#i religiously listened to Never Let Me Down Again while drawing this

[thechristianbillboardinmontana]

they’re racing

i might color this later

[randomfoggytiger]

randomfoggytiger's Fictober Wrap Up, 2023

My first Fictober has concluded; and I decided to throw together my entries, thoughts, and acknowledgements into one post for posterity.

*****

Fictober Fics

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

Mulder and Scully reunite in the afterlife, two skeletons dancing in the rain and the mud.

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

Queequeg, alive and savage, joins Scully on her Chinga vacation.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part I

Mulder and Scully are attacked and turned into vampires by Ronnie Strickland. Scully's crisis begins when her faith seemingly rejects her.

"Time Passing in Moments"

Post Fight the Future Scully brings Halloween to Mulder, determined to give him a break while they wait and wait and wait for OPR.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part II

Mulder encourages Scully not to give up on her faith, both of them choosing to face potential death by holy fireball rather than letting her live in fearful limbo.

"There's Something Up There Mulder"

Scully realizes that Tooms is likely a distant relation of the Gender Bender Brethren (Amish hats are mentioned.)

"I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself"

Metaphorical similarities between Mulder's supposed red-green colorblindness (which he does not have) and red-hot Phoebe Green.

"How Much You're Like Ahab"-- Mulder parallels his and Scully's crime scene eating habits to those of their cannibalistic pets.

"The Truth Is Out There-- But So Are Lies"-- Scully ruminates on her partner's ease with lying; and her ability to save him from Them and himself.

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"-- Mulder realizes Scully had invited him to (a disastrous) Thanksgiving to distract himself from the anniversary of his sister's abduction. He plans to return the favor.

"Preying on the Weak and Vainglorious"-- Post Sanguinarium Mulder ruminates on bad luck and bad ends; and Scully insists he's beautiful.

"Kids Today, Huh?"-- 2023 Mulder sinks into a slump after listening to a mopey song all day. Scully reasons him out of it.

"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"-- Mulder and Scully celebrate life, the dead, and all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes of the world. (My "happy birthday in a way, Mulder" fic.)

"We Need to Get Help"-- Mulder contemplates the glaring similarities between Gender Bender and Never Again and the new differences in his partner.

"We'll Think of Something"-- The Unnatural Scully grumbles over Mulder's tendency to run off into trouble. She goes, anyway.

"End of the Road"-- Mulder's peace after Closure.

"He Had Parents Who Loved Him"-- The Mulder family and baseball.

"I Think She Was Just Trying To Get Away"-- Scully reminisces on Mulder's distance and need for distraction post Monday.

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"-- Krycek has fixed opinions about the Syndicate, Mulder, Marita, and morals.

"My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here"-- Scully and Mulder try to tackle her fears post All Souls.

"I'm Tired"-- Scully draws parallels between her Tithonus experience and Mulder's Sleepless and Demons one.

"Life’s Just a Path”-- If Melissa were alive post Fight the Future and Millennium, she'd never let her sister live it down.

"I Think He’s a Hard Kid to Love”-- Post Schizogeny Scully is sent on a case with Mulder to unofficially help Skinner's friends, one of which is a bear. (Prompts and artwork contributed by my two sisters.)

"Mulder Will Be Back”-- Jeffrey Spender sneers at Mulder's "hubris."

"Easy for You to Say”-- Post First Person Shooter Mulder is enamored with his little battle girlfriend.

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe”-- Freshly-dating Mulder and Scully's lifestyles don't quite match yet; but the effort is worth it.

"What Must a Mother Go Through”-- Post Emily Mulder reasons Scully out of her Mrs. Peacock comparisons.

"Watch Over You Wherever You Go”-- One Breath Maggie remembers the many reinterpretations of her daughter's necklace.

"Your Ideas Are Weirder than Ours”-- The Lone Gunmen are woken by two very grumpy-with-each-other special agents.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle”-- AU Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"Sooner or Later a Man’s Gotta Face His Demons”-- Post Amor Fati Scully prods Mulder on a stakeout about his lack of Samhain hunting.

*****

My Thoughts

It's been a few years since I've committed to a daily creative project, but this month flew by. It was a joy to prove myself, in a way; and an even greater privilege to take other people's prompts and turn them into stories. I'm proud of the work I put in, proud of how they turned out, and proud that they entertained anyone who read them.

I did discover a personal writing flaw: grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Which, given that I write and "edit" everything in under an hour and that my brain autocorrects and rewrites while I'm actively writing, is understandable. There are multiple reblogged versions of my finalized fics because I would spot an error and edit after publication but not before the readers hit. And that's okay! (When my Ao3 submission goes through, I'll upload each fic "in its final form", so no sweat there.)

*****

Trivia

Each fic was named with a quote from The X-Files, mostly from Mulder and Scully but also by various side characters (Phoebe Green, Krycek, and Maggie, namely.)

I tackled Scully's religion a lot this month as a way to work out my frustrations with her episodes: her belief in the series has always been chocked up as "yes man" syndrome; and I believe it did a disservice to Scully, multi-layered character that she is. I hope it did her a little more justice.

In a way, I dedicate "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully" to @enigmaticdrblockhead-- whose writing not only influenced that piece but also sticks with me to this day-- and @perpetually-weirdening-- whose interest in an immortal Scully breathed life into this idea.

In a way, I dedicate "The Truth is out There, But So Are Lies" to @suitablyaggrieved: the discussion we had (concerning Mulder's ability to lie quite well) rattled around in my head until I put it down "on paper."

In a way, I dedicate "Something Approaching a Normal Life" to Baroness Blixen, who is the master of weaving angst and fluff into her holiday fics.

In a way, I dedicate "I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself" to @settle-down-frohike because it reads more meta than fic (while also reading as fic.)

In a way, I dedicate "He Had Parents Who Loved Him" to @television-overload, whose baseball fic inspired by Field of Dreams still takes up space in my noggin.

And I think that's all my thoughts for now~.

*****

Acknowledgements and Thanks

@baronessblixen for encouraging me to write this month-- another boost on the long list of encouragements you've given me~.

@agent-troi and @welsharcher (my Fox Mulder Singleton Club members) for their generous prompts. Truly touched by both of you: your loooooooong list, agent-troi; and your vibey suggestions, welsharcher.

@wexleresque for your vampire prompt (that was a fun fic challenge), and your "looking up at the sky" prompt (which challenged me to tackle older years Mulder and Scully.)

@stephy-gold for her Nessa Barrett song prompt (which I plugged into older years Mulder and Scully)-- I learned something new and tackled a genre that is not my favorite (songfic.)

@tossingmyglossymane for the post Monday prompt, which was more challenging to write than expected (and turned out great.)

@xxsksxxx for the prompt about Scully's cross necklace-- that was an initial struggle to nail down until I tied it back to Maggie; then it flowed~.

Anon for the prompt wanting Mulder to mull over Scully's words in Gender Bender (which tied, I thought, perfectly into his confusion in Never Again.)

Thank you to my sisters for the fall prompts that lead to Bernie the Bear (and another thank you to my younger sister who let me include her doodle for that day's Fictober entry.)

And thank you to everyone who engaged, liked, reblogged, and anything else! (I always like to dip in and out of the Notes section to see how each person responded differently to each fic-- a bonus game: make guesses and see if they're correct.) There are too many to count, so I'll just include a few off the top of my head: @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @amplifyme, @pianogirlxf, @scullys-scalpel, @teenie-xf, @agertiegirl, @improlificinsarcasm, @borogirl, @tofuttim, @mysteryness, @rosedyl, @spidey-is-tired, and others~!

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[bullet-prooflove]

Can I have Dwight Hendrickson x Fem reader with the prompts "I’ll take care of you" + "I trust you"?

Hi Sunny, I only usually do one prompt per ask for future reference.

Thank you for submitting for Dwight, I'm really enjoying exploring him!

Companion piece to Odd Socks & The Day We Met

You’re struggling, Dwight can see it a mile away. It’s the reason he offered to drive you home, the reason that the two of you are still sitting in the truck parked outside your cottage, listening to the rain pitter patter on the roof.

“I haven’t lose control like that in a while.” You tell him, tilting your head away so you can watch the droplets run in rivets down the glass.

“The things he said…” Dwight trails off because he can see the tension in your shoulders, the fact you’re trying not to cry.

“They’re all true.” You say finally, swallowing hard against the emotion in your chest. “I was twelve when I electrocuted my mother, she’s never recovered from it. She’s in an assisted care facility up in Cherryfield that he pays for.”

There’s a lot of missing pieces to what you’re saying, a lot of things he doesn’t understand. He was born in this town but he didn’t grown up here, he doesn’t know the lore the way Nathan or Duke does.

 What he does know is that your Trouble is emotion based, that if you get angry, scared, upset it can manifest unpredictably. Which is why he’s going to be forking out for a new coffee machine since you’ve just completely obliterated the one back at the station because the Rev had come at you saying horrible things, cruel things.

“I don’t understand.” He says quietly. “But I want to.”

“My mother was very religious, she believed that the Troubled were cursed, afflicted.” You tell him and already he can see the road that this is taking. “What do you think happened when she discovered her daughter was born with one, when it manifested after her father left?”

“She took you to the Rev?”

You nod your head, wiping away the tears that leak down your cheeks with the back of your sleeve.

“Alex…” He says softly, his hand reaching for yours. “What did they do?”

“An exorcism.” You tell him. “They performed an exorcism and it triggered me again.”

Dwight can not describe the rage he feels in that moment, the fury, the devastation. His hand squeezes yours and you squeeze his right back.

“Your mom?” He questions.

“Yea. It was all directed at her” You utter before raising your head to meet his gaze. “She’s deteriorating, the damage I did it’s killing her and he wanted to tell me that, to remind me…”

You don’t say the words but they hang in the air between the two of you.

That I’m a killer.

“You were a child.” He tells you, his thumb chasing away the tears that line your cheeks. “One who was put in a horrific position. You didn’t do it on purpose. He has no right…”

He trails off because you don’t need his anger right now, you need his love, his compassion, his understanding. You need someone to look after you because you’re exhausted, overwrought and frankly a little dangerous.

“You trust me right?” He murmurs, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “You trust me the way that I trust you?”

You draw comfort from his touch, you always have. It grounds you, anchors you, keeps you steady in a that world doesn’t make sense.

“Let me take care of you tonight.” He whispers against your lips. “Let me be there for you, the way that you were there for me.”

Love Dwight? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

@kmc1989 @@princesschyanne @words-and-seeds @cookiedoughmeagain @magic-multicolored-miracle @aiko24k @keyweegirlie @novamariestark @angelnyx @caffeinatedwoman @@exactlyunabashedhideout @alexlynn16

[tacoma-narrows]

Decided I want to post this big project I did back in late May/early June! This was made to celebrate the 5 year anniversary of the release of Owl City's album Cinematic, on June 1st! It'll be a long post, so just be aware of that lmao

Since I started listening to Owl City again earlier this year, Cinematic has become my favorite album of his and one of my all time favs in general alongside Abandoned Pools’ Humanistic and Beat Crusaders’ EPop Making!

So with that, I wanted to draw something based around each song! With 15 songs on the album (not counting alt versions), they all translated nicely into pieces for this project! I also included a film border around each piece to tie them together, as well as due to the fact that on the album itself, each song is about a different experience or memory Adam Young has had throughout his life. He's said that he felt like writing these songs was like watching scenes from a movie, hence the name Cinematic!

As a sidenote, 4 of my characters (Shep, PBnJ, Rye and Pumpernickel) are in a cover band together called Let's Get Back!, and in addition to just celebrating Cinematic, this would also sort of be a cover album by them, hence why it says "Let's Get Back! presents" on the banner :] I'll post more abt Let's Get Back! down the line, but if you'd like to read about them now, you can check out their info hub! These pieces are almost all just Shep, despite Let’s Get Back! being a 4 member group. But since Owl City is just Adam Young, having most of these just be Shep made more sense haha

Piece by piece/song by song breakdown below the cut :]

Track 1: Fiji Water!

A song about jumping into something new and going wherever the ride takes you, since it was about Adam’s experience with signing onto a record label. The water slide vibe just felt rlly fitting here and was really fun to work with!

Track 2: The 5th of July!

Considering I was born in January rather than July like Adam was, I wanted to make this one as young Shep enjoying the fireworks, as they’ve always been something that’s fascinated me :]

Track 3: All My Friends!

My second favorite song on the album!! It’s so joyous and fun I love it so much! Of course, had to draw Shep with all his friends! This piece by far took me the longest out of all of these at more than two days lmao. It features (from left to right): Starburst, Rye, Luau, Shep, PBnJ, Pumpernickel and Wilkołak!

Track 4: House Wren!

Another joyous song about looking for a new house and having a song to sing while doing so. Just Shep listening to the house wren sing it’s happy song, simple yet effective :]

Track 5: Not All Heroes Wear Capes!

A really sweet song Adam wrote about his dad. To capture that sort of innocent admiration, I drew something Shep would have drawn for his dad at 8 years old and I think it came out super sweet <33

Track 6: Montana

I love the feeling of grandeur in this song, with lyrics about how enchanting and spectacular the landscape of Montana is! I’ve never been there myself, but I’ve seen pictures and yeah, it’s definitely amazing! So Shep is out there enjoying the amazing scenery

Track 7: Lucid Dream!

A much more abstract song to balance out the others, I wanted to capture the very, floaty starry vibe of this song for lack of a better term haha. I really like the simplicity of it! I also love the line in the song about being a light sleeper, but a heavy dreamer

Track 8: Always!

This is the one song on the album that doesn’t quite hit the mark for me, and that’s because it’s a song centered around faith. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, I’m just not a religious person. So I decided to interpret the meaning as always having a person you can love and count on to always be by your side, hence why I did it with Shep and PB, who in addition to being bandmates, are also bfs hehe :]

Track 9: Cloud Nine!

Another one of my favs, this is such a PBnShep song <3 What I went for here was a look like they’re outside stargazing and Shep is telling PB how much he cares about him while pointing out some of the amazing things in space

Track 10: Winners Never Quit!

A nice and cheerful song about never giving up and keeping on! I love the message of this one and it’s sort of retro chiptune vibe. Pretty straightforward here, just Shep with a big checkered flag for reaching your personal finish lines!

Track 11: Madeline Island!

My personal favorite out of the three travel related songs on the album (this, Montana and New York City), this one has the same feeling of grandeur that Montana does, but even more so! I also love the story of a camping trip to this island in Lake Superior, so I decided to do that! I also stylized it a bit with colored lineart for the landscape and I rlly like how that came out! Another piece that's up there as one of my favs from this project hehe

Track 12: Be Brave!

A song about the night Adam met his girlfriend at the movie theater, this is another very sweet song with a message about believing in yourself and well, being brave! Shep tends to get flustered and nervous sometimes when meeting up with PB, especially early on, so this song fits him well

Track 13: New York City!

The boys take a trip to NYC and look up at the spectacular Empire State Building! Having grown up about an hour outside of NYC my whole life, I don’t quite have the same ethereal view about it that others might, but I won’t deny it’s impressive! The Empire State Building especially is one of my all time favorite buildings :]

Track 14: Firebird!

A song about growing up, this is another one I really love. I feel like a staple of childhood is sitting with your friends outside at a wall or something similar and just talking abt life and enjoying each other’s company, so that’s what I went for. It’s another simple piece that I really enjoyed making as well as the final result!

Track 15: Cinematic!

And the grand finale!! Cinematic is my favorite song from the album and my second favorite Owl City song overall, just behind Rainbow Veins!! After all of these songs that Adam wrote from his experiences, this song feels like a magnificent culmination of that and a passing of the torch to us to go and be the stars of our own movies and lives! It’s such an amazing song with a fantastic message and I can’t get enough of it! I also used some new brushes to make the film strip and I’m actually super happy with it!

