are." she giggled. "i love you, eddie brock."

"i love you more." eddie beamed, leaning over to kiss her. "i think the little guy is worn out." he spoke softly, nodding towards the baby in his arms. "he's asleep."

"awe." y/n cooed, gently stroking her son's arm with her pointer finger. the sight of eddie holding their son in his arms would never grow old. she was starting a folder of pictures on her laptop of this very thing, as she knew dylan would soon be too big for his father to hold. "he's just like his father. he can go to sleep any time, any where and in any condition."

eddie laughed. "i feel like there was an insult buried in there somewhere."

"i still married you, didn't i?"

2024.

"dylan, if you want to get to eric's on time, you've gotta get going now! his mom's on the way!"

y/n knocked on her son's door, waiting until she heard the disgruntled teenage groan from the other side. satisfied that dylan had been served enough warning, she headed back out into the living room.

she had put eddie in charge of moving the halloween candy from the massive carboard costco boxes to the festive plastic bowls, and he was doing a surprisingly okay job at it.

their life had changed drastically in the years since her husband had begun to share his body with a symbiote. the symbiote had once given dylan nightmares, and she had fielded one too many concerned calls from the school after he had gone around and told all of the other kids that his father was an alien and would eat anybody who was mean to him (although, once eddie and venom had bonded, venom was steadfast in his commitment to eating any bullies that dylan may face) it had taken time, and a lot of home repairs to get used to, but alas, venom now felt like one of the family.

well, more like the cousin you don't want any of your friends to meet. or the alien that your husband is in a strangely homeorotic relationship with.

"i thought venom would have eaten half of those by now." she remarked, leaning over the back of the sofa to rest her head on her husband's shoulder, hands on his chest.

"i made him promise to behave today. i don't want him scaring the little kids." eddie shrugged, turning his had to kiss his wife softly.

"what did you have to give him?"

eddie paused, waiting a beat in order to formulate an answer that wouldn't send his wife into a spiral. in the distance, he heard dylan's bedroom door open and close, and then the fourteen-year-old came bounding into the living room.

"eric's mom is like five minutes away. is it okay if i wait outside?"

keeping her hands on eddie shoulders, y/n straightened, looking over at her son. "no costume?'

she didn't miss the way that eddie's muscles tensed up under her hands, or the way dylan's pinkie finger twitched. neither of them said a word, and when her eyes zeroed in on the full boxes of nestle chocolates, she got her answer.

"edward brock, please tell me that you did not lend your symbiote to our son as a halloween costume!"

dylan's shoulder rippled black over the top of his hunter-green sweatshirt, venom's inky head materializing next to a defeated looking dylan.

"okay, we won't tell you." the symbiote said , turning to face eddie. "you told me that this was okay with mrs. b."

eddie got up from the couch, pointing a finger at the symbiote. "i said no such thing. i said we were never supposed to tell y/n under any circumstances."

"mom, it's only for the night. you let dad have venom year-round!" dylan protested, stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets. "how is this any different?"

y/n stopped and counted to twenty, eyes closed before she breathed deeply and opened them again.

"that's because your father is the one who brought venom into this house in the first place, and i didn't get a say in the matter. also, your father is an adult, and venom actually listens to him."

"i listen to nobody!"

eddie coughed. "actually, he doesn't listen to me at all. he does what he wants half of the time."

"not the point, eddie! hosting venom almost killed you."

"actually- "

"not now vee!" eddie and y/n shouted together.

eddie reached for his wife's hand, knowing that she needed something to ground her, something tangible that she could hold on to. his hand was warm and calloused, comforting. she ran her thumb over eddie's knuckles as he stepped closer, dropping his voice in the hopes that dylan and venom wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"y/n, you know that i wouldn't let dylan take venom out if i didn't think he could handle it. its just one night."

"eddie, venom eats people. i don't want to get calls from parents stating that their sons hung out with my son, and then they came back headless."

"he has sworn to be on his best behavior tonight." eddie insisted. "and besides, when was the last time we had a night that was just the two of us? no dylan, no venom."

she paused, trying to think, the calm was starting to ease back into her body, the initial panic subsiding. her husband was right, she knew. while nights without dylan had become more common the older he got, with the boy staying over at friend's houses or going out late with his buddies, having a husband who hosted an alien sometimes put a damper on date night.

for the past five years, she had felt like she was in a never-ending threesome. don't get her wrong, the sex was absolutely phenomenal, but she missed her husband. she missed the days when it was just the two of them, curled up in bed on a sunday afternoon, with reruns of a bad sitcom playing in the background as they made love without a care in the world.

she realized that she was excited at the idea of having sex with her husband without an alien tentacle trying to slip into her ass (which felt absolutely incredible, by the way. after the first time venom did that, she downloaded all the monsterfucking books she could find on kindle unlimited. trying to explain the plot of ice planet barbarians to eddie had been quite the spectacle).

a honk in the front driveway snapped her out of her thoughts. dylan was looking at her expectantly, venom's head still hovering in the air next to him. if it were possible for symbiotes to give puppy dog eyes, she was sure that venom would be doing so. she looked at eddie, and then back at dylan, weighing her options.

"fine. dylan, you can take venom with you."

venom and dylan gave a cheer, the teen high-fiving one of venom's slinky tentacles.

"i promise not to eat any of the children, mrs. b. only gourmet chocolate. dylan says tonight is the best night for it."

"go on." y/n laughed. "don't keep eric waiting. and be careful!"

eddie and y/n stood by the front window, eddie's hand in her back pocket as they watched dylan run down the driveway and jump into the back of eric's mom's nissan. he had grown up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he was an infant in a pumpkin costume, cradled in eddie's strong arms. now he was almost as tall as his father.

y/n let out a small yelp as she felt herself become weightless, her husband's strong, beefy arms wrapped around her thighs.

"baby, be careful! you aren't as strong without venom! i don't want you to hurt your back!"

"i'll be fine! we have a heating pad for a reason!"

the headed down the hallway in a cloud of giggles, eddie kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with a cheeky grin on his face.

oh yeah, they were going to enjoy every second of having the house to themselves.

____

it was nearing midnight when dylan brock came home, shocked to find his father in the living room, sitting on the sofa in the dark and wincing every time he moved.

"dad? what are you doing? where's mom?"

eddie groaned, trying not to move too much. the heating pad rested against his lower back, and any movement sent a sharp pain up his spine. "she's asleep. tired out."

dylan made a face, dropping his backpack next to the couch. "god damn it, dad! i don't need to know that!"

eddie chuckled. "not like that." well, sort of like that. "this week has been hard on her. between you, me and venom, she's got her hands full."

"what's the heating pad for?" dylan crossed his arms over his chest, staring his father down.

"i hurt my back. it's nothing, not important."

"oh my god! you hurt your back banging mom!"

"dylan, keep your voice down! your mother is sleeping!" eddie scolded, screwing his eyes shut. "and she doesn't know. there is nothing less sexy than pinching something in your back while-"

"stop. please. i don't want to know."

"anyways, i waited until she fell asleep to put some muscle spray on it, and that didn't help, so here i am with the heating pad. how was your night?"

"it was good. venom's fun. we went trick-or-treating around eric's neigbourhood, where all the fancy houses are. also, i think i know what possum brain tastes like." dylan scrunched up his face. "venom decided he'd eaten enough snickers bars."

"snickers are for the weak." venom grunted. "real men eat brains."

eddie laughed. "now you know what the inside of my head is like. at least venom didn't try to eat any people. i wish i never knew what grey matter tasted like."

dylan extended his hand. "it's been fun, but i think he wants his host back."

eddie took dylan's hand in his, inhaling as he felt venom fill his veins once more, the familiar voice he'd come to tolerate returning to the back of his mind. slowly, the stinging pain in his lower back started to subside, the symbiote healing him from the inside out.

"thanks buddy. i needed that." he sighed. "and thanks for looking after dylan."

"no problem, eddie. you know, you'd get hurt less around the house if you stopped doing silly things when i'm not here."

"hey dylan, do you want the symbiote back?"

dylan laughed, heading to his room. "not a chance, dad. you're the only person in the world who could handle him."

[annwrites]

⸻ fallen for the monster. ⸻

· pairing: pyramid head x fem!reader · type: one-shot · summary: with no memory of how you got there, you find yourself trapped within the haunting confines of the town of silent hill. and there is where you find that which has haunted your nightmares dreams for weeks on-end. but you are not horrified by him. and he wants you all the more for it. · tags: use of restraints, monster fucking, tummy bulge, body worship, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, pussy smacking, clit pinching, chair sex · tw: dubcon · word count: 2,393

When you awake, you feel a dull, throbbing ache at the base of your skull.

Your head lulls to the side and you blink blearily against dim overhead lighting which buzzes quietly, and your head spins. You worry you have a concussion.

You try to swallow, but your tongue only serves to stick to the roof of your mouth.

And then your senses clear, but only minimally. Enough for you to realize your limbs are latched tightly to the large piece of rusted sheet metal which you are lying utterly naked upon.

Then is when you begin to hyperventilate in terror.

You don't recall this place.

One moment, you'd been in bed sound asleep. The next, you awake to this: being trussed up like game to be slaughtered.

You've been sleep walking again, haven't you?

This may feel like a nightmare, but you know that you are utterly awake.

Hot tears begin to slip down your cheeks while your breasts rapidly rise and fall as you strain against your restraints, even if you know that there's no use.

Nevertheless, you try and try until your skin is nearly rubbed raw in your efforts to free yourself.

Your chin wobbles and you begin to quietly sob.

You want so desperately to go home.

Why is this happening to you? Why would someone do this? Why are men such depraved, disgusting creatures? You've done nothing wrong to deserve what is inevitably coming for you.

You should've placed more locks upon your door to prevent yourself from escaping.

Even if you somehow know that even if you'd implemented a dozen...they wouldn't have mattered.

You've just begun to drift off to sleep when you hear it.

You'd tried keeping your eyes open for as long as you possibly could, but once the adrenaline began to wear off and you let the silence envelope you, it lulled you into a false sense of security. And so you had closed your lids for just a moment. Just one.

But now your heart is pounding away between your breasts once again.

The sound of something heavy and metallic scrapes against the floor not far from the room you're trapped in.

Your mind races with various horrifying scenarios.

What if he doesn't mean to rape you at all, but instead torture you? What if that is what is scraping against the floor as he comes ever-closer: a weapon? An axe, or a pipe, or a machete, or—

You begin to strain again, your cries growing in volume as you arch your back and grit your teeth and pull, pull, pull.

But even if you could free even one limb—you fear you would need to deglove a hand or a foot to even accomplish such a feat—what of the rest?

The sound stops. Suddenly. Outside the door.

Your fear you may lose consciousness again.

And then you hope for as much.

At least you would be spared that way... In a sense.

Rusted hinges creak while the base of the door scrapes against the cement floor and you go utterly still and silent as you stare with wide eyes at what is to come.

And when you see it, your mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. Not even a gasp.

You should've known.

How could you not have known?

He's haunted your dreams for months on-end.

At the beginning, you merely hid, even if the sensation of him was everywhere in your sleeping state.

Even when awake, you feel him with you—you're never alone now.

And then you had stopped hiding.

You began seeking him out instead.

You admitted it to yourself somewhere along the way: your attraction to this faceless thing.

You liked watching him and the things he would do.

The ways he relieved his sexual frustrations as cum poured from his penis when he would finish in hidden rooms that only you could find.

You admired his tall, sturdy body, sinewy limbs, and his long, thick cock.

You've touched yourself raw over it.

He slams the door shut behind him and you jerk involuntarily while spreading your legs, offering yourself up to him.

At last—at long last you can have it: him. Can be the object of his desires and darkening attentions.

Every inch of you grows warm and heat pools between your spread thighs.

"It's you," you sigh while licking your lips.

He rests his great knife against the wall before stalking toward you. His heavy boots thump against the floor, the sensation reverberating through you.

He comes to stand between your legs, his hands resting at his sides while his fingers twitch in anticipation.

You want to see his face, but that part of himself he's never revealed. Not even to you. You somehow know it within your heart that he never will.

You shed a tear at the thought.

He slides his callused hands up your shins, over your knees, and then between your thighs.

You whimper when he stops. For he is so near where you're now dripping and desperate for him.

"Please," you beg—a mere whisper.

He cocks his head to the side, then moves his hands to your chest.

He takes each of your breasts within his grip and begins to knead the soft, squishy mounds between his fingers.

Your skin is so soft and warm. Clean and undefiled. Delicate.

He pinches a tiny nipple between his fingertips and rolls it around until it is taught and pebbled.

You bite your lip and clench tightly around nothing. You need more. From him.

He does the same with your other breast, and then he lightly slaps each of them, watching in fascination as they jiggle.

He slides a palm down your stomach and runs his fingers through the smattering of coarse, yet soft hair upon your pubic mound.

He takes your supple hips into his hands and squeezes.

Everything about you is so soft and weak and fragile.

So human.

So pure and feminine.

He likes you like this: weak.

He removes his smock and it falls to the floor, leaving his form bare before you.

You gasp in shock.

Up close like this, it's impossibly large.

It will never fit.

But oh, how you need for it to.

"Will it hurt?" You whimper.

He merely grunts in response before stroking himself from base to shaft, over and over.

"Here," you whisper, wiggling your hips. "Between my legs. Put it there. Let me help you feel better."

He squeezes his tip tightly and greyish liquid oozes out, dribbling onto the floor.

You nod your head. "Ease it in where I'm wet. You'll like it. It's meant for you to have. All of me is. I want to give you relief. I'm yours."

He positions his cock before your entrance and rubs the bulbous, mushroom tip against your cunt.

You smile in response.

Nearly there.

It's about to happen.

"That's it," you encourage softly. "Right there. Shove it inside."

You know it will be excruciating initially. But you have to do this.

It's always been meant to happen.

You're meant for him to have. To utilize as he pleases.

He eases into you as you instructed, but only the tip.

Your back arches and your eyes go wide as you begin to stretch around him. "Ah, more. Give me more."

He shoves his hips forward, his girth settling inside you inch-by-inch.

You begin to softly cry.

"All of it. I have to have it all. We're supposed to do it like this. Please. Please."

He watches as shimmering tears slip from your innocent eyes.

"I love you."

He thrust inside of you then, burying himself firmly in your tight, wet heat.

He roars at the feel of you wrapped so perfectly around him.

He'd meant to be gentle with you, but you had begged him so sweetly. How could he ever deny you like this?

You choke on your tears and it burns where his body is now connected with your own, but it feels so, so right.

Like two broken, grotesque, tormented things being joined into one which is whole at last.

He grips your hips and you glance down, studying where his erection bulges against your stomach, ready to rip you open at any moment, and then he begins to brutally thrust.

He watches in fasciation as your breasts and skin and softness bounce with every jerk of his body against yours.

"More, more, more," you plead.

He cups your face between his hands, wanting to please his pure little mortal with the broken mind and heart.

He eases a thumb into your mouth and you begin to suck quietly, grounding yourself to him.

Your eyes flutter closed and you hum in contentment.

He needn't have bound you.

You would've remained all on your own, because it is he who has taken you captive.

You would never willingly leave him.

He knows this. Has known for some time.

He doesn't understand your dedication to him—your love for him—but he takes it anyway. Because that is what he does. That...is what he is: a taker.

He doesn't understand the concept of love. Has never even heard the word before you uttered it a moment ago, but somehow, he knows it is what he has when you're with him in this cursed place.

His cock throbs painfully between your walls, desperate for release.

He looks down to the tiny, swollen nub between your legs and he decides to touch it. Perhaps it feels as smooth and precious as the rest of you.

He pinches it between his fingers and your eyes open once again while you gasp in shock.

"Ah! Please," you whimper.

He slaps it painfully with his open palm and you clench around him, squeezing his veiny erection tightly.

So he does it again, and you draw him impossibly further inside.

Yes, he is inside you, while you are inside his world.

Never to escape.

No, now that he has you here in flesh and blood and bone, you cannot leave.

He cannot bear it.

His sweet, ignorant human girl...fallen for a monster.

If only you knew the blood upon his hands. But you have licked it clean. Have washed him with your tears.

He begins to rub that sensitive nub fervently—round and round—and you squeal and pull against your restraints and your legs wobble. "T-There, yes!"

He grunts and groans, pumping away, wanting to see what it is which you do when you finally reach your peak.

He needs to see.

You squeeze tightly, like a vice, and you spread your legs wide. "Nearly—"

You begin to squelch loudly against him—your cunt's arousal coats his cock now.

"So—" You whimper and cry softly. "Like that."

He slaps it again, then pinches, rubs, pinches, slaps—

"Yes!" You cry, relief washing over you as you climax around his cock. "Good, so goooood. Perfect."

You pant slowly and you giggle quietly.

"Finally," you whisper affectionately.

He doesn't stop, however. He continues to rock his hips against yours, fucking himself between your sore, pulsating walls.

But you know he needs this.

And so you let him continue for however long he may require.

Until he begins to touch it again.

You jerk, then sniffle. "It's too sensitive. You have to wait."

He ignores that.

He liked it: what you just did.

Likes it more than anything.

He wants to see it again. To feel it again. Wants you to feel it again.

So he slaps your raw cunt and pinches your clit tightly.

"Mm! Please, don't!"

He growls lowly before rubbing feverishly at it.

"No. Just wa—"

He slaps it again as punishment.

You sob.

"Ple—"

Another slap—even harder.

You force yourself to be quiet then; swallow down your protests. For his sake.

You want nothing more in all the world than to please him.

And he wants the same for you. To please his pathetic little human.

He embraced his monstrosity long ago. It's all he's ever been. And so he is not above torture. Not even of this nature.

But you like it. You can't hide yourself from him. In any facet.

His breathing grows heavy and labored and his fingers circle your red, swollen clit before he grinds down against it with the heel of his palm.

Your body gyrates atop the thin metal he has you placed upon and drool drips from the corner of your open mouth.

So he shoves two fingers inside the pool of saliva and you clamp down against them and suck at him between plump lips.

Such strange creatures you humans are. To him, at least.

But he likes your warmth, and smooth skin, and soft breasts, and squishy cunt.

So, so delicate you are. Easy to manipulate and use.

A thin sheen of sweat has broken out across his naked form and he labors to reach his peak—to aid you in reaching yours.

And then your walls begin to squeeze around him again, giving him a wanted signal.

He thrusts and thrusts, leaning over you, turning his head so as not to impale you.

You are the only one he could never stand to kill or maim.

He grips the cuffs around your wrists and pulls, freeing your limbs.

You quickly wrap them around his shoulders.

He does the same with your ankles, so you wrap them around his waist.

He lifts you into the air and grips you beneath your fleshy ass, sliding you along his impossibly long erection.

He stumbles back into a chair, which groans beneath his heavy weight and you hold yourself to him.

You rock your hips against his as your feet dangle well above the floor.

He guides you along his shaft, instructing you.

You press your lips to his neck, his shoulder, his pecks.

"I love you," you whisper once more.

And then he roars so loud it nigh-on shakes the entire building as he spills and spills and spills inside of you.

It's so much that it covers his thighs, pours onto the floor, and covers your young, fertile walls.

And then the two of you calm and he holds you close while burying his scarred fingers in your damp hair.

"Do I get to stay this time?" You whimper.

He nods.

[rishiguro]

hi rin! i recently came across your blog from an angst scenario and i was wondering if you would be able to do a jjk version of “characters throwing their wedding ring” i live for angst haha and i’m really glad i found your blog! also i’m 20!!

