#literally straight from the ground. from the places where it’s happening

[tokkiiibunny]

Chick Habit | Megumi Fushiguro

08: S. L. U. T

Warnings: Drugs (again), Threats, cheating(?)

Words: 2.3k

Mainlist

Oh, we're not down, I better pray

I want the high, I want the rush

Don't call it love, it's not enough

Everything is a mess, you're a mess and you have no idea how to fix things.

Megumi was furious, your date with Yuji had been a success and now he had to put up with them both acting like two lovebirds in their honeymoon, but his anger was only because he still hated you and wanted the worst for you, right?

On the other hand you knew that you should be happy, your date with Yuji was wonderful and he was wonderful, he was a sweet, gentlemanly, attentive, funny guy and who had never judged you, but... You just couldn't feel good and you knew that you were the problem because you didn't like Yuji that way and you still agreed to go out with him because well, a little love would never hurt but things were starting to get out of hand because he was more and more serious and you didn't want to ruin the friendship.

Although things between you and Megumi had been "fine" For a time where you thought you were friends you noticed how he seemed more and more distant to you, maybe it was no longer mean but sometimes you felt that he ignored you giving you a cold treatment even when nothing had happened for him to have that attitude.

During the breaks megumi was no longer with the three of you, sometimes you didn't know where he was, sometimes you saw him with a girl you didn't know. When you realized that there was something really bad going on was when he moved and now another classmate was sitting in his place and he was at the back of the classroom with another girl.

You didn't understand, you thought you were fine, it really seemed like you were fine two weeks ago but now he was like a stranger.

Yuji was at his football practice and Nobara was still in classes so you were alone in what had been your favorite place, that big tree on the edge of the forest.

You saw Megumi approach you and you probably would have been happy That he would talk to you again if it wasn't for the expression on his face, he looked annoyed, complete and pure anger. You looked with confusion at the figure of the man who was getting closer and closer to you, he came to you and he took you by the fabric of your sweater, made you get up from the ground and smashed you against the trunk of the tree, holding you with all his strength.

"wha-" You tried to say.

"I want you to stay away from Yuji, I'm not playing Yn."

"What are you talking about?"

"You heard me, Stay. Away. From. Yuji, I'm not going to say it again."

"You are not going to tell me what i have to do. I don't understand you, what are you doing this? You literally told me you were sorry about two weeks ago and now you're behaving like this" You were confused, you admired his expression for a moment, his eyes were completely dark, your gaze lowered until he noticed the small trace of white powder under his nose "Are you high?"

"It's not from your business, Yn, you are going to listened to me."

"no."

"Well, then maybe your new boyfriend will be happy to hear that you slept with his older brother." You felt a direct blow to the stomach, you had never told anyone that and you doubted that Megumi had contact with Sukuna.

"What? How did you know that?"

"Don't worry about it." He leaned into your ear, you felt his hot breath against your skin. "You're going to stay away."

You swallowed hard. "Why are you doing this?"

"My motives are none of your business."

"Of course they are." It infuriated you that he never set the record straight, everything was a mystery when it came to Megumi.

"Just listen to me and stay out of it, I don't want to see you with yuji again."

"Well I don't care what you want, I'm not going to stay away. Today I'm going to have a date with Yuji and it's going to be wonderful and you won't be able to do anything about it." You stood firm and determined, you were not going to let him get in your way, for a moment that felt eternal he remained silent staring at you and you felt the air becoming more and more tense.

His lips crashed into yours, he was kissing you and it was quite far from a soft kiss, it was rough, it was hard But you didn't refuse, you didn't stop him. You could feel all his anger, all his fury, it was hard to keep up with him but you and him fit into that mix of emotions.

Maybe you even kissed him back and got lost when you felt his hands on your waist and down your hips until they reached your butt.

In a moment of lucidity you pushed him off of you, somehow he seemed as confused as you, he probably hadn't even thought about it before doing it.

That night you went on your date with Yuji and as always he had been wonderful but your mind was still on the kiss. You could barely sleep, you felt guilty and had a reason to be, even though you and Yuji were not yet "official" he had made it clear that he was serious about this and you let his best friend kiss you.

Not only did you feel guilty you also felt stupid, Megumi had threatened you and still let him kiss you, every day you felt worse.

You and Megumi didn't speak again, it was like a silent deal where neither of you mentioned what happened. The more time you spent with Yuji the worse you felt, you couldn't help it but the anxiety was consuming you, you tried to convince yourself that it hadn't been so bad but you couldn't.

"Are you okay?" Yuji asked you as you walked hand in hand through the campus, he had noticed your lost look and the little participation you had had in the conversation, he had begun to notice it days ago but now it was more than clear. 

"Huh? Yes, of course."

"Sure?"

"Very sure." You tried to smile slightly.

"Well because tomorrow I want to invite you to dinner at Pearl Restaurant, do you want to go?" You couldn't help but feel nervous, that place was somewhat expensive and slightly out of Yuji's budget, it's not that he didn't take you to cute places he always would but Pearl was Fancy with capital letters, you didn't want to Anticipate you but you felt like it was the day when he would ask you to be boyfriend and girlfriend officially.

"Yes, that would be fantastic!" you said with a smile as big as you could force trying to contain the urge to cry, you thought that the one would get bored of you after a couple of dates but you were very wrong.

When you got home you followed your daily routine lately which consisted of lying in your bed and looking at the ceiling while reflecting on your life and all your mistakes.

You wanted to talk to someone but Choso was busy, Nobara was friends with yuji before yours, your parents were not someone you wanted to talk to about this and well your contact list was quite limited.

After thinking about it, you took your phone and sent a message to Megumi.

"Hey it's Yn, can you come? I really need something to relax in."

You didn't know if it would work and a part of you really wished he would ignore your message because you knew it was stupid what you were doing but you felt desperate, he responded by telling you that in 20 minutes he would be at your house. The nerves began to appear in the form of nausea, now you regretted it but it was too late.

You wondered what his attitude would be this time, three days before he had threatened you But you were trying to convince yourself that he had only behaved like that because he was high and not because he mean it.

As he said 20 minutes later he was standing there in front of your door, you opened it to him even with that feeling of nausea.

"You look terrible." was the first thing he said to you as he walked in.

"I feel terrible."

"Good because I have good news and bad news, I don't have PCP anymore but I brought cocaine and mj, we can use whatever you want to try." You were surprised by the normality with which he was talking about this, but you also didn't want to say anything that could upset him, you preferred this attitude.

You Both went upstairs to your room which was a mess but you didn't feel like cleaning up.

"Which one is better?"

"It depends on what you want."

"I just want to relax, Disconnecting from reality for a while." He sat on your bed dropping down, it was his third time at your house and he acted with complete familiarity.

"Have you ever smoked?"

"never."

"Okay then let's use coke." He take out a small white bag from his pocket and pour the white powder into your bedside table forming four lines with his Credit card.

"Is it safe?" you asked as you approached.

"Nothing is but you already made me come here, so there's no going back."

"What do I have to do?" You knelt in front of the table watching the lines curiously.

"Whatever you want, you can lick or snort it, it's probably easier if you eat it since you've never put anything up your nose." You nodded and ran your tongue over one of the lines, the numbing sensation was practically immediate, you swallowed and looked at him while he bent down and inhaled one of the lines. "Do you want to talk about what's wrong with you or...?"

"I think Yuji is going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow." You promised yourself you'd mention it Because yuji had been the reason for the last argument between you and Megumi but you talked without thinking, you needed to get it out of you. It was Evident as his expression immediately tightened And you regretted having spoken without thinking.

"And? You should be happy, isn't that what you want?"

"I'm not saying... Well- I don't know, it's confusing."

"Why would it be? Do you like him or not?"

"Yes, but not that way."

"Then you're just playing with him."

"I'm not, but I don't want to hurt him." You felt like you'd already gone a long way in agreeing to go out with him and you wanted to ruin things with him but you knew you were just making a mess.

"Or it's because do you like the attention he's giving you?" He grabbed your chin and forced you to lift your face and look at him, "You'd fall for anyone who gave you a little attention."

You frowned at his accusation "It's not true."

"It is, if you didn't want to hurt Yuji you would have made things clear to him from the beginning and you wouldn't be playing with him this way."

"I'm not playing with him, I really want to do things right but I still feel guilty."

"Why?"

"Because you kissed me."

"No, you feel guilty because you liked me kissing you."

"No, it's not true."

"It is." He leaned toward you, his face just inches from yours. "Tell me to stop and I'll do it." Silence flooded your bedroom you didn't say anything Your eyes fixed on his trying to replicate the same defiant attitude he had, he kissed you one more time but now it was much softer than the first time.

It was just a tiny, almost chaste kiss, one that felt as good as it felt wrong.

That night you managed to relax, feel good, forget about everything that was consuming you but the next day you woke up almost at noon feeling like shit.

At least now you hadn't had a black out but it's not that the physical and moral hangover has been better, you swore to yourself that you would never do it again even if you knew that promise wouldn't last. You tried not to think about megumi but it was impossible, your mind went to the kiss over and over again. You hated yourself.

You didn't get out of bed until you had to, took a bath, put on your cutest dress and did your makeup and went to the restaurant almost like it was something mechanical, emotionless but as soon as you arrived and saw Yuji sitting in his best clothes and playing with his fingers because of nerves you felt like vomiting and banging your head against the wall, you approached and he raised a smile lighting up his face and you tried to replicate that emotion without much success, you didn't know why lately you were having such a hard time acting.

He got up from his chair, put his arm around your waist and left a kiss on your cheek. "You look beautiful." You sat down and then he sat down in front of you. "The most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"Don't overdo it."

"I'm not, I'm serious, Yn."

"Well, you look great, really handsome." Yuji was an excellent guy, he had everything to be the perfect boyfriend and you knew you didn't deserve it.

You both had dinner, he was talking and you were practically silent barely participating in the conversation, you could tell how nervous he was and that only made you equally nervous, when he finished he paused and cleared his throat.

"Yn I know it might seem like a quick thing but I'm pretty sure with this, I'd really like to Formalize things with you." The more he talked the more you wanted to die, to disappear right then and there and never be seen again. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Notes Area:

>Comments, suggestions and feedback are welcome.

>Thanks for reading!

Taglist (open):

@soobinbunnie5 @anonymity-222 @hanakalovesbnha @starrysho @sylussss7 @Shortcakebbg @Szired @briezy04764

[bookinit02]

i really do think there’s a huge disconnect on here w/ people who have never used tiktok as to what it actually is and who actually uses it. the number of people i’ve seen call it a “teen dancing app” is actually insane. it has not been a teen dancing app since i was in high school, around 2016 - 2020. the main communities i saw on a daily basis were 1) black history/anti-racism educators, 2) high school & college teachers sharing in-classroom strategies and frustrations with the education system, 3) local/state political leaders giving real-time updates on behind-the-scenes government decisions, & 4) community activism & leadership. like tiktok is an adult platform. almost every person i interacted with was my age or older. and yes it completely depends on your fyp and how you interact with the app, yes there’s still teenagers and dance videos and literally anything else you can think of. but these communities of adults aren’t insubstantial at all, they have literally millions of interactions on a daily basis. there’s about a million other types of communities that i could name just off the top of my head, because the range of users was SO diverse and thriving. it’s a long-distance community tool, just like any other social media—and honestly much better than any other social media, because it relies primarily on the kindness of strangers. i saw at least 5-10 videos today of queer people in rural areas panicking because they don’t have any access to queer community on any other platform or in real life. and before i end this i do want to say i think tiktok is coming back, i think this is a highly orchestrated political move, etc., but i do know it won’t ever be exactly the same. people are panicking about free speech violations because tiktok was a place where people fucking SPEAK. i have never seen mass mobilization and communication in this same way for as long as i’ve been alive. it is the people’s app, not just a silly teenage thing. if you’re not on tiktok and never have been, please stop talking about it like you know anything at all😭

[gojosprettyprincess]

Hide n Fuck!!?

Synopsis - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi

Warning! - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

A/n - I’m so horny

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.

You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.

It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.

But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.

“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.

You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.

“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.

“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.

There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.

“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.

He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.

“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.

“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.

“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.

“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.

“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.

[earthtooz]

x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong. 

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.  

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.” 

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.” 

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind. 

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.” 

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!” 

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety. 

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else. 

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections. 

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader and Sanemi going from hating to marrying each other + meeting up with the Kamado family post infinity castle

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: Gosh, you hated that guy. Just the way the wind hashira talked to you pushed you over the edge far too often. Little did you know that you'll feel different about that hot-tempered man after everything is over, that you'll find yourself convincing your husband to meet the Kamado family...

Warnings: THIS IS SPOILER FREE Y'ALL, I wrote this without ANY spoilers in it, so none of the outcome is what actually happens in the manga like that (I actually aim for a spoiler-free blog so anime onlys don't have to worry, death of basically every other hashira, language, angst to fluff

Special thanks to cutie patootie @effetsecndaires for that super cute suggestion 🤍

„Me and that guy?“

„Yeah, there’s ain’t no way I’m working with that spoiled brat-„

„Who are you to call me spoiled, you prick-“

“Did you just call me prick you little-“

“Can you two just stop?”, Giyu mumbles under his breath, all pairs on eyes set on you and the wind hashira who is only inches away from your face by know.