So all in all, Cinematic is my favorite Owl City album and one of my all time favorites in general. Every song is unique and brings a great message and story. This project, although very time consuming, was an absolute blast to work on and brainstorm around. This album means so much to me and I really hope I was able to showcase some of that here. Please go give it a listen if you’ve never heard it before, or even if you have and it’s been awhile! I know there’s a lot of people who don’t like Owl City’s newer stuff, but give this one a fair shake! (Coco Moon is a fantastic follow up too btw hehe) So overall, thank you Adam for making such fantastic music for so long now and I can’t wait to see the show in Indianapolis later this year!!

[uroborosymphony]

"Calista," Sarang breaths against the palm of the Lamia's hand, and it sounds like a prayer. It is, in a way. So rarely does she speak her name, avoiding the entirety of it all together, that whenever she allows the syllables to gather on her tongue, they spill over her lips like blood out of a wound finally liberated to heal... or kill her. Calista shows weakness by dancing around her Huntress. Sarang shows weakness by bowing before her executor, or the one who should have been an executor, but is now wielder of her heartstrings, the bow of her life energy. She nuzzles her cheek further into Calista's hand and smiles up, a vixen vowing allegiance to a dragon, sharp-toothed and with a glint in her eyes. "Do you speak a language that would grant me the words needed to describe how much I've missed you?" ((no context, just me choking about the immortal terrorist girlfriends, hope this is okay~))

"Yes?" The Lamia answers. It is rare for Sarang to voice out her name, it sounds like a prayer when she does, a prayer Calista answers to, religiously. She is sitting, while her huntress is laying down on that couch, her head into Calista's lap. Her fingers have been gently traveling through Sarang's dark locks, over her temples, sometimes resting down her shoulder as they have been reading, both holding a book. The atmosphere is silent, soothing on the soul for a sunday afternoon. Her attention is never divided when it comes to Sarang, and so, she places her read down, closing the pages meticulously, to listen to her. Sarang's cheek is nuzzled into Calista's hand as a fond facial expression draws on the lamia's usual harsh and severe features. A rare sight, of pure adoration from Calista as her eyes rest on her huntress, her fingertips caressing the apple of her delicate cheek, her eyes meeting hers when the other looks up. Naturally, the timid smile of the creature mirrors Sarang's while she listens to her words, carefully. "I do." Answers the Lamia on a tranquil tone. Being the erudit she is, after living 600 years there was no languages she did not master. Even the forgotten and forbidden ones. "My Own." She then adds, her fingertips now following the lines of Sarang's features, light, cautious, as if her skin is made of glass and secrets. "The Lamias, daughters of Hecate, communicate in their own language. A secret one. Yes, that is right, I do have sisters. Sisters I regularly crossed path with prior to the Great War. A sorority of eleven ; I am the twelfth. The Lamias aimed to chain me down for my disobedience, my refusal to bend to Hecate, the chaos they knew I was euphoric to cast on both the Immaterial and Material realms. I could not possibly let such obstacle stand on the way of a world I still am planning on reshaping. Hence why," Her eyes change colors, as they always do when her head wanders in territories only the creature is aware of, from golden to black, to bloody red. The tip of her index finger, tracing Sarang's jawline, then lifts the other's chin slightly and keep on diving into that undying, untouched, untainted beauty of hers. The creature's eyes switch back their nominal golden again, losing themselves into Sarang's even more. "I remain the only one left speaking the language and I want you, only you, to hear it." She whispers, leaning down, closing the distance between their faces.

She whispers, the depth of her voice on a light tone that seizes the air, with her mother tongue, like an untold secret, a pandora box. "It means : The skin off my bone, the blood out of my veins, until you return to be part of me again." Her smile never leave her lips. "Is what I have felt as well, in the years that separated us, through the loneliness of my tormented soul, my Huntress."

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Jay's Thoughts: Extended Cut

Every time you use the phrase “way down” a part of me gets so excited

OH OH OH- okokok. Nyx i think was the one to point it out in your post yesterday with the sneak peek, smth about Eurydice dying in some versions because she was bit by a rattlesnake and drawing the parallels of that to the feeling in Juno’s stomach and yeahhhhhhh. YEAHHHHHHHH- kisses kisses kisses ya’ll are so smart Also the mental image you’ve created in my head of juno walking “shirt soaked through with sweat”- like, he’s miserable buttttt…. Also… beating myself back so i don’t say something i later regret

THE RUSH I’M GETTING RN IS THE SAME AS THE RUSH I GOT LISTENING TO THE CLEAN BREAK PART 2 FOR THE FIRST TIME OOOOUUUGHGHGGHHGHGH- THIS COULD ONLY BE MADE BETTER IF JUNO MENTIONED THE SMELL 

“...and a wall around his heart. [stopSTOPPPP-] His overalls were covered in muc and brick dust, [lack of care for his appearance which is very important usually to Nureyev] his glasses were broken, and his eyes looked hollow and weary. [MY HEART!!] But, gods, he might as well have had a gilded halo around his head for the way Juno wanted to fall down at his feet weeping and praying.” [IDOLISM SPOTTED!! DEIFICATION SPOTTED!! ANGEL NUREYEV SPOTTED!! MUSE! WORSHIP! RELIGIOUS IMAGERY! GAHHH- this has everything in it that I want and love and its only the beginning….]

“Blesses Saint Peter of the Workers.” OH WE DOING THIS HUH ZEPH??!! OKAY! OKAY THEN- Saint Peter is an actual Saint, he holds the keys to the gates of heaven and is referenced in the song “Sixteen Tons”. A different Saint Peter is accounted as “the wonderworker” for his acts of wonder working in 920 (organizing famine relief and ransom for captives and treating the ill). The Wonderworker was called a Thaumaturgy, someone who performs miracles (which, actually fits the narrative Kabert have built for Nureyev and the Dokana group…)

Oh boy, nothing can go wrong now that Juno has found him! I STAND CORRECTED HE ISN’T RESPONDING TO HIS NAME! AAAAAGGGGHHHHH-

OH THE RATTLESNAKE IS STILL HERE

“Nothing. Just that steady Hadestown rhythm of breathe, strike, lift. Breathe. Strike. Lift.” So even Juno can hear it…

“He wasn’t alive now. The poorly sutured gash in his neck was evidence enough of that.” I’m crying. I’m actually crying. I’m coming down from my high writing that Angel of Brahma thing and now this and I’m crying. 

“Juno was nearly crying now [NO SHIT JUNO HERE I GOT YOU BABE, I GOT YOU BABY GIRL, I’LL CRY ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF US], scared and desperate, the world going blurry through the tears stuck in his lashes. The rattlesnake hidden in his stomach was letting out another steady hiss, it’s teeth bared in warning once more.” [Rattlesnakes hissing and rattling their tail is indeed a warning sign. This is all a big red flag Juno. You gotta run while you can.]

“I’m here to take you home.” THIS ISN’T FUCKING FAIR-

“And then something strangely extraordinary happened. Peter blinked. And it was like a miracle.” NOT FUCKING FAIR- Buddy is rioting back home. She is pissed, beyond pissed, and IT’S NOT FAIR! NONE OF IT IS FUCKING FAIR!! AGGG- I got something good to share after this, something real good. 

“And a grin more blinding than the sun snuck on to his face, chasing away the despair and melancholy.” I feel like there’s a line you wrote before that is similar to this… I might just be thinking though of how you describe Juno’s singing and his song.

“He looked at Juno, wonder and surprise and love in his eyes, and mouthed a single word. Juno!” OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- I’m dry heaving this is too fucking sweet.

Describing hugs and embraces will never not strike me in the gut. So precious, sacred, vulnerable… THE SMELL! Or at least it’s A Smell. Either way I called it I’m complete. And the fact that Juno felt whole again with Nureyev. Like- he was halved when he lost Ben. He was so lost and desperate and lonely, and losing Nureyev reopened that wound, but now that he has Nureyev back in his arms (no matter how temporary) he feels whole again. Speaking levels.

Zeph I am raising my hand in the air for a big ass high five, low five, mid five- all the hand slaps right now. I LOVE getting to incorporate sign language into my writing, it’s a lot of fun. In some of my earlier attempts, I wrote American Sign up as if it were Glossed, and now a couple of years later I’ve turned to treating it like spoken dialogue. It is a very real experience for someone who is not a native signer to have to switch my brain from English to Sign and struggle to do so so quickly. I am very used to asking people to SIGN SLOW PLEASE LEARNING Makes me curious though why Juno knows sign…

Juno hastily explaining “Jet’s a psychopomp whatever that means” = Juno explaining what the fuck the Ruby7 is

“And then when I got to the wall… I just. I sang.” Something something- original mythos, Orpheus sang to Cerberus and subdued the dog with his sad song. He sang to Charon and got free passage across the Styx because he was that sad. This imagery though is reminding me of that one Adventure Time episode where Magic Man steals Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, BMO, and Marceline’s stuff. And the only way to get it back is to sing a true song from the heart. 

This Juno is very close to S2 Canon Juno. Destructive and hasn’t learned his lesson yet. And now he sort of is but… not really… He called your name before he went. Guess you didn’t hear it….

“Soft like a magnolia petal in early spring with the kind of tenderness and care that only a very deep-rooted love can produce.” MAGNOLIA PETAL??? Language of flowers meaning NOBILITY… hmmm… Rex Glass alias is King Glass… Slip Jackson is King of Hadestown… hmmm….

“growing through the cracks of Nureyev’s walls” LIKE TEH WALLS TO HADESTOWN OOUGGGHH!

And Juno babe- love the optimism. Love the “My name is Juno Steel, and I always get my man” type attitude you’ve brought with you, but that won’t work! Try Again! :D

“You’re not from around here, are you?” OH NO OH SHIT RUN JUNO STEEL, RUN!!

Anndddd Nureyev’s blue screened, he’s hit flight or fight and he chose FREEZE!

“And who the hell are you?” he sounds like a literal child in my head rn lol

“An old friend of Petyas’. [OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT ITS THE SLIPPY BOY-] And the man who owns this city. You can call me Slip. You’d best be going, though. This city doesn’t take kindly to strays.” [OHHHHH!!]

Juno Steel, “I always get my man” = Juno Steel, “I’m not leaving without him”

“He hasn’t told you, has he?” I can hear how fucking smug he is rn

“a sick feeling beginning to snake back into his gut. ‘Tell me what, Peter?’” FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK ABORT- ABORTT!! RUN NUREYE!!!!

“I told you I own this city, and that includes the people in it. My darling Petya [OH OH OH THIS MAKES ME WANNA BITE HIM, HIT HIM, FIGHT HIM- NO ONE OWNS PETER NUREYEV- NO ONE!!! Smth smth “everyone who’s called me Pete wants to be my parent”] I was initially going to keep him from having to work out here, but since he decided he would rather keep company with my workers than me, [yeahhhh- i wonder why.] I decided to let him do some of the work himself,’ Slip shrugged, walking forward and resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.” [the jarring gap between Slip calling him Petya, calling him My Darling Petya, and Juno still thinking of him as Peter… it’s fucking with my head in the best way.]

“It isn’t true… it can’t be true. Tell me it isn’t true.” my brain says this is a reference to “Is it True?” and i’m getting sense of a rebellion? Of the workers turning on Slip and demanding that he give Peter and Juno a chance? Hmmmm? I have hope. I believe. 

“Executives? Would you mind showing this young man here what we do with trespassers?” OH FUCK- not even a “young lady” but a “young man” OH FUCK- Slip’s boutta catch some hands“Suddenly, two large, identical men dressed in brown coats appeared behind Juno. Before he could say a word or move in defense, there was movement, a sharp pain radiating through his skull, and then Juno Steel knew no more.” Huh. huh. HUH! HUH?! WHAT?! He can’t be dead- he can’t be! …right? Mmm- S1 reference on the horizon maybe? Reference to Juno being thrown in Miasma’s tomb? OR SEASON 4 REFERENCE TO PALOMINE CORRECTIONS??? HMMM!!! I’m excited for whatever is to come :)

SONG FOR A CAGED LOVEBIRD: PART 13

this took. a while!! life has been busy recently lol. i feel it is important to note that this part 13 also cashed in at 1,666 words. this was not intentional, but uh. definitely has got some evil undertones.

reading some of the stuff peter says might get a lil confusing- just remember he is signing all of this!! i didn't want to write the word "signed" three million times and sign language is literally a language, just not a spoken one, so i used "said" instead

I SUMMON THEE TPP CREW: @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde @demonic-panini @the-private-eye

Way down deep in the pit of Juno’s stomach, a scaly rattlesnake of dread curled up and bared its fangs.

His muscles ached and his shirt was soaked through with sweat, and every few steps came with a cough from the horrible, black-dust air. He’d been searching the walls for hours now, looking for any sign of the tall, knife-thin figure that had sliced his world in half from the moment he walked into it. 

He’d seen a lot of workers. It took a lot of effort for him to not cringe at the sight of them. A hundred thousand faces, laying brick and chipping away at stone, each one looking as bone-tired and hopeless as the next. Some even looked vaguely familiar, distorted into someone he recognized through the dream-like haze in the air. But he hadn’t found anything of Peter Nureyev yet.

The rattlesnake shivered out a tense hiss. He was beginning to question everything. Had Rita remembered what had happened correctly? Maybe he’d missed him somewhere? Was Peter even here?

And suddenly all of Juno’s fear melted away.

There he was. A lone figure against the harsh lava glow of the factories behind him.

Just like he had the first time, he looked tired and disheveled, dirt on his face and a wall around his heart. His overalls were covered in mud and brick dust, his glasses were broken, and his eyes looked hollow and weary. But, gods, he might as well have had a gilded halo around his head for the way Juno wanted to fall down at his feet weeping and praying.

Blessed Saint Peter of the Workers.

Juno broke into a sprint.

“Nureyev?! Nureyev!!”

There was no answer. Peter just kept hacking away at the rock with his pickaxe, head bowed to the ground.

Juno scrambled up the rickety wooden ramp to the top of the wall as the rattlesnake slithered back into his gut. Peter barely noticed him. “Nureyev. Nureyev, please. Peter, please look at me!”

Nothing. Just that steady Hadestown rhythm of breathe, strike, lift. Breathe. Strike. Lift.

Juno grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. Peter’s eyes were completely empty, like the work here had sucked every last ounce of life out of him. Flashes of memory sped by in Juno’s mind. 

Peter laughing. Peter working out logic problems with Buddy. Peter telling stories with Rita. Peter fixing up the bar with Jet. Peter looking at him in wonder. Peter being alive.

He wasn’t alive now. The poorly sutured gash in his neck was evidence enough of that.

Juno was nearly crying now, scared and desperate, the world going blurry through the tears stuck in his lashes. The rattlesnake hidden in his stomach was letting out another steady hiss, it’s teeth bared in warning once more.

“Peter, please, you gotta remember me,” Juno whispered, pulling Peter’s head down to his. “I’m here to take you home.”

And then something strangely extraordinary happened.

Peter blinked. And it was like a miracle.

The hollowness cleared from his eyes in an instant. He squinted slightly through the dim light and broken glasses, and then recognition sparked in his eyes, and a grin more blinding than the sun snuck onto his face, chasing away the despair and melancholy. He looked at Juno, wonder and surprise and love in his eyes, and mouthed a single word.

Juno!

And then they were in each other's arms, holding each other like it was the only thing in the world that existed. Juno realized he was fully crying now, and Peter was crying too. His fist was clenched in Peter’s shirt that smelled like coal dust and sweat and fear but he didn’t care. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were here now, and they were holding each other, and he felt whole again. And it was like the world released a breath it barely knew it was holding back.

They stayed like that for a long time, crying and hugging and gently rocking back and forth, until both of them could breathe normally, like the sheer fact of the other’s presence could fix every problem they had ever known.

Juno pulled away from the hug first and kissed Peter hard. “You absolute DUMBASS. What the hell were you thinking, Nureyev? Getting yourself tangled up in the underworld?”

Peter made a slightly sour face and began signing something at Juno, too fast for him to understand.

“Wait, wait, wait. Slow down a minute. It’s been a while since I had to interpret sign, babe. You’re gonna have to sign slower than that.”

Peter sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, but planted a sweet kiss on Juno’s cheek before signing again, slower this time.

