#instead of the other walking distance one

[amphitriteswife]

Next level

Tagging: @yue-yolk

Warnings: Nsfw

Note: shit post

Pairing: Jaegyeon na x reader

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Jaegyeon gripped his steering wheel tightly. It was late in the night, yet no sign of the city dying down. That’s Incheon for you, always busy and full in swing. He drove along side the busy streets, flashy bright lights along the roads and the sight of the night clubs coming out from their hiding spit emerged in his vision. He sighs. He hated you, has he ever told you that? You’re so irresponsible. You always act to high and mighty around the other kings. You fight so well and conquer every city you can. You can have it all yet you chose not to just because it takes too much work? And what do you do instead? Party. You party and drink, you meet some guy and flirt, or not. Jaegyeon parked his car far away from the busy red light streets. He doesn’t want anything to happen to Initial N after all. His hand twirling the keys around his fingers while he walked up the street. He doesn’t even know these clubs. They’re probably all boring anyway. Why do you go to these places? You can do so much better. He let out another sigh before walking down the stairs to the club. The hostess by the stand already pointing to your booth. His steps feel heavy. The dim light and loud atmosphere is making him a little irritated. He could see your silhouette from the distance. Lace dress, high heels, make up, loose hair. You’re always so different than when you fight. You’re cold, mean, strong and business like. But now, seeing you in a booth with other girls and boys, laughing while you drink some cheap alcohol one of those randoms bought you, the way you laugh at them. It seems so strange. Yet it’s not new to him no matter how many times he has seen it before. It’s always the same old song with you.

He looks at you, then your table, then the others at the table and back at you. You tell them you have to go and the people in your booth all whine, telling you you can stay a little longer, have another drink, it’s all fun. You tell them no in a half joking voice and grab Jeagyeon by the arm. You cling to his side and he guides you to his car. He talks to you once again. His hands on your frame to keep you from stumbling, you flirt with him, forgetting that the two of you hate each other’s guts. You say you’re cold and lean into his body, your hands brushing over his chest and shoulders. Your sweet voice fills his ears telling him everything he wants to hear from you. You tell him a bunch of lies. Well, maybe half lies. He tries to get you to sit in the car and buckled your seatbelt then walks to the driver’s seat, after Jaegyeon takes his own seat he already noticed that yours is off again, he watched you comes closer to him and sit in his lap. He sighs for the 3rd time that day. He holds you by the hips again and tells you no. You lean into his face and kiss him, he lets you kiss him. He lets you suck and lick his lips. He lets you open up his mouth to let your tongue slide in. He allows it and kissed you back, he knows he shouldn’t, but he’s still doing it. You grab his shirt and pull it off his body, he breaks the kiss and lets you sit in his lap while he drives you to the nearest yet best hotel he knows. He once again books the same room, same floor, same number, same service he always gets when he’s with you. He guides you to the room, you pull him into the bed, he obligates and pulls up your dress. You undo his pants and let it fall to the ground, he gets on top of you and you giggle. It’s always the same. The same thing you have been doing for some years. He kissed you once again. You kiss him back. The bed creeks. The voices are loud. The time is forgotten, the hate is not there. His breath is ragged. Your hair is disheveled. It’s not love making. It’s far from it. It’s just something the both of you do. You’re not lovers. Not even friends. Just some fuck buddy. You call, he picks up, you kiss, he kisses back. You tell him to go faster, he picks up his pace. He doesn’t remember how many times he did it with you, nor the positions. All he remembers is him fucking you and you fucking him. He remembers the way you kiss him and the way you kiss back, the taste of your spit intertwining with his. Him pressing you against the mattress, he puts up your legs and pounds into you for the millionth time while he moans out your name. He fucks you like you’re his girlfriend, but that’s not what you are. And you kiss him like he’s you’re boyfriend, which isn’t what he is.

Jaegyeon lost his interest in other women a long time ago, but he doesn’t know if the same goes for you. It’s all just raw, passionate and quick sex. It’s not boring, it’s fun. It’s amazing. He loves it. But that’s because it’s with you. Even now when he’s laying beneath you, his hands behind his head while you sit on top of him, your back against his legs and touching his body. Your hands touching his abs and then his chest. He still feels the same way as 4 years ago.

‘Don’t you ever want to be more than just this?’

Is what he asks. You laugh and don’t really give an answer, the two of you fall asleep, then you wake up, then you kiss once again. Then it’s turns into something more before he checks out the hotel and drives you home. The next time he meets you is with the other kings and it’s all back to normal. No word of it or what happened. Back to two people who can’t stand each other and back to two people who stil haven’t confessed only to be stuck in one big cycle.

[drewdoa]

─────────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─────────

── .✦ # 𝒚𝒐𝒖 • part 1 ; viktor

── .✦ a/n: hey!! so i decided to mix two of my favorite shows together!!! it’s definitely different from what i would usually write but i think it’s such a cool mix and the thought of viktor being obsessive is like rotting in my brain..i hope you enjoy this and tell me if i should make more!!

── .✦ extra info: no gender mention, obsessive behavior, harmless stalking, might be a bit inaccurate to their canon characters

{ inspiration taken from the show “you” on netflix ! }

viktor has always been the type to stay kept to himself. he doesn’t bother anyone or talk to many people besides jayce and you. rotting away in his lab at almost every opportunity presented.

..almost. he’s got a small hobby he tends to every so often, he doesn’t like to talk about it much since it’s a way for him to “de stress”. you’ve noticed lately he carries a what looks like a sketchbook that’s filled to the pages ends with things he’s been doing. pictures, and stickers and pen scribbled all inside, what else could he be doing? scrapbooking you thought!

one lazy morning though, around the crack of dawn basically, viktor was caught up in that book. going through page after page, admiring his past works. they all look similar. about the same..person?

you watch him carefully from a distance, in the hallway where his lab leads. what is so important about that book? why can’t jayce know about it? why can’t i know about it? are you hiding something crazy from me? do you feel like id judge you? all of these things race through your mind, though you reassure yourself with the fact it could just be something personal and you must respect that.

what are you so infatuated with. finally it’s about time you try and mention it, to test the waters if you will.

⌗˳⳿⤏ “viktor?” your mouth spits out, a bit of a distance between you two.

he’s caught just a bit off guard by your voice, he then relaxes just enough to give you a proper response.

“yes?” his body then turns to you, his chair fitting his body perfectly as he comfortably leans his arm on the armrest.

“i just wanted to check on you since you’ve been here for..a little while again” you take a pause before glancing at his prized possession before back at his face.

“i’ve been caught up with studies and working, im sorry i didn’t warn you beforehand. but you should be here too you know.”

“i’ve noticed you’re a fan of journalism too hm? a little expected though” you say as you step a little closer to him.

“…it’s been something i do on the side, i didn’t think you knew about journaling. you do most of that with jayce and his phone with a drink in your hand”

you freeze at his slick ass comment. as much as you wanna flick him in the forehead for it, you can’t, cause he’s right. you and jayce have been drinking quite a lot lately instead of focusing on the projects in which viktor has done most of your work.

“if i had the right to beat your ass i would’ve.” you reply while folding your arms. you take another glance at viktor’s book and there’s a familiar face in there. it looks hand drawn, a little accurate to..

“if you don’t mind, i’ve got work to finish, some that you should be helping with but there’s no point now..come back later. and bring my “partner”, i’ve got a lot of work for him.” his tall lanky figure rises from the chair as he grabs his cane, walking to the doorway and taking you with him.

“maybe one night i could show you what ive been doing..i think you’d enjoy the cage.”

✮⋆˙ hello!! i hope you liked this post :)) i was planning on making this like my own little series!! do let me know if you’d like a second part or any other requests (my asks are open <3) :D -drew

[twoplayergaymers]

BMF- H.Sero

Sero’s a flirt, but he might just win you over

Notes: Barely proofread, Latino Sero, college au, quirkless au, drinking&underage drinking, weed, suggestive, sfw but implied smut

You’d heard the rumors about Hanta Sero— hottest guy on campus, charming, flirtatious, and a certified fuckboy. Sure, you knew exactly who he was. He was friends with Denki, your best friend’s boyfriend, and yeah, he was undeniably hot. But you’d never admit that. Lucky for you, he’s always kept his distance—until now.

Denki’s 21st birthday. You’d graciously accepted the invitation, finding it a great opportunity to spend time with your best friend, Kyoka and her boyfriend whom you actually adore. House parties weren’t necessarily your thing, but a drink or two in you were always tipsy enough to socialize with strangers.

You’d shown up early, gift bag in hand along with a bottle of some cheap liquor you’d found in the bottom of your closet, shit, it was unopened and one thing your mama always told you was never to show up somewhere empty handed. If no one drank it it’d live in the bottom of your closet again until the next pregame.

