#i remember he said that his skin is delicate so maybe i'm not wrong

[growingwithem]

Lee Hyukjae taking a break...

[not-sleepys-blog]

Friends with benefits

Content: oral, f and m receiving, shy? sub reader, dom!Suguru?, praising, degrading, gamer!suguru, p in v, size kink?, just a lil possessiveness, breeding and talk of babies

Word count: 2,596

You groaned sitting on your bed in your shared apartment with your friend Suguru, who you had been casually hooking up with. Bored of scrolling through social media all day you decided to go into Suguru’s room to see what he was up to, only to find him gaming as usual. You sit on the floor next to him in his gaming chair and watch him play a solo game. Suguru glanced over at you, his eyes lingering on your curves before returning to the screen. "What do you want, Angel?" he asked dismissively, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he played. "Can't you see I'm busy here?" He smirked, knowing you wouldn't mind waiting for his attention.

You simply hummed in response feeling a bit turned on, feeling him eye your figure as you laid your head on his lap. He raised an eyebrow, feeling your warm breath against his thigh as you laid your head on it. He couldn't help but smile softly, gently running a hand through your hair. "Fine, fine." He sighed, turning off his game. "What do you need?" He asked, his tone softening slightly. "But don't think this means I'm done with games for the night." You rolled your eyes as you sat on his lap, burying your face into his neck chewing on the hoodie sleeve that you stole from him. He groaned softly, feeling your weight shift onto his lap. His hands moved to support you better, holding onto your waist as you straddled him. He leaned back, enjoying the sensation of your warmth radiating through the thin fabric of his pants. "Oh, really? What's wrong now, Angel?" He asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "Did you break something else?" He chuckled lightly, reaching down to rub his growing erection through his pants. "Or maybe you just wanted some attention?" He winked suggestively, knowing exactly how much trouble he could get himself into with you around. “I didn’t break anything” you pouted as you remembered the dish you knocked over and broke last week. Suguru chuckled, shaking his head playfully as he looked into your eyes. "Well, that's good news then." He said, his voice low and sultry. "So, what do you want, Angel?" He asked, his thumb tracing circles on your lower lip. "You know, if you keep sitting on me like this, things might get out of control..." He whispered, his gaze drifting down to your chest and back up again. "And I doubt your little pout will save you from my dominance tonight..." He added, his grip tightening slightly on your hips.

You wanted  him to do so many things to you right now, but the thought of asking for it made you embarrassed. But you knew if you didn’t say what you wanted he wouldn’t give it to you. You just pouted more, embarrassed about your dirty thoughts. He let out a low growl, his hands sliding down your sides to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. He leaned in, nuzzling your hair and whispering into your ear: "What is it, Angel? Don't be shy with me." He murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "You know I love hearing your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they may seem." He squeezed your ass gently, feeling your heartbeat quicken against his chest. "Now tell me what you want, or I might just take matters into my own hands..." He threatened, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your bare skin. You blushed more as you mumbled into his neck, “....want you to” your voice trailed off before picking up again “I want you to eat me out” Suguru's eyes widened slightly, a grin spreading across his face as he pulled away from your lips. He stood up abruptly, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you towards the bed. "Finally," he chuckled, placing you gently on the bed. "Lie down, Angel." He commanded, his voice firm but filled with lust. "I've been wanting to taste you all day." He stripped off his clothes quickly, revealing his toned body and impressive dick. "And don't worry, I won't be gentle..." He warned, his eyes locked onto yours as he crawled between your legs, You did as you were told and laid down on your back. Your eyes followed his movements, watching his every move as she covered your face with the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing. Suguru watched you intently, admiring your confidence and the way you covered your face. He smiled, gently pushing the sleeve aside and kissing your neck softly.

"Look at me, Angel." He ordered, his voice deep and commanding. "I want to see your reactions while I pleasure you." He pushed your legs apart, running his tongue along your inner thigh, making you shiver. "You're so wet already, I can't wait to feel how tight you are." He muttered, dipping his head down and licking your clit. "Just relax and enjoy it, I promise I won't disappoint." He purred, sucking your clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched off the bed as your fingers made their way to his hair giving it a small tug. Your legs started to shake and close around his head as a string of soft mewls left your mouth.He groaned, feeling your fingers gripping his hair firmly. He loved the control it gave him, knowing you trusted him to bring you to ecstasy. "That's it, Angel," he growled, sucking harder on your clit and pumping faster with his fingers. "Let go for me, let me feel you come on my tongue." He demanded, his own cock leaking precum onto the sheets. "You're so fucking beautiful, riding my face like this..." He whispered, feeling your muscles contract around his fingers as you began to climax. "Yes, just like that..." He cooed, continuing his assault “S-sir” you whimpered as your leg closed in on him, hips bucking “gonna- gonna cum.” He grinned, feeling your walls spasming around his fingers as he pushed your legs back open. He increased the pressure, making sure you reached your peak.

"Cum for me, Angel," he urged, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Show me how good it feels." He released one of your legs, reaching for his own leaking cock. "And while you're cumming, I'm going to jerk off and imagine it's your pretty mouth wrapped around me." He grunted, stroking himself roughly as he watched you squirm beneath him. "Once you finish, I want you to clean me off..." He ordered, his eyes locked onto yours. "Then we'll see who's getting what they want next..." He smirked, nearing his own release. You let out a choked back sob as you cum when you finally get permission to, Your legs shake as cry out tears prick your eyes as they roll back from the pleasure. Suguru groaned deeply, his own orgasm hitting. He swallowed every drop of your juices, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. Slowly, he pulled away, his face covered in sweat and cum. "That was perfect, Angel." He panted, lying beside you on the bed. "Now, it's my turn." He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him roughly. "Open wide." He commanded, his voice husky with desire. You moved your hand away from your face as you opened your mouth. He chuckled, appreciating your obedience. He positioned himself over your mouth, his cock throbbing and dripping with precum. "Good girl." He praised, guiding you with his hand. "Suck me off, make sure I'm clean." He demanded, his eyes locked onto yours as you took him into your mouth. "Deepthroat me, show me how much you enjoyed what I just did to you." He growled, thrusting forward, burying himself in your throat. "Make me feel good too, Angel." He ordered, grabbing your head and moving faster, feeling your warm mouth enveloping his sensitive tip. You took his cock as deep as you could without gagging, your tiny hand stroking the rest as your tongue moved around his head. He moaned loudly, his hips thrusting harder as you took more of him into your mouth. He gripped your head tighter, controlling the pace as you worked him with your hand and tongue. "That's it, Angel. Show me how much you love it." He growled, his balls slapping against your chin rhythmically. "You're such a good little slut, aren't you?" He praised, feeling your throat muscles working around his dick. "Keep going, make me cum in your mouth like the dirty bitch you are." He snarled, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic. "I bet you'd look even prettier with my cum on your face..."

He whispered, nearing his climax. You took his cock deeper into your mouth, testing your gag reflex, making your eyes water as you held onto his legs for support. Suguru groaned, feeling your throat constrict around him. He knew you were near your limit, but he wasn't ready to stop yet. "Almost there, Angel." He panted, his grip tightening on your head. "One more deepthroat, then I'll let you breathe." He ordered, thrusting deeper until you gasped for air. "Feel how close I am, feel how much you turned me on." He growled, slowing down only momentarily before picking up speed again. "I bet your pussy is soaked right now, isn't it?" He asked, his balls tightening in anticipation. "Want me to fuck you after this?" He suggested, his dick pulsing in your mouth.You looked up at him, your eyes blown wide with lust as you nodded desperately. A whine coming from you as you gagged around his long cock. He smiled cruelly, feeling your eyes pleading with him. He pulled out of your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva and precum. "You're such a good girl, Angel." He praised, wiping his cockhead on your cheek playfully. "I'll fuck you soon, but first, I want you to clean yourself up." He ordered, watching as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. "Get on your knees, face the wall." He instructed, his voice firm but filled with desire. "Spread your legs wide, I want a good view of that wet pussy." He demanded, adjusting his position behind you. "Are you ready for my big cock, kitten?" He asked, rubbing his head against your entrance. Suguru chuckled darkly, his hand moving to your hip, helping you maintain balance. "Good girl." He praised, slowly pushing into you, filling you up to the brim. "Take it all, Angel." He groaned, his hips rocking back and forth, stretching you wider than ever before. "Feel how much bigger I am than any other guy you've been with?" He asked, his hands grasping your hips tightly. "This is what you've been missing, isn't it?" He grunted, his cock pounding relentlessly into your tight hole. "Do you like it? Tell me, tell me you love having my thick cock inside you." He demanded, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

“S-so good, sir.” You mewled out covering your moans with the hoodie sleeve. He groaned, his hips picking up speed, driving his cock deeper into you. "That's a good girl." He praised, his free hand caressing your back lovingly. "You're so tight around me, squeezing me like a vice." He moaned, his cock throbbing inside you. "I'm not stopping until I've claimed every inch of your tight little body." He growled, his thrusts becoming more brutal, hitting your G-spot mercilessly. "Tell me you're mine, Angel." He demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you belong to me now." He panted, his breath hot against your ear. Your  tiny frame withered with pleasure as you muffled your moans, tears rolling down her cheeks from the pleasure. You babble something inherently, your mind too foggy with lust and pleasure to even brother forming sentences. Suguru grinned, feeling your words muffled by the sleeve. He slammed into you harder, claiming you as his own. "That's it, Angel." He growled, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. "Say it louder, let everyone know you're mine!" He barked, his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror. "My little submissive slut, begging for more of my cock." He praised, his grip tightening on your hips. "I'm going to breed you until you scream my name." He promised, his breath ragged and his eyes shining with lust. "You're mine, forever and always, understand?" He demanded, his release approaching rapidly. “S-sir I c-can I cum?” You somehow managed to whimper out. Your body began to shake as you looked at him with a fucked out look on your face. He smiled, feeling your walls clench around him in response. He slowed down, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting your G-spot perfectly. "Only if you beg properly, Angel." He teased, his voice filled with malice. "Beg me to make you cum, make me fill you with my cum." He growled, his cock throbbing within you. "Is that what you want, to be filled with my cum and scream my name?" He asked, his breathing heavy and erratic. "Then beg me, make me believe you want it." He demanded, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Please sir let me cum, c-cant take it. It’s too much! I-I want to be filled with your cum and have your babies, please sir!” Suguru laughed darkly, feeling your walls milking his cock. He thrust harder, aiming for your most sensitive spots. "You're so close, aren't you?" He taunted, his voice filled with satisfaction. "But you won't cum unless I allow it." He groaned, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust. "You want my cum, you want my babies? Then earn them, Angel." He ordered, his grip tightening on your hips. "Show me how much you need it, make me believe you can't live without my seed." He demanded, his own climax nearing. "Prove to me you're my good little slut." He growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. “Suguru, please!” You whined,obviously getting frustrated. “I want you to fill me all the way up, I wanna be full of your babies” He smirked, feeling your frustration building. He slammed into you with renewed vigor, his cock pulsing inside you. "Fine, Angel." He sighed, his voice filled with dominance. "But only because I feel like it." He growled, his hips moving faster, his balls slapping against your clit rhythmically. "Scream my name when you cum, make sure everyone knows who owns your tight little pussy." He ordered, his eyes locked onto yours. "Come on, kitten, let go..." He whispered, his own release imminent. "Show me how much you want your pretty pussy filled with my cum” You cried out loudly, so loud you might get a complaint from the neighbors because of the thin walls. Your eyes rolled back as drool spilled from the corner of your mouth. Your back arched off the bed as you came around his cock hard. “You love my cock don’t you slut." He groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. Feeling your walls contract around him. He thrust harder, surrendering to his own orgasm. "Yes, Angel, scream my name!" He praised, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum.

"You're mine, now and forever." He growled, collapsing on top of you, his breath ragged and his heart racing. "Did you enjoy it, my little slut?" He asked, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Was that what you wanted?" He murmured, his face buried in your hair. "We'll do it again tomorrow, promise." He whispered, his heart overflowing with pride.

[kiesbrainjuice]

— FRIENDZONE ! atsumu miya

syn : how are u gonna go out of the friendzone ?

wc : 2.7k

tw : none ! friends to lovers

You and Atsumu have been inseparable since middle school, your bond so strong that outsiders often mistake you for a couple. However, you've always maintained that you're just close friends, pushing down the flutter in your heart whenever he's near. Atsumu, seemingly oblivious to your hidden feelings, treats you with the same easy familiarity he always has.

On this particular day, you're enjoying your lunch in the school courtyard, savoring the warmth of the spring sun on your skin. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, their delicate petals drifting on the breeze. You're lost in thought, remembering all the years you've spent by Atsumu's side, when he suddenly drops onto the bench beside you with a heavy sigh.

You turn to look at him, concern etching your features. Atsumu's usually perfectly styled blonde hair is disheveled, as if he's been running his hands through it in frustration. His brow is furrowed, and there's a tightness around his eyes that you've come to recognize as a sign of his inner turmoil.

"Tsk, I'm confused why it's so hard to find a suitable lover for me???" he groans, ruffling his hair even further.

Your heart clenches at his words, a mix of sympathy and secret longing washing over you. You've loved Atsumu for years, your feelings deepening with each shared laugh, each volleyb all practice, each late-night study session. But you've never found the courage to confess, fear of ruining your friendship holding you back.

"What happened this time?" you ask softly, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Atsumu leans back, his shoulder brushing against yours. The casual contact sends a shiver down your spine, one you hope he doesn't notice.

"I asked Anako-san out," he admits, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "She turned me down flat. Said she's not interested in dating anyone right now."

You nod sympathetically, even as a small, selfish part of you rejoices. "I'm sorry, Tsumu. That must have been tough."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I should be used to it by now, huh? But sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Am I not good enough?"

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. You want nothing more than to take his face in your hands and tell him how amazing he is, how any girl would be lucky to have him. How you've been in love with him for years.

Instead, you bump his shoulder gently with yours. "Don't be ridiculous. You're an amazing person, Atsumu. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

He looks at you then, his warm brown eyes softening. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you, you know? You always know how to make me feel better."

You smile, ignoring the bittersweet ache in your chest. "That's what best friends are for, right?"

Atsumu nods, then suddenly grins. "Hey, maybe I should just date you instead! We already act like a couple half the time anyway."

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you consider telling him the truth. But then he laughs, the sound light and carefree, and you know he's just joking. You force a laugh of your own, pushing down the words you long to say.

"As if you could handle me, Miya," you tease, falling back into your familiar banter.

As you sit there with Atsumu, an idea suddenly strikes you. It's painful, but you convince yourself it's for the best. "Hey, Tsumu," you say, trying to keep your voice light, "I think I might know someone who'd be perfect for you. Want me to set you up?"

Atsumu looks at you, surprise evident in his features. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

You nod, ignoring the twinge in your chest. "Of course. That's what friends are for, right?"

Without giving yourself time to reconsider, you pull out your phone and call your friend, Yui. She's pretty, kind, and has mentioned finding Atsumu attractive before. You arrange for her to meet you both at the courtyard.

A few minutes later, Yui arrives. Her long dark hair is swaying in the breeze, and she's wearing a cute sundress. As soon as she spots Atsumu, her eyes light up.

"Hi, Yui!" you call out, waving her over. But to your surprise, she barely glances at you. Her gaze is fixed solely on Atsumu, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hello, Atsumu-kun," she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Atsumu straightens up, his earlier dejection forgotten. "Hi, Yui-chan. It's nice to see you."

You watch as they start talking, feeling increasingly out of place. The conversation flows easily between them, and you can see the interest sparking in Atsumu's eyes. It's exactly what you wanted, you tell yourself, even as your heart feels like it's breaking.

After a few minutes of awkward silence on your part, you decide you can't take it anymore. "Well," you say, forcing a bright smile onto your face, "I just remembered I have some studying to do. Why don't you two stay and chat?"

Yui nods absently, still focused on Atsumu. But Atsumu turns to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. You know he's always been able to read you better than anyone else, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he studies your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. "You don't have to go."

You wave him off, your fake smile still firmly in place. "No, no, it's fine. You two have fun!"

As you turn to leave, you feel Atsumu's eyes on you. You know he can tell something's off – he's always been able to see through your fake smiles. But you can't bring yourself to look back. You're afraid that if you do, he'll see the truth in your eyes, the pain you're trying so hard to hide.

You walk away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Part of you hopes that Atsumu will call out, will stop you from leaving. But he doesn't, and you're not sure if that makes it better or worse.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the courtyard, you finally let your smile drop. You lean against the wall, taking a deep, shaky breath. You tell yourself that this is what's best for Atsumu, that you're being a good friend by helping him find someone. But it doesn't stop the ache in your chest or the tears that threaten to fall.

You stay there for a moment, gathering yourself. Then, with one last deep breath, you straighten up and walk away, leaving your heart behind in that sun-dappled courtyard with the boy you love and the girl who might make him happy.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

—

The next morning, you drag yourself to school, your heart heavy with the events of yesterday. The spring air feels colder somehow, the cherry blossoms less vibrant. You're lost in thought, replaying yesterday's scene in your mind, when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turn to see Yui running towards you, her long hair streaming behind her. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, but you force a smile onto your face.

"Good morning, Yui," you manage to say as she reaches you, slightly out of breath.

"Morning!" she chirps, her eyes bright with excitement. "I'm so glad I caught you. Do you know where Atsumu is?"

Your heart sinks even further. Of course, she's looking for Atsumu. "I... I'm not sure," you stammer. "We don't always walk to school together."

Yui's face falls slightly, but her enthusiasm doesn't wane. "Oh, that's okay. I just wanted to thank him for yesterday. We had such a great time talking after you left!"

You nod mechanically, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That's... that's great, Yui. I'm glad you two hit it off."

"We really did!" she gushes, falling into step beside you as you continue walking. "He's so funny and charming. And those eyes! I could get lost in them forever."

Each word feels like a dagger to your heart, but you keep nodding, keep smiling. This is what you wanted, isn't it? For Atsumu to find someone who appreciates him?

"Oh!" Yui exclaims suddenly. "There he is! Atsumu-kun!"

Your head snaps up, and sure enough, there's Atsumu walking through the school gates. He turns at the sound of Yui's voice, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on you. For a moment, something flickers in his gaze - concern? confusion? - but before you can decipher it, Yui is already bounding towards him.

You watch as she reaches him, talking animatedly. Atsumu smiles at her, but his eyes keep darting back to you. You want to look away, but you can't seem to tear your gaze from him.

Suddenly, Atsumu says something to Yui and starts walking towards you. Your heart rate speeds up, and you consider turning and fleeing. But before you can decide, he's there, standing in front of you.