God, how much you hate that guy. Since the first time you saw him beating up a bunch of innocent demon slayer to now where you literally feel his urge to slap you right into your face, you can’t stand him. Out of all skilled demon slayers, why does it have to be him? How did he even achieve the status of a pillar in the first place?

“Stay the hell out of it, Tomioka”, Sanemi barks at the water hashira in an instant.

“Stop acting like a jerk. Don’t you get that nobody will ever like you if you treat them like that!?”

“Not liking me? Look at you, (y/n). You’re a total loser.”

“Take that back right now!”

“That’s enough, stop already”, Gyomei finally speaks out.

Oh, you couldn’t care less about the stone hashira lifting himself off the ground or the thick tension that fills the air. Out of instinct, you yank towards, your fist aiming straight for his face. That little fucker will pay for every single insult, for every time he put you down-

“I said enough, (y/n).”

“Let go of me!”, you cry out when Gyomei catches you mid-air.

“You heard him, (y/n). Enough is enough”, Sanemi jeers at you with a slight grin.

Oh, how much you would have given to get teased by Sanemi Shinazugawa like that one last time. How desperately you wish you could turn back time to see all their faces again. When all of you arrived within the infinity castle, you knew you might not make it out alive, that some of your beloved friends will eventually never find their way out.

“Sanemi!”, you cried into the countless chambers around you, eyes aimlessly searching for the man your eyes locked with just seconds ago.

“(y/n)!”, he shouted from afar.

Where is he? Is he safe? What if you’ll never see him again? You swallowed hard, desperately trying to stop your dumb eyes from watering. What if…you’ll never see Sanemi again?

“Where are you?”

“Don’t you dare to die on me here!”, he yelled on top of his lungs.

Before eventually, he stopped replying.  Before you faced countless demons on your own, all at once.

You would have never imagined that those crazy eyes you hated so much since joining the chosen circle of hashira would be the ones you’ll see last before your lifeless body collapses onto the floor.

“No, you can’t leave me like that. Not you too, (y/n). Get yourself together and fight!”, he hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your body tightly.

“S…Sanemi?”

What a relief it was to fall asleep in his muscular arms.

And what a surprise it was to wake up with him by your side again.

“I’m so tired”, you mumbled before being able to even think straight.

Everything hurt. From your little toe to your shoulder, over your torso and your crushed leg. It feels like you just returned from a trip to hell.

“You’re awake.”

Don’t so familiar voice that suddenly sounds so soft and broken, that maniac orbs that suddenly turned…hurt. Is Sanemi Shinazugawa crying?

“Are you okay?”, you croaked.

What about the others? Are they safe? Did you make it? What about Muzan, the upper moons, Tanjiro and his sister? Your brain threatens to give him, a breathtaking wave of nausea close to hit you with full force.

“Dumbass, look at yourself first. Are you okay?”

Gently, he caressed your cheek with his bruised knuckles, forcing your heart to skip a beat. Is this really the Sanemi Shinazugawa you know and hate?

Hate?

You furrow your eyebrows. Did you really hate him those past few weeks when you sat together after training past after midnight? Did you really hate him when fighting against those demons, when he was all you were able to think about? When on earth did you start un-hating him?

“I’m fine…But…the others?”

Just the way he shakes his head in defeat is enough for you to know. You swallow hard. All the people you loved…Mitsuri who always braided your hair, Shinobu always stitched you up after another fight with Sanemi, Giyu who always scolded you for acting out like that. Tanjiro, Nezuko, Gyomei, Obanai, Muichiro…Are all of them gone?

Suddenly you fail to breathe. Your friends, your found-family.

Everything’s gone.

“Hey, don’t panic.”

Did they suffer? How many people were forced to die in that senseless war?

“Look at me, (y/n).”

You can’t catch your breath, shaky hands clinging onto Sanemi’s sleeve for what feels like dear life.

“(y/n).”

He grabs your face with both of his hands. And all of the sudden, everything around you starts to get calm.

“It will be alright. Not today, not even tomorrow or next week. But we’ll get through this together.”

“I hate you”, you breathe out while getting lost in the new-found peace his eyes radiate.

“I hate you too”, he mumbles.

Why do his lips suddenly look so inviting, roaming closer and closer? Why do you enjoy the way he holds your face in place with his rough hands, how he stares at you in distress?

But there’s something apart from distress, a new-found feeling you’ve never seen before.

“More than anything else”, you add.

“Absolutely, yes.”

And then his lips crash into yours. Longingly, almost desperate Sanemi Shinazugawa kisses you with every fiber of his being, allows his body to finally give him. He never allowed himself a single positive thought when it came to you, always hated every minor thing you did. Until the infinity castle made him realize what he truly feels for you, that he needs to catch a taste of your forward lips before it is too late.

That was exactly one year ago.

“What’s on your mind again?”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair while staring into the sunset and holding you tight.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how much you hated me back then”, you chuckle.

What a relief it is. Being able to watch the sunset without fearing the night. Being able so live another day with your husband by your side.

Your husband, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

“I wonder what they would think, seeing us like that”, Sanemi comments dryly.

“Oh, they wouldn’t believe us.”

“Absolutely not, nah.”

“But I bet they’d be proud, right? I’m sure it’s fine that we’re doing okay…”

“You’re talking nonsense again, (y/n). Why would they ever be mad at us for living our lives?”

“Because they couldn’t.”

You swallow the lump that forms itself deep in your throat down. Not a single day went by without you thinking about your comrades. How they always had to keep the two of you separated, how much fun you’ve had despite the circumstances.

But now, there’s only you and Sanemi left. And Tanjiro Kamado.

“I think we should pay the Kamado family a visit”, you add before thinking about it any further.

To this day, Sanemi refused to meet up with Tanjiro and his sister. Maybe because he still hates the boy with the scar, maybe because seeing Tanjiro means being confronted with his past all over again. Over and over, you begged him to go, to make sure both of them are doing alright.

“Didn’t I say no 100 times already?”, Sanemi grumbles behind you.

“Well, you said you hate me at least 100 times as well and still, I’m here”, you bite back.

Sanemi shifts his weight, his muscles tense behind your back. You know too well that this isn’t easy for him, that seeing Tanjiro means getting confronted with a part of his past he’s so eager to forget. But the Kamado family never gave up their hope, always keeps their doors open if Sanemi does decide on meeting them someday.

“That’s not the same, idiot.”

“Sanemi.”

You turn around and cup his face gently with both hands.

“Maybe you should pay him a visit. We didn’t see him in a long time.”

“Why would I care though? It’s not like I liked that kid at one point”, he barks back at you.

You let out your breath. Despite the fact that infinity castle made both of you softer, Sanemi still didn’t lose his stubbornness and attitude. Well, so did you.

“You wanna act like an asshole? Go ahead, then. I’ll leave tomorrow morning, with or without you.”

Without another word, you get up and make your way back into the house. How frustrating living with him can be. But still…The past is scarry, maybe even too much too bear. After today, you won’t speak up about visiting the Kamado family again.

-the next day-

“Nezuko!”

She doesn’t hear you. The girl with the wavy black hair tied into a knot, her tender eyes focused on the garden in front of her feet. How breathtakingly gorgeous she is, a true beauty just like back then.

“Nezuko!”, you cry out again, waving at her like an idiot.

Back then, she saved your life by almost sacrificing her own. Even though you weren’t as kind as the other hashiras, the Kamado family always stood by your side and believed in you. Seeing her so unbothered and happy forces a wave of tears up your eyes, makes your vision go foggy.

Thanks to your comrades, all of this is over now.

“(y/n)!”, the girl finally greets you while mindlessly dropping her sickle and dashing towards you.

“(y/n), is it really you? I can’t believe it!”, Nezuko breathes out.

“Yeah, the original”, you giggle.

She still wears the same patterns she did back then. But her eyes, they look so different. Nezuko really is fully human again. You can’t stop a single tear rolling down your eyes. And all of this, only due to the sacrifice of your friends.

“No, don’t you cry, (y/n)! Not when both of us should be happy”, Nezuko croaks out, a thin coat of tears now covering her very own eyes.

“Those are happy tears. I’m so sorry for not visiting you sooner, it’s just…”

Yes, what is it? Did you hesitate because Sanemi wasn’t ready, because he refused over and over to accompany you? No, you yourself needed that time to heal, to get over all the terror and suffering you’ve been through.

“You don’t have to apologize at all. After all, Tanjiro and I needed some time to adjust to this new life as well. Do you mind me asking how Shinazugawa-sama is?”

“Sanemi? He’s doing okay. But he isn’t ready yet…”

“Of course, I get that! But there’s no need to rush, right? After all, we now have plenty of time left”, Nezuko replies with that oh so gentle grin plastered onto her face.

“(y/n), is that you?”

Your heart skips a beat. Oh, you’d recognize that voice from everywhere with its unwavering optimism and tender undertones.

“Long time no see, Kamado Tanjiro.”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself embraced into a tight hug, surrounded by nothing but the signature ichimatsu pattern that burned itself into your brain.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry for casually hugging you like this, (y/n)-sama!”, he adds in a haste, quickly letting go of you and bowing.

“I’m not a hashira anymore, Tanjiro. And both of us are equal. Well, now that I think of it, I should be the one who bows in front of you”, you contradict jokingly.

“It’s so nice to finally see you again! How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Sanemi and I, we worked quite hard to renovate his estate after what happened. These past few months, we enjoyed watching the sunsets for the very first time in ages”, you explain briefly.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that the two of you married. It makes me beyond happy you found your luck, (y/n).”

“Don’t you dare making my wife cry, brat.”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat instantly picking up. You’d recognize that voice out of a thousand people. When you turn around, you get greeted by the annoyed expression of none other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Did he follow you? When did he decide on meeting the Kamado’s? You’ve been bugging him for ages, almost begging him to pay Tanjiro and Nezuko a visit.

And now he stands there, arms casually crossed in front of his chest.

“Shinazugawa-sama, what a honor-“

“Spare me with that bullshit”, Sanemi interrupts the boy immediately.

“Just tell me how you’re doing.”

Oh. Your eyes threaten to overfill with joy all over again, Sanemi’s arm now wrapped around your waist tightly. Just 2 years ago, you didn’t even think about the possibility to even like Sanemi, to look after the Kamado’s.

But this is your life now. Your oh so sweet life.

“You might have been right. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all”, Sanemi whispers into your ear.

“So, does that mean you finally don’t hate me anymore.”

“That’s a bit out of line, Kamado. You’re still a brat, after all.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[star-girl69]

In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

[dadsbongos]

dog and rabbit

9.5 k words / summary - When your party is locked into a stuck trap, you and Laios are the only ones who can bare each other. You both want to be consumed, one literally, and know that only the other can fulfill your desire.