“Y/n! You’re early!” Denki called from the kitchen, you having let yourself in to the small off campus home he shared with your best friend. “I come bearing gifts!” You say with a smile, brandishing the cheap vodka and gift bag in each hand. Denki chuckles and gestures to a table with a brightly colored cloth, you set both things down and move to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “Happy birthday denks” you say with a wide grin. “Came early, figured you two’d need help setting up?” He nodded with a laugh. “This is why we keep you around,” he joked, earning a snicker and roll of the eyes from you.

“I’ve got hands, where ya need me?” you ask, wiggling your fingers in mock enthusiasm. “Wanna blow up balloons? Helium tanks in the back. I think it’s just that and hanging up the other decorations. Kyo’s picking up the food, Eijirous bringing ice” you nod, heading to their back patio to grab the helium tank.

Fifteen minutes of struggling with the helium tank, fighting to tie the damn knots, and there were balloons scattered all over the ceiling. You huff to yourself, starting to gather them into neat bundles and tie them to the balloon weights, scattering the clusters around the house. By the time you’re taping the last of the decorations on the wall, Kyoka and Eijirou are walking in with plenty of food, their hands full of aluminum trays

You quickly drop what you’re doing and rush to help. “Do you need—”

Before you can finish, Kyoka cuts you off. “’S okay, Y/N.” She nods toward the door, and that’s when you spot him.

Hanta’s in the doorway, carrying what you assume to be the last of the food. Your eyes meet his—those round, brown eyes—and you freeze.

You try to look away, but it’s like your feet are stuck to the floor, caught somewhere between surprise and… something else. His lips curl into that signature smirk of his, the one you’ve seen from across the room at parties but never up close.

You quickly break the eye contact, your hands again fumbling with the last of the decorations, standing on your toes to tape the corner of the banner.

“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice smooth, teasing, like he knows exactly what effect he has on you.

You snap out of your daze and clear your throat, trying to mask the unexpected flutter in your chest. “I got it,” you say, forcing a casual tone, even though your heart’s racing a little faster than you’d like.

Hanta doesn’t budge. “Sure about that?” he presses, stepping closer. Before you can protest again, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. Heat rushes to your face—and somewhere else—and you curse yourself for it.

You press the corner of the banner down as quickly as you can, silently willing him to set you back on solid ground and walk away. You’re not doing this. You’re not playing his game.

But he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he lingers just long enough for you to feel the press of his hands against your waist, his breath warm against your ear as he says, “There. All set.”

Your feet hit the floor, but the heat in your face doesn’t fade. You turn sharply, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body reacted to him, but he’s still there, that smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, like he’s done you some grand favor, and before you can snap back, he’s walking away, casually joining Denki in the kitchen.

You feel your jaw tighten and your fists clench lightly. You’re not doing this, you remind yourself, glancing toward him out of the corner of your eye. He’s laughing at something Denki said, completely at ease, like he didn’t basically just feel you up in the middle of the living room.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and slip into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to chase away the heat that lingered from your cheeks down to your lower abdomen. Fuck. Why did he have this effect on you? Had it really been that long since someone touched you? You stare at your reflection in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink as if it could steady you. No. You’re not doing this. You know who he is. You know what he’s like. You’re not going to be another notch on Hanta Sero’s belt.

It’s not long before others start arriving and the party kicks into full swing, people scatter across the house. Talking, drinking, dancing, playing stupid card games. Out back on the grass, a group of guys you recognize from Denki’s e-sports club are locked in an intense game of beer pong.

You’re a drink and a half in, standing near the kitchen with Mina, catching up like no time had passed. “So,” Mina says, leaning in close with a sly grin, “are you going to tell me why Sero hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night?”

Your stomach drops, and you nearly choke on your drink. “What are you talking about?” you ask, feigning innocence as you take another sip to cover your reaction. The truth is, you felt eyes on you and you figured maybe, just maybe they might belong to him. You told yourself if you never turned around you’d never know, you’d be safe from whatever spell those brown eyes had on you.

Mina raises an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t play dumb, y/n. I’ve seen him looking over here this entire conversation. It’s almost cute, well, if it wasn’t Hanta.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah, okay. I’m sure Hanta Sero, campus flirt extraordinaire, is suddenly interested in me. He’s probably just bored.”

Mina giggles, pushing you playfully, “be careful n/n, that man doesn’t play fair and he looks like he wants to eat you right now.”

You scoff, shaking your head as if to shake off the thought. “I’m not playing into anything, Mina. I know his type, and I’m not interested.” You wish it were the whole truth, because deep down, in the back of your mind, a part of you wondered if the rumors were true—Hanta Sero, effortlessly strong, attractive, and supposedly great in bed.

“Mmhm,” Mina hums knowingly, but before you can argue, someone calls her name, and she disappears into the crowd.

You glance around the room, and that’s when you catch it—Sero’s gaze, locked on you from across the kitchen. He tilts his head ever so slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, like he’s daring you to look away first.

Shit. You down the rest of your drink, you’re not nearly drunk enough for this. You practically dart to the table, cluttered with bottles of liquor and various mixers. Your eyes scan the options—too much stuff you’d never touch. Your hand goes for the cheap vodka you’d brought, fingers just wrapping around the bottle when a familiar voice makes you jump.

“You drink that cheap shit, ma?” You turn, and of course it’s Hanta, looking at you with a raised brow, he nods his head towards the bottle of vodka your hands now wrapped around.

“gets me drunk, don’t care right now” you mutter back, about to unscrew the cap when he pulls the bottle from your hands. “Let me make you a drink” he offers, his voice low, his gaze never leaving yours. “What’re you gonna put in it?” you ask, half-joking, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your chest.

You don’t think he likes the joke; his brows knit together, and the easy smirk falters. Quickly, you raise a hand, clarifying, “Kidding! I’m kidding.”

His expression softens, and you force a small laugh, nodding. “Alright, fine. Make me something.” You tell yourself the banter is fine, right? His hands reach for a familiar shaped bottle before you yelp in protest. “No, no, no, I don’t drink brown liquor” you dont usually, and especially not tonight you don’t. Brown liquor makes people do things they don’t want to. Things like ending up in Hanta Seros bed. Not happening.

“That’s why you’re drinking that shit, ay bendito” he responds, his face almost in a mocking pout and it does things to you that it absolutely shouldn’t. “Fine.” He speaks again “what do pretty girls like you drink then, hm?”

You bite back the smile creeping onto your face at his words. “Tequila,” you respond, keeping your gaze locked on his. He chuckles. “How come all the pretty girls are into tequila? Shit’s nasty.” You hit him playfully. “Let me live!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, a grin still tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. Tequila it is. But don’t blame me if you regret it later.”

“I think I’ll take my chances, thanks,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes.

He scans the table and frowns. “No tequila.”

Before you can respond, he smirks. “You’re lucky I know where Denks hid the liquor they didn’t want anyone touching. Wait here.”

You blink, and he’s already gone, returning a moment later with a bottle of tequila—definitely not a cheap one. He starts unscrewing the top, and you open your mouth to protest.

“I’ll buy him a new one. Relax, hermosa,” he cuts you off smoothly, his voice low and teasing.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter. “You better, or I’m not taking the fall for you.”

He chuckles, pouring the tequila into a shaker with ease. “Noted. But let’s be real, you wouldn’t sell me out. You’re too sweet for that.”

Your eyes narrow. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, don’t I?” He flashes that signature smirk, and you hate the way it makes your stomach flutter.

He tosses in some ice, a splash of lime juice, and something else you don’t catch before shaking the drink with practiced confidence. “You’re too nice to be a snitch, but also too stubborn to admit you’re impressed right now.”

You scoff, though you can’t deny the latter part. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Only when I’m right,” he fires back. You lean against the counter, pretending not to notice how effortless he looks, even while pouring drinks. His sleeves are rolled up just enough to show off his forearms, and you hate yourself for noticing.

“Salt or no salt?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Sugar” you answer quickly, trying to focus on anything but the way his fingers move as he prepares the drink.

“Figures,” he mutters with a smirk, pouring the drink into a glass and handing it to you. “Try it.”

You take the glass, eyeing him suspiciously before taking a sip. Damn it. It’s good. Really good.

“See?” he says, leaning a little closer. “Told you I got you.”

You roll your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “Alright, not bad. Maybe Denki won’t kill you after all.”

He laughs, and you hate the way the sound forms goosebumps on your skin. “Denks loves me, we’ve been bros a long time, he’ll get over it. I’m replacing more than I even took”

“Let’s hope so” you fire back, taking another sip of the drink, trying not to make it obvious how much you enjoy it, he doesn’t need the ego boost.