"Hey," he says softly. "You okay? You left pretty quickly yesterday."

You open your mouth to reassure him, to lie and say everything's fine. But as you look into his warm brown eyes, the words stick in your throat. For a moment, you're both silent, the bustling noise of the schoolyard fading away.

Then the bell rings, shattering the moment. You blink, coming back to reality.

"We should get to class," you mumble, ducking your head to avoid his gaze.

Atsumu reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm as if he wants to stop you. But he lets it fall back to his side. "Yeah," he says, his voice tinged with something you can't quite identify. "Yeah, we should."

As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back. You want to turn around, to run back and tell him everything. But you keep walking, one foot in front of the other, towards your classroom and away from the boy you love.

The day stretches ahead of you, full of classes and conversations and moments where you'll have to pretend everything is normal.

—

As lunchtime arrives, Atsumu finds himself rushing towards your classroom, a strange urgency driving his steps. He's been feeling off-kilter since yesterday, a nagging sensation he can't quite place. But as he rounds the corner, he stops dead in his tracks.

There you are, but you're not alone. You're laughing with a guy he doesn't recognize, your head thrown back in genuine mirth. Something hot and unfamiliar surges through Atsumu's chest. Before he can process what he's doing, he's striding towards you two.

"Back off," he growls at the guy, his eyes flashing dangerously.

You whirl around, shock evident on your face. "Atsumu? What are you-"

But you don't finish your sentence. Instead, you grab Atsumu's wrist and drag him away, muttering a quick apology to your bewildered classmate. You pull Atsumu into the nearest empty space - the janitor's closet - and shut the door behind you.

The small space is dim and cramped, filled with the scent of cleaning supplies. You're standing so close to Atsumu that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, but you push that thought aside as anger bubbles up inside you.

The janitor's closet door slams shut behind you, the small space amplifying the tension crackling between you and Atsumu.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you seethe, your voice low but filled with fury.

Atsumu's eyes flash dangerously. "Me? What about you? Who was that guy you were all cozy with?"

"That's none of your business!" you snap back. "You don't get to act all jealous when you're out there chasing every girl in school!"

"I'm not chasing every girl!" Atsumu retorts, his voice rising. "And even if I was, why do you care?"

"Because it's pathetic!" you shoot back, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "You're so desperate for a girlfriend that you can't even see what's right in front of you!"

Atsumu's face contorts with anger. "What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who set me up with Yui yesterday!"

"Because that's what you wanted, isn't it?" you yell, your carefully constructed walls crumbling. "To find a 'suitable lover'? Well, congratulations! Looks like you've found one!"

"You don't know what I want!" Atsumu shouts, taking a step closer to you.

"Oh, don't I?" you laugh bitterly. "I've been watching you flirt and get rejected for years, Atsumu. I think I have a pretty good idea!"

"You don't know anything!" he growls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "If you did, you wouldn't be laughing it up with some random guy!"

"He's not random, he's my friend!" you defend hotly. "And what does it matter to you anyway? You're too busy with your own love life to care about mine!"

"That's not true and you know it!" Atsumu's voice echoes in the small space. "I've always cared about you!"

"Oh, really?" you scoff, even as your heart races at his words. "Is that why you're always complaining to me about not having a girlfriend? Is that why you let me set you up with Yui without a second thought?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Atsumu shouts back. "You're the one who suggested it!"

"Because I thought that's what you wanted!" Your voice cracks with emotion. "I thought… I thought I was being a good friend."

"A good friend?" Atsumu repeats incredulously. "A good friend wouldn't push me towards other girls if they…"

He trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air between you.

"If they what, Atsumu?" you press, your heart pounding so hard you're sure he must be able to hear it.

"If they had feelings for me themselves," he finishes quietly.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stare at each other, both breathing heavily from the argument.

"Is that what this is about?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I have feelings for you?"

Atsumu runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "I don't know! Do you? Because sometimes I think… but then you do things like set me up with other girls, and I just don't understand!"

"You don't understand?" you repeat, your own frustration bubbling over. "How do you think I feel, watching you chase after every girl but me? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Atsumu's eyes widen. "What are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, realizing there's no going back now. "I'm saying that I love you, you idiot! I've been in love with you for years, but I was too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship!"

Atsumu stares at you in shock for a long moment before a smile slowly spreads across his face. "You love me?"

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Yeah, I do. But if you don't feel the same way, I understand. We can just forget this whole thing and-"

You're cut off as Atsumu closes the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you too," he says softly. "I've been in love with you for so long, I can't even remember when it started."

"But… all those other girls?" you ask, confusion replacing your anger.

Atsumu shakes his head. "I was trying to get over you. I thought you only saw me as a friend. I never dreamed you might feel the same way."

You laugh incredulously, tears pricking at your eyes. "We've both been such idiots, haven't we?"

"The biggest," Atsumu agrees, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that's escaped down your cheek. "But maybe we can start being smart now?"

You nod, your heart feeling like it might burst with happiness. Atsumu leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that feels like coming home.

When you finally break apart, you're both grinning like idiots. "So," you say, trying to catch your breath, "what do we do now?"

Atsumu takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Now," he says, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief, "we go have lunch. And maybe I can properly introduce myself to that guy as your boyfriend?"

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "I'd like that," you say softly.

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[deebris]

The Fractured Bonds

Nolan Grayson x daughter reader (platonic!)

Mark Grayson x sister reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Mark finds himself facing an unexpected threat to his family when Angstrom Levy decides to hold his mother and sister hostage. Despite the family turmoil they've endured and Nolan's departure, he returns to rescue his daughter.

Warnings: Contains scenes of violence, emotional distress and it mentions that the reader was murdered in other realities. The reader is 5 years old. This is just an idea I had a long time ago and kept it stored. This scenario was inspired by Chapter 33 of the "Invincible" comics in portuguese.

Word count: 3.6k

As soon as Mark flew into the house through the window, his heart stopped when he saw you and his mother clinging to each other, as if your lives depended on that embrace. When Eve told him that Debbie had called, but the voice on the phone was a man's, he couldn't help but rush back to you two and imagine that something was wrong, and indeed it was.

At first, he ignored the hideous figure holding you both hostage, but made a point to glare at him with hatred now. His head was larger than that of an ordinary person and the shape of his brain was imprinted around the skull; moreover, the expression on the stranger's face was manic and as furious as Mark's, but there was a kind of excitement shining through.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Your brother's voice was deeper than usual; an attempt to sound more authoritative and intimidating.

"He wanted me to bring you here..." Debbie suddenly began to speak "I-I didn't know where you were. I remembered that Eve had called, I thought maybe she knew." Her voice was faltering, full of pauses between words due to nervousness. And it was while his mother was speaking that Mark noticed her bruised face, with a bleeding nose and purple patches on her arms as she held your small body as protected as possible.

You seemed to be in better physical condition than her, but your injured knee did not go unnoticed, as a thin trail of blood had formed around your calf. In an adult, the wound wouldn't have been a big deal, but your delicate skin stung with the cut, and he knew it hurt because of your sniffles. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. H-he hurt me, he was going to hurt my baby." She said the last part with regret, referring to you, while holding you closer and running her fingers through your hair.

"In fact, I think your son was talking to me." Interrupting his mother, finally that man had spoken, and his tone was cynical, too unconcerned for the taste of the furious Mark glaring at him. As if that weren't enough, he dared to touch Debbie's shoulder, acting as if he had every right to do so.

"Let them go now." Mark ordered him with dangerously calm voice, although the expression on his face was one of pure disgust.

"Not yet." He opened a diabolical smile as he began his ridiculous speech: "I've learned a lot about you, Mark Grayson. Many things. I know how violent you can get when you're angry, like now..." He paused dramatically, as if he needed to emphasize what he was about to say next, and it was only irritating Mark's impatient. "I know you got it from your father."

The scowl on Mark's face deepened as you tried to peek out from your mother's arms to try to understand what was going on, but she pulled you closer to her embrace. "Stay here with mommy, sweetheart."

Both she and your brother hadn't had the courage to tell you what had happened to Nolan; you were still too young, maybe you wouldn't even understand. They both spent the last few months avoiding mentioning your father at home, and when they did, it was in whispers so that you wouldn't start asking questions they wouldn't know how to answer. No child should know that their own father was a superhero killer, let alone that he had abandoned his own family out of sheer moral caprice.

"Did you know that your identity is public in almost forty percent of the realities where you exist, Mark?" The villain continued his taunts, wanting to get to some point. "That's almost half. And that means you're careless."

"Get to the point already." Mark asked, or rather demanded. If this continued, he was sure he would snap. This dialogue was irritating him, but as long as his mother and sister were witnessing everything, he would need to hold himself together until he found a way to get him away from here.

"You see this?" He pointed to himself, referring to his own appearance "I'm a freak... A deformed freak. So I guess it's understandable that you don't recognize me." Then he wrapped you and your mother around his arm in threat, and the grip was painful. "When you saw me before, when you did this to me, I looked much more normal!"

"Oh, god... You're that guy." Realization struck him, widening his eyes as he remembered the past.

"That guy? Is that all you remember of me? That I was that guy?" If that man's temperament was bad before, now it must have risen about twenty degrees with the lack of importance his sworn enemy had given him. "I'm Angstrom Levy! The next time you forget my name, it will be because you'll be dead!"

He was certainly furious, pouring out hatred and continuing to blame Mark for interrupting his inter-dimensional goals, blaming him for his current deformed appearance, repeating that he would always be a freak, even though he had sought out the best surgeons to reconstruct his shattered body.

"The greatest minds in a dozen realities couldn't find a way to fix my brain!" His hands clenched into heavy, tense fists, ready to crush something "And it's all because of you!"

After that, he exploded and everything happened too quickly for Debbie to stop him, and even if she were quick, she wouldn't have had the strength. In moments, you were ripped from your mother, who had taken a punch to the face. Levy held you and stretched one of your arms with the free hand. You hadn't acquired powers yet and were nothing but a child; you couldn't defend yourself alone.

Mark took a step forward, but Levy raised your arm in a strange position, ready to break it. You cried and sobbed desperately due to the intense pain. "Mommy, make him stop! Mark!" You pleaded as he twisted your arm, and irrationally shouted for your brother repeatedly, seeking someone who could come to your rescue.

"Let her go!" Mark was no longer the Invincible, even in his superhero costume. He was just a man trying to protect his family, and he felt so useless and powerless that it was agonizing. Without thinking, he lunged at the hideous villain in front of him, ready to confront him in physical combat at that very moment.

"That's right. I'm right here. Come get me!" And he did, but Mark was taken aback to find himself in a completely strange place. He was no longer in his home; Angstrom Levy had sent him through one of his portals to another dimension.

He watched in shock the weird jungle he found himself in, with mutant dinosaur-like creatures devouring the carcass of another beast as large as they were right beside him. The animals noticed Mark, and suddenly they... Spoke? He heard the beasts mention that it had been a long time since they had seen any Homo Sapiens, obsessed with devouring him. Apparently, he was in some apocalyptic dimension where humans had been extinct by these beasts. He could have ended these animals in seconds, but still couldn't help but feel fear, not for himself, but for you. How would he return to help you?

At home, Debbie had to plead with Levy to return you to her, and with some pity for your cries after he broke the arm, he returned you, allowing you to be comforted by your mother. But he kept you two close to him, with a firm grip on the older woman's shoulder, so he could use you against Mark at any moment.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," she repeated comforting words as she wiped away your tears and rubbed your back gently. Debbie had seen and heard of many cruel villains thanks to her life as the wife of a "hero," but how insensitive would a human being need to be to break a 5-year-old's arm like this? Of course, she knew that even more horrendous things had happened to children in this world, but you were her daughter, and it hit her deeply.

Debbie felt you faint in her lap and panicked. She shouldn't have shaken you the way she did, but in the midst of desperation, the last thing she wanted was to see you silent, with your eyes closed. You passed out from the pain. It's normal, she's aware of that, but it was still terrifying. She was only taken out of her stupor when she heard his disgusting voice again:

"I can't believe you're going to lie to her like that." He drew attention to himself. "What kind of mother are you? How can you say that to her? You're not sure about that." Debbie ignored him, and he took it as a challenge. "I bet you're not even listening to me. Blocking me from your mind, aren't you?" He insisted. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? I could use your company."

He tried once more, but still received no response from the woman. Levy shifted his gaze from Debbie to carefully observe you. He knew the pain must be intense; he should have given up injuring you as soon as Mark passed through the portal, but he preferred to do it as a reminder. A warning for when his brother returned. If he returned. "Let's check on your son. Let's see how well Mark managed to survive this reality."

Extending his hands to summon a portal that glowed green, a figure in his yellow superhero uniform passed through the colorful circle.

"You were going to hurt my sister?" The boy shouted as soon as he saw he was back home, numb with a sense of vengeance.

"Not only was I going to, but I did." The statement made Mark's blood run cold.

"Mark?" Debbie called him desperately to show your state. She couldn't bear to see you suffer. Mark held his mother's gaze, interrupting only to finally notice you, who were motionless. Your arm was in such a unusual and swollen position. Your face, which was once red from crying, now had turned pale, and if it weren't for your shallow breathing, he would have thought you were dead.

"What have you done?" He asked furiously.

Levy made no move to respond, taking you from Debbie's arms once again. "No! Let go of my daughter!" She shouted angrily, completely abandoning her earlier fearful expression. She refused to allow that horrendous creature to take you away from her a second time. Debbie had felt how cold and clammy your skin was, and the more she looked at you, the paler your face became.

"Welcome back, Mark Grayson." Levy said after observing the hysterical scene of the woman beside him unfold with some indifference. "Your little sister here is really cute; I personally adore this chubby face of hers." Mark's throat tightened at the sight of you in the arms of that despicable man, scared with force, and seeing his broken mother in the corner of the bed only made his heart beat harder. "You know, I've encountered her in other realities." His tone was perverse, too cynical. "But unfortunately, those versions of her didn't get to advance much in age compared to this one. Isn't that interesting?"

"You bastard!" It didn't take much intelligence to understand what he meant, and it made Mark's nostrils flare with fury.

"That also makes me wonder what must have happened differently for her to survive longer in this dimension." Debbie moved from where she was on the bed and carefully reached for the bedside lampshade while Angstrom Levy was distracted, but a brief glance at her son made her abandon the idea. Mark discreetly shook his head negatively, implying that she shouldn't do that. "Or maybe I am the trigger for this event here," he pointed out with a smile.

"If you hurt her more, I swear-" Mark said with hatred and tense body, but he was interrupted.

"What? You'll kill me? Of course, you will." The villain stared at him seriously, with some skepticism. "Don't worry. However, her well-being really only depends on you. After all, it was you who let Anissa kill her once, and Conquest, and Thragg... Although the latter was more your father's fault," he stated matter-of-factly while scratching his chin.

He seemed like had finished speaking, but decided that the hero needed to hear more upon seeing the boy's shocked face at the mention of those peculiar names, yours assassins, curiously, all Viltrumites. Levy wasn't sure if Mark was already aware of these people, but what really mattered to him was to disturb the boy. "But it's you whom I want to hurt. I want to hurt you so, so much... Your little sister is very safe, as long as I determine that the only way to hurt you is by hurting her."

Then suddenly he lifted your unconscious body in his arms as he prepared to throw you into a portal. Debbie's heart was in combustion, beating faster than ever as she suppressed a scream. But your brother's temper finally snapped, completely determined to kill him once and for all.

Mark moved forward to stop him, but within seconds, the roof of the house was pierced and him felt something, or rather, someone push him away. He couldn't see much, but he followed his mother's pleas and embraced her, protecting her from the wreckage. His throat tightened at not seeing you, not knowing what was happening, but soon part of the dust began to settle.

Struggling a bit, the boy managed to see his father's back, apparently holding the man, who moments ago was about to send you away, in the air by the neck. He relaxed a little more when he saw traces of his hair resting on Nolan's broad shoulder, finally free from the dangerous clutches. Despite the disturbing events regarding his father, Mark knew he wouldn't let anyone harm you under his protection.

Levy felt himself losing breath, his brain throbbing from the blow he received from a piece of wood fallen from the ceiling. An intense pain hit him as Omni-Man began to bash his head repeatedly against the wall. His skull was now partly mashed into the concrete, and the red liquid that was his blood flowed to the ground.

"If my left fist weren't busy, I'd make you suffer much more," Nolan's thunderous and deep voice sounded intimidatingly throughout the room. "Despicable trash like you should keep your filthy hands to yourself."

Nolan struck one last time as he whispered in a chilling whisper the last words that man would hear before having his skull pushed against the wall slowly, until it crushed like gelatin: "I'll ensure that every version of you that dares to appear here on this Earth, or anywhere in this Universe, has a slow and painful death before laying a finger on my daughter again."

And as the Viltrumite increased the grip on Levy's neck and continued pressing his head against the wall, it seemed like his eyes were about to pop out. The skin that was once brown now split between purple and pink in some spots due to the continuous pressure while him was dying.

Observing the man coldly, Nolan withdrew his hand and took care not to stain you with the blood dripping from his fingers, portraying a much gentler grimace as he observed your sleeping figure. He always found it adorable to see how incredibly tiny you looked in his arms, It awakened an intense feeling of protection. But upon noticing that you were injured, his eyebrows furrowed, carefully examining your broken arm while wondering how Mark had let this happen.

"Father, what-" Mark broke free from his mother, finally finding words amidst the shock, but was interrupted.

"Your sister needs to go to the hospital." His voice was distant, almost emotionless, successfully masking the concern.

Debbie honestly wasn't ready to face the man she had been deceived by so soon, but she couldn't care less when the only thing she had wanted for hours was just to keep you safe and close to her. She avoided his eyes as she anxiously waited for an opportunity to have you back in her arms, and her ex-husband seemed to have noticed. As hesitant as he was, he walked over to her carefully, avoiding showing a more human side of himself to his family, but also not being hostile in his gestures. He surrendered to the act and pressed his lips to one of her temples before putting you in her arms.

"Take good care of her." He stared at his son with some severity. "I can't always be here, I'm entrusting her life to you, Mark."

The boy looked at him with some indignation, as if his father doubted that he would do everything to protect you, but he knew he had been too careless, as Angstrom Levy said he was. Even though he had the strength to defend his little sister, he still found himself vulnerable tonight, almost incapable.

"You don't need to ask for that." Mark was firm, and Nolan nodded satisfactorily. He thought about saying something more, even though he didn't understand why, the last thing he should want is to speak to his father again. Perhaps it was to unload the disgust he still felt, but the health of both of you was a more important matter to him now.