warnings - reader with she/her pronouns, cannibalism as a metaphor for love/cannibalistic thoughts and imagery, fully romantic but no upfront confession, allusions to spoilers but everyone should be safe to read, reader has ego issues and parental issues, laios and reader are both FREAKS, starvation as a plot device

~~~

pt 1 - dog eat rabbit

Mama’s hands are crusted with drying mud, dirt flakes up her bare arms as she smooths a lumpy plot. She’s knelt down, across from her is Papa, and beside Papa is his dog -- tail wagging and mouth dangling open to pant, pant, pant. Between them all is the small rectangular grave Mama just finished pampering. A thin stick sits up straight from the head of the filled hole. You stand at the other end, staring at Papa’s dog with ambivalence.

You wanted to sanitize her vibrant scratches and swelling bite marks, and you wanted her scrapes to get infected. You hoped she would recover to her yippy self soon, and you prayed the mounting limp from her front right paw was permanent. You’d be devastated if she died of her injuries, and you’d find the death to be just.

She’s terrible.

You mock up a world where she was the one eaten instead.

She’s your sole best friend now.

You hope she’s full, no longer at risk of starving to illness.

“Sit, girl,” Papa beckons, a calloused, wrinkled finger directed towards the gaping spot by your mother’s side, “Be respectful. You wanted this memorial, now be part of it.”

“I didn’t want- !“

As if sensing your following words, Mama hisses a sharp shush, then pats the ground beside her. Papa raises a brow at you, testing. Sunlight burns your back, and you spontaneously decide the shaded spot by your mother is more appealing (entirely unrelated to your parents’ demands).

Now, you are face to face with your new best friend because she is your real best friend’s murderer. You hate her. You love her. You want her to feel every shred and tear and pierce she inflicted upon your bunny.

“Darling,” Mama coos, fingers dancing up your shoulder and through your hair, uncaring for how she ruins the strands, “be realistic. A simple marsh rabbit was never going to survive out here.”

“He followed the river out for a reason,” you murmur, now looking down from the big, remorseful, wet eyes of Papa’s dog, “We were meant to be best friends.”

“You’re not a baby anymore,” Papa snaps, rising onto his feet, he glares at you. He glares at you with deep lines retracing their places in his forehead, and his hands clench so hard they shake, until they suddenly go lax. He waves both hands out, shaking them free of all tension as he sighs and turns and prattles down towards the ocean.

His dog follows, slower than she used to with a pause and caution fresh to her gait, licking his hand as he pulls free his fishing pole from the sand. Mama pats down your back and mutters apologies.

You rise shortly after and whistle the dog back into your small shelter, knowing how her wounds will burn should she follow your father into the lapping sea water. She licks your face and you pet around the open scratches from this morning.

You dream that night of what would happen if you let her wander into the ocean.

You wake up with an incredible sense of guilt.

…

“I’m so tired,” Marcille dregs her weight onto your back, causing you to stumble under the sudden hefty addition, “We should stop soon!”

“Agreed,” Chilchuck huffs, stretching his arms out in front of him.

“How about you?” Laois coils at the waist to glance back at you, brows raised high, “Packs wearing you down?”

“No!” you howl defensively, hands wriggling deeper into the leather of Chilchuck’s waterskin when Marcille moans in protest to your denial, “But! If everyone is tired then we should settle down, probably. I think.”

“I think so, too,” Laios nods, deferring to Senshi -- the pair murmuring about which of the dark archways lining the dungeon hall leads to a safe rest stop.

Your party finally piles into an off-room, Marcille still slouched against your back to send you both careening towards the far left end of the cellar.

“Hmm,” Chilchuck points up towards a series of holes in the cobbled archway, “It looks like this room’s rigged to lock us inside. So be careful to not step on this tile, it’ll activate the- !”

Senshi grunts over the sudden sinking in his left side, foot slid over the edge of the stone Chilchuck’s index finger is aimed at, “Whoops.”

A scream escapes the half-foot, Chilchuck narrowly rolling out of the way of downcoming spears. Pointed ends stab towards the cobblestone floor, tips scraping rock, effectively trapping your lot into the cellar.

“Eek!” you scream, both hands pawing at Laios’ arm, “We’re gonna die in here!”

“Shut up, we’re not gonna die in here,” Chilchuck groaned, rising to his knee to inspect the lock attached to the middlemost bar, “I’ll get it open in the morning. If anything, it might help keep us secured overnight, so I can’t be mad.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” you ask, Marcille nodding in backup to your question.

“It’s a pretty simple lock, so it shouldn’t cause me too much grief in the morning.”

Laios nods, stepping back carefully to avoid jangling you off his arm as he sets out his sleeping bag. You stand over him now, hands splayed gently across his back as he flattens his mat, “If you’re gonna stay by me, could you help me get my armor off?”

If anyone except Laios were to ask, you’d probably take offense to the wording -- but it was Laios, and you know Laios well enough to know he’d never want to hurt your feelings.

So you nod, despite the fact he cannot see you, “Of course!”

Neither you or Laios is certain when physical contact became so normal between you, only that now it's strange for Laios to remove his heavy plating without you. So he tries to suck up every opportunity he can now, requesting your assistance whenever the party stocks into a room with a door to keep out ambushers.

“Hey,” Marcille beckons from across the room, already having set out both your mats, “I thought you’d be by me tonight.”

“I will be! Just… helping…” you return focus to Laios, giddily undoing the leather straps of your leader’s grieves before rushing off his pauldrons.

“Thanks again,” he works off the clasps on his arms, slinking free from each piece with a noisy series of clunks and thuds.

“I love helping,” you rationalize quickly, face alight with glee as you wait for Laios to set aside his gorget. Once given a go-ahead nod, you eagerly grasp the lip of his cuirass by the waist and tip upwards. While you’re not lying about your natural proclivity to be helpful, you’re also not terribly against feeling the broadness of Laios’ body up close.

You blame it on admiration.

You admire how he can move so smoothly in such heavy pieces. You admire how despite the both of you being tall-men, he’s managed to occupy the stature to a fuller extent than you. He’s not just big because of his race, but he’s got real discipline to continuously train and hone his combat skills. His muscles are as aesthetically pleasing as they are a sign of his dedication.

In a weird way, you think every monster to be eaten by him should be honored.

Ironically, that night you dream of the party’s first encounter with monsters you couldn’t eat: Orcs.

…

“First ones to die are the ones with the weapons!”

“Aah!” you shriek, immediately releasing your daggers so the blades crash by your knees with a faint tink, tink, tink, “I’m unarmed! Please don’t kill me!”

“Have a backbone!” Chilchuck shouts at you, though beads of sweat are pouring down his face as well.

“I don’t wanna die, Chilchuck!” you cry, sniffling.

“I don’t either, you know?” he hisses in your ear.

Your eyes are too clogged by waterworks to make out the following dispute between Senshi and the Orcs. Now hugging a pair of onions to your chest for support rather than your teensy needlepoint daggers.

“Them veggies be something you grew, I guess?” despite the lilt in his tone, you don’t take the Orc Chief’s tone as a question, “We’re on a supply run lookin’ for food. ‘Preciate if you’d share them with us.”

“Sure, be happy to. What you got to trade for them?” Senshi must be crazy to expect a trade with big, hungry Orcs with big, shiny weapons surrounding you all.

“No trade. Tribe’s desperate, we barely got up to this floor alive. You’ve been a good friend and I hate to do this, but… hand over everything you got. Right now.”

You fumble the onions between your arms, then shirking off the carrots tangled in your bag’s side pockets. Senshi glares at you through his peripherals, grumbling quietly for you to pick the crops back up before returning to his parley with the Orcs.

Unfortunately, your obvious compliance earns you no favor compared to your comrades.

“Coward,” Marcille thunks her head against the cabbage in her hands, “Coward!”

“I was scared!” you wish you had your forfeited onions back, even if only to provide something to cling to. The space between your arms feels so glaringly empty it makes your racing heart swerve to overdrive.

“Everyone was!” Chilchuck glares up at you, then toward Senshi, “Except that idiot.”

“Be nice,” you knot your fingers together, only to watch them unravel again as your group is herded towards the Orcs’ makeshift camp. Then, you look to Senshi for backup, “Besides, they were getting thrown out if we couldn’t trade, right? What’s the harm?”

Senshi shakes his head at you disapprovingly, and it oddly cuts deeper than when your father would do the same, “You need to stand your ground, that’s the difference.”

“Don’t antagonize her,” Laios jumps in, voice level in spite of the agitated pinch in his brow, “You all know she hates pain.”

“Who doesn’t, dumbass?!” Chilchuck grits, quickly hushing himself, “None of us want to suffer.”

With admittedly no comeback, even with all your prayers that he’d clunk one together, Laios shrugs, and -- as if sensing your dilemma -- sticks out his bicep for you to hug to your chest.

…

You woke up feeling despondent, gloomily rolling up your area and preparing for the day’s adventure while Senshi made breakfast. And as much as you wish Laios’ curiosity could inspire any excitement within yourself to try the lumpy larvae porridge from cellar-dwelling insects, you’re really not craving any.

“Hey!” but there the blonde is, calling to you and restlessly patting the floor beside him, “Come on, it’s almost ready!”

With weak, frizzly resolve, you conceded in an instant. Just as instantly, you regret it.

Faint, tangy iron clings to the gum of your mouth. A sourness washing over your palette soon after. Your lips press tightly before your tongue lolls out and you’re scraping the harsh edge of your spoon down your flesh, “Blehhh…!”

“Seriously?” Chilchuck sighs, though not withholding his own scrunched face, “You’re acting like a kid.”

“It’s gross!” you whine, bowl clattering between your legs, “It hurts my mouth!”

“Really?” Laios leans in from your left, his chest, while still unguarded, crushes against your shoulder, pointing down into your bowl with his own spoon, “Mind if I have yours?”

“Be my guest,” you slide the bowl his way, then squishing the tip of your tongue into your top gums, “I think it burnt a dent in my mouth.”

Chilchuck groans this time, loud and abrasive, eyes narrowed at you, “It’s not even that bad.”

“You’ve been brainwashed! Monster guts are monster guts, and this time their stomach acid burned my mouth!” you look to your right, at the elf contently munching on Senshi’s cooking, “Right, Marcille?!”

(Senshi’s rebuttal of, “Ain’t no guts in this.” goes unnoticed)

“Hm?” she withers under your pointed stare, shoulders shriveling towards her chest, “I mean, yeah, it is weird…” then she lifts her bowl level to her face, dodging your gaze, “But I don’t think it's burned my mouth.”

“Maybe I’m allergic,” you drivel, focus flitting to Laios’s hands as he grabs your serving to dig in -- even licking the excess off your abandoned utensil, “If I’m allergic I might die…”

“Or you’re just crazy,” Chilchuck intervenes.

“Be nice to me!” you cry, raising a fist as if to strike the man over your fire. You’d never, you don’t have the courage.

Laios nods, “Be nice.”

“You’ll be hungry later,” Senshi chastises, “Eating is the privilege of the living. You’re squanderin’ it.”

“We’ll have lunch later,” you curl your knees to your chest, binding them with both arms tight around your thighs, “I can wait.”

“Who says we’ll find anything worth eating?” you doubt Chilchuck cares about either your stomach or Senshi’s cooking, you instead boldly assume he just wants to keep lecturing you.

“We will!” you lay your head against Laios’ shoulder, peeking up at the man through your lashes, “Right, Laios? We’ll find food again today.”

“I mean, yeah,” he blinks down at you cluelessly, “Deeper we go down, the more we’re bound to find!”

“See! We’ll find food!”

“It’s too early to be fighting…” Marcille frowns, eyes flicking from you to Chilchuck, and back to you.

Chilchuck retires his own bowl and grossly wipes his mouth off with his arm before scooching to the door, waving off whatever retort could follow.

Senshi takes both yours and Laios’ bowls once both are emptied before turning to you, “You may want to dig into the spare snacks in your bag anyway. Ain’t good to start the day on an empty stomach.”

His sudden warmth inspires a molten ooze in your own chest, you shyly nod before muttering, “Sorry for calling your cooking gross… it isn’t, actually. I liked- !”

“Larvae pods can’t be for everyone,” he cuts you off with a speedy recovery, “More for the people that do enjoy it.”

“Thanks for sharing!” Laios claps your back, trying to be friendly and only rattling your balance.

Senshi and Laios begin packing up as you spindle onto your hands and knees to crawl the couple of paces towards your bag. Creeping a hand under the flap to dig for treats, your whole body spiking with goosebumps and raised hairs when you distinctly miss any indentation of rations in your palm. You prattle forward another two knees-worth and unlatch the golden clasp to dig through your bag.

“Oh, no…” you mutter, movements growing more agitated the longer you go without finding food, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

“You okay?”

You jump back, clenching both hands over your heart and nodding rapidly, “Yeah, fine! No worries here, Laios!”

“Sounds good!” he backs away to continue assisting Senshi.

“No!” suddenly, Chilchuck’s voice stabs through the room, “No, no, no, no, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Marcille rushes over, clutching Ambrosia between unsteady palms.

Thankfully the party’s attention pivots to the screaming lockpick and you get the grace of pretending there’s absolutely more food left for your group. No problems here!

“It’s jammed!” Chilchuck wrangles the silver bars, then latching onto the boxy lock itself as if to choke all life from the metal, “How am I supposed to pick a lock if the lock isn’t sufficient quality?!”

Or, apparently, you cannot pretend. At least not for long because a problem arose on the opposite side of the cell.

“You can get us out though, right?” Marcille’s grip on Ambrosia loosens, even calm enough to lay the staff against a wall.

“Of course, I can. Who do I look like?” Chilchuck scoffs.

Silently, you beseech Chilchuck’s expertise surpasses this lock’s apparent lack thereof.

“So, how’s the door?”

.

.

.

“Still not open!”

“I thought you were a specialist on these things, Chilchuck.”

All fiddling and knocking ceases in an instant, Chilchuck now staring dead-eyed at Laios for his unwelcomed quip.

“So scary,” Laios whispers beneath his breath, then turning towards you with a subtle downturn of his lips, “What’d I do?”

Hugging yours and Chilchuck’s bags closer to your chest with a stilted shrug, you reply, “I guess he didn’t appreciate the input.”

“I thought- “

Chilchuck’s icy stare kills your leader’s words in his throat.

“Well, we still have leftovers, so we aren’t in trouble of starving for awhile,” you fabricate, digging a hand through your bag to aid your illusion of ease, “When we do run out, I have a plan! So don’t worry about going hungry.”

“Hm?” Laios quirks a brow at your uneven grin.

Before he can prod for more direction, Marcille’s popping back and relieved groan creak through the room. She arches up from her recline on the ground, gold tresses fluttering out around her head. With more huffing and moaning, she flips onto her stomach and stablizing onto her elbows to stare at Chilchuck’s twiddling. Poking and striking various chords and rods within the lock’s bottom hole, you can hear Chilchuck’s frustrated swears in both common and native tongue (though the longer he goes without success, the more obscure and foreign his curses sound).

You’d hate to see Chilchuck face more defeat than he’s already bore. Few hours have passed since waking to find yourselves locked in the dungeon cellar. Chilchuck will soon be considering blood sacrifices made from all four of you, you fear.

“You know, it’s been awhile since I could wash my hair… would be nice if we were out so I could take care of that,” Marcille grins, already knowing the response she’ll pull talking like that.

“Marci, be quiet…!” you whine anxiously, eyes narrowing on Chilchuck’s back.

The man slowly turns his head to narrow his eyes at Marcille, “Huh?” she shrugs coyly, curling a finger into framing strands of her long hair, Chilchuck laughs. Rage thinly veiled by (obviously forced) lightheartedness, “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Guys!” you wail, “Please!”

Senshi sighs through his nose, murmuring about kids bickering as he polishes the knife you only see used for cooking.

Tense silence descends upon your group once again.

Turning to the blonde at your side, you murmur, “I’m more worried about how to keep from getting bored. I feel like boredom is when everyone starts hating each other…”

Laios straightens up at your concern, twisting noisily through his personal bag to drag out a leather bound journal, “I could show you my notes about monsters! They’re pretty long so it’ll take awhile, perfect way to kill time while Chil’ gets us out!”

Nodding, you lean into his side, watching intently as he recites each tidbit and offbeat scribble as if by heart. You notice that none of the writing is as softened by print or recognizable as what’s scrawled in his guide on edible monsters. You don’t think this book has been exposed to the party yet, and that thought is patently delightful. That you are so dependable to Laios he’s willing to show off something born from his raw passion.

