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darkspace7 · 1 month ago

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[ And To Tell Their Ghosts We'd've Still Loved Them If They Were Here ]

(Or: a collection of working backstory notes + some mini-fic for my Twisted Wonderland Yuusona OC)

[ Ramshackle Dorm ]

-------x-------Alex White/Akihito Yukishima\雪島秋人 -------x-------

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- Class: N/A (NRC Custodial Staff) Birthday: January 18 (Capricorn) Age: 27 Height: 158.75cm/5'2" Dominant Hand: Right Favourite Subject: Art Hobby: Fiber Arts Likes: Various Forms Of Storytelling Media Dislikes: Too Many To List... Favourite Food: Smoked Salmon Least Favourite Food: Tomato Juice Special Skill: Exorcism & Purification of Wayward Souls

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Don't let his short stature and quiet demeanor fool you. This tired and jaded twenty-something with a penchant for snark and heavily-repressed anger issues originates from a variation of Earth where all sort of malicious things lay frothing under the cover of night. It was up to individuals like him -[ Exorcists ]- to keep these entities under control and out of the public eye.

Because not only were the things that went bump in the night real, they also clearly wanted you dead.

[His appearance at the onset of arrival to Twisted Wonderland after giving the rather sketchy Headmage of Night Raven Collage his working pseudonym "Alex White". Don't be fooled by his gentle looks, he's an absolute feral opossum of a man.]

"Did you know that both [ blood & salt ] make a very versatile base for talismans and other such anti-magical warding items? No? Well pay attention now, it seems like that you're about to receive a practical demonstration."

(As demonstrated in the image above talismans are just one of the many tools of the trade that he hefts around with him to carry out his various jobs. Such items include:

A [ Magitool Hammer ] {found in one of Ramshackle Dorm's locked storage rooms and while initially intended as a multitool for the production of furniture and various repairs it was later repurposed as a weapon for self defense.}

[ Salt Encrusted Gloves ] {While they originally were an ordinary pair of gloves, upon modification through the hammer they can now serve a mean punch toward any unruly specter.}

[ Refillable Hidden Knife Set ] {Yet another item produced by the versatile magitool. These are used for both self defense and to carve wards onto various surface around both the Dorm and NRC in general. White also keeps several squirreled away on his person just in case he has a need to draw blood for any sort of reason. Not like any one would believe you if you dared mention it; they're just so small after all and the poor thing is unable to cast even the simplest spell! So how much of a threat could they really be?}

[ The Ghost Camera ] {Fell in love with the Fatal Frame vibes and may or may not have named it after the Camera Obscura.}

[ Château de Vainglory ] {A revolver pistol crafted in secret with the magictool and then tucked away in the depths of White's secret bunker for worst case scenarios. This becomes relevant later on.}

These and other assorted items that he's acquired from his stay in Twisted Wonderland are kept squirreled away in his Secret Bunker ((which is really just the old storage room that he's repurposed into a sort of anti-magical bolthole/panic room that's been warded to high hell)) because when dealing with the supernatural you can never be too careful after all.)

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(The hidden bolthole was decided upon as a must have even before White's unfortunate first run in with the resident spectral entities but this decision was only cemented upon as an absolute necessity when the man somehow managed to stumble headfirst into a live demonstration of the local Overblot phenomena.

You see, Overblotting is the magical equivalent of becoming a malicious type of spiritual entity when you're still alive through the process of putting an overwhelming amount negative energy directly on one's magic. If not treated succinctly an Overblot victim can die and become a full blown Phantom which is a essentially a magic-based Revenant.

((Revenants are the product of when a nonmagical person dies and undergoes a corruption similar to Overblotting due to overwhelming negative energy and were in fact the primary foe in which Exorcists had to contend with back in White's old world.))

Healthy magic users under normal circumstances usually have a base blanket immunity to the process of Overblot which has the added effect of making ghostly possessions rare but on the off occasion an outright malicious spirit does manage to latch ahold of a magic being it can result in a Bogeyman ((Phantom-Based)) or a Poltergeist ((Revenant-Based)).

However as non-magical folk are lacking this basic protection it can make them the more likely targets of a possession by either sort of spiritual entity with resulting machinations of a Revenant giving rise to a Ghoul ((which feeds on the individual's energy until poor soul's entirety is eventually corrupted giving rise to another Revenant)) or a Lich ((in which the individual's possession by a Phantom results in them being used as a fuel source and potentially being subsumed.)) To give an fortunate example of a near disastrous miss, there was White's introduction with the Ramshackle Ghosts. Due to his presence at the campus the spirits ((who had admittedly been allowed to fester for way too long and were teetering on the edge of becoming Revenants themselves)) naturally assumed that White had the selfsame protection that all magic users possessed and acted on such assumptions despite the reality of the matter being the exact opposite case. White, however, confident in his assertion that if these spirits did by chance manage to possess him then it would undoubtedly have done irreparable harm did what one who possessed a hard-earned fighting instinct garnered from a lifetime of having his very soul put on the line would do.

He dodged.

And with that ring of the bell began a long familiar dance with death for the fair-haired man, albeit with a slightly more noticeable bit of fire this go around courtesy of his new cat-like companion.

The situation was eventually handled ((through a bit of thorough explanation on Crowley's part and perhaps some promises of gratuitous violence and hastily crafted warding talismans on White's behalf once the Headmage had left)) and the ghosts eventually seemed to get the memo and settle down and begrudgingly let bygones be bygones.

Even if the whole deal did kind of piss him off.)

{For theoretical (and probably canon divergent) storyline featuring White that I'm tentatively dubbing the [ Eclipsing Phantom Arc ] it would most likely be set in a nebulous timeframe somewhere along the lines of late fall or early winter just after a heavy snowfall for peak dramatic effect. We'd get to see in this wholly original (and totally not inspired by the Castlevania Aria/Dawn of Sorrow Duology) tale of just why this feral possum man is the way he is in this.}

So to set the scene for things to come it would start like this: one of the History of Magic teachers would be up at the podium lecturing about the historical significance of the upcoming Crimson Moon Eclipse and the traditional association between the various celestial bodies in retrospect to magic as it is known today, and then we cut to White who had been listening in just outside the door with a thoughtful expression on his face as he did his job as a school janitor.

Grim, who (being the unhelpful menace that he was) had already decided that cleaning was a waste of his time and was currently lying sprawled out on the once spotless tile, had noticed the other's distant look and naturally asked what's up.

"Oh, nothing." The albino answered with his characteristic evasiveness. Clearly unsatisfied with that non-response, cat monster continued to pester him until he admitted, "I was just reminiscing is all." Seeing Grim's expectant expression somewhat reluctantly continued, "Just before I ...arrived... here there was total eclipse where I was at, is all."

Jumping at the bit to learn more about his enigmatic roommate Grim prodded further but was unable to get another word from the reluctant man by the time the bell interrupted him signifying that the lecture was over.

White moved to collect the cleaning items so he could put them away and get out of the hallway before the throng of students leaving class up and swept him away. He even manages to make it halfway there before he is suddenly accosted by some random underclassmen.

Now if it were a normal day White would instantly be suspicious of these random teenagers accosting him but he had admittedly not been having the easiest time sleeping lately —what what with how bad things had been with the Overblot Epidemic recently and the continually mounting stress from not only having to play some sort twisted battle therapist for everyone (despite being not even remotely qualified to be a school counselor) but also having to deal with Crowley's stark unwillingness to give him anything but the barest scraps to use as resources– and it was starting to wear him down so naturally he managed to miss their malicious smirks and mischievous snickers denoting the most likely ill intentions. But just as they began to tug him off to the side and away from the more populated halls just who should round the corner but resident Heartslabyul prankster Ace Trappola and his (fellow associate? Ally through extended circumstance?...Friend? Fuck, he'd really have to figure that whole situationship out at some point or another) Deuce.

Naturally when they caught sight the elusive campus cryptid seemingly chatting it up these unfamiliar students Ace, of who could readily admit to having had a mischievous streak the size of the Schoenheit's wardrobe immediately wanted to know what was up.

Perhaps it was some students who needed help cleaning (boring) or maybe they had heard of the man's infamous hammer and just wanted to see it in action (slightly less boring) or perhaps there was some kind of prank afoot?

(And while the red-head was suitably distracted with his musings he also wound up missing the sheer maliciousness glee positively radiating from the group of upperclassmen, however his friend Deuce most certainly did not.)

So with a quick jab to the side that the other was brought back to reality and the duo unanimously chose to (not so subtly) follow.

They watched as the boys managed manhandle him into an empty lecture hall. Darting in before the door fully shut and quickly ducking behind one of the seats on the upper row, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust because for some reason it appeared as though the lights had been switched off and, strangely enough, a spell cast to block the light incoming from the windows as well. All in all a suspiciously dark room that only further gave credence to the red-head's prank theory.

Suddenly a single dim light flickered into being surround the hall's small dais. It's presence illuminating both the fair-haired man (who had somehow managed to make his way down the rickety flight of stairs without stumbling once) and the shadowy figure crouching at the edge of the stage with their back to them.

Judging from the quiet snickering from either sides of them, was it another underclassmen perhaps?

As the light seemed to flicker for a second before brightening again as the figure stood up and turned a r o u n d...

Only to reveal a {mirror image} of the waif-like man?

The lookalike faced his doppelgänger with blank expression that that seemed to flicker in time with the light before slowly twisting into a smirk.

(Even in the near-dark it's hard not see the way White's body seems to freeze and while they might not have been able to catch the albino's expression at this angle it seems that the fiery feline at his side did. And if whatever he'd seen was enough to make the normally boisterous feline seem almost genuinely petrified? Then the elder of the Heartslabyul duo thought that it did not bode well at all.)

The figure seems to open it's mouth as if to make a derisive comment but the moment it does the light appears to flicker and cut out once more only to come back on a second later, just in time for them to catch sight of White's magitool hammer slamming straight into a face that mirrored his own. With the force of the blow sending the doppelganger sprawling to the floor they didn't have time to process this abject turn of events before he was upon the fallen man, hammer poised above his head for the next swing. A look of utter terror etched across doppelgänger face as the hammer smashed into it's head and magic binding it to this world fractured and broke apart.

Spell broken, the lights flickered on and the shadowed hold on the windows released allowing for sunlight to filter back into the room. Yet a lone shadow remained, and it was currently standing center stage before them cutting a mighty figure as he bore the weight of the kill with a discordant calm. White-blonde hair shown around his crown like an ethereal halo as the older man slowly tilted his head back to bask in the light.

Before he had even realized it he had pushed himself up from his crouch and left the safety of his hiding spot, ignoring the red-headed teen's startled hiss. "...White?"

The muted sound of his voice seemed to do the trick. White blinked out of his trance, his head snapping to the dark haired teen. Wide grey eyes raked over his form before turning to the grey-furred monster clutching at the edge of the dais as if for dear life. His gaze fell to the magitool tightly clutched in a trembling hand as he evidently realized what he'd done. Everything was still for moment before he twisted on his heal and bolts forward straight out the open window.

"Ah wait-!"

Dead silence.

"Ah man, how lame was that?"

...Huh?

"Yeah, I thought it'd be something a bit more interesting."

What?

"Ugh, you probably just cast the stupid spell wrong and that's why it went off the rails like that. It's ex umbra in mala somnia not ex umbra in mala speculum genius."

What.

A harsh snicker, "But did you see the look in the Mirror Shadow's face? What a riot! That would've been so much funnier if the original had been like that but y'know how it is."

Excuse me?

A shrug, "I mean, it'd make sense wouldn't it? The lack of magic would definitely thrown something off. Or maybe I guess it could've just been because he's a little freak."

What.

Various noises of agreement echoed around the room to the pair's rising bafflement as the other upperclassmen decloaked themselves, evidently having been there the whole time. But it was that final comment that cinched it for them.

"I'm sorry, but can someone explain to me what the actual fuck that what was that supposed to be?" The red-head shoved himself up from behind the seat where he had hid, a deep scowl etched into the teen's face.

"...Um. A prank? Dude, where did you even come from???"

"From the door." He retorted with an exasperated roll of the eyes and if he weren't so pissed right now he would have laughed at the other's flatfooted expression as they sputtered like the dumbass they were. But at least it gave him a moment to think which was good because, honestly, he had been just seconds away from doing…something not very nice.

He lifted a hand to stop the oncoming headache and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sorry, I'm trying to make sense of this but what kind of bullshit prank involves a group of people luring someone in to a secluded room casting something like that on them?"

"Hey, yeah!" Grim, who had remained fixed at the edge of the dais seemed to bristle, forked tail swishing irritably as his claws flexed. "What even was that anyway?!"

Deuce glanced at the red-head as well because, even though it pained him to admit, he had not done too well on the last generalized curse exam and currently was taking remedial lessons to make up the credit. But even someone like him could tell by the way it had been phrased as well as the irritated expression plastered across his face that it couldn't have been good.

He looked uncomfortable as he explained, "It's a type of paralysis spell; it uses darkness to knock a person out while they're still awake and then trap them in a loop of fear and nightmares until they either break from it themselves or someone else cancels the spell for them."

"Oh." He processed that for a second and when the ball dropped rounded on the other upperclassmen, hands digging into the lapels of the nearest one's uniform. "Dude! What the fuck?!"

"...Okay I know this looks bad but it was just supposed to be a prank, honest! We were just were going to knock him out, steal his stuff and set it on fire, then draw rude things on him before trying him to one of the light poles outside. I mean, until the loser tossed himself out a window." A pause. "Huh, it really does sound bad when you put it that way."

One of the others palmed their face with a groan as both of the underclassmen (and Grim) seemed to process this statement with thunderous expressions. "...You really aren't helping our case man."

"Stow it ah—"

"Hey!"

"Watch the shirt, watch the shirt!"

"I'm gonna do worse than ruin your stupid shirt you-"

"Hey you dolts!" Grim cut across with a plume of flame as he huffed, "'He just tossed himself out a window.'" Met with blank stares he growled, stomping a foot down and waving a frantic grey-furred paw at the open window. "Aren't we on one of the highest floors right now?" They ruminate on this for a second this before the ball dropped.

"Oh shit White!"

"Hey, wait for me!"

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Well, good news he wasn't dead.

Bad news, he was about to be if he didn't do something within the next five seconds.

'Damn it, not again.' He thought with a slight grimace.

Seriously, who was his bloodline cursed by for him to live such an interesting life as this? When he finally did manage to die (and somehow didn't manage to become a Revenant in the process) he wanted to have some words with them.

He twisted himself midair, giving an about face to the vibrant blue as gravity dragged him into a freefall; hard grey eyes narrowed as they scanned the area. Searching for...

...there!

Target locked, he swung the magictool as hard as he could with the silent prayer that it's area of effect took hold. A beat. Then two. As the ground drew ever nearer in it's encroach he felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck until finally he could feel near imperceptible charge of the item as it latched onto his intent. He didn't even have time for a halfhearted mental cheer before the near magnetic force yanked him back toward the tower with its rapidly changing stonework.

With mere seconds to work with, he flipped the hammer into a two-handed grip and allowed the velocity to carry him along the makeshift slingshot around the tower until the stone could no longer withstand his weight and collapsed taking him with it. He was deposited roughly onto the slick stone and almost immediately began to slide along a slanted tile roof.

From there it was only through a combination of some admittedly bullshit reflexes and a thankfully recalled lesson that included the history and location of every single gargoyle installed on campus (thank you Sir Pointy-Horn, you weird rock-obsessed fae bastard) that he was able to catch himself on the edge of the building and prevent his impulsive self-defenestration attempt from reaching its logical end.