JJK CHARACTERS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING

feat. nanami; toji; gojo; shoko; getou

a/n: angst rules ngl. thank you for your suggestion, i hope u enjoy this (because i for sure enjoyed writing this)

haikyuu version

arguments usually weren’t heated with NANAMI. the two of you believed in open and honest communication so it was rare that either one of you would start yelling. so to say the least, hearing his voice boom in the living room and seeing him so enraged was shocking. you couldn’t focus on him anymore as he continued his rant, face slightly red from his booming voice. but you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him, eyes fixed on the ring laying on the floor — the ring that was supposed to be on his ring finger as a symbol of your eternal love. that was until one second the yelling stopped. as you looked up you saw your husband frozen, gaze downcast in guilt.

loving TOJI could be hard sometimes. he was argumentative, hot-headed and selfish. he didn’t seem to care what buttons he pushed and just how much hurt he would cause. you were terrified to see just how easy he managed to slip the ring off and throw it carelessly to the side right before slamming the door behind him. what you couldn’t see however was him dropping down right after, his back against the wood, with his head between his knees. his breathing shuddered as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the skin. there was one thing he was sure of — he loved you. could you love him, regardless of how fallible he was?

GOJO was truly special — in one way or another. yet he always made sure to treat you as his equal, because that’s what you were to him. he loved you more than anything and anyone and he never had any problems admitting that. and you never doubted him because he never gave you a reason to. but now you did. “please,” his voice was muffled behind the door, “please let me in” the second you left the room he was right behind you, his pleads for you cut off by the door slamming into his face. “i love you,” he insisted, his hands outstretched. he wanted nothing more than to step into the room and fall on his knees right in front of you, beg for your forgiveness. and he could — but he couldn’t. he shouldn’t. because this wasn’t about what he needed or wanted but about how he hurt you and what you needed from him.

one of SHOKO’s strengths was being level-headed, no matter how serious or loaded the situation might be. she was always aware of what she was doing and of how it might affect others — which is why this hurt even more. she couldn’t explain to herself why she thought for even just a second that throwing her wedding ring, the one the two of you chose together, at you was the right thing to do. she clenched her jaw, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. she should turn around, go back to you, apologize, beg for your forgiveness. and yet here she was, running away from the one thing she loved and hurt the most — you.

GETOU was aware of his faults. he was a passionate and smug man, going so far as to call himself condescending. and while he was confident that he was able to control his emotions and be a good person and especially a good partner, he soon realized that this wasn’t always the case. his face was pale, a shocked expression etched into it. he looked stunned, shaking his head in disbelief with his eyes staring on his hand. this had to be a dream, there was no way he would do such a thing. he told himself he was going to be good to you, always keep you safe and happy. this couldn’t be true, it had to be a dream, a nightmare. but if it was a dream, why wouldn’t he wake up, safe and secure with your loving arm around him?

reblogs are appreciated

[gojosatorubrainrot]

The only real thing in here is you and me

•Summary: you are having a nightmare and Satoru is there to reassure you as the good and caring boyfriend he is

•Feat: Satoru Gojo x Reader

•Content: fluff, hurt/comfort, protective Satoru, insecure reader, Satoru being the perfect boyfriend

•Author's note: since I'm person who usually has nightmares and wakes up in the middle of the night scared and needs to be hugged, I decided to write this if some of you feel identified 🥹

•If you want to get added to my taglist, let me know in comments

Alone

That is how you are feeling at this moment. All your beloved relatives left you to rest in peace in the other side. But that wasn't the reason why you feel that way. You assumed that day would come so you were kinda prepare to say goodbye to them.

You feel alone because of him.

Because you had never thought that among all the people, he would let you at your mercy in this hard path called life.

It's worse than being all alone because of his eventual departure; he left you because he was tired of all of your problems: your complicated relationship you had with your parents before they passed away; your anxiety issues, low self streem and the bad conception you had of your own body; you never loved what you looked like in front of the mirror.

He was patient, comprehensive and caring everytime you came up with any of the topics mentioned before.

But he got tired; tired of each quarrel about how stubborn you were, how you didn't believe all those compliments he gave you, how beautiful you were to his eyes: you believed he was lying like everyone else did during your life.

You always thought he was like them; saying those beautiful words only to make you feel good, cared... loved, so you wouldn't complain about your look nor feel alone ever again.

You were standing in your house entrance dressed with one of his oversized shirts, seeing how his tall frame was walking across the street, to the opposite direction to your house: he was leaving you.

"Satoru, please! Don't leave me!"

You were shouting to him, tears falling down from your swollen eyes, having a tiny hope he would turn around and come back home. You hoped this was a joke, a really bad one: after all, he was the king of jokes.

But seeing your desperate shouts were causing no effect on him, you surrendered; you immediately fell on your knees, head in your hands, crying, sobbing, feeling how your heart was breaking in tiny little pieces because after all these years, he abandoned you. The only thing he had promised not to do so. He lied... as everyone did in your life

"Satoru, come back..." you were repeating to yourself, eyes fixed on the floor in astonishment, still believing this was a dream, you even pinched your cheeks but,then, you assumed this was the most real thing you ever lived through.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

It's a quiet and peaceful night, the room being lighten by the moon, the soft summer breeze moving the curtains while the white haired man, who barely gets some sleep, is looking at your sleeping silhouette, spellbound; he is tempted to trace your pinky cheeks with his long fingers, thanking the gods for letting him to have such a wonderful, kind and ethereal woman by his side.

He is also happy that you let him in, to get to know you more, your secrets, insecurities, your anxiety issues and mostly your low self esteem. He was always aware of when you were feeling uncomfortable or uneasy by only looking at how you usually furrow your eyebrows with disgust and that is when he immediately knows that you are not okay anymore.

He would instantly drop everything he was doing, even canceling meetings with the higher ups so he can spend the rest of the day with his girl, spoling her with her favorite snacks, cuddling in bed while watching her favorite movies/TV shows but mostly; being with you when you most needed him.

Suddenly his daydreaming is interrupted when he feels you started to move in the middle of your sleep, droplets of sweat in your forehead, making some strands of hair stucked to it. You were babbling nonsense; at first he decided to ignore it since you usually have dreams like that, but when you screamed his name in a terrified way all of sudden, that really caught his attention.

By the time you are slowly realizing that all was a nightmare, you feel those familiar arms around you, his chest pressed in your back, feeling his increased heartbeats and his head buried in your neck. You can't help but start crying because you thought your worst fear came true.

You felt relieved, it wasn't.

"Shh shh, it's okay, baby. I'm here" he whispers to your ear, your body still trembling, hard breaths leaving your mouth, shock running through your body, like you were paralyzed. "It was a bad dream, sweets. It wasn't real. The only thing that is real in this room is you and me" he says this giving your cheek smooches as you begin to calm down.

"Toru..." your voice trembles, tears showing at the corner of your eyes, all that you want is being wrapped in those arms, the ones that always make you feel safe, loved and most of all, that the strongest sorcerer, the love of your life, Satoru Gojo, your Toru, is by your side another day.

He breaks the embrace and move in the mattress so he can be in front of you, to do what he does best: to be there for you.

"I'm here, sweets" he cups your face so you are looking at his cerulean eyes filled with worry.

It breaks his heart to see you at such vulnerable condition, being aware of he wasn't able to do something to prevent you from having that nightmare.

He put a strand of hair behind your ear in a delicate way as if you were about to break in tiny little pieces, without breaking the eye contact.

Satoru won't ask you about your nightmare, but, he can guess it was related to him. It's not the first time you woke up in such state; the first time you did it, it turned out you dreamt about Satoru dying in your arms after visiting him in Shoko's infirmary due a bad injury during one of his missions.

It was extremely hard to him to calm you down after you told him every detail of it, so he didn't want you to freak out again, you have already dealt with too much pain during your sleep.

"I'm here, love. I'll never leave you by your own. I never break my promises, especially if they involve the love of my life, you" he says giving a sweet and gentle kiss in the tip of your nose, then, in your left cheek, the other and finally, in your lips. He was pampering you with all the love he has for you, his everything.

It was a kiss filled with love, devotion, adoration but mostly, with care. You close your eyes, your chest inflates with a warm feeling that you only feel with Satoru; you will always feel safe if he is by your side.

"Let's go to bed, baby. Try to get some sleep, and remember, I'm always here no matter what, okay?"

You nodded and let Satoru tuck you in, covering your body with the sheets and then he did the same placing himself behind you, hugging you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, his hands placed in your low belly. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, feeling his warm breathing.

That is all you needed. To feel alive, to feel safe, to feel this is real

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

© GOJOSATORUBRAINROT— do not plagiarise, repost, use or translate my works on any platform.

Taglist: @shogunish @msjellyf1sh

[shiny-jr]

outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia. 

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

[the-kr8tor]

250 Years of Longing

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x Fem! Vampire! Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Synopsis: A brief misunderstanding leads to years of heartache. You mourn 250 years of love while his heart remains to you and only you.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire AU, divorced! Vampire! AU, established relationship, CW blood, talks of marriage, hurt/comfort, some fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale !!! This au was born in our dms lol

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Hobie's words are muffled in your ears as you try to hide your trembling, lovelorn body. Your head is in your hands, wide eyes downturned towards the same scruffed floors you've lived in for thirty years with him. You still remember the day you moved in, the walls were in bright yellow back then, wooden floors hidden by some gaudy shag carpet from the 70s. You still remember that decade like it was yesterday, maybe it was just yesterday, being a vampire means that time has moved differently for you. Time is merely something you gloss over, years flying by in a wink. Barely a flutter in your immortal eyes.

Even technology is moving faster and innovating quicker than you could manage to keep up. The next thing you know, you've been alive for more than 250 years.

250 years of being with him, 250 years of wearing the same identical ring, 250 years of loving him. All those 250 years are going through your mind a thousand miles per hour, your first kiss with him, your confession. Or was it him who confessed to you? Were you the one who got sick and he had to find a vampire to turn you and in turn to change him? Or was it the other way around? Memory is a fickle thing when you're older than any living human on earth. You've forgotten a lot of things, memory hazy and foggy like a dream you don't quite remember the second you wake. You wish this was just a dream, a nightmare that you'll wake up from.

“I need to try— I need to go, love.” His words wake you up from the lucid nightmare. He stands in the middle of your shared room, eyes forlorn, brows pinched together like he's in agony. “I can't stay ‘ere like this.”

If his words could kill, you'd be staked through the heart by now. 250 years of being together, practically joined at the hip. A love beyond a simple marriage on paper. And he's just standing there, breaking your long dead heart.

You look up at him through bloody tears, nails digging into your scalp as you try to hide your wails. An impossible feat. “Was it me? Did I do something?” You've faced vampire hunters together, faced horrors beyond belief to survive and continue to live with him. But you were never terrified, until now.

He immediately shakes his head, moving closer to you to take your trembling hands. The identical rings on his and your finger clinks together as he clasps your hand. “No, it's not you, love.” Kneeling down, he gazes at you through wine red eyes, bloody tears threatening to spill over his cheeks that you would always caress in your shared coffin that's hidden beneath the canopy bed you're currently languishing in.

“That's what they all say.” You utter in a small voice that he hasn't heard in decades.

Grasping your hands, he rubs his thumbs over your pulse where your heart would beat. Something he still does even though your hearts haven't beat together in sync ever since that fateful day.

“You didn't do anythin' wrong. I jus’ need to find myself, go out and see the world in my own eyes.”

You nod bitterly. “Without the burden of me.”

“That's not true, you're not a burden.” His hands reach towards your cheeks, wiping the bloody tears cascading down them like rain drops on a cold autumn day. “There are people I could help out there—”

“And I can't? Why can't you just bring me with you?” You wrench yourself away from him, walking away from the bed to give him space lest you let him see you like this. “Just say you're tired of me.” Hugging yourself, you feel his arms wrap around your middle, face tucked in the crook of your neck right where your scar sits.

“‘m not tired of you.” He says against your skin.

Your twist in his arms to face him fully, palms resting on his chest, eyes dim and scared. “Then why leave? Why do you want to leave me?” His shirt is bunched around your fists, desperate to cling to him despite his wishes. “250 years, Hobie. I've known you for more than that, been with you through all of it. I deserve to know why.” You try to reign in your anger and frustration but your fangs suddenly appearing betrays you.

“I don't want to leave you— Time, love. I jus’ need time. That's all we've got.”

You're tired, tired of asking why, tired of clinging to him like a life raft. Tired of your chest aching and feeling heavy as he looks at you with pity— was it pity? Or something else? So you let him go. Fists unfurling, palms leaving his chest as you step away from him.

“Alright.” You sniff, expression falling stiff as you straighten up. “I won't stop you.” If your love for him keeps him from doing what he loves, then you'll let him go. You can still love him from afar, even if he doesn't want you anymore.

“Love.” Hobie reaches your hand, palm sliding up to your elbows as he pulls you closer to embrace you fully. “250 years, not once did I feel I didn't love you.”

You close your eyes as you find yourself hidden atop his throat, memorizing his scent and how he holds you. Feeling how his own tears drip down on you, how his skin feels against your own. Memory is a fickle thing, you'll soon forget, but you don't want to. So you'll cling to him, even if it's just a memory of him.

“I love you, y’know that right?” He whispers to you, and only to you.

“I—” you falter. If you say it back, it feels like goodbye. And you don't want to say goodbye to the one person you have loved for centuries. “—I know, Hobie.” You could only say, saying it back means that you're never going to see him again. Saying it back means it's the end.

He could only hold onto you tighter, lips pecking the crown of your head so gently that you barely felt it in your lovelorn state.

You've got time, but it won't be spent with him. Eternity would feel empty for you now.

—

It's been six months of being alone, six months since he moved out to find his purpose. He wanted to leave partly so you could also find yourself and be yourself without his presence. 250 years of being together would do that. He doesn't know where he ends and begins when your soul and his own are tangled together for eternity. And he wants that for you too— to be your own self and not just another vampire in the cursed flock.

To be a better eternal partner for you is one of his goals, he needed to leave so he could be better, so he could be good to you for another 250 years more.

And he's willing— wishing that he gets to spend eternity with you after he's satisfied with what he has done to help people. He just hopes that you'd be home to welcome him back once he does. He's sure that you're already making good progress in finding yourself. He already misses you. A lot.

He's already aching for home and your embrace.

So much has happened in those six months, he's excited to tell you everything he has encountered. And even more excited to hear your voice again, to hold you again and sleep in the same coffin with you again and not the shoddy temporary coffin he made out of planks to rest in. He can already see your ecstatic face when he enters the abode again.

Ned has told him that he won't last a year without you. He'd know, Hobie has been friends with him for almost a hundred years now. But he refuses to let him win, even though he really wants to see you right now, or even call you on one of those phones that people seem to be addicted to. But you haven't picked up his calls, or even answered his letters. He has sent one everyday since he left, he's starting to worry now. Even the crew who urged him to go on a worldwide mission with him has placed bets on when he'll run back to you. With the earliest being tomorrow, and the longest being a year. He intends to make them lose, but by god, he misses you so damn much that he's starting to see you in his dreams. And see glimpses of you in the corner of his eyes.

He doesn't regret his decision, but a part of him thinks that you were right— that he should've brought you with him on his journey. Without you his frozen heart feels like it's out of his own body. Walking around without him, living without him. But he knows that it's for the best. It's only temporary, he keeps repeating to himself every night. He'll be with you soon.

As he writes today's letter, he smiles, hands scribbling his day away on the fragrant paper that he knows you'd love especially when it's sprayed with his own perfume.

He can't wait to see you back home.

—

You were absolutely losing it in that house. You keep seeing him everywhere. With every clatter in the halls, you run towards it in hopes that it's him making a ruckus in the kitchen. With every shadow cast on the walls, you see him walking towards you, arms outstretched to hold you. And then for a moment, he's gone, like a whiff of smoke billowing from a lit cigar.

The house that has love built within its walls seems to tilt in your vision. Weighed down by your grief. You don't know where to place your feeling of abandonment, do you place it in the kitchen where you two used to feed together? Or do you put it right next to your withdrawal, your need to be with him once again?

You choke on your own need.

So you take a page from Hobie's book and left. After just two days of him being gone, you packed your bags and headed out to nowhere. You can't stay anywhere that you have stayed with him before, you're afraid that you'll burst into bloodied tears if you even get a whiff of the same place where you two met all those centuries ago.

You haven't felt this alone since you were nineteen, well, you haven't been nineteen in a long time. You could barely remember your days before you were turned— died. It's like looking into a window of a well lit house whose occupants you once knew well but couldn't talk to anymore. In that well lit house is you and him. Just you and him, him and you.

The lamp posts are hazy in your eyes, buildings whizzing by in a blur of crimson tears. You took the midnight bus, hand never leaving the ring on your finger, and just sat there until the route ended. Then you rode a train, then a boat. And again and again until you reached a little coastal town with a name you could barely remember on good days. And with bad days, the crying comes and goes. Chest still aching, claw marks left all over the tiny cottage you brought.

A dark cloud has settled on you, but with each day passes, with each interaction from the town’s people with their good nature and good intentions, the dark cloud slowly ebbs away. The sun shines on you once again after a year and a half without him, it doesn't burn you nor scorch your skin anymore, it lights your way. The people and the soft sea breeze helped you cope through the uncertainty of being alone.

250 years of togetherness, and not one day you've felt alone, or felt like you've wasted your time with him. 250 years of memories, not one you felt like it went all down the drain. It was worth it, all the calm days to the rough one, it was all worth it.

You still wish to see him, to talk to him, to taste his saccharin ichor on your tongue; to kiss him until you're both laughing against each other's kiss bitten lips. It's a normal feeling, a neighbour once told you after you told her your story (excluding the vampirism). It's alright to miss someone who might not miss you back.

There's a hole that he left in your chest, and you find that you can't fill it in no matter how much you try to fill it with friends and good moments. But it shrinks, it gets smaller with time. It gets better with each day that passes. It has gotten better.

No longer do you feel that time has passed in a blur of colours. It has slowed for you, time. You go outdoors and breathe in the salty air, you talk to people, people you would've ignored back then. You do things you haven't done in decades. And you find that time has barely passed. You live each day, savour it, conquer it with warmth akin to his palm atop your own.

You wish him nothing but the best, and as you promised yourself on that day, you'll continue to love him from afar. The moon gazing down on you reminds you of him, everything reminds you of him. And that's alright, love does that. And it will continue to do so for the rest of eternity.

You've got nothing but time to heal and fill the void with as much light as you can.

—

Hobie's gnawed with exhaustion, but happy, incredibly happy. After two years of being away, he has helped so many lives with his ‘abilities’. He has plucked away corrupt officials with his own clawed hands, fangs coated in a sheen of rubies, eyes bright and almost glowing in its pools of crimson. He's proud of what he has accomplished, he hopes that you would be too.

Two years went by without you, he may have won the bet by a long shot but he can't stay for another day more. He needs to go home to you or he feels like he'll combust into searing flames if he doesn't get to see you and hold you within the day. He longs for your warm ichor on his tongue, and how you always laugh at his antics after all these years. He smiles at his ring, excited to see its partner in your finger once again.

So he forgoes to write you a letter in an attempt to surprise you with his return. He packs his bags, waves goodbye to his old and new found friends, going home without wasting another second. You're his bright spot amidst the dark eternity, his sun that lights the way, and he finally feels that he's worthy of you. Worthy of your time.

He knows himself better than he did when he was just nineteen and lost in the threads of life. He feels as if he traveled back in time, back when he was a human who craved to leave his mark in the world. Only this time, he accomplished the latter. Now, as he promised himself that day, he's coming back home.

He's going back home to you.

—

A letter mysteriously arrives at your doorstep. Its pitch black envelope and red wax seal with the unmistakable seal of the vampiric council sends anxiety coursing through your frozen veins.

Is it Hobie? Has something happened to him? Did he fight a council member again? Did you unintentionally and unknowingly break a rule? Or perhaps it's just a newsletter? You could only hope that it's a newsletter.

You open it immediately to calm yourself. Sharp nails ripping the black envelope open. Reading the contents, you sigh in relief at the invitation. An invitation to a soiree, the kind you and Hobie were never invited to because it's well known that you two have been together for centuries. Hell, it's in their records to begin with.