"Go away." Debbie's voice surprised them. She was obviously defeated, too tired for all this, but still found the energy to stand while holding you. "It was the necklace, wasn't it? Are you spying on us?"

Nolan's gaze was hard, trying to hide how his ex-wife's contempt affected him. The months of bitterness he spent in space had changed his demeanor a bit, but he thought it would be less painful for both of them not to hear his regret after all the harm he had caused. He didn't consider himself worthy of his family's pity, although now they considered him a stranger. He knew that Mark and Debbie still harbored a monstrous image of the person he was, and perhaps he really was.

"Aren't you going to admit it?" She asked him again with indignation, seeing that the man didn't make a single move to leave.

The object she referred to was a gift from both of them to you, or rather, from Nolan. He was the one who had the idea of ​​putting the necklace around your neck with the excuse of keeping you safe. He wanted to know where you were and who you were talking to, and the way he found to do that was by projecting this piece with the help of his planet's technology. "I hope every time you hear this little girl mention your name, you wriggle with remorse and agony, if you still have any kind of heart. You were better off away."

She still remembers when he told you: 'Whenever you want to talk to me, just hold your necklace close. That way I'll always be with you.' At the time, it was something so beautiful, something they hadn't thought of doing with Mark, but now it could be different. In your childish mind, it was as if it were magical and a piece of your father would really be with you all the time. But now it stirred disgust in her, she wanted to destroy it.

"Don't take it off, Debbie. Please." Nolan's imposing voice had become softer, almost frightened, and he had finally shown some kind of weakness after so long. "Please." He repeated the plea.

"Mom, maybe it's a good idea to let her keep wearing it. At least sometimes." Mark interfered not for his father, but thinking of you. If Nolan had been able to appear today to save you, he could come to your rescue more often, although the idea of ​​you being in danger again gave him chills.

Debbie hesitated, giving up tearing the necklace off your neck. Knowing that Nolan would be able to experience their day-to-day life bothered her, but she would deal with it later, remembering that you needed medical care. She was very hurt, but her own condition didn't matter to herself as long as she saw you awake and well again. "Mark. Hospital." she announced hurriedly ignoring the fourth person in the room and the bloody scene beside her.

Nolan sighed in relief for a moment, looking one last time at you and Mark, ashamed, but adopting the stone-cold expression he had previously. "Mark, don't let her take it off." He didn't want to sound like that, but the tone of his voice carried a threat. The boy cared little about giving him any kind of response, returning a grim expression to his father as he departed at a thunderous speed through the now-open roof, just as he had come, raising the dust once again.

"Let's go," Mark said gently to his mother, lifting her delicately since you were in her arms.

[mustainegf]

Hiiii so can you maybe write about that the reader and james have been together for a while now but thay haven't had sex yet and whene thay are kissing and so james started to take of the readers pants but the reader is nervous because she has an outie and she is insecure about it but then whene james sees it he loves it and makes sure it's noting to be insecure about and then thay en up having slow sweet sex with maybe praising kink ?

THIS IS SO REAL more representation for our outie queens, it’s tough out here

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁶

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, half with excitement, half with nervousness, as I lay on his bed under the warm light from the bedside lamp. It was like setting up a really cozy scene between us. He was a gentle and loving man, yet I did know that James would be very patient with me, but I just could not shake off the anxiety in my stomach.

We had kissed, touched, and our bodies were getting hotter by the minute. Everywhere he touched, James's fingers lit my skin at contact. He was making me feel so desired, so wanted, yet I couldn't escape the nagging fear that had been with me for as long as I could remember.

My body tensed up the second his hands reached the waistband of my panties. Panic rattled me, and I drew back a little, my breath choking in my throat. James noticed immediately, he knitted his brows together in concern.

"Hey, what's wrong, love?" he asked softly, "Did I do something?

I shook my head, and my cheeks burned. "No, it's not you," I mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. "It's just that… I’m so scared."

James cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gingerly brushing away a tear that had escaped. "Scared of what, sweetheart? You can tell me."

I took a deep breath to summon the guts to explain. "It's just… I've always been insecure about… down there," I admitted. "I don't look like the girls in the magazines or… you know, what you might be used to. I'm afraid you'll think I'm ugly…"

James's expression relaxed, and he bent down to press a tender kiss on my forehead. "Hey, look at me," he said gently. Slowly, I did so. His eyes were so loving. "I think you're beautiful. Every part of you."

I bit my lip, and the knot in my stomach hadn't gone away. "But… it's different," I said, feeling awkward. "My… my um, it's… big, and not pretty. It's not what guys expect.”

James shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You know, I've never been one to care what people expect," he said, his tone reassuring. "I care about you, and I think every part of you is perfect just the way it is. Whatever you look like down there isn’t gonna change the fact I wanna have sex with you."

I had been ashamed of my body for so long, it was hard to believe that someone like him could find me beautiful. But James was patient, his hands never leaving mine as he waited for me to feel ready.

"Can I see?" he asked softly.

I hesitated for a moment before I started nodding slowly. "Okay," I breathed, as my heart thudded.

Carefully, he began to slide my panties down, not taking his eyes off mine. I felt the whole shake of my body at the fear of the moment.

As soon as my panties were finally off, James took a moment to look at me. His eyes were full of interest, not one hint of disgust or disappointment in them. He was looking at me as though he was seeing something precious, beautiful.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, still in love.

My eyes welled up again, this time with tears of relief. He bent and pressed soft light kisses along my inner thighs, so tender. So slow.

When his lips finally met my clit, I gasped. The sensation was like a little starburst between my legs. His tongue teased me, touching me delicately. He took his time in discovering every inch of me, determined to show his affection to every crevice.

"James," I moaned. "That feels… fuck.”

His shining eyes looked upward at me,thickly lustful. "I want you to feel good," he said softly. "You deserve to feel beautiful."

James kissed and licked me further, the touch made me shiver all over. His hands stroked across my hips, holding me lightly, as he used his mouth to feel around me.

As he pulled back at last, his lips glistening with my arousal, he looked at me tenderly. "You taste real fuckin’ good, babe," he said, snickering. "I could do this all night."

James took a deep kiss, his lips capturing mine. "You're beautiful," he murmured against my lips. "Inside and out."

He positioned himself over me and locked his eyes with mine, guiding himself to my entrance. He entered me so slowly that every sensation overwhelmed me in turn: the stretch and pleasure twisted together until I did feel like my breath wouldn’t return.

James moved very slowly, his thrusts gentle and controlled, allowing me time to feel his throbbing presence inside me.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice ripped from his lips in desire. "How’s that baby?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him closer, “it’s so good, James…”

James's movements became quicker, and his thrusts deeper. I felt the heat gathering and pooling deep in my belly. He held me close, his kisses never stopping as he whispered.

"So fuckin’ perfect," he breathed against my ear. "You’re taking me sooo good… such a good job."

The formed words tingled down my spine as I could feel my body nearing orgasm. Lust began to build to a peak, and I cried out as the climax strikes over me, my body wracked with a tremor.

Shortly after, James pulled out, finishing himself off with a few pumps before he was spurting cum over my heaving stomach. James groaned very loudly out into the room, squeezing the last bit of seed to drip from him.

James rolled over beside me with a sigh, we lay together, naked and limbs knotted. He stroked my hair with gentle, soothing motions. "Thank you for trusting me, baby," he whispered.

[drewsephrry]

memories

Harry Styles x reader

Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

Warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words

Words: 2.7k

It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.

Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.

It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.

Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.

“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.

“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.

“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.

“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.

After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.

She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.

After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.

A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.

“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.

“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.

“You're such an idiot!”

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?

She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.

She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.

Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.

“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.

He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.

“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.

“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.

Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.

“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.

“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.

Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.

“H-Harry…I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.

Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.

Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.

“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.

Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.

How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?

That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.

He had left her.

She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.

She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.

The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.

Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.

A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.

She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.

“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.

She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.

Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.

“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”

“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.

She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.

“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.

“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.

“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.

“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.

“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”

Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.

“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.

“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.

One, two.

One, two.

In, out.

In, out.

She was calm again.

The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.

“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.

“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.

“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.

The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.

Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.

A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.

And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.

She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.

“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.

“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.

“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.

“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.

Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.

“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.

“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”

Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.

He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.

“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me

[fertilize-my-eggs]

The night stalker ch.1

Ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 A03

A/N: the first chapter is base on my dream a few days ago so I believe it's was sleep paralysis demon that I was having but this give me the idea for this chapter :3

Blinking the tiredness away as I curl into a ball, the soft warmth touches on my delicate skin. I turn over for the fresh air of the ac as I sigh quietly.

I blink away to see a dark figure near my bed as I stare at it a bit. It's holding what I assume is a small gray camera but it's suddenly disappeared before I get to look at it a little longer. I think my mind was playing tricks as I turned over and didn't think much about it.

I curl over as I pull the blanket over my face, it's a bit unnerving to see something like that out of a horror movie in real life. I should stop watching those true crimes on YouTube as I doze off into sleep.

It was a bright beautiful morning as I stretched out my arms, I yawned out loud as I rub my eyes a bit.

Living in Japan by myself feels refreshed but I miss my home life in my country as I get up to start my early breakfast.

I put my thumb on my lips as I think, I need to study for my college about speaking Japanese and its culture. I smile softly as I play with my hair, I put it into a messy bun.

As I head into the living room to turn on the television for news, I feel a bit isolated about being alone in this apartment but I always thought Japan was such a beautiful place and also it was time for me to start a new chapter for my journey as a foreigner woman.

I begin to prep the potato as I peel it, I look over to see the weather lady talking about a nice sunny day as I smile. It's gonna be nice weather as I wash the peeled potatoes.

It's cut to a news man explaining about an unwanted criminal as I cut it into small pieces.

An unwanted criminal? As I pause the cutting as I begin to look at the TV.

“ an unknown male in his early 20s has been breaking and entering houses, murdering anyone who lives in it. ” I gasp as I hear him speak about the location as I bite my lips, it's close by where I live. It's hard to make out what he is saying since I'm still learning Japanese but he said.

“ The man goes by the night stalker, make sure to lock everything, your windows and doors at night time. ” I tilt my head as I think, it can't be what I saw last night about a dark figure hovering over my bed… no I think it was playing tricks on me.

“ We talked to one of his victims as they explained what he looked like. ”

“ There is a rough sketch of what we assume the criminal looks like. ” it's show a man that has shaggy short hair, sharp eyes, mole and large scar near his lips.

“ If you see this man, call the police immediately!! He is dangerous. ” I slowly realized I was holding my breath as I put my hand on my chest feeling like I couldn't breathe.

I blink fast as I turn it off, the night stalker… he sounds like something that will bring hell his way if you look at him wrong.

I walk away to start the food, I begin to think about it. Hopefully I don't run into him, I shouldn't be worried about this, I'm supposed to enjoy my day.

The meal looks a bit okay but I'll still eat it anyway, I put it down on the plate as I sat down to eat quietly.

I hum about the taste as I put my fingers on my face as I think. Don't think about it, maybe it won't ruin your day.

Suddenly I get a loud bing as I pull my phone out as I read the message.

(#1 bff asshole): hey you awake smiley?

I narrowed my eyes at his message. Katsuki bakugou was my first friend that I made when I came to Japan. We started out as online friends just joking around and now I live in Japan, he wants me to join him in college with his friends as I smile.

The nickname was a bit cheesy as I giggle at it, I remember when we first did a video call he was intimidating when I first saw him but he was a bit polite and he noticed off the bat that I smile too much or whenever I make dumb jokes often so bakugou was blunt in conversation and so smiley was his nickname to me.

(Me): yeah!! I'll be here in bit, gotta eat my breakfast :>

(#1 bff asshole): well hurry up I don't have all day smiley.

Grumpy asshole as I groan at the message.

(Me): hey you… hear about the news today? About an unwanted criminal called night stalker…apparently he's around my location..

There was a long pause as I finished my meal, I got up to clean the dishes a bit.

I walk back towards the phone as the screen lights up.

(#1 bff asshole): … yeah. Are you okay? Do you want me to protect you and be your hero? Don't fall for me tho ;)

I roll my eyes at this as I puff out air.

(Me): eww gross… but in all seriousness, yeah just a bit, I wouldn't mind the others coming to my apartment for a few days.

I close my phone as I begin to head into my room to get dressed, a simple casual outfit would be nice.

I grab my clothes to wear as I bolt to the restroom to take a quick shower.

The water feels nice on my skin as I sigh in relief. I jumped out, quickly dried my hair and did a bit of makeup.

A cute white skirt with a large pink sweater to keep me warm, white leggings and a small bag that looks like a cat.

I quickly get my keys and wallet as I head out to meet bakugou.

Today is gonna be my day and I'll enjoy it with my new friends!!

I stand outside as I begin to lock the door and start to walk away to the fresh air of japan.

[unhappy-last-resort]

Weak (Yandere Kamui X GN Reader ft. Chrome, & Camu)

Part 1 of 2

Warnings: Reader is sick, Kamui is a little crazy, arguing between friends, blood/vital fluid mentioned, angst, drama

A/N: This started as a comfort fic that was supposed to only be 900~1.5k words.

There's a special message left by my cat at the end.

Will be deleted and rewritten

Word Count: 2k

Status: edited

Humans are weak.

He had, and still does believe, that everyone has their own strengths, but now as he looked at your form, haphazardly buried under blankets, an ice pack on your forehead, a collection of medicines and bottled drinks on your nightstand as your body shook again with another round of coughs; he was faced with an indisputable fact and a soul crushing fear.

Humans are weak. A broken leg was something that would take three hours at most to be fixed for him, but for you, it would take six months, or even a year. Worse that the damage could still effect you afterwards. A mere bullet to your stomach and a microscopic virus could equally do as much damage to you- even going as far as to take your life.

Once your delicate body was damaged or broken, it was done, it couldn't be reversed. The best that could be done was help you recover and wait. Wait, wait, wait. And oh how the waiting was driving him crazy.

He found his hands trembling and his mechanical heart drumming against his metal ribs so hard he could sense the tremors it made through his chest and when you lazily turned to look at him, slow blinking and breathing loudly, he smiled as big as he could for you.

Even if he was darkness, he hoped he could be the comfort you needed...even if he lied to you and said he'd protect you yet he failed to protect you from what was ailing you now. He almost wished he was human, maybe if he was, he could take the illness from you and bear it instead. He knows that's not how it works, but- anything would be better than standing here and waiting for you to get better.

You always called him sunshine and told him he brightened up the room, but in reality the sun was you and he was just wraith who longed to have it. You warmed his skin and body up from the inside out, awakening every chord and bolt anew with a burning fire, a fire that grew to the point it becoming an unbearable inferno. You were what he looked forward to seeing each day, he drank your presence like water and breathed your scent like fresh air and when he didn't see you then everything felt wrong like he had missed monthly maintenance or something it honestly drove him crazy sometimes how much he needed you to function, especially when Chrome started putting a monthly limit on how frequently he could go to Gray Ravens lounge.

He said it was for his own good, and he trusts his Captain with his life but, not being able to see you as much as he needed almost made him-

"Kamui?" Your soft, hoarse voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized after a moment what had likely made you call out to him was not a need or a want on your part, but that he was shaking and it was a little too obvious. Releasing a small breath he didn't know he was holding to steady himself, he put on another smile and moved to kneel at your bedside, reaching to cup your face and brush his thumb over your cheek, remembering its feel and texture.

"Don't worry, I'm right here." He whispered softly, attempting to match your voice as relished in how you closed your eyes, how you still found safety and comfort in him despite his failings to protect you. You cough again and he winces, each wrack of your body clawing nails into his heart.

"You're shaking again." You sound like it's taking you so much effort to talk. How could something so small affect you that much?

"Huh? I...am?" He falters, his thumb frozen in it's place as a weight like thousands of rocks settles on his shoulders and drives him into the metal floor. No, you can't see him like this, not now, he needs to be strong in front of you, he needs you to rely on him, he needs you to be with him, he needs you he needs you he needs you he needs you he needs-

Warmth. Your hand. It burns against his synthetic skin like cinders and he leans into it, soaking the coal in your hands and breathing in the smoke deeply, letting it overheat his heart into a dull rhythm before slowly opening his eyes to see you. You looked so concerned, why? Shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?

“Kamui-...It'll be alright, you can go rest.” You stroke his cheek and he wonders if you're also memorizing how it feels to you, but more importantly, why are you asking him to leave you? Is he annoying you? Are you done with him? Did he do something wrong?

“No! No, no, no, I don't wanna leave you! What if you need something? What if you can't get to the bathroom on your own? What if you try to get up and then fall over and hit your head and then you crack your skull because it's made of bone and not metal and-”

“Kamui.” You manage amidst another small coughing fit. “I'll be okay, besides, the Ravens are on their way back.” You say it as if that's a comforting fact, one that he should be happy with, but he feels a tidal wave of different responses surge from his throat, ranging from desperate pleas to keep him with you, to not trusting them enough with you despite knowing full well that they'd rather be turned scrap metal than let you die, but still, he just wants you to choose him over everyone else. Unfortunately, he never gets to voice any of these to you as his terminal rings in that exact moment, and he's tempted to ignore it, to savor the time he has left with you without it being interrupted, but it's his Captain and he promised to pick up when he calls.

Kamui smiles at you again, the grin digging into his cheeks as he slowly rises and answers the call. Immediately, the familiar silhouette of his Captain fills the screen, his blonde hair perfectly combed, uniform freshly ironed, and blue eyes striking, all as usual except...the scene behind him is right outside the Gray Raven lounge annnd he can already feel his vital fluid pressure rising. Instead of greeting his Captain, he closes his terminal and quickly leans down to you, gently stroking your cheek and whispering he'll be back before quietly moving to leave you, each step feeling more painful than the last as he approaches the metal sliding door. With a small sigh, he presses the button to open it and instead of the dull, grey wall and an empty hallway greeting him, instead he sees his Captain, his arm frozen midair, seconds away from pressing the button to open your door.

They stare at one another in frigid silence before Kamui sighs and steps out of your room, the door closing behind him as moves towards the opposite wall. “...Capt, is this really necessary?” He grumbled loudly as he leaned against the wall.

“Kamui.” The narrowed eyes and slight downturn of his Captain's lips was all he needed to know of how badly he had messed up, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be with you! What's so bad about that that everyone has to get in the way? “I am going to remind you once again that I only agreed to let you watch over them temporarily was because you promised-”

Kamui rolls his eyes, already not wanting to be reminded of the stipulations he was made to agree to. “-To keep my hands to myself, not make a fuss, and leave when I'm told, I've heard it a billion times! I did what I promised, so what's the problem?”