“It was something I teased when I was by myself,” he confesses, cheeks glowing rosy at the vulnerability of it all, “When I started wondering about the integrity of the Gourmet Guide, it inspired me to make a real guide. So, even though I’m sad the author probably never ate the monsters they wrote about, I can still honor the passion it gave me.”

“Wow,” you turn onto your hip and cradle his arm against yours. Perhaps overly casually, you sling a leg over one of his and rest your head against his shoulder, his chill shirt icing the heat on your own cheek (his simmering skin beneath quickly reheats it), “You’re really cool, Laios.”

Marcille’s side-eye goes unacknowledged when you say that.

“Seriously?” you’re easily distracted from everyone else when Laios is grinning so brightly at you, “You think so?”

“Mhm!”

“You’re really cool, too,” he wishes he could say more, but your pretty face so close to his is strangling his bravery.

That night, you have the strangest dream.

…

A lion of gold fur and pearly wings looms over you, globs of His drool hanging and dribbling onto your forehead. Temptation to reach up and comb your fingers through His mane rushes through you -- but you cannot move. Limbs bogged by a weight unseen, and then there is a dog.

Big black eyes pour down on you, front paws plastered at each side of your waist to hold himself up. Pointed teeth peek through its panting snout -- bloodthirsty growls verberating low through its body. You blink and the dog is different. Yipping like a friend, tail wagging at the sight of you, it licks your cheek. You blink and the dog is gone, replaced with a fellow tall-man. Armor removed and shirt hanging low, you can make out his collarbones and the dip down towards his chest -- if you dare to stare straight down then you could make out the handles of his hips.

Blood stains the seams between his teeth, chin glistening with crimson gush. Faintly, you can make out the sensation of lips puckered around your fingers; sucking and nibbling at your nail beds. Chilchuck, Marcille, Senshi. They all seem so at ease, faces completely lax similar to those of nursing kittens.

Laios’ lips press into your neck, hot and cold clashing when he introduces teeth. You can’t even feel the pain as he digs in -- instead, you feel just as calm as your friends look.

You feel serene.

Marcille snaps a finger bone like it's a carrot between her molars. Chilchuck and Senshi lave the spilling blood from her cheeks. They can’t get enough of you. Laios burrows his arms beneath your waist, pressing your body closer into his as he desperately tongues your flesh down his throat.

Hungrily and contently, they swallow you down. Every morsel.

You feel most loved.

…

You woke up feeling grateful.

Chilchuck has not yet gotten your party free. As the day progresses, you feel that gratitude leaking over the floor. It curdles in the open air and soaks into the bottom of Marcille and Laios’ shoes as they ask you to unlock your food pouch.

Cheerful, expectant faces haunt you from above. Marcille, of course, has nothing but patience for you, but the killer is Laios. Obviously. Laios, who so, so fervently and imperatively trusts you so, so wholeheartedly is your biggest problem in this fiasco. He always looks at you like you could never do anything wrong, and you’ve never hated it until now.

Wide, twinkly amber eyes drill into you, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had to dig into the rations, I don’t even remember what’s all in there.”

Marcille nods in agreement, excitement at the prospect of eating obvious in the drool pooling in the corners of her mouth, “Right? It’ll be nice to have something non-monster related, at least.”

“You think so?” Laios pouts, “I thought you were warming up to eating monsters.”

“It's still not my first choice!”

In the midst of their spat, your attention is split between trying to conjure a plausible reason to deny them; and manifesting a destiny where they forgot why they approached you.

By the time Marcille’s tummy croaks through the cramped room, neither has come to fruition. She cups the pouch of her stomach, embarrassed at its echoing rumble.

“Jeez, thought I was hungry…” Chilchuck teases from his post at the door.

“Hey! That was a totally reasonable sound for how long it's been since we ate. And who’s to say that was even me? It could’ve been Laios!”

“It wasn’t,” Senshi adds.

“Definitely wasn’t,” Chilchuck’s sly grin cracks upon the sound of his own gut joining the conversation.

“Ha!” Marcille’s joy is usually able to cleanse your dreary moods, but usually you’re not keeping such a destructive secret.

Usually, you don’t freeze yourself in place like it’ll prevent your party from noticing you’re still alive -- all to avoid them asking the same question from minutes ago,

“So, can you open up the food pack?”

You are not so lucky.

Laios has asked you again.

Rare is it for you to refuse him, because rarer it is for him to ask something outrageous or impossible (or impossibly outrageous) of you. This is the one in a billion chance that you must turn him down. But how can you when he’s looking at you so kindly?

A frazzled, puny No trapped in the back of your desiccate throat when suddenly Senshi says it for you.

“Best to save our rations so we can eat right before we leave.”

Senshi’s trust in you makes you somehow more nauseous. Marcille’s downtrodden agreement makes that stacked nausea triple. Laios curling up beside you to keep you company makes you so electrified you’re certain to be hiccuping bile soon.

(you don’t end up puking, thankfully)

That night, you dreamt of the time you and Laios met.

…

He’s really beautiful, it's the first thing you notice about him. Too beautiful to be a dungeon crawler, Laios’ face is more befitting of royalty. To be praised and swooned over and kissed.

“It’ll be less pay than, well, our swordsman or mage.”

You think his thoughtfulness makes him more beautiful.

Strangely, you feel the need to comfort him. Overcompensate the mediocrity of such a position simply so he doesn’t feel guilty hiring you (because in the back of your head is the fear that if he feels guilty, he simply won’t take you on).

“That’s fine! I don’t mind at all, as long as I get any money I couldn’t care less.”

You just want a house. You just don’t want to suffer.

“Alright, then, looks like we have a carrier,” Laios looked to Falin, the girl nodding with a cheery smile.

You just want to be as close to the beautiful, shining, gnashing sun as possible.

…

You woke up feeling thirsty.

You’d twisted over to dig out your watersack when you found that your entire pack was missing. Ice spilled across your entire body at the sight, a swelling, obnoxious anxiety aching through your nervous system. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you could hear the blood pumping through your ears.

Slowly, your head swivels around the room, until you find your pack in the arms of another -- who is now settled across the room rather than beside you.

Peculiarly close to Senshi’s pseudo-camp, Marcille is scratching your bag tightly to her chest.

“Marci,” you call, dredging the boys’ curiosity towards you. You don’t know if she’s taken the liberty of looking inside, “Give that back…”

She does not, merely hugging the leather tighter. Such desperation clues you that she’s most likely just as oblivious about the bag’s contents as everyone else is. Her stomach rumbles loudly, you swallow dryly and wet your lips to beg.

“Marci, please!”

The elf hisses back, not unlike a pestered kitty, and clutches your pack tighter to her chest. She glares through her lashes, kicking her legs out when Laios reaches to take your bag back.

Senshi shakes his head and rises from his own spot in the corner. Marcille’s gaze hones in on the dwarf instantly, and she whirls around to face the wall -- now caging your bag to her chest.

“Marci,” you retry weakly, “please, hoarding isn’t- !”

She silences you with another shortburst glare over her shoulder, “Who said I was hoarding?” she ‘hmph’s and shakes her head, “How do I know you won’t just eat it all as soon as I’m not looking?! Huh?! You’ve gone the longest without food after all!”

You gasp at the accusation, then sparing a glance up at Laios to see if he’s buying her tale, “How could you say that? I always share! It’s everyone’s food!”

“Marcille,” Senshi commands cooly, standing at your side, “you should know that isn’t like her. We all share our food so nobody goes hungry. To intentionally starve others is just cruel.”

“Exactly!” you plea, shakily reaching out only to yank your hands back to your chest when she snaps at your fingers with full teeth, “Just give it back, please?!”

Laios frowns, visibly uncertain how to bring you and Marcille back to the giddy lounging gals you were mere days ago, “Marcille, you two are friends -- if you know she’s never stolen before, why would she start now?”

Marcille sharply redirects her stare into the corner, shrugging and clutching the pouch tighter.

Chilchuck bangs his forehead into the door, “Children.”

“Marcille…” you whimper, hot in the face and barely believing you’re even telling the truth right now. You’re delirious with dehydration and hunger and skepticism that you’re being honest, making it hard to see straight. Elf and tall-man faces blur together, Senshi is blotted out by the black dots in the corners of your vision, and Chilchuck is a mere speck. Far, far away. You feel far, far away. Like you could die, like you’re dreaming, and oh as the words come out of your mouth you’re actually hoping that you are dreaming, “it’s empty.”

Every head snaps to you. All dizziness snaps into hyperawareness. At minimum it's two degrees colder than it used to be, you can hear the sound of your own breathing, and the smell of mold rots away every other scent in the room.

You shrink into yourself and barely scrounge the courage to keep from curling into a rocking ball of apologies. Your disbelief doubles when you realize you’re still looking Marcille in the face -- eye to devastated eye.

“It’s empty?”

“It’s empty…”

Senshi steps back from your side, you want to dig your nails into his ankles and drag him back. You don’t. Laios retreats as well and you selfishly wish he’d just pierce you with his sword, if only to end this humiliation and regret. Now that everyone’s staring at you, you realize you probably should’ve said something from the start.

“I thought maybe Chilchuck would’ve gotten us out by now… I didn’t think we’d still be here…” you try to reason.

The harsh clatter and clang of Chilchuck’s picks against the ground draws your attention, he’s got both hands knotted into fists. His face drawn in a slant, as if he’s silently asking you to repeat yourself. As if he didn’t quite catch that.

“Then it's my fault?” he swiftly dodges the arm Senshi puts out as a blockade, now in your face and far more threatening than usual, “You’re saying it’s my fault your pack is empty?”

“No! Just- !”

“So why even mention that?!” he huffs, “Why even say my name?”

“I just thought that once we were out we’d find more food and then it wouldn’t be a problem!”

“So you still wanted to lie to us?”

“I never said that! You’re putting words in my mouth! Stop putting words in my mouth!”

“Your plan was to intentionally hide the truth -- that’s lying!”

“No! It’s just hiding!”

Chilchuck screams, raw with frustration and unbridled by cumbersome words. He covers his face with both hands as if he’s in pain just to look upon you.

“I’m sorry!” you plea, now turning to Laios with weak sobs bubbling right beneath your skin. Your face feels as though it's been scorched with dragon’s fire, though your eyes are flooded wet, “I just didn’t want everyone to be scared. I would’ve told you once we were out! Promise!”

Laios always liked being close to you the best, including Falin. In the wake of her disappearance, his inclination towards your presence has only magnified. You engage his interest in monsters, you’re forward and blatant with your compassion, and your skin on his is always so soothing. Laios doesn’t guess if you’re genuine, he knows you are. He imagines that’s why when you touch him it’s so warm and calming whereas others’ makes him itch.

Your soul itself must be as sweet as the bottom innard of an ivy tentacle.

“I know,” Laios nods, smiling thinly, “I know you would’ve.”

If you say you thought it was for the best, then you really must have, and he can’t berate you for having a heart.

You return his grin threefold, overtly thrilled he’s believed in you, yet again.

“You’re kidding!” Chilchuck shouts, now tugging sharply at his hair in frustration, his face red, “Laios, how can you let her get away with this?!”

Marcille shoves your pack into your face, standing over your toppled form. She looks like she hates you.

Now you’re the one cradling a food-barren bag to your chest. Laios assists you to your feet, prying your bag from your arms with gentle fingers to settle it along the wall. It sags, giving way to its empty stomach and collapsing over itself, folding into halves.

Marcille inhales deeply, mouth popping open to speak, but it's your resident half-foot’s voice that cuts through the air.

“Why are you here?” Chilchuck grumbles, glaring up at you.

His sudden venom stuns you into silence. Chilchuck’s face round with a specifically unfamiliar malice. Through his wired irritation at mimics and tentacles, he has never looked so particularly irked. So vexed. He looks like he detests your very face.

“I need money…” you murmur, curling into yourself the longer his terrible stare goes, “Just like you…”

“No. You’re not just like me, we’re not alike,” he’s unnecessarily defensive at your claim, “I’m useful. I work. You don’t do anything. Why are you here?” he lowers his voice, but you can’t mistake the change for any sense of relief, “There’s lots of things you could do for money.”

“Chilchuck!” Marcille wails, eyes wide -- snapped from their previous disdain and now fraught with shock and dread, her hands hover at her chest as if she could physically slice, rearrange, and mend the tension, “Don’t say that!”

“Be nice,” you wring your hands, “Be nice to me,” you frown, “I didn’t want to work a hard job, and being a carrier pays well enough. Then, uh, then I thought maybe I could be useful if I died… I could be like a meat shield, and then when I die you could eat me. You know, if you ever got stuck down here… like now.”

Chilchuck guffaws, jaw dropping and brows furrowing in distraught, “Eat you?! You thought we would eat you?!”

“I wouldn’t be offended,” shrugging, you crane your head down before subtly ticking sideways towards Laios, “You’ve never eaten human, right? I’m sure it’d be interesting.”

“How could you say that?!” Marcille buds in, once again on the offense. Senshi lingers in the back of your party, beneath the shaded hood of his helmet his gaze is steely. Determinately opposed to your very ideals. He’s eerily quiet, as if complying with Chilchuck and Marcille’s side will mistakenly motivate your own. That, or he’s so horrified none of his nerve endings will respond to his brain.

Laios does not refute your claim.

He swallows roughly, eyes darting to the floor.

“Everyone,” still staring at the ground, Laios steps between your group’s semi-circle, “Enough fighting,” his voice is quiet, too, but not calm. Ragged and soft, exasperated, “Please, stop fighting.”

A sturdy markdown of your offer never escapes his lips, though.

You nod slowly, “I’m sorry for being so useless. I thought I was doing something good…”

“You do,” Laios takes you by the shoulder, spinning you the other way towards your lone mat. His voice grows quieter, by the echo you can tell he’s talking to the others now, “Don’t antagonize her.”

Your sleeping bag is cold, it ruffles stiffly everytime you move. The fluffed material beneath your head fares no better, frost biting your cheek and lapping your splayed, exposed eyeballs. Tears prick as both eyes crisp dry -- cooled droplets dripping across your cheeks. Sorrow mixes with the salt, you thought you were doing good.

Perhaps by volunteering yourself to be used to the very last shred of meat, you could be more treasured. Cowardice outweighed by willingly absorbing the worst of your party’s instincts. By this method, you are more desired.

So you thought, but you’ve been rejected.

Squealing with protest, your sleeping bag retches around shivery shoulders as you smush your quivering lips into the material of your mat.

“These past couple of days have been hard on you, huh?” Laios unrolls his own sleeping bag beside yours. You flinch at the unwelcomed rumble of his voice, unfortunately he continues, “I get it. Everyone’s on-edge,” his comforting words fail to reach you, he slips into his bag, staring at you, “I hope you’re not sleeping yet… That’d make this kind of pointless…”

“Laios.”

“There you are,” he sighs, relieved, and you cannot imagine why. You don’t think there’s anything to be relieved about as long as you’re around, sucking up space and precious resources.

“Laios,” you call, “We should just do it. Right here.”

“Huh?”

You twist your head to peek over your shoulder, chilled tears drying tracks into your cheeks, confirming each of your friends is tucked and slumbering on the other side of the room. Surely, none of them would hear so long as you didn’t fight back; and you’re certain you won’t. Laios isn’t the type to make you suffer. He knows you hate suffering. He isn’t sadistic, after all, the only pleasure he takes in killing is the follow-up: eating.

“You want to, right?” you usually wouldn’t be so daring as to make the suggestion on your own, but food supply has dwindled too drastically by now. Everyone else can maintain their delusion all they want, but you know Laios is not one to deny himself, “Laios, you want to?”

He inhales sharply, molten amber eyes blazing through your face -- faint candlelight shines against his irises and bounces back the lump of your silhouette. Stubbornly, he says nothing -- neither nodding or shaking his head. Instead, he lies still, as if bitten by a Cockatrice.

“We can do it right now. They’re all asleep.”

Laios sneaks a hand through the neckhole of his sleeping bag, arm slithering out to soothe the pad of his thumb over your cheek. Silently, he appreciates the roundness of your face, the slope of your neck.