The rest of the path down was a breath of relief in comparison, with parkour skills only slightly hampered by the ache in his limbs from where they had been nearly pulled from their sockets (he had worked with much worse this was nothing) so he still made it down in record time.

'And hopefully they wouldn't mind the alteration to the school's decor too much.' He thought as he crab-walked across a window ledge, stopping once he reached a suitable expanse of hedges before unceremoniously dropped down with an undignified flail into the not-to-soft greenery. 'Ah geez, I hoped no one saw that.'

"...White???"

(Someone saw it.)

Slowly, he turned around and who should he see but the Housewarden of Scarabia Dorm and possibly one of the most excitable boys he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. (Oh and it seemed Jamil was here too because of course he was.)

He could already see the awed sparkle in the taller boy's eyes as he bounced on his heels as well as the absolutely dumbfounded look on his minder's face and felt the creepings of dread run down his spine.

"That was amazing!!!"

...Fuck.

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"Where is he?!"

"I don't know, he'd probably have wound up somewhere around here."

"You don't think-"

"Wait, I think I see him!...Is that Kalim?"

"And you'd just have to do some sort of an acrobatics routine as part of the display, maybe we could work in a whole black-and-red astronomical theme because of the eclipse? Oh but the parade grounds outside of our dorm is kind of flat aren't they so that wouldn't really work but, ah! What about your dorm? It's got all those rickety edges and stuff for an added flare of danger plus we never really get to hang at your place, it'd be really fun! Say, is it really haunted like they say-"

"..."

"...White? Um, what-?"

Taking note of the approaching teens the short albino shot them his equivalent of a pleading look as Kalim obliviously continued to chat his ear off. How had things even come to this anyway? One moment he was being grilled by the boy about his previously unknown proficiency in the art of parkour and the next he had been treated to a full-frontal blast of Typhoon Kalim.

He'd just been trying to deflect the commentary by asking him what book he had in his arms there, but Kalim had somehow took it as an invitation to not only infodump about tonight's Crimson Moon Eclipse (which evidently was named so because of a once-in-a-millennium comet running interference between the seasonal red moon and their world or something to that effect) and what he learned about it from their most recent lesson but to go full-steam ahead and invite himself along to the viewing party he so graciously convinced (coerced) him into having back at the Ramshackle Dorm.

The newcomers had a hard time fighting back a snicker or two at the sheer absurdity of the event at least until Al-Asim finally noticed them.

"Oh? Hello! Have you all come to help us with the party tonight?"

The laughter stopped immediately. The elder of the trio flailed his hands in front of himself, as if to ward off the very notion. "Ah...no we-"

(The quiet force of Jamil's { glare } was something to contend with. After all it was a known law of the universe that Kalim's whims shan't be denied lest ye poor unfortunate souls suffer dire consequences.)

"...Uh. Sure?"

"Great!" Kalim clapped his hands together, twirling on his heel as Jamil followed behind. Those left behind shared a look as he sole adult of the group pinched the bridge of his nose with a stifled groan.

This was going to be a long day.

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And that was the story of how the four of them had somehow been roped into helping set up Kalim's party at White's dorm against the man's own wishes.

(And damn it all, he still had leaves in his hair from that godforsaken bush. He just wanted to hobble back to that nightmare of a safety inspection they called a dorm, take a shower in the very limited hot water they had here, then conk out on that threadbare mattress for the next twenty-eight hours. But was he going to get to do any of that? No. Because he now had to set up for a fucking party. What the hell? This was some next-level bullshit.)

What followed was one of the most ridiculously exasperating spy-vs-spy shit that any of them had the misfortune to experience.

On one side: Deuce & Trappola —the leaders of this whole venture and seemingly the only ones who cared enough to bother when it was first brought to their notice that something was seriously up with their resident janitor cryptid/semi-responsible adult figure in the first place– and their allies; Jamil (who was unwilling to let the earlier display go with that half-arsed explanation if only for the sake of Kalim's wellbeing), Sebek (who had just arrived with the caterers, citing the need to scope the venue out ahead of schedule for his fellow dormmate's safety), and Epel (who had honestly just came to get away from the rest of his dorm for a bit and succinctly been roped into this tomfoolery the second he set foot through the door.)

Their mission: figure out what the fuck was up with Ramshackle Dorm (and perhaps its sole caretaker by extension) without getting waylaid by various shenanigans or arousing the suspicion of the scrungly man himself.

And on the other hand, we had the aforementioned albino himself. Someone who was shanghaied into this whole mess and was now two threads away from a panic attack because of the newfound need to race around the dorm without anyone else noticing in order to collect all of his esoteric necromantic research material so that he could squirrel it away in the hidden bolthole before some poor unfortunate bastard managed to stumble upon it.

(Because, as it turned out, even in a whole ass different world where magic fuckery was commonplace and weirdness was mundane anything having to do Death and What Lied Beyond was evidentially still a step too far. Hypocrites.)

It was only a small mercy that he had managed to talk Al-Asim down from inviting everyone and their mother's dog but it seemed that he couldn't get out of having a collection of eclectic individuals such as the other Housewardens and their friends along with a small handful of others from being placed on the summons.

(Really, for those sorry beings who were either free with absolutely nothing better to do on such a dreadful night as this or selfsame others who were actively avoiding such responsibilities and decided the only way to spend the time doing so was in this OSHA violation of a place were the only ones who would even bother anyway. Maybe it was a good thing though as having a bunch of friends would make this whole stealth thing a lot more difficult for him. Besides who would really want to hang out with a grim weirdo like him? After all he's done? Plus he wasn't winning any awards for his personality after all. The idea was laughable really.)

And then there were the outliers, such as the trio from Octavinelle who had just arrived to do the catering and had yet to be involved in shenanigans but once either twin caught wind of what was going on the would assuredly join in on the chaos, or Riddle who had taken one look at the mess they were making thought the whole thing ridiculous and —after yelling at the group a bit– left to help clean up, Kalim who remained wholly oblivious to the other's antics as he continued to decorate.

And finally we had Grim, who had originally been on team investigator but got distracted halfway and decided to raid the kitchen for snacks. As one does.

('It's kind of funny...' The furred cat-beast thought to himself as he pawed futilely at the locked cabinet door that he knew White kept some salmon jerky behind. 'But, like, in a really messed up way. Does that make sense? Maybe? Eh, the ghost would probably understand. Y'know, if they were still around. Those guys would probably think the whole deal was a riot.' He growled at the makeshift child-lock, forked-tail flicking in annoyance. 'Yeah, fun guys once you got past the murder attempts. Shame they seem to be rather sparse lately. Wonder why that was?' A pointed ear twitched as he heard the service door to the kitchen open behind him, 'Who knows. Maybe White finally got fed up and made on good on those threats to exorcise them?' Blue eyes gleaming he turned on the newcomer, "Oi! Mr. Octopus, open this door for me! I want treats!")

The wisp of a man just narrowly managed to catch himself from planting face-first into the rough-shod flooring. He shut his eyes, pressing a sweaty glove-covered palm against the wall as the world swayed.

"Just keep it together." He murmured lowly, mentally shutting out the jovial sounds of teenagers at play as he slowly pathetically crawled down an adjacent hall and out of sight.

"Just keep it together-" He repeated, biting back a rush of bile as he hefted himself to his feet. "For a bit longer..." He screwed his eyes shut, letting out a breath through clenched teeth. "Then you'll be done with all this nonsense and you can rest."

(But that's the thing, he would never be done would he? There would always be some new disaster waiting in the wings to rear its ugly head. Some new Overblot Incident caused everyone and their overly uptight mothers insisting on foisting their problems on a bunch of overpowered children instead of dealing with it themselves. Some sort of *magical mishap* that needed 'his special touch' to solve; nevermind there was a number of other people who could do just as well, if not better, but were probably actually qualified to do so. Some poor soul who had finally surrendered to the darkness in their hearts and let it consume them body and soul so now he had to be one to put them down before they could hurt anyone else-)

A harsh smack to the cheek, "C'mon, get your shit together man." He hissed. "It's just a little exhaustion. This is nothing compared to back then, soldier. Don't let it get to you."

After all, to show weakness was to invite negativity into one's soul. To invite negativity into one's soul was to invite Death. And to invite Death for someone like him...

Well. The less he said the better.

"...White?" Said individual stilled. Epel's voice didn't really carry all that much, not as much as someone like Sebek's did, but honed ears could still pick up the distinct cadence of the shorter teen's masked twang over the chaotic din emanating from the Guest Room. "Hey, just to let you know: Riddle said that Trey and Cater just texted him that they still need to study for Trein's make-up exam tomorrow so they can't come tonight and that they were sorry."

"Y-Yeah?" He called back, resting his head on the wall in front on him. It felt nice and cool. (Or maybe he was overheated? He couldn't tell.) "I'll tell Azul we need two less meals then."

"Also Ace was being a dumbass and tossed Sebek's hat up on top of the chandelier and now Sebek's trying to strangle both him and Deuce for it." What. How the hell... Stupid question, magic. It's always magic.

He resisted pinching the bridge of his nose. "I see."

Well, that at least explained why the green-haired teen was being louder than usual. "I need help with getting it down? Can you c'mere?"

"Y-Yeah. I'll...I'll go grab a stick or something and be right there. Just give me a second!" He called back, a grey eye slit open and the Scheele's Green shaded wallpaper filled his vision as he stared blankly down the hall. "Yeah, sure. Just deal with it. Like you always do. After all the almighty janitor's work is never done." He tiredly let out a quiet laugh.

...Was it just him or did that laugh sound a tad bit bit hysterical?

Eh. It was probably fine.

(His work with these 'restless souls' would never truly be 'done'.)

[N ̷̢̧̧̟̬̗̋̈͜ͅé̸͉̍ ̵̡̢̫̣̯̰̹̪͇͕̅̎̇͒͂̕͠v̵̻̀̀͐̈͛̐͛̚͝͝ ̵̺͚̯̪͓̳͊͌̔͒̏ẹ̴̛̭̟͕͔̞̏̈́̓̋͂̾̕͠ ̵̼͉͍̼̅̎̐̔̇͘͘͝͠r̴̢̡̯̜̗͕̹̓͠ͅ ̷̢̧̺̙̫͉̔̐.̴̀͆̓̐��̠̮̝͍̙͚̝͔̒̿́̊̆]

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He was three seconds away from giving in to steadily rising urge and strangling these chucklefucks. Would he be in deep shit for doing so? Yes. But it'd be worth it. Honestly, if he didn't know firsthand how chaotic teenage boys could be (having been one himself once upon a time) he could've sworn they were doing it on purpose.

It had taken them around thirty minutes and eventually just resorting to throwing random items at the chandelier but they had finally managed to get Sebek's hat down and stop the uptight kid from bringing any more ghosts into the world.

But then it was Azul's turn to inform him that Grim had somehow managed to get into the pantry (again) and proceeded to eat all of his salmon jerky (again) so he had to go scruff the little gluttonous bastard and put the recovering Tappola on Grim Watch (and for some extra insurance —with Riddle's blessing of course– Deuce was placed on Ace Babysitting Duty) while he finished with Jamil and the Octavinelle Boys in the kitchen.

Every moment he managed to finish something it seemed like someone would something else or there was something or another that need his input so he couldn't have moment's rest and (not that he would admit it) but he was very visibly beginning to flag.

One silver-lining was that —save for a single item– he had successfully managed to scoop all of his strange curios with everybody else none the wiser.

The last thing on the list being a sole lined journal, one he had dutifully scribbled in ever since he managed to snag it with his 'ruthless bartering skills' from Mr S's Limited Item Shop during his first visit to the School Store. (Though if you asked him, it was really just a glorified clearance bin but if the man himself or his spectral familiars ever heard him call it such a thing he would probably get pissed and cut his supply off and then where would he get his smoked salmon treats or the ground amethysts and unstarched linen he used to make gunpowder talismans?) The red cover of which was currently peaking out from underneath a threadbare pillow that Grim liked to use for napping.

All he needed was to find the right window to nab it and then he'd be golden. However, already an hour in and he had yet to put into practice his slight of hand, and with everyone trapezeing about it only added to the challenge. It was only by a stroke of luck that he had managed to distract the room's newest occupant —(Riddle this time; taking a much needed break from Kalim's...exceeding enthusiasm. Understandable.)– long enough for him bend down and snag it.

Quickly standing up (and nearly keeling over in the process when he overcorrected) he waved off the boy's worried exclamations with a patented placid expression as he subtly slipped the notebook into his back pocket. It was a bit disconcerting though, to be fretted over so adamantly by someone ten years his junior and he didn't quite understand just why the other so concerned about him. It wasn't a child's job to worry about the state of their caregivers, quite the opposite really, and he felt a pang of guilt for even giving rise to the very notion. It had taken him a bit of roundabout conversation and even then the red-head seemed rather reluctant to let it go at least until Kalim emerged once more from the ether to further distract his fellow Housewarden.

Other eyes occupied he drew back into the shadows before quietly edging back of the room and down the hall. Soon the soft lights grew dim and he found the chatter of excitable teenagers through thin walls muffled as he slipped through the darkness of the old dorm.

Normally with it just being Grim and himself as the sole living occupants of their Ramshackle home these rooms stood vacant and abandoned, left to collect dust as a testament to what once was a lively home now forgotten by time. But every once in an odd red moon he found himself wandering about these old bones, his presence breathing life into the place as he took solace in the solitude. This was one such occasion.

Slipping through the threshold, he carefully tugged the knob until the door clicked shut—

Silence...

–and finally all noise ceased to exist.

"Finally."