Hanta leans against the counter next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. It’s subtle, but enough to make your skin tingle. “You worry too much. Loosen up, hermosa. It’s a party.”

“Who said I’m wound up?” You ask, brow raised. “I dunno..” he trails off for a second “..maybe the fact that you’re ready to bolt whenever I look your way. Do I scare you, sweetheart?” his voice dropping just a bit. It’s not teasing anymore; it’s softer, like he’s trying to figure you out. “What are you so afraid of?”

You hesitate, gripping your glass a little tighter. “I’m not afraid of anything. I just…” You trail off, searching for the right words.

He waits, watching you with a patience you didn’t expect. “Just what?”

“I know your type,” you finally say, your voice steady. “And I’m not interested in playing your game.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, like he’s considering your words. Then, he leans just a little closer, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “What if it’s not a game this time?”

You roll your eyes again, not responding and instead take some more sips of your drink, big ones. Because he’s too close, his voice is too smooth and he smells too good.

The drinks catch up on you, fast. Suddenly you feel the familiar grip of the liquor, the room gets hot, like really hot and you grip the counter to steady yourself.

“Woaaah, careful, sweetheart” Hanta says, his hands help steady you. “Let’s get you some fresh air” you nod, and he guides you out the back door, sitting you on a lawn chair.

The warm fresh summer air feels nice, it’s a little more grounding. You take some deep breaths.

“You good?” He breaks the silence, looking at you and it’s almost like his eyes are laced with genuine concern. You nod. “maybe I should drink some-“ “water?” He cuts you off, handing you a bottle. “Grabbed it on the way outside. Drink up, pretty”

You do, not because he said so but because the you who might not wake up with a raging hangover tomorrow will thank you.

You sit there together, your eyes closed feeling the night breeze. Your eyes open as you hear a click of a lighter. He’s got a joint between his lips, his hand shielding the flame. He takes a long drag, leaning his head back to blow out the smoke.

You watch him for a moment, the way the ember glows in the dark, the smooth, practiced way he exhales. It’s annoyingly attractive, but you shove the thought down.

“Want some?” he offers, holding the joint out to you, his fingers brushing yours lightly as you take it.

“Don’t tell me it’s laced,” you quip, bringing it to your lips.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Would I do that to you, hermosa?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He laughs, and for a second, the sound cuts through the haze in your head, grounding you more than the air had.

You pass it back, letting the quiet settle between you. The muffled sounds of the party drift through the open door, but out here, it’s calm, almost peaceful.

“I’m not as bad as you think, you know,” he says suddenly, his voice softer now.

You glance at him, raising a brow. “Is that what you tell all the girls?”

He shakes his head, taking another drag before handing the joint back to you. “Nah. Just you.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not, but the way he’s looking at you—steady, unflinching—it makes your chest tighten in a way that scares you more than it should.

You blow out a slow stream of smoke, keeping your tone light. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

“Maybe I want to.”

That catches you off guard, and you hate how it makes your stomach flip. You look away, focusing on the stars instead. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, Sero, but—”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he cuts in, his voice low but firm. “I just… like talking to you. That’s all.”

You don’t respond right away, the words settling in your chest. It feels dangerous, letting yourself believe him even for a second. But for now, with the warm breeze, the weed, the tequila, and his stupidly soft gaze, you let the moment linger.

And it has to be just that, the liquor, the weed, because you’re admiring the way he looks in the moonlight, and god is he attractive and your gaze falls so his lips and—

“There you are!” Mina’s voice cuts through the quiet, calling from the open back door. “We’re gonna sing happy birthday!”

Your head snaps toward her, eyes slightly wide, silently pleading with her not to tease you for this later. You push yourself to your feet quickly, brushing past Hanta without a glance.

That was too close. That’s enough talking to him.

You weave through the crowd and join everyone in the kitchen, settling yourself between Kyoka and Mina. Denki’s standing on the other side of her, smiling at the brightly decorated cake set before him. She lights the candles, and the room erupts into a drunken rendition of happy birthday, followed by cheers as Denki blows out the flames and makes his wish.

With a grin, he begins slicing the cake into neat slivers, leaving the pieces on the table with forks for anyone to grab. Cake’s never really been your thing, so you let the others dig in, opting instead to lean against the counter and finally catch up with Jiro for the first time tonight.

You and Jiro talk about everything and nothing—your classes, some ridiculous TikTok she sent you earlier, and gossip about who’s hooking up with who at the party. It’s easy, familiar, and you’re finally starting to relax.

That is, until her eyes flick over your shoulder, and she smirks. “Looks like someone’s looking for you.”

You don’t need to turn around to know who she means. “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying.” She shrugs innocently, but the grin on her face says otherwise.

You glance over your shoulder anyway, and there he is, leaning against the doorway with a lazy, lopsided smile. Hanta catches your gaze like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background.

She nudges your side. “Why not shoot your shot? He’s kinda fine.”

You glare at her, trying not to laugh. “you say that about all your boyfriends friends?”

“liquor makes me honest”

“Y/N!” Denki’s voice cuts through your protest as he throws an arm around your shoulder, effectively dragging you away from Kyoka’s teasing. “C’mon, we’re starting a game of King’s Cup. You in?”

You nod quickly, grateful for the distraction, even if you can still feel Hanta’s eyes on you as you follow Denki into the living room.

You settle into the circle of friends, the familiar sounds of clinking cups and loud laughter filling the air as the game of King’s Cup kicks off. Denki explains the rules to a few new people, but you zone out for a moment, glancing back toward the doorway where Hanta’s still standing. His gaze meets yours again, and you feel that familiar pull—like he’s daring you to make the first move.

Shaking off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, trying to focus on the game. When it’s your turn, you draw a card from the deck, and the room falls quiet as you hold it up. “Ace,” you announce, and the group erupts into groans and playful complaints.

“Waterfall,” Denki says, smirking.

You roll your eyes, but start drinking anyway. The rules are simple—everyone starts drinking, and you can only stop when the person to your right stops. You try to keep your focus on the game, but you can’t help but notice Hanta weaving through the crowd, moving closer to where you’re sitting.

“Careful,” Jirou whispers, leaning in. “I think he’s coming your way.”

You take another gulp, trying to act casual, but your heart races just a little. It’s not like you can avoid him forever, but you’re not sure if you’re ready for whatever’s about to happen.

As the game goes on, you can’t shake the feeling of Hanta’s presence. He’s not even doing anything overt—just casually chatting with people, laughing, and making his way through the room with that same relaxed confidence. But every so often, you catch him glancing in your direction, his eyes lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Finally, it’s your turn again. You draw another card, heart skipping a beat as you see it’s the dreaded “King.” The room goes silent, everyone watching you.

“Alright,” you say, trying to mask your unease, “time to fill the cup.” You grab your drink and pour some into the middle cup, your gaze flicking back to Hanta as you do. He’s still looking at you, leaning against the wall with that same lazy smile. The tension between you two feels thicker than before.

You hear him laugh with some other people in the room, but it only serves to make you more aware of his presence. The game continues around you, but you can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching you—waiting for something.

The rest of the game passes in a blur. You laugh at all the right moments, throw your cards in the air when someone gets a bad card, but underneath it all, you’re hyper-aware of Hanta’s presence just across the room. Every time you catch his gaze, you quickly look away, trying to focus on the game and ignore the drop in your stomach.

Unsurprisingly, Denki wins the game. “Looks like I’m the King after all!” Denki announces with a grin, holding up his hands in mock triumph.

Everyone groans good-naturedly, but you can’t help but feel relieved it’s over. You take a deep breath, your nerves slowly easing as the night continues on. Everything’s hitting you, all the liquor, the weed, but honestly you feel great.

Mina drags you onto the dance floor. The music pulses around you, the beat vibrating in your chest as you move with Mina. It’s a carefree moment, your laughter echoing in the room, but beneath it, there’s that undeniable tension. Hanta’s gaze burns into you from across the room, his eyes never leaving you as you dance.

You meet his stare, challenging him without a word. With every sway of your hips, you feel his eyes follow, hungry, intense. Your hands move, tracing along your own body, slow and deliberate, knowing he’s watching, waiting.

It’s almost like a game—one you said you wouldn’t play, one he swore he wasn’t playing. But the pull between you is magnetic, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. You can almost hear him groan under his breath, the way his jaw tightens, but you don’t break eye contact.

Mina’s beside you, oblivious to the silent standoff between you and Hanta, lost in her own world of dancing. You, however, can’t stop the heat rising in your chest. You’re not sure who’s winning this game, but you’re certain you’re not losing. Not yet.

You smirk at him, then turn your body away, breaking the eye contact as you continue to dance with Mina. This game, teasing him, is fun—but you’re still focused on dancing with your girl.