"How the hell did you get down here?"

“Jet led me. Apparently he used to work for Hadestown as a psychopomp or something. He wouldn’t go into it too much, though.”

"No, no, no," Peter said, snapping his fingers closed in slight frustration. "How did you get past the wall? No one gets in unless they come by train."

“Ah. Well, that’s interesting. There’s a backroad that I went down. And then when I got to the wall… I just. I sang. I asked it to let me in, said I needed to find you, and the stones just moved aside. I don’t know how.”

There was a pause. Peter was chewing on his lip now, looking at Juno with some emotion akin to reproach on his face. “What’s the matter, babe?”

"I called your name before I… left. And you never came for me."

Juno sucked in a pained breath through his teeth and looked at the rough-hewn ground. “You…. you did. I know.” 

Peter’s expression was rapidly approaching one that looked like it might burst into tears. "You knew? You heard me?"

“No, I didn’t know. Rita saw all of it. She…. she told me the story.” Juno sighed deeply, ran his hands over his face, and squatted down to the ground. “I’m so sorry, Nureyev. All of this is my fault. I should have been paying more attention to you, because you told me that you were hungry and I thought it would be fine, I just didn’t listen, and if I had listened, you wouldn’t be in this mess-”

Juno broke off as he felt Peter’s fingers under his chin, forcing him to look up. 

"Listen to me. This is not your fault," he said gently before giving Juno another kiss. His face had such a soft expression on it, soft like a magnolia petal in early spring with the kind of tenderness and care that only a very deep-rooted love can produce. 

Juno looked at that softness growing through the cracks of Nureyev’s walls and found himself falling in love with him all over again.

“It’s okay, though. I can fix this. I came to bring you home again. I can just sing the song again and the stones will let us back out- what’s the matter?”

Peter had begun shaking his head slowly. "Won’t work," he said, jaw clenched tight and face painted with varying shades of regret.

“What do you mean, it won’t work? It’ll work, I promise, Peter, I can get us out of-”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” 

A booming voice echoed across the wall in response, and Juno watched Nureyev go completely still, eyes wide and face stark white with fear and panic. Juno wasn’t sure who the man in the neat suit walking towards them was, but Peter’s reaction to his voice was enough to set Juno on edge in his defense.

He stood, back straight and eyes narrowed with as much confidence and menace as he could manage. “And who the hell are you?”

The man grinned, and something about his smile made Juno want to punch him. “An old friend of Petya’s. And the man who owns this city. You can call me Slip. You’d best be going, though. This city doesn’t take kindly to strays.”

Juno didn’t move a muscle. The man stared at him, eyes cold and clean and razor sharp.

“I said, you need to leave this city. Now.” 

“I’m not leaving without him.”

Nureyev stood then and turned to face the man, Slip, with a tension Juno had never seen in him before, and began shooting angry words in his direction. His hands were moving too fast for Juno to catch anything more than a few words: “alone,” “deal,” “my voice,” “take,” and “let him go”. Slip’s grin only widened.

“He hasn’t told you, has he?” he asked, leaning slightly to see Juno’s face.

Juno looked at Peter, a sick feeling beginning to snake back into his gut. “Tell me what, Peter?”

Peter looked at him painfully before staring wide-eyed at the ground and chewing on his lip.

The rattlesnake buzzed out a tremor of fear. “Peter, what did you do?”

“I told you I own this city, and that includes the people in it. My darling Petya here signed a contract for a job, and now he belongs to me. I was initially going to keep him from having to work out here, but since he decided he would rather keep company with my workers than me, I decided to let him do some of the work himself,” Slip shrugged, walking forward and resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

It was like the world was collapsing in on itself.

“It isn’t true,” Juno breathed, eyes widening. “It can’t be true. Tell me it isn’t true.”

Peter wouldn’t meet his eyes. He simply nodded and said nothing else.

The rattlesnake’s hiss crescendoed. Juno felt like he might throw up.

“Executives? Would you mind showing this young man here what we do with trespassers?” Slip called.

Suddenly, two large, identical men dressed in brown coats appeared behind Juno. Before he could say a word or move in defense, there was movement, a sharp pain radiating through his skull, and then Juno Steel knew no more.

[cartierbin]

[full kinktober m.list] Day 2

✫-- ii. minho x female!OC ✫-- genre! in which minho fucks the pastor's daughter. ✫-- kinks! orgasm control, degradation, humiliation. ✫-- word count! 1.691k ✫-- notes! I noticed that when most of you submitted your requests for the taglist you didn't use your tumblr username, so I apologize in advance if you didn't get tagged. the link to the strawpoll is in the kinktober masterlist if you want to submit it again!

✫-- taglist: @quackity-writing @domseungie @kayannainsworth19

she jumped back quite startled at the obnoxious slam of the door behind her. so much that cash began spilling from the now tilted offering basket onto the floor. she wasn't expecting anyone to come in after her. and normally no one did.

"what are you doing nala?".

she turns towards the low toned voice, locking eyes with the delinquent lee minho who wore that same cynical grin that drove her up a wall. he knew he shouldn't be anywhere near her father's office. nevertheless near her. only she was allowed to be in there. especially during the nightly prayer service.

"no what are you doing? get out of here you know better". she harshly whispered, not wanting to disrupt any praying that was going on as the sanctuary sounded dead silent. he shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth letting his eyes wonder her shapely figure. he could tell she always tried to hide her curves for religious purposes but not even the longest of skirts could hide the fact that she was well endowed. she pushes her circular frames up the bridge of her nose while nervously clutching the offering bucket.

"I can't come see you?". he smiled sweetly, juxtaposing the menace he was known as. that was another thing she couldn't stand about minho. he was rotten as hell but had a smile that could make the heavenly angels sing.

"what do you want?".

he chuckles and drew closer, planting his hands on the ledge of the desk right behind her forcing her to inhale the pungent scent of marijuana. his mother always told him to stop smoking before service but he had yet to listen. needless to say he was a bit stoned and she was now caged in by his arms and broad chest but she still curved her head in the other direction, any direction that wasn't aimed directly at his face. she couldn't stand to look him in the eye. mostly because she was trying to avoid the rush of emotions he made her feel. he smirks down at her nonetheless.

"come on princess. you can't even look at me now?".

"you know this isn't right".

"what isn't?".

"don't play dumb. you know it's a sin".

he encompasses his hand around her jaw lightly, turning her head straight forward. she was swept off her feet in his eyes--completely entranced in a paradise that ceased time. he knew what he was doing whenever he gazed down at her like this, like a tiger in search for it's prey. yet he smiles.

"what's a sin?".

her eyes danced up into his, suddenly lost. searching for something. searching for whatever it was that made her feel like this. that made her heart flutter and her knees want to collapse on the floor beneath her. he grips the hem of her skirt with his fingertips drawing it up every so slightly while still fixating his eyes on her. "what's the sin? I want you to tell me". he swiftly spits the toothpick out his mouth.

his hands quickly found purchase at the back of her thick thighs lifting her onto the desk with ease. even then she was still starstruck, not knowing if she should give in and not knowing if she should deny it either. he never gave her time to think of anything especially when he was leaning in, swiping his tongue over her moistened lips before he kissed each of them softly. each kiss gradually became chaste and heated, and when the time came he smirked into her mouth knowing she'd be kissing back in no time. he knew she was weak. he knew she couldn't reject him even if she tried. time hadn't moved much before he was clutching the flesh of her thighs while grinding his growing erection between them. she'd be a liar straight from the pits of hell if she said she didn't want this.

his wet lips dragged along the skin of her neck while her back arched into the perfect bow. "minho, minho please not in here". he glides his tongue to that spot behind her ear before kissing it. "what? ashamed of how wet your pussy is getting in your father's church?". he snuck a hand below him just to cram his fingers into her panties. a long gasp fell from her lips while her pupils dilated at the ceiling above. he hadn't even buried his fingers fully inside of her yet and she was already gushing with slick. his eyes feasted her blissful facial expressions, eyes scrunching and mouth hanging completely open confining moans at the back of her throat. he used two fingers to pump inside of her smoothly, sending a jolt of arousal to her torso. he inched them in steadily feeling her clench around them. her hefty breaths came out as desperate whimpers, she began flushing her waist against his hand wanting absolutely every inch she could possibly get. "fuck. you must've wanted this bad?". her coffee colored skin flashed a firetruck red as she buried her face into his chest while riding his fingers. "pplease don't curse". her plea hastily turned into a tiny moan.

"I can't curse but you get to fuck my fingers like a whore? look at you".

the self realization drowned her in shame. but oddly enough she liked it. she hated admitting she liked anything that involved minho but she couldn't deny the fact that his condescending words made her throb in her sticky panties. "please". she begged once more, her eyes dry sobbing at how good it felt. "please". was all she could chant hoping that he'd get the hint. he pressed his thumb against that familiar slippery bundle of nerves. she almost squealed but quickly caught herself. "you want to ride my dick again don't you?". he teased. the moans she gifted him from the circles he was rubbing sent a spark arousal straight to his groin. "don't you? church girl?". he found it hot how desperate her response and head nod had gotten.

his fingers curved around the underside of the desk while she rode him like a pornstar, hands splayed on his chest while her ass bounced wildly with each thrust. his finger nails began digging into the wood as fire coiled in his gut. a seed of pride always sprouted in her chest at the sight of minho beneath her groaning in unbridled lust. only he couldn't help himself --it was like heaven whenever he got inside of her, her creaming walls clenching around his cock so tight that it made his toes curl. he drops his head back, "you ride dick so fucking good you should be ashamed of yourself".

that heinous feeling covered her body again and she realizes it felt so much better when he said all of those things while she was taking his cock to the hilt. every time she reseats it inside of her she releases a prolonged moan only audible for the both of them. he slides his rough hands around just to grope her ass. "you're supposed to be in the sanctuary praying but instead you're in here getting your pussy filled", she releases a sharp whine throbbing harsher at his words. he glares at the silver cross pendant that was dangling around her neck."you're a disgrace before god do you know that?". she whimpers with a tear rolling down her burning cheeks. she was close and she could tell this was going to be the hardest orgasm he's ever given her. she uttered breathlessly, "yes I know".

"don't you fucking cum yet".

"min, minho pplease".

"you think a nasty little saint like you deserves to cum? it's like a cycle for you isn't it?".

tears flooded her eyes as she resisted the urge to hasten her pace so she can reach her orgasm quickly. instead she was forced to ride him painfully slow and what was even more painful was hearing him humiliate the hell out of her.

"isn't it? you let me fuck you as I please and then you're back at the alter begging for repentance every single sunday?".

she whimpered, feeling his dick throb inside of her while he read her to filth. sometimes she didn't know if she was crying because she wanted to cum or because she was ashamed of herself. maybe a bit of both. he slapped her ass anyways, refreshing the handprints he already imprinted on her ass from the previous times they fucked.

"who told you to slow down?".

"please, please I need to". she cried out trying to ride him a bit faster but her legs were trembling dangerously hard. "look at me". her swollen eyes and flushed face followed orders.

"you think I give a damn about those tears? huh?". her heart sunk when he switches his position, making her hold her legs up to the ceiling while he fucked up into her so hard that the bible study books on the desk slid clean off. one by one each of them slapped on the floor. "go ahead and cry. that's what you do best right? after getting railed you cry like you regret it". she grips the collar of his shirt as her body continuously jerks up from his thrusts. that ballooning feeling she felt deep within her was going to burst any minute now. "you don't regret anything because you fucking love it don't you?". he half smiles, grabbing a fistful of her curly hair. her body began to convulse. "admit you're addicted to sex and I'll let you cum". she could barely speak while he was balls deep inside of her like this but she tried the best way she knew how. "I'm, I'm addicted". she breathlessly whines.

"you're addicted to what?".

"I'm addicted to sex". the word could barely come out her mouth as she was already shuddering in his grip, her juices making a mess of both her and him.

when she was finished he plants a kiss on her clammy forehead whilst zipping up his jeans.

"make sure you clean up in here. I'm sure your father knows the smell of sin".

[panda-writes-kpop]

Demon! SuA - Tainted Love

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! This is a bit of a longer piece, so I'd grab a water and maybe something to eat before sitting down. You might want to grab some tissues while you're up, if you're wondering what kind of fic this is. Also, big thank you to @kingmaker-a for giving this fic a read before it came out! I had to have the Angstmaker give his stamp of approval if I was gonna write some angst, and I'm so glad that I did. 💖

Masterlist!

TW: Mentions of labyrinths, lots of angst, author venting, demons (no duh, Katie), self-deprication, mentions of food, serial killers, and hell, more angst, a toxic relationship, blood, mention of oceans and drowning, implied torture (?), mentions of death, religious themes, reader drinks alcohol, no happy ending :), also SuA acts very ooc and I definitely would not use this as an accurate judge of her character or personality.

Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Everyone faces a labyrinth of sorts in their life. Whether it’s the physical limitations of their body, the mental anguish that comes with living life, or that feeling of isolation that everyone experiences from time to time, the personalized labyrinth of life comes for us all at one point or another. 

Most people find an escape to their labyrinth. You can strengthen your body so you can push the limits of your body, you can talk to someone who can help you understand and control your feelings, and you can find comfort in the love of your friends and family when you feel alone.

My labyrinth, however, is one that I will never escape. It has a tight grip on me that I will never escape because I don’t want to let go of it. My labyrinth is my crutch, and it’s a poison that’s killing me from the inside. I can never let go of the thing that I want the most, no matter how much I want to run from it.

Love. Love is the labyrinth that I choose to face head-on. No matter how much love bites me, I want to believe that love will be my savior even though it’s my torturer. I let myself get hurt over and over again for a simple what if that will never come my way.

What if… that’s a statement that will lead you to an endless amount of questions that will never lead you to the answer that you seek. 

What if I talked to them more? What if I was a better listener? What if I was more attractive? What if I was smarter?

What if instead of trying to gain love advice from a demon and then falling in love with her, I just talked to someone about my problems?

What if?

I guess that’s the reason I’m trying to run away. How do you get away from the problems that you create? How do you find your escape to the labyrinth?

In my case, I answered both of those questions in the stupidest way possible.

Get away

From the pain you drive into the heart of me

Everything started when I was young. That’s where that labyrinth of love started to surround me, and I wasn’t able to find an escape. 

When we were kids, we threw love around as a silly word that didn’t mean much. Love was just another normal expression that we used on a day-to-day basis. We loved drawing, we loved playing on the swing set, and we loved being young and free to do as we pleased.

As a teenager, love has a different meaning. Love can be used as a sweet safety blanket or a fiery weapon of destruction. It wouldn’t be uncommon to see a couple act all lovey-dovey in the morning, and then you’d see them arguing by the end of the day. Love was used as an excuse for horrible actions and bad mistakes. Love became a sword that would protect you or harm you. The scary thing was, you didn’t know which sword was which until someone tried to use it against you.

Love was like a whispered secret that I had yet to discover. A secret that had yet to make its rounds to my ear, but even then, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. I mostly stayed out of the dating scene as a teen, but I did try and fail a few times. Every time the hope of love would build me up to a new height, the reality of me not being good enough for the people I was interested in would bring me back down to Earth. I was scorned by love, but I kept trying because I was a stupid kid. 

I trapped myself in my own labyrinth of love. I put myself through so much trauma that I distanced myself from the world. I felt unlovable because the world had yet to tell me that I was. I convinced myself that some white knight would come and save me from this labyrinth. I didn’t want to leave, so someone would have to come rescue me.

As for that white knight, I didn’t exactly have a demon whose job was to screw me over in mind.

Now, as an adult, I have yet to discover what love is to me. Is love innocent like childhood, or is it as harmful as my teenage mind made it out to be? Was love both or neither?

I didn’t know love until I saw her. Everything that I felt before that moment didn’t matter. I’d forgotten how much love had betrayed me when I went up and talked to her for the first time. I didn’t need anyone else if she was by my side.

We weren’t kids, and we weren’t teens. We were adults who could make a relationship work, right? I just had to make her fall for me like I had fallen for her. 