He does want to sink his teeth in, but this feels stranger than consuming monsters. It stretches far past the walking mushrooms or slimes on the top level; the problematic nature of your proposal even surpasses Chilchuck’s humanoid debate. You’re not a mere humanoid -- you’re human. Another tall-man. Your muscle composition is just the same as his -- your skeletons indecipherable from one another.

It shouldn’t be difficult to decide, Laios knows that much. He shouldn’t have to think about it. He shouldn’t shut down every time you mention it.

Despite that, he does -- he considers how the flesh of another tall-man would roll between his molars. Would the meat be salty? Or savory? How much fat should he trim -- or should he boil it all down just to save?

But aside from that, the reason he wants to mark your neck is not those taboo urges. Completely unrelated, in fact.

Laios’ fingers trail from your pulse point, curving along your exposed shoulder and dipping beneath your bag to dig blunt nails into your arm.

“No,” he squeezes your shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture, “Not you,” his hand retracts, coiling back to his chest, “I don’t want to eat you.”

“We’ll all die…” you frown, eyes of an iridescent sunshine sheen maintain their hold on you, “It’s better for one to go rather than the rest of the party, right? I can be useful like that…”

“I don’t want to eat you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” his eyes flutter shut, brows pinching towards the middle of his face. And he cares not for what that may say about him as a leader. He’d giddily offer up the entire party to be found by corpse retrievers before gobbling you down.

“But then why keep me around? I don’t do anything special like Chilchuck or Marcille. I can’t cook or fight like Senshi. And I’m nothing like you.”

“You don’t have to be,” he tucks his chin by his chest, still avoiding your stare, “I prefer you as you. I’m glad we know each other, I don’t care if you feel useless because you’re not. Just having you around makes me feel more alive. More excited to explore the dungeon, even before Falin got taken. I feel like I need you around more than before. Since Shuro said he hated me… I guess it’s been tougher to trust that I’m not annoying everyone. With you, though, I don’t even have to question it. Outside the dungeon, too, when we’re in town. It’s nice to be around you the most.”

His eyes are clenched tighter and tighter the longer his spiel goes on -- he cannot bear to look you in the eyes while guts and bile spew from his lips. His cheeks are red, raw from self-imposed exposure.

“Do you mean that?” you ask quietly, eyes so wide in shock he’s forced to meet them as he opens his own, “Am I useful to you, just because I’m me?”

He hums, nodding softly. Crude emotion overwhelms you at the admission; confusion and disbelief and desire tangle in your stomach, loose tendrils flapping up into your gullet and knotting around your uvula until you spit up a meek,

“Can I sleep with you?” as if he would refuse you, you tack on, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Wordlessly, Laios unzips his sleeping bag -- you crawl out from your own to invade his space. His body is soft yet firm against your back, and he makes a clear effort in keeping his breaths shallow. You can see the worsening red tint of his cheeks, even in the wavering candlelight.

Laios’ body goes limp once you’re settled beside him. Selfishly, you press into his lax form -- exhaustion and hunger making your head light. You’re not concretely sure you’re conscious right now. Maybe this is your final dream before you are culled by starvation.

Your stomach grumbles, and Laios pouts at the sound. Bringing one hand over his own abdomen, Laios edges his fingers around his ribcage. He can feel the bone’s impression. He hasn’t been able to feel the protrusion since splitting from the traveling caravan with Falin. He’s unaccustomed to starving himself, he’s unsure how much longer he can hold himself together. You, however, pay no mind to the sound.

You don’t so much as crimp into yourself.

“It’s kinda weird,” you muse suddenly, turning in Laios’ bag so your chest is pressed to his. Oddly, for all its intimate implications, the contact feels natural, “I hate suffering more than anything else, but I can’t bring myself to regret giving you my breakfast a couple days ago. Even though the suffering that nasty junk gave me was a lot better than how I feel right now.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Laios’ arms wrap around you, tucking you even closer to him and forcing your legs to mingle with his, “Eating is the best thing you could do for your body.”

“I’m happier you got to eat than I would’ve been after eating it. Besides,” you cant your head up, chin digging into the center of his thick chest -- looking up at Laios, “I prefer sleeping to nourish my body.”

“As soon as we’re out, you’ll have the most delicious meal we can make in the dungeon.”

He hugs you tighter.

You don’t dream that night. But Laios does.

pt 2 - rabbit eat dog

Laios’ cheeks sting in the frosty air, forearms and knees stubbornly tingling through the puffer of his red long-sleeve. Attempting to make out the space even five inches before his face is impossible through the thick, icy fog, but he knows the way. His feet pivot in perfect tune to each divot and roll of the plains.

He’s grown up here. Ran over these lands since he could lift one leg over the other, though now he is alone. Wandering with only the intent to find, and even then he is alone. Laios never feels more alone than when he is in a room full of people, at least in solitude he cannot be ridiculed or judged. Cowardly as it may seem to run from his problems, Laios chases relief -- where exactly that is, he’s unsure. His relief comes in forms that move, much more inconvenient than ale or tobacco but also much more divine. Moving sister, moving moon, moving monsters.

A cursory, confirming glance up gives sight to the real moon hanging above Laios -- a pale face beaming down to give light, only to be choked out by this unabating fog. Fond for night, Laios feels eased by the celestial. Nighttime, childishly, is something he’s always associated with terrible creatures in the bowls of dungeons. Besides that, is how quiet the house becomes past sundown, when the only conscious soul is his. Sometimes his sister stood up with him, too, and that was nice.

Nice, still, is the other moon’s presence. One less large and pale. One that walked at his side.

A soft glow scourges through the plumes of gray, encouraging Laios to quicken his pace. Warmth blooms across his frosted extremities, thawing stiff joints until suddenly he’s too hot beneath his puffer. Stripping the material, he’s left to sweat in a simple pullover shirt as he begins stumbling towards the glow.

Fog clears, drifting apart seamlessly.

Laios trips abruptly, seemingly over his own footing, before tumbling to his knees, hands scraping on hidden rocks and dirt clots. His eyes water from the intense sear of light painting the ground.

“Hey.”

Laios, against better intuition, feels a bizarre sense of calm wash over him at the voice’s intrusion. Perhaps specifically because of whose voice calls to him.

You loom over his huddled frame, just as bright and welcoming as the moon, and just as pretty too. Prettier, he corrects.

“Hi,” he returns your greeting lamely, rising slowly to a stand.

“You look hungry.”

Recently, Laios has discovered that even after a hearty meal his appetite is not quite satiated. During the brief moments where his mind can wander, he spends it contemplating what he could be eating in that moment. Well, that when he’s not thinking about you. While his stomach is not a bottomless pit ever unfilled, more often than not he’s adopting the attitude of well, i could eat. Not quite greed, not quite temperance. He’ll take what is offered and be gracious.

So, yes, in short, Laios supposes he is always hungry. Admitting that to you is particularly embarrassing, however, because you never seem hungry. Even when your stomach sings with starvation, your discomfort is completely invisible.

He used to assume it was your resilience -- a sign of your courage, to continue adventuring regardless of your terror.

(now, he’s starting to think differently, with your fresh disposition of raw nerves and desperation to be enjoyed)

“You’re hungrier, right?”

“Not really.”

“Oh…” he’s unsure how to respond. Trapped to stare at you while you stare back.

These parts of the fields are entirely unfamiliar to Laios.

“You should be hungry,” he tries to reason.

“Why?”

“Don’t know. Just a feeling, really.”

“What should I eat?” you frown, inching closer.

“Whatever you want,” he answers honestly. Laios believes in free will, but in some strange, completely unintelligible way, he thinks you deserve the most free will. He thinks you should do whatever you want, whenever you want, and he’s left confused how you don’t feel the same.

(feasibly in light of the night’s cannibal-themed fight) You suddenly suggest, “What about you?”

Laios freezes at that, all fire radiating from you icing over in an instant. Gaze sinking to his feet. Could he realistically agree to that? End his life to feed you? Does his devotion stretch so far?

Laios would hate to (permanently) die… but he would hate more for you to (permanently) die before him.

He dodges your question with one of his own, “Would you still like me if I was a monster?”

When he’s feeling distinctly indulgent, Laios flashes into long past fantasies of becoming a tri-headed beast.

And if he were to become one, would you gaze upon him just as kindly? Would Laios still be Laios to you?

His eyes follow each twinge in your face as you think, brows scrunching and bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Eventually you nod, slow and measured, “Yes. I would.”

Laios believes that, honestly. You would have to. You’re just that amazing. So, he should be amazing in equal measure -- or more, he should aim to impress you with his greatness.

So, yes. If you really wanted to. He could feed you with himself.

…

You wake up feeling unrefreshed.

Senshi, Marcille, and Chilchuck continue to bar themselves across the room from you. Laios freely travels from one end to the other despite your party’s annoyance with him. Grumbling stomachs echo from each person in the group now, and you wonder if maybe you should circumvent Laios’ rejection to feed your friends anyway. To make up for your various mistakes and blunders. It's only right.

You stare at Chilchuck’s back -- his arms no longer flailing with movement, hands instead paused around the box lock itself. He’s glaring at the mechanism, you think he’s hoping nobody notices his lack of effort. Marcille and Senshi are murmuring amongst themselves, casting wry glances your way every other sentence. Perhaps they’re discussing potential ways to make you suffer when they finally gut you.

You wouldn’t fight back, you know you wouldn’t. For the good of the pack’s survival, you’ll let them feast upon you.

(it does not once cross your mind that they could be talking about how to best convince you you’re wrong for writing your own consumption off so easily)

Laios sits at your back. Not moving. Not touching. Watching.

Your eyes drift from Chilchuck’s petrified frame to the floor, then to one cobbled block slightly lower than the others. About an inch below level, but not sunken in completely: the stone Senshi stepped on.

“Senshi?” you call.

No response.

“Hey, Senshi?”

He’s staring at you, but his eyes are hard to make out beneath his helmet. You shift upon your knees despite Laios’ soft bleat of disapproval. Marcille now stares as well, eyes much easier to spot when they’re wide with worry.

“I think this stone is…” you shove the step with your meager might and it budges a mere centimeter.

Laios’ hand overlaps yours, pushing down as well. The stone thuds loudly, and Chilchuck suddenly jumps back as the spears clink and shoot into the holed ground. He rockets back up to fuddle the lock, this time it clicks and pops open first try.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Chilchuck kicks up at the retreating bars in vain. He whirls around to see you and Laios hunched over the stone and sighs, silently passing you both to collect his bags and exit.

Senshi and Marcille follow example.

Laios unlatches from your back, and you miss his warmth more immediately than you thought you would.

“I think I should leave the party.”

“Why?” he frowns so genuinely, you’d be unable to buy his cluelessness if you hadn’t known him for so long.

“They don’t like me anymore,” you settle both hands in your lap, plucking at the skin around your nails, “They know I’m useless.”

“So?” his tone is soft, so opposite to his callous start, “I want you here more than anybody. I’m happy to have people I trust and who are good at their work, but I think if you didn’t come with us back into the dungeon, it’d be another thing I’m always thinking of instead of what’s in front of me. And nobody gets my fascination with monsters like you do.”

“Senshi does…”

“I like you more than I like Senshi.”

“Why?”

Laios opens his mouth, teeth white and glistening in the soft flicker glow of dancing orange candle flame. You await his bite. He closes his mouth. You wish you were so confident to pry it wide and press yourself into his cheeks. You wish he’d just eat you whole. Spare no mind to how the others thought of it. If they won’t accept you bones and all, then you’ll continue to long for Laios. You can do that easily. You’ve been an expert in the matter since you joined his group.

“Nobody else will take me, Laios,” you greedily grasp him by the shoulder, “I’m being so selfish, but I need you to- !”

He slaps your hand away, reaching over your offending hands to snag you by your own shoulders, “I don’t want to hear that, you shouldn’t talk like that! You deserve to live, and eat, just like everyone else! We’re friends as much as we are party members, right? They wouldn’t stick around if they weren’t. Your friends wouldn’t want you to be eaten either.”

You glance at the archway, none of the three others are visible, “Is that why they were mad?”

“I can’t speak for them, but you should be up front about how you feel. Talk to them before leaving,” he lowers his head, “If you’re planning to leave still, anyway. Though, I really hope you stay.”

Laios is too afraid to say he’ll beg, if it would enrich the offer. The mere idea of your face twisting angrily or an annoyed rejection slipping past your lips kills him. With both you and Falin gone, Laios would feel a sense of estrangement he hasn’t since his army days. Loneliness amplifying until it's unable to be ignored. The grief and confusion of your loss would muddy the remaining friendly faces in his party -- the taste of monsters would even be dulled. Humiliation would rattle his sense of self everytime he remembered that you’re not even dead, just drifted away.

He’d never survive without you, but he refuses to steal your entire life that mercilessly so he pretends he could.

“If we all just talk to each other, then nobody has to get hurt,” Laios’ hands lower to yours, he squeezes gently while avoiding your eyes, choosing to study the way you lean into his touch, “I don’t want you to go. And I don’t want them to be hurt.”

“Okay,” you rise onto unsteady feet.

Laios separates from you to begin stowing away both your belongings while you squirm into the hallway in front of your party. They shuffle awkwardly, with only Senshi capable of meeting your eyes. Yet he stands the furthest from you.

“I- “ the words dance over your tongue, you thought you were prepared to say them. You’ll leave. You’ll leave. You’ll leave. But you can’t. The words trip and fall and tumble back into your throat before you surrender, “I don’t want to leave the party, but I am sorry for lying. I know I don’t do much, but I love adventuring with everyone. Really, I only- !”

“We were stressed,” Marcille steps forward, releasing one hand from Ambrosia to lay on your hand, “I don’t think it’d be easy on anyone to say the leftovers were actually gone. Especially when you knew that’s what we were relying on to not starve.”

Senshi nods slowly, “We weren’t expectin’ you to run off as apology. You’re young, you make mistakes.”

Marcille elbows your party’s half-foot.

Chilchuck sighs, shaking his hands out at his sides in the way your father used to, “I’m sorry. For calling you useless. I get why you lied, I probably would’ve done the same thing in your position to keep the party from freaking out. But, please,” his usually (deceptively) friendly and pleasant face has morphed into one of weary, a grown man concerned for a child, “Never say anything like that again. We don’t want you dead, let alone to eat your body. You have to plan to stay alive with everyone else, otherwise what’s the point of even joining the party?”

“Right. Sorry,” you blurt, increasingly ashamed of your suggestion earlier.

Their rejection stems not from disgust, then, but love.

They don’t want to eat you because to them you shouldn’t even die.

What a strange conclusion to now be forced to draw. You’re not sure how to swallow it, every time you try it rushes back up. Your friends’ concerned faces give you the determination to keep trying, though.

Laios barrels through the doorway -- redressed in his armor with the remaining bags slung over his shoulders, grinning broadly, “Looks like we can start walking again.”

Much to everyone’s chagrin, the trek towards the next floor begins on an empty stomach. When you reach up for the packs you usually carry, Laios jerks them from your grasp, you whine quietly, “Hey, that’s my job!”

“I know,” he shrugs the bags around his broad frame to fit them more comfortably, “but you haven’t eaten longer than me, and you didn’t sleep very well last night. So let me.”

His strides quicken until he’s by Senshi, you watch him point towards you and Senshi hums thoughtfully.

Your stomach rolls with hunger, and the sting makes you reach out for Laios. You slip your arms around one of his and cradle his elbow into your gut, reducing the ache with a different digging sensation. Laios leans towards you to make the work easier, all while continuing his conversation with Senshi about what the most delicious dungeon meal they could make you would be.