He let out a long sigh, letting his forehead come to rest on the weathered doorframe—

[O̵̻̕h̶̰̕ ̸̣̅p̸͕̽ö̶̻́o̸͙̚r̵̩̈́ ̴̥́c̶̟̽h̷̢̑i̴̤̚l̶̊ͅd̵͎̽è̸͇ ̴͕̾ȯ̴̼f̵̛̜ ̶̥̾m̷̪̔a̵̺̚n̶̠̓,̵̟̀ ̷̩̒á̵͇l̶̟̋ẁ̷̼ã̷̤ỵ̷̉ș̴̆ ̵͎͑ġ̸͍i̷̻͠v̸̦̏i̸̠͝n̶̟͑ǧ̷̰ ̴̱̈t̶͚̿h̶͉͐y̷̥̆s̸͖̎e̵͕̎l̴̍ͅf̷̗͘ ̶̤̊t̵͔͝o̸̤͠ ̸̖̀o̵̡͒t̶̯͗h̴̩̀ë̴̩́r̶̼͘s̸̻̈́ ̷̙̾b̶͔̿u̷̦͛t̷̬̑ ̵͕̌n̸̈́ͅe̴͍͐v̸̪̊e̵̫̍r̴̰̿ ̷̣̚b̵̠́e̵͔͘i̴̻̓n̷̝̋g̷̯̚ ̷̻̓g̷̬͘ì̸͙v̵̝͂e̷̡̅n̸̙͠ ̴̀ͅt̷͉̄o̷̝͋ ̸͍́i̶̲̅n̸͔̐ ̴̢͋r̵͎͗e̴̫̔t̴̥̕ú̷̘r̵͖͊n̵͈̅.̵̖̑ ̴̘̓ Y̵̫͂o̶͓̐u̷̮̎ ̷͍̋g̷̢̈ĭ̸̳v̵̝͂e̸̙̔ ̵̰̽ḁ̴̐n̵̤͛d̴̪͝ ̷͕̇y̶̟͐o̵̪̓u̵̢͌ ̶̧̾g̶̞̾ȉ̶̢v̶̀͜ě̷̜ ̵̯̒à̶̦n̶̹̓d̶͙̽ ̸̱̚y̸̝̚ō̷̱û̵̹ ̸̳̅g̴̹̾ḭ̷͗v̶̘͌e̵̖̚ ̴̢͝b̴̯͒ǔ̷̡t̸̡͠ ̵̺̀i̵͍͐t̶̹̕'̸͗͜s̴͙̍ ̷̹́n̷̮̒ę̶͆v̶̜́e̸̘̐r̸̩͛ ̴̮̈́ê̶̗ņ̵̇ơ̶̹ũ̴͜g̴͈̃ḩ̶̓ ̷͙͆í̵͙s̵̰̋ ̶̨̀ĩ̷͖t̸̛̩?̴͉̋ W̶͖͙̓̃h̷̞̖̓͌ỵ̴͂,̵͇̰͂ ̸̹̇ỹ̸̟̀ǫ̵̼̈́̆ù̸̙ ̸̭̕c̸̣̹̓̍o̸̤̅ų̴̛̄ḷ̸̰̇̓d̷̝̀̒ ̷̧͍͋̕ē̷̞̜̏v̸̜͕̌͋ȅ̴̩͍n̸͍̾ ̸͔͐͘ģ̴̧̉ì̸̝̦̓v̴͈̙̇è̴̡̱ ̴̙̈́ͅy̸̙͔̽̇o̸̯̲̔û̶͉̩̕ř̷͙ ̸͈̑̅v̷͂ͅë̷͈̌ṛ̷̺͂y̶̥͎̾̈́ ̷̠̆ͅs̴̢͇͆̐ọ̷̳̔̒ū̴̟̉l̴̢͊ ̴̤͌̕a̵̼͎͌̚ṉ̸͝d̸̹̹͂ ̸͚̤̎t̴̮̞̋̉h̴͕̤̚͝ȯ̷̲͉s̴͉̎͠ě̵̜̩ ̴͇͕́͗f̷͚͕͆ó̵̯ơ̷͍͔l̴͎̈́s̷̬͇̽̽ ̴̗̱̚w̶̱̪̆́ö̶̦́̇ṷ̶̀̕͜l̴̬̥̅̓d̵̲̍̂ ̴͓̯͛̍j̵̤̑u̶̜̔͂͜s̵̼͝t̶̢̠̊͆ ̷̙̾ͅl̴̝̊̂ą̸̛p̵̩̃ ̸̨̰̒̎ǐ̴̱̾t̷̻̲̅ ̶̞̟͛u̸̺̜̇p̵̨̤̕ ̷̲͊ḽ̵̛̛ǐ̵̖͔k̶̳̳̃͗e̵͈͒ ̷͎̾f̴̦̜̋ŕ̸̘̹̓e̶̡̝̾͝s̴̖̯̽̊h̴̗͑ͅ ̴̺͔̀a̷̺̓m̸̤̓b̶̨̈́̐r̴͖̐͜ò̴͖s̴̺̎ͅi̸̩͗a̵̰̙̿̃ ̸̬̽a̵̬̹͐̎n̸̪̈́d̵̤̖͌ ̶̡̓̅ţ̸̍h̴͎̘̐e̶͎̟͌ ̴̤̎m̷̞̠̈́o̶̥̠͠m̴͗͊͜e̸͇͛̓n̸̲̂̄t̵̺͚͂͛ ̵̧̃͝y̶̗̕ọ̸̉ų̵͙̑ ̶̭̈w̸̻̉ȇ̸̗r̴̠̎e̶̖̅ ̵̹͌b̷̧̲͆l̷̟̗͠e̷͎̾͠d̸̤͉̏̓ ̴̮̘͌̐d̶̘̠̎͑r̵̪̾y̸̩͛͌ ̶̠͇̏͘t̴̞̀̈́h̷͔̟̽͑ẹ̶͕̇y̵͕͎̚ ̶̯̉̇ẘ̶̗̜̄ȍ̸͎ṵ̷͖́l̸̤̈d̸̛͎ ̷̨͚̉͆a̵̡̼͆͌ŝ̵̛̪͙k̵̹̤͝ ̷̼̭̕ẅ̵̺h̷̫̥̾e̵͈̠̾ṛ̷̳͊ȇ̴͖̚ ̵͔̌̾t̷̟̯̉h̸̞̏̊͜é̴̳ ̶̗̝͐̀ǹ̶͖e̵͈̿x̶̤̫͝t̵̜͐ ̴͚̹̒͒s̶̘͇̎ě̷̞̭͝r̸̠̲͆v̵̭͐i̴̦͕͝n̶̬͑g̵͚̦̾̋ ̵̺̾w̵̙̼͘͝á̶̤̽s̸̖͑̌.̷̞̟͠ ̷̘̑H̶̜̀ỏ̶̳w̷̖̒ ̵̫͆ṕ̴̬a̸͙͑ṱ̶̈́ḧ̴̯́e̵̞̓t̶̞́i̸̗̋c̸͕͆.̴͍̔.]

—And quickly choked on that breath.

The blood froze in his veins and he felt himself going completely still. He felt cold. That...voice. That horrible voice that continued to haunt his nightmares to this very day. He k n e w that voice. Oh, god.

And it seemed that the speaker was wasn't done.

[Ẽ̵̆��̨͚v̵̹́e̸̡̛̞͝n̴̮̙̋̉̕ ̷̰̽a̴͓̝̩̎f̸͚̃͋͝t̴͔̆̏̓e̵̤̋͋̏r̸̼͔̈́ ̵̱͋̋b̷̢̛̺͔͆̇r̸̗͙̠̿͘ǐ̶̞̫̒͜ǹ̴̺̈́g̴͈̥̽i̶͍̺͛͐n̴̤̋̑̽g̵̫̉͌̚ ̴̨̭̉b̵͓͚̖͝á̸̝̔̍c̸͉͛̏ḱ̶͉̂͜ ̵̱̜̈͐t̷̫̝̟́̑h̶̡̯̮͆̐ő̷͓͘s̷͔̄́͝ė̵̩̝͙̂ ̶͈̕s̵̡͓͛̇͘c̷̞̟͌o̶̻̼̎ͅr̵͚̪̺͐̀̇n̷̹̹͐ȩ̶̔d̶̢̯͖͝ ̶͖̀͜ÿ̸͍͇͂̀ọ̶̼̟̆̽u̷̘̼̒̈́ͅț̷̈́̕ḧ̵̨͉́̔̀͜ ̴̯̪̈́f̵̯̯̓́r̴͚̗͝o̷̼̽̑m̵̛͕̺ ̸͉̂t̵͎̟͈͐ȟ̷̝̥͊̿e̴̛͙̮ ̸̢̤̌̌̉b̴͕͝r̴̲͚̆í̸̢̻n̷̗͌̄̈́k̵̢̅́ ̸̓̍ͅṱ̸͛h̷̨̤̍a̷̳͌t̴̡̰͂̓̆ ̸̫͎̻́̒̈t̶̯̆͝͝h̸̰̜̔̑̿e̵͖̣͘ͅy̶͈̦͑̌̄ ̸̹͈͗͌t̶̟̝̒̏̾h̸̡̑͑̓e̶͎͕͍̒m̶̟̰͆̚ŝ̷̗̬͑͌ę̷̘̟̎l̷̖̼̆̎͒v̵̘͔̭͌e̸̞̫̅̚s̴̩̋ͅ ̶̛̺͕̣́̏r̷̞̟̙̿ë̷̥̬̯̀ű̷̥̠̞ṣ̷̛̭̄͠e̷̗͙̓̊͒d̸̫̔ ̵̪̋̄t̴̘̼̭̀̓̍o̵̫͌͘ ̷̜̟̪̓d̸̲̹̮͒o̵̳͊ ̵̮̇̈ș̷͓̽̈́̄o̷̲̩̫̎̎ ̴͈̬͋͘͜͠h̸̗̀̿͐ọ̷͇͍̅w̷̳̒̑ ̵̲̠͆͜d̵̬̤̣̑̀͛ȯ̷̩̞͋̈ ̷͇̯̱̓̚͝t̶͓̲͝h̸̬̝͛̔̚ͅê̸͇̣̾̊y̵͇̙̋̋ͅ ̴̯̄͑r̵̨̡̫̓̀̍e̶̞̺̘̋͂w̶̦̋͐a̶͎̚r̵̠̫͋d̸̢͇̈́̃͐ ̵̯̬͙̉̐̾y̴͚̿͝ṓ̴̢͉̟ù̸͓̔͑?̶̟̝̐̆͝ Ẃ̶̧̜͈̲̣̀ĩ̸͔̰̬ţ̵̟̱̘̳̄̈́̈́̀̑̽h̵̡̲̲̉́̓ ̸̡̹̘̘̪̎̀̃͠t̷̳̑̃̒̀̎h̵͙̤͖̮͉̳́̍̄͗͠i̷͍̜̓̈̚͘s̴̟̭̳̲̗̈́́̎̈̕ͅ ̶̯͓̞͖͎̤̂t̶̩͉̩̯́͊̍͝͝h̵̬̿̈̀͘r̸̡̢̮̞̎͆́e̸̟̽a̸̡̢̹̩͍̚d̸̨̈́̅b̸̡̼̳̿̎͊̍̒͘ͅa̵̡͔̭͎͛͆̀͆̐̚ŗ̸̟͉͔̑̇̔͌͝͝e̵͇̪̱̣̾͛͛͌ͅ ̵̻̅̃̀̚ͅh̷̼̘̓̀̉͐͑ọ̵̡̞͓͓͂̉̚͠v̸͔̺̗̯͇͗̿̍͠e̶̺̼͆̍l̸̹͗̆ ̸̧̰̬̠̹͑̈̒̿a̸̢̢̨̝̔͑̿͊̾̍n̶̛͔̻͑̾̈́̒d̶͖̈́̒̑̅ ̷̨̩̣̀̾̈́̾̓̕s̷̤̾̀̑͋̃̓e̸̞̲̞̥̖̪̽̈́̇c̴̢̺̻̣͙̹̈̽ǫ̴̰̜͍̓̈̚n̴͈̞͎͖͂̽͗̏͝d̷̨͓̭̬̱͂͊-̷̠̠̈́̓̑̋̕h̵̯̲͔̒̉̌̿a̸̠͑n̷̲̭̮̱̜̊͂ͅd̷̲̽̓̓́͠ ̵̻͌͊s̸̼̻̯̑͒̓͠ͅũ̷̠͓̘̞͌̄p̷̛͕͈͈̱͕͛̂̉͋ṕ̸̯̀l̴̨̦̮͆͗̆̒̆́i̴͚̘̥̿ê̷̦͂s̴͍̟̔͜͝ ̶̨̹̍͌͜t̷̫̒̓̍̀́͝ȟ̸̼͘͠ǎ̵͈͛̒͝t̵̖̣̲̓͑̕͜ ̶̡͉̙͓͋̑͒y̷̮͊̕o̷͂́͒̌��̧̣̮̦ų̶̹̟̱̋̑͒͝ ̵̰̓͂́͌́̌h̸͚̪̼͕̜͚̑̌̑͂͂a̶̞̬̾̈́̐̌̓̄v̵̦̮̼̽̽͛̾͘͜e̵̺̦͎̰̭͉̕ ̷̱̃̊̽̈͠ẗ̷̪̰̥̮̳̭̆̽͐̔ǒ̸̻̳̚͜ ̷̢͎̞̠̥̾ͅf̸̮̬̃́ĭ̴̢̩̲̍̾́g̵̤̥͈͐h̶̡̹̲͔̞̺̋̃t̷̯̀͆̓̚ͅ ̵͔̃͊̒̔t̶̢͠͝ͅo̸̼̜͋͂ȍ̵̘̜̲̯̙̉ṫ̸̤̬̞̠͊̀̆̐͝ḩ̶͈̑͑͜ ̶͖̔̑͑͑a̵̛̹̮͍̤͌̈́́͝n̵͕͙̎̆̒̇ḑ̷̼͍̗̩͛̓̌̕ ̵̢̡̻̻͖͇͊̊͋͌̊n̶̟̜̻͎̮͒à̷̡̬̝͆͆̈́͘ï̶̡͇͇̞͑͊̓̏ͅl̵̡̼̱͒͂̀͂ ̴̅̀͒͜t̸̮̟̬̑̈́͝͝ȏ̶͉̮̘͇͉̒̿̐͐̆͜ ̶̧̗̝̖̮͓̊̾̕ģ̸̱̭̩̾̃̀̒͘͜e̸̡̗͗t̶̞̘͎̾̿̓̎ ̶͓̈̔̔͗͜͝f̷̥̻̲̓̾̈̌̒̚r̶̹̻̲̹̱̆̆̀̉ȏ̴̩̥̮̠̫́̾̾̐ͅm̷̛͐͑͐̚͜͝ ̶̧̥̮̬̰̜̈́́̚t̴͔̭̯͍͎̣̂̿͝͝h̵̩͉͇̓̄̓͘a̶͉̮͛͆̓̈̊̚t̴̝͓̩̑́̅̚͜ ̴̩̮̜̊̽̉̈́ȍ̷̧̥̤̼͙̅̑̆̍ͅl̶̡͍̞̱͙̻̎̓̾̽̚d̴̩̞̂̀̃̽̈́ ̶̹̂̌͋c̸̨͍͎͕̀̂̎ớ̶̠̪͜r̴̜͙̳̒v̵̛̞̭̗̗̳̀́̿̀̽í̵̫d̵̻̲̔͛̈́͗̚?̵̻̥̬͉̦̣͊͋̃͠͠ Ẃ̵̱̟͕̻̈́ͅi̴̡̿͠t̴̲̆ͅh̴̯̰̉̀̾͝ ̴͔̭̳̄͒͑b̶̼̗̝̽̂͝ḷ̴͇͚͈̪̍a̸̬̳̠͉̾m̶̦̦͙͐͌̒͂e̷̪̬̮̮̼̒̿͐̈́ͅş̴̺͓̙̺̘̉͂̐̔ ̸̨̟̬̹̥̒̓̽̒̒͛͜a̷̺͚̟̒̎n̸͕̬̖͛̓̒͊d̸̡̨͎͖̣͈̽ ̴͕̟̈̌̓a̶̪̥̒̄c̵̨͎̺̬͒̆̉c̸̺̯̙͉̋ͅu̶̹͖̟̬̯̎͗̾͗͌͝s̶̜̗͗̊̋á̸̠͎̹̥͉͚͊͋̅͝͝t̵̢͓͈̙̥̫̊̔̅ỉ̵̤͕͓̈́̈́o̴͍̯̼̞̤̅̒̾͘ņ̵͕̞͉̩̽̈́̚ ̵̦̎͝͝t̷̥̱̟̓ḩ̷̥͍͓̅͑͒͠e̸̙͂̓̽̚͘ ̸̮̥̩͓͓̣̀̊͐̃͂̚v̷͙̣́̀̆̑̈e̷̠̪͎̱̋͌̓̊͠ŗ̸̹̙̥̥̤̀́̂͋̈́͝y̵̨̺͈̟̝͉͊̊ ̷̬̃͝m̸̗͔͛͌̕ỏ̶͎͖̪͈̏m̵͈̱̿͛̇̉̄̽ẽ̷̢̱̇̕͝n̷͙̳̎̃͂͠t̸̛͍̻̅̀ ̴̰̮̂̐t̷͎̳̥̬͓̒̿̀̕ͅh̶̡̡͉̿̓̽̉í̸̧̨̞̲̜̼̅n̶̺̖̭̣̾͛g̷͔̥̤͗͆̐͝s̵͇͖͚̱̯͓̀͛̃̿͌ ̶̙̃ĝ̵͍̦͙͚o̶͇͛͛ ̵͕͛̓̔w̵̡̞͈͕̎͐̾͒̓r̴̨̡͈̜̈̋̂ō̴̫͖̰̻̫̪̋n̶͚̹͒͊̋́̾g̶͕̎͗̈́͂̕ ̷̫̓͗͊̽e̷̘̟̥͎̓́̅̈́̚v̶̡̦̀͌ę̴̰̻͙̊̐̾̄̾͠n̷̦͍̩̗̻̐͋͐̕͘ͅ ̸͈͎̠̠̯̞̀̃̏͠͝í̴͔̥͈̰̿̌̕͠͝f̷͍͖͗̈́̅̈́̅͘ ̸̇ͅȳ̷̼̤̹͕̬̆̇̍ơ̵̝͐̃̑̔͜u̴̞̖̘̟͒̈́̅̋͋͗ ̸̘̪̟̤͊̾̋͑̚͝ͅh̵̙͉͈̲̮̉͗̄̕ḁ̶͉͔̇v̵̜̥̰̳̈́̉ẹ̷̱̾��̱̘ ̵̳͂̅̒͝n̵͓̉̋̓͝ͅȯ̵̹͓̳͒̀̐̕ ̴̎͐̒ͅh̸̡̝̹̜̜͚̓͌͑͠ȁ̵͍̜͍̖̭͙͛̏̀ṋ̶͈͌͋͊͌̎d̵̰̲̕ ̴̩͔̟̮̩͌̄̿͐̊́i̸̝͖͚͌ņ̶̛̟̫͈͍̦͐̀͐͝ ̷̨̧͈̪͕͉͗̌̈́͒̈́͠ṱ̸͈̽̉̅̽̾ḧ̵̦̖̥̹̬͕́̃̔͒̕̕ȩ̷̯̝̪̟͕͆̀̐̄̚ ̴̺̈́m̷̟̩͝ä̶̡͙͈̺̱͛̎͘t̵̘̙͚͍̖͛͆̈́̄̈́̚t̸͈̣́̇̓ĕ̸̤̬̖̻͚̠̊̀̐r̴̞̦̿́̾͌̉̕?̸̟͚͕̜̣͌̈́͂̚͘͠]