...But love has different plans that left me alone in the labyrinth once again. She fell in love with someone who was better than I was, and I simply couldn’t be mad at her for that. She deserves someone who would love her, and that obviously wasn’t me. 

Heartbroken, I wandered home alone the day I found out about her partner. I didn’t care that it was dark, and that I could’ve gotten hurt. I felt numb like nothing in the world could hurt me. I felt like I couldn’t hurt myself even though my body would feel the pain later on.

That’s when I found the book. A torn book with ripped pages and scribbled handwriting. That book would show me how to escape my labyrinth by placing me in an even bigger one. 

I should’ve left that god-forsaken book on the sidewalk, or in the trash where it belonged.

I, being the fool that I am, had to pick up the book. A bit of light reading couldn’t hurt after a rough day, right?

Right?

The love we share

Seems to go nowhere

I came home and closed the door behind me while clutching the book close to my chest. It was my prized possession that I had won for losing at the most important aspect in life.

I set my coat and other material possessions aside for the book, and I turned on a lamp and sat down in a nearby chair. 

I merely skimmed the book as I tried to decipher its hidden meaning. Why would a book like that appear in my life if it didn’t mean something? Everything in the world meant something to someone. As I admired those pages, I tried to think of what use that book would have to me. It’s unreadable handwriting had no monetary value, and the book looked like it had been through hell and back.

Oh, only if I knew that book really had been through hell.

Sleep quickly overcame me as I finished searching through the book, and I gently set the book on the table next to me. 

Too tired to walk to bed, I simply slept on that chair as my mind spent another night dreaming of those stupid ‘what ifs’.

I arose in a state of complete disarray as the morning light peeked through my home’s windows. Luckily, it was the weekend and I didn’t have to worry about working the next day. 

I pulled myself out of the chair and began to prepare breakfast. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but I didn’t care to eat much as my mind still wandered over the what ifs of life.

What if I had made a move earlier? What if I waited until they broke up to date her? What if I wasn’t good enough for her? What if, what if, what if.

At that moment, while drowning my sorrows in a bowl of cereal and milk, I met “the one”.

She wasn’t anything like the girl from earlier. The girl I loved was sweeter than honey and had a heart made of gold.

The girl that I was about to meet would make serial killers look like saints if they stood next to her.

All I remember was looking up, and she was there. While I sat with that bowl of depressing cereal in front of me, she leaned over me and gently scanned me over with her eyes. Her hand gently graced my face for a moment, and I remember feeling like I wanted her to keep her hand there forever.

The girl leaned away from me before chuckling. She stuck her hand out as the morning light illuminated her fierce features. 

Her strong jawline would make a model jealous, and her piercing brown eyes could cut straight through someone without a second glance. Her black suit defined her perfect figure as her brown hair seemed to float behind her head.

Everything about her screamed dangerous and deadly, but I couldn’t see the beast past the beauty in front of me. I didn’t question how she got in my house or why such a beautiful woman was in front of me. 

To be fair, I didn’t really care at that moment in time, either.

She laughed again before wiggling her fingers in her extended hand. That laugh was a sound that I loved and dreaded. She used it when she was happy, or when she was very mad.

“The name’s SuA, and by the way you’re looking at me, I can tell we’ll be great pals.”

Pals, as SuA said it, would be the last word in the dictionary that I would use to describe our relationship.

Our relationship was like an endless loop of love, hurt, pain, and apologies. She was the labyrinth that I trapped myself in after escaping the loveless one.

Turns out, the only thing that’s worse than a loveless labyrinth is a labyrinth that is tainted with a love that’ll break you to your core.

And I've lost my light

For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

I sat there, stunned by her forwardness. Was she really talking to me? Was a woman that perfect really in my home? Did my dreams finally come to fruition, or had I finally gone mad from my desires?

Stupidly, I slipped my hand into hers, and I shaked it while trying to understand what exactly was happening.

“Y/N. I can’t help but wonder, why exactly are you in my home?”

SuA’s laughter hit my ears again, and I’d already become addicted to the sound of her happiness that echoes through my home.

“Oh, you humans are so naive! It’s adorable.” SuA gently tapped my nose which caused a wildfire of red to spread across my face. “You summoned me with that handy-dandy book that you found.”

My eyes widened as I grabbed the book from the table. 

I was in absolute disbelief of what she was suggesting to me. Summoning? Demons are summoned, and the woman in front of me didn’t look like a demon.

Well, demons aren’t just called demons because of their looks. That was a lesson that I had yet to learn when this encounter took place.

I, in a moment of blinding idiocracy, asked her the first thing that came to mind.

“So, does that make you a demon?”

“Unless angels have started popping up from bibles, and the last time I checked they haven’t, I’m the only creature that you can find from a book.” 

SuA sighed before pulling her hand from me. She then raised one hand in the air which caused every object that was on my table, including my bowl of cereal, to float in the air. The objects nearly touched my ceiling by the time SuA lowered her hand to her side.

My mouth was wide open in shock as SuA flashed me a wicked smirk. Was she really that powerful?

“You like what you see, right? That’s only the beginning of what we could do together. We can be a great team, but I need you to trust me.”

SuA took a seat on top of my small kitchen table before snatching the leather-bound book.

“Hey, what are you-”

“Hush.” SuA closed her hand, and at the exact same time, my hand covers my mouth. “You’re a lot more attractive when you stop talking.”

I grumbled in slight protest as I blushed out of embarrassment. SuA simply shakes her head before opening the book.

“God, I missed this thing. I’m glad that I was bound to this book because of how powerful it is.” SuA flipped through a few pages. “Ah, yes, the spells about torture, pain, heartbreak, romance-”

Her eyes glanced over to me after she said the word ‘romance’, and she chuckled as my eyes widened at its mentioning.

“You poor lovesick fool. You’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t love you back, right?”

I nodded my head before SuA clicked her tongue.

“I can fix that for you, if you’d like. All I need is your permission.”

SuA relaxed her hand, and my hand dropped from my mouth. I took a deep breath before answering.

“Please help me out, SuA. Do whatever you need to.”

I didn’t sleep that night, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t due to those stupid ‘what ifs’. I opened a whole can of worms that I had to deal with on my own.

As I rolled back and forth on my bed, I tried to forget everything that happened, but I couldn’t. 

Everything about SuA stuck out in my mind. I already could envision her smiles, laughter, or smirks with a simple thought. I knew where my mind was going before I was able to make the conclusion.

I was crushing on a demon that was doing god knows what in order to get me a girl I didn’t want anymore. I had stopped thinking about her the moment SuA appeared. 

SuA was charismatic, funny, and an interesting person to be around. Why hadn’t I figured this out earlier? I could’ve told her then, and this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

The mess I am referring to is the only mess that a demon knows how to make. 

You see, giving a demon the freedom to do anything is like playing Russian Roulette. You don’t know what the hell is about to happen, but it’s about to be bloody and ugly.

I shouldn’t have let a demon become a beacon of light for me. I should’ve stayed in my closet-sized labyrinth and waited for better days to come. 

Go read a book or go outside. Talk to someone if you’re not feeling well. Whatever you do, don’t pick up strange books, accidentally summon a very attractive demon, and then fall in love with her. It’s a very awful, bad, and an all-around horrendous idea.

When SuA walked in with blood on her hands, the first thing I should’ve asked about was who she hurt. Demons can’t be hurt because they’re immortal.

In another moment of stupidity, I asked her if she was okay.

SuA simply sighed before saying, “It's done. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What did you do?”

“You don’t want to know.” SuA deadpans before walking into my bathroom.

I assumed that she was cleaning the blood off, and I didn’t want to know anymore than I had to. I simply let what had happened happen. I had no control over her, and besides, she can’t do something that bad to a living person. Demons should have some sort of self-control, right?

Should have, could have, would have. Those are three phrases that I hate more than what ifs. What ifs are just questions that you ask yourself over and over. Eventually, your mind grows tired and they stop. 

But those words, they never stop. They’ll put you right back into your past mistakes until you’re drowning in a sea of regret, misery, and self-pity. You won’t be able to breathe because the waves of endless possibilities will crash against you over and over until you stop fighting it. You don’t swim when you’re thinking about everything you could’ve, should’ve, would’ve done in a certain scenario. You sink as those thoughts pull you in like a heavy anchor that is attached to your ankle.

I should’ve swam far away when I first saw SuA. I should’ve left the country and gotten a new life. That would’ve put me in a much better position than I’m in now.

But I choose to be continuously pulled into the riptide. At this point in time, it’s a waiting game until I drown myself in my own misery.

Once I ran to you (I ran)

Now, I'll run from you

“Why the hell did you kill them?” I frantically waved my hands at the television as you tried to catch SuA’s attention.

Apparently, SuA’s fingernails were more important than my external panic as she stared at her nails while shrugging her shoulders.

“You told me to do whatever I needed to, and I did.”

“That wasn’t what I meant!” I yell as I nearly pull hairs out of my head while pacing back and forth in my living room.

“Jeez, take a chill pill. I wouldn’t have maimed them if I knew you were going to act like this.”

“You did WHAT?”

A couple’s first fight usually happens after a first date, first kiss, and if they’re lucky, when they first move in together. Since SuA and I are the off-brand version of a normal romantic relationship, we apparently decided to do things a bit out of order.

That being said, we weren’t exactly a couple back then, and I’m not sure if I would call us a couple now, after everything that’s happened.

“I just broke a few bones, dunked them in a nice ice bath, and then tossed them on a side of a road where there’s a lot of oncoming traffic. Whatever happened after that wasn’t directly my fault.” SuA said while digging through my fridge. “What kind of monster doesn’t have orange juice?”

“Hey, get out of there!” I turned the TV off before rushing over to her. “I haven’t had time to go to the store.”

“Do you mind if I make a sandwich?”

“I don’t know, SuA. Do you plan on killing anyone else?” I exasperatedly sighed before leaning on the fridge.

SuA bit her lip before closing the fridge door.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

We both stood there awkwardly as we tried to think of something to say to one another. We came to a threshold that couldn’t be crossed. Granted, most couples don’t exactly tend to fight about murdering someone, but we tried to make it work.

“What happens next?” I softly asked. “How do we fix this?”

“There’s no fixing this, Y/N. I’m a demon, not a miracle worker. We go on with our lives. You get the girl, and I get the book. We have had a mutually beneficial relationship so far, and I’m glad to have met you, but I’ve really got to go now.”

SuA tried to grab the book from the table, but I grabbed it before she could.

“What if I told you that I didn’t want her anymore?”

SuA rolls her eyes before crossing her arms.

“You’re telling me that I murdered someone just for you to get wishy-washy on me? How pathetic.” She spit out before looking at me with disgust.

“I’m not the one who murdered someone. You did that all on your own. Besides, the girl that I have my eye on is much prettier than the first.”

SuA raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, and who would that be?”

SuA unfolded her arms before walking towards me. I kept a blank face as she closed in on me. I can feel my heartbeat all over my body as my mind begins to wander. 

Would she let me kiss her? I guess I can find out now.

SuA put her face close to mine, and I’m so close that I could feel her breath tickle my cheek. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, but I can’t be the first one to make the move.

If she’s the one to save me from my labyrinth, then SuA must show that she's interested in me first.

I didn’t have to think twice as SuA’s lips connect with mine. 

The taste of black licorice entered my mouth, and it was a flavor that I was permanently hooked on. No candy nor sweet could compare to her. Everything about her was perfect, and everything about that moment was perfect too.

SuA and I were like two shooting stars. We had two different paths in the night sky that eventually led us to one another. Normally, stars don’t collide with one another, but we did. Unfortunately, when two stars collide, they don’t stick together.

They explode.

This tainted love you've given

I give you all “a boy” could give you

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

I had tried to make it work. I knew that nothing would work when it came to SuA. She was a demon, and I was mortal. You can’t combine oil and water because they eventually separate from each other. We might have been oil and water, but we couldn’t let go of one another right from the start to the very end.

I knew how this would end. All of the fighting and screaming had to end sometime. I thought it would end with her walking out on me, and to her credit, SuA did walk out, but she always came right back to me.

I wasn’t much better, either. I told her how much I hated everything about her even though I loved her to death. I told her that she was a horrible person even though she was the only person that I could trust. I told her to never lay another hand on me even though she’d be holding me by nightfall.

We were both victims and perpetrators in a crime of passion and love. No cops would catch us because we’d act fine on the outside, like nothing had happened. Our relationship was perfect because that’s all the neighbors needed to worry about.

Oh, that screaming that you heard? Sorry, the music was too loud!

The sound of glass breaking woke you up at one in the morning? Sorry, my girlfriend had the munchies and she accidentally dropped the glass container of cookies. You don’t have to worry about us!

That crying sound? We had a movie night with a few friends, and some of us got really emotional. We’ll try to pick something happier next time.

Lies, lies, lies. It seemed like everything in our relationship was built on a lie. 

SuA wasn’t the one who lied. Oh, no, I had to be the bad guy.

Of course I was the antagonist. We both weren’t to blame for a failing relationship, right? It was all my fault because I started this whole thing. 

SuA didn’t have to kiss me. She didn’t have to save me from my labyrinth. She could’ve left me alone while running off with that magic book of hers.

But no, she kissed me and here we are. SuA slammed the door in my face after another heated fight, and I’m drinking my sorrows away while trying to figure out where I went wrong.

I do this once a week, but I haven’t learned my lesson. I know that SuA will come home and degrade me for drinking alone, but I’ll sit and take it on my chin in the name of “love”.

What sort of sick, twisted love have we wrapped ourselves in? This isn’t love, and I know it. Hell, I’m sure SuA does too. 

Sure, love can hurt, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re being run over by a fifty-ton dump truck every time you talk to your partner. Love can burn, but you shouldn’t be covered in third-degree burns on a daily basis. Love can make you bleed, but you shouldn’t be left to die with cuts all over your body.

I take a swig of the drink in front of me, and I enjoy feeling it burn as the liquid travels down my throat. 

Nothing can hurt you more than love except your thoughts, and I’ve been hurt by both on numerous occasions.

Without thinking, I take my drink and chuck it at the TV in front of me. Of course, the TV screen shatters along with the drink. I know that SuA will be pissed when she comes home, but I don’t care about our relationship or what others may think. 

Numbness has replaced any sort of feeling I have towards her. We can dance this dance as many times as we wish because I won’t let her words or actions hurt me anymore.

My feet wobble as I make my way over to the couch. As soon as my body hits the couch, the tears flow from my face as the weight of my actions crashes down on me.

I’ll never escape this labyrinth. I’m stuck in a labyrinth that I made with my own desires. My home is my prison, and my heart is prisoner. I’m simply a vessel that carries my heart and emotions from place to place. 

This labyrinth has spiraled out of control, and it’s bigger than my relationship with SuA. My mind, my thoughts, my actions, and my words are my labyrinth. SuA’s just a pawn that my mind uses to reason with me. It’s sick and it’s twisted, but I can’t help but to want more of that sweet drug that my brain offers me. I don’t want to be here anymore, but I can’t escape my mind even if I leave SuA.

As my eyes close, one final thought enters my mind, and it’s the worst one yet.

I’ve done all of this thinking and contemplating. I know how I want to act, and I know what I should do next. I need to leave SuA, and I need to get help for whatever’s going on in my head. I just know that I can’t because I won’t remember a single thing that I’ve thought about in the morning, and I’ll continue running around my labyrinth like nothing is wrong.

Oh, tainted love

Tainted love

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Continuation of this.

Author’s Notes: This is short but it got things moving, I hope!

Content Warnings: lady whumpee, angel whumpee, fallen angel, vague religious undertones, captivity, shot with an arrow, beaten, tortured, cruelty, wing whump, set on fire, burning, mild gore I suppose?

----

“Mercy!” Seraphina sobs out before a gasp for breath. Her tearstained, pain-wracked face is turned up to the sky and it’s unclear whether she’s begging her captors or some higher power.

“Mercy, please!” she shrieks when one member of the small group that has gathered steps closer and twists the arrow lodged deep into her body. The body she only just discovered, barely spent any time in, before it learned to hurt.