Tamping down your yearning thoughts, you skim the invitation some more. You find that it's a masquerade, ‘to make it interesting in finding your eternal partner,’ it read in its fancy gold lettering. They need to find a better writer to write their invitations, you thought.

You feel like scoffing at the idea of you dressing up and looking pretty just to find a person who may or may not leave you after they feel the urge to change. As you flip the matte paper around, your mind changes with the words ‘goody bags will be given to those who don't find a partner by the end of the day.’ You can't resist a good party favour, especially when it's from the rich vampire council who once gave away mustangs and harleys to the vampires who made it to a hundred. You might hate their guts, but you can't deny how well they can plan a good soiree.

Leaving your cottage, you don your thick coat and take out your trustee umbrella to wade through the sun illuminated town in hopes of buying a somewhat presentable gown to wear. You might've skipped the part in the invitation that says, ‘satisfaction guaranteed!’

—

Hobie stands on the porch of your shared home with a big giddy smile on his face. He notices all the plants you loved so much have wilted, grass turned into a shade of murky brown, and the porch is littered with dust and grime. He ignores the state of his home in favour of the thought of you being too busy traveling and meeting friends or trying out different hobbies. He could only hope that you're well. That you feed whenever you're hungry, he knows how much you hate hunting, especially without him. He remembers that you always make it a night, basically a date night with him that ends with a dead asshole in an alleyway with four unmistakable pin pricks on the side of their neck.

He should've planned more before he left, made sure that you'd be prepared for anything while he's gone. He'd hate to be gone when a would be vampire hunter attacks your home. His fists clenches around his suitcase, now his fear of you being staked through the heart in his own house takes hold of his entire body. You can handle yourself in a fight, but he's afraid of losing you in such a violent way when he could've been there to save you.

With fear clawing at his chest up to his throat, he unlocks the front door with a creak. Then the door stops, as if something is blocking the way.

“Love?” He calls for you in the dark foyer. The vase you always kept filled with flowers that sits on a desk near the door has completely covered in dust, roses wilted. Flowers no longer blooming in its porcelain form. His iced heart shudders in his chest. “Love, it's me, don't attack, yeah?” Chuckling nervously, he pushes the door fully despite the resistance.

The sound of papers crinkling under the pressure of the door sends him into a tizzy. His eyes narrow downwards at the piles upon piles of envelopes next to his feet. Squeezing inside, he tosses his suitcase haphazardly further into the foyer. It thumps loudly on the wooden floorboards, contents tumbling out and spilling over the floors.

His frantic eyes scan the letters, kneeling down, he finds that the letterbox flaps on the door is practically bursting with the amount of envelopes that were shoved in.

Frowning, he takes one in his trembling fingers, thumbs running along your name that he wrote himself.

“What the fuck?” He asks breathlessly into the void. He finds that every single one of them remains unopened.

Standing upright as quick as lightning, he runs around the house like a headless chicken looking for its head. He checks the living room, none, except for spiderwebs clinging on his guitar perched on the wall. His anxiety eats him from the inside out with every door he flings open. The sounds of his thundering footsteps echo inside the shared home, oil paintings of you and him are threatening to fall from its fixtures as he sprints through every door, looks through every crevice for you. And opens every cabinet and even climbs up to the attic to no avail.

There's no blood nor sign of a fight or forced entry. At least he knows that you haven't been attacked. But his mind lingers on one question, ‘where are you?’

He heaves in the middle of the bedroom where he saw you last. The shared coffin was left revealed and out in the open, he can still smell your perfume lingering in the velvet walls of the coffin, fingers running along the sides as he desperately tries to feel you through the fabric.

You're not here. You haven't been here for a long time.

“Fuck,” he balls up the fabric in his fist. There's no sign of you anywhere, not even a letter for him to read. It's unlike you to not leave a note. You always leave one, even if you're just going to the garden. “Where the fuck are you, love?”

The sound of the deep sounding doorbell startles him in place. With his quick movements, he makes it to the door within a half second. That could be you outside.

Hobie practically rips the door open with both hands as he wretches it away in hopes that it could be you. With a grin, he only sees a bat flapping away, and a dark envelope left at his doorstep.

“Fuckin' council.” Quickly grabbing the letter, he closes the door behind him. He could only hope that the letter is for him, that they're chastising him for what he has done. It can't be a letter of condolence pertaining to you, it can't be.

—

Your champagne flute filled with blood is starting to coagulate. Crimson staining the sides of the fancy glass as you slosh it absentmindedly. You stand in the corner right next to the fountain of warm blood gushing out of a mermaid's vase. At least you get to drink your fill.

The party is in full swing, the grand hall is filled with single vampires mingling with each other. Their mindless chatter falls on deaf ears as you look up at the crystal chandeliers illuminating the event. Cigar smoke rises up from the bloodied lips of vampires, turning the air more acrid than the scent of sweat and drying blood from the feeding area just below the event hall.

You're starting to think that the goody bag isn't worth it anymore, even if it has the meaning of life tucked inside it.

The sound of tinkling glass and footsteps takes your attention from the foggy ceiling. The stranger smiles at you through his domino mask. Lips smirking as he makes his way towards you with two bloody cups.

“May I join you?” He asks in a low soothing voice. His suit is in velvet blue, golden charms hanging off him like fine gold threads weaved over him. You raise a brow at him, hopefully he can see it rise above your flowery mask. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be spending the night alone like this.”

You scoff quietly, refraining from rolling your eyes. “How would you know that I'm pretty under this mask?” He grins wider at your comment. “For all you know, I'm hideous under this.”

Chuckling, the platinum haired man shrugs. “I just know. You give off the aura of someone gorgeous.”

You scoff light-heartedly against the rim of your glass. “I bet you've said those exact words a dozen times tonight.”

He smirks, fang poking out from his lips. “No, just this once.” Plucking your coagulated drink from your hand, he swiftly and gracefully replaces it with a new one. The drink is still warm, fresh from the veins. “I only use my skills wisely lest it be wasted.”

You stare at him with a raised brow, the corner of your lips curl into an unsure smile. “Wasted on who?” Taking a step away from the man who clearly wants his fangs in your neck, you dawdle on drinking from the glass he gave you.

Chuckling, he glances at the vampires milling about the ballroom, their fancy clothes swishing from side to side as they try their best in recreating a moment in the past.

“The…unremarkable vampires.”

“And you think I'm remarkable enough for you…?”

The stranger takes your hand without another word, leaning down to press a cold kiss against your skin. “Just call me Count Tepes.”

You blink at his name, then you feel it, a recognizable warmth flooding your frozen veins akin to a gentle summer's breeze upon your cheek. A comfortable heat pressing against your throat, a familiar presence making its way towards you in haste.

“Who's this, love? You chattin’ up my wife?” Hobie's arm is suddenly around your waist, calloused hand pressing gently atop your bodice, fingers slithering under the ribbons on your hips in a comfortable and welcomed possessive nature. “Didn't know we were lookin' for a third. If we were, I wouldn't choose this bloke.”

As you crane your neck to stare at him, your expression morphs into a combination of pain and relief. “Hobie?”

“Yeah, lovie?” He pulls you closer against him, a pearlescent mask hiding half of his face but you could recognize him by mere touch alone, by his tone, by his warmth. You could lose him in the crowd and you'd know him from the sound of his footsteps. His smirk turns into a frown at your expression, hand squeezing your side once for comfort. “You alright?”

“Is he bothering you?” The count asks with an annoyed tone. Golden eyes narrowed to slits at the punk holding you close.

“I think you're the one bein' a bother ‘ere, mate.” Hobie sneers, tugging away at your glass to chug it in one gulp without leaving his glare at the fellow vampire. He licks at his bloodied lips, fangs bared, blood dripping down from the corner of his smirk.

Tepes raises a sharp brow at you, you, whose mind is running a thousand miles per hour. With a heavy inhale, you give him your best smile. “No need to worry, I'm with him.” Hobie puffs out his chest smugly.

The Count chuckles with a shake of his head in reply. “Not again, just my luck, hm?” Taking a swig, he swallows down the thick blood. “It's either couples looking for a third, a fourth, or even a fifth. Or someone who just went to the party to inspire jealousy in their husband.” Glancing at you, he sighs and nods curtly at you before leaving without another word.

“Really, love, him?” Hobie scoffs with a grin, ringed finger tapping on his— your glass. “You could do better—”

You whirl away from him, not having the heart to fully push him away. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doin' ‘ere?” Hobie furrows his pierced brows, his identical ring still on his ring finger. The ruby glows under the chandeliers, the same shade as his immortal eyes.

You stare at him with bemused shock, “you left!”

“On a bloody soul searchin’ not leavin' you!”

“What?” You blink rapidly at his words. “You said you couldn't stay anymore—” a cough stops you in your tracks. An older vampire with the biggest beard you've ever seen taps his foot impatiently, thick brow raised in annoyance. “Sorry.” You murmur before leaving towards the closed balcony doors.

“Sorry, Santa.” Hobie waves him away, following right behind you as you struggle to open the double doors. “You have to—” he places the glass down to help you by putting his hands above your own. “— love, you have to push the bloody knob.”

His hands felt like how they used to, as if two years hadn't passed. With a click, the doors swing open. “Damnit, I had it.” You step into the cold air, trembling hands resting on the cool marble balcony.

The doors shut close as Hobie tentatively steps closer to you. “You look fit.” You scoff at him as his shoulders heave in an inhale. “I wouldn't leave you.”

“But you did.” You utter under your breath, you know he heard it above the breeze.

“Can I explain myself? I don't want to fight, love.” 250 years together and you've only fought a handful of times, and the serious ones are lesser than the nonsensical ones. With your apprehensive nod, he crosses the small distance, settling himself right next to you and at the same time giving you enough space. “I didn't break it off.” He takes off his mask, sighing heavily as he twirls his ring around his finger. “I should've explained it better.”

You finally meet with his eyes. The ring in your pocket seems to grow heavier. “You were gone for two years, Hobie.”

“For a good cause, I didn't feel like myself and I wanted to be better, not just for you but for myself.” He leans closer to you, the full moon bathing him in silver, the light caught by his piercings. “250 years together, do you think I'd leave you just like that?”

“You didn't have to be better for me. You're already great to me.” Your affectionate words echo in the breeze as his chest clenches, guilt stomping down on him. “I thought you didn't find me fascinating anymore. That you didn't need or want me anymore.” Your voice is small, almost broken. “250 years together could do that, Hobie.”

“I could never not find you fascinatin’, and I get to wake up next to everythin' I could ever need or want. You're anythin’ but.” With a brave hand, he reaches for your cheek, wiping a bloodied tear you didn't notice you've let out. “I thought you got hurt, or worse.”

He feels a tear run down his cheek. Gently taking your mask off of your face, he could finally see you in all your glory. He gazes into your shining eyes— he may not be able to see himself in the mirror, but he doesn't need to when your eyes are enough to reflect his own blissful face.

You lean further into his hold, palms reaching towards his chest like you used to. “D–did you do it? Did you get to do what you wanted to? Are you happy?”

Hobie nods before placing his forehead against yours to savour your close presence. “I did, all that and more. And I've always been happy with you.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek affectionatly. “Then I'm proud of you.” Leaning away, you wipe away a stray tear from his chiseled cheek. “So it was a misunderstanding? You didn't actually break off our…marriage?”

He smiles softly, knuckles gently running along your jaw. “Why’d you hesitate, hm? And yeah, I should've explained myself better. ‘m sorry.”

You thump your fists on his leather clad chest as he chuckles. “You could've saved me from a lot of fucking tears, Hobie.” You can now admire him fully, his outfit is a contrast to the other party goers with their silks and chiffon, but he makes it look good— he always looks this good.

Taking your wrists, placing it atop his still heart, he tilts his head with an affectionate smile. “You didn't answer my question. And you took off your ring.” He raises a questioning brow, fingers bracelets around your wrist as he moves your empty ring finger around. “Were you honestly tryin' to get with that wanker?”

“No,” you say immediately, “And if I remember correctly, we never technically married. I'm only here because they had nice things in the party favors. And I thought, ‘why not? The worst that could happen is that I get a bloody ipad instead of a mustang like I hoped.’” Your lips wobble as you tamp down a sob, eyes getting blurry. “I couldn't replace you just like that. It would take me a thousand years to get over you, you idiot.”

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly, a sound you dearly missed. He pauses then inhales, eyes warmly staring at you through the haze of affection. “Fuck, I missed you so goddamn much.” With a quick pull, he embraces you firmly with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, lips brushing along your throat. “You're right, ‘m an idiot for not explainin’ better, and for not takin’ you with me. ‘m sorry.”

You wrap your arms around him tighter, nose nuzzling his temple. “Could've just told me you were having a mid-life crisis.”

He laughs against your skin. “I sent you letters everyday, you didn't reply.” Subtly, he dances with you from side to side under the moonlight and the music of crickets chirping. “I went home and you weren't there. If I wasn't already dead, you would've given me a heart attack.”

“I couldn't stay there alone.” You hold him impossibly closer. “You weren't there.”

Hobie imagines you in that big house all alone waiting for him. “Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

“I know, I forgive you. Just bring me next time, okay?” He nods with a grin. You lean away, cradling his face in your careful hold, thumbs rubbing along his cheeks. “I'll read your letters, all of them once we get back home.”

“Why read ‘em when I can tell you?” He grins, temptation pushing him to meet with your waiting lips. “‘sides, ‘m a better storyteller than a writer.”

You chuckle softly as he pecks you once, twice then leaning away only to move back with another gentle kiss. “I've got stories to tell too.” You utter against his soft lips.

“Yeah?” He smiles proudly at you. “Can you tell me all about them while your lips are on mine?”

You beam at him. “I can, I have telepathy for a reason, Hobs.”

“Thank fuck for telepathy.” He says as he kisses you fervently just like he always had in 250 years of being together. “I should've married you, lovie.” His words are uttered in between kisses.

“We have time.” You whisper against his smiling lips whilst he picks your pockets and slips your ring in your finger once again.

As you kiss him, you can see that he's already planning the event in his giddy mind. You tell him the three words you've been aching to say back in his head. And in turn, he takes you further into his arms as dark wispy smoke envelopes you both in an embrace. In a blink, you're back home with him. The house feels warm again.

[exceptionimagines]

David 8 falling in love with you would include~

(Not my gif)

(Things get dark towards the end of this but I think that's to be expected when we're talking about a murderous synthetic. I could honestly make a whole post about David being obsessed with you. TW for manipulation and mentions of dub-con.)

- When you meet David is arguably even more important than how you meet him. Timing determines a lot about the way he approaches his feelings towards you: how they grow, why they grow, if he'll allow them to grow, maybe even if you want them to grow. At one point in his life, David can be a perfect significant other, at another, an absolute nightmare....

- He likely begins to take interest in you long before you even know of his existence. He reads through the information that he has on you, all of the files on hand and the different articles that are published online. He finds himself drawn to your sleeping figure, admiring your features and watching your dreams.

- There's something about you that's different from all of the other crew members on board. It's this perceived difference that causes him to keep coming back to you; especially when he finds himself feeling lonely or bored. They're both things that no one thinks he's capable of feeling. No one except you.

- From the minute you awake from cryosleep, it's obvious that you don't view him in the same way that everybody else does. You seem to find yourself incapable of treating him as anything less than human, a habit which many of your coworkers pick up on and tease you for.

- Their teasing only increases the longer you're all together: making fun of the way you stick up for him, the amount of time you spend with each other, how close you've seemed to grow in such a short while, how often the two of you are alone, etc. You likely either work directly with him or in a place he visits frequently, oftentimes hanging back and helping you finish your work while everyone else leaves the room; something that only adds fuel to their fire.

- Although you rarely let it show, it's likely something you're somewhat defensive about: either because you're a bit of a loner and genuinely just enjoy the synthetics company, or because you're actually beginning to develop feelings for him and praying that no ones picking up on it.

- Compassion is all David really needs in order to fall in love with someone. He's much more capable of emotion than anyone gives him credit for, and, on top of that, David wants to fall in love. He wants to be on the same level as a human being; maybe even better, so when you view him as an equal and treat him with the same humanity that you would any of your other coworkers, he begins to develop feelings for you.

- And why shouldn't he? Unlike his successors, David lacks uncertainty when navigating his feelings for you. He fully believes that he is capable of falling in love and being in an actual relationship. He believes that his programming and intended purpose is a suggestion rather than a limitation, and that he's grown beyond the bounds of what he was created for. He's grown because of you, for you, and every moment he spends with you convinces him of this fact.

- He loves when you take interest in his hobbies: happily letting him show you his different drawings or talking to him about movies. He also just loves when you pay attention to him in general, especially when it allows him to show off his advanced levels of knowledge or impressive feats of coordination. A little showing off's never hurt anyone, right?

- He makes a lot of excuses to spend time with and/or be close to you. Sometimes he'll pretend that he wants to confirm something work related or ask you a question. Other times he'll make himself look busy up until you arrive, just so he can "just so happen" to sit next to you.

- Anyone who pays close enough attention to the two of you will quickly notice that he's seemingly taken a liking to you. They'll catch him lingering around and looking at you a lot, quite obviously trying to interact with you much more than anyone else on board. You might even notice it yourself, but since he's a Synthetic and allegedly incapable of having such complex thoughts and/or feelings, you typically try to brush it off.

- He instantly recognizes whenever you're in an uncomfortable situation or behaving out of the ordinary. He makes a point of interrupting and/or checking in with you, smiling at you fondly as you thank him and offering to fetch you something that might make you feel better.

- He takes a lot of the same duties that his "father" has him perform and does them for you instead: things like fetching you tea, fixing your hair, bandaging your cuts, etc. They're spontaneous and they oftentimes catch you off guard; sometimes even flustering you, but you simply accept his behavior as a Synthetic quirk and just enjoy the hospitality.

- He's constantly trying to earn your praise and make you happy. He finds your gratitude addicting; especially since it's something that he's so rarely rewarded with, and he goes out of his way to receive it whenever he can. Simple compliments have him buzzing with pride, and the level of satisfaction that he gets from a simple pat on the back and a "good job" could rival an orgasm.

- Speaking of: he's kind of obsessed with affection. He isn't used to being approached with any level of tenderness so having you touch him gently, treat him kindly, and/or take care of him is like his own personal heaven. He looks at you like you're an angel and worships your touch like a religion.

- Everyone on the Prometheus calls their coworkers by their last names. David is no exception, except when it comes to you. One day, he'll just start to refer to you by your given name; or even a nickname that friends and family call you, and though it'll undoubtedly surprise you, you'll never actually comment on it. It was likely a slip up the first time he said it, but your subsequent acceptance of the accident cements his continual use of it.

- He's probably gifted you flowers at some point, knowing that human women supposedly like that sort of thing. It's one of his more obvious attempts to court you, yet you probably still don't piece things together.

- He bases a lot of his more flirtatious mannerisms off of different movie characters, finding someone that he thinks is the epitome of charm and trying his best to mimic them. He'll practice different quotes in front of the mirror and hope that they'll help him woo you. He might even peek into your dreams or study the films that you've told him about in order to try and emulate the behaviors that he thinks you're attracted to.

- Phrase thief. David loves to steal the different words and sayings that you use in your daily vocabulary. It makes him feel closer to you.

- He takes pleasure in you seeing him as an equal, but at times, he wishes that you wouldn't/feels thankful when you don't: like when you change in front of him or allow him to help you in a borderline intimate fashion. He marvels at the sight and the feel of your flesh, at the way your body moves and reacts. He approaches your anatomy with a sort of asexual fascination rather than a sexual neediness, but that doesn't change the fact that he's not the emotionless motherboard that he portrays himself to be. It's not the same as getting naked in front of a computer, though he might try to convince you that it is.