Now that...that wasn't fair. Not everyone around there was like that! What of the children he had helped during his stay in this strange phantasmagorical world. Of the lives he had managed to twist for the better?

What of the group of boys who through their many shared trials and tribulations he had (perhaps a bit one-sidedly) come to regard as his own. The kids who had went out of their way just to include him and were waiting for him to come downstairs so they could finally start their impromptu party.

[A̴̼͜͝n̷̦̽́d̴̻̀ ̸̮̠̿̚w̵̡̝̑h̸̫̞͑à̸̹̒t̶̞̞͝ ̸̡̮͆o̶̫̔f̸̯̈̓ͅ ̷̘̊́t̶͎̪̓̉h̶̟͆̏ĕ̶̗̜͒ ̴͚͒o̸̮͈͝t̶͍́ĥ̵͈ĕ̵̡͉̂r̵̭̺̄s̶̛̝?̷͇̻̐̄ F̸̭̈́ơ̴̳ṙ̸̞̟̕ ̴̡͌̕e̵̲͚̿v̷̯̉ḛ̵̰̍̈́r̵͕͈̈́ÿ̸͓́ ̴̼͔̽̈́ğ̶͉́o̸͎͕̐ḽ̸̲͐d̴̜̳̃e̷̺̳͆͝n̶̝͈͆͘ ̴͍̈́̉k̷͈̆̀e̷̢̻͠r̷̮̈́n̷̳̫̄̽ȇ̴͈̺l̸̥̯̀ ̷̮̻͒̕o̷͉̦̓f̴̧͓̊̇ ̶̛̰ẃ̶͇͝ẖ̶́̄è̶̢̥̀ä̴̘̥́͆t̵̳͘ ̷͕͖̽t̸̤͘̚h̴̤̽͠ã̵̺̀t̶̡̙̽ ̶͍̜̏̀é̵̠x̸͚̳̓i̶̩̱̍͛s̷͎̯̀̉ţ̶̲̃ ̸̡̻̀̏a̶̛͍̮͛ ̸̮̄́d̶̮̑͋ơ̸̙z̷͚̑ͅe̵̬̯̚ñ̴͎̙ ̸͕̀r̴͇̎̐a̵͎̕͠t̸̢̲͠s̷͓̼̊̚ ̸̤̙̃l̸̖̘͛a̸̺͓̓͋y̷̲͍̋ ̴̺̓ĭ̵̢̢͂ṋ̵̦͑ ̴̤͛̿w̴̖͗͆͜a̴͐͐ͅi̷͖͇͑͑t̵͙̫͗̅ ̸̥͕̃t̴̬̔́ò̷̦̺̎ ̸͎̓ḟ̷͜e̶̝͛a̸̠̓s̸̛̼͘ͅt̵̜͋̚ͅ ̸͎͈̀̈ơ̴̭̕n̵͉̾͘ ̶̣̦̐̕ṭ̶̂h̴̯͉́̄ẹ̸̳̓ ̴̫̱̄g̶̛̗̟͝ŗ̶͛a̶͎͛̏i̸̯͑͗n̷̲̜̊.̸͕͇̐. Ņ̸̛̪͎̥̞̦̲̄̃̓̃̑̀͐̍̀͗̅͛̿͘͠e̶̛̥̞̗͖̭̲͙̭̱̝͋̒͒͗̓̑̓̇́̉͐͒͑͝ë̴̢̥͕̹̺̪̓̀͊̿̈̚̕ͅd̸̜̲̪͖͖̲͉̺͌͊̓͗́̉̂̕ ̵̢̢̛͉͔̂̈́̇́͒̅̿̓͗̈̃͒Ȉ̵̭̫͔͗̉̚ ̸̨̯͖͕̜̭̭̪̟̍͒̆̃̋̓̏͛̇̐̈̌͆̑͠r̴̢̫̟̣̩̜͔̠͕̺̘͋͛̊͂͑͜e̸̡̛̱̯͍̣̬̥͎̤̬͆͌̌̾̍̓̅͒͗͘͜͜m̴͉̠̯̮͓̪͖̻͎̫͕̼̍̽͊̾̿́̀̉̎̂̕͝͠͠į̸͕͖̬̼͙͉͇͍̲̯̖̱̅̈́͛̓̌́̾̅̑̈͐͒͘͠n̷̛̖̝̞͎̤̲̼̫͛̈́͛̑̈d̴͕͖͎̠̦̹̭͚̭̒̓͌͊̃̿͜ͅ ̸͉̼̗̦̣͉̝͚̰̠͚̝̥̙̋͊́̂̌̾͐̃̎̿̀̽̚͜ȳ̵̡̨̨̛̟̞̫͖̣̞̦̺̫̫͚̔̂̀̅̅͂̽̑̒͋́̄͂̈ơ̴̧͇̳̻̬̝̰͉̪̙̠̳̇́̐͒́̔̑́̅̂̈́̄̆̔̕ͅü̸͇͗̂̾̊̈́̅̓̓̌̑͂̓͋͘ ̸̧̱͕̗͎̜̩̐̿̒̍́͊̈́̌͒ő̷̧͈̭̻̦̗̞̰͕̺͗̽̌̈́͊̔̀̈́̈̃̚͜ͅf̷͍̦̘̓ ̷̧̥̜̗̱̏̃̀̓j̷̯̣͚̠̞̬̠̫̖̘̮͊̋̿̒̽͒̓́͂͒͌̚̚͝û̷̢̙̳͇͎̩̲̰̤͔̞͖̩̫̈́́͜ͅͅş̵̻̺͖̮̻̑̓̍̉̐̿̀̔͂̈́̌̿͒͘̚͘͠t̴̯̞̜͉̬̰̿̊͛̒̎̈͋́̒͜ ̴̗̩̥͒̿͆̍̌̇̌͝͝t̵̰͔͈̿̽͋̔͒̆͒̔͘̕͠ĥ̶̛̩͉̜̹̦͉̮̄́͑̈́̐͂̓͒̔͠i̸̺͙͕̍̅̽͂̓̆̌͠ş̸̛̣̦͕̞̭̖̦̰̪͎̱̝̀̀͊̔̎͒̈́̍̽̂͋̈́̚ ̷̡̖̠̭̬̦͍̞͊͊͌́̉̽̅̑́͝ͅm̴̢̞͙̠̰̼͇̰̑̃̽̀ơ̵̠͇͔̗͓̣̖̑́̎̿̈́̓̽͂͐̑̓̕̕r̸̛͎̺̱͇̺͈̮̳̺̟̥̙̯̙̭̪̾̓̆͛́͊͐̾ń̶̨͇̩̗̪̯̫͇͚̲̼̦͚͗͂̆͐͆̋̃̅̔̒̈́̏͌͝ḯ̶̞̍̓͌̎̚n̵̛͔̟̝̎̍̌͑̈̍̑̽́͆͑̚͠g̵̨̗̦͍͇̫̫̬̲̘̪̤͉̣̳̼͒̾̾̎͒̔̑̈́͒̀͗̈́̇̀̀͘͜͝?̸̛̩̻̓̾̍͐͛͗̇͊̎͒͛͠ Ơ̷̼̟̏̓f̵̪̋ ̶̗̙̒t̴̗̱̬̀̄͑h̷̢̥͐e̶͈̓ ̷̦͌͗̓ã̵̼̮̀͒ṫ̶͇t̵̹̹̣̒͛̚ḙ̵͈̾̔̀m̸̨̡̛̞̀p̵͍͂ţ̷̱͛͑̄s̴̡͔̜̓̃ ̵̛̹̄͝t̵̹̫̓͂o̶̺̔͊ ̵̗͖̾̏̈́e̴̮͕̪̓̈́̕x̷̻̻̊́e̴̙͊̎r̶̡̡̈́̈́̕ţ̸͚̳̃ ̵͙̽̄͐t̶̻̪͛̈́͗ḧ̵̫̗́̑̿e̵̯̞͂̆̈́ỉ̶͈̅ͅȓ̵̛̤̺̙͝ ̸̢̒̾͝p̵̞̬̽ē̶̻r̴̘̀͛͜c̸̩̠̑̉̄e̶̞͉͌̅î̶̺̠͖͑v̵̗͙̰̋̑e̶͉̺̒̓͊d̷̳͝ ̶̛͔́̍s̶͍̣̃u̵͓̥͔͂͘p̵̧͠ẻ̴͖͉̤r̸̠̓i̷͖̱͑o̴̘͌̋͘ṟ̷̱͋ȉ̷̧̩̻͋̿t̸̬́͐ͅỳ̴̘͜ ̴̦̯̽͑o̶̢͉͇͒̏v̷̝̳̎ę̶̈́ŗ̴͒̈́̏ ̶̢͙̾̊s̷̠͐ö̸͉̕m̵͚̌̋͗͜é̷̖̐̒ō̷̮̤̒́n̷̬̼̍͌ȩ̸̏̄ ̵͓̉w̵̡̲̌͝ḧ̵͚̃͌ô̴̜͕̘ ̶̡̣̖͂͛t̶͖͆͠h̷͇̗͍͆̏͗ę̸̂͗y̵̳̼̓͊͌ ̶̜̻̌d̴̬̫̿̽̍ȇ̴̻̞̳͛̕e̴̝̦͖͑m̵̻̌ ̸̥̬̔͛̎'̷̜̍͐̓ǫ̶͔̲̈̿t̸̢̀h̸̻̬͕̃e̵̝̽̆r̷̲̰͒̌'̶̫̥̗̓͌͘ ̴̫͔̂̓t̸͚̐͑͌h̵̜̗͖̉́á̶͔̜͙t̷̙̉͋ ̷͇̓v̴̼̼̓̕e̷̟͓̽͛͌r̷͕̻̈̔̊ý̶̺̯̙͠ ̵̲͖̫́͂ẇ̶̳͕͒e̴͗̎̄͜͜͜l̶̖̀̈́͝l̴̾̎̆͜ ̵̬̥̙̐́̋c̶̛̦̣͝ó̷̥ͅǘ̷̫̜l̵̛̟̈d̶̮̗͊͒ ̴̥͔̝̆͑̈́h̵̰͐a̶̲͈̳̓̏ṿ̵̎e̶̛̺̾ ̶̻̙͔͋́̅c̸̭̖̞͒̇ȯ̸̞̼͕̂͠s̵̟̍t̶̥̒̈́̒ ̸̬̕y̴͉͍̍̋̉o̵̬͚̳̓́u̸̞̽̉ ̴̺̋̏y̵̗͊̇ȯ̶̧̬̺̓u̴̟̣̓́̽r̴̼̰͈̀̈́ ̴̋͛͝ͅĺ̵̤͓ǐ̵̦̖f̸͙̊̉̑ę̷͓͙́̓.̵̛͚̰̗͊̓ Å̷̯̗n̵͈̱̍ḋ̸̤̙ ̷̘͌̅t̵͕͙̿h̷̙̭͂e̵̥̒̚ ̵͈̔͐͜t̵̢̹̊͘h̷̟̒i̸͖̐n̷̦̾g̴̢̣͆̑ ̵̼͝i̶̤̕ś̶̬͕,̵͙͒̀ ̵͙͐t̵̪͑ḣ̵̡i̸͚͂̄s̷̟̹̈́̉ ̴̻̓̌į̸͐̈́ş̸̛̬̔ṅ̴̼'̶͉̜͠t̴̙̱̃̿ ̸̨̄̄e̷̢̞͐͂v̵͓͝e̷̩̊ń̸̛̘̭ ̷̠̄t̵̨͆h̷̹̾̆e̴̘̺͊ ̴̱̒f̶̯͙͝ȉ̴̙̊r̸̪̞̂͝s̴̩̈́t̸̘͍͐͠ ̶͎̰̏t̷̹͔͘ị̷̐͝m̷͓̽͝e̴͎͒͝ ̵͔͍̉s̴͚͍̅̈́ó̸̲m̴̙͘e̶̥̪͊ṯ̶̢̓̃ẖ̵̉ī̴̞͕͆n̸͇̈g̴̛̺ ̴͙̎̈́ĺ̸͕í̶͎͒ͅķ̴̏͜e̸̮̒ ̴͈̓̋h̴̭̯͛̇i̵͍̎̂s̶̪̱͌ ̷̜̊͑ẖ̶̈́a̵̢̓s̴̡̔ ̴̣̒h̶̞̦̊̈́a̴͔͓̎̐p̸̘̙̑͐p̴͚͠e̶̺̮̚n̸͇̅ȩ̶̛̟͒d̴̏̕͜ ̶̹̀̓t̶̰̓̈o̴̘͋ ̷̫̤̀͠ÿ̷̺̆͜ö̴̰̜̀ú̵̲̉ ̶̮̑͆i̸̓̆͜s̶̻̀ͅ ̴͉͋ì̸̯͕t̸͍͘?̷̣̎]

He twitched.