“Mercy?” one man sneers. He spits at the angel’s feet. “Where was mercy when we were being slaughtered by demons?” He moves the other human’s hand away from the arrow and grabs it himself, shoving it in deeper. Seraphina shouts and struggles against the too-tight chains.

Another human stops him and she is given a moment of reprieve, though her side still rages with pain. She hardly knew what pain was, and now it’s all she knows.

While she catches her breath the humans continue talking. Their words kindle fear in her and for the first time she also feels sick.

“So we know it works…what now?”

“Now we need more of them. We’ll use this one as bait…” he examines one of the angel’s wings. “But first let’s make sure it isn’t getting away anytime soon.”

No sooner has that human stepped away than another charges towards her - a muscular woman whose fist slams into Seraphina’s stomach and knocks the breath from her anew. Seraphina lurches forward in the chains and coughs.

Before she can draw in a single breath there are more hands, more blows all over. Their pain is dull compared to the pang in her side but brutal in its own way. Soon she has not only bled for the first time but bruised as well.

The angel’s mouth is wide open in a soundless gasp. It isn’t long before she passes out from lack of air. The reprieve is short lived, though, because once the humans notice and stop, she comes to again. 

The man from before returns with a jug and orders the others to step back. They listen and watch as he douses the feathery wings in a putrid-smelling liquid. Seraphina’s head lolls back against the wall as her lungs struggle to take in air. She inhales the awful smell and coughs and gags until her throat is raw.

“Spare me,” she rasps. “You will be rewarded…” her eyes widen as the man lights a match. She has never felt the heat of a flame, but something in her knows to fear it. She starts to panic. “I can talk to the angels. I can ask them to help! Just let me go, I beg you.”

“We begged you,” the man growls. “For years we cried out and no one listened. It’s too late. We don’t want your help anymore, we don’t need it. All we want now is for angels to suffer as we have suffered.”

With that he lifts the flame to one soaked wing, then the other. They go up in an instant, a flash of heat and light that makes the crowd gasp and the man back away. Flames engulf the wings from the tips of the feathers to where they meet at Seraphina’s back. The angel thrashes in her restraints, screaming and begging until she inhales smoke and coughs herself ragged.

Seraphina is still awake long enough to feel the burn overtake the sensitive skin of her wings and then it is all too much. Within moments of waking she blacks out again. The flames gradually die down to a smolder, its glow lasting long into the night.

[haechanniesunflowers]

Mafia!Ateez reaction to s/o being abused by her family

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK domestic abuse, bruises, scars, toxic family behaviour, manipulation, torture, mentions of blood, smoking, murder, death

I'm so sorry if this made you uncomfortable, my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything

Requested by @racheloveyunho

It only gets darker and longer with the next member

Hongjoong

He came home early so you weren't prepared and were wearing a tanktop with shorts

He saw the bruises on your back and thighs

When he asked you about it later that day, you sobbed and told him that your brothers beat you because you insisted on moving in with Hongjoong

Would pretend that it didn't affect him but on the inside he's furious

He himself doesn't like to physically discipline anyone unless it is necessary or they get on his nerves and bring him to that point

How dare they lay a finger on you

He wouldn't change his behaviour with you, he'd be his usual caring self, all the while planning to knock some sense into your brothers

He laid a trap for your brothers to fall right into and met with them personally

He's a reasonable man so he started with talking to them but when they didn't listen and called him slurs he threatened to murder them

They knew Hongjoong was a part of a mafia and didn't want to anger him any further

They promised him that they would treat you better

Seonghwa

You told him you tripped and fell while you were packing your things to move in with him and that's how you got the bruise on your head and a busted lip

He bought it honestly because he's soft for you and couldn't see you like that so his focus was to get you the medical treatment you needed

You were happy with him and spent almost all of your time with him but he didn't want to hold you back form meeting your friends and family

You were ecstatic to meet your friends but not your family

They hurt you after all

So when he had someone drop you off to your family house, you were nervous but still went inside to meet them

What you got was taunts and verbal abuse

When you tried convincing them that Seonghwa was indeed very kind and loving towards you, they hit you so hard, you lost your balance and your back hit the glass corner of the table which you tried holding onto and ended up scratching your upper arm, drawing blood

You were shocked and hurt and ran out of the house

You hailed a taxi and went to your friend's house and told Seonghwa to pick you up from there

When he came home that night, you were already asleep

In the morning he woke up and found you in the kitchen at the brink of tears and you cheek was a little swollen and purplish

He asked you what happened but you said you liked hanging out with your friends yesterday and these were tears of joy and that your swollen cheek was because you ran into a glass wall

He believed you like always and wrapped his arms around you to pull you into an embrace and accidentally put pressure on the bruise on your back from yesterday

You yelped and arched your back

This time he didn't ask you but lifted your shirt to see for himself, despite your protests and was shocked to say the least

He made you feel comfortable enough to tell him that it was your family's doing

He reassured you that everything will be okay and that you could stay with him forever

That night he paid your family a visit after you went to sleep

They never contacted you again

Yunho

Your family was very religious and never really messed with you because Yunho made it very clear how protective he was towards you

Any bitter comment from your family would earn them a death glare from Yunho

He'd stare them down until they got super uncomfortable

Nobody knew what he was capable of, other than the fact that he was involved with a mafia

Your family wanted you to stay away from him but you loved him and he had promised to protect you and shield you from the mafia life

Yunho's girlfriend had no face, no one in the mafia world had ever seen you

One day you were visiting your family to celebrate your sister's birthday

You felt unwelcomed, you own blood was making you feel uncomfortable

When the guests had left and it was time to open the presents, your brother told you to go home

You were embarrassed but tried to reason with him that you guys were family

He started saying hurtful things and called you a slut and accused you of selling yourself to a dirty mafia rat who kills people for a living. He said you are nothing but his whore and he will replace you one day when he is tired of you and then you will have no one to turn to because they didn't consider you family anymore

You got up and went to the home. The home Yunho had made in the middle of a dense forest to hide you and came to see you almost every day

Yunho had decided to complete his work in advance today so he could spend more time with you in the next days, since you said you would be at your family house today

You unlocked the door and went in crying. You were wailing so hard that you laid on the floor in the lobby

You screamed when you felt someone grab you by your arms and made you sit up

Yunho looked at you in shock and worry, you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck and cried your heart out, not caring if you were being loud and looking like a mess

You didn't need to tell him what had happened because he was aware your family had something to do with this

You woke up in bed the next day, feeling numb but had a severe headache

You looked around the room and saw a shirtless Yunho starting outside the window, you called out to him "Yunho..."

"I don't want to know what they did or said. I'm never ever going to allow you to meet them again. It took everything I had in me to stop from murdering them because I don't want to hurt you, but I can't have anyone else hurting you either"

He turned around and looked furious, you had only once seen him this angry when a spy from another mafia broke into your house and tried to stab you. Yunho had ripped his jaw off of his face with his bare hands in front of you and you fainted from shock from the intensity of the situation

Right now he had the same look on his face and you didn't want to anger him any further

Yeosang

He had never been the one to talk a lot

His calm and collected nature made people underestimate him

Your family used to love Yeosang and were supportive of your relationship with him, they were happy when you moved in with him, but that was before they knew who he was

Only you knew that Yeosang was a cold blooded killer. He was his gang's ace, he was sharp, very intelligent and very manipulative, not to mention he was the second most strongest member and was very good with weapons, his speciality being butterfly knives. He killed people the bad guys and felt no remorse. His gang members often joke that he only feels two emotions, rage when the bad guys cause menace and love towards you.

He got you pregnant and you were now worried but Yeosang had reassured you that no one in this world will ever lay a finger on you as long as he is by your side. He made you feel safe and loved. He didn't trust anyone to help you around the house so he stayed home to help you.

One day your family came over to meet you and ask after you unannounced, you being 7 months pregnant, were home alone

They wanted to see your huge house, you were nervous because you didn't want them to see some rooms but couldn't keep up with them because you got tired from walking

Then the unthinkable happened, they saw everything. They saw Yeosang's training room, his collection of knives and bulletin boards with photos of people, nasty looking people. One board had two sets of photos of the same person, one photo was for Yeosang to know who to attack and the other photo of the same person killed by him. Yeosang never wanted you to see the contents of the room, let alone your family.

They told you to come with them and to leave Yeosang but you tried to tell them that you were more than okay and wanted to stay with him

It all happened too fast, your father grabbed you by your arm, dragged you outside and forced you to sit in the car while your mother pleaded to him to not shove you around like that in this state. They didn't drive home, they were fleeing the city to get as far away from Yeosang as possible

You were screaming, your parents paid no attention to you, they thought you were protesting but actually you were screaming because of the excruciating pain you were experiencing. You were bleeding and your mom had noticed it but they were on a highway and there was no hospital nearby. They couldn't do anything about it so they kept driving out of the city, your father hoping the child would die in your womb because he now hated Yeosang and wouldn't be able to love his child either.

You fainted and after 2 hours of driving, they got to a hospital. No one knew but you were carrying twins, sadly one of them had died in your womb while the other was born healthy. You were now fighting for your life. Your parents were scared for you and afraid of being tracked down by Yeosang.

You and your baby spent a month in the hospital and recovered enough for your parents take you with them

On the other side Yeosang was on the verge of a mental breakdown. He was out looking for you, now scared and confused and in rage. He didn't know who had taken you away and was frustrated and tired but he couldn't let you go. You were the love of his life and the only person in the world who ever loved him.

He got a lead on you and within hours was outside the house where your parents were hiding you.

He broke in the house in the middle of the night and found you crying on the bed with a sleeping child by your side. He instantly became soft at the sight, all the rage he had in him was replaced by love. He softly called to you and you whipped your head up and instantly ran to him.

You begged him not to harm your parents and he couldn't say no. He silently took you and his month old son back home in the dead of the night

San

San was not one person, he had two kinds of personalities, one was a ruthless assassin and the other, a passionate lover. Both personalities had him being manipulative in common

He absolutely hated your family because you were a free spirit and liked taking risks while they were the complete opposites and often tried holding you back but you always loved an adventure and that's how you ended up with Choi San.

You dispised your family the same as they did you. You were so used to the beating that you felt nothing now. Profanities were very common too and you wanted nothing but to slap each and every one of them and run away.

You were head over heals for him the moment he crossed paths with you but you didn't show that to him. He tried manipulating you into getting you to sleep with him but you knew better and brushed him off

He was used to women being on their knees for him so you not doing that was a challenge for him and he was hell bent on getting you to like him

He was going crazy over you and started meeting you at your workplace during his missions, like he had to kill a man in 30 minutes but he just had to see you first

When you weren't giving in to his art of seduction, he tried a different way

He asked you out like a decent human being and you said yes, wow that was easy, right?

No, you made him work hard for your love and affection and he was obsessed with making you happy to feel loved by you and by the time San realized what was going on, it was too late

He was madly in love with you and practically drooling over you

He finally asked you to move in with him and you said yes even though you knew your family would disapprove. You went home and packed your stuff and tried to leave but your family members didn't let you leave and in an effort of saving you from inevitable destruction which was Choi San, they beat you to the point you passed out.

They texted San from your phone, pretending to be you and told him to stay away and leave you alone, that you wanted nothing to do with him.

San was confused and scared when he got that text from you and texted you back to take your time and rethink your decision.

You woke up in your room at some point during the night, unable to open one eye because it had been bruised badly. Your head was bleeding and the blood had dried on your face. You left leg hurt a lot because of you lying in an unnatural position. You didn't have your phone or anything else

You felt empty and all you wanted was to be in San's loving embrace

It was now or never

You escaped from your window and somehow managed to get to San's front door, it was almost morning

You knocked on his door and called for him

He opened the door after some time and took in your form

He was in too much rage but he had to tend to you first

A few weeks later he came home and told you that he made sure your family is now in another city far away from you and won't contact you again

A tear slipped down your face, you were free from their torment

You kissed San and thanked him

He would do anything to make you happy

Mingi

Mingi was the notorious mafia leader who has connections with the government and the dark world

He had money and fame (the good and bad kind) and all that was missing was love and you filled that void

He loved you too much and would never let anyone hurt you

People knew better

So your own family, your own blood hurting you for wanting to live with Mingi didn't sit well with him

He was distracted at work and all he could see was your face, your tear filled eyes, your bruised arm and your distraught state

He wished he had sent someone to get you from your family house sooner so you didn't have to go through the abuse

He wished you never told them about it and just moved in with him

You were in his home, resting in his bed, thinking about what had happened

Did they really didn't see any good in Mingi?

Did they really have to hit you?

Did you do the right thing?

These thoughts flooded your mind and you were just as distracted

Mingi came home in a hurry and told you to come with him

You asked him where you guys are going and he says we're going to get back at them

He took you to your house and barged right in, unannounced

Seeing Mingi in person was overwhelming and your family were scared, pleading to him to let them go

Mingi told them that he was going to kill them for hurting you and there was panic and chaos

You came to stand next to him, squeezed his hand and softly told him that you want to go home

He couldn't say no to you so he warned them that this isn't over and took you home

You talked to Mingi and convinced him to let them go because they were your family after all

He's the one who said that if the loved toy and cared for you, they wouldn't hurt you like this and family doesn't mean you have to tolerate this kind I'd behavior when you're old enough to make decisions for yourself

You kissed him and wondered why couldn't your family see the good in him

Wooyoung

It started off with you slowly telling your folks about what Wooyoung did for a living

You were smart, so you didn't tell them about his business until you moved in with him otherwise they would have disapproved

You didn't mention that he tortured people and killed them without remorse, no, you said that he works with an organization that eliminates evil people which was true in essence

Your family was having none of it

They wanted you as far away from him as possible

You loved him and he loved you but they didn't believe it

They kept you from leaving the house and since Wooyoung was away for some time on a mission he didn't know

It was only when he got home that he found out that you hadn't returned, but he didn't think much of it because you were with your family

You on the other hand were panicking not only because you were being forced to stay away from Wooyoung but also because you just found out that you were pregnant

You had to get back to him no matter what

You refused to eat or talk to your family members, only demanding to meet Wooyoung

When he didn't get any message from you he began to get suspicious

He sent someone disguised as a delivery boy over to your house to check up on you and got word that you were sick and locked in your room

He got up and drove to your house in the middle of the night and broke through the front door. He didn't care who got in his way and pushed and punched whoever protested

He got to your room and demanded that you open it

You did and jumped at him, told him you were pregnant and they were keeping you from going back to him and cried

He took you in his arms and was taking you back with him

Your father threatened to call the police and Wooyoung simply said "say hi to chief inspector Jeon from me" leaving the father shocked

You were happy to be back with your lover and were excited about the baby, the same as Wooyoung

Jongho

Probably the strongest man in the whole mafia world

Everyone feared him

He didn't have to say twice for what he wanted because people had heard how he smashed someone's skull open with his bare fists

He had asked you to move in with him and you happily said yes

But when you told your family about your decision they asked you if you were crazy

You didn't listen to them and started packing

They weren't going to let you go to some barbarian

But you weren't listening so they had to do it the hard way

Deep down you were happy to leave because your family had always been abusive and toxic

When you were asked to leave with your suitcases your father grabbed you by your arm and shoved you against the wall

"you bitch, you really think you can disobey me?"

Your mother held you by your hair and slapped you so hard your nose started bleeding

They beat you severely and you had stopped screaming at this point

You thought you were going to die when they left you like this on the kitchen floor

You don't know what got into you but you got on your feet and ran out the front door where you were stopped by Jongho waiting for you beside his car

He saw you and gently pushed you aside and went straight inside the house

He came out after almost 20 minutes, blood splattered on his face and clothes

You were already in shock from the beating that you didn't question him

He got in the car with you, held your face in his hands and said "don't worry, I called an ambulance for them, they just might be okay"

With that your heart sank but you were too shaken to feel sad for them so you just cried

Jongho took you home

[totiredtowrite]

Nonononono hear me out right? Imagine Oikawa, one of the most powerful demons around, snags a reader who wants to be a hero and just kind of says 'aight this ones mine now'

Powerless

Warnings - Mentions of killing, the word blade, a religious joke here or there, cursing, referenced nsfw, the req was short but I managed to make this long af, sorry if the ending is trash :(, might do a part 2

Note: I have one mood and this is it

Male Reader - Fem Readers DNI, Respect The Boundaries of the Writers. ✨This isn't about you✨

Demon King Oikawa Tooru.