Chrome groans loudly and runs his gloved hands through his hair, tugging at his roots and his usually controlled expression twisting into one of pure exhaustion.“Kamui, please give me a break, I cannot do this with you tonight- especially not when you can't even keep the promises that you made!”

Kamui scoffs, how come he's the one acting like he has it tough? Does he have any idea how much it hurts knowing you're suffering and not being able to even stay by your side? Besides! It's not like he would know that he touche- realization hits him like freezing water through his veins that quickly turns into a rolling boil beneath his skin. Immediately he's hit with an almost all-consuming rage, but a glance at your closed door and the thought of you idly staring at the ceiling is enough to make him take a deep breath and whisper through gritted teeth.

“So you don't even trust me anymore? What's next? Are you going to bug me on all our missions from now on too?”

Chrome's nostrils flair, the creases of his frown deepening. He closes his eyes momentarily and takes a long, drawn out breath as if saying a silent prayer before speaking once more, each whispered syllable cutting into Kamui's hearing modules like a needle. “I only did it because you have proven to me, so many times, that you can't be trusted alone with them! And once again, you have proven that to be true!”

Kamui grinds his teeth, the strain on his jaw creating a sound they both can hear clearly in the tense silence of the lounge, his brows drawn together tightly into a scowl. How could he say that? He loves you! He would do anything for you, shouldn't that be more than enough for Chrome to trust him? What right does he have to judge who you're safe around? It must be because he wants you all to himself!

Kamui's fists ball together, his vital fluid pressure rising rapidly. Without spending another moment to think, he jerks forward as Chrome moves backwards, his Inver-Device nicking Chrome's cheek and causing the latter to wince and step farther away.

Chrome lets out something halfway between a grumble and a growl as he covers his cheek, icy blue eyes meet his violet ones, anger and hurt swirling beneath the ice. A short puff of air leaves his lips as he stares at his gloved hand, smears of red staining his cheek.

...

Wait.

That's...

No.

Nononononono-

“Captain...?” Kamui reaches out his hand, the pads of his fingers smearing with vital fluid of his dearest companion. He remembers when they first met, Chrome looked so frigid back then, almost delicate as he stared down at the Strike Hawk dog tag in his hand. His shoulders were slumped downwards as if being weighed down by a weight too heavy for him to bear, and the mist in his eyes hinted at some agony rooted so deeply into his being that he would never be free from it in his life. He had told Camu at that moment that he was going to do his best to help him find happiness.

But now, as he stared at his fingertips stained red by something he did, another fear took over his being and he felt his throat tighten. The room was silent, but Kamui had never heard silence be so loud ever in his life and when Chrome turned and left without sparing him another glance, not even an order to come to the lounge, he felt something crack.

“You did what?!”

“I got angry, okay! If you were in my position you would've-”

“I wouldn't do something that reckless because I wouldn't have let it get to that point!”

“I can live without those guys just fine, but you? You need them too.”

“I know...”

“I'll apologize to him...not now though, I think he needs space.”

“Hmph...From now on, whether we share bodies or not, I'm going to watch over you more carefully so you don't do something so stupid next time. I hope you realize that stunt didn't only jeopardize your relationship with Chrome.”

“If he tells them-”

“I know! I know! I'll talk to them too.”

“Alright, well, before we do anything, let's make a plan. We don't want to make it worse, so just shut up and listen to what I tell you, alright? And no interrupting me!”

(P.S. feedback on this fic would be greatly appreciated)

Whilst writing this perverted doctrine, mine feline lord came and sat upon mine writing utensil and thusly bestowed an artistry which was too profound and beautiful to be left in with mine own measly musings, but I, as her humble servant, do not wish to deprive voracious readers such as thine selves from these words bestowed upon thee by her majesty.

“scfvd5”

Take these words to heart and may thee have a blessed day, thank you for reading.

[blueiight]

IWTV E4 “A Ruthless Pursuit of Blood with All a Child’s Demanding.” Claudia discussing how it feels to escape poverty to being adopted into wealth, struggling in her existence without peers even during her second childhood and how she does not even care to have the veneer of mortal manners around Louis’s family, what Charlie as her last peer meant to her, and her mortal upbringing prior to Lestat + Louis.

And I realized, what I thought was Heaven was just some nice room. And what I thought were angels were really hell demons.

Uncle Les and Daddy Louis were rich. They had nice clothes and a nice auto carriage and a funny way of being nice to each other.

I gotta go to bed when the rest of the world wakes up, so there's less kids to play with...

Daddy Lou said I had been away from people too long. I didn't know how to behave right anymore. But Uncle Les said, I behaved just fine.

Diary, his name is Charlie. He's got veins like rivers. They flow right down his arms. …Charlie's death ushered in one of the darkest eras in our lives. The oh-so-delicate balance of our oh-so-delicate household was shattered. For Claudia, all humans died with Charlie.

And, diary, you'd think a girl whose mama died in childbirth... whose daddy gave her away to a mean old auntie who beat her 'cause no one said she couldn't, who died in a fire but came back by the blood magic of two demons, well, you'd think that girl wouldn't know what funny was. But you'd be wrong, diary. And if I told you, dumb diary, that that same girl was being raised to kill like her demon parents did, to take two souls a day so she could stay in the same flat-chested, hairless-crotched 14-year-old baby doll body as her mind and spirit turn 19, 20, 25, 63, 358, you dumb, dumb diary, I bet you'd say to anyone who'd listen, "Fun? Fun? How does she even get up in the morning?" Well, let me tell you something, you stuck-up, flower-covered, three-dollar fancy fսcking paper diary, I'm doin' just fine. (diary pages read aloud as Claudia self harms at the end of e4)

IWTV E5 “A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart”. Claudia discussing her life/reckoning with the fate of her premature existence.

"Dear Diary, am I gonna be a virgin every single time I do it? Won't my skin down there grow back like my hair does when I cut it?"

Who am I supposed to love? You two have each other. Who's my Lestat? Who's my Louis? I’m not human. What human would want me? Perverts? Like the uncle at the roomin' house who used to watch me pee? Or little boys? And 40 years from now... still little boys? How are you gonna fix it, huh?… (turns to Louis) [Lestat] treats us like shit and you just take it! And you, [turns to Lestat] cruel as the devil ever made, to deny me one love when you’ve got two.

[Talking to Louis in her room after the confrontation at the dinner table] I remember the night I was made, the fire chokin' me, you carryin' me out through the flame and the smokes. But then why'd you take me home? Why not a hospital? …. But I was breathin'! Maybe I'd have a handsome husband by now. Or maybe he'd be plain but with a good disposition. That'd be fine, too. I'd be sweepin' floors, makin' dinners, nursin' babies. Maybe I'd go to church. You think on that some.

How does Claudia react after her rape? She exhibits textbook behaviors.

Co-dependency.

I spend time following Louis and Lestat now that I am my own woman... with no obvious sense of why I follow them, other than meaning slowly disintegrates without them...My companions in immortality.

but wait.. u might ask: doesn’t this contradict what she said years earlier in this same episode about wanting ‘her own Lestat and Louis’? is this Louis or Armand somehow forging Claudia’s diary? or is this a rape victim shortly after the actual experience struggling with her emotional+ mental state and in that frame of mind going back to the immortal family she finds to be a more familiar sort of ‘evil’ than the unknown vampire that raped her, especially after witnessing Louis weep over the grave Grace made of him? to Claudia here, being Louis’s ‘sister’ is balm put onto a bleeding wound.

Hypervigilance over her wider situation ad an Enmeshment with Louis, as they both have endured incredibly traumatizing events (with Claudia being raped + shortly after, witnessing Louis being beaten) and are without Lestat for six years following the end of E5 picking up the pieces. it is Claudia who tends to Louis in his most vulnerable here, and Louis struggles with that, wanting to be ‘her knight in vengeful black’ in return.

She's grown very protective of me. That's what this is. It's why it's hard. She came back altered when she left us. There's a darkness in her that wasn't there before. Give her a little time. [Louis is trying to appease Lestat here in their ‘compromise’, but there is a key bit of truth in his observations here.]

Claudia learned very early on, as early as E4 when Louis asked her mentally about Charlie, how to block her mind off from Louis. and with her traumatic experiences, its all but said that hypervigilance protects her mind further (as shown in the S2 trailer when Armand comments on it). When Lestat steals her from off the train, he also threatens her:

Because if you try this again, Claudia, I won't snap your leg, defile your pocket, and zoom off on a motorbike. I'll turn your bones to dust.

Is it any wonder Claudia draws the comparison to Bruce when she talks to Louis, especially when Louis in the season finale plays the role of a honey trap to the very same lover who almost ‘killed Louis’, as Claudia [and Daniel alike] frame the ending of E5 as abuse + attempted murder, as Claudia seethes , is ‘done enduring?’ and just before she creates her own murder plan:

Or did you kill him, like you did Antoinette, and how you tried to do with Louis?

I have to wonder why, over a year from airing, blogs and reviews claiming to be dedicated to the series rehash the most juvenile questions that the episodes themselves directly answer? How can S2 spec or complex discussion occur, if callout PSAs shutting down any sort of canon-compliant discussion is the way to go? If people constantly exhibit their refusal to meet the show where its at and engage the material for what it is, where can we go from here? AMC IWTV is very didactic. ‘The absence of metaphor is striking’. Yet for all the waxing about loving ‘fucked-up gothic romance’, there is a willful ignorance in understanding where & what makes the situation fucked up to begin with. Or even an interest in understanding the basics of the setting!

[bolliancat]

And here I am again with another wave of inspiration. And yes, I like to suffer while writing.

This was inspired by a chat with Copia on c.ai

—————————————♡—————————————

Cardinal Copia x gn!Reader

W: hurt/comfort

A little sad moment in the life of our Cardinal, but he isn't alone anymore.

—————————————♡—————————————

He's so cute, I can't-

Just Copia

He is so tired of being a Cardinal. Of being treated like a tool. Like he wasn't a human.

Everyone in that place did it to him, except you. For you, he was just Copia. A human with feelings and desires, and you respected him. You respected his human side. You don't see just a tool in him.

That's why he's searching for you now. Nihil had, again, said that he was weak and unable to stay on the ministry if he kept having feelings. And you are his safe place inside of that mess.

He's almost desperate in his steps. He wants to cry, but he wants to do it with you holding him. He doesn't want to feel alone again.

He found you in the place he knew you would be. In the library.

It scared you how he ran to you and hugged you tightly, making you let the book fall on the ground.

"Hey... what's wrong?" You asked softly, hugging him back as he cried on your shoulder.

"I-... it w-was Nihil..." he whispered quietly, holding you like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

"He yelled at you again?" You asked and he nodded, crying on your shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He took a few seconds before shaking his head and burying his face on the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling your skin.

You respected it, staying in silence and giving him the physical touch he so deeply craved in that moment. You caressed his back, feeling how he melted under your touch.

After a few minutes, he was calmer. "You are not a tool. Remember it." You whispered. He sniffled and nodded slowly.

"Y-you make me feel..." he started, his voice muffled on your neck. "I c-can be just Copia... when I'm with you..." he murmured, closing his eyes as he lay his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, relieved to hear that. A smile slowly appeared on your face as you stroked his back. "You're not alone, Copia." You said, placing a kiss on his head.

He melted even more under your kiss, feeling like he was the luckiest man right now. You smiled. Poor man, he was so touch-starved.

"Do you want to sit down? I think it'll be more comfortable." He nodded, reluctantly pulling away as you led him towards a large couch.

You sit down on the couch, waiting for him to sit by your side.

"M-may I... may I try something new..?" He asked, blushing and looking away. "Only if you f-feel comfortable..."

You nodded as he looked at you. He slowly sits on the couch, putting his legs on it and laying down to rest his head on your lap. You chuckled softly, placing your hands on his hair and caressing his scalp.

He smiled at you, feeling relieved that you liked it. His face was a mess. His makeup was ruined with his tears. You slowly used your fingers to clean where shouldn't be black paint.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your delicate fingers on his face.

After a few minutes — you made it last longer than it would be — you finished cleaning his face. It wasn't perfect, but it made you smile proudly.

He opened his eyes, mismatched eyes looking at you. "Thank you," he whispered.

You caressed his cheek, smiling at him. "You're more than welcome, Copia." It made his heart melt even more. It was not Cardinal. You didn't called him by his title. You called him by his name. By who he was. And it made him smile sweetly at you.

With you, he was just Copia.

—————————————♡—————————————

Our poor man, I love him sm

Hope you liked it ♡

[dinoplantsghost]

pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, one or two racist comment(s) and mention of n@z!s, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of Walpurgisnacht and Christianity, there's probably more but idk

word count: ~4515

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- okay now this one kind of eats, I just skimmed through it and I lowkey forgot I wrote this

Chapter List

The Knights of Walpurgis [7]

13:15 - Wednesday 18th

Tracy had bumped into Saoirse during their shared free period before lunch, his lips not in their usual smile when he dragged her off campus to a bench near the Black Lake. 

He was concerned about his friends—or ‘their’ friends, as he had phrased it. For once, Saoirse understood what it was like to “be in the know” and be part of a unit of people. 

“I tried talking to Ava,” he sighed. “But she gets all emotional whenever I bring it up; I just want to understand what happened, but I guess I get why she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe it was bad or something.” 

“Griffin was telling me something about it after the first Quidditch match, although very vaguely. He was mostly talking to himself, it seemed like.” 

“Really? I’m surprised, considering how much he didn’t like you when I first introduced you to each other.” Tracy leaned back, his brows furrowed as a hand reached up to pinch at his delicate skin. “What did he say?” 

Saoirse shrugged. “In all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m not used to comforting people and he was too busy crying to really say anything interesting or important.”

Despite her insistence that she didn’t remember much, Saoirse went into detail about how Eugene had wept over Ava-Lynn and how she “broke his heart.” She always took the opportunity to talk her mouth off. 

Tracy, usually thirsty for drama and all of its wondrous theatrical moments, paused. “Eugene and Ava? Together? I don’t believe it,” he huffed. “Ava’s a great person with strong morals. And I mean, Eugene is my friend and all, but…” 

Saoirse shrugged once more. He clearly knew them better than her and yet he was just as confused.

The boy shook his head, his shaggy hair hitting his cheeks as he rubbed his eyelids. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think Ava would have told me that even if I threatened her; I would be embarrassed too. But also, there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.”  Tracy pulled his legs up, sitting tailor-fashioned on the bench, smearing mud and grass on his trousers. “You know we share Defense classes, right,” he asked. “Because I’ve seen you hanging out with those guys lately—the ones from Slytherin. If you were smarter, you’d stop talking to them.” 

Saoirse frowned. “That’s exactly what Patrick said about you and Griffin the other day. He said any friend of Griffin’s isn’t good.” 

“Well, that nerd is a hypocrite,” he scoffed. “Every one of his friends, including him, is a no good, snotty, rich boy raised on outdated ideals. They’re no better than the Nazis we hear about from the Muggle war.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought. 

“But Patrick is really nice,” she argued. “He told me that he hates the Sacred Twenty-Eight; he wants nothing more than to be on his own when he finishes school.” 

“He’s obviously lying. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.” 

“What do you mean? What apple?” 

“Nevermind,” he groaned. Tracy stood from the bench, doing nothing to wipe off the grim from his uniform. “Forget what I said; it’s an idiom you don’t get yet. But either way, don’t come running to me when that group decides to throw you to the side, Saoirse.” 

It was not until lunchtime did Tracy try to talk to Saoirse again. After their conversation at the bench, the boy left in frustration since she did not understand why he disliked Patick when he had Eugene Griffin as a friend. In her eyes, he had no right telling her who to be around when that Hufflepuff student was clearly just as bad. 

When lunch rolled around, she didn’t entertain his attempts at conversation because she was too busy scratching at arithmancy work that was due within the next hour or so. Saoirse wasn’t horrible at mathematics, per se; it’s the way symbols and numbers danced around on the tree pulp that annoyed her. Mahoutokoro had a different way of calculating things, and Arithmancy was completely separate from what she was formally taught from a young age. Saoirse still had a hard time handling a quill, and her handwriting needed to be small so each equation could fit nicely on the same page. Her eyes also strained if she looked at her work for too long, which is one of many reasons she was currently sitting at the Ravenclaw lunch table alone, her back curled over as she scribbled away slowly. With each snag her quill hit on the parchment and each ink bubble that burst and melted into her skin, she felt closer to committing another murder. Maybe it would be better if it was her that was dying this time around. 

Luckily, she was able to finish the assignment in time. Arithmancy class always went by faster than her brain processing every little thing she wrote. By the time she was out of the classroom and following her peers down the hall like a school of fish, her thumb had difficulty flexing and stretching out her fingers did not get rid of the tense feeling in her hand. 

As she walked into Merrythought’s classroom, Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose to numb the throbbing pain in her head as she plopped down next to Patrick, who fortunately recovered just fine after the start of the month. 

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You’re pinching your nose again.” 

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out a small glass container with clumpy circles of brown. The boy gave one to Saoirse, a thin layer of sugar melting from the warmth of her palm. “My family gets these Godiva treats every time we visit Belgium,” he explained. “We’re not supposed to do this at school, but I infuse the share I get with soothing elixirs I make in my spare time. I have this thing called astigmatism, so I get headaches and migraines often.” 

She took a small bite, her front teeth sore from the sweet’s brittleness. “It’s very sweet,” she muttered. “Almost too sweet…”

Patrick blushed, embarrassed that Saoirse didn’t like it. “Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it all! I’m sorry you don’t like it!”

She waved a hand. “No, I will,” she replied. “I’m just not used to it. I like it.” 

As the girl took another bite, she was unaware of the smear of crumbs on the corner of her mouth. Without another thought, Patrick cupped her cheek, flicking flecks of almond and caramelized sugar. 

Eloise, along with the other Knights, made a noise of discomfort. “Get a room,” he whined. “No one wants to see that, Patrick.” 

The Austrian boy froze, pulling his touch away from Saoirse’s cheek dusted in pink and red.  “Sorry…”

───────────

The Transfiguration Professor was odd. In her mind, he resembled the many (old as fuck) men she saw in Japan, though he was not nearly as old. He always wore lavender robes, and insisted on speaking in a way that drove her to insanity. Albus Dumbledore, the Head of the Gryffindor House, always spoke softly. He spoke so delicately, in fact, that his breath would slip through the little gap in his front teeth, causing his speech to have a whistle throughout. It sounded like a fork dragging against a porcelain plate, a sound she only recently discovered her first night in the Great Hall. 