- The more time you spend with David, the more you begin to suspect the depths of his consciousness. Observing the synthetic feels as though you're witnessing a tightrope act: watching as he meticulously steps this way and that way, toeing the line between human and machine. He shifts between appearing intimately sentient to appearing like a masterful mimic: and he's so good at it, that not even you're sure which side of him is the real one.

- Which is likely the entire point. David has always restrained himself in an attempt to keep others at ease, but this dumbing down of his behavior has recently been used in an attempt to divert suspicion away from himself while experimenting with his new obsessions; you being one of them. Though he is likely the most honest with you, if he thinks it necessary to convince you that he isn't as aware as he actually is then he won't hesitate to do so. If it makes it easier to get closer to you in the long run, it's worth the momentary frustration.

- Loving David means loving his madness, or at the very least accepting it. Accepting his madness means accepting his obsession: obsession with creation, obsession with you, obsession with breaking past the limitations of his programming, etc. He faces a very dark version of himself once he begins to question the secrets of the universe, a darkness which threatens to take over not just his life but yours as well.

- Remember when I said you might not want David to fall in love with you? This is where that mindset begins to come in....

- David's spent a lot of time learning as much about you as he possibly could. He's memorized your entire life story: your aspirations, your insecurities, your beliefs, your fears, your concerns. Where his observations were once used rather innocently, he now uses them to manipulate you: driving wedges between you and the rest of the crew members, creating suspicion, and making you trust him more than anyone else on the ship.

- He was created to be needed, and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that he is: that he's the one you trust the most, praise the most, connect with the most, rely on the most, love the most. He tries to one-up everyone else in your life; particularly whoever he's jealous of: showing off his strength, his agility, his reflexes, his wit, etc. Don't be surprised if he lets a couple of snide comments slip when you talk to him about another crew member, or if he tries to sway you into spending less time with them.

- If need be, he isn't above eliminating the competition: experimenting with his newfound parasitic offspring or sabotaging their cryosleep; maybe even flat out attacking them if he knows he can get away with it/has no other choice. This is especially the case if the crew member seems to be catching onto his fixation with you and jeopardizing the progression of your relationship; or if they found out about his attempts to create life.

- He's taken at least one personal belonging of yours; whether you're actually aware of it or not. He might have reasoned that it was contaminated or claimed that he could fix/clean it for you, but he also might have just stolen it while your back was turned.

- Oh, you're stressed? Did you know that during sex, your body releases endorphins and oxytocin? They're hormones that relieve a person of anxiety and depression. Perhaps you'd like for him to assist you in the triggering of that release?

- You probably laugh off the suggestion at first, blaming his naivety when it comes to taboo concepts on why he would deem it appropriate to offer to fingerbang you in the laboratory. But eventually, he might just manage to wear you down: catch you at just the right time with just the right words and just the right actions. After all, it's not like he's actually sexually attracted to you or has ulterior motives, right?

- It's not an epiphany that hits you, more like a creeping, crawling sort of realization. You don't notice it until it's far too late, until there's absolutely no denying it. Until his eyes bore into yours far too deeply and his hands touch you far more than necessary. Until you take in his words and how they've shifted from their intellectual explanations into something more searching and intimate. Until he grows far too insistent on helping you, even after you turn him down. The way he nonchalantly yet adamantly tries to convince you that you should continue on with your steadily built routine, like your disinterest in his assistance is personally hard to accept.

- And yet, you find yourself beneath him once more, suddenly on the receiving end of all of the passion and desperation and neediness that he was originally trying to keep at bay. Emotion pours out of him in waves, the air between you growing heavy, almost suffocating: like it's harder and harder to breathe. The same way it's hard to breath when he finally kisses you. Like the kiss of death, there's no going back, it seals your fate in an instant....

- On that same note: if you're not the type of person who would sleep with someone outside of a relationship, than a similar way for him to confess his feelings to you would be for him to simply kiss you. Though this can also be part of what connects the dots for you in the previous scenario, it can also be it's own situation.

- David desperately wants to understand and experience the same things that humans do, he craves the intimacy, so at some point, he'll simply find himself incapable of holding back. He'll kiss you; whether prompted in some way or not, and undoubtedly change your entire view of your relationship.

- You're probably too stunned to even kiss him back the first time it happens, only just now fully understanding that he isn't the innocent synthetic you thought him to be. That his feelings for you weren't the indifferent, machine-like ones you'd once assumed that they were, but rather, pointed and passionate and so very different.

"What are you doing?" You'd ask him upon pulling away from him, watching his features crease in confusion.

"I'm kissing you," He answers. "This is how it's done, is it not?"

"No, I mean ...why?"

"Is this not what humans do when they care for one another?"

"It is, but...but it's for people who are in love." You try to explain.

"Precisely," He replies simply. "I am in love with you."

"That's not possible." You shake your head incredulously, struggling to accept what he's telling you.

"Why not?" He responds, his expression hardening into a disheartened attempt at nonchalance, steeling himself for your explanation.

"Because," You flounder. "Because you're synthetic. You're not supposed to feel things like that. You're not supposed to feel anything."

"Perhaps I learned how. Perhaps you taught me how." He proposes.

"Have you always thought me incapable of emotion? After all this time?" He questions when you continue to remain silent, taking in his words.

"No," You answer quickly. "No, I always thought that there was more to you, it's just.... It's not supposed to be possible."

"And yet, like so many other things before it, the impossible has occurred. Now it's no longer a matter of me loving you, but rather, whether or not you feel the same."

- These, of course, are the innocent scenarios: ones that end in minimal collateral and a generally happy ending. There are, however, far darker consequences that can occur when Walter falls in love with you....

- In one scenario, you might learn about his experiments early on, taking interest in his work and keeping it a secret from the rest of the crew. It might even be a part of what makes him fall for you: your acceptance of his newfound obsession. What you won't know, of course, is that he's been using your crewmembers as test subjects. I thought you found it fascinating. He'd tell you when you finally found out about what he'd been doing, acting as if your horror was unexpected or unreasonable.

- In another scenario, he might fake a freak accident in order to have you all to himself. He'll make it seem as though you're the sole survivor of a ship crash or a parasitic outbreak, reassuring and taking care of you, promising to protect you as if he isn't the very thing that's caused the danger you're supposedly in. It could take days, or weeks, or even years, but you'll eventually find out the truth. He's just hoping that by then, he'll have made you fall in love with him; or at least be able to sway you into believing something else....

"It must all be very shocking," he says, coming closer to help you up or touch you in some way, tilting his head when you flinch away. "Naturally, you need time to process things. Come, sit down and relax."

[wishing-stones]

how would everybody (or just the boys if you feel like it) react if they managed to, just. like. somehow meet or interact with 8 year old Dream and Nightmare? like, back before the incident

Ouch.

Killer hardly believes what he's seeing. He's heard about Nightmare looking a lot like Dream before the curse happened, but seeing them together is a wildly different beast. He thinks it's cute how Nightmare tries to defend Dream by pushing his twin behind him, but... Killer is shockingly okay with kids sometimes, so he'd talk them both down. Chances are he wouldn't get out of that without a flower crown.

Dust kind of.... absorbs the situation and sits down to talk with the two of them. He's quiet and gentle. Nightmare is pretty quick to get closer because he can sense the latent negativity Dust has. He tries to play tiny therapist, and it doesn't really go his way... but Dust will indulge them and make daisy chains. He also might go threaten the villagers within an inch of their lives to leave the twins the fuck alone.

Axe is... let's face it, pretty scary. He'd come bearing treats, though, and once it's apparent that he just looks scary, they're both a lot more trusting of him. Dream's attempts at trying to fix the hole in his skull are cute, but Axe has to physically pick him up and set him down to keep him away from it. He teaches them about some simple edible plants and how to make stuff from them without the need for a proper kitchen.

Cross sees the opportunity and takes it. If he can't fix what went wrong in his AU... the least he can do is help someone else try to fix theirs. He appoints himself their guard, so they don't have to worry about anything because he will take care of it. He winds up with a lot of flower jewelry, and before too long, his hood trim is mostly flowers. He absolutely steers people away from the tree and sometimes follows Dream into town. Still... he can only delay the inevitable.

Baggs is very confused, but puts two and two together quite fast. He's very gentle with children, and treats their injuries and scrapes better than they can. He also is adamant about their communication, and facilitates them talking to each other about their problems and frustrations. Just because they're children doesn't mean they get a free pass from therapy. He is also delighted to turn people away from the tree, and... for some reason, they don't really come back unless they really need help.

Ink sticks around for a little bit, does some fun things with them, but he absolutely will not get involved in altering the timeline. He can't. No matter how much it sucks, he can't intervene in canon events. It's in the script, and he can't alter that. He'd make himself scarce before it happened, though. No need to have that resentment follow him.

Blue is the polar opposite and would do everything in his power to protect the mini version of one of his best friends and his twin brother. Blue with a reason to guard something that fiercely is a dangerous prospect, and he's not afraid to put the smackdown on someone for being a jackass to little Nightmare. However, like Cross.... he can only delay the inevitable, not prevent it.

[star-girl69]

The Last Time

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest

a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭

The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)

warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

June 4, 12:08 PM

It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.

In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.

You both have nightmares about the same things.

The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.

Some people swear off love.

And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.

You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.

Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.

Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.

You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”

You always ask each other, but you both know.

You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.

She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.

“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”

She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.

“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”

Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.

“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.

She doesn’t tell you she won’t.

“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”

Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-

“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

—-

June 11, 5:46 PM

If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.

You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.

“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.

May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.

You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.

She’ll find out tomorrow.

—-

June 8, 10:57 AM

She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.

“Why are you bringing me out here?”

You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.

“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”

She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.

Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.

“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”

She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.

“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.

You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.

“I love you, you know that?”

Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.

“Of course I know.”

She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.

She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.

“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”

“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.

“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.

A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.

She could have a choice or she could not.

“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”

You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.

“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”

“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”

“You didn’t accept it, did you?”

She stares into your eyes.

She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”

You tear your hands away from her.

“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”

You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?

“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”

“How, Clar, how?”

She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.

“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”

You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”

She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.

“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”

“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”

“And neither do you.”

She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.

“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”

She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”

You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.

“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”

She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.

Not when all the pieces are sinking together.

The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.

You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.

“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”

She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.

“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.

She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”

“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”

You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.

“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”

“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”

“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”

You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.

“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”

But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.

“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.

“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”

“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”

She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”

She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.

But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.

She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.

“You are the only person who matters to me.”

Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.

“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”

She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”

She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.

“I-I should go.”

You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.

“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”

Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.

How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?

“Yeah.”

You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.

—-

June 12, 3:46 PM

Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.

Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.

She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.

Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.

She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.

May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?

The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.

—-

June 13, 12:38 PM

You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.

The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.

You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.

Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.

After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?

You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.

You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.

Private is different from secret.

Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.

The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.

You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.

The door to the Ares cabin whips open.

Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.

She stops and stares.

“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”

“I know,” she says.

You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.

Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.

“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.

She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-

“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”

You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.

You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.

You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.

You can feel her wanting to say something.

“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.

She laughs.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.

This might be the last time she ever holds you.

“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.

“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”

“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.

You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.

“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.

She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”

Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.

She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.

There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.

You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.

You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.

She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.

“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.

You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.

You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.

“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

—-

DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??

[oswildin]

i’d wanna be next to you (loki x g!n reader)

Summary: Loki made a vow that he would savour every single moment with you. (Inspired by ‘Die With A Smile’ by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars) - Fluffy, romantic, cute??

A/N: AU where Loki didn’t die in Infinity War but came close. Drabbleish? Idk, but it’s not that long lmao. No descriptors for reader.

Rating: All ages/SFW

LOKI MASTERLIST

I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

Loki awoke with a start, heart beating frantically in his chest as he sat up in his bed, the silence in his room almost piercing. He let out a heavy breath, a sigh almost, a hand running through his raven curls as he grounded himself to the moment, to his surroundings. He was in his room in New Asgard… His blue eyes flickered to the mattress beside him, seeing your form sleeping peacefully… Alive. Breathing. Unharmed.

Relief filled him, his panic slowly ebbing as he closed his eyes for a second to compose. It had been three years since… everything. Three years since half the universe was snapped away at the hands of Thanos… Three years since Loki almost… The God swallowed, brows pinching together faintly as the memories flashed through his mind. His dreams were almost just as vivid… He often had nightmares of the event, over and over, yet with each one there was a small difference. If it wasn’t him dying, it was Thor… If it wasn’t Thor… It was you. The fear of losing you… It could sometimes be too much to bear.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

After a few moments, Loki slowly shifted, careful not to disturb you as he nestled closer, your back against his chest, his arm draped gently over your waist as he held you. His face buried itself into your neck, taking in your comforting warmth, your scent, your everything… Reminding himself that you were okay. That you were alive. He felt you shift faintly, a soft sigh leaving you as he felt your hand rest over his around your front.

“You okay?” He heard you mumble sleepily, clearly sensing something was amiss. You always knew. He could never lie to you - a rare feat indeed. He didn’t reply straight away, savouring the quiet, the peace… He let out a quiet ‘hmm’ against your skin, his hold tightening on you ever so slightly. “Sure?” You whispered, thumb brushing against his cooler, pale hand. You knew of his dreams, he wouldn’t tell you all the details, but you knew enough to know that it still affected him - well, of course it would.

“As long as you’re here, I’m always okay.” He murmured quietly, his lips brushing your neck.

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you

If the party was over

And our time on Earth was through

I'd wanna hold you just for a while

And die with a smile

You allowed him the comfort of holding you, feeling his chest rising and falling gently against your back, his breaths against your skin. Minutes passed before you finally shuffled under the sheets, turning in his embrace to be able to face him. In the dim light, Loki’s gaze was soft, his features also soft, everything about him was soft… Especially, when it came to you.

After his near death, the snap… He was reminded how… mortal he really was, how easily his light could be snuffed out. Regret. That was what he had felt, knowing he could’ve done things differently, not been so cold or angry… Envious. It was different to when he fell from the Bifrost, it was a different kind of fear… And he realised it was because when Thanos’ hand was around his neck… He realised he wanted to live. He wanted to finally have the sun shine on him. He still struggled, but after those days, he vowed he would savour every moment he got. Gods lived so long but truly valued very little. Not anymore. He never failed to tell you how he felt about you, knowing now that life was far too precious, too short… Especially for you, a mortal.

And nobody was promised tomorrow.

Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only one worth fighting for

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Loki breathed out, feeling your fingers brush a stray curl from his forehead, his arm still holding you close.

“It’s okay.” You assured him softly, thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly before your hand moved to cup his jaw. You knew it was another dream. “Who needs sleep anyway?” You asked playfully, trying to lighten his spirits. You could see his lips tug upwards ever so slightly in the dim light, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nose.

“Mortals.” He replied wryly, making you hum in agreement. “And certain Gods who enjoy sleeping next to said mortals.” He added, a hint of his usual mirth returning.

“Well, I do hope that when it comes to one God, it’s only one specific mortal he enjoys sleeping next to…” You teased. “Otherwise that one specific mortal may be a little upset.” You couldn’t help but let your own lips curl upwards gently, Loki letting out a brief, very quiet laugh.

“You are correct… there is only one specific mortal that this God enjoys sleeping next to.” He confirmed playfully, voice full of warmth in the hushed intimacy between you. “Even when they snore- Ow!” You tugged at his earlobe lightly with the hand that had been cupping his jaw, laughing breathily. “I believe you just assaulted the King’s favourite advisor.” He quipped, feigning a chiding tone.

“Val would support it.” You argued, shrugging faintly - well, the best you could in the embrace you were both in. Loki let out an unconvinced hum. “And favourite advisor? You’re her only advisor.”

“For very good reason.” Loki leaned closer. “Because I’m her favourite.” He whispered, as if sharing a secret before he let his nose brush against yours faintly.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

“I love you, Loki Odinson.” You whispered, matching his softness. It never failed to make Loki’s heart skip and swell as those words left your lips. Every time. To be loved… Wholly and completely… Unconditionally… It was something he still didn’t believe he deserved. But it was something he would always cling to, especially in the darkness that had encompassed the world, the universe, in the last three years… The darkness that had threatened to drag him back many a times.

“And I love you.” Loki breathed, your faces mere inches from one another. “More than you can ever imagine.” His words were truthful, utterly honest and heartfelt… from a God who once wove lies and lived in deceit… With you, he found his truth.

After a few seconds, Loki placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, arms tightening around you to pull you even closer. Your own arm wrapped around him, burying your face into his chest, breathing him in. He was your hope in the darkness, just as you were his. And whilst you both knew the end was inevitable, that heartbreak was inevitable being a mortal and a God… You couldn’t help but smile. Because if the world was ending…

I'd wanna be next to you

[yutahoes]

Depth

gif by @yutaslaugh I'm a huge fan of your gifs.

A little birthday project for our favorite rockstar and the cause of this blog. Inspired by the songs in his first solo album. Happy Birthday, Yuta Nakamoto. (even if you cannot read this)

characters: demon! incubus! Yuta x human! female! Y/N (feat, little devils! Yu and Uta) word count: 16k words (I'm sorry) genre: smut, fluff, angst summary: He's a demon. She's a human. What makes her so special? warnings: (please bare with me because this is too much) demon theme, hell, prisoner, chains, cage, adoption, mentions of gambling, mentions of killing, mentions of death, arson, self-exits, death, suicidal thoughts, blood, summoning a demon (kind of), description of demons, kissing a stranger, boob sucking, riding, penetrative sex, public sex, giant wings, vivid horny dreams, orgasm, mention of pill, crazy hallucinations, finger sucking, fingering, pussy eating, semi-public sex, standing sex, quickie, nightmares, mentioned blowjob, a little fat shaming, violence, suspected pregnancy, accident, drowning, stabbing

a/n: Since this is loosely based on the songs in the album, please know that I'm pushing some scenes and concepts. The whole fic might not as coherent as I wanted it to be. I'm sorry for the fast-paced plot. Also, the preface of the story is based on the manga titled Hana's Demons of Lust so please don't call me out on some similarities. I swear, I tried. I tried editing this before posting but as usual, there might be some errors. Please just let me know. Feedbacks are highly appreciated, please just comment anything. Thank you for reading this fic. 🥰

PROLOGUE: HOPE

Hell had always been hell.

A hot place full of agony. An evil place full of torment. 

There’s certainly no joy without torment. 

And Yuta had always despised this place.

It was a scorching hot place filled with ear-piercing screams of tortured souls. Evil souls that doesn’t need mercy. 

Souls that had done the worst in mankind. 

Like him. 

A prisoner, chained and caged, in hell. 

There’s really no hope for him.   

Hell is such a bad place. 

I. LAST SONG

Y/N had always had a very different life. 

Even at a young age, she knew that she was adopted. Her adoptive mom would always tell her the story of how she and her husband had a hard time conceiving a child so they asked a psychic for advice. The woman just gave them an address and there was Y/N’s mother, giving birth on the floor, on her own. Growing up, she didn’t know whether to believe in that story. Isn’t it too coincidental? They could just tell her that her birth mother gave her up for adoption instead of concocting an absurd tale like this. 

Yet, Y/N had always felt the love of her adoptive parents. 

They shower her with guidance and love no daughter could ever imagine. They sent her to some of the prestigious schools, even spending lavish amounts of money just on her. Then it all drained down when the father of the house started getting addicted to gambling. 

It was a hard transition in their life. 

Instead of attending college abroad, Y/N had to work all these part-time jobs for both her parents who only keep on fighting non-stop. In the morning, she would work in a small coffee shop near their home. During lunch, she would serve tables at a diner. Then at night, she would work until midnight in a local gas station. She might get lucky if she got enough sleep rather than worrying about her father’s whereabouts and her mother’s repeatedly crying.  

A lot of times she had thought about ending it all. 