The song ends and some random is grabbing minas hand, beckoning her to dance with him, she looks back at you silently before you laugh and nod in approval, she gives you an apologetic “sorry for ditching you!” smile and lets the boy pull her away

Another song plays, one you love so you dance by yourself, almost forgetting about Hanta until you feel strong hands on your hips. You turn your head slightly and there he is behind you, guiding your hips against him to the music and for once you don’t run, you let your body relax into his.

He’s holding a bottle in one of his hands and you reach for it before he pulls it back. “You said you don’t like it dark.” He raises a brow. “Well, I do now” you respond, trying to pull the bottle from him. Who cares, that shit about mixing liquor is a myth anyway. He stills your body, unscrewing the cap.

“Open” he commands. You do, tilting your head back as he pours a shot straight into your mouth. The liquor runs down your throat, and you swallow with a grimace. He then reaches up, wiping the spill from your mouth with his thumb, his touch lingering.

Your gaze meets his again and you let your head fall back to his shoulder, still grinding against him to whatever song was playing now. He leans his head down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You look so good like this.”

You giggle in response, pressing your body against his harder and he starts to pepper kisses on your neck. Before you can stop it a sound erupts from the back of your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You’re silently cursing Mina for leaving you, but you know it’s not her fault. It’s not her fault because you’re tired of denying that you want this. You want him.

“I guess you win” you whisper back to him, he raises his head to look you in the eye, you break the gaze, looking at his lips again, Inching closer. Fuck it. You let your lips crash against his.

The kiss is sloppy, drunken, all teeth and tongue but somehow the way his hand caresses the side of your face is so intimate, the way the other holds the back of your head is gentle.

You spin, to face him, easing the strain on your own neck and let your arms wrap around his. His hands trail slowly down your body, landing on your ass. Of course.

You both pull away for air, eyes locking again, you lips kiss swollen, face flushed, his lips trail kisses sdown your neck again and you pull him off, eyes silently beckoning him. His eyes scan your face, looking for any hint of regret. It’s like you know, because you nod reassuringly and he’s grabbing your hand and leading you to the spare bedroom in the house, the one you’d be sleeping in tonight even if it wasn’t with Hanta.

He’s pushing you against the door, closing and locking it, murmuring how he “finally gets to have you.” You’d question it, but It feels like fire is igniting in your entire body because, god you wanted this. You always did.

You let his hands explore you, feel you, ignite fire on your skin. There’s more to him, you know there is, and right now you don’t care about his reputation, you just want him.

You wake up hours later, wrapped in sheets and Hantas limbs, his warm body coaxing you back to sleep but you can’t ignore the dull ache of your head.

Your hand blindly searches the nightstand for your phone, 5:30am.

Your gaze falls on the raven haired boy sleeping beside you, arm sprawled across your body holding you almost protectively. You blink, recalling the events of the night. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he’s different, there’s more to him.

The thoughts fly back in forth in your brain as you try to rationalize. You wish you could believe him. Hanta Sero, the fuckboy, the player.

You blink again and you’re outside, the sun starting to rise and you step into an uber.

You told him, you’re not playing his game.

——

A/n: YOUNG AND HE FINE AND HE TALL AND HE HANDSOMEEEE. Feeding sero nation 🫡 also hehe me when I said I’d write part 2 to a sign of affection and then I wrote this instead

Tags: @mimzyu @beebunsx

[heeambi]

54 with heeseung

You guys were out having lunch together when this rowdy group of guys started to harass you, two of them making lewd comments about you. Heeseung, who was sitting right next to you, clenched his fists in anger, his protective instinct taking over.

“Yo,” he snapped, standing up from his seat. “Back off before I make you.” The two guys scoffed, their arrogance very obvious. “What are you going to do, huh?" one of them sneered.

Y/n sensed Heeseung’s tension and tried to calm him down, placing a hand on his chest. “Baby, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soothing. “They’re just jerks; it's not worth it.” But Heeseung wasn't listening. The anger was raging inside him; he needed to teach these dicks a lesson.

He takes a few steps closer to the two guys, his expression dark. “I warned you,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. The guys snickered, their confidence wavering slightly as they realized Heeseung wasn't gonna back down. “You think you're such hot stuff, hm?” one of them barked.

Heeseung’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into tighter fists at his sides. Y/n saw the muscles tensing under the thin fabric of his shirt. “Last chance,” he warned. “Back off, now.” The guys exchanged a look, their bravado faltering. They didn't expect someone to stand up to them like this. One of them took a step back, ready to retreat. But the other, the one who had commented the most, looked at him defiantly. “Or what?” he challenged

Heeseung stood silent. Instead, he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the male’s law with a sickening crunch. The guy fell to the ground hard, clutching at his face in pain. The other guy stared in horror; his bravado immediately shattered. She gasped, surprised by the sudden violence. She grabbed Heeseung’s arm, trying to pull him away from the man. “Heeseung, stop!” she pleaded. “That’s enough!!”

He seemed snapped out of his anger-fueled haze, his eyes flickering over to y/n. The sight of her, worried and frightened, made him pause. He turned back to the guy on the ground, who was still holding his jaw and groaning in pain. He leaned down, glowering over him. “If you ever touch her again next time, I won't be this nice.” His voice was cold and venomous.

The guy nodded frantically, fear clear in his eyes. Heeseung straightened up, his anger somewhat deflated. Y/n is still gripping onto his arm, her eyes still widening. “Let’s go,” she whispered, tugging on his jacket. Heeseung complies, allowing himself to be led away from the scene. As they walked, he clenched and unclenched his fists, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. He could feel y/n’s eyes on him, and the weight of her worry.

She didn't say anything at first. Guiding him down a quieter street, away from the commotion and the judgmental glances from the passersby. When they're a safe distance away, “What the hell was that?” her voice is a mix of worry and scolding. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I just…..saw them harassing you, and I lost it. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing.”

Y/n stopped walking, forcing him to look at her. “You could have gotten yourself seriously hurt,” she said, her tone serous. “You can't just fly off the fucking handle like that every time someone tries to mess with me.” He huffed, irritation coloring his expression. “Am I just supposed to let them disrespect you just like that?” he retorts. “Sit back and pretend It's not happening?”

“No, of course not!” y/n protested, shaking her head. “I don't want you to just let them walk all over me. I can handle myself. But there are ways to stand up for me without resorting to violence at the drop of a hat.”

He huffed again, running a hand through his hair once again. He knew she was right, but part of him still wanted to defend his actions. “What else was I supposed to do? They wouldn't have left you alone unless I interfered.”

“You could have ignored them," y/n suggested. “Or told time off firmly but without getting physical. I'm not a damsel in distress, you know.” Heeseung frowned, her words stinging a bit. “I know you're not a damsel in distress,” he snapped. “But you know I can't just sit back and watch someone treat you like a piece of shit. It pisses me off.”

Click here to see the rest of my event collection list !

[hell-drabbles]

Lucifer 5

Summary: Lucifer, compared to the other devil kings, tends to keep his distance, often preferring to be alone with his thoughts, ever observing what's going on around him. With you, however, you noticed he's been getting closer.

(More Companion and Lucifer intimacy! Been a long while. I wonder what other intimate moments between the Companion and Lucifer I should write?)

Of all beings, you never thought Lucifer would get caught up in your rhythm. Every other devil king you've met has been a storm of their own, a being that walks forward and expects everything and everyone to follow without a single question. They take pride in that, so much so that it leads to constant clashes with all the other kings around them.

All the other kings, save for Lucifer. He and the other devils share the title of kings, and are all collectively known as the seven kings of Hell, but that's about where the similarities end.

You can't say that the other devils treat Lucifer with respect, so much as they just generally leave him to his own devices, as though any attempt to butt heads with him was just not worth it. It's… almost a kind of caution, an awareness that so long as they don't directly challenge him, then Lucifer won't say a thing. It's almost the same social distance they give Asmodeus.

You can't say you're shocked, those two don't exactly think, nor carry themselves in the way the other devil kings do.

That being said, it was very easy to notice the way Lucifer was always one step closer to you than others. How he's taken to always face you with his entire body whenever you talked, no matter how he had to adjust his seat or posture. How, whenever you take a walk through Paradise Lost, Lucifer would eventually drift by and walk with you. Whatever you do, Lucifer was bound to not be too far behind.

And so here you both are, near a tree that Lucifer was just napping under until you walked by and paused to give him time to rouse himself. You didn't need to say anything. You both knew he was going to walk with you. It's routine by this point.

Lucifer walked past the usual distance he'd keep with others. He stopped right before you, shoes almost touching yours. You both nodded in greeting, then simply stood still, enjoying the gentle whistling of the wind and the calm flow of your breathing.

"Huh, you like being near me." It's not really a question, simply a statement of fact. No need to be a tease or coy about it. Why bother making a game out of it when the reward was right there for the taking?