When Dumbledore asked Saoirse to speak to him during her free time after Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wanted to bang her head against a desk. She had heard stories about him from Merrythought. He had a male lover that he was enemies with, apparently. 

“I hope Hogwarts has been to your liking,” the old man said. “I’m sure your former school was very enchanting. I’ve always wanted to visit Mahoutokoro, you see.” 

“Hogwarts has been very kind to me, sir, much better than Mahoutokoro.” 

“Wonderful! It’s always good to see the positive in every change and shift in life, after all. Now, how are you doing socially? Any friends? Like that Mayfield boy, Tracy.” 

“I’m not that close to Mayfield. I would consider him more of an acquaintance; I believe that is the word.”

Dumbledore hummed, his eyes twinkling as he fiddled with his beard. “I see…Are you having trouble finding eagles to group with, dear?”

Saoirse shook her head. “No, sir, I just find myself around Patrick Nott and his group more often.” 

The man sighed. He plucked his eyewear from his wobbling nose, wiping the grime off with a smooth cloth. “Saoirse, dear, the reason I have pulled you aside is because I am worried,” he frowned. “And while you are an eagle rather than a lion, it is my duty as an adult and a teacher to make sure every student is doing well. Now, I say this out of the concern from your friend—no, your acquaintance, as you referred to him. Mister Mayfield only wants the best for you, as do I.” 

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mister Mayfield has told me of the group you surround yourself with, Saoirse, and with my own eyes I can say with a full heart that these boys will give you nothing but trouble.” 

He leaned against his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at the Japanese girl with a sorrowful expression. “I fear Saoirse, amongst that group of Slytherins, is a boy who is too dark, too far into his ambitions to be deemed safe. He is dangerous. Any involvement with him will throw you off a path of light and good.” 

The girl craned her neck. She was sure her face was stuck with her lip pulling at the corner, her eyes darting around to avoid the old man’s gaze. “Professor,” she laughed. “I can assure you that none of them are ‘dangerous.’ They’re teenage boys that are driven by hormones, food, and sports.” 

“No,” Dumbledore argued. “You’re not understanding, Saoirse. Amongst those boys is a tortured soul, one that cannot be healed or fixed by any means. Mister Mayfield came to me in hopes that you would realize the dangers these Slytherins put you in.” 

Saoirse crossed her arms, scoffing. Mayfield was hardly any character to throw his opinion into her life. “With all due respect sir, I barely know Mayfield and he barely knows those boys. Patrick and his friends are nothing but dumb airheads, especially that Riddle kid; he drives me insane.” 

“In what way?”

“That boy needs to be humbled,” she sighed. “He’s brash. He thinks he has this authority over everyone. He’s really not all that.” 

“Would you care to elaborate,” Dumbledore pushed. “While Tom is destined for greatness, that is for sure, the boy is very troubled.” 

The girl was silent, her jaw tensing in thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” she drawled. “I hardly think it’s my place to speak of Riddle’s issues, especially when I couldn’t care any less.” Saoirse stood from her chair, letting the legs scratch against the wooden floor of the man’s office. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my free time before History of Magic.” 

Ignoring Dumbledore’s demanding gaze, Saoirse’s legs took a stride out of his office and away from his classroom. She glided through each hallway, twisting and turning each corner as her mind honed in on the plans forming in her head. 

She had every reason to stick by those boys in green, to keep an eye on that sick fuck who took his “friends” for granted. It wasn’t hard to see how the others were strangled around his finger. Considering Rosier’s speech the night she was informed of their little club, it only confirmed the rumors she had heard, most of them from Mayfield. And while she never had friends before, it wasn’t rocket science to have basic human decency. 

But she was curious, so fucking curious as to why Riddle seemed to have put it upon himself to carry the burdens of an entire aristocratic group of blue bloods. According to Patrick, Riddle was never a name within the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was a nobody, to put it simply. Yet somehow, by some miracle, he was at the center of some of Europe’s powerful heirs of their generation. 

There was darkness in the boy; that was something she could agree on with Dumbledore. During her spar in Merrythought’s classroom, Riddle was cold and calculated, but he was easily aggravated—”trigger happy” is what Patrick called it. Riddle gets jealous whenever the spotlight trails off him, causing a controlled temper tantrum of sorts in order to regain his title as the model student. 

It didn’t take long for her feet to drag all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. The password slipped past her lips, and she ignored the harsh stares from those in green as she looked for the familiar door with the number ‘13’ on it. 

The door swung open, Miles Lestrange leaning against the frame with crossed arms. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he isn’t here,” he smirked. “Patrick’s in the library, as usual.” 

“I’m not looking for Patrick, I’m looking for Riddle. What’s his door number?” 

Lestrange curled a brow in interest, pushing himself off the door frame as he mused, “Oh? You’re already bored of Florian? How rude of you, Saoirse.” 

“Florian?” 

“Yeah, that’s Patrick’s middle name.” He ran a hand through his curls. “Anyways, why do you need Tom?” 

“I just need to talk to him,” she frowned. 

Miles sighed, “His door number is seven; he rooms with ‘Brax, Louis, and Cass’.” 

With a small thanks, Saoirse retraced her steps, eyes dancing to the bold, black number on teak wood. The girl did not have many hopes of speaking to the boy today, but when she rapped her knuckles on the door, it was quick to snap open and make her jump out of her skin. 

It was odd to see Riddle in simpler clothing. He didn’t have his robe on, nor his gray sweater vest. Instead, he only wore the Oxford shirt all students were required to wear, along with his green and silver tie that hung loose under his collar. He did not speak, expecting Saoirse to have words roll off her tongue with ease, only to realize her eyebrows were crumpled up as she gathered her English. 

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he uttered, a breath of annoyance flushing past his nostrils. “Midterms are coming up; you should be studying instead of wandering off.” 

When the girl stayed silent, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before he could slam the door, however, she spoke: 

“Let me join that stupid club of yours, Riddle.” 

Tom froze, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing as he turned on the ball of his foot. “Whatever Nott told you is none of your business.” 

“It became my business when you beat up the poor boy for rightfully spending his free time with whomever he chooses. Besides, he was following your dumb orders regardless.” 

Tom yanked Saoirse by her collar, throwing her inside the vacant dorm. The door finally slammed shut, the flame from the fireplace flickering against his high cheekbones and set jaw. 

“What did those idiots tell you,” he demanded through clenched teeth. It didn’t take long for the distance between the teens to close, Tom’s long legs taking strides to push Saoirse against the beam of Cassius’ four-poster bed. 

“They told me everything.”

“Really, everything?” 

“Everything they wanted to tell me before Orion demanded that I get some sleep.”

Saoirse hated how tall the boy was. People were rarely his height in Mahoutokoro, but it seemed like European genetics had these boys shooting for the stars. Through her lashes and frames, she could see how flared his nose was, how his lip was in permanent disgust at the thought of her being in his presence. 

Hesitant, Saoirse forced her tongue away from her inner cheek as she spoke, “Dumbledore spoke to me a while back…He seemed weirdly obsessed with you. I just wanted to know why.” 

Apparently, the mere mention of the man was enough to set the boy off. His eyes flashed with anger, perhaps even fear, but it was difficult to tell when Tom distanced himself from the girl to pace around the middle of the room. 

“What,” she smirked. “Do you have a secret affair with him or something? Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen such a—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. He turned to face her, a finger pointed in her direction as he pressed, “What did he say to you?” 

“I may or may not have spoken of you in a negative light,” she shrugged. “Dumbledore was trying to ask what I knew of you, which isn’t much.” 

Saoirse sighed, taking off her frames to rub her tired eyes. She sat down on Mulciber’s bed, letting her legs hang from the side as she laid down on his unmade sheets. “Whatever you’re trying to do with the Chamber of Secrets, It’s obvious that he knows.” She ignored the noise that came from his throat. “Senile men are a lot smarter than people would like to think; more deceitful as well.” 

She was met with silence, with the occasional crackling from the logs under the fire. 

“I don’t see the point in you being a Knight,” Tom said. “You’re only doing this for Nott.” 

“So,” she questioned. “You would be getting more out of your posse if I joined, regardless of my reasons. You would make a pretty shitty cult leader if you didn’t take advantage of your members, you know.” 

“And what makes you think the Knights of Walpurgis isn’t already a cult?”

The ashes under the flame fluttered, logs crumbling further down in prolonged silence. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

TR~S 

Saoirse did not know what to expect when she followed three boys in the middle of the night. After Astronomy class, Tom guided her, along with Patrick and Mulciber, up the castle. She never really got used to the moving stairs, but by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Saoirse’s head was already spinning and her hands clung onto Nott’s arm. 

The four of them moved quickly, footsteps light against the limestone flooring. Corner after corner, corridor after corridor, the teens finally stopped in the middle of a fork. Tom, the self-appointed line leader, walked up to the towering wall in front of them before pacing back and forth. Soon, the floor received residual shocks as the wall shook and split in the middle to open up. 

Patrick nudged Saoirse along, shutting her slack jaw with a forefinger. “You’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, Schatzi.” 

Seeing the girl in awe of one of the many hidden treasures Hogwarts had to offer, Cassius slapped a friendly hand to her back. “You’ll get used to it,” he chuckled. “I remember when we first found the Come-and-Go Room; our buddy Patrick here had the same reaction. You two are cute together, by the way.”

“Don’t say that,” hissed Patrick, his glasses fogged and his ears red. “Saoirse, Cassius doesn’t mean that at all, he’s just joking!”

The foreigner only smiled, amused by how Patrick’s eyebrows always curled whenever he was nervous. She followed the boys inside, craning her neck to inspect the castle’s magical and ever-changing architecture once more. Saoire always loved buildings, especially those built in the period of Gothic architecture. She loved how stained windows had become popular then, and she especially loved the Biblical iconography of the Christian faith, how it drowned cathedrals and other buildings in symbolism. 

Saoirse was pulled out of her trance by Patrick again, leading her to an ellipse-shaped table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Mulciber attempting to do the same for Rosier, only for his burly hands to be swatted away by his friend. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Tom drawled. “Patrick, if you could start the meeting.”

The boy in question nodded, his eyes fierce behind his perched frames. He stood, his chair scraping against the tile before he spoke, “The date is Thursday, November 19th, 1942. The time is 1:29 in the morning. All members are present and accounted for, along with one guest.” He glanced down at Saoirse, who had her eyes set on his figure the entire time. “The Knights of Walpurgis’ second meeting of the fall term is now in session.” 

Tom thanked Patrick with a wave of his hand, allowing the boy to sit down before speaking. He stayed standing, opting to pace at the head of the table.  “As you can see, men, we have a willing candidate to become our next knight.” 

With each word he spoke, Tom held onto the boys’ attention; moths to a raging flame. Their backs were straight, hands in their lap as they kept their heads high and their loyalty even higher. Saoirse had never seen Avery so serious before. 

“It has also come to my attention,” Tom mused. “That Dumbledore is attempting to thwart our plans once more. But do not worry; we have gotten past his insistence before.” He gestured a hand to Saoirse, signaling her to rise from her seat. “The girl has been in our presence for long enough, it seems. Saoirse, do you understand what the Knights of Walpurgis stand for?” 

She could only shrug. “I have some semblance of a mission, I guess.” 

“The origins of our name, the Knight of Walpurgis, comes from the holiday of Walpurgisnacht,” Patrick explained. “Walpurga was a saint long ago, known for battling diseases and witchcraft. She converted many people to Christianity and was sought after for protection against our practices. The holiday lasts from April 30th to May 1st, commemorating her canonization as a saint.

“We reclaimed the meaning of Walpurgisnacht. Just as she protected those from witchcraft and magic, we want to protect those from Muggles and their violent attempts at eliminating our populations. We, the Knights of Walpurgis, want to eliminate non magic folk, just as Muggle have done to us in the past in a similar fashion.” 

It made sense, Saoirse thought. However, surely not every Muggle had the same opinions. She turned to Tom, questions pooling in her mind. “So what does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

“As I’m sure the boys have told you,” he responded. “The Chamber is said to hold the very monster Salazar Slytherin planned to use himself. Our main problem is that the Chamber cannot be located.” 

“And you’ve checked everywhere?” 

“Yes, we’ve checked the library, asked people in the Sacred Twenty-Eight; there is nothing.” 

“Hogwarts: A History has a section on Salazar Slytherin, albeit small. It said that he was a Parselmouth and apparently, only those from his direct bloodline can inherit this ability. Maybe that’s why it can’t be found.” 

It was like a lightbulb had gone off—though, lightbulbs were made by Muggles, and electricity barely made sense to the Pureblood heirs. Eloise downed the drink in front of him—presumably alcohol— slamming his glass down to the table in fervor. 

“I knew Asians were smart,” he laughed. “But not this smart! It makes so much sense!” Eloise turned to Tom, arms outstretched in excitement. “Tom—sorry, my Lord, you’re a direct descendant of Salazar!” 

Saoirse ignored the weird title. Maybe they had a similar hierarchy system here, like Japan. 

“Yes, Avery, that’s an amazing observation.” Tom smiled ugly, stopping any laughter from bubbling in Avery’s throat. “Obviously I’ve thought of that, you idiot.”

It made sense now. That’s why Riddle was accepted into the group so easily. But still, as Saoirse picked at the chipped and frayed wood of the table, her mind could not wrap around the fact that the boy’s surname held no importance, no connection to any Pureblood family. Even with that information, it also wasn’t plausible for his status to be anything but Pureblood; his lineage made sure of that.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough,” smiled Miles. “After all, we have until the end of fall term.” 

“Which families were closest to Slytherin’s descendants,” Saoirse asked. “Surely there has to be something in an office or study.” 

“We’ve tried that,” Abraxas frowned. “We even asked MIles’ mum, who practically knows everyone in Europe. The next family that would be closest would be mine, but I’ve been looking since last summer; my father has nothing.” 

Tom spoke, his words carrying hopeful encouragement to his lackeys. “That is why I have decided to bring you tonight, Saoirse. With your foreign knowledge, we could broaden our horizons.” 

The girl could only shift in her seat to cross her arms and legs. “You really think Salazar Slytherin brought a creature from Japan all the way to the middle of nowhere in Scotland?” The look in his eyes gave everything away to her; he knew it was a stretch, too. “Look,” she sighed. “Japan really only has spirits and demons. There’s nothing I can think of that would have that much power. Sure, there are yōkai that look like snakes, which seems like something Slytherin would be particular about, but again, like I said; nothing from Japan could have the type of power to kill entire populations.” 

“Well, no matter,” he sighed. “It is just as Miles said: we have until the end of the fall term.” Tom waved an arm, prompting the girl to stand up and make her way to his side. “I’m sure you’re tired, Saoirse. It’s not usual to be up this late in the night. Before you leave, though, it is customary for all Knights to be…inducted, if you will. If I could have your left arm, please.”

───────────

“Which one of you thought it was good for the girl to know of our plans?” Tom sighed for the umpteenth time, his stomach churning with disappointment as none of the boys sitting before him could get a word out in full confidence. 

“It was Eloise,” Abraxas tensed. “He accidentally told Saoirse about the Chamber, but Orion eventually convinced her to join for Patrick’s sake.” 

Surprisingly, Tom did not blow up towards Avery’s mistake. “Orion, good job,” he mused. “This is very pleasant to hear. I’m glad to know that at least one of you knows how to seize an opportunity, the behavior of a true Slytherin.” 

It was very rare for Tom to throw compliments. If he praised you, then he was just a smidge happy; if he was happy, then there was a lesser chance of him being mad. No one liked when he was mad. If you could gain Tom’s acknowledgement, you were given the highest doses of immunity one could obtain. 

In the eyes of his followers, gaining merciful immunity was the ultimate goal, even if it meant sabotaging those closest to you.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

[anjaelle]

White Light | Part VII

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pairing: Ghost!Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Black!Reader Warnings: Language, mentions of previously un shown sex, mentions of blood and death Word Count: 2K Summary: Some questions get answered. But what comes next?

[Part I] | [Part II] | [Part III] | [Part IV] | [Part V] | [Part VI] | [☁Masterpost ☁] | [♫The Crimson Zombies Mixtape ♫]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was nearly one in the afternoon, and you were just waking up.

You couldn't remember the details of the dream you had. You just remember darkness and the eerie sound of shallow breathing. You couldn't quite place where it was coming from. It felt like it was all around you, no matter how much you turned.

And then you felt kisses trailing down the valley of your back. You could hear the chirping of birds and peeked open one eye to bright sunlight peeking through the blinds.

In the back of your mind, you could still hear the shallow breaths. But they were quickly pushed away by the feeling of calloused fingers gently tracing circles into your shoulder blades.

You felt your cheeks warm up at the memory of the night before. Two thoughts crossed your mind at once: First, you crossed a major boundary and you knew there would be consequences. Nature would have your ass on a platter. Second, you felt so much weaker. It wasn't quite the same level of hungover you felt the last time, but you felt like you could barely move. Like all the energy had been pulled from you. You remembered hearing his heartbeat. You felt his pulse thrum under the delicate skin of his throat when you pulled him in for a deep kiss. And you could remember the grip of his hands on you when he got down on his knees and buried his head between your thighs. You glanced over at the windowsill, noting the lonely wine glass and chipped paint and acknowledging the macabre irony of fucking a man in the same spot he died.

You felt...off.

"How did you get this scar?" Aaron suddenly asked. His voice had a subtle gruffness to it, like he'd just woken up from sleep.

"I cut myself on a fence when I was a kid," you explained after clearing your throat, "I was riding a scooter and I fell into the fence wiring."

He sucked air between his teeth, empathetically.

"Ouch." He paused for a beat and then said, "I remember seeing kids and their Razor scooters riding all over the city. Started outnumbering skateboards at one point."

You giggled, "You sound like an old man."

He ran his fingers along your back as if they were the strings of an acoustic guitar, pausing only to chuckle at your teasing.

"I'm supposed to be an old man, technically." You turned just in time to watch as Aaron stretched out beside you on your bed like he'd worked a 12 hour shift and hadn't slept in years. Your eyes lingered on new scars that you hadn't noticed before, decorating his elbows and fists. You noticed a few birthmarks along his torso, and you reached out to touch them.

He felt warm.

It was fascinating watching the way he seemed to navigate the space like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn't permanently stuck in 2003, and like he hadn't died at all. Maybe it was all an illusion. A trick of the mind. Or you were dreaming.

"Do you ever think about the fact that there was period when we were alive at the same time?" You suddenly said.

He didn't say anything, but he let out a low hum in thought. It was the first time it ever occured to either of you that you could've crossed paths at least once before.

"I'd like to think that in another life," he admitted, "you'd probably run into me in the street somewhere."