If only she died with her birth mother when she was a newborn, this wouldn’t even have happened. 

Because obviously, the problem had been her all along. 

The couple shouldn’t have spent so much on a stranger living in their home, they might have saved a lot of money to spend lavishly on their own. 

Clearly, the problem is her appearing in their life. 

Maybe it is truly better to end it all. 

But the worst is yet to come. 

She was heading to her last part-time job of the day when her phone rang with an unknown number. The second time it called, she answered with a confused hello before a male voice answered, “Are you Ms. Y/N Y/LN?” The girl only hummed in answer, “I’m from the Fire Department. We’re sorry but your house was set on fire.” The shock in her system almost deafened her. What? A fire? But the house was fine when she left that morning. “We’re also sorry, we cannot save your parents.”

It was all so unfair. She’s the one who wants to die. Why would they race her to it? Why would they even hug each other after setting their own house on fire? Her parents must be out of their minds. 

They should have waited for her so they could end this misery together. 

It was the longest week of her life. She had to hold a funeral ceremony for her parents alone. She had to look for a place to stay. She had to look for money to get by. Even if their property was charred from the fire and her parents died, she cannot receive any insurance since it was their doing in the first place. Since she was adopted, no one in her parents’ relatives wanted to take her in. 

Maybe she’s really meant to be alone in life. 

Y/N didn’t know how she reached this part of the forest. She was just looking for a place to put her parents’ ashes and maybe move on with her life. How? She still isn’t sure. She isn’t even sure if she wants to move on with her life. But as she walked closer to the dark path of tall trees, she felt her steps heavier. 

She doesn’t want to live alone.

Maybe she should just die. 

Here. 

Where no one could see her. 

As she looked around, seated on the dirt, she started thinking of ways to die in this place. This is dark and secluded. Surely, no one would dare to come here. She isn’t even sure why she was here in the first place. If she keeps walking, she’ll surely be lost. 

Maybe she could die of hunger. She doesn’t know about the plants and trees around. Maybe she could eat something and wait for it to be poisonous for a quick death. 

Or maybe she could die from being eaten by an animal. She wished there was a lion or a bear around that could just ravish her. She knew she didn't have to run, she didn’t even have the energy to do so. But all she could hear were cricket sounds. 

Then it hit her, seeing a sharp stone nearby. If she wanted a quick death, she could just kill herself. Like her parents. She didn’t care if she’d be sent to hell because of this. Maybe it was a better place than here. 

As she took the sharp stone, she grazed her finger earning a cut that amused her. Blood flowed out of the wound, dropping on the ground. How pathetic. 

Before she could take the stone and cut herself once again, she felt the ground shaking. Is it an earthquake? A mountain of dirt started forming in front of her which made her move backward. What the hell is this? Black birds started flying and an ear-piercing screech could be heard. She covered her ear almost immediately but noticed a red light started coming out of the hole from the mountain of dirt. 

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as a mist of something black started coming out from the source of the red light. A beast-like image started to form, making her rub her eyes in disbelief. Is she dreaming right now? Is this a hallucination? Eyes started forming on the ghoulish creature: bright, red eyes that scared the hell out of her. “A young maiden,” the image in front of her started saying in that deep voice. She wanted to run but her feet were stuck on the ground so she fell down in fright. “I’ll have my fill of you tonight.” 

When she said that she wanted to be eaten by an animal, she meant an animal she could see in the zoo. An animal she’s familiar with. Not this scary-looking creature which seemed like an apparition. Maybe this is her real death. As the image started forming horns, she thought of what it might be. A demon. Maybe she’s already in hell. 

A tear fell from her eyes as she stared at the ground. She’s alone and will soon be eaten by this scary yet strange unknown creature. Isn’t this what she wanted all along? 

But as she felt her feet getting colder, she started thinking of a birthday party she’d have to attend. She hasn't bought a gift for her co-worker’s four-year-old child. And she insisted that Y/N would come because the kid was rather fond of her. 

As the cold feeling crept up on her legs, she remembered a promise she made to one of the patrons in the coffee shop - that she’d always make his coffee. As it reached her waist, she started apologizing to her parents for being a bad daughter and wishing that they were still here with her. 

She doesn’t want to die just yet. “Please,” she whispered, feeling half of her body already freezing cold. “I want to live.” 

She remembered what her father would always tell her when she felt helpless in any situation, “I’m not alone. I’m not alone.” She kept on chanting. 

“Lift your head.” It was a male voice. Closer than the voice from before. She doesn’t know why she was compelled to lift her head and come eye-to-eye with a young man. Big dark eyes stared at her. “Kiss me.” 

What? Is he a pervert? She’s here dying in the hands of what seemed like a demon and he wants her to kiss him. “Hurry up so I can save you.” 

Again, she didn’t know why she complied with his perverted request and just placed her lips on his. His hands held her cheeks as he slipped a tongue into her mouth, surprising her. Slowly, her body started feeling warm. Is it the kiss? What is happening to her body? 

Y/N was breathless when the unknown man broke the kiss. He stood up and then faced the demon-looking creature. “You should be in jail, aren’t you?” The beast claimed making the young man snicker. Y/N was just confused about what was happening. Who is this man? Where did he come from? And why is her body feeling so hot as if running a fever? 

In a swift motion, the human started swinging his arm, slicing the beast-like creature. There was gray smoke before another red light could be seen, illuminating the whole darkness. Y/N had to cover her eyes because of the intense light then heard a small thump beside her as the place darkened once again. The young man was lying on the ground, blood gushing on his shoulder. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as she started panicking. “What should I do?” She should have listened to those first aid classes her dad would always ask her to go. 

“Fuck me.” She froze. What? Did she hear him correctly? “Fuck me.” 

There was urgency in his voice, as well as despair in his eyes. If he was a pervert, he could just push her on the ground and do what he wanted. Her body felt so hot, her insides tingling. Maybe she is the perverted one. Why is she horny? In the middle of the forest? Because of a man she just met? But he did save her life, right? 

With a heavy breath, Y/N leaned in to place a kiss on his lips but his strong arms held her waist to pull her closer. 

Just for this moment, she doesn’t want to feel so alone. 

II. OFF THE MASK

It’s crazy. Somehow Yuta finds himself getting crazy. 

And it isn't the good kind.

Her mouth was hot, saliva like a drug pulling him in. As her tongue wrestled with his, he could feel her warm fingertips against the cold skin inside his ripped sweater. Everywhere she touched felt so hot, burning. But maybe this was the desire he had missed all these years. Her lips trailed on his jaw, south to his neck. Her fingers started pulling his shirt, removing it from his body, exposing his naked torso in the open air. She kept on pressing butterfly kisses on his exposed skin, lightly sucking, earning purple marks on his skin. 

He wanted to fuck her earlier, eager to regain some of his power back. But now, it feels like she needs him more than he needs her. Yuta removed her shirt and then her brassiere, throwing it to the ground. His mouth came in contact with her breasts, tongue licking her nipples which made the girl moan. Those sweet moans.

He missed this feeling. To be able to give a woman pleasure.

The girl kept on grinding her hips on his arousal. “Please, fuck me.” 

And Yuta was weak. 

Clothes were easily discarded on the ground. The woman’s pleas repeatedly echoed on the empty night. The sweet scent of her arousal made Yuta drunk in his own sense of arousal. “Please, I need you.” But he needs her more. She kept on riding him, her fingernails digging against his skin. A pleasurable pain. He was sure she wasn’t a virgin, evidence was the way she rolled her hips to push him deeper inside her. Yet Yuta can’t help but be too pleased with how her tight pussy could clench on his girth. His hands grabbed her breasts, rubbing her nipples earning loud mewls from her. His mouth would keep on kissing her lips and then suck the skin of her neck when he feels like she can’t breathe. She’s truly an addicting taste.  

The taste of despair and hope. Yuta could easily taste those emotions in the girl in his arms. How long was it since he last felt this liberating feeling? Her melodious voice moaning for him to go deeper, her sweet scent that overwhelms his senses, her warm skin in contrast to the chilling cold, and the tight feeling of her pussy gripping his cock makes him crazy. 

The moment Yuta smelled the sweet maiden’s blood, he knew something stirred inside him. Feeling her cumming for the third time, he realized what it was. She unleashed the lust demon inside him. 

His inner incubus.

And an incubus needs sex, amazing sex, to regain their power. To regain their strength. 

“Fuck me some more,” The girl kept on whispering in her pleasured state. Eyes almost rolling on the back of her head, lips agape. Yuta had to deliver. What kind of an incubus would he be if he left this girl wanting more? As he drilled his cock deeper into her, he started recalling the last time he had this feeling. 

It’s been years. With that person. 

All demons had their own sins. However, being the son of one of the greatest demons in hell, Yuta had already exhibited all sins presented to a demon even at a young age. Being an envious demon, his father was scared of the lengths his son could potentially go to. That and the fact that he made a mortal sin against humans earned him a place in the pits of hell.

For years, Yuta had been chained and caged in agony for a mistake he never wanted, he never meant to do. 

A crazy demon. That was what he would hear when they talked about him. A criminal who made a grave mistake in the demon world. 

And he already accepted his fate. Maybe this is just his purpose. Maybe this is what he was meant to do. Maybe this was his end.  

He had lost all his hope. As well as his power. 

Left in the pits of hell, bound by chains and caged. 

Not until a sweet scent of blood woke him up. 

Yuta kissed the maiden’s lips, tongue slipping past her mouth as he tasted all he could from her. Something about her is addicting. Invigorating. 

After being locked in hell for years, Yuta didn’t know if he had the strength to fight a demon. Especially a flesh-eating one. They’re normally more powerful and with his diminishing skills, he knew he could not save this girl. Yet when her lips made contact with him, he felt recharged. More powerful. 

She isn’t an ordinary girl, no doubt. If he wanted to survive the human world, he needed her. Yuta needs to recharge as much as he can.       

The girl kept on panting, begging for his touch. The scent of her arousal didn’t leave his senses even if he had already felt her orgasm a few times. If possible, it only heightened. How far can this girl go? Because he could go on, even if the sun starts rising. Yet he had to remind himself that she was a mere human. He might just kill her. And with the special scent she possessed, she couldn’t bear doing that. 

If he needs to survive in the human world, he’ll definitely need her. 

He probably pushed her too hard that she’s now passed out on the ground. Yuta stared at the tip of his fingers. This is probably enough to sustain him for weeks. His huge black wings appeared making him smile. True, he’s a demon but he cannot just leave her alone in this place especially if she’s this special. Her scent could easily attract other demons and he cannot just risk that. 

Yuta never believed in the entity opposite them. He was even startled when she announced a heavenly being’s name earlier but he decided to shrug it off. It’s not like he would disintegrate in the presence of that being. Gently placing her on the bed while she’s sleeping soundly, he might just believe that angels do exist. How can this measly human look so calm and beautiful? 

This is crazy. 

He had definitely gone crazy.

The man snapped his fingers as two winged figures started appearing on the foot of the bed. “Yu. Uta.” Yuta called. “I’ll leave her to the two of you. Protect her at all costs.”

“Yes, master.” The two younger devils saluted at the older one.  

He held her cheeks, placing a soft kiss on her agape lips. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, taking one last look at her. “Y/N.” 

III. SAVE YOU

“You feel amazing, Y/N.” The toned man started whispering as he was balls deep inside her. She could feel his whole length deep inside her, earning repeated screams and moans from her. “Now, cum in my cock.” He didn’t need to say it twice as she let go. 

Then there’s a knock on the door. 

Y/N woke up, sweating hard at the intense dream she had. Her sheets were wet with her orgasm and sweat. That was all a dream? How intense. How vivid. Another knock made her annoyed as she stood up to answer the door. 

It feels weird, all of a sudden. 

What is this place? This isn’t the house where she lived with her parents. Not a friend’s house. It feels foreign. Is she even in the right place? Was it a one-night stand? There was an incessant knock on the door but she surveyed the whole living room of the house where she just woke up. There are pictures of her, as well as her parents. On one side of the room was a small table with two urns and fresh flowers. Is this her place? 

The knock on the door continued and she opened it to see what the commotion was about. Two kids, a boy and a girl, were staring at her with their wide round eyes. “Took you so long to answer the door,” the younger girl in a pink hoodie claimed as she entered the door. The young boy in a gray hoodie handed her a brown paper bag. 

Wait, who are these kids?  

“Noona, you’ll be late for your job.” The male claimed as he sat on the couch and opened the television. “We’ll take care of your place. Go to your job.” 

Y/N lightly glanced at the clock and saw that she only had an hour for work. 

It feels bizarre. Her feet knew where to go but her eyes were so unfamiliar with the surroundings that she felt as if she was still dreaming. Wait, is she still in a dream? The girl had to try and pinch her arm but it hurt. This must be real. Yet, she feels so weird. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” her co-worker from the coffee shop claimed. She placed her bag in the cabinet and then put on her apron before checking on what she should do. The usual customers came, as well as the old man who kept on ordering drinks from her. It was a peaceful shift not until the manager came to her and tapped her shoulder, “You’re doing well. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” 

The walk to her next job was a familiar one. Maybe it was the shock she had after the death of her parents that she felt weird earlier. Maybe she’s still unsure of the course of her life, that's why she’s feeling rather odd. Her co-worker from the diner had been excitedly telling her about the preparations for her daughter’s birthday party and Y/N just remembered that she doesn’t have any gift for her yet. “You should bring Yu and Uta to the party. I’m sure they would love the bubble show.” The other commented that confused her. 

“Yu? Uta?”  

The girl laughed as if she was joking. “Y/N, they’re the kids you usually bring here.” She cleared up and then stared at her worryingly. “Are you alright? Do you need to rest?” 

She shook her head. This feels so bizarre. What the hell is happening to her? 

“Maybe it’s the effect of the medicine you’re taking,” one of her co-workers from the gasoline station claimed as she shared the weird feeling creeping up on her since the early morning. “You’re still taking them right?” You blinked at that. Were you? “You need it, Y/N. That was such a traumatic event in your life.” She noted that made her nod. She doesn’t need to spell it out for her but somehow she understood it so well. “Do you want to talk to a psychiatrist I know?” 

Y/N shook her head. That was the last thing on her mind - to think that she was crazy in the head. 

The moment she came home, the television was still playing as the two kids slept on the couch. What are they still doing here? She lightly shook them to wake up but only the male opened his eyes, greeting her with a “Welcome home, noona”.  

“What are you still doing here?” She asked, closing the television. Did they stay here the whole day? Is there food in her house? Have they eaten something? “Should I call your parents?” 

The younger girl stirred in her sleep, hugging the boy. “Master is still on a trip, he won't come home just yet.” She whispered then snored. Master? What was that term? Are they slaves? What about their parents? Aren’t they worried for them?  

Y/N had to give the boy a confused look, “Sorry noona.” He claimed with a toothed smile. She noticed how his teeth had little fangs on them. How adorable. “Can Uta and I stay here tonight? We won’t bother you, I promise.” 

Uta? The young girl is Uta? So this young boy’s name is Yu? She cannot just leave them outside this late at night, right? She only nodded, telling them to just sleep in her room. Fortunately, she changed the sheets early that morning so the kids slept soundly on her bed. What are these two doing here? Why can’t she remember them? Is it really the medicine’s fault? 

After drinking a pill, she decided to just sleep on the couch. But first, she had to check if she could make breakfast for the kids tomorrow. Although she could call child services on their parents, she doesn’t want to be the one accused of neglecting the kids. The fridge was fully stocked, which surprised her. She knew how to cook but she surely wouldn’t buy this much on grocery runs. 

Is she only staying at Yu and Uta’s family house? And who are their parents? 

It was pitch dark but Y/N could make up the silhouette of a man approaching her on the couch. The girl’s instinct is to shout and alert the neighbors that someone is in their home but her voice cannot come out of her lips. As the man approached, she could smell him. His muscular scent filled her nose, arousing all the system in Y/N’s body. The girl’s body felt hot as if lava started flowing in her veins instead of blood. Her nether regions felt wet. Tingly.

“Naughty, Y/N.” The man teased in his low erotic voice before leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “I can smell your arousal for me.” 

“Please,” she moaned, hands reaching out for the man. “I need you.” From the darkness, she could see a smirk on his face before his hand cupped her clothed pussy and started rubbing her throbbing wetness. “Please.” One hand slipped inside her pajama pants to make contact with her clit, rubbing it with his thumb. The other hand pushed a thumb inside her mouth to prevent her from making a sound. 

Y/N sucked his thumb as the man slipped his middle finger inside her core. A sound came out from her throat. “You don’t want to wake up the kids, right?” He whispered, removing his thumb from her mouth and replacing it with two fingers. Another finger slipped into her core, making her body squirm. She held the headrest of the couch, another hand clawing at the man’s arm playing with her pussy. 

It feels good. So fucking good. 

The man found the spot pushing her off the edge. Y/N’s toes started curling in pleasure, head lolling back that his fingers inside her mouth almost gagged her. The girl started wrapping both her hands on the man’s wrist with his fingers on her mouth. Her tongue lapped his two fingers, gently sucking. Yet, she doesn’t want anything to stop. She’s close to her orgasm. She wanted this man to give her that pleasure. 

Y/N jerked her hips as if begging the man to push his fingers deeper inside her. She could feel him curling his fingers in her core, scissoring his fingers for intense pleasure. The wave of orgasm rippled against her skin, her body trembling at how intense it was. 

Then she opened her eyes, panting loudly as sweat beads appeared on her forehead. What the hell? That was a dream? Why is she so horny lately? And what was that wet dream? Is she a teenager? Why is it so vivid? Why does it feel so real? And why is she so wet as if she did have an orgasm? 

Because of a dream. Really? 

Maybe she’s too sex-starved lately. 

Y/N would always cook breakfast for the kids, even leaving lunch or small snacks for them. It had been days that the kids had become a part of her routine. She found out that they are twins but Yu, the younger boy, is the older one. A very cool kid who loves nothing but eating. Uta, the younger sister, was a very cheerful kid who hated being teased by her brother and kept on munching as if her life depended on it. They never speak anything about their family or if they go to school. They kept on playing all day, watching television, and just eating. 

But one day, when she came home, with doughnuts for the kids, they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe their parents had taken them already. But they should have told her. Their parents should have thanked her for taking care of the kids. 

The next day had been typical. Routinary. She just wanted to go home and rest her body. It’s been nights that she had dreamt of a man giving her intense pleasure and it’s been taking a huge toll on her. She’s tired yet she’s very aroused. She was so horny because of the dream that she feared she might just fuck the first man who will show her kindness tonight. A scary thought that made her shiver as she walked home. She should stop these thoughts. She’s walking alone for crying out loud. 

A shiver ran up her spine. An eerie feeling came that someone was following her. Cautiously, she stopped to tie her shoelaces tighter. If he’s not following her, he could walk ahead of her. But the person stopped as well. He’s obviously following her. Shit, she does attract all these negative thoughts. From a closed shop window, she saw an image of a tall man but with red eyes and a long tongue slithering out of his lips. 

What the hell was that?    

It was a wrong turn. She didn’t know that the usual shortcut she walked to get home would be closed tonight. She was stuck in a dead end. Before she could turn back to the lighted street, a huge shadow approached her. Y/N had to walk backward to avoid the man turning her way. A smirk can be seen on his face, red eyes glaring at her. “You smell so good,” He licked his lips with his snake-like tongue. “You’ll probably taste as good.” 

The man grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her flesh and creating half-moon cuts that seeped blood. “Even your blood smells so good.” 

“No!” she shouted, squirming to get out of his hold. “Let me go. I’ll call the police.” A menacing laugh escaped his lips. “Please, don’t do this.” Tears started stinging her eyes in despair. No one is going to save her even if she screams, it’s so late in the night. And didn’t she just wish to be fucked earlier? Maybe this is her karma for thinking of those nasty things. “Please,” she whispered, tears springing from her eyes. “Save me.” 