"I do," he said, with that rare, gentle smile of his, barely there but too big a change to ever ignore. Of course he wouldn't mince his words.

"You find comfort in a human like me." You didn't lean away nor yearned to put distance between the both of you. Instead, you uncrossed your arms and upturned your palms. As though you've both done this thousands of times, Lucifer slid his hands against yours. "Weird."

"How so?" Lucifer's face settled into a carefully neutral expression, but you can tell he's just a hair away from frowning. You're sure an expression like that would scare the shit out of Ra-on.

"If you wanted to, I could easily just be another smear on the pavement." And such power brings about the expectation of arrogance, whether intentional or otherwise. All the other devils here, big and small, carried themselves with that air that only became more apparent once your physical limitations were discovered. You've grown used to arrogance and were ready to take it in stride. If not dismissed, you expected to be treated as the most fragile thing in Hell. "And here you are, treasuring me like an equal."

Lucifer didn't set you aside, nor did he insist what you can or can't do. Your anger was not a childish or reckless temper tantrum but a reaction to a problem that he knows must be resolved. For the first time in a long while, you found a piece of yourself relaxing. If you were to nap now, you know you'd wake up without dreading what you'll have to tolerate for that day.

"The place you call home weighs heavily on you," Lucifer closed his eyes, as though trying to imagine your every burden as his thumb stroked your skin, "in much the same way it does for me. Is it wrong to find solace in someone that understands? In someone that needs the quiet as much as I do?"

A short chuckle escaped you as Lucifer leaned in closer, but stopped short of pressing his forehead against yours. "Seems we're both just incredibly lonely, huh? But no, it's not wrong in the least."

"Then, I can assume that we both bring the other joy?" Strands of Lucifer's hair moved to the side as he tilted his head, pretending to be curious even though that smile said he knew what your answer was.

"Joy, huh?" you sighed, and allowed yourself to indulge just this little bit, "Yeah, I guess you can assume that."

[fanofstuff01]

(Here it is! Hope you enjoy part one! 😉)

They hadn’t meant to get caught. 

It just happened, one minute him and Lilith were busy making sweet love to one another, the next Adam was screaming,

Adam: There they are! I told you! 

And suddenly he and Lilith were surrounded by all of Lucifer’s elder brothers and sisters. Their sharp eyes glowing in rage at the sight of their union. However, what truly caught his attention was Adam. He wasn’t looking at either of them in anger or disgust, but of genuine sorrow. Tears shone through the first man's eyes as he tried to look away from the scene of betrayal but couldn’t. 

 Which confused the angel deeply. He thought he'd be angry at them. He’d curse them, shout at them, tell Lucifer that Lilith was his wife, not his. However none of what he predicted happened. It made no sense, Lilith told him that Adam was possessive and tried to control her interactions with Lucifer whenever the Angel was away. His reaction, plain and simple, didn't make any sense. 

He didn’t have to think about it for long as soon someone much more powerful than all the angels descended upon the mortal plane in all his glory. 

His Father

Lucifer tried not to let his fear slip through and tried to get himself and Lilith to bow. However, Lilith did not move an inch, no matter how hard he pulled on her arms and begged in whispers. She simply stared at her creator as if he was nothing. 

“LILITH, LUCIFER YOU HAVE BOTH COMMITTED A GREAT CRIME. THE CRIME OF ADULTERY.  LUCIFER YOU HAVE TEMPTED THE FIRST WOMAN WITH THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT OF YOUR LOINS AND IT HAD ALREADY AFFECTED HER. SHE, LIKE YOU, IS NO LONGER PURE. FOR SHE HAS SINNED. YOU BOTH HAVE. FOR THAT PUNISHMENT SHALL HE BROUGHT UPON THE BOTH OF YOU. THAT PUNISHMENT WILL BE OF COURSE, BANISHMENT YOU ARE TO NEVER SET FOOT IN THE PLACE THAT YOU CALLED HOME AGAIN. 

Lucifer: NO! Please understand Father. Lilith and I, we are in love! Adam wished to control her! But I saved her. In turn She saved me. She understands me like no one else. We simply wish to.

“I AM WELL AWARE OF WHAT YOU AND LILITH WISH FOR. INDIVIDUALLY. HOWEVER, MY PUNISHMENT WAS NOT JUST FOR HER LUCIFER THE MORNINGSTAR. OR AS THE PROPER TERM NOW WOULD BE FORMER MORNINGSTAR. 

He then reached down and placed a gentle hand on his son’s head. Lucifer started to feel tingly all over as he felt all his energy drain from him. 

“LUCIFER, HEAVEN’S ONCE SHINING STAR AND ANGEL OF MUSIC. I HEREBY EVICT YOU FROM YOUR POWERS AND PLACE IN PARADISE. FROM NOW ON YOU SHALL WALK ON EARTH AS A MORTAL SINCE YOU ARE SO KEEN TO FALL FOR ONE.” 

With one last breath all of Lucifer’s magic was gone. Not only that but his wings and markings of a holy being. In its wake lay a pale blue eyed man. Much to the shock and horror to everyone around him. When Lucifer finally managed to lift his eyes to meet Lilith’s gaze. He was beyond belief when instead of the sympathetic look in her eyes he’d expected there was nothing but disgust. 

“BUT DO NOT FRET LUCIFER FOR THIS MORTAL SHELL YOU ARE CONFINED IN IS ONLY TEMPORARY. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS VERY EASY. YOU MUST START HUMANITY WITH LILITH IN ORDER TO EARN BACK YOUR WINGS. I WISH FOR YOU TO BE FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY. EVEN LILITH CAN EARN HER WAY TO HEAVEN THIS WAY. TO PAY BACK IN FULL FOR WHAT SHE HAS DONE. NOW WITH ALL THIS POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE OUT OF THE WAY…”

Lucifer and Lilith suddenly found themselves on the outside of the gates of Eden. Lilith is no longer naked and Lucifer no longer in his garbs. They both had on the skin of an animal. He looked back up at his Father in confusion but he simply turned his head away and pointed out into the distance.

“THERE JUST A FEW MILES FROM HERE LAYS WHAT YOU NEED. I SHALL TAKE MY LEAVE NOW. GOOD LUCK TO THE BOTH OF YOU. FOR YOU WILL NEED IT FOR THE LONG JOURNEY AHEAD.”

In a blink of an eye he was gone leaving just the first woman and the now second man alone with each other.

((YES!!!

Also I feel like Lilith wouldn’t be an openly bitch at the start, still a bitch but more of a manipulative one, because she knows Lucifer can still leave her alone. However when Charlie is born she isn’t going to keep up her act))

Lucifer’s legs trembled as he struggled to keep himself on his feet. He felt like he could pass out any second, his new body was so weak in ways he’s never felt before. He had never noticed due to his powerful magic flowing inside his veins, but his figure was too fragile when given to a human.

He felt a semi gentle hand on his shoulder and let himself relax. Lilith. Lilith was there. They were in this together.

Lilith: Come on. We can’t just stand here if we want to survive. Can you walk?

Her tone was fakely sweet, but Lucifer couldn’t even tell that it was. All he heard was his so called lover caring for him.

Lucifer: I-I think so.

-

After what felt like a forever, just when Lucifer felt like all his energy was finally gone and he was going to collapse, Lilith stopped.

Lilith: I think here would be fine, yeah?

Lucifer: Mhm…

He couldn’t even think as he went and hugged Lilith from behind, falling to sleep immediately. He had to rest.

Lilith’s face went from determined to pure disgust again in seconds. She would push him off her but she didn’t want to risk the baby waking up, so she “gently” left him to the floor and went to search for things to eat.

Better someone does it in this pathetic excuse for a group.

[getobitchs]

When Stars Give Up On Shining - M. T.

✧.* content warning : angst, lovers to enemies to lovers?, kinda fluff at the end

✧.* w/c : 2.5k

✧.* n/a : nothin to say just thank you for reading also… why is there barely ANY angst with michi?

✧.* tagline : @sugurus-thoughts ;

₊ ⊹🪻 ✧ ˚i

Since you were younger, you had always admired your friend, Michikatsu. He wasn’t the type to dote or play games like others your age. Instead, he carried himself with quiet pride, his every movement calculated, his words deliberate. To you, he was a constant — a figure as sturdy and dependable as the mountains that framed your village.

Your admiration blossomed into something deeper as the years went by. By the time you were of age, your heart belonged entirely to him. To your surprise, your feelings didn’t go unnoticed. One spring evening, under the blooming cherry blossoms, Michikatsu had stood before you, his stern expression softening as he murmured words you had only dreamed of hearing:

“You have my heart. If you’ll have me, I wish for us to wed.”