[Y̵͚͐o̵̢̳̐̕u̶̪̮̒ ̷̜̼̊͒d̸͖̥̎̒o̸͉̺͐́ ̸̟͑n̷͉̐ỏ̷͖̬ṯ̵̤̽h̷̪̉̈i̶̢͙̊͝n̴̬̼͗g̴͔̃͝ ̶͙̟̃t̸̞̑̕o̸̙͂̓ ̶̩̌́s̷̖̆t̴̫͎̓ò̷̡p̴̭͆̚ ̴̗͘i̷̹͙̓̍t̴̜́ ̴̫̕ě̷̥v̶͎̾́ͅe̵̹͒n̷̠͈̎̑ ̷̨̓t̵͚͘h̴̻̽ọ̸͐͠ṷ̷̈́͊ͅg̶̫̋h̸̠̜͗̉ ̵̩̥̌̽i̷̪͊͠ţ̴̛̑'̵̳͗͛š̴͍ ̷̲̈́̃f̴̭͛̃u̷̲͗̐l̷̰̯̈́l̷͔̏y̵̪̩̒̍ ̴̭̄i̸̬̬̊͛n̷̛̗ ̶̗͆̈y̶͚͛ǫ̶̖͂̓u̴̧͗̄r̶͔̉͗ ̴̗̰̈́p̵̱͛ō̷̭͋ͅw̸̞̾̋e̷̞͋̂r̸̳̃̆ ̷̪͝t̶͕̝̓ǒ̸̰ ̶̲͊d̸̟̤̏͠ǒ̴̭̝͋ ̴̱͔̽s̴̱͛͋ó̷̡̳.̴͍͋̀ ̴̟̃̕Ỹ̶̪̭ȯ̸̭u̶̗͈͂ ̷̫́͜w̷̖̿̈́h̷͎̤̀ő̶̢ ̵̹͍͒͝h̵̢̢̑̅a̷̭͂̇s̵̛̜̜̉ ̶̰̰͆f̵̧̄ͅa̸̲̙̔c̷̣̀͠e̸̱̍̽d̴̞̏̈́ ̵͔͎̎ȟ̴̻o̶̢̎r̴̩̬̂r̴̥̱̒õ̴̯͉r̴͚̙͋̎s̵̨̛̳̀ ̸̻̐̒͜l̸̙̑̈́i̴̛̱t̸̡̏͛e̸̮̹͆̚r̷͍̐͒ä̴̯̰́̓l̵̝̚ ̸͕̈́w̷̻͗̍ơ̴͉̍r̷͎͠l̵̯̕d̸̖̬͌s̵͙͊ ̷͓̟̈́à̶̬w̸̧͕͋̈́á̷̤y̶̖̋ ̵̪͇͆t̶̻̏h̸̝̲̅̎a̴̯̯̐t̵̥̎̚͜ ̶̡̭͑t̵̫̓h̸̖̩̅e̴̤͠s̵̬̙̉̄e̷̯̙̽ ̴̝́͛w̴͕̳͘é̶̯̦a̸̛͚̖͆k̴̤͕͛-̷̪̓w̶͎̋̆ͅi̷̻̒͂l̷̫̈͊l̸̮̎̋è̷̗͝d̵̦͉̎̅ ̷̯͌y̴̲̔ō̸͈͇̚ṵ̶̝̓t̸̫͛ȟ̸̗̪͒ş̴̽͘ ̵͎̿̆w̸̛̩̐h̷̬̀ò̸̩̒ ̵̹͑y̷̦̌o̵͑ͅṵ̴̞̉͛ ̴̼̮̆̔s̴̲͋̎ǒ̵͕̩ ̵͓̻̈͌f̴̖̟̍ó̴͚͝ͅn̸̻̄͋ͅd̵̨̤̈́̕l̶̘̕͜͝y̶̰̍ ̶̱̀̉s̵̡̑͛ṵ̴̱̚r̴̻̬͗r̴̝͊̚o̵̖̜͂ų̴͈̓̕ņ̵͐͝d̴̬̪̎ ̶̤̍̊y̷̲̒ö̸̪̫ů̶̙͖r̵̗̐̋s̷̒̀͜ẻ̸̢̡̇ľ̷̥̼̿f̷̣̌ ̵͎͑̂ẅ̵͓͚́̎i̴̜̫͐t̴̖̾͘h̵͍̤̋̄ ̵̡͈̏c̷͓͊͆o̵̖͆̋u̵̘͆̚l̶͎͆d̸͈̜̑̈n̸̻̟̊'̴̛͙t̸͇̔ ̵̳̃̍ṗ̵̰̕ơ̴̦̩̋s̷̻̑s̵̢̠͐̇i̴͔̊b̵͈̐l̷̪̿y̷͕̿̊ ̷͙͛̈́ḓ̵͊̕ả̵͔́ͅṛ̶̼̽e̸̦͑̾ ̵̪̊̅ḩ̴͐̇o̸̪̰̅͝p̷͉̀ė̸͖ ̴̢̢̀̋t̷̹̔̾o̴̼͎͊̀ ̶̞͗͆c̷̡̱̔̈́o̸̫͒n̷̥̆c̴̜̿͘͜e̴͖͚͋͝ȉ̸̡v̸̦̠̎ę̷̽.̷̳̎̚ ̵̲̈Y̵͕͋̓õ̸͈̆ū̷̜̙̕ ̸̜̫̆w̵̺̍͑͜h̶̯̉o̸͗͜ ̵͙͌͆h̶͖͂a̶̟̖̚s̷̥̠̆ ̷̛̖̈w̸̝̾̇a̵̱̟͂͘t̴̹̤̀c̴̗̉ḧ̶͔́e̶̤̎d̶̡̟͊ ̶̗͂ͅṭ̶̇̈́i̴͈̓m̶̙̰̈e̸̤̚ ̸̧̦͝ȧ̸̢n̴̦̜̎d̷̩͊ ̵̧̻̌ẗ̷̮͖́̎į̶͚̊͌m̷͚̓e̴̦͆ ̷͔̅͘ą̵̥̈́̑g̴̣̺̏a̸̛̘͚̔i̷͔̓ṉ̶̢͘ ̶̧̥̋̈́a̸̤͍͘s̴̪̻̅ ̷̖̾̕ý̸̩͝ͅỏ̶͎ȗ̷͔̀͜r̴͉͚̈́ ̵̻̑͐b̶̓ͅŗ̸̠̕o̴̪̐t̵̤͋͛h̴̗̉̐è̸̠͇́r̴̥̱͝s̷͍̓ͅ-̴̭͙̓͌ï̵̠n̷̜͊-̵̩̌̒͜á̸͎̠ṙ̷͔͚m̶̛͚ṧ̵̡̬ ̵̳͖̿̓h̸̝̬̄͝a̵̡͛d̷̦̠̆̍ ̵̱͙̎͝f̸͓̑i̴̢̎̄n̵̤̔a̶͕̽͜l̴̗̒̋l̶̝͍͠y̴͖̰̾ ̶̼̈́͐f̴̛̞̞̿ȇ̶̢̈l̷̲̔͌l̷͚̎ ̸̛̝v̸̮̅i̴͖̊c̶̀͘ͅt̶͇͊i̴̹̚ͅm̸̼̮̚ ̸̗̻̀ṯ̷̫̈o̴̗̒ ̶͙͑͑t̵̮͂h̴̗̺̎e̶͔̅̓ ̶̠͆̔ͅd̵̡̗̈́a̵̹͓̎r̵̡̪̈́̌k̷̗̕ǹ̶̞͗e̸̢͔̽̀s̵͉͌́s̷͍͑ ̷̡͈̇̓i̵̱͉͒̐n̸̗̕ ̷̛̥̇t̶̡̙̆h̸̩͎̉ë̵͓̭́̑ḯ̶̝͈r̵̳̀̀ ̷̜̈h̸̫̄͝ę̵͆̄a̸̪̿̊r̸̢̞̊t̶̝̟͛̋ṣ̷̄̄ ̶͇̟͛a̶̬͒ṅ̸̠̞̿d̴̥̈́̎ ̴̜̅͝l̴̰̜̋͘e̸̹̩͗̚t̸̡͂͗͜ ̶̨̝͘͠i̵̳̅t̸̤̚ ̷͓̃͛c̷̢̝̽͠o̴͎̬̓ṉ̴͔̽s̶̜͓̃̈u̸̺͘m̴̰͌ě̶̠̯ ̷͚̈́ṯ̷͚̎͋h̴̥͌̿ȇ̵̘̩͘m̴̦̕ ̴̙̻̍̓b̸̤̗̆̕o̶̲̔d̴̼̙̒̕ÿ̷͓͇́ ̴̪̟̔͋a̸̤͗n̸͓̜̐d̷̬̙͂͒ ̵̰͍̊̚s̵̝̀ǫ̶͔̐ů̶̖́l̷̥͆̌ ̷͙̍̃b̴̗͊͜͠e̷͇͋f̴̧͔̋̚ő̵͓̾r̸͍͕͠è̸̹̾ ̵̒��̺̦d̵̨͙̀é̷̫͍l̶̰͝i̴̻̤̚v̴̳̝͊̏ę̴̱̄̉r̷̞̊͆ͅi̸̝̔ǹ̸̟̺̾g̸͙̒ ̵̰̚̕t̵̨̡̀͆h̵͔͍̆͘e̷̟͎̅m̷̞͕͗ ̵͕̍̀t̶͙͘h̷̡̟͋a̸̻͝͝t̴̹̕ ̴̫͒̈f̶͂ͅỉ̸̹͚n̵̗̳̄̚ä̵̧̦̾l̶̛̗͖͘ ̴̯̪͆̏m̴̼̯̾ë̷͙̕ͅŕ̷̘̦c̸̼̼͒y̴̠̱͑̚ ̶̠̐w̵͈̞̑i̵͈̿̐t̸̠̍h̷̼͍̉͠ ̴̣̣͆́t̴̖̊ḧ̶̺́͘e̶̬̥͋ ̵̭̓̂ş̸̮̔e̷̜̋l̶͉̝̑f̶̰̋̌s̸͔͘ạ̸̌͛m̶̗͂e̷̛̪ ̸̥̇̉a̷̤̔̄ḅ̸͠i̷̢͠l̶̗̔i̸̦̣̎ẗ̵͙͖́͂i̶̲̮̒͒e̴̝̅ŝ̷̭̆ͅ ̷̣̥̔̑d̴̙̤̍͊e̷̡̯͗ȓ̶̤͎į̶͎͗̈́ṽ̴͇͝e̶̫̔d̸͔̀͂ ̴̗̀̀f̸͚͛r̸̤̳̕ơ̶̡̬͊m̵̟̚͝ ̴̣̏t̶̰̆͑h̷̫̀̍ę̸͑͒ ̴͖̩̂̚v̷̾ͅẽ̷͖͜r̵̯̀͋ỹ̶͕ ̷̮͕͛t̴͍̹̀̎h̵̪͚̆͘ĩ̷̡̝ń̶͕g̸̭̩̿ ̶̠̈́͑ͅt̸̜́ḧ̴͚́ä̸̭́͠t̶̨͔͌͗ ̸̦̦̒̾l̴̫̰̃e̵̞̾͜a̸̖̓d̶̞̽ ̵̖̍͠t̷̞̍̽h̸̹͍̎̍e̷̠͗ͅm̶͍̦͊ ̸̘͓͌t̵̛͚͚ọ̸̀ ̶̩̎t̷̤͙̏h̵͔̽͊e̷͈͆̈ḭ̸̈́r̷͉͕̋ ̶̞̣̓d̵͖͕̏͗o̷̘͎͗ȍ̸͉m̴͕̅̄.̶̗́ ̴̬̹͗̚N̴̯̮̍ê̵̥v̷̲͔́͋e̴̡͇͠r̴̨͝ ̸͚̘̕͝q̶̧͆̓ǘ̸̺̒i̶̦̋͜t̸̢̻̾̔e̷͋ͅ ̷̧̦͗ḵ̷̓n̶̗̦̈́o̵̲̎̕w̴͍̫̌i̵͖͆͋n̴͎͈̆̇g̵̢̖͊ ̷̠̦̿̚w̸̳͓͛̔ẖ̵̈́̃ẽ̶͓̿n̷̯͐ ̶͙̟̊į̷͑̾t̸͒̇͜ ̶͔͠ẃ̶͕̫o̶͚̞̓̋ủ̴̟̽l̷̦̟̋d̸̟̑ ̵̡̞̉͘b̸̡̿e̶̲̔̐ ̶̖̄y̵͎̏̀ȍ̵̻ủ̵̟͖͛r̴̛͇͔̂ ̵͎̋t̶͎̫͛u̵̩̝͋̈́r̶̡̮̽n̴̗̖̚ ̷̟̀o̵̩̎̋n̵̖̤͂͘ ̴̨̈́t̸̰̅͐ȟ̴͙e̴̖̙͑̓ ̵̯̤̅͠p̷̛͠ͅy̷̘̑̈r̷̮͒ę̶͒ ̸̟̞̓a̵͖͐̾ͅs̸͎̱̓ ̴̪̫̽̅ẗ̸̡̳́h̵͉̏ĕ̷ͅ ̴͓̔̂c̸͇̫͆y̶̺͒c̷̹͊̄l̷̨̳̇̎ẹ̴̻͆͠ ̶͓̾c̷̨̞̅o̶̯͒͝n̷̯̄t̵̞͋̕i̴͍̚n̶̢̿͒u̵̪̪̓ě̴͇̀d̸͍̖͛̚.̴͊]

Okay.

There were a lot of things you could ignore, some things that you simply had to if only to keep the most tenuous of grips on your dubious sanity when one is suddenly thrust into an entirely different world with different policies, different rules of engagement and (potentially) fucking physics.

Sure, should he probably have clued in that something was up the very moment those weird ass visions brought about by the local talking mirror started. Probably. Or when the talking portraits scattered about the college started falling silent whenever he walked past, as if someone stepped on their graves. Sure. Or even when the sleepwalking had him waking up in the dead of night to find himself already staring out at the large glass windows of the dormitory as the rain steadily streamed down the siding.

(Yeah, actually in hindsight the sleepwalking was kind of a big red flag.)

And like, logically, he knew what he was doing was probably just setting himself up for failure. But coming from world where malevolent entities that fed off expressed negativity could and would latch onto any form of perceived weakness to turn it against you, that lead to some admittedly terrible coping mechanisms to deal with the crazy shit you saw.

(The fact that most of the planet didn't even fucking believe in said entities because of the vigorous propaganda campaigns brought about by numerous long-standing institutions didn't help much either. Thank you so much for that by the way. Way to made the job of cleaning up after these 'make believe ghosts' who could and regularly did wrack up a not-insignificant body count so much easier. Not. Also magic was fucking weird okay and he was working with severe chronic sleep deprivation and probably some form of shellshock so sue him for being little slow on the uptake.)