~~~

i like relationships where they dont understand each other but want to try anyway :3

i also love writing readers that are insane and fundamentally insufferable, but still loved

[mabelstone]

Why would you be loved?

hozier x f!reader

part two of lullabies <3 | part one | masterlist

cw: teeeeeny bit of violence at very beginning ... also 18+ ok if u are unfamiliar with me... this is my thing. this character is FICTIONAL before u attack me for sexualising THE hozier

word count: 3.2k

*i've decided i'd like this to be a slow burn... but don't worry! i will add things to keep u interested (or attempt to)

The sticky slap of their skin echoed through the room, my heart thudding loud enough in my ears to deafen the noise.

I lurched forward, grabbing the leggy blonde from the bar by her hair, yanking her off of Joe and slamming her naked body into the wall. She gasped loudly, falling onto the ground where she watched on in horror. I grabbed the nearest object I could reach - his bedside lamp - smashing the ceramic over his head, screaming in his face about how he's fucked this up for good.

Except that's not what happened.

I opened the door to the same scenario, except I didn't lose my temper and tear the two of them to shreds. My heart still pounded harder than ever, but I simply backed out into the hall without a sound. My eyes must've been something of a Tim Burton character as I walked back outside, leaving the front door wide open. I didn't even grab anything as my handbag was still over my shoulder. I dug around for my phone, finding nothing but an old gum packet, some lipgloss, and some loose change.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, running my hands through my hair. I had my phone in the bar. Did I leave it in Andrew's car? Fuck, did I leave it at the bar? I began to panic, frantically walking down the street. As if I could walk all the way back! It was at least 15 kilometres from my place. I didn't care though, continuing to pace in the cold in clothing more suited to warmer weather. I kept replaying what I saw over and over in my head. I'd usually call my mum, but...

The way his hands were digging into her skin, the way she kept repeating how good he was making her feel. I felt sick to my stomach, and the alcohol wasn't helping. I'm not sure they even saw me, but once he finished (judging by the sounds he was making, wouldn't be too long) he'd see the doors open and connect the dots.

I turned my head as I heard someone whistle from across the street, inexplicably grateful to see Andy's car. "What're you doin'?"

"Do you have my phone?" My voice sounded foreign to me, robotic and desperate at the same time. I crossed the street, heading straight for the passenger side.

"Your lifeline is right here, hence why I am," he laughed, holding my phone out to me. I just stood at the door expressionless, and he probably thought my drinks had been spiked or I'd gone mad. "You... alright?"

"Joe is cheating on me," robotically sounding again. Though saying the words out loud made it suddenly real. Joe is cheating on me.

"What?" His eyebrows shot up, dipping his head to see my face better. "What? When?"

"Like, literally right now," I laughed. I began to laugh hysterically, having to rest my hands on the top of his car to steady myself. I laughed so hard, tears began to stream down my face and my stomach hurt.

The next thing I knew, that familiar warm hand was on my back, followed by a soft, "c'mere". I turned to face Andrew, immediately bursting into tears. Real tears this time. He pulled me in close to his chest, one arm easily wrapped around my shoulders, the other cradling the back of my head. I sobbed into his shirt, likely accidentally digging my nails into his back as I clung to him. If I did, he didn't comment on it. He held me tight, rubbing soft circles into my spine with his palm. I don't know how long we stood there for, but when I pulled away, his shirt was soaked and covered in mascara.

"I'm so sorry," I gave a half hearted laugh, gesturing to the stained cotton. "I will wash it for you, I'm good at getting stains out."

"Don't be ridiculous," he smiled that poor you smile he always did, but this time it felt like a comfort as he shook his head. "You can come back to mine and shower. Then we can figure this out."

"No, no, I don't want to put you out." I protested, wiping under my eyes, undoubtedly smudging the black into my hairline. I sniffled, wiping my snotty nose onto the sleeve of my cardigan. If Joe was right about Andy being infatuated with me, I definitely just destroyed that in one simple, snotty gesture.

"I insist," he smiled, leaning against the side of the car. I was exhausted, and a nice shower in a house that didn't reek of infidelity sounded too good to reject. I nodded and climbed into the passenger seat for the second time tonight, switching on my phone to see no new messages. Maybe he didn't see me after all.

I slipped into an oversized hoodie of Andrew’s after my shower, steam on the mirror and condensation on every surface from the amount of time I was in there. I felt guilty using his water, but time slipped away from me by the time I realised. He had real shampoo and conditioner, not that pathetic 3 in 1 bullshit Joe used. I stole a hair tie and hid my messy curls in a bun. I honestly looked like a mess, but it was definitely an improvement from before. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Most of the alcohol had fleeted my system, so now I was just exhausted and forced to bask in the reality of the situation.

I walked into his living room where he was sat, one arm slung over the back of the couch while the other flicked through Netflix. It was strange to see him in his space, so comfortable and… domestic. No, we’re not doing this. Yet.

I looked down and saw a black border collie mix strewn across his lap. “Oh my goodness!” I swooned as I headed straight for the dog. Andy mustn’t have heard me, jumping slightly and cursing under his breath. “How rude of me. Who’s this little angel?”

“The breaking of my heart,” he began, hand over his chest as he stared lovingly down at his dog. “Elwood.”

“Elwood? Really?” I quirked an eyebrow, looking up to Elwood’s owner.

“It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful boy, I don’t understand the issue?”

I rolled my eyes, going back to snuggling the dog, kissing his face all over. “He is beautiful. Yes you are!” Elwood wagged his tail excitedly, slobbering happily all over my hands.

Andrew chuckled down at us, averting his eyes back to the TV, a soft smile lingering on his lips.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower, Andy,” I smiled, sitting beside him on the lounge, feeling like the human embodiment of the calm after a storm.

“Oh, that’s no problem at all," he grinned earnestly, playing the pilot of Breaking Bad softly in the background. He lulled his head to the side, eyes glistening in the soft golden lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. "Want a tea?"

"Please," I nodded, Elwood now snuggled into my lap. The moment he left the room, I was left with the crushing reality of what'd just happened. The horrible sound that plagued my phonic memory, as if it were played through headphones at a deafening volume. I tried to focus on the TV, Breaking Bad had always been my favourite. It was no use, the gut wrenching ache within me only multiplied by the minute, tears welling in my eyes, daring to fall.

"I wasn't sure how you take it so I bought everything with me," he placed two tea cups onto his coffee table, along with a carton of milk and a canister of sugar.

"So adorable, you remind me of my gran," I teased, desperately trying to blink away any trace of sadness before he had a chance to see. I didn't need to burden him with any more tears.