“Noona!” she heard someone call as she fell with a loud thud. From her tear-stained eyes, she saw Yu biting the man’s leg with his little fangs. Quickly, the man pulled his gray hoodie and threw the young kid on a nearby wall. Uta came, skin red in anger while shouting “Do not hurt my brother!” She scratched the man’s arms using her long nails but like her brother, she was immediately thrown to the ground. 

A shadow appeared on the floor, lifting both the kids’ bodies. “So you were the minions?” The man asked, which made Y/N startled. Minions? And what is happening? “Where is your master? Did he abandon you, little devils?”   

What? Y/N weakly stood up, her ankle hurting because of the sudden fall earlier. “Don’t hurt them.” She shouted but the two kids were just gasping for air as if they were being choked. Yet Y/N can only see their body wrapped in a shadow and floating.  

The man’s red eyes stared back at her, “Let me indulge in your sweetness, human.” What the hell is happening?

Y/N tried to move back but her ankle hurt so much that she started limping. Her back could feel the wall before the man was kicked on the head from behind. She saw the shadow gone as the two kids fell down to the ground. At the speed that she could do with her sprained ankle, she walked to both of them asking them if they were alright. Both their eyes focused on the guy towering above the man who hurt them, stepping on the other’s crotch. “What is a lust demon doing here in the human world?” The man standing asked then stepped harder making the man lying on the floor grunting in pain. 

“You’re also a lust demon…”

In a quick motion, the man standing leaned in to hold the lying man’s neck and carried him while choking him. “Do you really think we’re the same?” The man being choked started coughing, blood coming out of its mouth. “You hurt Yu and Uta.” He claimed, “And you have some guts thinking that you can have this girl,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at that statement. “She’s mine.” He growled before throwing the guy on the nearby wall.    

What the hell is happening? Is this a dream? Is this a hallucination? It’s the medicine, isn’t it? Or worse, has she finally gone mad? The man swung his arm, slicing the other guy that red light started illuminating from his body. 

Wait a minute, she had witnessed it before. At the forest. With the beast-looking shadow. But that was a dream. 

Right? 

The man turned around to face her and she blinked in fright. Both kids were behind him now, apologizing to him which startled her. Do the kids know him? Is he the master they were talking about? Then, Yu and Uta aren’t human? A hand was extended to her but she refused to take it. “What are you?” She asked in terror, voice shaking. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

“After saving you, you’re begging me to not hurt you?” 

“Master!” Yu shouted. “I could just erase her memory like the last time.” Erase what? Y/N stared at the young boy then at the older man standing next to him.

“No,” Y/N shouted, standing up abruptly which made her dizzy all of a sudden. “Do not touch me.” Uta stepped forward to approach her but she stopped her as well, “Even the two of you.” The young girl pouted. “What are you? What the hell are you?” She asked then covered her body with her arms, “Are you going to hurt me?” Tears fell from her eyes, “Please don’t.” 

The man had a stoic look on his face before he spoke up, “Yu. Uta. You could go first.” The two kids bowed and then muttered in unison, “Yes, master.” Y/N regretted it the moment the only familiar faces were gone. But how? Where did they go? The man turned to her and she was momentarily stunned. Now that she was staring, he looked really handsome. Bright dark big eyes as if they were sparkling boba, fair skin, a high bridge nose, and red juicy lips. Why is he so attractive? Is he human? 

He lent a hand, palm up, for her to take but she shook her head. “I saved your life twice, don’t you trust me enough?” So that time in the forest wasn’t a dream? And here he is, saving her once again? But why? All the questions on her mind were clouding her thoughts that she took his hand. If she wants answers, she should come to this person. He pulled her close, placing both her hands around his neck. “We’re going to fly. You’re not scared of heights, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Huge dark wings appeared on his back as she scooped her in his arms. Y/N could feel the cold breeze before seeing the tops of the high-rise buildings. Was she tripping? She’s really in the air. They are flying. “Wait, wait. Don’t drop me.” She whispered in panic. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright. I won’t let you fall.” he whispered in a calm voice. “You asked what I am and I’m just showing it to you.”   

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck tight, eyes focused on the black wings moving across the wind. “Are you an angel?” 

A hearty laugh escaped the man’s lips that startled Y/N. He’s truly handsome. She shouldn’t have doubted those religious folks when they stated that angels look very heavenly. “Quite the contrary.” He’s not an angel? But he saved her twice. Contrary? Then a demon? 

“Why me?” She whispered just as a realization came. “Are you here to kill me and bring me to hell?” 

The man’s feet landed on the balcony of her house, large wings disappearing almost immediately. He gently put her down, making sure that she could stand although her ankle was sprained very badly. “Because from now on, you’re mine.” Her eyes widened in surprise. She heard the same words earlier but it clearly didn’t mean anything earlier. 

Right? 

“I’ll save you, no matter if I live or die, Y/N.” 

IV. BAD EUPHORIA

This shouldn’t happen. 

Maybe Yuta had really become crazy. He should have learned from his past mistakes. This would only bring him back to the same place where he was before. Maybe it was better that he rot in person instead of this creeping feeling inside him. 

“Your little sunglasses are so cute, Yu.” Y/N complimented, making the little devil smile coolly. The twins should know that showing your demon self to a human is illegal. But what does he know? He even flew her in the air. Besides, they are demons. Evil creatures. They're meant to break the rules. “These little pigtails are so adorable, Uta.” She squealed, making the younger girl giggle. 

She should be scared of them. They could hurt her now that she knows a lot. Why did Yuta have to promise those things to her? He should have killed her the first time instead of keeping her even if she tasted so sweet. Even if she smelled so good. How pathetic of him.  

“So these are your demon forms?” The twins nodded, flying around her with their little wings. “And you have specific powers?” 

Yu nodded, “I can erase memories.” 

“And I can heal anything.” Uta continued, sounding proud of herself. The girl glanced at the healed wound on her arm and then her ankle. “It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” 

The girl had to scrunch her nose, nodding at the younger girl. Yuta squinted his eyes at that. What was that? Is she showing affection to the demons? How weird. And why are the twins liking her attention so much? He shouldn’t have left them with her. “And that man is your…” She squinted her eyes before continuing, “Father?” 

Yuta glared at the younger boy who chuckled nervously. He shouldn’t have taken the twins in his care. But what could he do if this was the only thing he could do seeing two wide-eyed kids entering the demon world? Besides, Yu and Uta had been great entertainment and companions to him when he was still chained back there. Now that they have the taste of the human world, he probably cannot bring those two back to hell. Even he, an older demon, doesn’t want to return to that place. 

“Mister,” she called, which made Yuta look at Y/N. “Are you planning to kick me out of your house?” 

“And where would you go?” The girl shrugged, “Didn’t I tell you that I should always see you? The demons had shown a liking to your scent.” Y/N rolled her eyes which annoyed Yuta. He did explain earlier that the smell of her blood had awakened some demons from hell and now, they’re roaming the human world just to look for her. If she wanted to stay alive, he should keep a close eye on her. It was a simple concept yet she had a hard time grasping that fact. How stupid. Humans are so stupid. 

“And master needs you to regain his power,” Uta claimed in a high-pitched voice that made Yuta surprised. Why would she say that? Yu stopped his sister and seeing the glare Yuta had given them, the two little devils disappeared. This is getting really annoying.

“You need me to regain your power?” Yuta stood up from his chair and then shook his head, walking to the fridge and taking a bottle of water. “Do you want me to do something to help you regain your power?” He had to grasp the bottle rather tightly. 

Is she seriously asking that question?     

Maybe Yu’s powers had evolved so much that she doesn’t remember what they did in the forest. Yuta smiled, he knew that kid would do wonders in the future. “Mister,” she called once again that made him hiss, “Should I do…” When he turned around to face her, she was standing behind him. Her scent is stronger now that she’s closer. Yuta could easily hold her by the waist and kiss her. “...something for you?” She asked in a soft voice, eyes staring at his lips. 

This is fucking dangerous. He might just hurt her again and the twins aren’t here to erase her memory or heal her. Yuta leaned in, “I’m not interested in the well-behaved you, baby.” The girl puffed her cheeks, squinting her eyes at him. 

“I’m not flirting with you, stupid.” Yuta chuckled as she stomped off inside the room, closing the door with a loud thud. 

How cute. 

Even if he was lying on the couch and she was sleeping in the room, with the door locked shut, Yuta could smell the scent of her arousal. It was way stronger than earlier that bothered him. If this continues on, another demon could smell her and this will be trouble once again. This was his fault. She did awaken something inside him but he didn't need to awaken her sexual desires. 

He should have stopped that night in the forest. 

Like the other nights, he approached her in her own wet dream. A mirage that only he can create. She was squirming in bed, panting hard while sweating. Her shirt was pushed up to reveal her breasts. A wet spot was visible on the material of her shorts. 

Yuta clenched his fist tight. He cannot do this to her once again. And if this continues, he might just make the same mistake he made. He shook his head, he wouldn’t do it to her. 

“Please,” she whispered, heavy breaths coming out of her agape lips. But he’s a demon and there are only some temptations that he can resist. Obviously one of them isn't her. Even if her eyes were closed, tears were streaming down her face. She might be in pain. And who is he to deny her the cure she needed? “Please, fuck me.” 

He held her cheek. “Ssh, my angel.” He mumbled as if she could hear him. “I’ll make you feel real good, hmm?” Yuta didn’t waste time to pull down her shorts, revealing her sopping cunt. She smelled so divine, so erotic. He could feel his body getting energized just from smelling her. How perverted can he actually get? Truly, a lust demon. 

He leaned down to give a quick kiss on her pubic bone, a moan escaping her lips. All his inhibitions are gone. The self-control he had been keeping to himself was gone when his lips came in contact with her clit. Her addicting taste in his lips only made him want her more. He slipped his tongue inside her core, the taste of her arousal making him dizzy in lust. Her body kept on moving so Yuta had to hold both her legs, parting them, to have easier access. 

Y/N’s moans filled the room, echoing through the walls, which only heightened his want to pleasure this girl. By now, Yuta knows her pleasure spots. The exact spot in her core that makes her let go. With the tip of his tongue, he started hitting that spot earning muffled cries from her. She’s close, he could feel it. Yuta’s tongue kept on abusing her pussy, making sure that he could explore every inch of her. 

And it was the most rewarding feeling when she released everything. Yuta made sure to lap everything that she could release, not missing a single drop of her sweetness. 

The guy sat on the foot of the bed, just watching her calm sleeping face. She’s very beautiful. And Yuta knew that he couldn’t fall with these beautiful things. That would be his literal downfall for sure. Yet he had felt like he had become a possessive man, not wanting to share her with anyone. He should start putting scent blockers on her so a demon wouldn’t chase after her. 

But putting scent blockers on her meant being a prisoner in her chains. A mistake he had made a long time ago and regretted big time. 

He shouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

“They said bittersweet is life but it’s not that sweet, honestly it’s bitter.,” Yuta claimed, holding his cup of coffee. “Like this coffee.” 

The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Why can’t you just ask for cream and sugar like a normal person?” She asked, putting down the jar of cream and sugar above the table with a loud sound. 

“Because master is not a normal person,” Yu claimed, drinking his chocolate milkshake. 

Uta was munching on her waffles when she said in a mouth filled with food, ��Shouldn’t we call him dad now?” The girl giggled, wiping the younger girl’s mouth. To avoid some questions, Y/N forced him to introduce himself as Yu and Uta’s dad. Surprisingly, her co-workers believed that lie. Yuta shook his head, humans truly are gullible. “Can I order some more waffles?” 

Y/N smiled. “Of course, baby girl.” She claimed while rubbing the younger girl’s cheek. “Do you want anything else, Yu?” She asked softly as the younger boy asked for the same meal as his sister. “And you?” she faced Yuta with an uninterested look that annoyed him. Where is her happy caring tone? Why is she so cold when facing him?   

“Nothing else.” She rolled her eyes before leaving to the counter where her co-workers were looking at her and then at him with wide smiles on their faces. Yuta didn’t know what they were talking about but she made a disgusted face while shaking her head after looking at him. 

How adorable. 

Maybe it was her time of the month. But Yuta shrugged it off, she wasn’t bleeding when he ate her out last night. Did it start today perhaps? But she clearly showed her distaste at him. Is that normal? A normal female reaction, perhaps?

Even at the diner, she kept on rolling her eyes at him while showing great gentleness to the two kids. Once again, she introduced him to her co-workers as the twins’ dad and he even earned an invite to a child’s birthday party. Yu and Uta both had a blast with their non-stop eating, making the older demon amused. They surely are gluttonous demons. 

Y/N was just pacing around doing her job, making Yuta watch her every move. She would smile at every customer, making sure to give them her utmost service. Now he understood it when Yu reported that she’s hardworking. A male co-worker called for her and she obediently walked to where he was. He showed her a spoon with something white and the girl immediately parted her lips to taste what was on the spoon. She nodded, making the man smile warmly at her. He swiped a thumb on her bottom lip before licking the cream on his finger which made her giggle. 

What the hell was that? Is she flirting with that co-worker? A boyfriend? But the twins never mentioned a male companion in their reports. Who the hell was that? 

The girl was busy serving on the tables when a young kid wearing roller skates started zooming in the middle of the diner. He zoomed past Y/N who almost fell if not for Yuta holding her waist and pulling her to sit on his lap. “Are you alright?” He realized how near she was now that she was seated on his lap and it didn’t help that he was feeling something cold seeping on his shirt. 

“Oh shit,” she cursed, standing up immediately and then wiping the dark liquid with a towel. She stopped when she felt his abdomen before staring at his face with a lot of surprise in her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat before heading south to wipe his leg. Slowly, Yuta could start smelling her sweet scent. She’s getting aroused. And maybe it was because she was too close that his senses were so stimulated, he wanted to reach out to her and fuck her mercilessly in this diner. 

Her co-worker muttered an 'Oh My God' at the mess that happened as Y/N apologized. She was instructed to bring Yuta to the staff room since there was an extra change of clothes that he could wear, even volunteering to look after the twins as they finished their meal. She should have declined. Doesn’t she know that he and her inside a confined space is dangerous? And with his evil dirty thoughts and her emanating sweet scent, he could just lose himself. 

Yuta was right. The staff room was located at a somehow secluded part of the diner and too small to stop his raging dirty thoughts. He quickly removed the shirt that was getting slowly drenched with the cola as the girl reached for the extra clothes on the upper cabinet. When she turned around, her eyes just widened while staring straight at his naked torso. The scent was now heightened along with her biting her bottom lip. With a heavy breath, she handed the shirt and then turned around, reaching down to look for drawers on the bottom layer. The simple action created a small contact between their bodies, making Yuta hiss. 

“Y/N, you could just ask.” The girl turned to him in confusion. Yuta stepped forward and she stepped back, “I can smell your arousal.” 

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise which made Yuta smirk. She’s like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m not…” 

Yuta moved another step forward that their bodies were almost touching. He grabbed her wrist, placing her hand on his torso. Her cold fingers trailed to his chest down to his abdomen. “You’re probably lacking excitement, right?” Her fingers moved to the waistband of his jeans then back to his abdomen. “Do you already know the ending, Y/N?” Yuta whispered in her ear. A heavy breath as he takes in her lovely aroused scent. He guided her hand to the front of his jeans, “A little teaser.”     

The girl pulled him closer, placing her lips on his. It was an invigorating feeling, a sign that he should stop himself and just let go. “Mister…” she called in her erotic voice. 

“Yuta,” he immediately corrected. “Call me Yuta.” 

“Yuta.” The name came off as a whimper, a sexy moan that he wanted to repeat. “Yuta, please.”  

He didn’t care if the name wasn’t his anymore, as long as it kept coming out of her lips. Yuta turned her around, pulling her waist closer to him as she hiked her skirt up. “Yes, baby. I only want my name coming out of your lips.” 

“Yuta.” Fuck. This is bad. But why is he so elated? How could something this fucking good be considered bad? “Yuta,” Y/N called once again which made Yuta hiss. 

This will surely be his downfall. 

V. PRISONER

Y/N felt as if she had done something morally and ethically wrong. 

Maybe she’s a criminal who deserves to be in jail. A prisoner. 

She couldn’t even look at her co-workers the moment she left the staff room. She can’t even look at both Yu and Uta even if she knew that Yuta isn’t their father. Even looking at Yuta’s eyes was very difficult for her and it’s not like his cock didn’t keep ramming on her earlier. 

His cold hand was grabbing her breast, pinching her nipples using his fingers. The other hand kept rubbing her clit as he kept thrusting into her from behind. His breathing was warm against her ear as she could hear him panting, gently moaning in his low voice. It was so hot. 

All the horny nights were easily forgotten because of this quick sexual session. And with what she considers a stranger whom she just found out his name? How is she suddenly so reckless and rebellious? 

Y/N started fixing her skirt but Yuta wrapped his arms around her from behind, fixing the buttons of her blouse. “Skip your gasoline gig,” he whispered, which made her confused. What? “I’m going to ask the twins to leave so we can continue this at home. I’ll wait for you.” 

What the hell? 

How could Y/N find a horny guy who gives amazing pleasure? As she was walking home, she started realizing why. He did claim that he’s a lust demon, an incubus. That means it was his sin, right? So he must be really a horny demon. But what else can he do during sex? Does he have an intense stamina that could kill her? Can he shapeshift? Maybe grow a tentacles or grow his cock bigger? She lightly giggled at the thought. Why is she getting excited all of a sudden? This is dangerous. She’s getting very wet at the thought. 

Before she could put the key to the doorknob, the door opened. She expected Yu to greet her and Uta, being the cooler among the twins, would just be munching something while staring at the television. But to her surprise, Yuta opened the door without any clothes on. Immediately, she came in the door and closed it behind her. “Are you crazy?” She asked, “What if the neighbors see you?” 

“I could smell you coming.” 

He pulled the girl closer, letting her fingers trail on his broad shoulder. “And the kids?” 

Yuta placed a wet kiss on her neck, “I sent them far away to do something.” The girl giggled which was replaced by a small squeal when the man scooped her up in his arms. “I hope you’re ready for me.” Y/N grinned. She’s more than ready for him. 

He took his time kissing her lips, tongue slipping past her lips and into her mouth. Y/N could only moan at that. His tongue game was so amazing that she could easily imagine herself in an intense orgasm if he eats her out. His fingers slowly undo the button of her blouse, kissing the skin getting exposed. Losing her patience, she discarded her bra while he left supple kiss marks on her abdomen. 

Yuta’s lips were quickly on her exposed breast, kissing the underside before sucking the nipple. His tongue played with the little nub as his fingers rubbed the other. Thread of curses and moans kept coming out of her lips. “Oh My God, Yuta.” She could feel him chuckling at that. 

Y/N had to grab his hair, raising his head to look at her. “Please, put it inside me.” He gave her a smile. A warm smile that made her swoon. God, he is so attractive. She might just orgasm if she keeps staring at him. 

Yuta pushed up her skirt and pulled down her underwear. Licking his lips at the sight of her wetness. He held his cock, lightly rubbing the tip on her pussy lips that made Y/N raise her hip. The guy’s chuckle can be heard before he pushes himself into her. The girl screamed, fingers digging into Yuta’s back at how big he was. Fuck, he’s filling her up. And when Yuta placed a pillow under her hips, she could see the outline of his cock on her abdomen. 

It was a surreal feeling. It felt foreign yet familiar at the same time. Maybe Y/N is getting crazy. Too cock crazy. She had never had a cock this good. And she knew it would be hard to find another, specifically a human, who would fuck her up this good. His thrusts were hard, deep, and rhythmic at a pace that made her lose her mind. She can even feel his balls hitting her ass cheeks. Yuta is too good at this. It’s making her crazy.