The marriage had been nothing short of a dream. Despite his reserved nature, Michikatsu had always found ways to show his love for you. He would place his haori over your shoulders when the nights grew cold, his calloused hands brushing against your skin. He wasn’t a man of grand gestures, but you cherished the small moments—the quiet mornings spent in his arms, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in his world, and you were.

For a time, it felt like the world had blessed you beyond measure.

But dreams, as beautiful as they are, cannot last forever.

The change was subtle at first. Michikatsu began spending longer hours training, his obsession with becoming stronger consuming him. The need to surpass his brother taking over his soul, mind and heart. You understood his dedication — it was a part of who he was — but it began to eat away at the time you once shared. He spoke less, his shoulders growing heavier with burdens he refused to share.

One night, as he prepared to leave for yet another mission, you reached out, gripping his sleeve. “Michikatsu,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Be safe, okay? I love you.”

He froze, his back to you. For a moment, you thought he might stay. But then he gently pulled his sleeve free from your grasp. “I must go,” was all he said, his tone void of the warmth you once knew.

You watched him disappear into the night, the ache in your chest growing with every step he took away from you.

Time passed, and the distance between you only widened. You tried to bridge it — waiting for him with warm meals, attempting to speak of lighter things to ease his mind — but Michikatsu was no longer the man you had married. His eyes, once filled with love, were now clouded with doubt and resentment.

One day, he came home after weeks away, his expression grave. You rushed to greet him, only to stop short when you saw the look in his eyes.

He looked completely heartless… not a thing wandering through his mind but surpassing his brother, Yoriichi. That had consumed him entirely. Though you loved him fiercely, it wasn’t enough to pull him from the shadows he had chosen to embrace.

The night he left for good, there were no goodbyes. You woke to find his side of the futon cold, his belongings gone. All that remained was a single, folded note.

I am sorry.

The words were simple, yet they shattered you.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks. The cherry blossoms bloomed and withered, yet your heart remained frozen in the moment you realized he was truly gone.

People spoke of Michikatsu in whispers —rumors of a man who had forsaken everything for power, who had walked a path so dark that no light could reach him. But to you, he was still the man who had once held you under those blossoms and promised you forever.

Even now, as you stood alone beneath the same tree, petals falling around you like snow, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

But oh, how you wanted to.

You wanted to hate the man who had left you with nothing but a folded piece of paper and the ghost of his touch. You wanted to scream at the sky, curse the heavens, and rail against the cruelty of loving someone who had chosen ambition over you. But every time you tried to summon anger, it dissolved into something softer, weaker.

Grief.

The ache of his absence wrapped itself around your ribs, squeezing tighter with each passing day. You carried it everywhere, like a wound that refused to heal. The mornings were the hardest — waking up to an empty bed, the silence pressing down on you like a physical weight. You still reached for him sometimes, your hand meeting only cold sheets. It was a cruel reminder of what you had lost.

And yet, you clung to the memories.

You remembered the way his voice had softened when he spoke your name, how he would tuck stray strands of hair behind your ear. You remembered the nights you spent curled against his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The way his rare, small smiles could light up your entire world. Those moments were treasures, and yet they were daggers, cutting you anew each time you dared to recall them.

Weeks turned into seasons, and the rumors about Michikatsu only grew darker. You tried not to listen, but it was impossible to ignore the whispers:

“A man consumed by power.”

“They say he’s no longer human.”

“A demon.”

You refused to believe it at first. The Michikatsu you knew — the man who had once brushed cherry blossom petals from your hair — couldn’t become something so monstrous. But as the rumors spread, doubt crept in like a shadow, planting seeds of fear and uncertainty in your heart.

What if the whispers were true? What if the man you loved had truly fallen so far?

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of red and gold, you found yourself standing before the tree again. Your fingers brushed against the rough bark, grounding yourself as tears welled in your eyes.

You tilted your head back to gaze at the cherry blossoms, their delicate petals fluttering down like whispers of a past you couldn’t let go of. “I wonder…” you murmured, your voice breaking, “if you ever think of me, Michikatsu. If you ever remember what we had.”

The words hung in the air, a fragile offering to the silence. You wiped your tears, willing yourself to turn away, to go home and let the ache settle for another night. But then, a chill ran down your spine.

It was subtle at first — a shift in the air, a heaviness that pressed against your skin. The wind stilled, and the world seemed to hold its breath. Your heart raced as you turned back to the tree, dread and hope warring within you.

That’s when you saw him.

A figure emerged from the shadows of the forest, his silhouette framed by the dying light of the sun. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his presence suffocating.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Michikatsu?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

The man standing before you was both familiar and foreign. His face was unmistakably his, but it was marked by something unnatural — something monstrous. His eyes, once warm and dark, now gleamed a haunting gold, slit like a predator’s, and they were… six? His body exuded a terrifying aura, a power that made your knees weak.

It was him. But it wasn’t.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again as you took in the changes, the darkness that had consumed him.

“It’s been a long time,” he finally said, his voice deep and smooth, yet devoid of the warmth you remembered.

You swallowed hard, your tears threatening to spill over. “You… you’re alive.”

His lips twitched into something that might have been a smile, though it held no joy. “Alive. If you can call it that.”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you tried to steady your breathing. “Why… why are you here, Michikatsu? After all these years, after everything, why now?”

He averted his gaze, his jaw tightening. “I shouldn’t have come. But I had to see you.”

“Why?” you demanded, your voice rising with a mix of anger and desperation. “To remind me of what you left behind? To show me what you’ve become?”

His golden eyes flickered, a shadow of pain crossing his features. “I left because I thought it was the only way to protect you. I wanted to spare you from the life I knew was coming for me. But…” He trailed off, his shoulders slumping slightly. “It was never enough.”

You took a shaky step forward, your heart aching at the sight of him — this man who had once been your world, now standing before you as a stranger. “You think leaving protected me?” you whispered. “You think abandoning me made it easier? I’ve spent every day mourning you, Michikatsu. Every single day.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his expression. Guilt. Regret. Pain. “I know,” he said softly. “I know what I did to you. And I will carry that with me for as long as I exist.”

Your tears fell freely now, streaking down your cheeks as you stepped even closer. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t get to come back after all this time, looking like this, and act like you care.”

“I do care,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I never stopped. Even now…”

He reached out as if to touch you, but his hand froze in the air. He pulled it back, his claws curling into a fist at his side.

“You’re lying,” you said, though the words felt hollow. You wanted to believe him, but the man standing before you was so far removed from the one you loved. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have left. If you cared, you wouldn’t have turned into… this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His expression hardened, and the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes vanished.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said again, stepping back.

“No,” you choked out, panic rising in your chest. “You don’t get to leave again. You don’t get to walk away without explaining why you did this to us — why you left me, why you became…”

“A demon,” he finished for you, his voice sharp.

You flinched at the word, and his expression softened, though the sadness in his eyes remained.

“I became what I am because I was weak,” he said quietly. “Because I could never be what I wanted to be — not for you, not for anyone. And now, I can never be the man you loved.”

Your chest tightened as he turned away, his figure disappearing back into the shadows.

“Michikatsu!” you called after him, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this again. Please.”

He paused, his back to you. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, that he might stay. But then he spoke, his voice low and final:

“I’ve already done enough damage. You deserve better than this. Better than me.”

And with that, he was leaving again.

You sank to your knees beneath the cherry blossoms, sobs wracking your body as the petals fell around you like the pieces of your shattered heart.

But then, the wind shifted.

It was subtle at first, a breeze carrying the scent of the blossoms. But then it grew stronger, almost alive, as if the world itself was resisting his departure. You looked up, your tear-streaked face catching the faintest glow of the moonlight, and saw him standing at the edge of the forest.

Kokushibo had stopped.

He stood frozen, his broad shoulders tense, his clawed hand flexing at his side. You couldn’t see his face, but his hesitation spoke volumes.

“Don’t go,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. You pushed yourself to your feet, your knees trembling. “Please, Michi-sama. Don’t leave me again.”

The air grew still as if waiting for his answer. Slowly, he turned to face you. The golden light of his six eyes was dimmer now, the predatory gleam overshadowed by something human — something that made your chest ache.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not the man you knew. I’m not the man you loved. I’ve done things — terrible things. If I stay, I’ll only bring you pain.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “You think I haven’t felt pain already? You think I haven’t lived every day with the agony of losing you?” Your voice wavered, but you pressed on. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I don’t care what you’ve become. All I care about is the man who once held my hand under these blossoms and promised me forever.”

His claws twitched, his eyes darting away as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. But you didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t see you? Even now, with all the darkness, I see the man I loved. The man I still love.” Your voice broke on the last word, but you didn’t care. “And I know he’s still in there.”

Kokushibo’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, he looked… small. Defeated.