"You know, I've been called far worse," he shrugged, taking his tea black, sitting beside me on the couch. "So I'll take it."

I hummed in response, mixing in my milk and sugar.

"So... maybe a redundant question, but, how're you feeling?"

"Well," I chuckled bitterly, sipping from my tea. "Probably feeling as you'd expect. Actually, that's a lie. I don't know how I feel honestly."

His eyes studied my features, and I deliberately avoided his gaze. His dog snored away in my lap, the TV just loud enough that any amount of silence couldn't be awkward.

"Has... anything like this happened to you?" I asked, despite the voice in my head telling me not to.

"Ehm, yeah. Not too long ago, actually," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, his chocolate curls flicking up at the ends, framing his face beautifully in the light. "We were together for three years. She was sleeping around with a friend of mine. She broke it off with me when she decided she'd rather be with him."

"Her loss," I mirrored that same pitiful look he always gave me, the slight drop in his expression making me feel guilty for even asking. "You make a mean cup of tea."

"If only she could appreciate the art of English Breakfast," he sighed, a sad smile lingering on his lips despite the sarcasm in his tone.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Andy," I sighed, tempted to reach out for him but deciding against it in fear of breaching some unspoken boundary. "I'll get out of your hair soon."

"You can stay- only if you'd like," he offered awkwardly, eyes flickering to mine as he fiddled with the handle of his cup. "There's a spare bedroom."

"No, no. You've been so kind tonight, I don't want to push it," I shook my head, misjudging the height of the coffee table, my cup hitting it with a sharp clank. Elwood startled, throwing his head back to look at me. "Sorry, buddy."

"You're not pushing anything," he laughed, shaking his head now. "It's late. The decision's all yours. But I must say, that bed might be nicer than my own."

"Quite persuasive, aren't you?" I grinned, throwing my head back against the couch, weighing up my options. Well, I can't go home. "Okay. I'll stay... if you're sure that's okay?"

"Well, because you're twisting my arm..." He joked, that bright, happy smile making its glorious return. "I'll get you a spare toothbrush and a bottle of water. You've had a big night."

"Yeah," I breathed, rubbing at my burning, no doubt bloodshot, eyes. "I am exhausted."

"Come, I'll show you to your room," he got up from the couch, extending his hand to me. I took it in mine, warm and calloused; so large, his fingers reached my wrist as he helped me from the couch. I followed behind him, the soft padding of our feet up the stairs slowly becoming the only sound audible. Elwood trailing close behind, of course.

He showed me to the guest room, nothing special, but somehow a massive comfort. A navy blue, fluffy duvet with a bedside table, a simple lamp and a copy of Inferno by Dante Alighieri atop it.

"Oh, I'll grab that toothbrush," he waved his hand as if he were finally able to dismiss the thought. I chuckled at the way he hurried out of the room, the exhaustion rippling through my body as I sat on the edge of the bed. He was right. This might be the comfiest bed I've ever had the pleasure of sitting on. I zoned out, staring at the carpet as I finally sobered up. These past few weeks had been fucked, and I knew they'd only get worse. My phone started buzzing rapidly as Andy came back into the room, a bottle of water, a toothbrush still in the packaging, and a sheet of panadol in his hands. He silently placed them onto the bedside table, both of us just watching my phone ring. It was Joe.

Against my better judgement, I picked up on the last ring, raising the phone to my ear.

"Where are you?" His voice was hoarse, unsuspecting. Idiot.

"Doesn't matter," I sighed, nauseated at the sound of his voice.

"Well, it does. I've been worried sick about you, you're meant to be home now. How would I know you hadn't been kidnapped or gone home with some creep?"

"That is ironic," I laughed, though there was no humour in my tone.

"The fuck are you on about? Get home right now." He was getting angrier by the second. Andrew could hear every word, his brows knitted together in disgust as he listened on.

"I did come home. You were a bit busy," I swallowed harshly, my voice failing me, beginning to shake.

There was silence on his end for a good thirty seconds, all air in Andrew's small guest bedroom thinning at once. "...Babe. We will get through this."

"I don't think so."

"Don't say shit like that. I love you, Y/N. We'll get through this stronger than ever. Just come home, baby. I'll make it up to you," he was speaking fast, panicked almost.

"I need some space," I replied weakly, eyes filling with tears again.

"No. I love you. Come home. Please, babe, pl-"

I hung up on him before he got the chance to manipulate me straight back into his arms, Andy watching me with a frown. Suddenly, it was all too real, and I was breaking down in front of him for the second time tonight.

He didn't say anything. I felt the bed dip beside me, his warm arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me in close. We stayed like that for a while - my head leaned against his shoulder as I cried, his head atop mine - until I felt like there was no water left in my body. I heaved a massive sigh, sitting up straight again.

"Oh, Andy, I'm so s-"

"You've nothing to be sorry for," he hushed me, sincerity written all over his face, kind emerald eyes revealing that he wasn't doing anything for secondary gain; he was just a beautiful soul. "Get some rest."

"Okay," I agreed, pulling back the covers with his help. I wanted him to stay, I didn't want to be alone. I wished he could've just laid with me, no meaning attached, but just to have the warmth of another to occupy the cold, empty bed. Instead I thanked him again, pulling the covers up to my chin.

"You know where my room is. I'll be there if you need anything," he smiled earnestly, flicking off the light before walking out.

Goodnight, Andy, I almost said, but sleep washed over me quicker than I could form the words.

I woke early, bathed in velvety caramel coloured sunlight, slowly beginning to register where I was. I made my way down to corridor to Andy's room, his bedroom door barely ajar. I put my ear to the door, not wanting to wake him if he were still sleeping. I heard soft pants escaping his lips, letting my curiosity get the best of me.

I gently pushed the door open, revealing the glow of his milky skin in the same light. His beautiful halo of curls sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead, his face contorted in pleasure and concentration as he worked himself beneath the covers. I couldn't suppress the noise of surprise that escaped my lips as he whimpered my name.

"Fuck-" He gasped, pulling his hand from under the cover. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Keep going," I encouraged, slowly making my way to him. Confusion plastered all over his face, he obliged, slipping his hand back under the cover. I sat before him, our eyes locked on one another as he picked up the pace. "Gooood, that's it."

His brows furrowed as he continued to worked himself, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each swallow. I slipped into bed beside him, my hand replacing his. His breathing pattern grew irregular, every vowel of my name dripping off his tongue, igniting a fire deep in my core. I began placing wet kisses along jawline, making my way down to his neck, then his chest, then-

And then I actually woke up, heart beating at a million miles an hour. What. The. Fuck. Shame immediately coursed through my veins, burying my face into my pillow as I replayed the dream over and over until it was committed to memory. Am I an awful person?

I could vaguely hear Andrew singing along to Let's Fall In Love by Ella Fitzgerald in the kitchen, cautiously making my way down the stairs. I was disgusted in myself for even thinking of him in that way, let alone loving every shame filled second of it.

"Mornin'," I made myself known, sliding onto one of the stools at his breakfast bar.

"Good morning," he chirped, sliding a cup of coffee toward me. He had his glasses on this morning, his hair pulled back into a bun. "How're you feelin'?"

"Good," I lied through my teeth, concealing it with an enthusiastic nod. "Better, yeah." I just gave you a handjob in my dream and now I want you to pin me to the couch and make love to me all day. Oh, and I'm supposed to be grieving a near 6 year relationship, but now I'm just really fucking confused. "How are you?"

"Hungry. And I hope you are too," he grinned, revealing a big stack of pancakes he'd just cooked for us, as well as a bowl of chopped strawberries.

"I am, that looks lovely," another lie. I had no appetite. But I also couldn't say no to a man so sickly sweet. He sat beside me, soft jazz serenading us from his record player.

"What've you got on today?" He queried, plopping a pancake onto each of our plates.

"Might visit my ma, update her on... everything, I guess. Then I've gotta get my car. Maybe some clothes. Fuck, I don't even know what to do," I laughed awkwardly, taking a sip of my coffee. "You performing tonight?"

"Hoping to," he nodded, taking a bite of a strawberry. "You know you're more than welcome to spend the night here again."

"I couldn't possibly burden you for another night," I deflected, mirroring his actions and popping a strawberry into my mouth.

"You actually don't have to fight me each time, you cay just say no," he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

"I love spending time with you," I confessed, resting my hand on his arm, then retracting it just as fast. "I just don't want you to think I'm using you."

"Nonsense," he waved me off, scoffing. "It's nice to have some company. Plus, Elwood has taken a strong liking to you."

"The feeling is mutual," I laughed, breaking off a piece of my pancake for the dog happily wagging his tail by my feet. "I'm sure you have lady friends come and visit."

"Only ones who ruin their tea with milk and barely touch their pancakes," he remarked with a wide grin. I felt my cheeks turn hot at his stupid comment, finally digging in to my breakfast.

Maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all.

i don't love this... but this desperately needed an update. feel free to send requests of some stuff you'd like in the next chapter xx

[justauthoring]

your reassurance

matches could get a little tense, but never this bad.

a/n: i go back to school in two days and im not ready to deal with the stress of everything once again so i wrote this to comfort me :) i promise i'll write for anime soon lol.

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader

warnings: you literally get a water bottle thrown at you :)

Basically, it had all gone to hell in a matter of seconds.

What had been nothing more than any regular game you’ve gone to hundreds of times, turned into a full out brawl that left your heart racing in fear. You’d been up in the box with Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins as you always were, happily watching Richmond play while your eyes specifically gravitated towards a certain player with the number nine on his back.

Richmond was winning and you’d been very vocal and very loud about your excitement and support (like you always were) the entire game. Jamie seemed to be especially on fire that day after securing one goal himself and assisting with two other ones, which happily placed Richmond in the lead of three to one.

But it wasn’t an at home match, and it seemed like some of the fans who cheered for their home team didn’t appreciate just how loudly you and your friends were cheering.

After Jamie manages to score another goal himself, you’re jumping up to your feet, decked out in red and blue with Jamie’s number happily adorning your back. You scream so loud even though your throat already feels raw from how loud you’d been cheering the entire match, Keeley’s hands tightly clutching your arms as the both of you jump up and down. Jamie is being tackled by his teammates and you watch the celebration with a fond smile, cheeks flushed, skin slightly warm with sweat as the whole match catches up to you.

Then, suddenly, there’s something smacking you right in the forehead.

It’s a surprise enough, not having expected the hit, but it hurts enough to knock you off balance. You stumble backwards on your feet and feel Keeley’s grip tighten on you as she tries to catch you. Your hand falls to your forehead where you’d been heard, winching when it throbs in response, lowering your gaze only to see a water bottle on the ground next to your feet and when your eyes glance ahead of you, you see a pair of blazing eyes staring back at you.

“Babes,” Keeley calls out in shock, pulling your eyes on her as she glances at your forehead. “Are you–”

“Shut your damn whore mouth!”

You’ve hardly processed what’s happening before you realize that the man is trying to climb his way up to your seats, and Keeley is harshly pulling you back to safety. You distantly hear Rebecca calling out for security as Higgins tries to guide everyone else to safety as well. You know you should snap out of it and help Keeley but your vision is blurring and your heart is racing and everything is suddenly too much that you’re stuck staring at the pair of eyes that seem to wish the absolute worst for you.

The man manages to grab your arm before you can fully pull away, digging his nails into your arm as you let out a small cry before Keeley rips his grasp off of you and fully tugging you away. She pulls you to face her, shoving her in front of you when it was clear that you were the man’s target and you see security rushing past you as second later as you’re pulled away from the stadium and down the hall.

Rebecca is rushing to get medics and Keeley is trying to ask you if you’re okay but you can’t think straight. You keep glancing over your shoulder in fear that somehow the man will be there, but of course he isn’t and before you know it you’re being tucked away into a room and sat on a bench where Rebecca returns with some of Richmond’s medics.

Keeley stays there, holding your hand tightly as the medic checks you over. You squeeze her hand without even realizing it, your heart still pounding madly against your chest as the medic cleans the scratches the man had managed to dig into your arm and place a bandage over them. She confirms that you have a very mild concussion from the plastic water bottle hitting your head and she wants you to rest in the room for a bit before heading home, and only if you have someone to drive you home.

Luckily, Keeley is able to assure that you do when you find yourself unable to speak, and then the medic is leaving with one final goodbye and a nod Rebecca’s way.

“Babe,” Keeley calls softly, “are you–”

“Where is she?” A sudden voice booms and you react to something for the first time since everything had happened, back straightening as your eyes fall towards the door in alert. “Oi, where is Y/N? Y/N–”

Whatever Jamie had been about to say promptly falls shut the second he reaches the door and his eyes catch yours. His face falls when he sees you, the wild panic in his eyes morphing to concern when he takes you in and before you realize it you’re jumping off the bench and he’s wrapping his arms around you before you can even take one step.

You wrap your arms around him tightly, burying your head into the crook of his neck as a small sob leaves your lips. Jamie presses a hand to the back of your head in response, worried eyes flickering over to Keeley who’s offering him a small smile and a hand to your back before she steps out with Rebecca, the two of them giving you some privacy.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get ‘ere,” Jamie rambles the second he’s sure you’re alone. He pulls back, moving to cup your cheeks as his eyes traces your injuries, frowning deeply when he sees the bruise that’s welling on your forehead. “We were already leaving the pitch when it happened and when I tried to turn around, I couldn’t get through. I tried to get to you as soon as possible, love. Are… what happened?”