Infamous for a...multitude of things. For one, his power. Two, the astounding number of people who lust after him. Cults and chapels have been erected in his favour, solely because of his attraction. Nobodies even sure if he's a demon of lust at this point, or if he's just naturally handsome.

And lastly, of course, his ego. His power gives him a big head, though that isn't undeserved. He's just as cocky as he's allowed to be. While it may seem like overkill to some people, they'll quickly find that all of his self conceit is well earned.

Of course, that makes him a big target. Any heroes career would be made if they could kill the demon king. Hell, some get publicity just by returning alive. Young, naive, aspiring heroes want to get his head on a platter more than anything.

And, of course, you were no exception.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ 🃑 ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I just don't think you're cut out for this, son."

At first you'd scoffed. Chalked it up to your mentor being crazy. After all, he was the one who trained you for this!

Nearing the end of the dead forest though, you were starting to wish that you'd listened to him. The energy, the atmosphere, felt like it was wrapping around your neck. You could almost see the dark tendrils around your throat.

The whispers of the forest- prominent, though unintelligible- faded the farther you got from the tree line. Anyone with eyes, ears, or even a nose could tell how corrupt the land was here. Dead birds, ravens to be exact, littered the grounds. Every few yards, you had to step over or around a carcass.

Your torch, near burnt out, clattered to the ground.

There wasn't any need for it anymore, the dim sunset illuminating the deathly area. A small shudder tore through your body. It's like you could feel eyes on you, even in the obviously vacated expanse.

The castle wasn't any better.

Cracked and broken cobblestone lined the pathway up to the doors, travelling up a rather steep hill. From where you stood, you could see the different layers. True to it's unholy resident, the castle was make of dark brick and stone. Sharp, jagged pillars jutted up at the tips of towers, pyres in small heaps littering the area. Some looked as if they were already burnt.

Your hand drifted to your side. There your sword hung, sheathed tightly in a leather casing. The sword was all you really needed, though a couple extra daggers and limited magic items were helpful. After all, it was the demon king. Just a sword wasn't going to kill him off.

You smiled at the thought of your sword being framed when you became a well-known hero, famous for being the blade to deliver the finishing blow.

Those thoughts were quickly disrupted as a bird fell to the ground at your feet.

You grimaced, gently kicking the corpse out of the way and continuing on the rocky cobblestone path. There hasn't been any sign of people for the last two miles. You knew that there was an immensely powerful demon king not even twenty minutes away from you, but it felt like there was nobody for miles on end.

Obviously though, no sane person would get as close to this place as you were.

With one final, (and tentative) step, you arrived at the front door. It felt like any and all sound was swallowed by the walls, all of your senses instantly on edge. Nothing felt right here. It almost made you want to turn around, but you've already made it this far. It would make no sense.

Drawing in another shaky breath, your hand made its way to the door handle. Not much skin touched it through your gloves, yet you could just sense how wrong it felt.

You could only hope that the next time you see these doors, you'd still have your head.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ 🃑 ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nobody told Oikawa that being the demon king would be so...boring.

As opposed to what everyone thinks, it's actually rather monotonous. Wake up, go seduce some townspeople, maybe burn a village or two, kill some heroes who come by, and repeat. Nothing happened that he didn't expect anymore.

Hell, it's gotten to the point where he just smites heroes before they even finish their little speech!

In his defense though, their speeches were starting to sound the same. All the "you are an ungodly creature of darkness"s and "I must avenge my family"s just felt the exact same. They only wanted to kill him for the publicity, the bounty, or some stupid thing about their families legacy. He's so bored.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, (thank god), by the sound of footsteps pounding on the floor. All at once the door to the throne room swung open, a sweating and panting Kuroo standing there. His black hair was wind tousled, sweat glinting on his forehead.

"Wow," Oikawa scoffed. "Somethings got you running."

Kuroo stood up straight, shrugging and attempting to appear collected. "What do you mean?"

Oikawa raised his brows.

"Right, there's a hero in the castle." Kuroo chuckled awkwardly. "Want us to take care of him?"

Oikawa perked up. Another hero? Really? He wasn't looking forward to doing the same dance again, though maybe this time it would be slightly different. "Let him in," he grinned. "Maybe this one will have something for me." He was never one to turn down opportunity.

Kuroo, plagued by a bit of disbelief, nodded and left the throne room. Presumably it was to tell the fox twins.

Another wicked smile split the Demon King's face, brown hair shifting as he tilted his head to the side. Somehow, he got the feeling that this time, something interesting would happen.

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You figured that the castle would be partly deserted, but this was just weird.

No sign of any living beings. Demons, animals, humans, nothing. Was it an ambush? Quite possibly. Still though, you continued on through the halls.

The inside, just like the outside, was made of dark stone and brick. The floors were marbled and grey, veins of gold running through it. It was actually relatively pretty. You thought that there would be skulls and bones everywhere, bodies even. The castle was well taken care of.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Seriously, there was no one. You thought that the all powerful Demon King would at least have some guards stationed around. You were grateful for it though, the lack of protection making it easier for you to get into the castle.

In truth you weren't exactly sure where you were headed. You believed the demon king to be in his throne room, though where exactly that was remained a mystery.

Using your limited knowledge of how castles are built, you slowly tried to make your way to the center of the castle. The back center, specifically. You hoped that you'd find the throne room there, plus you were following the remnants of magic.

Even not being a magic user yourself, it would be hard not to feel the weird fluctuations of energy in these halls. Demons always left some kind of trail behind. Which, of course, made this weirder. Nobody was stopping you, but it was clear that there were being in the castle aside from the king himself.

A thought struck you as you reached two huge double doors. (They no doubt led to the throne room). Was it possible that the demons were letting you get this close? Of course, there had to be some kind of second meaning behind it, right?

Drawing in a breath, you flung the doors open.

The throne room was different than the rest of the castle, if only slightly. Grey marble and gold veins staying the same of course, the walls slightly lighter than before. If you had the time to look closely, you'd notice the oxidized bloodstains on the walls.

"Well well, look who's finally showed up!"

Your breath hitched in your throat, barely registering the door creaking closed behind you the moment you stepped forward. He was just as...no, more terrifying up close. The horns jutting out from the sides of his head, twisted upward, held a muted purple colour that shined in the equally muted light. His tone of voice was teasing, almost whiny.

You couldn't tell if his eyes were brown or red, but either way they glowed dangerously. "Well, boy?" He tilted his head, soft brown hair bouncing slightly. "You are here to kill me...aren't you?" His tone shifted. Deeper, more serious.

Your hand quickly made its way to your sword, eyes darting from his horns to his eyes.

He laughed. "Why do you keep looking at my horns like that? You are here for my head, are you not?" You wanted to nod, though he spoke before you could get an answer out.

"Wait a minute. You're here for something more...carnal, aren't you?"

Your eyes widened. "What- no! I'm here for your head!" Your grip on the swords hilt tightened. The rumors about his looks were true, (maybe even understating them), however that is not what you're here to do.

The teasing smirk dropped off of his face. "Oh. Lame."

Your brows knitted together. "Lame?" What was that supposed to mean?

"Oh nothing," he rolled his eyes. "So if you're going to deliver a speech, best do it now. Before I, you know, kill you real bad."

You only looked more confused.

Oikawa scoffed at your lack of response. "Jeez, come on, you know what a soliloquy is right?"

"Well yes but I don't think that really applies here-"

"Tomato whatever, get on with it!" He'd turned around, hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

Your breath stopped short for a second.

"Oh come one," his face moved closer. "Is a little proximity all it takes for you to freeze up? Maybe you aren't cut out to be a hero, boy," he snickered. His nose was brushing yours, breath minty and cold.

Without thinking, your sword was at his side in a flash of silver. Maybe it was just out of reflex, the need to defend yourself. The blank, shocked look on your face morphing into one of confusion. Why wasn't your sword moving further? "Was that the best you could do?" The king whispered.

Looking down, you realize just why he was so revered. He'd caught the blade in his hand, a trickle of black blood visible on his palm. No grimace, no noise of pain, nothing. "Hey, eyes up here sweetheart," one of his clawed hands was on your chin now. The wound, one that would cut almost anyone's hand off, didn't seem to throw him off his rhythm at all.

Horror and realization befell you as your eyes met his. You weren't ready. You didn't know what to do, except relax and let instinct take over. So that's what you did.

You let the sword fall out of your hand, causing him to have to catch it at an awkward angle. Using his moment of distraction, you reached into a bag at your hip. Sand. Sure, he was a demon, though it's not like his eyes were impervious to sand.

The dust hit him in the eyes, a startled, strangled noise leaving him. You turned, darting to the only open window as fast as possible. Jumping was not a good idea by any means, though maybe you could use the little magic you knew to your own advantage. You hesitated. You didn't mean to, but really it was just in your nature to be a little cautious.

Oikawa's eyes cleared just in time to see you fall out the window, hands darting back and forth and lips moving. Magic. "You clever little thing," he snarled, at the window in only a few seconds flat. He almost jumped out after you, but then he stopped. Sure he could follow you, but what would be the point? It makes more sense to simply leave you to come back on your own.

"Hey!"

You didn't look back at the sound of his voice, though you did catch the next words to fall from his mouth. "The names Tooru, by the way!"

You didn't say a word, focused on the cold burn of your heart pounding and your legs moving. You'd failed far faster than you thought you would, but you'd be back. You didn't even bother to step around the birds, only focused on getting out. After all, he'd let you leave. There wasn't any way you were taking that for granted.

Back at the castle, Oikawa's hands were still gripping the window's edge. He'd watched your form run until he could hardly see you, still gazing off in that direction. The twins were hovering behind him, wondering when the right time would be to speak. The bloodied sword on the ground, (and the grains of sand), were clear signs that you'd done something.

After elbowing one another for a minute, Osamu spoke up. "Would you like us to take care of it, Lord?" He pushed Atsumu back in an attempt to seem more dignified.

They got silence for a second before he responded. "No. That one is mine. Leave him be." The twins nodded in unison, leaving the room like they were never there.

You didn't do much. There were other heroes who'd done far more to him then you had, though still, something stuck with him. Maybe it was the utterly useless conversation you'd shared before anything actually happened. Maybe it was the vague potential he saw.

In any case, he was going to see you once more. Somewhere you'd least expect him.

Oikawa never was fond of leaving unfinished business.

[pingutats]

be this close, forever and ever

you and harry have been together for a while. your nights at home are quiet and comfortable, and, well, you’re both just so in love.

warnings: sexual content (soft giggly sex), mostly fluff

word count: 2.5k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Living with Harry, the two of you start to fall into the same rhythm. It’s not easy with his schedule as chaotic as it often is and your lives so profoundly different, but the nights when he’s home are the quiet sanctuary you need from all of those stresses. His little rituals seep into your own. The evenings are for being together, enjoying each other’s company without distraction or pressure. It’s just you and him, and the routine you’ve constructed so delicately together.

It starts with a face mask. Just because he’s so famous, he receives packages from different companies hoping for endorsements. He doesn’t really do those but he keeps the boxes anyway and most nights the two of you pick out one to try. He reads through the ingredients while you wait for the prescribed fifteen minutes to pass: pumpkin extract, baobab oil, a white flower extract.

“Which white flower?” Harry asks, looking up at you. 

His mask is wrinkled between his brows where he’s frowning and you reach up to smooth it out again, your hands coming away sticky. You wipe them on his sweatpants, which just makes him frown again. “Dunno,” you say, “but it must be a pretty powerful flower if it—” you snatch the packet out of his hand “—de-puffs, hydrates, and brightens our skin.” You scan the printed text for a moment. “I think this one’s supposed to be used in the morning.”

“Oh, fuck. The moon’s out. Was this all for nothing?”

After peeling off the masks carefully in the bathroom, you coo over each other’s soft skin ridiculously and move back into the living room for the next unspoken event of your night. Harry is borderline religious about meditating, somehow possessing the discipline to do it for twenty minutes day and night. You aren’t like him, but sometimes you join in. It is good for you, after all.

The two of you sit on the carpet, legs crossed and backs straight, side by side and within arms reach. The itch to reach out and touch him or lean over to put your head on his shoulder is strong, but you know it annoys him when you do that. He is so serious about it — “It doesn’t work if you keep poking me, the point is to be completely focused” — and even if you’ve never reached his fanaticism about the practise, you respect it so you keep your distance. Two minutes in, though, you’re starting to get bored. He can meditate for ages: twenty minutes is his standard, and you simply don’t have it in you to sit still for that long. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, you uncross your legs and stand up, padding across the soft carpet into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

When the soft alarm he’s set on his phone rings and brings him back to reality, he blinks open his eyes to see you in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. It’s the tea he buys especially to have before bed, something a friend recommended to relax him. You aren’t sure if it really does anything, but it tastes good so you always have a cup too. When you think about it, you do almost always have a good sleep the nights that you drink it. Those nights are the ones you’re sleeping with Harry, though, so maybe it isn’t the tea. You set the mugs on the table nearby. 

“Thank you, love,” he says softly. He reaches to take hold of your hand and then suddenly drags you down to the floor, a tangle of limbs as you collapse on top of him. 

You giggle and then shriek as his fingers find the ticklish spot along your ribs. “Harry! Get off!”

His attack ceases very quickly when you accidentally elbow him in the stomach in your attempts to escape.

“Sorry, H.”

“’S alright. Probably deserved it.”

“You did.”

But he’s mostly quiet in the evenings — doesn’t like to talk too much as he decompresses from the busy-ness of his days, so he shows his affection more through his actions. As the two of you sip your tea (still on the floor, because with the plushy carpet he has it’s just as comfortable down here as on the couch) he reaches out to drum his fingers over your knee while he tries to remember all the things he needs to do tomorrow. He’s always written himself to-do lists and he got you hooked on them too. You were sceptical at first, but they do make life easier. The little thrill of ticking off boxes in your black notebook with your initials monogrammed on the bottom right corner (Harry’s gift) is a bonus. He’s less driven by those superficial rewards, so he chooses to keep his on his laptop, which is rose gold. His hand leaves you only to type the next line of his to-do list, then he’s back to tracing patterns over the fabric of your borrowed sweatpants. He emails the list to himself when he’s finished. You’ve always found that funny, and you tease him for being grandpa-ish, but it’s just another one of his eccentricities that makes him more endearing.

You probably wear his clothes just as much as you wear your own. He loves seeing you in his stuff. He’s practically throwing t-shirts at you as soon as you walk into the house. He’ll take your stuff, too, sometimes. Dating Harry comes with an unspoken agreement to merge your wardrobes. There are a couple of pieces — a hoodie or two, sweatpants that are too big for either of you, a pair of extremely fluffy socks — that have been passed between you for so long that you can barely remember who owned them first. The sweatpants you’re wearing right now (paired with just a sports bra) are his. The old band tee he has on is yours.

He carries the empty mugs back to the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher while you finish the last of your planning. There’s no discussion around it, just like no one asked you to make the tea in the first place. The two of you just now how to work together now, with all the times you’ve practised this routine. Sometimes it’s him who makes the tea, sometimes you finish your list first, but you never really have to talk. Harry usually picks out an album to play in the background over these moments, and that’s the only thing you need to listen to. It’s good. It makes you feel more connected to him, like you understand each other on a deeper level than just being able to talk.  You know Harry like the back of your hand. He knows you almost as well as you know yourself. It’s a quiet kind of euphoria, to love and be loved back. You don’t need the fanfares and the grandiose displays. You just need each other.