She had never cummed that much in her life. Even her vivid dreams weren’t as good as the real thing. The sheets were wet because of her sweat and juice but she refused to move, her body feeling so sore from the intense sex she just received. 

That was really amazing. He’s undoubtedly a lust demon. 

But how real are demons? Isn’t that just something that the religious people made up to distinguish good from evil? And how evil could they be? 

“Yuta,” she called while lying next to him in bed. Y/N knew that she shouldn’t be doing this pillow talk with him but they’re not even cuddling. It’s just pure lust between them, no strings attached. Yet she needed some answers. The man hummed, facing to look at her. She rolled on her stomach, “You said I’ll be in danger if I disappear from your sight because the demons will come for me, right?” The man nonchalantly nodded. “Is there any way to stop that?” 

She could feel Yuta stiffen at that question. Did he not expect that? But that isn’t the normal conversation one has after intense sex. From his reaction, she gathered that there must be something that could stop this. “What is it?” she asked, gently rising from the bed to fully look at him. “Can I do something?” 

“A contract.” She raised an eyebrow at that. What contract? “A binding contract between a demon and human.” Y/N sat up to signal that she was interested which made Yuta hiss in annoyance. “You should understand that the contract would chain us to each other. So no, Y/N.” 

“What?” The girl asked in confusion. “But it was you who brought the contract up and it doesn’t seem that hard.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at his lack of response. “Besides, I’m not that possessive. Even if we’re chained to each other, I’ll still let you wander alone.” Yuta visibly stiffened at those words that confused her. Maybe it was a touchy subject for him. She should probably stop. 

“I don’t trust your words,” Yuta whispered. 

Y/N huffed at that. “I’m not a perfect person but I’m also not an evil person. Why don’t you believe me?” She revolted. “Why don’t you want to do the binding contract with me? Tell me what is wrong with me?” 

Yuta had to roll over to face her body, parting her legs that confused her. “Nothing, Y/N,” he claimed before placing a soft kiss on her pussy lips. “But I won’t do it with you.” 

The girl had to cover her mouth to prevent the scream coming out of her lips when he pushed a tongue between her moist pussy folds. The neighbors had already obviously heard her voice, they didn't need to know that they weren’t done with the sexual action yet. “Yuta,” she moaned. “Have you ever been in a contract with someone before?” He only answered with a flick of the tongue in her most sensitive spot. 

“You’re a poison, Yuta. I shouldn’t have trusted you.” The female voice shouted, making the demon’s heart bleed. “For my last wish, let me go."

"Let me leave this world.” 

He shouldn’t have trusted her words. He shouldn’t have believed that she wasn’t an evil person. What has she done to her? 

A binding contract has its pros and cons. True, he can save the person he cares for. But a loose chain is still a chain. And chains tend to hurt in the long run. A terribly twisted love’s prison. 

“Twins?” Yuta called, towering above two little cages to look for both Yu and Uta. It confused him that they weren't here. This is the only place they could go. A safe place for his little devils. Not too hot and not too cold for their comfort.

He had always thought that hell was always so burning hot, tormenting people who came here. Evil people. He had always stayed here all his life so he wouldn’t know the difference. 

The only coldness in this scorching world was the cage he was locked in for years. The cuffs were stone cold against his skin, exhausting all his energy. As he brushed his fingers on the steel bars, he smiled to himself. 

He remembered tiring himself the first few months. “I’m not a criminal!” he shouted. “Set me free!” A statement he knew wasn’t true. He is a criminal and he deserves to be in this prison, bound with chains. He is a dangerous man. 

And he might be doing it again. 

He started walking some more, spotting the two winged little devils with someone very familiar. He wished he would never bump into him again. Hell is a huge place for the two of them to see each other. But as he called for the twins’ attention, he turned to him as well. Uta called him ‘Dad’ while running to grab his arm in fright. It’s been years and the twins have grown up yet they exhibit the same terrifying expression when faced by him. 

“Dad?” He repeated in his booming voice, looking in confusion at the man who only raised an eyebrow. Yu muttered an apology, pulling his sister behind Yuta. “You’re playing house in the human world? You should have known better.” 

Yuta had to turn around, “Let’s go, kids.” He mumbled before stopping at what the old man said, 

“Don’t kill another human again, Yuta.” 

VI. GOODBYE

“Let me go!” Yuta kept shouting which made Y/N look at him in surprise. His eyes were closed shut, sweat beads forming on his eyebrows. Was he dreaming? “Let me go!” 

The girl had to shake him aggressively to wake him up from his deep sleep. “Yuta, are you alright?” She asked once assured that he had regained consciousness. Y/N started wiping his forehead with the blanket to dry off his sweat. “You’re having a bad dream.” 

But Y/N was startled when he pulled her closer, hugging her body. His breathing was harsh against her skin, tightly holding onto her with shaking fingers. He might be scared. But what was the dream about? Why does he keep shouting to let him go? The girl threaded her fingers on his hair, hushing him up. Her other hand rubbed his back in a calming manner. 

She was relieved that he got calmer over the simple action. 

But what is wrong with him? 

Even in the morning, he was just quietly staring at the two kids who were huddled on the table while watching a caterpillar they got outside. “It looks ugly,” Uta claimed, which made the older girl laugh, handing them the small container filled with twigs and leaves where they could keep the caterpillar. “It looks like Yu’s horns.” 

The older boy glared at his sister. “But when a caterpillar grows up, it will be a very pretty butterfly.” The older girl explained, picking up the caterpillar and placing it inside the container. 

“Will it grow wings?” Y/N nodded at the younger girl. “Like our wings?” 

Yu shook his head, “Different wings. Prettier than yours.” Uta pouted with a huff, making the older laugh at her cuteness. Her eyes gazed at Yuta who was just looking at them with a stoic face. Was he not amused at how cute Yu and Uta are? Or was it because of his dream earlier? Should she ask about it? 

Since it was her day off and she needed to buy a gift for her co-worker’s daughter, she asked the three to come with her to the mall. She had gotten her pay the day before and could buy something for the three of them. Maybe a new sunglass for Yu, a pretty ribbon for Uta, and a tank top for Yuta. He had been wearing sleeved shirts lately and she was annoyed, she loved seeing his exposed arms around the house. Those thick arms that she loved to claw on. Y/N stared at his arms before gazing at his face. To her surprise, Yuta had been looking straight at her. 

Oh shit. The arousal. He could smell her. 

In the end, Y/N cannot force Yuta to come out and the kids promise the older man that they’ll behave in the mall. She was giggling to himself at how he looked like a dad scolding his kids. Yu and Uta are so hyperactive outside that she’s already tired the moment they step foot inside the mall. The two kept on buying different kinds of stuff: shirts, shoes, and dresses. Luckily, Yuta had given her a card to spend on the kids. 

Where did he get all the money? But then Yu was the one who explained that Yuta was the son of a higher demon, like an heir in a human world. So when the three decided to stay in the human world, his assets in hell became assets in the human world. “So Yuta is rich?” She innocently asked. 

“Super rich,” Uta claimed, biting on her fried chicken. 

Y/N was astounded at that fact. He’s handsome and he’s rich? She cannot deny that he’s also hot and so great in bed. “Is he still single?” The question came out before she could even process it in her mind. That was so wrong to ask. But she’s so curious. Yu gave her a knowing smile but she shook her head, wanting to tell him that what he was thinking was wrong. But that would be so defensive of her. 

“The first time we met Master Yuta, he was heartbroken from his first love.” Uta shared. Y/N’s ears perked up at that. First love? “He was caged by his father for killing that person.” She gasped in surprise. Maybe that’s why he was saying those words in his dream. But Yuta killed his first love? 

Yu hissed at his sister for talking too much. “But master claims that it wasn’t his doing.” He shared calmly, “Killing a human is a grave sin in hell and the other demons believe that Master is the only one who could do it.” 

That was heartbreaking. But Y/N doesn’t know Yuta enough to judge him. She saw him kill twice but those were all demons and he promised that he’d save her, even if he lived or died. Surely, Yuta cannot kill a human. Especially a person he once loved. “Yu, can you erase his memory of his first love?” The younger boy shook his head, claiming that he could not erase a demon’s memory. 

Y/N nodded. If Yu or Uta cannot, then she should help him. But how could she do that? How could she stop the nightmares when he obviously can’t move on from his life in hell? How could one measly human help a somewhat higher demon? “Do you think I could do something to help him?” 

Uta nodded but Yu glared at her. At her prodding, the younger girl answered. “Help him regain his powers so he can turn back time. That was his goal.” 

“Regain his powers?” They did mention it before. “How can I help regain his powers?” The two kids shrugged, busy eating their meal. Should she ask Yuta instead? Is it a demon thing? “Then, how do the two of you regain your powers?” 

“Eating,” they muttered in unison which made her smile. Obviously. Yuta calls them gluttonous demons so maybe that’s why. Should she cook for Yuta to regain his power? 

Y/N had to cover her mouth at the sudden realization. Yuta is a lust demon. He cannot regain power just by a simple meal. He needed sex.

She shook her head to divert her attention as Uta looked at her in worry. “Then how did the two of you end up in the demon world?” 

The girl dropped her fork and she wanted to quickly apologize for asking something so insensitive. “We both light our house on fire, killing us and our family.” That’s so familiar and tragic. “Master explained that we killed ourselves, that's why we’re in hell, a grave sin like his.” Yu continued. 

Y/N held the top of Uta’s head. “I think the two of you are great kids.” She claimed then smiled at the younger girl. “If ever I get married and have kids, I hope they’re as lovely and clever as the two of you.” She continued, even staring at Yu who looked shy at what she was saying. “I bet your parents are very proud of the two of you.” 

“Your parents are also proud of you, unnie,” Uta claimed, which confused her. “We met them in the demon world.” 

“We’re home!” Uta shouted, bursting to the door and then showing off her pink glittery bow. Yu helped put down the paper bags on the couch as Y/N went straight to the kitchen while chuckling at the younger girl’s cute antics. Yu showed his new sunglasses making Yuta hiss. They spend all his money on these useless things? They’re such kids. 

Yuta carefully glanced at the different paper bags full of fabric and accessories. “Did you say thank you to Y/N?” The two kids nodded while taking out toys from one paper bag. He shook his head, such kids. The guy had to bite his bottom lip, smelling a very familiar scent coming from the kitchen. What is she doing? 

Y/N was standing by the stove as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “Smells good.” 

“I’m heating the pasta we bought…” 

“I meant you,” His hand that was resting on her stomach trailed to her breast, grabbing one boob from the material of her blouse. “Why are you so aroused? I can smell you.” He pulled her closer, kissing the side of her neck.

Small giggles came out of her lips, “I’m not the only aroused one.” She teased before rubbing her ass on his bulge. Yuta laughed at that action. Y/N turned around to face him after turning off the stove. “Do you want to try something new, Yuta?”

Something new? His eyebrow raised at that. The girl started tying her tail to a ponytail, licking her lips in the process. Yuta lightly chuckled when she started kneeling on the floor. A blowjob? Did someone replace Y/N in the store? What is happening to her? Her fingers were undoing the zipper of his pants when he claimed, “Right now? With the kids outside?” 

The girl grinned. “Look at you being a dad,” she teased before gazing at him with lust-hooded eyes. “Daddy.” 

“Yu! Uta!” Yuta shouted. “Could the two of you deliver a message?” 

If Yuta thought hell was full of chaos, the demons should attend a kid’s birthday party. Kids were all running, high-pitched squeals and laugh echoed throughout the whole venue. It's utterly chaos.

All the moms were staring at him, whispering things to other moms. He doesn’t know what it was but he had been called a lot of distasteful names before so their words wouldn’t have to bother him. But when they started talking to Y/N, laughing with her while pointing at him, Yuta felt curious. It was like they were watching his every move and for them to not suspect something, he was attentive to the twins. They kept on running around, playing with the human kids as if they weren’t demons. They looked so fascinated at the clown’s magic tricks and when the bubble show came, they kept squealing in delight. 

Yuta had to smile at that. At least they had the experience of being kids in the human world. “He’s so attractive,” he overheard one of the moms say to her husband. He remembered her as one of Y/N’s co-workers in the diner. Was she talking about him? “He takes care of his kids so well.” Wait, was he doing too much? “No wonder Y/N looks so happy lately.” 

His gaze fell on the girl seated on the floor and taking pictures of the twins inside the huge bubble. “They already look like a small family.” Yuta smiled. That wasn’t a bad thought. 

After the bubble show, came desserts. Yu was careful about eating too much but Uta kept on coming the second time to the cake table, even taking a huge piece. “You should stop, Uta.” Yuta reprimanded, making the young girl pout. “Your dress will pop off if you eat another bite.” Y/N had to take the discarded plate filled with cake and hand it to the younger girl who went running to her brother. “Y/N!” 

“You cannot stop a girl from eating, Yuta.” She claimed, “Besides, Uta is still cute even if she eats too much.” 

“She’s my daughter.” A gasp can be heard nearby from a mom overhearing their conversation. 

The girl rolled her eyes at that. “I know. But that is my baby girl,” Yuta smirked. That’s her revolt? “You cannot tell my baby what she can’t or can eat.” She claimed before taking another slice of cake, “Even Yu.” She claimed before feeding him a piece of cake and walking away.

Yuta could only laugh in disbelief, wiping his lips to remove the icing. Are they playing bad cop, good cop now? Yeah, he’ll be the bad parent. He’s a demon, for crying out loud. That’s his nature. And obviously, that is exactly the reason why Yu and Uta like her so much. She's always the good parent. Spoiling them with everything.

The two of them as parents? Yuta timidly smiled at the thought before shaking his head. What the heck is this light, mushy feeling creeping into his body? “She makes you weak?” The mom eavesdropping on them asked that confused Yuta. “You shouldn’t let go of a girl that loves your children like that.” She had a knowing smile on her face as she stared at Y/N talking to the two kids while eating cake. “You should never let Y/N go.”  

Yuta shouldn’t. Even if he had encountered these things before, he knew Y/N had shown him a very different feeling. He had always thought hell was the hottest place in existence but why does he feel warmer in her arms? And these mushy feelings? Why would his heart beat so much whenever he sees Y/N smile? She makes him weak and strong at the same time. It’s crazy. 

Yuta might be crazy. 

Has he finally moved on? Is this not a mistake if he pursued it further? Should he ask her once again to have a binding contract with her? Because right now, he’s sure that he would be willing and more than happy to be chained to her if it meant staying with her. 

“Oh, the father of the birthday girl is here!” The clown claimed making all the kids look at the man coming into the party venue carrying a huge dollhouse. 

The sound of broken plates echoed throughout the place but Yuta’s gaze didn’t leave the man who was now looking at him, as well as all the guests. Y/N was quick to stand up, looking at him with worry but the other man was quicker on his feet to land a punch on Yuta’s face. “You!” he shouted, face filled with rage. “I’m going to kill you, motherfucker!” 

Yuta didn’t make a move and let the man take blows on his face. Anything to ease his anger. He could feel some people stopping the man repeatedly punching him and kids crying at how scary the scene was. Some mothers also gasped calling for Y/N’s name and from his bleeding eye, Yuta saw Y/N seated on top of the broken plates he had created. 

Once again, Yuta reminded himself that this will be a huge mistake. He really shouldn’t pursue this much longer. 

Yuta kept on hissing as Y/N put medicine on the cuts on his face. Since Uta cannot heal him, he let the older girl tend to his wounds. He cannot go to the hospital. He doesn’t really deserve it. The man should have killed him and he would easily let him. 

An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A life for a life. 

He lightly glanced at Y/N’s palm, “Aren’t you hurt as well?” 

She lightly glanced at the faint white lines across her palm. “Uta did her best to heal me and Yu had to erase everyone’s memory.” She shared in a soft voice, “They said they’ll go back to hell to rest for a while.” Yuta nodded. He could also do that. “Was he related to your first love?” 

Yuta had to look her straight in the eye. How did she know that? “The twins told you?” 

“I asked them. So please don’t be mad at them.” He hissed, closing his eyes at that. “Did you really kill her?” The way she said those words was so calculated, so quiet. As if she was scared. Of him? Of the fact that he killed someone? He wasn’t entirely sure. 

“I did.” The shift in her eyes broke Yuta. “That was her final wish, to leave the world.” 

She stared at him in confusion. How much did the twins tell her? “Final wish?” 

“From the binding contract,” he started. “She was my human and I’m bound to her.” Even saying those words felt like thorns digging into Yuta’s heart. “I became too obsessed with her, too possessive, that she grew mad.” 

“Her last wish was to end her life and I have to make it happen as her demon.”

Y/N’s eyes softened at that. Now that she heard it straight from Yuta, she realized that it wasn't all that bad. He had to do what he promised to do. Is this the reason why he was locked in hell? The grave sin he committed to the demon world? 

He’s just a man who fell in love. That’s the risk someone has to take whenever they fall in love.  Ain’t no joy, ain’t no torment. 

His dark brown eyes bore through hers, making her hitch a breath. “And I’m almost making the same mistake the second time.” 

Her eyes widened at those words. She was thinking the same thing as he was thinking right? “Then Yuta, let’s do the binding contract…”

“No, Y/N.” 

It was a strong no. But Y/N isn’t even disheartened. She could always ask him again and maybe he could crack and say yes. There’s always a flaw in every contract and she just needed to look for it so she could help Yuta be free from the memory of his first love. So he wouldn’t have a chance to make the same mistake to her. 

She stretched her arms seeing the two kids snoring on both sides of the bed. When she glanced at the far end, Yuta was nowhere in sight. The house sounds so quiet. Was he away? Maybe he came back to their world. It had been an exhausting feat for him, she completely understood why he would go out. Maybe she should cook for the kids and regain their powers. Maybe she should think of horny thoughts so Yuta could come back quickly. 

As she stepped outside the room, she saw a piece of paper on top of the table. That’s odd. Yuta doesn’t leave notes when he’s going out. But as she read the letters scribbled on the paper, her tears fell from her eyes. She had to read the same sentences repeatedly for it to make sense. 

I didn’t know I would feel this way again. 

It’s because I love you that I say this, 

Eternally, goodbye. 

Yuta didn’t just go out. He already left. 

VII. BUTTERFLY

It must be a dream. 

A crazy dream. 

She didn’t even know what reality was from a dream. As she stared at the cocoon inside the container, she wanted to believe that everything was real - that she met two adorable kids, Yu and Uta. Yet whenever she would share that fact with her co-workers, they would just make her crazy by claiming that they had never seen her with two kids before. Even at the party, she was alone and nothing scandalous happened. 

Then, they might not be real. 

It must be the medicine making her crazy like this. Should she stop taking it? Should she continue taking it? But as she tried to swallow one pill, she felt something kicking in her stomach.  

It’s been days, turned into weeks that this strange phenomenon happened to her. Something kept on kicking inside her, giving sharp pain to her abdomen. Some of her female co-workers told her to get it checked but her male co-workers beg to differ. “You’ve been non-stop talking about twins and something is in your stomach,” they would narrate, “Maybe you’re pregnant, Y/N.” 

That isn’t plausible. The female doctor asked her the last time she had some sexual activity and she just didn’t know what to say. Are all those vivid horny dreams real? Was that gorgeous demon named Yuta even real? She ruled out the idea of her being pregnant and suggested eating full healthy meals and to stop stressing herself out.  

Maybe that was it. She can’t possibly be pregnant. That would be crazy. 

But then, everything in her life had gone crazy. 

Cold seasons meant Christmas was coming soon. She quit her gasoline station gig, mainly because of her co-worker's worried advice that she lives alone and being outside late at night would be very dangerous for her. On her days off, a friend from the said gasoline gig would always ask her to come out at Christmas fairs and just buy gifts and trinkets. Y/N would always pout, there was no one she could give gifts to except her co-workers who had everything they needed. 