“You’re wrong,” he murmured. “I can’t go back. I can’t undo what I’ve done.”

“Then don’t.” You took another step, now standing just a few feet away. “Don’t go back. Just come home.”

His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The weight of your words hung between you, fragile yet unyielding.

“Home…” he whispered, as if the word itself was foreign to him.

“You’re still my home,” you said softly, tears streaming down your face. “No matter how far you’ve gone, no matter how much you’ve changed, you’ll always be my home.”

The wall around him cracked. You saw it in the way his hands trembled, the way his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out toward you. His claws brushed against your cheek, cold and unfamiliar, but the touch made your heart leap.

“Do you really think there’s anything left of me to love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You covered his hand with your own, holding it against your face. “I don’t just think it — I know it.”

For a long moment, he stared at you, his golden eyes glistening with something you hadn’t seen in years. Hope.

Then, with a shuddering breath, Kokushibo closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms.

His embrace was hesitant at first, as if he feared you would pull away. But when you didn’t, when you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth, he tightened his hold.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your hair.

“Let me decide that,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the ache in your heart eased. He was here, holding you, and no matter what demons he carried, you knew you would face them together.

Under the cherry blossoms, with petals falling around you like a blessing, you allowed yourself to hope again.

This time, you wouldn’t let him go.

[boothillsw1fe]

"The Promise has Three Ends,"

"One to be an Angel who is bound by humans, One to be a human who encounters the Angel, and One to perish fulfilling their end of the vow."

Made for my friend Mel!!

You were wandering the halls of the hell known as "The Hadal Blacksite", time dragging itself more and more. Time.. time was a concept you knew no longer; there was never a sense of time down here, anyways. All clocks that once hung on walls were gone , and the only clocks that did once work were the watches on the hands of dead Urbanshade employees, now broken with cracks of glass across their surfaces, you would encounter every ten rooms or so.

You had no idea how long you had been down here, how long it had been since you had last eaten, last heard the voice of another human being, not counting Sebastian Solace, the mutant you encountered a while back. How long back? You don't know, nor do you care.

You had one job, get the crystal, and get the fuck out of here.

That was until you opened up the door to a room you believed to be filled with loose assets you were instructed to collect; instead, you were met with an ever-so familiar sight, an irritated sigh falling from your lips, the bridge made of (poorly welded together) metal beams holding your weight as you walked across it. When you stopped looking at the ground and finally took a moment to look up, your heart both sped up its beating, and stopped it all at once.

You've seen big; Anglers, Candlebearers, Sebastian fucking Solace, but this? The others were mere child's play compared to this thing, this creature.

You wished to turn around and forget this room even existed in the first place, but something about it just intrigued you, just drew you in closer. Before you knew it, your feet moved on their own, and you now stood a good distance from it.

It didn't seem to notice you, which was probably a good thing. Giving how massive it was, it would probably not be happy that you would be the disturbance of the slumber it laid in. Your eyes scanned its every detail, from the halo that floated above its head, spinning counterclockwise from your angle, a white pointed object that you couldn't recognize covering what seemed to be its face, its body being the angelic equivalent of an optical illusion, which only drew you in further.

Upon getting closer, you noticed that it's two arms were attached to two pillars, a feeling of guilt deep in your stomach; why was such a beautiful creature like this being bound to pillars? How did it get here in the first place? Your train of thought was interrupted when it lifted its head, its singular eye on its head and singular eye on its chest darting towards the direction you stood at. You couldn't help but feel intimidated, yet entranced at the same time, coming closer.

When it let out an inhumane noise, the room shaking as it did so, you took that as your sign to get the hell away from it. You backed away as slowly as possible, but no matter how far you got, it's eyes still locked onto you as yours did to it.

"There has to be a document for you,"

You told yourself as you began searching, first on the left of you, then to the right, where you found what you needed, the blood on your hands from your earlier Pandemonium encounter staining its vanilla casing slightly.

"The Guardian Angel of the Banlands" the title read as you opened it, your eyes scanning throughout the document to find the information you needed, but it's quick scanning slowed down, filling with horror instead.

"The Guardian posed absolutely no threat."

"The Angel attempted to peacefully coax the invading forces back through the portal without physical contact."

"The death of expeditionee Rivers was purely accidental, as he was crushed under the foot of the Guardian after it tripped and stumbled. the Guardian was obviously remorseful of its action."

"The Guardian attempted to communicate to the remaining forces to show them the grave for Rivers it had constructed. The Guardian was then struck down over this grave and then transported back to Earth."

You slammed the document shut, your watery eyes looking at the divine creature that stared back at you, its blood being stolen from it in that very moment you two locked eyes. No longer afraid of its height, you came closer and closer until you could look up at it at the same angle it could look down at you.

"You were only trying to be nice."

It let out another noises, but its head moved up and down this time around, another habit it picked up from humans.

"I promise you, I'll get that damn crystal, and when I shove it down old man Shade's throat, I'm coming back here and I'm finding a way to get you out of here, even if it does mean striking a deal with him."

If you could, you would've reached a hand outwards to it and touched it, but considering its height, that wasn't possible. You only nodded at it, walking backwards.

"Promise me you'll live long enough for me to come back for you."

It nodded back at you, a sigh-like noise rumbling the room once more as its head fell back into its resting state, both of its eyes closing.

Exiting the room, you clenched your bloodied fists together, marching onward, not even noticing the Wall Dweller that unearthed itself from the wall behind you following closely behind.

[written-in-the-clouds]

part 1

notes: i am so eepy but i just finished editing this so here it is <3

To most, you seemed to be Quirkless. No visual differences, no flashy Emitter ability, just an average person.

Still, you didn’t have that toe joint.

You frowned at a bag of chocolate, trying to decide if the price was worth it. Faintly, the store bell tinkled as someone stepped inside. The day was darkening, blue fading to orange fading to black. You exhaled, replacing the bag on the shelf. There were four other customers in the store and the cashier, excluding the one who had just entered. Someone sucked in a sharp breath, and another shrieked. You lifted your head.

The new patron had neatly trimmed black hair, a clean-shaven face, and a small smile. He surveyed the room silently as people stepped back, pressing themselves to shelves, fumbling for their phones, an air of panic rising. You blinked, frowned. 

Someone murmured, “What is that?!” and that’s when you realized that this must be a Quirk. The stranger stepped toward the counter as the cashier paled and raised an arm in a vain attempt to shield themself. A stupid plan began to formulate in your head as you noted the fear-paralyzed figures around them. You sent a message to the first chat you had open and walked out from the shelves.

Anxiety prickled at your neck and you swallowed it down harshly. The well-groomed stranger turned to you, grin sharpening and then suddenly fading when you didn’t react.

“Bravery or foolishness?” he mused quietly, as if not expecting you to hear. “Everyone has different reactions to fear.”

“What are you talking about?” you replied immediately, and surprise flashed through his face. You stepped between him and the counter.

He tipped his head. “You can see me?”

You didn’t respond, instead asking, “What do they see?”

He raised his arms from his sides in a sweeping motion. “Whatever they fear most.” A smile crossed his lips again, and he bowed slightly with his arms still extended. “But I am certain that you do not fear me most.”

It was because of your Quirk, of course. Your Quirk was called Null. Quirks were useless against you – at least, the majority of Emitters and a few others. You saw this man’s true form. For a moment, you wondered what you would have seen. Yet, your Quirk could not be deactivated, and it was a thought you discarded.

“What do you want from this shop?” you asked.

“Money, of course,” he said smoothly. “Whatever reason my Quirk isn’t affecting you – You seem like a smart kid. Get out of my way.”

You took a shaky breath. “No, thank you.”

Whatever polite air surrounded this man sharpened in an instant. “Hm,” he said, taking a step closer. “Last chance. Don’t play hero, kid.”

“I’m not a hero,” you said. “But I think you should leave.”

He pulled out a thin, sharp blade from his coat. “You know,” he said, taking another step closer, “I generally don’t like to hurt kids.”

A knife is buried in your left pant pocket. You could feel it against your leg. Yet between the amount of time it would take you to reach it, and the distance to this stranger’s blade – you couldn’t risk it. Your hands were shaking too much, anyway.

He took another step, and you did something stupid.

You tackled him.

His legs, to be specific. He was taller, and the knife – you aimed for his legs to bring him to the ground. It wasn’t your smartest move, in hindsight. He immediately sliced the knife along your back, and you felt a shriek rip from your throat, the pain unexpected. It burned along your spine.

In a wave of animalistic instinct you bit his thigh, hard, and he grunted. The reaction spurred you on, and you hit and kicked and struggled to keep him on the ground with you. You felt more hot blood trickle down your neck, but adrenaline and desperation kept you from feeling the majority of the pain.