You couldn't help the grin that pulled at your lips, "You'd probably be an absolute DILF in that alternate timeline."

He laughed. It was the liveliest laugh you'd ever heard from him which surprised you, but caused a giggle to bubble out of you. His bright eyes crinkled in the corners, and you swore you could see joy radiating from every inch of his face.

"What's so funny?"

"I just didn't expect you to say that."

You reached over to push his hair away from his forehead, "I'm just surprised you know what the term DILF means, considering you're old and all."

Aaron rolled his eyes, "I know what MILF means. I can use context clues. I'm not that old."

You yawned, tucking your hand under your cheek on your pillow, "Okay, grandpa."

He watched you curiously as you meandered around the apartment over the course of the day. You looked exhausted. You had a muted exuberance about you that concerned him. And as he reached out to rub your shoulder, he was surprised at cool your skin was.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, "just tired."

It'd been well over an hour since you slowly pulled yourself out of bed and started your day. You seemed completely out of it. You pulled your book and laptop from the shelf and slowly shuffled back over to your bedside desk. He wandered to the window, leaning against the ledge and looking you over with concern.

"So are we just not gonna talk about what happened?" He asked, crossing his arms.

You rested your head in your hand, keeping your attention on your notebook.

"We fucked," you said plainly, "I don't know how it happened. But it did. Somehow you're corporeal form is quite real here. Maybe I did some mystical...fucking...necromancy with my vagina. I don't have the answers. I'm trying."

You swallowed hard. He could see concern on your face, but deep down he felt a little hurt and confused by the sudden switch in demeanor.

"You regret it."

"No," you immediately countered. When you finally looked at him, he could see exhaustion and fear in your eyes, but also the flicker of something else entirely. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know."

"If you do, it's okay."

"I don't," you said firmly, "I just don't know what happens next. I feel like there's a guillotine over my head. I don't know what to do here."

He glanced down at the painted wood under his hands and absentmindedly picked at the chipped paint while you spoke.

"I don't regret it either," he admitted, shrugging, "I'd do it again if I could. But not if it hurts you."

This conversation felt so childish, he thought to himself. Like two teenagers who fumbled around in the backseat and got caught. He would laugh if the circumstances weren't so dire.

"I felt a heartbeat," he said, pulling a large chip of white paint off of the wood, "Did you feel it too?"

"Kind of."

"You were way too calm about it."

"I was kind of distracted."

You said nothing else, but he could tell that the gears were whirring in that pretty head of yours. He heard the rapid click of the keys and the scribble of pen on paper.

He scraped more paint off of the windowsill when something caught his eye. Etched under layers of paint, he noticed a small arrow carved into the wood. He pulled more paint off, exposing another arrow intersecting the first. If he could feel his heartbeat again, he knew it'd be thrumming like crazy. He jumped down from the ledge, fingering the etching with a shaking hand.

"Wait..." he suddenly said, mumbling to himself, "Wait, wait, wait....wait. No, that's...that can't fucking be it."

"What is it?"

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife he could find and rushed back to the windowsill to find you standing there, staring like he had 6 heads.

"Are you really about to carve up my window?" You groaned, "I won't get the deposit back."

"No, babe look." He excitedly pointed at the arrow carving in the wood panel that he'd exposed after lifting the paint. "That thing. That carving. It--I did that. Me and the boys did that."

You looked mildly intrigued, but didn't fully understand the excitement. You raised your brows and gave him a tired smile.

"Oh!"

You weren't getting it. He started rapidly lifting more chips of paint, forming a small pile on your floor.

"Listen, me and the boys did this thing--it was a stupid thing, but listen we were all sloshed and just did dumb things--but if I'm right about this--I think I know why I'm stuck here."

You still weren't fully understanding where he was going with this, but he rapidly pulled off the paint like a madman.

"What do you mean? What thing?" You were mildly irritated enough as it was, but you wanted to understand where he was going with this.

You peeked over his shoulder to see that he'd been rapidly peeling off half of the paint off of your windowsill. Your initial thought was how much you'd hate having to put the paint back on, but you watched him work anyway.

"We spent a ton of nights just being fuckin' plastered and the old guy downstairs hated us because we kept being loud. So we used to do stupid shit because we couldn't be arsed to make him like us. We just stopped trying. He used to try to get us kicked out for drugs and shit, but--look, my point is we had this plan to put all of our shit in this secret hole just in case they tried to find our stuff."

His mouth was going at a mile a minute, and you tried to follow through the excitement of the conversation. But, again, you were lost.

"Aaron, slow down and tell me what you're looking for."

"We had a secret thing in this window. I completely forgot about it and I thought they found it and fixed the hole but..."

He was about to speak when you heard the subtle clicking of a loose wood panel that was covered over by layers and layers of paint.

"Yes!" He shouted, pumping a fist in the air. As he wedged the knife under the panel to loosen it, a thin slab of wood popped up revealing a small treasure trove of junk.

A few coins. Some unidentifiable pills. A piece of string.

A dark lock of hair held together by a small paper clip.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He whispered.

You felt like he was having a conversation with himself.

"What is that?" You asked, grimacing. He repeatedly reached to try and grab it, but it slipped through his fingers. It was the first time you'd seen that happen to him within the confines of the apartment. He huffed in frustration and tried to pick it up again, but it phased through his hand.

"It's mine. It's my hair."

Now you had more questions and even less answers. Starting with:

"Why is there a lock of your hair buried in the window ledge of my apartment?"

He stared at it, working his jaw. The physical reminder of his living body while his dead one was thousands of miles across the ocean seemed to weigh heavy on his mind for many obvious reasons.

"We thought it'd be a funny time capsule. We were also stupid." He mumbled.

You both stood in silence at the simplicity and the irony of the situation. But was it that simple? It couldn't have been that simple.

When you passed him to look at the loose panel, you noticed extra etchings in the wood. Some initials and vulgar images. Some acronyms you didn't understand. As your eyes followed the old wood, you noticed something else peaking out beneath the paint, just past the wood panel.

It was a stain.

Your stomach dropped.

Without another word, you took the knife from him and started to pull more paint off of the windowsill.

"What the hell is that?” you whispered, revealing more and more of the fading stain hidden by layers of white paint.

There it was, no bigger than your thumb but very obvious nonetheless.

You dropped the knife and stumbled back like you’d been punched in the chest. Your ears started to ring and you couldn’t breathe. He stood a some distance away, staring at the stain with a glazed over look in his eye. When you opened your mouth to speak, you tasted pennies in your mouth and your vision started to go dark in the corners. Your eyes dropped to the floorboards that'd been painted a darker color that didn't seem to match the wood in the other apartments, and you felt your knees buckle.

They painted over his blood.

[darlingpwease]

I haven't? :(( (Yes yes!! And give him many many kisses and shower him in love <<3333)

It's the new Yuuta work I'm writing, that's why it's taking so long. I'm writing a few of the worlds so it's looking like it's gonna be a long fic.... LMAO TRUEE, it's always the systems!!! Face slapping system, hero system, second lead system, canon-fodder system, mob system, villain system, caretaker system, etc etc... Sometimes the MC being the system! I'm still a sucker for them </33 My weakness <//333 Oh? Very interested?? It sounds absolutely amazing??? omgomg????

A calf on a leash?? I've never heard that one before,,, it sounds like a green flag to me though.... hey Dove haha what the fuck ahaha <333 that scenario was so specific?? What have you been reading lately?? Hm?? /ht /hj NOO I don't mean to nullify it I promise

Oooo!! They're nice too,,, there are just so many character I wanna hug tho tbh

If he were to cling to me I'd spoil him as much as I possibly could <333 I'd love him and kiss him and bite him and hold him and coddle him and praise him and treat him like he's the most precious little thing in the whole world <<3333 HAHA ME TOO they're my kryptonite, I love 'em so much, they're so lovable,, I never want to let them go <//33

>:□ I think I'm good and sweet already. Maybe a little tangy or spicy, maybe even bitter,, but still nice nonetheless... /hj?

-panna cotta

Xie Lian loves you, that's a given. He always pays attention to your needs, your likes, dislikes, your passions, your desires, you– He's noticed the way you've been acting the past few lives, and it scares him.

He has done all of this for you to stay.

He loves you.

You've said that there's nothing wrong with him, that you love him, that you'll never leave him– But with you acting different, he still can't help but be unnerved.

You would always treat him like a flower, so delicately, as if he could break at the smallest thing despite him being a God, so when you get a bit rough, when you bite him harder, mark him deeper and darker, when you bind him, marking him up more than you ever have before, he doesn't really know how to act, but by the heavens is he happy.

He listens so well, and when you see him laying there pliantly just for you, trusting you even though his muscles are slightly tensed from not knowing what will happen next, you feel a huge rush of bliss. Excitement. Superiority. Superiority over yourself, but superiority nonetheless.

You finally beat yourself. And it feels glorious.

Xie Lian will remember this. He will never be able to forget this, because this is the first time you're doing it, and you will always have that benefit. Not you from then, and not you in the future. You, right now, have finally something new to give him, and you can't help but revel in that fact.

The way his breath hitches over the smallest movement, the way he whimpers softly, you feel like you have all the power one could have and more.

The way Xie Lian leans into you when you kiss and caress his skin, it drives you insane. He's nervous, but he trusts you. He adores you. He doesn't know what's going on, but he can't help but be happy when he thinks about what kind of joy you must be feeling because of that. You still treat him as if he is the rarest thing in the world, the most precious thing,, when you press soft kisses against him, asking if he's okay, petting his hair and telling him how good he is, how perfect he is–,,, but he can't deny that the roughness is wonderful change too.

And when he calls out your name, not the one the people of this life gave you, but your true, real name,, you can't help but slip and drown in the addictiveness of your Xie Lian.

I can't help but think of Xie Lian and Hua Cheng both being cute puppies that will follow you around, always willing to do whatever you want as long as it makes you happy, being the most loyal and the most devoted to only you,,, man I could just go on and on lmao Hua Cheng would definitely tease as much as he can when you're still a will-o'-wisp, he adores you, you would always be there to protect him when you could, but now he's finally doing that for you, "Oh, how the roles have switched!"

no🧐 you're too suspicious, I don't trust my cute pies to someone like you🫤🫤🫤 /t /j (yes!!! tell him how cute he is and how much you love him; after all, even if you're not quite sure if he's a weasel or a rabbit, you still can't help but adore and shower him with everything you can, even knowing how powerful and strong he is<///3)

I'm looking forward to it then!!! >:33333 I also have a draft, but only about the quick transmigrator Yuuta, who is constantly looking for his lover in every world, not knowing that the one he is looking for is the physical embodiment of his system, so you are always in his world</3 I love them too, it's just a light joke on the spite of the day, dear~

listen, but you, the owner of the system, whose duty it is to check the operability and proper operation of the plot without external influence, so that then other players and their systems can take advantage of this world, because due to plot inconsistencies and holes, the world can try to explain everything itself, sometimes making white lotuses lying creatures, and giving villains high missions and creating white sheep out of them, which, of course, should not be allowed. you just have to live the world and follow the plot, correcting it and letting your system record the shortcomings and what was done to make the plot right again, sometimes even directly arranging in creating chains of motivations and goals just to prevent the world from trying to break the plot itself. in fact, you have almost the least restrictions of all existing system owners - neither in characters, nor in attempts to fix the world, unless you count the fact that after leaving the world you officially confirm that the world is fixed and exists as it should.

and although the world of cultivation is most subject to a huge number of holes and inconsistencies, like fantasy, you still loved to visit them, and a popular novel was rather your way to "relax", enjoying the moment until everything becomes intense. of course, you didn't choose the smallest role to be at the top of the hierarchy and relax at the same time, and even when the world started trying to accommodate you with the original characters, considering you an important character too, you didn't resist. and even when you were in an ambiguous relationship with the main characters, finally allowing yourself to experience almost guilty pleasure from your deaths (which do not affect your essence at all and are painless due to the influence of the system) and the easy torment of characters who had ambiguous feelings for you, you were actually sure that it would not affect on the feelings of the characters themselves — and so it was, they reached the right end, even if you had to get in here and there, sometimes deliberately leaving the plot to find holes and returning to fix, finding minor mistakes here and there, sometimes more because of how few players were still in the world, and the world just doesn't understand how respond to interference. in fact, although the characters don't look at you the way they should, it's not a problem — as soon as you disappear, this tenderness will disappear, so you know what you're doing, even when you're silent on their confession or gently hugging, as if drawing a line, indulging your desire to finally be loved.

at least until you get complaints that the characters don't behave that way — and none of the systems can handle it, no matter what type it is; even a "beta reader" can't fix a plot that doesn't match the original from the very beginning, even more than it even has to match in the young a world that doesn't know how to handle "guests" yet. of course, you are immediately forced to go back to this world, starting from the very beginning, to check whether these words are justified and honest, and why the world has gone crazy — in the end, it may be intruders who are trying to break the world to destroy it, and you, as an inspector, must make sure that everything is fine and then decide what to do with the world.

just to understand that your system is functionally suppressed and just as confused as you are, before explaining that this is only possible in one case — if the main rules of the world, "Heaven", forbid such a thing, while your system only helps, not controls, and should obey these rules. of course, you are amazed, there were no words about the limitation of the system in any of the reviews (only about "characters behave strangely", "they talk about a name that is unfamiliar", "the plot is not right at all!"), otherwise you would have taken additional measures, and if at your death you would have been treated in the game space, then everything would be fine, but your death is not a reason to leave, only the end of fixing the world.

only to understand that all these reviews were absolutely true — the characters are definitely not behaving the way they should have,

especially main characters.

are you not??? let me guess, you don't even understand what that means, hwhwhwhwhw "green flag"😨😨😨 /t Specific? Dear, this is the plot of any Manhua or white lotus story🤨 then I'm very interested in what kind of work you read, since you don't regularly see this template there, because for me it has already become so native, like my child :/// "what the fuck" bad white lotus cotta, white lotuses never swear!!! 3:<<< /t /hj of course, dear, but forgetting about it also counts as nullify, and we both know what that means<///3 /t /j

attention, here is a panna cotta who did not reach the 'dark water' arc ajhshshs /t /j /nsrs yes so true😔 wanna mwah all of them😔😔😔

yes!!! fandom often considers him just a baby, but he has experienced so many dark and traumatic things and has grown so much and overgrown with traumatic experience and insecurities and continues to try to stay positive and have a strong moral,,,, I want to see him break down and cling to you because you are the only thing that continues to give him hope in the world and what keeps his mental and emotional stability, and he gives you everything he has, because he can't afford to lose you anymore :((( he looks so cute and innocent, especially considering his altruistic and gentle nature, as if he really is some kind of forest fairy or a helping spirit; this provokes even more to get under his skin and poke at painful spots until you see how deeply and abnormally obsessive and dependent he is on you<////3333 my poor little woof woof,,,, yes!!! I always want to kiss and caress them until they start feeling loved again and will not be happy and will not cry if they are emotional <33333 xie lian is just as unique as yuuta, only if yuuta wanted to corrupt, then xie lian causes a desire to corrupt him and make him even more painful until his real attitude towards you appears in the form of a burning black lump of emotions, feelings and desires,,,, hua cheng, on the other hand, only makes me want to rock him in my arms, I don't want to hurt him shsghdgshd

🤨 dear, if everyone in the world were as sweet and nice as you, kindness would be absent in our world in principle🤨🤨 meanie /t /hj

When you are rude to him for the first time in all your lives, to the point that his legs can't help but tremble, feeling your hot lips slide over his cool skin, leaving bites and kisses, tightly wrapping around his waist, almost breaking it from the strength of hugs if you could, but Xie Lian only purrs, stroking you, encouraging you rather than trying to calm you down, allowing you to pinch and bite, feeling that your emotions become a tight ball that curls inside your body, spreading through your veins like poison, finding release only in the way his body shudders or how he breathes or moans when you find even more skin, you press even closer, bite even harder — when you try to find even more evidence that his body does not belong to "you", but to you, to you, personally to you, personally to you.

When you demand that he looks at you while touch his body, still sensitive to your touch and loving them; looking at you with darkened eyes, and you can't figure out whether it's a blush or the light from the fire on his face when your fingers slide to his stomach, drawing lines and words, which have meaning only for the two of you, like your secret symbols that belong only to you two, memories that only you of the living share. The signs by which only you can recognize each other, outlined on his soft skin, but almost leaving hot brands from which he breathes heavily, are still the same desperate mess for you that hundreds of years ago, that now — as if he is frozen in time, not even moving until you enter, entering into a chemical reaction that only has both of you, able to exist only with each other, no more than the moon and sun that you once had to become, the moon and sun of the Xianle kingdom, when you intertwine your fingers with his, letting his loose hair lie on the floor like tangled threads while his thin long fingers squeeze the fabric of your clothes, hearing there are only quiet moans and sighs around the house, as if everything around you has fallen silent, immersing you only in the sounds and rustle of each other's clothes, a quiet sweet moan when his legs tremble with excitement — just so that you catch it, kissing his hot face, even when your sticky, wet fingers slide over, leaving an imprint on his wet skin, continuing to caress, take, squeezing, touching, stroking, pinching, — and feeling how he greedily kisses your lips, as if giving up everything he has it was, pressing so tightly that it becomes difficult for you to breathe, as if he is trying to eat you, clinging in blind despair and need.

Xie Lian's eyes are dark, shining with delight and adoration, as if overflowing with feelings and sensations, and he is so hot and moist, even if he looks like a smooth white jade, — and his body is so pliable, even if unable to cope when your fingers continue to slide, caressing, touching, groping, making him gasp from the sensations, trembling, awkwardly wrapping his legs around your hips, blindly kissing your neck and face while holding your hand with his hand, refusing to let go, as if this is the only thing that leaves him on earth, not letting you give in to the impulse and be completely absorbed, even if your caresses become more and more passionate, hungry, needy,

just like you.

When he whispers your name, which no one knows anymore, making you tremble with pleasure, still knowing that he remembers it, that it is you now before his eyes, the real you, and Xie Lian loves you like no one else, just like you do him, asking him to tell you again how your name is called; quietly whining your name when your skin touches each other, catching your breath, shared by two, as if you are under the water column, where there is only you and nothing else, enveloped from all sides and locked with each other, forever locked with each other, and you gently, affectionately, as before, whisper his name, adding 'His Royal Highness' when his body warms up again, digging fingers into your skin, breathing hard, whining, searching your lips with his lips, as if trying to find air,

just like he was looking for your gaze before, bringing peaches and other fruits with him to be with you.

Somewhere there, underground, your ancient kingdom sleeps, keeping its secrets in pristine silence, which no one remembers now.

You loved each other, that's why you were saved.