[Ă̶̗n̶̨̊ḓ̶̾ ̴̬̄y̷̰̚e̴͎͒t̶̥̐ ̶͇̊y̴̛̤ȏ̴̥u̵̗͛ ̵͖̒s̵̫̆ẗ̸͖́i̴̛̭ĺ̸̙l̵̛̼ ̶͉͋f̶̛͕ò̷̯ū̶̞g̷̳̊h̴̢͝t̶̎ͅ ̸̰̀f̵͈͊o̶̫͆r̸̤͗ ̷͉͂t̵͖͠ḧ̸̤ẽ̴͚m̷̿͜ ̷̮̏d̷̤̐e̸̼̎s̴̳̋p̷̩̄i̶͕̔t̴̳̓e̴͜͝ ̶͎̆k̶͙͊n̷̦̿ơ̸̻w̸͊ͅi̸̅͜n̴̬͝g̴̺̓ ̸̣̽t̵̠́h̷̍ͅa̷̫͠ẗ̸̯́ ̷͉̓ë̵̩́v̵̥͂e̸̘͌r̴̳̍y̷̘̾ṭ̶̍h̴̪̽ì̷̢n̷̦̓g̵̤̑ ̴͈̇y̵̪̾ó̶̠u̷̻̕ ̵̢̈d̶͕͊i̷̲͋d̸̪̀ ̴͈̅ǎ̷̭n̷͕̆ḓ̵́ ̴̭̊e̸̙̒v̷̭̏e̶̟̽r̴̳̈́ÿ̷̧́ť̴̯h̶̞̉ï̵̧n̴͚̏ǵ̶̳ ̸͉͝y̶̝̾ö̴̘́ų̸̆ ̵͖̿g̸̪͌a̶͉͂v̴͙͋e̴͈̎ ̷͉͘w̵̢̐o̸͖͋ù̵͚l̴͔͐d̴̖̾ ̷̪̚à̸̢m̸̠̌o̷͚͒u̴̔ͅn̵͔̒ẗ̴̜ ̸͈̆t̵̝̐o̴̺͐ ̴͊͜n̴͍͝ó̴̤t̶͇̓ĥ̴ͅi̴̬̓ṇ̶͐g̶̺͌ ̷͚͂i̷̧͗ǹ̴̜ ̴̩̓t̶̢́ĥ̸̡e̴͓͠ ̶̜̀ḙ̶̊ṋ̴̛d̴̡̆.̷̢̅ ̸͇͑Ť̵̠h̸̤͐à̴̖ṱ̵͝ ̸̫̉h̵̘̒u̴͖̍m̴̪̆a̴͈͛n̸̜͛s̸̻̒ ̶̛̜w̷͌ͅo̶̘͠u̵̺͠l̶̎͜ḏ̷̿ ̶̹̉e̸��͉v̷͕̉ë̵̙́n̵̢͛ṭ̷̃u̷̡͑ǎ̴͇ḷ̷͂l̵̤̚y̴̙͒ ̷̟̇j̴͓͊ụ̷͋ŝ̶̯t̷̬̆ ̶̼̾b̴̰̋e̸̲͝ ̶̰̿ċ̴͎ơ̵̥n̵̤̔s̷̛͉u̵̦̾m̷͎̄é̸̻d̵͈̿ ̵̗̈́b̷͓͠y̸̜͒ ̵̣̌ṯ̶̆h̶͝ͅe̸͉̓i̷̮̐r̴̐ͅ ̸̨́ṇ̷̌e̷͈͘g̶̖̏a̴̋ͅt̷̢͐i̵͎̓v̸̲̀i̴̽ͅt̷͔̋y̴̐͜ ̶̢͘a̵̤̕n̸̠͆d̷̪̓ ̴̰͘t̴̞̓ḫ̴͗a̷̛̱t̴͚̎ ̸͖͆y̴̯͛ỏ̴̲u̷̩͆ ̶̣̑ẅ̸͖́e̴̜͋r̸̲̽ḙ̶̈ ̶̨̕ṕ̴͓ă̴͚t̸͈͑c̷̪̃h̶͔͗i̴̥͊n̸̖̄g̴̟̈́ ̶̧̂u̶̝̍p̷̼͑ ̸͖̑ḁ̴͋ ̸̲̄ș̸͠ḣ̷̫ȋ̵͖p̴̟͊ ̴͕͛t̵͈͂h̷̯̔a̶͉͗t̴͖͂ ̵̟̐h̸̋͜ạ̵̉d̶̦͘ ̴̞̓l̸̳͋o̸̘͊n̷̼͆g̷̺͋ ̷͈̾s̴̞̄i̷̯̾n̸̢̄c̵̺̃e̶͚͌ ̴̝̿s̶̛̟ȃ̵̰n̴̂͜k̸̟̏.̴̠͋ B̶͔̕e̸͖͑c̶͍̅a̴͖̐ǔ̷̱s̸̗̎e̶̡̊ ̷͈̈́t̵̤͆ò̴̻ ̵̛̹y̷̲̅o̶̰̍u̵͈̓ ̷̗̓t̶̯̀h̸̼̅ả̵͕t̵̹̎'̸̧̂s̴̩̎ ̶͎̔j̸̻̀u̷̞̇s̶̖͌t̸͕̃ ̸͔̋ḫ̷̃ơ̵̬w̵̨͝ ̶̘̆ẗ̵̨́h̴̬̔i̵̲͆n̷̄͜gs̶̜̈́ ̶͙̈́w̸̩̔o̶͈͒r̸̗̍k̴͎̍ẽ̶̳d̶͖͠,̷̼̇ ̵̩̇ŵ̸̟a̸̯͝s̷̞̀n̶̤͒'̶͓̊t̴͉̎ ̵̢͑ǐ̴̗t̷͔͗?̵̖͌ ̴̛̘D̶͕̓è̸̜ḙ̶͛p̸̻̈́ ̵̳̽d̸͕̏ơ̵̹w̴̬͂ǹ̷̻ ̴̟̋i̶͚͐n̶̘̒ ̵̰͒t̷͐͜h̸̻̋e̶̩̎ ̶̦̔d̴̝͐à̵̧r̷̬͂ḱ̷̢n̶̚͜ḙ̸̍s̵̢͑s̴͚͠ ̵̖̑o̷̲͊f̵͕̈́ ̵̭͘y̶͓̐o̴̱̔ú̷̞r̵̫̈́ ̷̗͐ò̵̹w̶̤͂n̸͙̏ ̴͙̐s̸̥̀o̸̓͜u̵͔͌l̷͙̈́ ̵̜̈́y̸̫͝o̴͛͜ȕ̵͉ ̴̮͝t̴̖͆r̷̗͝ȗ̵̡l̶̠̓y̵͔̓ ̸̗́ḇ̸̈ẹ̸́l̸̗̏ḯ̶̮é̶͚ṽ̴̜ḛ̷̈d̶̘̀ ̶̺̅t̷͓̑ḧ̵̩a̶͚͂t̵͚͂'̷͍̃s̶̗̽ ̷̤͋j̴̄ͅu̷̪̍s̴̹͗t̶̀͜ ̸̤̓h̷͕̏o̶̩̚w̵̻̃ ̶̧̄h̴̻̚u̷̘͒m̷̟̒ä̶͎n̵̟͗i̶̟͊t̶͚͘y̴̰̓ ̸̩̐w̸̥̆ȧ̵͚s̶͚̒.̴̨̿ I̵ ̸s̸ ̷n̵ ̴'̴ ̵t̶ ̶i̸ ̷t̸ ̸?̸]

The air in his lungs caught. A pale hand came up to clutch at the fabric of his ill-fitting vest. He couldn't breathe. Turns out there are somethings you just can't ignore. Not when the devil himself was finally knocking at your door. Slowly, he t u r n e d a r o u n d .

[B̶̡̒u̸̦͝t̵̲̂ ̷͚̒t̵̢̐ẖ̷̄e̵̱͗ ̸̱͒m̵̗͘o̷̠͘s̸̫̋t̵͕̉ ̸̱̄d̷͕̏a̶̠͛m̷̪̅n̵͎̔i̷̥͌n̵͖̿g̶̭͗ ̶̲̅t̸͕͝h̷͔̔ỉ̶͖n̷̳̓g̶̱̀?̶̟͐]

Only to catch a glimpse of his figure reflected in the cracked mirror carelessly propped up against the opposite wall. He watched with a mounting horror as the figure contained within moved independently of his own form, the monster clad in his reflection having finally gained enough negative energy to properly manifest, twisted to face him as it spoke.

[H̴o̶w̷ ̵c̶a̴n̷ ̵y̸o̶u̶ ̸b̷e̵ ̷s̷u̶r̴e̵ ̵t̴h̶a̶t̸ ̸y̶o̶u̷ ̵a̶r̴e̸ ̸t̴h̶e̴ ̷o̸n̷e̶ ̵i̷n̷ ̶c̶o̴n̸t̵r̵o̷l̵?̸]

It's red eyes crinkled in malevolent glee as pale lips curled up into a fanged s m i l e...

[Sorry -̸̸̶̴̵̸̵̶̸̵̵̵̸̸̴̻͖͚͍͛̈́͗̂̀̉͋̚-̴̸̸̸̴̴̴̷̴̷̷̸̷̛̳͍̬̗̣͊̂͊͠-̶̴̶̶̶̶̸̵̴̶̸̸̵̴̴̷̸̸̵̸̸̡̛̗̙͙̹͓̘̗̹̈́̄͐̒̂̈́̽̕-̷̸̷̵̵̴̵̸̸̸̶̶̴̵̴̷̵̢̟̫̥̠͗̄̍̾̑̄̕͘͠-̵̷̴̸̵̸̸̶͈̦͉̻̀-̴̴̸̸̸̸̴̷̶̶̶̶̷̶̸̸̶̶̵̴̨͙̣͕̮͈̘̔̑̏̍̑̎̌̐̚͠-̶̷̵̶̶̶̴̴̸̴̴̸̶̜̥́̔̔͌̀͑͆͘ but it's my turn now.]

-x-------X-------x-------X-------x ( * ) x-------X-------x-------X-------x-

{Crash!}

"Damn it Floyd, be careful with those pans. We're on a time crunch and we can't afford any screw ups."

"Yeah, sorry." He rubbed his head, "Ah hey, isn't that Mr. Shrimpy?"

"What?" Jade's head perked up as he went to join his brother at the kitchen window. They watched as the pale haired man mechanically tried —then succeeded– in picking himself up off the grass. Looming much like his namesake, his hunched figure loomed over a pile of glittering something scattered about just out of sight as he clutched his arm tightly to his chest. However, he suddenly stiffened as if sensing the sets of eyes upon him. Slowly he rose and twisted to face the merfolk twins staring curiously out the open window at the strange new show.

"..."

"...?"

"..." He turned, blank-faced and briskly walked away.

The two brothers turned to face one another then back to the window, each with a curious tilt of the head.

"Weird."

-x-------X-------x-------X-------x ( * ) x-------X-------x-------X-------x-

Having gotten a significant distance away from the dorm and those contained within he stopped, hunched over as he gasped for air. Bit by bit his breathing leveled out but the raging riptide of feelings within given rise by the rampaging Phantom in his soul remained.

Through clenched teeth, a wordless sound escaped him as he desperately struggled to hold together the demolished fragments of his masked composure as the wraith lashed out at its impromptu jailer. Each tendril of void-like energy sent a wave of ragepainindignationdespairf u r y so potent that made him want to curl up into a ball and wait until the darkness consumed him just so he didn't have to feel it any longer. He breathed out...

"...Fuck."

His body faced the Alchemy Workshop's retention pond, the pain in his left arm a tenuous grounding point as the blood soaked through the thin dress shirt. It had been a wild gamble, stabbing himself with one of his knives but the sheer shock of the action had driven the other back enough to allow for him to make his escape. Sure it had been through window, but it wasn't like it had been the first time today he'd done so.

He grimaced, wincing at surge of sheer inhuman wrath emanating from his passenger. It was taking every single fiber of his being to continue to fight against the black-hole of negativity as to not be overcome but this far in he already knew it was a losing battle.

Grey eyes stared bleakly out at the sunset as it cast rays over the gleaming water.

(He never even got to hang out with the guys at the party and see the eclipse with everyone else. He didn't even get to say goodbye.)

He knew that it was only a matter of time before the Phantom overtook him. True he bought himself a little bit of wiggle-room but he needed to get far away, off Sage Island if possible and away from any populated settlements at the very least, and fast. Before it was too late and he was subsumed entirely under the fathomless entirety of that...monstrosity. (He needed to get away from everyone while he was still himself.)

(It had been a long time but he felt like he wanted to cry.)

"Little imp?" He startled and then the pit in his stomach bottomed out.

Oh no. No. Nonono-

"Damn it, wait up! You're lucky I run track... Huh? Oh hey, Mr. White! What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, hey! Sam...and Jack too! What a surprise!" He replied, his voice pitching up a bit too high. Internally he cursed up a blue streak as he tried to figure out the best way to get the both of them to leave without seeming suspicious.

"I-I was just...ah, getting some air before the...the viewing party? You know? The one Kalim was hosting? At Ramshackle?" He jabbed his thumb back the way he came, ignoring the way his hand subtly shook. (The suspiciously gleeful cackle echoing in the back of his mind was not helping.)

Damn it! Out of all of the people who could have showed up why did it have to be the only one in this god-forsaken school who actually had some inkling about the dangers the spiritual world could possess as well as his relation to the seedy underbelly of it. And to make matters worse, why was one of the students with him?!?

"...Yeah? Is that so?" Sam gave his version of a neutral smile, inoffensive and otherwise the perfect fit of dealing with a difficult customer. As magenta eyes slowly roved up and down his form before finally settling on his chest. Brows furrowed imperceptibly as he cocked his head a bit to the side. "Bit far of a walk, innit?"

His heart dropped to his feet. Shit, he knew that look. That was the look he had whenever his attention had been caught by some particularly intriguing curiosity. And the fact that it was now aimed at him? He already knew something was up.

But still, he was in too deep to stop now.

"Mhm, y-yeah! I can't really stop myself when my legs get moving sometimes." He let out chuckle that sounded hollow even to his ears. "Sometimes, you just have to get up and go. Y'know?" His voice faltered, and he swallowed, trying again. "You have to go..."

It was now that the youngest member of their unconventional trio stepped up into the conversation. "...Uh, hey this is kind of a weird question. And I don't wanna be rude and interrupt...whatever it is that you two have got going on. But, do I smell blood right now?"

"!"

Slowly his arms lowered to dangle limply at his sides. "..." He turned away as the last rays of sun slowly dipped under the horizon. "..." Back to the men, the sinking light cast his form in deep shadow.

"...I forgot. You beastfolk have elevated senses of smell don't you."

A cold wind swept through the area, stirring ripples in the iolite depths. The pale man shuddered, his slight frame shaking like a leaf in a winter's storm and he seem to sway a bit as if about to keel over before he caught himself and straightened with an eerie calm.

"...Mr. White?" Jack moved to place a hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Don't touch him!"Jack taken off guard by sudden outburst, jerked his head back to stare at the older man as his hand instinctively clamped down. The body underneath him twitched. With a sharp curse, Sam darted forward as the man turned on them and struck out, nailing the taller boy in the face with a right hook. He yelped and fell back, clutching at his bleeding nose in shock as Sam quickly stepped in to take his spot and a brief struggle ensued.

"Oh seven my nose!" He winced at the pain, almost certain that the offending part was broken. "What is your problem?!" Jack howled, only to receive no response as the two men seemed determined to beat the shit out of one another. White ears pinned back in a snarl. Fine, if that was how they were gonna play it, and joined the fray.

But the older white-haired male fought like a man possessed and refused to give an inch. Tagging the teen with a solid palm strike to the solar plexus, he knocked him away as the other choked and sputtered. He reared back to elbow Sam in the gut but the taller man merely tanked the hit and held on for dear life as they begin to grapple.

It was a fierce fight but the older man was eventually forced to the ground, having been overpowered in his degraded state. But still he continued to thrash and wriggle in their grasp, with a seemingly increasing desperation.