Later, you pull faces at each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth, bumping hips as you giggle around your toothbrushes. He’s finished in the bathroom before you are, so he lies in bed  in just his boxers and watches you through the open doorway while you do your last couple of skincare and hair rituals. Satisfied, you switch the bathroom light off and enter the bedroom that you share, decorated with framed artworks you both chose, a bedspread that you picked out together. You quickly change into just a long loose shirt, then collapse into bed with him and crawl under the covers, his greedy arms pulling you to nestle into his side while he presses a kiss to your forehead. He likes to read before he sleeps, but you aren’t in the mood for that. You shuffle down until your head is at his chest and you throw your arm and leg over him, letting him rest his paperback against your bare thigh while he reads with you wrapped around him.

After a couple of minutes of just the sound of pages turning and your soft breaths, you start to sponge kisses over his bare chest. He ignores you at first, but you hear his breathing stutter as you move up to his collarbone.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” he murmurs. “Just a couple pages left.” His eyes don’t leave the page, but he gropes around until he finds your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them before he lets your intertwined hands drop.

You don’t reply. You pull your hand out of his loose grasp and run your fingertips up the subtly defined lines of his abs, softened by the way he’s sitting. You trace the wings of the butterfly tattooed over his stomach, then draw a constellation between his four nipples — he chuckles and pulls your hand away, holding it tighter this time.

“Baby,” he says, a little firmer this time.

You kiss his shoulder again.

He sighs, closing the book (he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page until it’s fully closed and you almost feel bad for distracting him until —

He throws the book on the nightstand and reaches over your body to plant his hand on the mattress, pushing himself up so he’s hovering above you. “You’re a pest,” he says, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. 

You giggle and bite your lip, wrapping one leg around his hip and pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me?”

He obliges, pressing his lips against yours. “That all you wanted?” His tone is slightly teasing. He’s always liked to see you squirm.

You shake your head, wrapping your other leg around him. You can feel the bulge underneath his boxers against your crotch and it sets a fire in your core. You thread a hand into his hair and pull him down to kiss him again, less chastely this time. You roll your hips against him, just slightly, and smile against his kiss when you feel him twitch.

He breaks away from the kiss and smears his lips over your cheekbone to your ear. “Tell me, angel, tell me what you want you want and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers.

You barely contain a whimper at how deep his voice has gotten. “Fuck me,” you say, gasping as he starts to place hot openmouthed kisses down your neck. When you first slept together, you were too embarrassed to ask him so openly. You don’t get embarrassed around him anymore. “Harry, please fuck me.”

He pulls back suddenly, smiling down at you. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Harry!”

He’s laughing as he pulls his boxers down to free his cock, but his giggles fade into a low moan as he takes hold of himself and strokes a couple times. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes into you with one fluid motion, making your eyes roll back. He fills you so perfectly. Every single time he’s in you is better than the last, it never gets old — there’s no feeling that’s as good as how he feels. Sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes he’s brutal in how he fucks you, or passionate and needy, or the both of you get caught up in the roles you make up to play, but you treasure the times like this. The times where he’s on top of you, face-to-face, alternating between kisses and whispers and little giggles — this is where you feel the most love for Harry.

He takes his time, in no hurry to end this moment. The pace he sets is slow but he reaches deep into you on each thrust, his breath coming out increasingly ragged every time he buries himself to the hilt. You have your hands in his hair and splayed across his back — he has one clutching the pillow beside your head to hold himself up, the other roaming over your chest. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do with his mouth: he’ll kiss your lips, then along your jaw, down your neck, then back up to your ear where he whispers all the sweet little nothings he can think of.

“So pretty, baby, love you so much, taking me so well, always my good girl, my best girl, my girl, always feel so good…” He chants it like a prayer, his words taking on a firmer tone each time he thrusts in, starting to pick up the pace a bit. “Touch yourself for me, darling, want to see you cum underneath me.”

You moan and reach down between your legs, rubbing little circles around your clit while he starts to fuck you at a faster pace. “Feels so good, Harry,” you say, your words choked slightly by the intensity of what you’re feeling right now.

“I know it does,” he replies, kissing you again, swallowing your moans. That edge of cockiness, the way he knows how to take care of you, when you just need his mouth on you and he can’t keep off you — you love all these little traits. You love him. And he loves you. That’s maybe the feeling to triumph over all the others.

“I’m close, I’m close,” you chant, the hand on his back digging fingernail marks into his skin as the warm feeling in your core rises, threatening to explode.

He thrusts into you faster, his rhythm growing slightly sloppy. “Yeah? Let go for me, baby, let go, I’m right behind you.”

You cum, legs shaking around him and brows pinched as you stare up at him, while he watches you cum undone with an intensity behind his gaze that wasn’t there before. You say his name, over and over, trying to put all you want to say into just that one word. You hope it’s enough. You think it is. He gets you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says, words cut off by a pant, as you feel the aftershocks of your own orgasm and the growing over-sensitivity. “You feel so good, baby, gonna cum so hard…”

You feel him spill into you as he cries out, his body collapsing over yours so his entire body is pressed against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair until he starts to come down from his high and rolls off you, his cock slipping out and you hiss at the slight friction.

“God…” he murmurs into the air. “That was so good.”

You giggle, twisting around and propping your head up with your hand so you can look down at him. “You say that every time.”

“It’s good every fucking time,” he says, a smile spreading across his face.

You poke his dimple and he tries to catch your finger with his mouth, biting the air playfully, but you pull it away. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He pouts for a second, but then his features soften. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drop your head back down to the pillow, watching him stretch his arm out to turn off his bedside lamp. After a couple of swats at the switch, he finally manages it, and brings the same arm back over to drape over your body. It’s totally dark now. “Love you so much,” he tells you, kisses your forehead.

“Love you more. Goodnight, H. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, angel. Sleep well.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

hope you enjoyed -- let me know if u did, i like reading ur replies/tags !! i rlly loved writing this fic, it’s just so domestic and sweet and happy. the meditating and the to-do list (including the emailing !! ) is from the real harry. 

btw !! my ask box is open for requests & general chatter, so come say hi :D

[cdroloisms]

TW; Death mentioned

I had this thought, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame and remember in the beginning where the Gypsy mother ran to the church and claimed sanctuary, but she died on the church steps

What if c!Dream either was let out of the prison or escaped and c!sam chased him down (for whatever reason you want) and Dream runs to church prime in the Holy Land, claiming sanctuary, and maybe Sam accidentally kills Dream on that land in front of the church

this was a FUN ask, anon, sorry it took so long for me to get to it

tw: DEATH, DEREALIZATION, religious themes, blood, grief, vomit, murder, violence, implied torture/abuse, dark themes, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault

To be honest, when George opens his eyes, he has no idea if he’s awake or not.

This has become an...alarmingly common occurrence. He’d been bothered by it at the beginning, had spent hours stuck in his own head, dropping and picking up items, counting forwards and backwards, seeking any sign possible that what he was looking at was real and not just a figment of his own dreams. In the end, it’d all been for nothing; he would be 100% sure in reality, that what he was looking at was the real world, only for it to dissolve into shadow and himself back to lying on that same bed in the middle of nowhere that he’d never remembered lying down in. At some point, he must’ve just...given up. It’s not like the dreams were unpleasant; they were the exact opposite, most of the time. Unlike that one reality-bending fit of wakefulness that had ended in him boxed in by lava in the middle of a chamber of red, one that wasn’t a dream, surprisingly enough, his dreams are usually just- normal. He goes to his field, harvests some wheat. Talks to Quackity and Sapnap and Karl, though he’s almost certain he’s not talked to any of the three in a long time in the waking world. Sometimes, he’ll even be visited by a god wearing Dream’s face, XD, though sometimes XD is there in the real world, too, so they’re hardly a determining factor. If he’s really lucky, in the dreams, he’ll even see Dream.

Dream, as he remembers him, not as the monster he’s been told he became. Once, the dream had even dropped in the flustered, confused form of Dream from the beginning of the server, all fluffed up hair and boyish joy. Usually, he’ll see a Dream that’s been let out the prison, hale and whole and sheepish, stuttering through brief apologies and hugging him in that overeager way that makes his ribs ache and then the three of them, for the lack of better words, prance off into the sunset without a worry in their minds.

And then he wakes up.

George rubs at his eyes, looks up at the sky to reorient himself; it looks real. It feels real. The sun is warm on his skin, the grass still wet with dew from the morning, brushing against his ankles as he stands up. He’s in the area behind Punz’s house, his walls and towers looming in front of him, and George blows a breath through his teeth as he goes towards the direction of the Prime Path. There’s no knowing if this is a dream or reality, but either way, standing in one place does nothing for him. Better to get the rest of the day over with than to waste it here.

He’s not even halfway to the Prime Path when sirens sound on the horizon, giving him pause. That’s never happened before. They’re loud, and shrill, and something niggles at the back of his head in a vague sense of familiarity, begging for him to understand and take note. He frowns, and picks up the pace- if he gets on the Path, he might get a better idea of what’s going on. At the very least, if there’s something dangerous, his best bet is the Holy Land.

Surprisingly enough, when he gets there, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only the consistent drone of sirens on the horizon. George strains his eyes along both sides of the path; nobody comes, or speaks, or makes their presence known. There’s only George, alone. It’s strangely eerie.

Is this a dream? he considers briefly, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter.

It’s another several minutes before anything changes. He stands there, at the edge of the Holy Land, until he hears a faint clamor that draws his attention, prompts him to edge forward along the path. The sound, starting faint, quickly swells in volume, underscored by the hum of the siren still ringing in the distance.

First come the shouts, overlapping, too muffled for George to quite pick the words out between the sounds. Then come the footsteps, low and rumbling, making the path creak and shudder. Then-

“Get him!”

George watches, eyes wide behind his goggles, as a dull orange blur reaches the crest of the hill and stumbles down it in a dead sprint, not paying him a second glance as they swing under the arched entrance to the Holy Land to enter within it. They collapse into a heap on the quartz steps- and oh, that’s blood seeping out of them, staining the white red, their hands tight on the stairs as a shivering string of sounds leave their crimson-speckled lips. Their face turns towards him, unseeing, and George feels something splinter, irreparably, in his chest, because that’s Dream.

He’s dreamed about Dream a lot, but never like this. Never injured, like this, face hollow and haunted, scars splitting his skin into shards. The wheezes in his dreams had always been from laughter, not this seething, spitting rattle that emerges from his chest, worryingly wet and irregular. He’s collapsed on the bottom steps of Church Prime, legs bent strangely in a way that must be uncomfortable against the ground, arms resting against the edges of the stairs, all skin and bone and still-bleeding cuts, and he looks like he’ll never be able to stand up again.

“Please, please, pl-please,” he stutters through his sobs, meaningless begs and platitudes falling on George’s ears and making him cringe back at the sound, “please-” and George doesn’t quite know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know what has left his friend in a ruin on the ground, leaving bloodstains on the stone, but the words worm under his skin and into his skull and refuse to leave. Footsteps continue to pound on the path behind him; George turns around, gasps at the sight of two figures, fully in enchanted netherite, thundering over the wood and into the Holy Land.

“What-”

“There!” The voice is rough but familiar, and the figures dash over to where Dream is lying, defenseless. His pleads rise in pitch and volume, becoming almost unbearable to listen to, and there’s an angry clamor of voices and an awful, wet crack and a shrill scream-

Silence.

“Holy fuck-” George’s head is spinning, the voice finally registering- that’s Quackity, stance wide, a sword in his hand. Beside him, tall and imposing, stands Sam, his full set of Warden armor shining brilliantly under the still-rising sun. His hands are wrapped around his trident, gleaming cyan, the end speared straight through Dream’s chest.

“You killed him,” Quackity hisses, head raising and only then meeting George’s eyes. “Sam- what are we going to- you killed him.”

“I-” Sam shakes his head. “I had to, he was going to get away-”

“Sam-” Quackity’s voice pitches higher, more desperate, “Sam, did you- oh fuck, we’re in the Holy Land-”

The air shatters.

That, at least, seems to be the only way to describe what happens; George watches, breathless, as the air shimmers and warps unnaturally, the way his dreams do right before he wakes up, only centralized in the Church entrance instead of surrounding him on all sides. Blood continues to run down the stairs, stark against the pure white of the quartz, so dark it almost seems black. The ripple clarifies, deepens; there’s a sound like ripping fabric, and something carves a tear through what seems to be existence itself. Behind, there’s a starless void, alluring, wanting, calling, dark and deep and everlasting and the End this is The End-

A whirl of white and green and gold, and the tear is gone, leaving something entirely other in its wake. George shivers in his place; he thought that he’s seen XD angry, before, remembers vividly the feeling of being chased, the God’s voice calling after him as he shut the doors of Punz’s house behind him. He remembers the way their voice had glitched, growing deeper and distorted, the rage with which they had growled at him when they thought they were being used.

That all pales in comparison to this. That was all nothing compared to this.

“YOU-” the deity booms, voice echoing and crackling and rolling like thunder and cracking ice and the roar of the ocean on the sand, making George clamp his hands to his ears in vain. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

George remembers being uncomfortable, back then, at how inhuman XD had seemed. Their jokes, gory and violent and startling, their idea of a prank being playing with people like dolls subject to their whims. It had taken him a while to really seem to get the God and for the God to understand him in turn, a while for him to understand that ignorance did not mean malice, that even a God that had never once known mortality could be so startlingly human. Here, their wings spread over them, seeming large enough to block out the sun, something dark and writhing behind the mask they wear, a sourceless wind howling around their robes and battering against the walls with aimless fury, George is reminded by how powerful they really are. That they are still eldritch, still a God, that they will not hesitate to judge those below him, the ones that they stare at, now, helpless and mortal and trapped within their gaze.

Sam stumbles back on the church steps, grip loosening on his trident. It continues to stick up out of Dream’s unmoving body, splattered with blood halfway up the handle.

“Oh no-” he hisses, and Quackity backs away with him, “no, no no I didn’t want to kill him,”

“THIS DOMAIN IS MINE.” Anyone else and it might’ve sounded petulant, childish. Here, with the deity’s fury directed on the two of them, even on the sidelines all George can feel is terror. “YOU HAVE TAKEN A LIFE UNDER MY PROTECTION, MORTALS.”

“Sam,” Quackity’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Sam, we gotta- we gotta run-”

“WHERE WILL YOU GO, LITTLE MORTAL?” XD disappears, then flashes back into existence at the Holy Land entrance, making Quackity and Sam shriek with their escape route blocked. “YOU HAVE ABUSED THE AUTHORITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND DESTROYED WHAT WAS NOT YOURS TO BREAK. YOU HAVE PURSUED POWER BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND OUTSIDE YOUR POSSESSION. YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, MY REALM. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU SHALL LEAVE UNPUNISHED?”

“XD,” Sam shouts, and thunder cracks overhead.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE,” XD rumbles, their words final, and in the end, just as every other time, all George can do when the world ends is watch. Lightning spears to the ground, striking both Sam and Quackity with twin flashes of brilliant white, striking from a clear blue sky. The air sparks from the power, charged with static electricity and making George’s hair stand on end; thunder claps, seems to shatter the world into two as they disappear in twin shrieks and the smell of burned flesh. Just as quick as it happens, it ends, and George is once again left alone in the Holy Land, vomit clawing up his throat and tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he dry-heaves into the grass.

“XD,” he more begs than says, eyes fixed on Dream, still lying too-still on the church stairs. The deity turns to him, their face strangely blank. “XD, please- please tell me this is a dream.”

“Would that make you happy, George?” the god replies, and George sobs, face collapsing into his hands.

“Please, XD, please tell me- please tell me this isn’t real, please-”

“I don’t understand, George. Would that ease your distress?”