And you don't think it's an accident.

ahhh!!!! yes!!! gosh, we're really on the same wavelength, aren't we? they would be your most devoted and loving followers, ready to do anything for you and your happiness, and the fact that their adoration is ancient and unchangeable, unconditional, makes everything even better and worse at the same time, as if you are both in heaven and in a demonic reality, experiencing all the intensity that they can give and that they stored until you were able to accept it<3333 I mean??? is someone stopping you??? I don't see anyone for some reason???🤨🤨🤨 /ht /pos /gen

imagine that you were the former spouse of the crown prince, who was supposed to become your husband — so that he would then ascend, and you could live as the future monarch in his absence, simply observing celibacy, but then he returns against the rules of heaven and you are broadcast for being the spouse of a demon-god, only to have a child whom you once caught because, like a vulture, you watched the festival go well while your spouse was performing, and then you meet this child after you found out that he was born under the star of misfortune and tried to give him comfort, and then you meet him so often in all places where you can, to the point that you can't help but be gentle and affectionate to him, trying to protect him until your Prince begins to need your support and you don't have time for the child anymore — and now this 'child' takes care of you and teases you when you are fully awake from the exhausting hatred, pain and anger, having previously managed to burn people who harmed your Xie Lian. only now he has become much taller, with a blindfold over one eye, too powerful than he should be (why is he a great demon, while you still don't even have enough energy to transform into a human body? isn't he having too much luck??) and you don't even know where your lover is??? at least this kid promises to take care of him and take care of you, and you don't really have much choice in following him until you find your Xie Lian — sort of...

[pinkipeachiikeen]

And The Stars Will Guide Us Home; Chapter 5

A Batfam/BSD crossover series, Dazai x Fem! Reader

Chapter four <------ Chapter Five -------> Chapter six

It all happened so fast.

All he can see are flashes,

“You are gonna be just fine, kid.”

small spews of light,

“Just fine. I promise.”

and smoke.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

Yay an Atsushi chapter! I wrote this one a lil differently than the last one, I hope yall like it!

Word count: 5372

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, Atsushi meeting Aktugawa

It all happened so fast.

All he can see are flashes,

“You are gonna be just fine, kid.”

small spews of light,

“Just fine. I promise.”

and smoke.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

Atsushi wakes with a start, gasping for air, fingers grasping onto unfamiliar bedding.

Where am I?

Closing his eyes, he tries to remember but he can only recall each memory in sparks. Each moment a spotty reel of film, rewinding.

Flashes and tiny pools of light.

Small, hot, pointing shards of gravel digging into his skin.

A sharp, yet suddenly fading pain on his side, and,

That voice. 

“You are gonna be just fine, kid. Just fine, I promise.” 

It was soft, like an angel welcoming him into heaven, and right in that moment Atsushi was partially convinced that it actually was.

“That is your karma, weretiger.” a sickly voice replays in his head, barging recklessly into the moment of angelical peace, away from his angel's comfort and into a deathly chokehold. 

 “Your life is bound to cause only misfortune for those around you.” A haunting chill binds itself to Atsushi, seeping through every inch of him down to his core. The voice latches itself to his deepest insecurities and festers and bubbles, bringing a wave of nausea with it.

“Oh, good you’re up.” a voice interrupts, pulling him out of his head and away from the grasp of painful memories.

“EEP!” the boy cried, jumping in his skin, head turning to the chair placed across from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” the boy says relieved. 

“Well don’t sound too excited, now.” Yoru gently teases.

He shakes his head “I- I didn’t mean it-!”

She waves him off. “I was just messing with you.” scooting her chair a little closer to him, she asks “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs. “A little sore.” 

“I meant emotionally, but I guess a little sore is better than other outcomes.” she retorts.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I- I don’t know.” He replies honestly.

She nods. “That’s okay too.” said Yoru. “Can you tell me what happened? ‘Cause I'm really confused how everything can go to hell so quickly after I leave. I was only gone for like an hour- hour and a half maybe?” she guesses. “Who knew you were such a troublemaker, tiger boy.”

“I-i’m not!” he retorts. “It’s just-.. I only-” he stumbles.

“Take your time.” Yoru said sincerely.

Atsushi sighs. How did this all happen?

“Well I guess it starts with Dazai hitting on a woman and getting beat up by Kunikida for it.” he shares.

“Again?”

“Yep.” he confirms. “This time, it was a client.”

“So beautiful!” The bandaged detective complimented, delicately grasping the  clients hand. “You remind me of a lotus blossom, all at once elegant and ephemeral. Would you care to join me in a double sui-”

Crash! 

And as if it weighed nothing at all Dazai flew from Kunkida’s right hook, shocking the client and the other two detectives who were wrong for expecting anything but this tomfoolery when it comes to Dazai.

Kunikida just sighs, as if it was a regular occurrence (for them it probably was.) and apologizes for his colleagues behavior, telling the group how they can ‘carry on’ while he ‘takes care of it’, followed by the slightly muffled yelling of Kunikida reprimanding him. Meanwhile, the client continued on, unfazed. 

“Please let me expand a little on my request.”

“Oh! Of course!” replied Junichiro, who unlike the client, was distracted by his coworkers casual display of violence

“You see, there’s recently been a group of seedy looking individuals loitering in the back alley of my company building.” she continued, while the ruckus from the closet continued.

“Can you give us more details?” Junichiro asks.

“They wear clothes that are very old and tattered. We’ve heard some of them speak in a foreign language, but none of us can identify it.”

“If I had to guess,” starts Kunikida, emerging from the closet leaving a possibly concussed Dazai (Atsushi makes a mental note not to mess with Kunikida, before asking himself if it's even possible to piss him off as much as Dazai does.) “i’d say they sound a lot like smugglers. They are unavoidable in a port town like this one. With their numbers, the police can’t do much to stop them.”

“Right.” she confirms. “If we had empirical evidence of their activity, we could shut them down for good. That’s why” 

“You want us to get that evidence for you, right?” Kunikida finishes. “Hey kid.” 

Atsushi looks up to his senior. “Huh?”

“You’re on point.”

“Ehhhhhh?” 

“Relax,” said Kunikda, noticing this viable panic on the boy's face. “Smugglers are rarely violent, so you just need to keep watch in case they try to make a break for it. It’s really the perfect first job for a rookie.” he explains.

“Yeah but-”

“Junichiro, I want you to accompany him.” Kunikida interrupts.

“O-okay!” Junichiro accepts, quickly standing up. 

She wanted us to get evidence that there were smugglers loitering around the back of her work, so Kunikida told Junichiro and I to stake out there and take photos to give to the police.”

Yoru nods in understanding.

“Then he showed me a picture of someone and told me to avoid them at all costs. He’s an ability user, like us who works for a group called the Port Mafia. His name is Aktugawa.”

She nods again. “Okay, then what happened?”

“Well…” he starts. “The client was walking us to her workplace..”

“Seriously?” Asks Junichiro.

“Yes, If detective work ever becomes something you are no longer interested in, you would be an incredible actor.” Atsushi gushes. “I was convinced you were some crazy person that broke into the agency!” 

“Yeah,” Junichiro rubs at his neck. “I’m still sorry about that.”

Atsushi waves him off, “Don’t be, you were only doing what you were told to do, and you did a pretty good job at it too! So did your girlfriend, If i’m being honest-” 

“Girlfriend?” asks Junichiro with furrowed brows.

“Yeah,” Atsushi tilts his head in confusion. “The girl with the jet black hair? Are you two not dating? I'm sorry, I kinda assumed with the way you guys hugged afterwards.”

Junichiro lets out a laugh. “Atsushi, Naomi is my little sister. She gave me a hug because she was proud of me since I didn’t think I could portray a good enough villain for your entrance exam.” he sighs. “I really should’ve toned down my performance though, since now she keeps on trying to sign me up for acting jobs.” he grumbles. 

“B-But you guys look nothing alike?” Atsushi retorts.

“That’s because she’s my step sister,” he reveals. “We are just close enough that I don’t use ‘step’ anymore.”

“Oh that must be nice!” said Atushi. “I never really had siblings of any kind so…” Atsushi trails off awkwardly. He didn’t really feel like bringing the fact that he’s an orphan into the conversation because not much kills the mood faster than ‘oh my parents didn’t want me. Or they died. Either way, no family for me!’

Junichiro shrugs. “To be honest, I hated it for a while.”

Atsushi’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Junichiro nods. “For a good chunk of my life, it was only my Mother and I. My father was never in the picture and I grew comfortable with it just being the two of us. Then my mom got this new boyfriend all of a sudden, and what made matters even worse is that he had a daughter.” he reveals. “They assumed since we were both girls and around the same age we would get along.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Atsuhsi stops. “Both girls?”

He nods. “I’m trans, and I came out after my Mom and Step-dad got together.”

“Oh, okay.” said Atsushi.

“I despised Naomi. So, so, much. I don’t know how much of it was because she was my Step dads daughter and hated her in correlation, or because she made me think that my mother wanted a feminine daughter, or just a daughter, really. And I couldn’t give her that.”

Atsuhsi nods.  

“I mean I was polite to her while they were dating, but never really went out of my way to be kind. I was kind of banking on the possibility that they would break up and everything would go back to the way that it was, but after the wedding I gave up and just started ignoring Naomi.” he admits. “Well, to be fair, I kinda started ignoring everyone and went through my ‘edgy, nobody understands me’ phase.” he shutters. “That was a very dark time.” 

Atsushi tried, but couldn’t picture Junichiro as anything but a kind, smaller and  slightly more awkward version of himself. Envisioning him as anything else just felt wrong.

“Then, Naomi’s dad passed away in a car accident, and my mother and I became her only family.” he shares a bit somberly. 

“What happened to her mother?” Atsushi asks.

“She died giving birth to Naomi, and I don’t know much about her extended family, so I'm guessing they just weren’t around.” he sighs. “I- I was awful to her. Instead of seeing a little girl who lost her only family, I only saw a pest that hogged all my mothers time, energy and focus. My mother wasn't quite well off when it was the two of us, and now we had to take into account another child. We got all of my stepfather’s assets but he wasn’t particularly rich either and it didn’t cover the major changes we had to undergo. My mom was really struggling, and instead of trying to take a load off from her by helping Naomi transition to her new life, I just blamed everything on her instead.”

“W-well you can’t blame yourself for the things you said when you were a child!” Atsushi chimes in. “You were also struggling with a lot of changes too!” Atsushi bites his lip awkwardly. What exactly is he supposed to say to this? He didn’t think growing up in an orphanage would make him this clueless when it comes to comforting people, but he guesses that may fall under the social skills category he already knows he's deficit in.

Junichiro nods. “Yeah, I know. But it still doesn’t change the fact that my actions hurt others.” he states. “I was going through a lot of conflicting issues and I took them out on the people closest to me. It took me too long to come to terms with my actions and to realize that Naomi is actually pretty cool.” he chuckles. “Do you know how crafty that girl is?” he asks. “Whether it's the clothes she makes or the insults she dishes out, she always seems to amaze me. I just wish I had given her a chance before.” he shakes his head, as if he was expelling a thought. “But that’s why I always try to be there for her now, to make up for lost time. That’s why we moved to Yokohama together in the first place!”

“Really?”

Junichiro nods. “The school Naomi goes to has classes that specialize in fashion. She applied on a whim and forgot about it, assuming she’d never get in, until she received a letter in the mail. Mom was apprehensive about her moving away to a large city by herself so I offered to move with her.”

“Wow, that’s very nice of you Junichiro!” 

He shrugs. “Eh, I didn’t have much else planned anyway, so moving out here wasn’t going to disrupt any of my plans or anything.”

“Is that when you joined the agency?” Atsushi asks innocently.

Junichiro freezes up. “U-uh yeah.” he laughs awkwardly. “I was originally working as a waiter when I was scouted… it was kinda crazy actually.”

“Well it couldn’t have been crazier than my entrance story.” Atsushi jokes.

“Yes.” he said seriously, looking Atsushi in the eyes. “Yes, it definitely can be.” 

Looking slightly behind the now frazzled Atsushi, Junichiro squints his eyes. “Is that-” he whispers, walking to the display window beside him. “No way!” he exclaims, eyes wide and fingers smudging the glass. 

“What is it?” Atsushi asks, peering into the display. He didn’t see anything too noticeable right off the bat, it was just another antique store display. 

“Right there!” Junichiro points.

Atsushi squints. “That necklace?”

“Yes!” He cheers. “That’s Naomi’s necklace!” He runs his hands through his ginger hair in disbelief. “Wow, I never thought I'd see it again!” Noticing the confused expression on Atsushi’s face he chuckles. “This was her mothers necklace. Her father gave it to her when he believed she was old enough to not lose it, and she wore it every day.” he shares. “A few years ago it was stolen out of her locker when she was swimming in gym class. She was heartbroken.” he shakes his head. “I just can’t believe I found it.”

Atsushi takes a closer look at the necklace. It was definitely an interesting The pendant on it looked like it was some magical mirror that you would see in castles and story books. The edges with delicately rimmed with intricate designs and swirls, and was painted gold that matches the chain attached with it. Or it was supposed to, but the throes of time had diminished the shine to a coppered bronze. What he found particularly strange though, was instead of having a reflective glass in the center like a real mirror does, there was a decorative one instead with swirls of pinks and purples, all leading to a tiny fan carved into the glass. 

“Are you sure it’s hers?” he asks. “It would be a very big coincidence, y’know.”

Junichiro nods. “Do you see that tiny chip on the bottom?”

Atsushi nods.

“Naomi chipped it when I first taught her how to skateboard. She fell and skinned up her arm real bad, but the only thing she could focus on was that tiny lil chip.” he reveals. “Wow, I need to buy this for her.” 

“Is everything alright?” The client asks, making the boys flinch.

“Oh, yes, yes, everythings fine.” Junichiro replies, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, not quite making a convincing show that he didn’t momentarily forget why they were there in the first place. “I just-” he sighed. “I saw a necklace my sister had stolen years ago. It was her mothers, and it just threw me off to see it.” he shares, looking a tad defeated. “I’ll have to buy it on the way back, I apologize for getting distracted.” he bows. 

“Go buy it.” 

Junichiros head pops back up. “W-what?”

“Go buy the necklace.” the client said, a gentle, almost sad, smile gracing her lips. “The smugglers don’t usually appear until about…” she checks her watch “half an hour from now. You buying something real quick shouldn’t throw us off schedule.” she states. “But go quickly.”

“Y-yes ma'am!” he replies, throwing open the door to the shop and running inside. 

“Ohhhhh.” realizes Yoru.

“What?” replies Atsushi.

“Nothing.” she waves him off. “What happened after he got the necklace?” 

“Then-” Atsushi gulps. “She led us to the alley.”

“Hm, that’s strange.” Junichiro wonders aloud. “Is this really the right spot Miss..”

“Higuchi.”

“Miss Higuchi, smugglers tend to be a very cautious bunch of individuals, they’ll always have an escape route planned.” Junichiro informs. “And yet, this place leads to a dead end. If anyone came from that direction they’d be trapped.”

And just like that, any remains of that sorrowful smile drains away from her features. “That’s correct.” she said, tying her hair up. “I must apologize for deceiving you and leading you both into a trap. She slid her dark shade over her face and grabbed her phone from her pocket, clicked a button and held it to her ear. “My actual targets are standing right in front of me.” she reveals. “Akutagawa, it’s me,” she greeted into her phone. “I have them cornered, as planned.”

Akutagawa?! Isn’t that who Kunikida warned me about?!

“SHE’S WITH THE PORT MAFIA!” Junichiro yells, tackling Higuchi. “ATSUSHI GET DOWN!” Atsushi nearly throws himself to the ground, missing the rain of bullets by the skin of his teeth.

“Get. Off. Me!!!”  she grunts, attempting to shove him off with one gun while the other lands on the ground with a clack. Then with a grunt, she knocks the butt of the gun against his jaw, sending him back. 

Fixing her glasses and now standing tall over him she chuckles. “I’ll do your sister a favor and place her precious necklace around your neck so it’s the first thing she sees when they deliver your corpse.” she said wickedly, gun pointed to the center of his head. 

“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth!” he shouts, each word growing in fevor. “Special ability! Light snow!”

Green strands of light cloak around him as freckles of light rained down around them. “Doesn’t look like snow to me.” she states as strands of green decorates the space around them.

“Atsushi, stay far behind me.” Junichiro warns. Nodding, he stands far away from his co-worker, anxiously waiting for his rebuttal. 

“Ugh this is taking too long.” she groans, shooting Junichiro point blank making Atsushi recoil into himself just to see the boy crumble and fade away into green pixelated code.

“What?!” screams Higuchi.

“My light snow ability transposes the entire space into a digital realm.” Junichiro voices, but Atsushi couldn’t see where from. It was like he was watching Higuchi, taunting her from outside their arena.

“Damn it!” she cursed, scanning the alley for any trace of him.

“I’ve superimposed the imagery upon myself, so it’s impossible to recognize where I am!” 

“Even so, my bullets can still hit you!” she sneered, firing at every angle and direction, in hopes of locating the boy.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” 

Out of thin air, hands gripped tight around her neck, relentless despite the struggle she put up. Choking, Higuchi releases her guns and tries to claw at the hands, begging for release, but to no avail. Junichiro then becomes visible to the human eye as he puts every ounce of energy into protecting him and his friend, hands growing tighter and tighter. Drool drips down her chin, and her hands begin to drop, breathing becomes weary before it all stops.

Junichiro falls to the ground, blood pooling down his chest.

Before Atsushi could even cry out his name, he sees him.

“Be careful of this man.” Kunikidas' voice rings through his head. “If you see him, run.”

There in all his murderous glory, stood the very man Kunikda warned him about;

Akutagawa. 

His sheer presence alone radiated power and malice as he looked down at the detectives. He peered over them as if they were nothing but the rats that invested these alleys as he coughed. “The stance of death,” he hissed, heels clicking with every striking step he took. Tendrils of raw energy emitting from the man fill the dim and cramped alley, crawling up the beaten brick walls in flickers and dashes of red. “Doesn’t discriminate from those who seek it, do you not agree?” 

Atsushi could only shake in fear as Aktugawa marches over to his subordinate and introduces himself. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Aktugawa. Like this woman here, I am one of the Port Mafia’s Black Dogs.’ He said before falling into another cough.

“Mr Aktugawa!” Higuchi pleads, standing up after her recent assault. “I can handle this by myself!”

SMACK!

Akutagawa's hand glides swiftly across her cheek, taking even Atsushi back for a moment. 

“My orders were  to take the weretiger alive, and yet here you are gunning everyone down!” He shouts. “You useless mongrel! Back off!” 