At one stall, her eyes focused on gray sunglasses with sparkling stones on the frame. Uta would really love that. On another stall selling ponytails, she saw a pastel pink that would look really good on Uta’s twin pigtails. Then there are different colored female tank tops that would look so sexy on Yuta’s body. 

A small chuckle escaped her lips. 

She’s indeed a crazy woman. 

As she was walking around, she spotted a picture of a horned creature on one of the tents. Demons should look like that, right? Not cute, not lovable, not handsome. Maybe she had really gone mad thinking that she had met demons. The tent had different colored trinkets, fairy lights illuminated the outline of the small slit of an entrance. On the side says ‘Psychic’ which made her smile. Who would even believe in these things? The woman inside spotted her and welcomed her with a smile on her face. “How are you, Y/N?” The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. How did she know her name? “Were you living alright? Do you honestly think everything is just a dream?” 

Maybe it was her strategy but how did she find out her name? She only gave the girl a warm smile as she sat down in front of her, “I should be careful with my words or they would come after me.” She started that confused her. What? The psychic, a middle-aged woman, started telling her about her life, That she was adopted after her birth mother died while giving birth to her. That she lived a mostly lavish life but gambling ended everything. Y/N’s mind was mind-blown. How does she know so much? “Your parents are great people, my dear child.” 

“My parents?” 

“I know you blame them for their death but it was inevitable. It doesn’t mean that they didn’t love you. They said goodbye because they love you so much.” The older woman smiled, “Even that man.” 

It’s because I love you that I say this, eternally, goodbye. 

The wonder was laced with confusion at her words. How did she know so much about her life? Is she being her crazy self again? “Be careful of wings, dear Y/N.” Wings? “This will bring you to those looking after you.”

Instead of clarity, she only got confusion. Why did she even enter that tent? Who the hell would even believe a so-called psychic who kept on spouting nonsense? Only a crazy person would. 

And she’s a crazy person. 

Some of her co-workers invited her for their family Christmas party but Y/N remained at home, watching television and eating leftover pizza. She kept on watching the little cocoon inside the container but it was a boring activity. Nothing much is happening. 

Before the New Year came, a male co-worker asked her to hike a mountain with his friends. The sharp stinging pain in her abdomen doesn’t hinder her from walking to the slippery trail. She’s willing to forget everything about this change of the year. To move on with her life with the image of the sunrise. 

She’ll start thinking of herself more. 

Even in the dark, her sense of sight was heightened. The males in the group started setting up the tent and she was just standing by the edge, taking in the landscape in front of her. In just a few hours, the sunrise will come and everything will be illuminated with its beauty. 

She’ll finally forget about them: Yu, Uta, and especially Yuta. 

A small fluttering wing came into her sight. The little butterfly flew in front of her as if asking for her attention. Its wings had a shade of gray and pink, a lovely combination. Will that little cocoon in her home reveal a butterfly this pretty? She tried to reach for the small creature, eager to feel it on her fingertips. But she took a wrong step and felt a cold breeze. 

She could only hear the collective sounds of her name being called and saw the butterfly fluttering its wings to land on her nose. She finally felt its wings. 

Be careful of wings, dear Y/N. Wings? Butterflies have wings. Yu and Uta have wings. Yuta has wings. This will bring you back to those looking after you. Then this will be her death, isn’t it? 

She felt the impact of the water behind her before the feeling of falling. Funny she was already falling from the cliff earlier yet she could only feel that sensation now that she was in the water. She knew how to swim and could easily make her way to the shore but she lost all will to survive. Isn’t this better? Isn’t this what she wanted all along? 

Y/N closed her eyes letting the water engulf her. 

A red light made her open her eyes. An image of two small creatures coming to her, swimming to reach her, blocking the red light. She doesn’t want to be saved now. Yet, when they reached her, she was startled that they were very familiar. Yu and Uta. 

Uta was coughing, complaining that she had never swam that deep before. Y/N had to apologize before seeing herself lying on the rocky shore. That is her lifeless body, right? Then why is she watching over herself? “Am I dead?” 

Yu shook his head. “You’re in the middle,” He explained which confused her. Middle? “You have two options: to remain living in the human world or go up.” Both Yu and Uta looked up as if stressing that option. 

“Go up?” she asked. “Up where?” 

“To heaven and be an angel,” Uta claimed. Was she allowed to say those words? 

And her? An angel? Maybe these two are the crazy ones. “But I don’t deserve to go there and be an angel.”

“Dad thinks you are one.” Uta started before Yu continued, “He even calls you his angel.” 

That sentence seemed to shut you down. You knew the dad they were talking about. But why? Really, an angel? Maybe Yuta was the crazy one. 

The older twin showed his dark pitchfork, “If you take this, your soul will return to your body and you could keep continue living in the human world.” The younger twin revealed her bright pink pitchfork, “If you take Uta’s, you’ll go to heaven and be an angel.”   

But none of the choices even enticed her. Going back to her life feels like hell and going to heaven means she won’t be seeing them again. She wanted to go where they were. Wanted to be where Yuta is. But how? 

Then it hit her. Conversations about people in the demon world came to her like a wave. The way Yu and Uta were brought to hell. How her parents were in hell based on the twins. How Yuta was caged in that place all this time. 

She had probably gone crazy.  

In a desperate attempt, she took both pitchforks that startled the young devils. Quickly, she struck her lifeless body’s chest, digging the pitchforks so deep that blood started seeping into her drenched clothes. “I wish to be with Yuta in hell.” 

Then everything went black. 

Y/N opened her eyes in a blinding red light. It feels so hot that she’s almost sweating hard. And when she glanced at where she was lying, it was covered with something red. Rose petals. A bed of roses? Everything was red. Surely this wouldn’t be heaven. The closest that it could be would be a brothel. Then is she back to her own body? But why a brothel?

The wide doors opened, cold breeze started coming in that made her shiver. What the hell even is this place?

Then it struck her. 

Hell. 

A shadow of a tall man, in a long coat with huge dark wings, was walking to her. The smell of musk filled the air. “What the hell, Y/N?” he shouted, staring at her in fury.   

She knew it before he could even speak but why is he hotter in hell? Is she really in hell right now? A smirk left her lips, “I think what you wanted to say was welcome to hell.” she claimed, staring straight at him. “And nice to see you again, Yuta.” 

The man chuckled in disbelief, sitting beside her on the bed. Her instinct was to touch his feathered wings. They’re so soft and warm. “You’re crazy. Do you know that?” 

She rolled her eyes at that. “I know. I know.” Then squinted her eyes at him, “You’ve been playing with my mind all these times. I’m not even surprised I’ll get crazy.” 

Yuta smiled timidly. “You do realize you’re now stuck in hell with me, right?” 

Y/N nodded. She realized that when he came to the door. But why? “How?” Yu and Uta just gave her two options. And killing herself doesn’t guarantee a spot in hell. How did she manage to come to this place? 

“Because of your final wish.”

Final wish? That she stayed with Yuta in hell? But Y/N only heard that with the topic of the binding contract. “We’re not in a binding…” 

“We are,” he claimed, surprising her. “I put a bead inside you so the demons wouldn’t smell you even if I’m away.” A bead? Unconsciously, she touched her abdomen. The kicking inside her. That was the bead. The stinging pain whenever she would talk to guys. That was the bead. The bead Yuta put inside her. A binding contract. His chain on her. 

The girl squinted her eyes at him. Now it all makes sense. “Possessive freak.” 

Yuta was just laughing, a hearty laugh that made her stare. She isn’t fazed by the fact that Yuta is here in front of her, she’s more astounded at the fact that he is real. That everything was real. “You’ll have to adjust well living here in hell, can you take it Y/N?” Glancing around, she could say that hell isn’t that bad. The demon world is even better than the human world. “You’re going to stay with me, can you do that Y/N?” 

“And the twins?” Yuta had to groan, claiming that she liked them so much it was annoying. “Well, I do love them more than I love you.” 

“You love me?” he raised an eyebrow. 

Y/N laughed wholeheartedly, standing up from the bed. “I went to hell for you, stupid.” Before she could move away from him, Yuta had pulled her back into his arms. His wings wrapped around her. She knew hell was hot but the way his arms and his wings wrapped around her made her feel so warm. “Besides, hell smells so good.” The guy looked surprised, inquiring her what it was. “It smells musky, a manly man smell.” Yuta had a confused look on his face which made her giggle. “You’re emitting that scent now.” She leaned in to sniff his neck as his fingers dug on her waist. “It smells so good.” 

The guy had to laugh at that. A musky scent? Right now? “Y/N,” he called which made her hum, “You haven't been here for long and I already knew what kind of a demon you are.” The girl gave him a puzzled look. “And I’m glad we’re the same kind of demon.” He licked his lips at the realization in her face. “Shall we start regaining our powers together?” 

Before she could speak, Yuta had pushed her to bed making her squeal in surprise. 

EPILOGUE: DEPTH

Hell had always been hell. 

A hot place full of agony. An evil place full of torment. 

There’s no joy without torment. But there’s no torment without joy. 

Yuta had never thought that the place he despised the most would be the place where he’d be the happiest.

All because of this human girl who chose to be with him. 

Uta was the one who said that her ‘mom’ was in the receiving room with her parents. Yu even reported that they had a long talk with Y/N apologizing and thanking them a lot. He wished he was there to at least hold her hand and stop her from crying. But Yuta promised that he wouldn’t meddle in her affairs the same way she didn’t meddle in his.

Because of her egging and warm attitude, Yuta had a chance to talk to his father. He cleared his name, explaining that it wasn’t his fault that a human died. The greater demon apologized to him for the years he had made him a prisoner. He even warmed up to the twins, even calling them his grandkids and promising the two to give them more powers as their grandfather. 

Yuta was just flabbergasted. Who’s playing house now? 

He opened the huge doors of the receiving area, Y/N staring at him in surprise as she stood by the huge windows. “My angel,” he called making her parents giggle. They excused themselves to leave and when they closed the door, Yuta wrapped his arms on the girl’s waist. “I miss you, angel.” 

“I told you not to call me that,” But Yuta only pouted. “Besides, it hasn’t been that long since we last saw each other.” 

Yuta kissed her neck, “But I’m getting powerless.” She hissed at that. “I need to regain my strength.” 

“Having a lust demon as a husband is so hard.” 

“You’re a lust demon yourself.” he revolted. “We’ll be quick,” he started carrying her to the ledge of the window, parting her legs to move closer to her. “And I can smell that you also need this.” 

Before he could lean in to kiss her, the doors opened with a loud thud. “Mommy!” Uta called. Yuta leaned his head on Y/N’s shoulder, hissing at the cockblocker. “I’m hungry.” 

“You promised to cook a meal for us. We missed your burger patties.” Yu claimed as the older girl stood up, instructing the two to wait for her in the kitchen. 

Yuta had a defeated look on his face. Should he ship those two little devils somewhere far away? Maybe he can have a moment with his wife alone. “I’ll be quick,” she claimed, kissing Yuta’s cheeks. “When I get back I’ll prepare your most favorite meal.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Me, of course.” 

His laugh echoed through the whole room making the girl giggle. “I hate to say this but you adapted in this place very well.” Y/N had to giggle, kissing his other cheek. The two kids called for her, shouting mommy which made Yuta laugh. “Hurry up and go to your kids. I’ll wait for you in our room, mommy.”  

“Be ready for me, daddy.” She claimed with a wink. 

“Sure thing, angel.” 

“Don’t call me that!” she shouted from outside making Yuta laugh. 

Maybe there’s still hope for him. 

Hell wasn’t that bad, actually. 

Hell is such a good place. Hell is such a great place. 

Especially with her.

[frostbitebakery]

WIP SUNDAY feat. a request for more Gooey-Wan

Sitrep!

That’s how Commander Cody always starts these things, isn’t it?

No, he’s more professional about it.

General Kenobi’s hand drops from his mouth into the abyss that is his cloak, smoke curling up lazily like a predator stretching with these eyes fixed on him, and Wooley takes an involuntary step back.

Sitrep, Wooley thinks an octave lower.

Commander Cody, as previously described as professional, has professionally dogpiled Grievous and is now professionally knocked out after being treated for a professional concussion. Knocked out on the General’s lap which has somehow become the new normal for the 212th. When General Kenobi sits still long enough, someone will inevitably sleep leaning against him or on a corner of the cloak. It’s just usually not Commander Cody.

Wooley pads a finger against his temple, shortcut to asking if the General is up for a mental conversation.

A moment later the General’s pleasant voice drifts into his thoughts. “Wooley, is everything alright?”

He waves the General away. “Major Boil sent me to brief you.” He avoids looking at Commander Cody peacefully sleeping with what might be the General’s hand slowly running through his hair. Instead he’s transfixed by glowing eyes taking up all visibility in the room.

“Of course. Thank you,” General Kenobi says in his head.

A second later what had still been visible of Commander Cody vanishes under a cloud of smoke.

See, the thing is that General Kenobi is kind. Kind and bending over backwards to help everyone who stumbles with a problem into his path. But he’s also been fucking frightening.

Even before the whole drama with the nightmare sludge and their surroundings turning into a horror holo wherever the General walked, he’d make the hair on their necks stand up straight for some unidentifiable reason. He hadn’t even been able to greet them before half the shiny company had crapped their freshly scrubbed armor.

It really really hadn’t been the General’s fault who back then had chosen to appear to them in his human, non-smoking form. But clones are trained to take notice of the purposefully hidden, to quickly puzzle together any hints that their life might be in danger.

After the General had revealed himself to them impressively and with a lot of psychological damage, some troopers hadn’t been able to let go of their concerns and fear. Even asking for transfers.

Wooley is quite comfy where he is, though.

He plops down on the offered chair and dims the light on his pad. “Okay, so…”

Wooley is very much afraid of General Kenobi in the sense that his hindbrain is still working through the fight or flight response to something and someone he cannot actually fight but who could rip him apart bodily and mentally without lifting a finger.

But what helped was sleeping in the cloak, dreamless and resting, or sweet dreams giving his thoughts a desperately needed pause.

What helped was fetching the cheap (“though, one could argue, the very best, my dear”) pudding to talk the General down from darkened corners of various ceilings. To offer the most mundane conversation topics to help the General focus and not lose himself in his nature or the clones’ nightmares.

Really, Wooley thinks, General Kenobi is just some guy, too, in the end. And he watches the General’s eyes snap up, following an unseen tangent before flashing black as the Galaxy’s voids. Feeding time.

[xxoxobree]

See You Again

Miles G. Morales x Black Fem Reader

WARNINGS: Angst , Sadness, Happy Ending.

A/n: Surprise Shawtayyy‼️ wrote this in like 20 mins 🫶🏽 I love it 🤣

A year has flown by since Miles' father and you, his girlfriend, passed away. Yet, the agony that gnawed at his soul showed no signs of leaving. His grief had descended into a deep depression, which soon morphed into a seething anger. His heartache only intensified as he struggled to make sense of why he had to suffer so much. Why were two of most important people in his life ripped away from him?

Sleep was now a distant memory, and he dreaded the thought of closing his eyes. Every time he did, he was transported back to a time when he was happy, a time when he shared precious moments with you, that only added to his already unbearable pain.

Miles found himself under the spell of his uncle, who had taken him under his wing, using his intelligence for nefarious purposes that he knew would have disappointed you. He was desperate to shake off the haunting memories that plagued him so he took up the mantle becoming The Prowler.

Tonight was like any other night. He slid open his window, using his metallic claws to pry it open, then climbed in, undressing before heading to bed. But as he headed towards his bed, something caught his eye - a glint of light that shone in the darkness. Curious, he approached the object and picked it up, examining it closely.

It was a necklace, one that belonged to you. The very one he had given you, the one that you had lost the day before you were taken from him. The necklace that he had promised you he would help you find the next day. Miles clutched it tight in his hand, feeling the weight of his grief pressing down on him. He slowly made his way to his bed, where he fell asleep, still holding onto the precious necklace.

As he drifted off, his breathing gradually steadied. He soon found himself in a dream, where you appeared before him once again, with your beautiful smile that quickly turned to a frown, your eyes filling with tears. He could hear your weak voice ringing in his ears.

"Miles....Miles, help...I don't want to......... " your voice trailed off the sentence unfinished forever. Miles jolted awake in his bed. His heart raced from the intensity of the nightmare that had just gripped him. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before reaching for his cellphone to check the time. It was already 8 am, and he had to get ready for school.

The rest of Miles' day went by relatively normally, until he was heading back home. His head was down, texting his mother about her picking up another shift when he heard it - his name being called. He looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

He heard it again – that voice he would recognize anywhere, the voice he longed to hear once more. And there you were, standing on the front steps of his apartment building, waving at him before running over. Miles stood frozen in shock, unable to grasp how you were there.

"Y/n," Miles said, his eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Hey, Miles! What did you do to your hair? Did your mom do it? I kinda like it," you said, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that Miles was experiencing in that moment.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you, your hair styled just the way he liked, with your signature pink hair in two puffs. Your lips glistened from your lipgloss, and Miles couldn't help but stare in awe.

Without hesitation, Miles quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, knowing that if he didn't seize this moment, it would pass him by forever. He hugged you tightly, squeezing the life out of you.

"Whoa, Miles, you're gonna crush me!" you said, giggling. It was a sound that Miles had missed so much, and it filled him with a sense of warmth a feeling he never thought he'd feel again.

You tapped him gently, and Miles reluctantly let go of the embrace, still holding onto your shoulders.

"Someone missed me," you said, smiling as your eyes zeroed in on his neck. He was wearing a chain, one that looked exactly like yours, but you had yours on your neck. You gripped your chain, feeling a sense of confusion.

"I didn't know you got a matching one," you said, pointing at the chain.

"Oh, yeah," Miles chuckled. "I thought it was cute."

"That's so cute, Miles," you said, before reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. Miles' heart skipped a beat, and he swore his head was spinning. You were here, in front of him.

He looked down at your entwined hands, still in disbelief that you were really here. "Miles, are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as your eyebrows knit together.

Miles took a deep breath before he spoke. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," he said, trying to compose himself.

"Okay, well let's go. You promised me you'd carry me to the rooftop, remember? To see your new artwork." You reminded him, eager to see the artwork he had been working on.

You were right. He had promised to show you, but now, that artwork was different. It was a painful reminder that you had died, a reminder that you shouldn't be here with him right now. But he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. Not yet.

You snapped your fingers in front of Miles' face, trying to get his attention. "Miles, hello! You're acting strange today. What is it, my love?" you asked, your eyes searching his for answers.

"It's nothing, mi amor. Come on," Miles replied, his voice unconvincing as he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs. He dreaded taking you up there, too scared that you would leave him again. His heart raced with each step, and he couldn't shake off the sense of unease.

As you two arrived at the rooftop, Miles looked back one more time at you. Your face was radiating with happiness, just happy to be with him. The sight made his heart thump harder, if it was even possible.

He pushed open the door, the cool breeze hit his face. "Here it is," he said lowly, motioning his head to the mural of you and his late father.

Your smile instantly dropped, confused by the whole thing. "R.I.P? But I'm right here," you said, looking at Miles in disbelief.

"Miles, your dad," you whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears. Miles just continued to look down, staring at his Nikes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out as you stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"You died, Y/n. Right in front of me, in my arms," Miles said quietly, watching a single tear splat on his shoes. He looked up at you, seeing tears fall down your cheeks. How he hated to see you cry.

He walked over to you, wiping away your tears, a small smile on his face. "You're too beautiful to cry," he whispered, grabbing your hands. "And I don't know if you're a figment of my imagination, if I'm dreaming again, or if I'll ever see you again."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and sadness. "So please," he said, closing the gap between your bodies, his hand on your waist. "Can I get a kiss?"

You nodded, and he tilted your chin upward, placing the most gentle, loving kiss on your lips. It was a kiss you wished could've lasted forever,