“XD- THIS CAN’T BE REAL- THIS- I-” George sinks to the ground. “He- he was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to come back, he wasn’t-” he grips their robes within his hands. “Please, XD, you can bring him back, please bring him back- this has to be a dream, he can’t be- he can’t be dead-”

Through his cries, the sirens continue to wail.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

Fluff Alphabet

A/N: This is a bit of a collab with my bestest best friend @lokistan! The ever amazing Star helped me come up with a question for each letter and she wrote the entirety of “N” herself! Hope you enjoy :)

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A=Adoration: What do they adore about you? • Everything. How understanding you are. Loki’s been through a lot, and you’re always patient with him. Even if he was nervous about the relationship in the beginning, you let him take his time, reassuring him you could go slow. And knowing all that, you always checked if he was alright, making sure you weren’t doing anything that made him uncomfortable or weren’t going to fast. He didn’t think anyone else would be quite as considerate as you.

B=Beauty: What do they find most beautiful about you? • Your smile. When you look at him with your face all lit up, he thinks his heart is going to burst from joy. No one else had ever looked at him quite as softly, as kindly, as genuinely as that. He likes to think about your smile as he drifts off at night. It gives him the best dreams.

C=Cuddles: Do they like cuddling? • Not at first. Loki is very guarded and letting anyone into his space is a big decision. Once he warms up to you, however, all he wants to do is snuggle. His preference between big spoon and small spoon depends on the day. When he’s feeling particularly antsy or small, all he wants is to be held in your arms as if sheltered from the world. But on his better days, when he just wants to protect his little mortal, he likes to wrap his body around yours, keeping the two of you in your own little bubble of happiness.

D=Date: What’s their favorite date you’ve had? • The first one. He was too nervous at first to go out with you in public, resulting in a dinner for two in his quarters at the Tower. It was happiness like he’d never known before, the first of many soft, quiet moments you two would share. Loki remembers being too nervous to take your hand in his and being pleasantly surprised when you were the one to hesitantly intertwine your fingers together. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget a single moment of that night.

E=Embarrassed: What about you makes them flustered? • The little things. Like when you take his hand in public. Or say you love him. Or throw a smile his way during a debriefing. Or laugh at one of his jokes. Everything you do seems so natural, so genuine, that it throws him off guard for a moment. When he realizes that’s because all the small things are reflections of how much you love him, his face goes bright red!

F=Forever: How do they plan the rest of your life together going? • Honestly, Loki doesn’t like to think about it. He just knows he needs to be with you, and that’s enough. Though, he did find a spell to expand a mortal lifespan, and plans on asking you if it’s ok to use it. If you say yes, he imagines whisking you away to a cabin in the woods for a while, spending some of your many years just basking in each other’s presence. If you say no, that’s fine too; he’ll still treasure every moment you have together and knows he’ll see you again some day.

G=Gifts: Do they like giving gifts? Receiving them? • Loves giving them; mixed feelings on receiving. Loki adores you so wholly and completely, he thinks it only natural he gives you a gift here and there. Ok, at least twice a month. If he sees something that reminds him of you—and most things do in some way—why not gift it to you? You always love them and want to give back to him. It always makes Loki confused because he had never seen himself worthy of such tokens of love. With every one you give him, you change his mind a little more.

H=Hello: What’s their favorite way to greet you? • With a kiss. Nothing long or extremely passionate, usually just a peck on the cheek or back of the hand. Sometimes, he’s too nervous to say he loves you out loud, but the little kiss says it all. Besides, the god considers it an honor to be allowed to be the one to give you such affections, and he plans on making the most of the privilege.

I=Impression: What was their first impression of you? • He’s intrigued. Loki never liked to have particularly strong feelings either way toward someone. But, despite being the God of Lies, he doesn’t like to deceive himself. There was some unplaceable thing about you that drew him in. Eventually, he realized it was because you never scorned him or cowered for him. No, you were always attentive and interested in listening to him. For someone like Loki, that was rare, so of course he wanted to stick around you.

J=Journal: Do they keep a journal? • Yes. Not religiously or anything. If he misses a few nights, it’s no big deal. He does like to quickly jot down a few thoughts when he can, though, usually about time he spent with you. Then when he can’t be with you at the moment for whatever reason, he can pull it out and flip through, reliving the memories with a smile on his face.

K=Kisses: What’s their favorite part of you to kiss? • The back of your hand. Asgard was a fairly formal place, and having been raised a prince, it was common for him to bow and place a kiss there. But with you, it was different. More meaningful. It was almost a way of bringing his old culture with him, yet making it his own. He wouldn’t always bow when he did it. In fact, more often than not, it was sans bow. Instead, if you were walking down the street hand in hand, he’d lift yours to his lips and plant a quick, gentle kiss there. Or if you were sitting together on the couch, he would do the same. Really, they were a good, fast little reminder of his affection for you at any time of the day. How adorably flustered it made you was just a bonus.

L=Love: How do they tell you they love you? • Through the things he does. Sometimes it’s hard for Loki to actually say the words because of his fears, so he opts to show you. He’ll ask if it’s ok to take care of you if it’s something bigger, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. So if you have a tough day, he’ll ask if it’d be alright if he draws you a bath or gives you a massage. If it’s a smaller thing, he doesn’t mention it. He’s not looking for praise, he just wants to show he loves you. So, sometimes he’ll make your favorites for dinner or dessert, or suggest watching your favorite movie or comfort TV show. Of course, you always notice and respond with “I love you, too.”

M=Mischief: Do they prank you? Prank with you? • Absolutely. Loki is the God of Mischief, a title he prides himself on much more than God of Lies. He never does anything too serious to you, just small things. Like convincing you of something absurd or making an illusion of a rather large bug, just enough to make you jump. Even better is pulling pranks with you. Like convincing Thor everyone but him can lift Mjolnir now. Or making Tony believe he’s going crazy and that beeping he keeps hearing is in his mind. And the best part of it all is when Loki gets to hear your beautiful laugh.

N=Never: What's something they would never do to you? • Push you. Loki understands that some things take time and patience. He would never pressure you to do something that you're not ready to do or say. Loki knows what the weight of the world feels like and would never put you through that. 

O=Original: How original are they when it comes to wooing you? • It can go either way. After all, not too many people have magic at their disposal, and Loki loves using it to impress you. Then again, he loves to throw in cheesy pickup lines that make you grin like an idiot because he just looks so adorable saying them.

P=Protective: How protective are they of you? • Very, but he tries not to let it show. Loki doesn’t want to stifle you or make you think he believes you’re weak. You’re actually one of the strongest people he knows. Still, he always watches over you and checks in on you, making sure you’re alright and no one is upsetting you. And if someone has, oh boy, they better watch out because he certainly will have some choice words for them. Of course, that would come with a threat to the person not to let you know he’d spoken to them. Unless he’d gotten your permission to intervene.

Q=Quiet: What quiet, peaceful moments do they appreciate the most? • The ones where you don’t need to be doing anything else. So many people always need to be talking, but with the storm of thoughts always swirling in his mind, Loki appreciates the quiet. The fact that you two can just lay together saying nothing means so much to Loki. He likes just enjoying your calming presence, looking into each other’s eyes, almost as if communicating through the silence, the special kind that only those as close as you two could truly understand and appreciate.

R=Romance: How romantic are they? • Extremely. Loki loves to sweep you off your feet. He’s a little shy about it at first, but once he’s comfortable, he’s constantly writing/reading you love poems and songs. Candlelit dinners become commonplace and you find rose petals lining your way the table more often than not. And if you ever watch a rom-com, you can bet Loki will be taking notes.

S=Sharing: Are they good at sharing their emotions with you? • Sometimes. If his fears of you leaving get the better of him or cause the problem, he doesn’t really want to talk about it and risk making you upset. Instead, he just lets you hold him when you can tell something’s wrong. But for most other cases he slowly learns how to trust and open up to you, telling you what’s going on inside his mind.

T=Trust: How much do they trust you? • A lot. There's not a single other person in the universe Loki would ever let hold him the way you do. He doesn’t tell anyone else his feelings, either. He loves you and knows you’re there for him, though, so he trusts you won’t tell anyone else. It helps that you trust him so much too.

U=Upset: How do they comfort you when your upset? • By holding you. Even if you’re not at the point where you need to cry, Loki will encompass your body with his, tucking your head under his chin. He’ll whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you feel better, rubbing his hands up and down your back. When you finally look up at him, he’ll shower your face with kisses and ask if you need to talk. If you say no, he just keeps holding you for as long as you’ll let him. If you say yes, he listens intently, offering words of encouragement or advice when you finish. He always makes sure to tell you how proud of you he is for doing your best.

V=Vulnerable: When was the first time they were vulnerable with you? • The first time his nightmares woke you up. You’d both fallen asleep on the sofa watching a movie. Unfortunately, he was startled from his slumber by the dreams that so often plagued him. You rubbed his back while he caught his breath and calmed down. Once he was doing better, you offered to listen to what was wrong. Unable to keep it in any longer, he broke down in your arms. After sharing with you, he felt better than he had in a long time. He didn’t have another nightmare for two months.

W=When: When did they realize they were in love with you? • The first time he said the words. He hadn’t thought about it, so it wasn’t premeditated. You two were just swaying to some music, and you’d looked up to place a quick kiss to his lips. He just looked at you and said the three-word phrase. You replied immediately, seemingly not thinking about it either. Loki realized his heart had known it before his brain, but it was in that moment he realized how true the words were. He loved you.

X=Xaphoon: What kind of music reminds them of you? • Classical music with big, sweeping movements. So often they start off soft, feather-light. Then they crescendo into something bigger, something brighter, something dramatic. It reminds him of the way he feels for you, how it swelled into that big moment of pure and complete love and adoration. If the piece calmed back down again, that was the best, since he’s feelings had settled into his bones, becoming part of him.

Y=Yearning: Do they yearn for you when you’re apart? • Very much so. If he has to go on a mission for a while or accompany Thor to Asgard, he misses you terribly. He’ll look at photos or make an illusion of you, but it’s not the same as actually having you there. When he gets back home, the first thing he does is run into your arms, telling you how much he missed you. The sudden confession he never exactly plans always made him blush.

Z=Zoo: Would they want any pets? • Only if you did. Loki was kind of neutral toward the whole pet thing. Sure, if someone else had one he’d always go and pet it, but having one of his own wasn’t that big of a deal to him. If you did want one, though, Loki would immediately take you to find just the right companion. And once you brought it back home, he’d love to play with it or look at it or tell it how cute it is. Practically becoming its best friend, he can be easily persuaded to adopt one or two or a dozen more. And, of course, he’s so absolutely adorable with it, you’d risk your heart exploding from a cuteness overload and let him pick the one to adopt that time.

[mello-jello]

Don't we all agree that Hange loves to play pranks on Levi? I'm pretty sure the most fucked up joke she made was when she pretended to sacrifice to save humanity and being burn alive? lord, Levi was so pissed off! It tooked like 3 years to finally forgive Hange and they finally living in a small cottage in the forest. How do I know this? Cause I'm their handmaid.

omg anon, how does one get that job? I will do it for free! I would PAY to have that job.

I realize Tumblr is collectively over the BBC Sherlock, but can you just imagine Hange with a stupid pencil drawn on moustache, trying and failing SO HARD to lighten the mood?

Maybe Hange needed to lay low? Maybe the Yeagerists has eyes on Levi, and making contact with him would have put him at risk?

oh no...

UhHHmm... hang on, I made this into a whole thing:

It’s midday and yet the sky is dark. Thick storm clouds circle above, threatening torrential downpour at any moment. The ceremony was good, all things considered. The 104th all gave short speeches about their beloved commander, which was nice. The priest was a little religious but kept the service pretty well non-secular, which is what Hange would have wanted.

Levi on the other hand, would have loved some sort of reassurance that this wasn’t the end. He would love to be able to believe in a heaven, where Hange is spending their time in complete bliss and will be there when it’s his time. He wants to believe there is any sort of omnipotent being in control of everything. He wishes he was capable of that kind of thinking.

And yet.

Everyone has left by now, and Levi’s not sure how he’d been standing there, staring at the freshly laid soil below a headstone. Fighting back tears, he speaks aloud, a last ditch effort to communicate with God or whatever. How does he know for sure Hange’s not listening anyway?

"Hange,” his voice catches as he had been clenching his jaw all day.

“I… I was so alone and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing... one more thing, one more miracle, Hange, for me? Don't. Be. Dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it. Stop this..."

Levi felt silly. Talking out loud to the dead never appealed to him before, why would he start now? He dropped the bouquet of flowers he was gripping too tightly onto the grave and turned to leave, just as the rain started to pour.

---

Onyankopon, Gabi, and Falco can sense Levi’s depression. It stems from more than the loss of Hange, it comes from everything Levi has ever lost in his entire life. There is no need for Levi to fight anymore. No more distractions. The lack of distractions is what makes living on so difficult.

It’s been three years since that fateful day, and the trio wanted to do something on the anniversary to take Levi’s mind off of it, even if just for an evening. Levi was bitter and cold as usual, but he knew they were just trying to help, and he did appreciate it. So reluctantly, he agreed to a movie and dinner.

He never even needed to shave before, but Levi had grown quite an impressive moustache during this time. The kids seemed to like it, they said he looked distinguished. Levi figured it would also help get attention off his scars.

Gabi and Falco were particularly excited for the movie. It was a musical comedy, of all things. Levi surprised himself by actually kind of laughing at it. He enjoyed the caramelized popcorn, too. At dinner, the 4 of them sat around a fancy table and Levi listened wholeheartedly as the other 3 discussed the movie. At one point, Gabi had shot soda out of her nose from laughing too hard, and Falco was teasing her about it.

Levi was about to interject with a snide remark, when he was suddenly interrupted by a particularly terse waiter.

“Sir, I think, you’ll find this vintage to your liking”, they said in an accent Levi had never heard before, while shoving a bottle of wine in his face. Levi was pissed, as the bottle so rudely brought up unpleasant memories.

“Tch, no.” Levi said as politely as he could muster through his teeth.

“It ’as all the qualities of the old, with some of the colour of the new,” they said, as if purposefully ignoring him. Levi was actually having a good time tonight, why did this guy have to be so pushy?

Keeping his locked forward, Levi said again, “No, thank you.”

The waiter switched sides, now on Levi’s left, which had the eye he could see with. Onyankopon gave Levi a sympathetic look as the water continued, “Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers, suddenly one is aware they are staring into ze face of an old friend.”

“No, look seriously,” Levi finally breaks and looks up, “could you just-”

Levi’s face drops. His entire body jolts impossibly rigid, as he stares with an expression of utter disbelief.

Hange. Hange was the waiter. They dipped a napkin into a glass of water, and wiped off the fake mustache from their top lip. “Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends, and anonymity to waiters,” they said in their normal voice.

“Levi?” Gabi asks, and Levi is suddenly aware that he forgot to breathe. He forgot to blink too. He feared that if he moved in any way, Hange might disappear.

He turns his head to Onyankopon, then his eyes fill with tears and he ducks his head momentarily before he stumbles clumsily to his feet, shaking the table in the process. He looks at Hange again, who then extends their arms, as if expecting Levi to hug them.

“Hange?” Oyankopon questioned, incredulously.

Levi looked down at the table, breathing heavily before locking eyes with Hange again.

“Hey, does your rub off, too?” Hange gestured to Levi’s facial hair, to which he did not find funny. His gaze was slowly turning murderous.

Falco put his hand on Levi’s arm. “What-?”

“Well, long story short,” Hange explained, a little awkwardly. “I’m not dead.”

Hange stares into Levi’s eyes as they slowly realize that this was a bad idea. They start feeling guilty. “It was a bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know. I could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defence, it was very funny. Okay, it’s not a great defence-”

“I SAW YOU!” Onyankopon broke through their rambling.

“Oh, no-

“YOU DIED!”

“I just checked, and no, no I didn’t!”

Levi made a fist and pounded the table, nearly spilling all their drinks and drawing attention to them. Hange looked around nervously, but Levi did not care, although he whispered, “three years.”

“Okay, Levi, I’m suddenly realising I probably owe you some sort of an apology,”

Levi took another, deliberately deep breath and asked, “how?”

“Just… okay, one question! Let me ask one question,” Hange asked. They pointed to Levi’s moustache, “Are you really going to keep that?” They blurted out in laughter for all of 2 seconds before Levi launched at them. They both crashed to the floor, Levi on top of Hange, trying to throttle them.