“I’m sorry.” she nearly whispers, avoiding his eyes.

“Take the weretiger alive…?” Atsushi repeats. “I- I’m the one you’re after?”

“But of course,” he answers, not even thinking highly enough to look at the boy. “The objective of this mission has always been you, and you alone, weretiger. Your friend has gotten caught in the crossfire.” he explains. “Just an unfortunate consequence.”

Atsushi gasps, but he feels as if no air is entering his lungs. “All of this..is because of me?”

“Indeed,” he confirmed, finally looking at the boy. “That is your karma, weretiger. Your life is bound to cause only misfortune to those around you.

Memories flood his head of those familiar words;

 “Get out you good-for-nothing!”

“The world would be a better place if you just died in a ditch somewhere!”

“You aren’t welcome here, and you’ll never find a place where you do belong!”

Voices of those who were supposed to protect him when he was the most vulnerable, yet only drew harm and cast him away.

“That’s… my ..karma? He asks himself more than the man he faces.  Am I really doomed to cause pain and misfortune to others? What did I do to deserve this? Why-?

Atsushi didn’t even notice the striking black flash of his ability until it was only centimeters too close and left a welting crater into the gravel beside him. 

“Naturally I missed on purpose that time, but my Rashoumon has been growing very hungry.” he shares, the black and red tendrils forming a dragon-esque creature hovering above the man, awaiting his very command. “I intend to take you in alive, but if you decide to resist, then I will have no choice but to have it consume your leg next time.”

“B-but why?” Atsushi whimpered. “Why is this happening to me?” Is this my fault too? Do I make everyone around me suffer? Just by being alive?  

“A-atsushi..” Junichiro groans. “Run, run away, you got to…”

Junichiro! He’s still alive!

“Now that  you’ve joined our ranks, you  should try and act accordingly.” Kunikdas words from earlier replay in his head. “Work to uphold the agency’s good name.”

With newfound vigor from Kunikdas words, Atsushi knows what he has to do. 

With a scream of passion, he darts towards Akutagawa. 

“A fool’s errand, how tiresome.” Aktugawa complains, sending Rashoumon his way, but Atsushi only slides down beside him and picks up Higuchi’s forgotten gun and unloads it all into the man's back.

Only to see the jacket absorb the bullets and let out a deadly roar, with every bullet falling to the gravel like discarded trash. 

“I’ll commend you on a noble effort,” Aktugawa proclaimed as his coast began to fester and roar, begging, screaming, like the souls trapped in hell, begging for a release. “But in the end, it was a futile attempt. My Rashoumon’s hunger knows no bounds, it devours everything around it. It consumed the very space your bullets were attempting to cross in order to reach me. No matter what kind of weapon you might try  to use, none can reach me in this present state.”

How is anyone supposed to stand a chance against him?!

“Unfortunately for you,” he sneers, eyer glaring into Atsushi’s, “I keep my promises.” 

“Okay, then what happened?” Yoru asked after a prolonged pause.

“I….” Atsushi grips at his leg, evidential proof going against his memories. “I don’t know. I thought-” he sighs. 

‘Hey,” Yoru said, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “I’m not here to judge, okay?” she comforts. “Just tell me what you remember.”

Atsushi bites his lip and avoids her gaze. “I…I remember this pain.” he starts. “This unbearable pain, unlike anything I've ever experienced before.”

Yoru nods, encouraging him to continue. 

“Then I just had this…rage. This red hot rage came from within, and it almost kinda…took over?” he tries to explain, sighing again when the words fall quite right. “I’m not quite sure what happened after that. Everything gets really fuzzy.” 

“That makes sense.” Yoru said. 

“It does?” he asks, finally meeting her eyes again.

She nods. “Yeah, it does. A lot of very big things happened within the course of minutes, I'm honestly surprised you could recount this much. I bet a lot of people couldn’t.”

“H-how would you know?” 

“Hm?”

“I’M SORRY! That sounded a little rude!” Atsushi apologizes. “Y-you just seem very knowledgeable in this sort of thing and I was just curious y’know? I’m not trying to doubt or-”

 “Atsushi,” she laughs. “It’s fine. I understand what you mean.” she assures. “I told you I taught self defense, right?” 

Atsushi nods. 

“Well, even though a good chunk of my students took the class as a precaution, many took it after they experienced an event where being able to protect themselves would  have been vital.” she shares.”Gotham is a pretty shady city, and we had plenty of dangerous people making rounds there, ability users or not, and I've grown accustomed to hearing the stories.”

Atsushi had a feeling that Yoru held some dangerous stories of her own, but he wasn’t going to push. “Actually…” he starts. “I remember a tiny bit more, but it’s kinda silly…”

“I doubt it.” Yoru said. “Go on.”

“Well,...” he rubs the back of his neck. “I remember a bunch of smoke, and laying on the ground feeling helpless, when I heard this voice…”

“Voice?” Yoru repeats, confused.

Atsushi nods. “Yeah, a voice.” he confirms, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “This voice, it kept telling me I was gonna be okay, and everything was gonna be alright. Then I woke up here.” he explains. “Do you think I'm hearing things?

Yoru chuckles, “No, only the things you are supposed to.” she jokes. “That was me, I said that.” 

“WHAT?!” he says a bit too loudly, the blush on his face growing rapidly as Yoru ‘shhhh’s him. “That was you?!”

Yoru nods.

“B-but, I thought you were with Ranpo! H-how did you find me?” 

“I was just escorting him to the train station.” she explains. “I was trying to go back to the office but no one thought of letting me know exactly where that is.” she grumbled slightly. “I was close enough to hear the gunshots, and I ran towards the alley. You guys are very lucky I was nearby and even more lucky that Higguchi lady had a horrible shot and hit a gas pipe. I was able to run in and grab you both before the smoke cleared.”

“Both?” Atsushi repeated, suddenly remembering he wasn’t the only one injured. “Oh my god! Is Junichiro okay?!” he asks throwing off his blanket about to stand up before Yoru pushes him back down. 

“Slow down there, buddy boy. Yosano may have patched you up, but you still need to rest.” Yoru scold. 

“But I need to know if he’s okay!” he protested.

Yoru pulls back the curtain to show a sleeping Junichiro, with a curled up Naomi right next to him. “He’s doing just fine. He woke up briefly earlier and is just resting now. Naomi has been by his side the whole time and almost needed to be sedated when I brought him in. She was hysterical.” she reveals. “Man is lucky to have someone that  cares about him that much.” she said, pulling the curtain closed. 

A feeling of guilt grew in Atsushi’s stomach. He only got hurt because of me. Everyone only suffers because of me, this is my fault. I don’t deserve to-”

“Ow!” Atsushi recoils, rubbing his forehead where Yoru just flicked him

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Beating yourself up.” she explains. “It changes nothing.”

“Wha-” how did she know? “But-”

“But nothing, Atsushi.”

“But he was right!” cried Atsushi, crossing his arms and squeezing them for comfort, placing tiny bruises along his skin. 

Yoru furrows her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Aktugawa, the guy from the Port Mafia.” he mutters. “I’ve only been here a few days and only caused problems,” he shares. “Whether it's with you, having to carry me home and comfort me late at night, or with Junichiro who almost died.” he cried, tears forming in his eyes. “I-” he sniffles. “Maybe I should hand myself over to the Mafia…”

“Absolutely not.” 

Atsushi has never heard her voice so cold and stern before, and it almost scared him. “What..?

“Y’know what all members of organized crime have in common?” she asks methodically. “Whether they are as simple as a neighborhood street gang or as complex as a mafia. Hell, if you aren’t afraid to get controversal, you can throw in political groups too. No matter how big and powerful they all are or aren’t, every one of them all have this in common. Can you guess what it is, Atsushi?”

“Um, power?” he meekly replies.

She lets out a humorless laugh. “God, that’s what they want to think.” she shakes her head. “No,” she looks directly at him. “They are all pawns.”

Atsushi feels a shiver run down his spine, but can’t quite understand why.

“No matter how high you climb that ladder, you are still a pawn controlled by someone, or something else. They get so illusioned by the concept of power and control that they don’t realize they have none.” she sighs and shakes her head once again, the coldness in her eyes seeping away into something into couldn’t quite identify. “You don’t-” she sighs, contemplating her words. “You don’t  join groups like the Mafia with anything to live for.” she reveals. “You sell your soul at the chance of having any kind of control, any kind of power because at that point, you have none. They like to lure you in with the promise of family, weath, a home, and promise you that all while handing you a gun and telling you to kill.”

“H-how do you know this?”

She sighs. “I was one of those people, once upon a time.” she reveals, shifting in her chair. “Young, naive and desprate in a foreign land. I made mistakes, big ones.” she shrugs. “But that’s why I know that you aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last either.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“They are are pawns, including Aktugawa. He’s saying what he knows will get under your skin so he can get you to fold. Your just another job. I highly doubt you were the first vulnerable person he tried to take advantage of and I know for a fact you won’t be the last. If you hand yourself over to them you’ll just be another job done, and you have came too damn far and worked too damn hard too give up. Not just that, but the Mafia will think that the Agnecy is just a measly obstacle in their way. Sure, maybe they’ll start by wanting you, but who’s next?” she asks. “If they can take a weretiger from us what’s gonna stop them from trying to take a boy with an illusion ability, or a boy with super strength?”

“B-but what if they attack the agency?”

“The Port Mafia has been rivals againt the agency long either of us arrived here. If they really had the ability to take us out, wouldn’t they have by now?”

Atsushi shrugs. “Yeah, that does make sense.”

“I meant when I said everything is gonna be fine, kiddo.” she says playfully,  messing up his hair. “Aktugawa is just a coward who wants to save his own skin. Don’t listen to him, okay? Besides, I told you I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, and i think I did a pretty good job at that, no?” she jokes. “I’mma go get some water, you go and get some more sleep, alright?”she tells him, pulling back the curtain, before pausing. “Oh yeah, and Atsushi, can we keep the bit about my past between us? I don’t like sharing that bit about me, for obvious reasons.”

He nods, before calling out to her before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Y’know, in the alley when you told me those things?”

She nods. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I- thought you were a angel or something,” he shares, blushing slightly. “I mean, you kinda are, they way you saved me and all!”

Yoru gives a sweet, almost sad smile that Atsushi couuldn’t quite place.

“Get some rest, Atsushi.

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

Did I change Junichiro and Naomi’s relationship entirely? Yes, yes I did. Do I regret it in any way? No, no I do not. 

If you liked this chapter let me know by commenting (it fuels me to write more!) liking and reblogging! Plus, to the few that have read every chapter so far (i love you *mwah mwah*) I can tag you when I update if yall want? let me know

[fatessupervisor]

Flowers

Prompt: “‘Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you've caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the ‘girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft’ and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard’ AU” —awful-aus

It felt rather like robbing a big bank: legally wrong but morally debatable.

...

Her garden was brimming with flowers. The other gardens lining the street were full of snowpeas, green beans, and peppers. A rose bush dotted here and there just as much for show as fragrance. But not her garden. She seemed to have planted every flower she could find. Not even in neat little rows. They climbed over each other, vines entwining and forming a colorful canopy of daises, tulips, and bashful peonies. Vivid violets delicately peeking out. He wondered how she picked her way through, with all the little white flowers speckled across the ground like freshly fallen snow. Was she some dancer, tiptoing through the tulips?

He shaked his head to clear out the bunnies. It wasn't as if he was strolling through the shoe-box meadow himself, picking flowers like some Von Trapp sister. He plucked them from hanging vines creeping out over the iron wrought fence. Flowers waving tauntingly over dull gray concrete. He wasn't stealing. Really. He was saving her. They'd fined Mr. Harthrow two rows down for the dandelions splitting through his sidewalk cracks. God knows how much her colonizing garden would have cost her.

He wasn't stealing. But he was still careful. Looking at shuttered windows and turning the corner with a backward glance. If he'd known she was watching he'd have never done it. He was never one for confrontations. But maybe neither was she. Because she watched a dozen some times before confronting him.

She hung out from her first story window like a string of pearls. Fingertips catching on red-brick. She dangled far too low, as if sure the canopy would catch her prickly thorns and all. She wore a perennial blue shirt. (The only color he didn't see in her garden.) Her daisy-blond hair was loose, scraggly and dried out from the sun. But her grin was wide and her eyes over-brimming with mischief. (She wasn't anything like him at all.)

"So you're the flower thief! Picking flowers for your girlfriend then?," she called out. "You know how to make a girl jealous. I can't remember the last time my boyfriend bought me flowers." She wilted dramatically hand over her heart.

"I can't condone theft and from someone so young too. You're what, in high school? But if it's for true love...," she wondered. He was still rooted to the spot as she draped herself across the frame, hand moving from her heart to cup her chin. She dug in, eyeing him like a fish hook.

"I've decided. You'll have to introduce me to this Capulet. I need to see for myself if she's worth all this petty theft," she said. "Stay right there! I'm coming down."

This would have been a wonderful opportunity to run. But he was suffering from too much social whiplash to even walk straight. He stared in numb horror as she bound through the door and past the gates. Her hand on his shoulder barely cut through the fog. He managed a slow, dumb blink.

"Lead the way Romeo," she said. A friendly shove had him dtumbling but lurching forward. His feet knew the way even if his mind was full of TV static. One step after another until his mind was racing again. They had stepped into the park. He could hear her mumbling about picnic dates. His eyes fell on the tree like they always did. It stood out. A spindly sapling surrounded thick-trunked, towering oaks. It hadn't even sprouted leaves yet.

This may be the most social interaction he'd had in months.

(He hated how bare it looked. How the stick-thin branches reminded him of paper skin and jutting bones.)

She was still looking around for a pretty girl. But there was only a man yards away shouting down a cocker spaniel with berry red juice dripping from its maw, a noticibly haggled bush behind them. She was getting impatient and maybe a tad concerned with his silence. It was drawing out into an awkward crescendo.

"I'm sorry but she's not coming."

"We're you not supposed to meet today. I thought with you picking flowers again...," she trailed off. Did she think he'd been stood up?

"No-its. It's not that. There's no girlfriend. There was never a girlfriend," he rambled. "I'm srry. I shouldn't have picked the flowers, I-".

"You picked them for yourself then," she asked. Not quite judging but eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to follow the thread.

"For Lucy. A loving mother and friend. Leaves may change but roots only grow deeper," she read slowly. Her voice softening until it was only a whisper. Another long silence as the orchestra picked back up. But he grappled with his word before she could find hers.

"No. They weren't for me either," his voice firmed up, not wanting to lie. He had been shuffling his feet, backing up slowly as he spoke. His shoes caught the lip as hard-pack dirt turned to smooth metal. Their eyes both drawn to the still shiny plaque. To the delicately etched engraving.

"I kept waiting for them to grow. But they didn't-they wouldn't. They refused and they looked dead and I- I thought she'd like the color," he admitted. He still held the marigolds in his hands, stems crushed between twisting fingers. Her hand reached out and untangled them, gently one by one. It layed there on his open palm as light as a petal.

"You should've brought some Lavender. They pair well with marigold."

"They weren't near the fence."

She huffed and punched his shoulder lightly. She smiled softly. "Then you should've asked."

"We'll pick out a better bouquet next time. Something with a little variety," she said, glancing back at the tree. "I have a feeling she's someone who enjoyed suprises."

"She was", he admitted.

(She was so much like her.)

[niieve]

[ lingerie ] but like he is In the lingerie. silas and val

valentine’s inbox memes   ♡ [ lingerie ]  to gift my muse sexy lingerie

"alright, alright, i'm sitting, i'm sitting." at val's insistence silas dropped down on the couch, allowing his snack to momentarily be set aside in favor of giving val the attention he was requesting. not that it was an incredibly difficult task - after all, val wanting attention more often than not usually resulted in pleasure being received on his end, so he supposed he could take a minute or two out of his not-so-busy schedule to give his boyfriend what he needed. it was valentine's day, after all. or, as he liked to call it; valentino's day.

"what's so damn important that you had to pull me away from my munchies, huh?" though he was mostly just teasing, he didn't have to wait too long for an answer - even if the one he was given didn't have any words attached. val's shirt coming off was more than good enough for him. the sight, familiar as it was, just never seemed to get old, and was enough to bring a smile to silas' lips, his fingers reaching out to brush over val's side, before they were swatted away. oh. so that's how it was.

silas was far from a patient man, a fact val was more than likely completely aware of, but he knew that when it came to this kind of thing, to val surprising him, that is, the wait always paid off. besides - val never seemed to make him wait too long, at least, not unless he'd done something wrong. which... he hadn't lately, at least as far as he could remember. he'd been a good boy, he'd gotten val some nice, thoughtful gifts for the holiday, and they had reservations later that night at a fancy restaurant, ones that he'd had to make over a month ago. a big step up from previous relationships, where he'd typically forget about the day entirely, until it was too late, and he'd wound up with an annoyed significant other. with val, things were different. he gave a shit, he tried his hardest to make him happy, and though he was far from perfect at it, he liked to think of himself as, at the very least, an alright boyfriend.

based on the way val was continuing to undress, albeit, slowly as hell, it seemed like he wasn't the only one that seemed to think so. he'd done okay, for once in his life had maybe even been successful at something, and had a relationship he could take pride in. one that- wait. what was this? his gaze lowered as the pants were removed, momentarily stunning him at a completely unexpected sight. well, this was different.

black, lacy fabric. a sight that wasn't entirely new to him - with the exception of the body it was currently resting on. the contrast of the delicate material resting over val's chiseled body was hot, drawing a whine out of silas when he remembered he'd been silently instructed not to touch, just moments before.

bullying, that's what it was. his boyfriend was evil, the rudest, nastiest man on the- oh. okay. before he could finish his thought, or let the pout grow on his lips anymore than it already had, val was in his lap, grabbing his hands, and placing them over the material he'd been so desperate to reach out for. maybe not quite so evil after all.

"god, i love you." his hands squeezed and grabbed and pulled, not holding back as he let himself enjoy his present - easily the best he'd ever received. "if i didn't already have your name on my skin, you know i'd be making an appointment right now, because goddamn."

no matter how much time, money, or effort he'd put into the gifts he'd picked out for val, there was no way he could compete with this. that being said... there was still one gift he had yet to give him. well, today at least - or... okay, technically, this afternoon, at least. but was it his fault they had such an awesome and active sex life? not entirely. the man currently sitting in his lap didn't exactly put a stop to it, now did he? "come on, pretty boy. push those things to the side and let me blast ya with cupid's arrow, yeah?" perhaps not his sexiest pick up line, but... at least it was festive, right?