Having no other choice, the two of them pressed their weight onto the prone man. Jack's ears twitched as the other evidentially realized the futility of continued struggle and turned to muttering "Nonono..." With his face pressed into the dirt and splattered with blood and who-knew-what he looked positively unhinged as he stared at the setting sun. "You don't understand."

"Mr. White..." Jack murmured, tail giving a unnerved swish at the usually collected man's behaviour.

"Oh, we understand more than you think buddy." Sam muttered with narrowed eyes as his hand went for the strange green hamsa-type amulet in his apron pocket. "Hold him down for me would ya?"

"O-Oi..." At the other's sharp look he grumbled and did as he was told. Forcing the small man's uninjured arm behind his back with a small grimace.

Grey eyes slipped shut behind cracked lenses as his lips moved in a soft prayer. "Please-" The rest of which was lost to the rush of wind.

"Hm, what was that? A curse, maybe? A request for last rites, perhaps?"

...He t w i t c h e d .

"I said..."

Dark eyes widened a touch too late as he processed the change in the air. "Would you-" He jerked his head to meet the younger boy's confused gaze, mouth poised to warn him but was cut off when the lad was summarily ripped from his perch and tossed aside.

"—just–"

And with a strength that he had no right to possess Sam followed suit, his amulet sent skittering across the grass-

"–let-"

-only to stop at his feet.

He stood a looming shadow over the fallen men. With crimson eyes crescented as he cast a look of utter disdain at the protective amulet. His lips continued peeled back in a snarl.

"-me-"

And as if rising from the grave, his foot lifted up before ruthlessly slamming down as he unleashed a truly unholy sound." GO!!"

And then it was silent.

An uneasy stillness fell over the clearing as the two prone men didn't dare move, the overwhelming pressure emanating from the lone figure before them was not that unlike a predator surveying his catch before moving in for the kill and it made the teenager want to bolt with his tail tucked between his legs to be honest.

If it weren't for the sound of heavy breathing, he would have thought that the man had been turned to stone. Those luminous eyes boring into their souls as their owner stared and stared and stared. Until suddenly, he blinked.

Then blinked again.

And once more, the unearthly red glow flickering before snuffing itself out.

And from there it seemed that the spell broken and the man was finally to take in their stricken state. A look of utter horror crossing his face as he slowly shook his head and took a step back. Then another. And another, faster this time. Eyes haunted, yet unable to leave their bloodied forms.

"I-I'm sorry."

And then he turned tail, bolting for the forest as he disappeared into the thick copse of trees.

(Wholly unaware of the single red notebook that had slipped out of his pocket in the scuffle.)

-x-------X-------x-------X-------x ( * ) x-------X-------x-------X-------x-

Naturally they tried to go after him but between their injuries and the fading light they quickly lost sight him in the underbrush. Reluctantly the two of them stumbled huffing-and-puffing to a halt in a rocky half-clearing. Sam slowly hobbled over to the giant yew sprawling about the copse and leaned against its trunk with a strained grimace.

Long fingers carefully folded around his waist as he took care not to jostle the rib cage any further lest the bruises there turn in to full blown fractures. He watched as Jack slammed his free fist into the tree's bark with a loud curse. "We're just running in circles."

"Yeah? I hadn't noticed." The man drawled.

It was here the teenager's temper finally spilled over, "Y'know, I've been real patient with this whole thing. I kept my mouth shut when a bunch of freaking ghosts burst in the school store and started screeching –and I quote— 'The Great Lord of Darkness has clawed his way back from Death & That Which Lay Beyond the Stars to enact his revenge upon us all. It's over! The end is nigh!'" His mimicry of said spirits was somewhat tempered by the broken nose but otherwise spot on, Sam thought.

"I was just trying to get some snacks man. Not get my freaking face punched in by the local staff cryptid who suddenly decided to completely flip their lid. That bastard White really knows how to throw hands by the way." He threw a hand up in exasperation.

"But you know a guy can only only take so much. And so I must ask: what in the actual fuck-" He gestured pointedly back at the way they came, ears pinned against his head. "-was that? And why are we following after it?"

"...Yes, I too would like to know the reasoning."

Jack let out a startled yelp as both their heads jerked up to stare over as the newest arrival —Malleus Draconia, Housewarden of Diasomnia himself– seemingly appeared from the aether before them.

Disconcerted, Jack's ear twitched. "...Dude. Where did you even come from...?" While his nose might not have been currently in service his ears still worked so why in the world didn't he hear him creeping up on them? Did he just spawn in the second he mentioned Mr. White? Weird.

Apparently unphased (or perhaps used to such reactions), the fae seemed to take his question in stride and answered earnestly. "There was a social gathering dedicated to tonight's eclipse occurring nearby so I sought to occupy the intermedium with a nice walk through the nearby ruins with my compatriots as to not inconvenience them with an early arrival. However, as we set out one of my companions seemed to be stricken by a sleeping fit so the other opted to wait it out with him nearby and as such told me it was alright to go ahead and they would catch up in a bit."

"...Right."

"Now, I heard you mention the host of this affair, and quite loudly if I might add. May I perhaps inquire as to why you were in pursuit of this individual?"

Was it just him or did those eyes seem to gleam dangerously as the fae coolly took in their states of disarray only to quietly narrow at the half-dried spattering of bloodstains present on their forms. Jack's hackles raised as a chill ran down his spine and suddenly he felt as though if either of them said the wrong thing then it could turn out very badly, for them that was.

It seemed that the shopkeeper picked up on this as well if his nervous grimace were any indication. He glanced away, appearing as if to be weighing the situation's pros versus cons of the before appearing to have come to a decision.

"...Yeah, about that. Listen, there's no good way to put this but-" With a grim look he turned to face the others and made as if to push his hat back only to remember the piece of fabric had been lost earlier in the scuffle and instead settled for running a hand through his hair. "- that thing back there? It ain't your little friend anymore."

Malleus seemed to take that in for a moment, toxic green eyes unblinking. Then he subtly tilted his head. "Explain."

...Why did it sound like a threat?

"Alright, alright! You really know how to twist a guy's ear don't'cha? Yeesh..." The shopkeep waved them back down before giving a suspicious glance around; he seemed, for lack of a better word, agitated. "Fine, I'll spill. But not out here." Raising a hand to quickly stave off the protests he elaborated, "More often than not, in Old Woods like these the trees aren't the only things listening."

He turned to Malleus, "That big shindig of yours, it's over at Ramshackle right? That's good. I know that paranoid old geezer has set up who knows how many wards and booby traps around the joint so it should be safe enough there." Plus he didn't want to repeat any of this more than once.

Seeing no good reason to reject this reasonable offer (nor the implied opportunity to interrogate find out if that blood on wolf beastman shirt was just his own or not. For his sake it better be...) the fae begrudgingly agreed. He turned away, setting off through the thicket as the shopkeeper flanked him.

After a beat the exasperated beastman let out a quiet huffing-grumble and stalked behind, his hand tightening around the hardcover notebook clutched within.

-x-------X-------x-------X-------x ( * ) x-------X-------x-------X-------x-

Uneven footfalls thudded against the rough undergrowth as he ran. His thin frame raced through the darkening forest as if the devil himself was on his heels, which considering the circumstances was not that far off. He moved until his jumps began to turn sloppy, a small blackthorn thicket thwacked against his aching arms when he stopped being able to dodge properly, and beads of sweat mixed with dirt dripped down into his eyes only to to become yet another hindrance that eventually sent him and his glasses sprawling out across the pine needle and rock-encrusted soil.

And yet throughout it all, that malevolent laughter accompanied him as the foreign void behind his eyes encroached.

It was here, in this desolate stretch of forest worlds upon worlds away from all that he ever knew, the pale-haired man laid. Hopelessly lost and alone, save for the monster poised in wait under his skin, eager to take his body and soul for a nightmarish spin.

And it was here that the twenty-seven-year-old finally let himself shatter.

With crimson eyes he cried tears that refused to fall with the sound of mocking reassurances of a monster once dead as a symphony in the night.

And as the light of red moon rose history repeated itself.

#DS7 Writes Stuff #TWST Fanfic #TWST OC #TWST Fanart #TWST Yuusona #Along with the ensemble cast (more or less)#Oh just for the sake of spoilers though this is going to be read at your own risk but I'd say it'd roughly have a rating of T for Teen.#The Picrews are simply for image references and because I can't draw on my potato of a computer for shit.#This was also so long I had to break it into parts. Which...wasn't the 'brief halloweeny oneshot' that I had originally envisioned lol.#I also may have been reading like...a shit ton of cultivation novels and really just wanted a exorcist character to mess around with.#Also the music in Castlevania fucking slaps so I have to pay homage to it.#Speaking of music: In the last scene I recommend listening to a rendition of The Nowhere King” from the Centaurworld OST :)#Just for a little bit of extra info: Yukishima's maternal ancestor is the Protag from Ayakashi Romance Reborn who opted for a harem route.#White will insist that all of his exorcist bullshit is 'not magic' and he will die on this hill.#And like I mean #he's right but only by a technicality because he's using magically charged objects to preform his various shenanigans.#Also because the “magic” that those from his world can employ operates by a slightly different ruleset that can only be described as:#Trying to pilot a remote-control ship with your feet to the bottom of the Marianas Trench while some sort of Hell Piranha tries to eat you #and if you're unlucky and use too much oxygen the ship will explode and then everyone in it will become eldritch man eating piranha too.#So while he can't use twst's weird fae magic the guys would also have difficulty with his “magic” and likely overclock any “spell” of his.#And this little bit of information has steadily evolved into the massive misunderstanding that he can't use “magic” at all which...#considering how some of the students reacted to his presence at first he might not have stood to not correct it.

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peachesofteal · 11 months ago

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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader

"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."

Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.

This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.

"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.

"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"

"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"

"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?

"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.

"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."

"You don't understand." You shake your head.

"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.

"Okay."

Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.

"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."

"But he wasn't."

"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."

"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.

"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.

"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."

"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.

"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.

"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.

"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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jupiterpilgrim · 20 hours ago

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The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed

Seulgi x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K

The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.

"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."

You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."

"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."

"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.

Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.

"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"

Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."

The blood drains from your face as realization hits.

Fuck.

Those folders.

The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...

"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.

"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."

"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"

"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."

Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.

"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."

"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"

"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"

Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.

"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."

Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?

"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."

You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."

"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."

Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.

"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"

Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.

"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."

Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."

Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."

The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."

"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"

You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.

"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."

That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.

You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.

"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."

You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.

Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.

"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.

Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."

You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.

"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.

"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."

You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."

You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.

"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."

You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.

Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."

You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."

"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."

You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.

"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."

"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."

But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."

You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.

"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."

You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.

"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."

"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."

You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.

"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."

Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.

"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."

You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."

"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."

You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.

"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."

She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.

"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."

You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."

Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.

Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.

After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."

She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."

Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."

You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.

"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.

"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."

You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.

"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."

You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.

"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."

Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.

"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.

"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."

You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."

"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."

You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.

Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."

You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.

"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.

"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"

"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."

The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.

You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."

You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.

"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."

She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.

"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."

"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"

Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"

You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."

"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."

"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"

"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."

Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.

"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."

"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.

"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.

"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."

Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."

You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.

"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."

"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.

"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"

"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."

Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."

"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."

The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.

"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."

"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."

You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.

"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."

"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."

A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.

"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."

You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.

"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.

"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."

"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”

Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”

“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”

She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”

“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”

“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”

“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”

You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?

The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...

The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.

"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."

She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"

"Want to come find out for yourself?"

"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."

You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."

Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.

"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.

You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.

"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.

Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.

"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"

"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."

You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.

"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."

You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.

"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.

"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”

She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.

You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.

"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.

You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.

"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.

You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.

Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.

You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.

"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.

You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.

"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”

She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.

You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.

"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.

"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."

Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.

She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.

You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.

"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."

You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.

"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.

You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.

"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."

She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.

"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.

When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.

"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."

Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.

You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."

"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"

You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."

Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.

"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"

You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.

The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.

"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"

Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”

You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."

Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."

Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.

"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."

She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."

You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."

"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.

"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.

"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"

You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.

When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.

She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.

"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."

She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.

"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."

"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."

The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.

"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."

You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.

"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."

"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.

—

After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.

"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.

She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."

"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."

"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."

Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.

Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"

You grin, pushing your plate aside.

"Who’s pretending?”

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inkskinned · 10 months ago

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the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

#spilled ink #ty nat #ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')

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hederasgarden · 3 months ago

Text

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has. Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen.

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively.

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused.

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies.

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott.

"Owens," he bites out.

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile.

"Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time.

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages.

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him.

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside.

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix.

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.”

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.”

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly.

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone.

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink.

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin.

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan.

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.”

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again?

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room.

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest.

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together.

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours.

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college.

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

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#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens #twisters #scott miller x reader #scott miller x you #scott twisters

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torasplanet · 10 months ago

Text

❝𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎.ᐟ❞

K. BAKUGOU, S. TODOROKI, & I. MIDORIYA + SHY!GN. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; the main three when their shy/anxious s/o finally says 'i love you'<3

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, hcs + scenarios, new relationships, literally that's it and skin color not mentioned

IZUKU MIDORIYA

izu just can't with this.

he understands how you're shy and all of that so it might take you some time to get comfortable saying those things

hell he even was scared to say it too but this long??? really?

izu has begun to think that you'd never say it at this rate...

he got so scared that you didn't love him at all and was just too scared to tell him the truth because you didn't wanna hurt his feelings!

or maybe he's just overthinking again...

that doesn't matter because izu never tells you his concerns. he wants you to take your time

he doesn't wanna rush you and make it forced!

that being said...when you finally do say it on your own, he thinks he just might lose his mind.

izuku's anxious sitting at his desk with you right beside him almost breaking the pencil in half and it was a mechanical pencil. he was holding back because he didn't want to frighten you but he just couldn't sit here while you're looking so cute.

he wanted to say he loved how cute you looked so bad but he was worried that maybe it'd make you uncomfortable since you weren't saying i love you to him yet.

that had been getting to him a lot lately and he didn't know how to handle it without talking to you. he knew how you were and didn't want to make it worse. see izuku himself was a fairly shy person, well not so much as he was in middle school but he understood you and your feelings but not enough for it to not bother him!

"ohhh! i get it now!" you exclaimed leaning back in your chair. your sudden loud speech snapped izuku out of his thoughts and he smiled at you sweetly with a hum escaping him.

you gave him a grin "thanks izu! i love you, i don't know what i'd do without you." you spoke without thinking and immediately closed your eyes out of embarrassment at what he'd say in response. you didn't think about what you were saying, you just said the first thing that came to mind...when you heard a loud bang, you opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

izu's face was planted on the desk and he was letting out a hum that didn't seem positive or anything; more like he was a kettle on the stove. "oh uhm...are you okay?" you hesitantly asked going to reach for him but he snapped up before you could touch him. izuku's face was bright red and it looked like he was burning up "i love you too!" he shouted with a smile on his face clearly happy that you finally said that. you were a bit weirded out but at least he was happy.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

oh please don't even get me started on katsuki...

like izu, he was really upset about you not saying you love him especially when he said it to you first and you didn't say it back

but unlike izuku, he could give less than a fuck about not wanting to talk to you about it

the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that denki told him that he'd probably hurt your feelings like that and that was the last thing he wanted to do so for once, he shut up

but his aggression was fairly obvious because every time he said he loved you with that frown on his face, it'd get deeper when you didn't say it back and just smiled at him

katsuki felt like he'd actually blow up a building if you took longer to say it.