It bought you time, and that’s what you needed. The bell by the door rang. When you glanced up, you saw a blinding red light and a static pain spread through your skull and 

Your vision went black.

When you woke up again, you jerked to an upright position before a hand stopped you. 

“Don’t move too much,” the man advised in a quiet voice. When you blinked the spots from your vision, you recognized him immediately and flinched back. Eraserhead. He glanced over your shoulder. “Have you called the ambulance?”

“Ah– no, don’t call them,” you said quickly. You felt a bandage wrapped around your back and shoulders. “I can’t– uh. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. You still need medical attention, kid.” You stiffened, remembering what the stranger had called you. “What did you even do?”

“Uh.” You grinned sheepishly. “I kinda charged at him.”

“You what?” came a second voice, which quickly stepped into view. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, with messy indigo hair and deep eyebags. He wore a scarf — capture weapon, you corrected yourself — similar to Eraserhead’s. A hero trainee, almost certainly. “Why?”

“I didn’t think it out very well.”

“Clearly,” Eraserhead added dryly. 

“What else was I meant to do? Let him take the money?”

“That would have been preferable,” the villain said in a soft lilt, smiling, and the trainee with indigo hair glared at him. He was tied up carefully, with cuffs on his wrists. He looked away and sighed.

“You should have kept him distracted until the heroes arrived,” Eraserhead said. You frowned.

“I tried that,” you said. “He was the one who brought a knife out.”

Eraserhead sighed. “The police will be here in five minutes, the paramedics in…” he looked up to the trainee.

“Ten,” he replied. He shrugged. “There’s traffic.”

“Right. I won’t make you repeat your story twice, so let’s wait until the police arrive.”

The goggles covered the direction his eyes were facing, so you couldn’t tell who he was addressing. You nodded anyway, slightly dizzy.

When the police arrived, they took the stranger into the car and a detective spoke with you. At some point you both had moved outside the store, though you were still lightheaded and wavered slightly with each step. 

“I’m Tsukauchi Naomasa,” he said. “Walk us through what happened.”

“I’m [Name],” you replied. “I was shopping, and this guy walked in. I didn’t notice anything until people started freaking out. Um, I just thought… I don’t know. Something was weird. I texted my friend to call the police or something… and I, uh, I stepped out in front of them. He mumbled something to himself, and I replied to it, and he was surprised that I could see him.”

“Do you know why you could see him?” the detective interrupted. His brow was furrowed.

“Oh, right,” you said. “My Quirk. It’s called Null. It prevents other Quirks like that one from working on me.” 

“Mm,” Tsukauchi said, face relaxing. “Continue.”

“He told me to move out of the way so he could take the money, I guess, and I, I didn’t.” You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight. I was just thinking I need to hold him off until somebody shows up. And he pulled out a knife, and I tackled him.” Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t say anything. “And he cut me, and I just started, uh… it sounds so stupid now that I’m admitting it,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Tsukauchi reassured. “We all do stupid things in high risk situations.”

“I just did anything I could to keep him down,” you said. “Biting and kicking and whatever. And then the heroes showed up, and—” you hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Eraserhead. You had a theory that his Quirk, trying to cancel yours, had created a feedback loop of sorts that led to the static and your passing out. But if that was true, wouldn’t he have felt the effects, too? “I properly realized I was still bleeding and then I passed out, I guess,” you finished lamely.

“Hmm,” the detective said, but was interrupted by a man hurrying over.

“I heard someone was injured?” he asked, and you raised your hand slightly. He stepped over to them and Tsukauchi walked away, murmuring something to Eraserhead. “This might feel a little uncomfortable,” the healer warned, placing a hand on your back. 

“Ah,” you said, realizing what he was going to do. “Your quirk… won’t work. Mine cancels it out.”

He frowned, slightly, and didn’t move his hand before he must have tried and failed to use his quirk. “Well… you’re already bandaged. Let me check.”

After a moment of adjusting the bandages and advising you to be careful, you push yourself to your feet. You glanced quickly over to Tsukauchi and Eraserhead, who seemed to be deep in conversation. “Have a good night.” 

You speed-walked away, until the trainee stepped in front of you. “You should wait,” he said, looking as tired as you felt. “Tsukauchi…”

You gestured at the darkening sky. “I have to be back before sundown. My mom will be worried.”

“I can drive you home,” Tsukauchi said, glancing over. “I need to talk with your parents.”

You swallowed a groan. Your mother would almost certainly – and probably rightfully – chew you out for walking directly into harm’s way like that. Unfortunately, taking the ride was probably the best idea. You agreed, and got into the car with the detective. You checked your phone, and the message you had sent just before stepping out from the shelves.

sunnydays > call cops [address] villain

lavendereyes > what??

lavendereyes > they’re on their way

lavendereyes > sun? you alr?

The texts had stopped after that. You typed another message quickly.

sunnydays > fine now. only got lightly stabbed

lavendereyes > you what???

sunnydays > im fiiiine i got patched me up whatever

lavendereyes > ok but other than that are yoi fine

sunnydays > yeah

sunnydays > in the cop car going home

lavendereyes > ok, message me when you get home

sunnydays > alright

You slid their phone back into your pocket and leaned against the window. Tsukauchi was quiet, only looking back at you in the mirror a few times.

“That was brave, you know,” he said suddenly, and you stiffened.

“Not really,” you said. “It was stupid to attack him like that.”

“‘Brave’ and ‘stupid’ aren’t mutually exclusive.”

You snorted. “Fair enough.”

The city rushed by. The sky darkened further. The car slowed and pulled into the driveway, and you ran a hand through your hair. 

Your mother opened the door and came hurrying down the steps, up to the car. Tsukauchi stepped out of the car and you followed soon after.

“What happened?” she asked. 

Tsukauchi explained quickly, and a small frown settled on your mother’s face. “Well, at least you’re alright,” she settled on, eventually. 

Tsukauchi bowed slightly to you and your mother, and you quickly bowed back. “You seem like a good kid,” he said to you. “Just try not to get stabbed again.” He smiled, before waving slightly and climbing in his car to leave.

You walked over and hugged your mother, sighing into her hold. “You are alright, right?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “Just… tired.”

“Let’s eat dinner, and then you can go to bed,” she said. You nodded, and you both went inside.

[greysweatercat]

yo i just got confirmation that i just got fired from my job cause I was too sick to respond to their messages. anyway, i still got bills to pay, so if anyone wants to pitch in for that, that'd be awesome.

subscirb • one-time

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[mojaves]

encountered the two bumbling idiots with their dog again

[lokh]

auhfhrhfhhgh having an idea but Knowing the character would never ever do it.

[robustcornhusk]

more complaining but easier for me to ignore/funnier:

toured a rental for slaw; it looked great! i really hope she gets it! not going to get my hopes up though! super cute and bright and well maintained upstairs (the kitchen even has a skylight!), and there's an attached garage and a pretty clean walk-out basement below, and the owner seems conscientious. that part wasn't a problem!

took a video of it to send to slaw, sent it, went about my day. a few hours later, unprompted, their parents started sending anxious texts about the basement, and then had a three-way call with us and slaw. "[slaw], you said you didn't want laundry in the basement!" "no, you didn't want me to have laundry in the basement."

[fappellmoan]

something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

[allthegothihopgirls]

i want to believe that the other batboys get so caught up in how damian NEVER acts like a normal child, that whenever they see him engaging in regular kid activities™ everyone is on high alert whilst trying to preserve the moment.

tim's with kon and they walk past jon's room to see him and damian playing toy cars? they start walking faster until they're a safe distance away, to stop in their tracks and share a mutual "what the fuck???"

jason and damian are arguing, something jason says strikes a nerve, and damian just stops and breaks the stoic act. jason has NO clue what to do with himself, because nothing he's ever said has gotten a non-violent reaction out of the kid.

dick's taking damian to the cinemas, and lets him pick what they watch. damian picks a kids movie, and doesn't make comments about it seeming 'childish' or 'boring', instead he looks genuinely interested. dick goes along with it but is really taken aback.

damian's patrolling with the other boys, and sustains a mild injury. everyone's used to him fixing himself up and never making a big deal out of it. they've seen him break bones and refuse medical attention, mainly because of how the league trained him. so when they get back to the batcave, and are all getting fixed up in the infirmary, everyone's shocked when damian, sitting to the side about to patch himself up, starts crying, because he's exhausted and hurt.

whenever the boys see damian asleep anywhere but his room, they make sure to tip-toe past and tell the others not to wake him. usually when this happens it's because he's been so exhausted, that he's sat down to watch a show, been playing with titus, or doing schoolwork, and he's just fallen asleep in the middle of it. afterwards, dick especially, makes sure that damian's sleeping enough, which is hard, because no one can tell that he's tired until he physically passes out.