"what the hell are you doing up there!?" katsuki shouted from down below in the training area while you stood on one of the buildings looking for denki who was supposed to be your other partner.

you looked down at the masked boy very cautiously i might add and just nervously gave him an 'uh' showing you didn't know. katsuki grunted in frustration as he looked around to see if there was any one from the other team around to make sure that you guys didn't lose. he was already beginning to sweat just from pure anger.

when the class was splitting up to go to the locker rooms for costume changes, katsuki had told you he loved you and that he'd see you on the grounds but...you didn't say it back. you just laughed a bit showing that you were growing embarrassed and gave him a very small peck on his cheek.

see katsuki did appreciate that but he wanted an 'i love you' back not a kiss especially not a little baby kiss to the cheek that one of his cousins would give him but again, he stayed silent and just grumbled under his breath in the lockerroom. he was already pissed off from that but now denki was nowhere to be found? that dumb fucker was probably lost.

little did the both of you know, he was behind you planning on surprising you which was not the best idea considering you were almost dangling over the edge of a building right now. "boo!" denki shouted in your ear making you jump and lose your footing. you slipped and fell off the edge of the building with a yelp drawing your boyfriend's attention.

he was quick to blast up into the air and catch you in his arms before you even slightly neared the ground "oh my god! i love you so much 'suki!" you said in desperation as you wrapped your arms around him and clutched onto him in fear that you'd fall. katsuki would never drop you but he almost did when he heard you finally say it back to him.

"ha! i thought you'd never say it!" katsuki shouted with a grin on his face as he landed on the ground, your face still stuffed in his shoulder. you hadn't even realized what you said until he just pointed it out "oh..." you muttered feeling embarrassment creep up on you as your boyfriend put you on the ground. you put your palms to your face to cover you hot face but the blonde grabbed your hands and forcefully pulled them away from your face "stop that shit! if you think i don't love you back, i do." katsuki said muttering the last part a little lower because denki was shouting apologies from the top of the building and could probably hear a few things.

katsuki had a bit to learn about embarrassment when saying that kind of stuff too.

SHOTO TODOROKI

pls dont ever talk to him about this

he'll actually just sit there silent probably dying inside

shoto has had his fair share of not getting told i love you or getting a sort of warped kind of love so you not saying i love you isn't something relatively new to him

but he still hates it.

he can't even begin to explain the ache in his chest when ou don't say it back to him, not like he'd ever explain it to anyone

unlike both of the other boys, he's extremely patient and no matter how he feels, he won't throw small tantrums over you not saying it and will just wait

but as he waited, he got more needy for hearing those three words

"sho..." you whined dragging out the o in your boyfriend's name while you tried to get up from under the many blankets shoto had you bundled under. he had the whole work for you.

thermometer on the bedside desk and cold medicine right next to it while you continuously sneezed and coughed in bed. you had gotten sick recently and your darling two-toned-haired boyfriend had been there for every step! making you food, running your baths, just being a complete sweetheart.

shoto, by default, was a sweet boyfriend but he had been a little extra kind lately in hopes that you'd tell him that you loved him for all of his efforts of going out of his way for you. he didn't know what was going on in your brain but he clearly knew you well because that was what you were planning to do.

telling the boy that you loved him would be the perfect way to express your gratitude to him for all he's done throughout your sickness that was caused by your stupidity of going to the market in the cold night after getting out of the shower "coming, my love." shoto said waddling into the room with a bowl of steaming ramen on the small wooden table he had in his hands to make it easier for you to eat in bed. he was really playing the house husband role.

"here, the broth will make you feel better. i promise." the boy said setting the table on the bed just above your legs while kneeling to the ground, you smiled at the todoroki boy deciding that this was the perfect time to tell him that you loved him.

with a blow toward the scalding bowl, you uttered the words quietly "i love you sho." you grew shy after saying that not knowing how he'd respond and his silence ate you alive. you grabbed your chopsticks as you kept your head down to avoid eye contact "sorry, just ignore it–" "no." he interrupted your excuse almost making you knock the bowl over with now fast your body turned to look at him again.

sho's cheeks were flushed a light pink "i love you too. just didn't expect you to say that." he said chuckling lightly with a smile on his face. it might've been true that he wished for you to say it now but it still surprised him.

in a good way though... "can i have a kiss?" you asked smiling back at your boyfriend who still gave you a close-eyed grin, sho stood to his feet "no. you will get me sick." he replied in a monotone before beginning to walk away muttering how he was going to get you something to drink.

you whined loudly throwing your head back. "sho....!"

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #bnha fluff #◛⑅·˚♡sho-sho!!#◛⑅·˚izu~#◛⑅·˚katsuki>3<

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kinardgo · 4 months ago

Note

I saw a post a while ago about Tommy and Buck running into Buck's exes, but I'd be interested in them running into Tommy's exes (boyfriend and/or girlfriends)

i spent such a long time fleshing out an OC for this tiny little oneshot but i could not get this out of my head gfhdhsjjdf.

EDIT: okay this isn't tiny and maybe i got over excited.

bucktommy / rated t / prompt requests still open

"Tommy?"

Chim stops mid-sentence, hands still up in a gesture, and his mouth is a little open as he looks over Buck's shoulder, behind him. Hen and Eddie seem similarly afflicted. Confused, Buck turns around, and-

Woah.

Buck's not unfamiliar with attractive people - he works in an environment with a lot of hot, athletic people, who do insane, heroic things, and since discovering that he's playing equal time for both teams, the pool of people that are nice to look at has grown considerably. That's a given. But... woah.

Green. Very green eyes.

"Dan! Oh, shit, how long has it been?" Tommy grins, getting up quickly enough that his chair scrapes against the concrete.

Hen and Chimney are doing their freaky psychic parademic mind melding communication thing, which mostly involves a lot of eyebrow movement and head tilting, and Eddie is glancing from Dan to Buck like he's nervous. This was supposed to be a chill little brunch, a catch up between friends. It's nice, being able to bring his partner to brunch like this, the same way Hen brings Karen and Chim brings Maddie. He never brought Ali, or Taylor, or any of his girlfriends. For reasons he could never quite pinpoint, he never wanted to let his worlds collide like that.

But Tommy is already part of his world. He's got inside jokes with Chim and Hen that Buck still doesn't quite get. He brings his own stories about the job, and he can laugh at everyone elses without getting maudlin and worried the way any of Buck's exes would. Tommy is as much a part of Buck's world as Buck is of his.

Except, Tommy's world apparantly has other things in it. Like Dan. Dan with the very green eyes, and the black hair swept carelessly back off his face like he thinks he's a 90's movie star, a little grey peppered at his temples and a t-shirt that has to be at least two sizes too small. Dan with his arm around Tommy's shoulder, and a 1000 watt smile dangerously close to Tommy's mouth, like he's not 100% committed to pulling out of this extremely long hug.

"What are you doing in California? You miss the sunshine?" Tommy asks, his hand still very noticably on Dan's hip.

"Don't even say that, those Oregon winters are no joke," he huffs, "Nah, I'm down for my sister's wedding."

"Emily's getting married? What the hell, she was barely out of college last time I checked."

"Yeah, Tommy, that was six years ago," he laughs, "All grown up now, marrying some IT geek from San Diego. Don't know what he did to deserve her, but my balls have been well and truly threatened if I give him anymore shit."

They chat for another few minutes, completely oblivious to the audience they have, oblivious to the way that Buck's hands are clenching into fists under the table. Tommy's usually so poised, straight-backed, almost stoic. Even his humour is deadpan, but Buck relishes the moments where he can tease easy smiles and full body laughs and dorky jokes out of him. Dan and his pretty eyes seem to have that down pat, too.

"Uh, I feel like I've crashed a party here, Tom."

Tommy blinks, looking back over at their table.

"Shit, sorry," he says, "I should have said. These are the good folks of the 118 firehouse. You probably know Hen and Howie by reputation, and this is Karen and Maddie," Tommy indicates each of them in turn, and they give a wave, "That's Eddie, and this is my boyfriend, Evan."

He says is so casually, like it costs him nothing, and it drags a smile out him the way it always does. Boyfriend. Buck stands, offering a hand. There are still half-cresent marks on his palm from where he'd dug his nails in.

"Good to meet you, man."

"You too, Evan."

"Buck," he says reflexively, "People call me Buck."

"Sure," he says easily.

Tommy is staring at him, face unreadable, but he smiles anyway, polite, almost professional.

"This is Dan Archer, and he used to be the best damn EMT in California," he says, clapping him on the shoulder, "until he deserted us for the PFR."

"Portland, huh? That's a good department to work for, from what I hear," Hen grins, "You guys were trialling those new electric ambulances in 2019, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Dan laughs, "All green, baby. Not that it matters when you're pulling another hiker out the Cascades in mid-December, but for some reason no one wanted to put the funding into my caterpillar-tread gurneys idea."

Chim snorts, "Shit, that's a good one. We should start lobbying for that, Hen."

"Ain't that the truth," she mutters.

"I don't have that problem," Tommy says smugly. Dan punches him in the arm, "You wanna stick around? This place some amazing bruschetta."

The collective inhale the table takes is probably loud enough to hear across the street. Eddie puts his coffee down like he's worried he's going to have to do something that involves having both of his hands free, like restrain Buck.

"Nah, I'm just doing a coffee run, then I've got to get back to the pre-festivities festivities," Dan shrugs, apparantly oblivious, "And maybe buy a shotgun to clean somewhere in view of Samuel."

Tommy laughs, "Give 'em hell, Archer. And don't be a stranger."

"You neither, Kinard," he grins, "I'll take you up on that bruschetta before I head back North."

"You better."

Tommy sits back down, and puts a hand on Buck's thigh. Nothing salacious or suggestive, just the weight of his palm and the heat of his skin. Familiar. The group lapses back into the same kind of easy chatter that they had before. Maddie and Chim talking about something cute Jee had done last week. Hen recounts in detail the call out they got that ended with having to deep bleach the inside of the ambulance. Buck takes a hold of Tommy's wrist, feels his pulse against his fingers, a steady, paitent beat.

Tommy's mouth paints lines of heat against Buck's shoulders. He's on his stomach in Tommy's bed - their bed, really, with how often Buck is here these days - propped up on his elbows. There's a book open on the pillow in front of him, something he found on Tommy's bookshelf about the history of the American rail network. It's been open on the same page for the last ten minutes, Buck's eyes somewhere in the middle distance.

There's temptation here, in the form of Tommy's half naked body pressed up alongside his, the hand on his lower back, his mouth. But Buck's mind is going a mile a minute.

"Baby," Tommy murmers, lips pressed to the nape of his neck.

"How do you know him?"

Tommy stills, just a moment where he freezes, before he exhales.

"I don't know if I like you thinking about other men while I'm trying to seduce you."

"Well, he is a very handsome man," Buck mutters, before he can help himself.

Tommy snorts, "Seriously?"

"It's ridiculous," he grumbles, "He's a paramedic, not a model. What's he even-"

Tommy muffles his laughter into Buck's shoulder, his body shaking with it. It should irritate him, it should make him feel belittled and mocked, but the way Tommy curls over Buck's naked back, smudging kisses into his hair and muttering his name softens the blow.

"I'm being an idiot, aren't I?" he says flatly, and it just makes Tommy laugh harder.

"No, Evan, you're being jealous, and possessive, and very sweet," he says, indulgent. Tommy is always indulgent with him, and Buck aches with how much he doesn't deserve it, "I know there's no way for me to say this without it sounding sarcastic, but I really do think that you glaring daggers at my ex like you're thinking about burying him under a carpark is extremely attractive."

Buck huffs, "So, he is your ex."

"Yes, he's my ex," he says, trailing a finger down the dip of Buck's spine, "We dated for nearly a year, the first year I moved to Harbour. He was my first serious relationship after I came out."

Buck doesn't really know what to say to that. Tommy represents a whole lot of firsts to Buck. First kisses, first touches, first fucks. Not first ever, obviously, but a kind of first all their own. And maybe Buck is always going to be a too much, too fast kinda guy, but he can't imagine getting over that, getting over him. Not even after five, six years.

"It ended amiciably. He got the job offer from Portland. Captaincy. Dan's job is important to him, too important to pass it up. I understood that."

"Do you miss him?"

Tommy kisses his shoulder, "All the time. He's been a good friend to me over the years."

"Do you see him very often?"

"Handful of times, since he moved," Tommy smiles, curling his fingers into the hair at the back of Buck's neck, "Came down for Harris' retirement. Couple years ago, we met up while he visiting family. I went up to Portland last year, too."

"Oh?" Buck says, feigning indifference and probably missing it by a mile, "How was it?"

"It was great. Awesome city. Great hiking in the area, and the ceremony was beautiful."

"What ceremony?" Buck asks, jerking up.

"You would have cried," Tommy continues like he didn't even hear him, like he didn't almost just headbutted in Buck's eagerness tosit upright, "I bet you always cry at weddings, but you definitely would have cried at this one. I bawled like a baby."

Buck shoves at Tommy's chest playfully, and he bounces when his back hits the mattress, laughing again.

"What wedding?"

"Dan's wedding," Tommy grins, "to his husband, Jake. Who he loves very very much."

He groans, shoving his head into the pillow, but Tommy doesn'tlet him mope about it for very long. A strong pair of hands roll him flat onto his back, and Tommy wastes absolutely no time in covering his body with his own, pushing between his legs and kissing him halfway to stupid. Which doesn't bode well for Buck, who's pretty sure he was more than halfway there already.

"You're ridiculous," Tommy says fondly, pressing a kiss to Buck's cheek.

"I know," he sighs, "I'm sorry."

Tommy kisses him again, before propping himself upon his elbows, "We're gonna talk about this properly tomorrow, about you being this worried about me... leaving? Or being interested in other people? Whatever it is, okay? We're gonna talk about it, because I don't actually want you to be upset, Evan," he says softly, "but you don't need to apologise for being jealous. It's just an emotion."

"Not the best emotion on me, though," Buck sighs, "It's not even rational."

"Maybe," Tommy shrugs, "but I wasn't lying when I said I like it on you sometimes. I don't regret my relationship with Dan, so what's rational about me liking how much you wish you were the only one who has ever touched me?"

Tommy's got a talent for taking Buck's most ridiculous thoughts, his worst traits, the ugliest sides of him, and rearranging all the pieces so that they actually make sense. He's so steadying, like a hand on his back while he feels like he's constantly walking on a tightrope. All of it is like water off a duck's back to Tommy, even when it feels like Buck's about to drown in it.

"God, please just kiss me," Buck whispers, half because he wants to, he always wants to, and half because it minimises the risk of saying anything else stupid, like 'I hate your gorgeous hero of an ex just because he got to kiss you before I did', or 'I like myself better when I'm with you than I ever had before', or 'I love you', or 'please don't talk about weddings around me because I'm terrified of the images in my head right now and how good you look in a suit'.

"Yeah?" Tommy breathes, his mouth hovering just over Buck's, "You gonna be thinking about him again?"

"Thinking about who?" Buck mutters back, just to be a brat.

Tommy laughs, a gentle, soft little thing that's so, so fond, but he kisses him anyway.

#bucktommy #tevan #911 #911 fic #**writing #bucktommy tag #thank you for the prompt!!!! <333 #this really got away from me but i have Feelings about them

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago

Text

Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you.

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants…

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6.

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you.

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain…

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen.

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you.

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it.

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call.

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant.

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen… “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

#ikea writes 💚#captain john price #john price x reader #price x you #husband john price #cod fic #cod modern warfare #captain price #task force 141 #masterlist #cod smut

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