It’s like everything finally catches up to you. The tears welling in your eyes finally fall as you clutch onto him tightly, relying on his presence heavily, shaking your head. “I dunno,” you mumble. “One second I’m cheering for your win and then a water bottle is being thrown at my head. Jamie, he was so angry… the man who hit me and then he was trying to get to me and I froze… I… I was so scared.”

Using his thumb to brush away your tears, Jamie shakes his head, shushing you gently. “I’m so sorry, love. I should’ve been there.”

You just shake your head; “you couldn’t have known. Keeley helped get me away and Rebecca got security as soon as possible.”

“Then I owe them the whole world for keeping you safe for me,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, careful not to put pressure on your injury. “And I’ll personally make sure that that man is never allowed to a single match ever again. And worse.”

Nodding, you reach up and grab his hands in your hand, leaning against him. “I couldn’t think properly until I saw you,” you explain, registering that you hadn’t really listened to the medic when she was trying to help you. And you hadn’t thanked Rebecca or Keeley yet, which you would need to. “I think I was in shock.”

“Of course ya were,” Jamie agrees. “What ya went through… ya never should have had to. I’m so sorry that it even happened in the first place.”

You just shake your head, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I think the medic said I only had a mild concussion. And that you need to drive me home.”

“Done,” Jamie agrees with ease, “you practically already live with me. Will ya be okay takin’ the bus back home with the boys? I don’t really want ya to be alone.”

You nod with ease. “I want to be with you,” you assure, meeting his gaze. “Rebecca’s private jet is lovely but I need you.”

“Then you’ve got me,” Jamie promises, pulling you in for a hug once more, holding you tightly as if afraid you’d disappear from his fingers. “Always.”

[fhrlclln]

dorky!qimir x acolyte!fem!reader

in the midst of finishing up my three fics i’m currently gonna post soon. have some tinge of something from me cuz my brain made up a funny scenario w/ qimir & an overly flirty acolyte!reader

sooo… imagine like reader likes to flirt with qimir, a lot… to the point where he sometimes would hide away from you because how touchy you are and how raunchy your flirting is with him. LOLLL 😭

pt. 2

suggestive themes under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

“qimirrrrr? qimir!?”

“oh, maker.” qimir’s eyes widened when he hears your voice enter the shop. mae rolls her eyes, when she sees him drop the ingredients he was using for making her poison for master torbin as he ducks behind the counter.

“get her out of here!” qimir whispered-yelled at the other acolyte. mae glared down on him, but a small mischievous smirk appears on her lips as she thinks of something as she turns to you, her fellow acolyte. qimir was not one for being this desperate to hide for anybody. it was just that… sometimes you, who happened to grow a… crush or he thinks you have a crush on him, has his whole life turned upside down.

you were borderline touchy with him, he doesn’t know if what you were doing was just to toy with him in your past time or that you have no sense of personal space for him whatsoever. he cringes at himself, remembering the way you would press up against him while he’s working, or sometimes you’d ‘accidentally’ bump into him, your ass brushing against his crotch that makes his whole core shook. and your flirtatious words, he’s overly shocked to even hear some words he doesn’t know can be used come out of your mouth when you teased him, looking at him with your sultry gaze as if you want to eat him up. quite literally.

the fact that it was getting hard to work with you, it was getting hard to conceal the reaction you had caused on him. was he a sicko for actually enjoying your harassment? he doesn’t know, but the tent growing in his pants back then says otherwise. he sometimes wants to give up his act, and maybe you would stop once you know he was your master. pathetic it was that he had to hide from you now, he feels like a coward.

“he’s here!” mae points behind the counter. your eyes light up at mae’s words as you immediately walk towards the counter.

“you traitor-!“ he feels betrayed as he glared at mae. she merely dismisses him, chuckling.

“i’ll come back for my poison.” she says and he’s panicking now. your head pops up from his point of view, he glances up, awkwardly faking a smile at you as you giggled at him.

“hi, qimir.” you greet him with a sultry tone.

“h-hello.” he coughs before making the courage to stand up. you stand up straight now, getting off the counter as he awkwardly avoids your piercing gaze.

“d-do you need… anything?” he asks, wincing when he feels you lean forward, to get close to him. oh, you were loving each and every moment you’re torturing him.

“i actually do need something.” you grin, fiddling with his items on the counter.

“y-yeah?” he wants to burrow himself in the ground.

“mhmm, just need… you.” you cooed, then you walk towards where he stands behind the counter.

“i’m h-here.” he gulps when he sees you get close to where he slowly backs away, raising his hands slightly as if you were going to pounce on him, alas his back hits a wall. “do you need anything else? please tell me you need anything else.” he begs and you chuckled.

“mother of kriff, qimir. loosen up a bit.” you laugh as you don’t get much closer to him, to which he sighs in relief but he remains frozen in place. “did my master send a message to you? about my lessons?”

he relaxes then shakes his head. “no. he hasn’t told me anything yet.”

you frown then sigh. “okay.”

the way you sulk has him feeling like a fool now. he hasn’t given you anything new yet for you to learn, since he was more on focusing on mae now. and he kinda needed a bit of distance from you, even though you didn’t know he was the one teaching you. but the frown on your face makes him automatically comfort you in some way.

“hey, don’t be upset. he’ll come around soon.” he says with a soft and gentle tone. you smile at him and he finally detached himself from the wall as he walks towards you. you don’t say anything. still clearly upset. “if it’s of any, he says that you’re improving very quickly.”

“really?” your eyes shine as you look at him, and he reels in to that, his heart thumping.

“yeah… you’re doing great. so, don’t worry.” he smiles, liking the way this turned out than what he had expected.

except… he didn’t expect what happens after.

“oh, you’re so sweet, qimir.” your lashes fluttered, he’s about to say something else yet you immediately placed both of your hands on the side of his face, pulling him down to your level as you place a quick kiss on his lips.

fuck.

“o-oh…” he feels dizzy, utterly too shocked to process that your lips landed on his. but how soft your mouth felt on his makes his cock stir at the moment.

“i’ll see you later, qimir. i’m gonna go now.” you pat his cheeks, letting your hands drop down from his face, and he stumbles forward, but catches himself. your giggle echoes through the shop as he watches you leave him in a troubled state.

you just kissed him.

he just kissed his own acolyte. and he feels disgusted with himself as he glances down to the evident tent on his crotch. he groans loudly, closing his eyes as he wishes to strangle himself from your sweet torture. he tells himself, just a little more, just a little more he’ll get at you back from that quick kiss. how dangerous you are to toy with him, making him feel like an utter fool, as if he’s still a teenage boy, getting hard from a quick peck on the lips.

oh, you were in it now.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

this is so funny to me. 😭

[peachie-bumblebee]

THREESOME HEADCANONS WITH MONTGOMERY GATOR

NSFW MINORS DNI

for my partner whom i love more than anything and who requested more Monty content <3 come get your food babe

CW: JEALOUSY, MARKING, TOYS, FREE USE

SCENERIO- You (reader) and Montgomery Gator are in a relationship when he brings up the topic of a threesome with you. It’s dealers choice- he’ll share you with any of his fellow main stage animatronics.

IF YOU PICK:

FREDDY

Slow turn. Full stop.

“ w h a t . ”

he straight up doesn’t understand. not one bit. he’s also DEFINITELY not jealous (he 100% is) of Freddy. this totally doesn’t bring something out of him.

but seriously though. explain to him why you want Freddy Fazbitch inside of you.

what does Freddy have to bring to the table? he’s not gonna say no- you get to pick whoever, and that’s the deal

but WHY FREDDY?!?!?!?!

don’t count Freddy out though. he’d be taken aback by the request but after much thought and giving his answer, he’s ready to have a dick measuring (figuratively and literally) with Monty and he WILL prove to be competition.

If any returning people are reading this… Competition fic rewrite???

it’s happening in Monty’s room. not Freddy’s. you stay on his turf.

he will constantly try to outperform Freddy. he can’t help himself. he’s gotta prove why he’s the best out of the two of them.

they’re bickering the entire time they’re fucking you, but not in a way that isn’t hot. you’d be sandwiched between them as they say things to each other through gritted teeth, occasionally commenting on how the other should be treating you or touching you or anything.

they’ll only agree on one thing- how good you feel and how fucking hot you are.

Freddy’s NOT cumming inside. Oh no. don’t even think about it. he’d sooner maul him. and when his dick starts vibrating Monty almost goes “FOR FUCKS SAKE” right then and there and flips you over to fuck you into the ground. he doesn’t though. he shows restraint. be proud.

at the end of the day, Monty is gonna prove to Freddy why you’re his and only his. Freddy will leave after aftercare with Monty waving him goodbye with a cocky expression on his face.

but Freddy still knows it’s his claw marks on your hipbones underneath your clothes when you walk by.

CHICA

“Ohhhhkay?”

He wasn’t expecting that. he’s not mad about it but he’s not sure why exactly. out of everyone, he knows the least about Chica. he doesn’t know WHAT to expect.

but you know, at least it’s not Freddy.

when Chica gets the request she pretty much giggles and says “Sure! You’ve got a cute one, i’ve had my eye on them for a while!” which confuses him even more. eye??? on his partner??? wtf???? but now he’s kind of intrigued.

the day of, he’s CERTAINLY not expecting to show up with you to her room and for her to have a chest sitting on the floor. he’s straight up got whiplash when she starts talking about hard and soft limits and negotiations and whether or not you wanna use the sex swing.

she points up and he looks and sure enough- there’s the telltale two hooks bolted into her ceiling for her to string it up. he thinks he’s dreaming.

and THEN she opens the chest which has three unfolding layers and a bottom compartment and he thinks he’s hallucinating. she has 5 different flavors of lube. what the fuck.

the whole time he’s just hugely impressed by her. at one point he straight up starts laughing a little incredulously and goes “Yo Chica- where the fuck didja get all of this shit?” and she just winks at him.

kinda gets nervous when she pulls out the strap?? he starts competing a little bit with her until she looks up at him from under her eyelashes and tells him to cool it.

suddenly Chica is the only person to ever put him in his place besides you.

they both talk about how good you are with your mouth. Chica’s more of the praiser, but Monty’s fully agreeing with some meaner degradation thrown in there. Her degrading is said in the sweetest tone in the world, which gets a different reaction from you than his normally does.

so yes, she teaches him something.

after that, he and Chica are a lot closer than they used to be. they’re not exactly friends, but now they share passing knowing glances and there’s almost a sense of kinship between the two.

and maybe after a while, a note written in pink glitter gel pen that smells like cupcakes shows up on his desk with the question of “Round two?”

and who knows. maybe- just maybe- he feels like he wants to say yes.

ROXANNE

yep. that’s the answer he expected.

he’s cool and calm about this one. he and Roxy are close. they’re the two “new” ones. the original rockers. the ones with attitude. he’s seen the way Roxy’s eyes follow you every once in a while, and he’s not threatened by it.

when he brings it up, they’re both just casually hanging out during a moment of quiet at day. she laughs under her breath, looks at him, smiles, and tells him she’ll be ready whenever.

this is the pair that you’re most likely to get into a fun situation with. If any of y’all remember my fic Animalistic (also open to doing a rewrite) where they borrow Chica’s maze and hunt you down in the dark- it’s that type of shit.

she’ll come to y’all, or y’all will come to her. either way works. this is a meeting between friends.

he’s impressed that she can deliver the amount of intensity that he can. you’re certainly dealing with a lot, and they’re sure to make a comment on how well you handle it.

i think he’d make her watch for a little bit that first time. you’d feel her gaze on you from across the room- two natural predator animals watching you like you’re their next meal. she’ll enjoy the view and the lesson on what you like

they’ll help each other out with pleasing you. if Monty’s inside, Roxy might reach over and put pressure on your lower stomach for him. if Roxanne is putting pressure on your chest with her claws, Monty is behind you running his hands down your ass.

it’s a collaborative effort.

out of all these pairings this is the only one where i can see them doing things to each other. it’s in a very casual way- and no way is Roxanne gonna suck his cock. she especially refuses to get on her knees for him. but he might pinch at her nipple piercings, and she might reach over and give his dick a few strokes.

they might even toss you around a little between them. in the future he might offer you as some stress relief while they hang out. it wouldn’t be a big deal for her to tune her guitar in on the same couch as him while you give him head, or for him to be doing his hair while she fucks your mouth. you’ll get your reward for being good in the end.

it won’t be discussed between the two of them outside of the request and event itself. they’ll perform side by side the same way they always have- and Monty will go to Gator Golf and Roxanne will go racing, and they’ll catch a break in the same unused room every once in a while.

but every so often, he’ll let her know she can stop by.

and you bet your ass she will.

I HOPED YALL ENJOYED THE MONTY CONTENT! as always, reblog with comments, request, and let me know what you thought below <3

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hope you're doing well!! Please take however long you need to get your creative juices flowing <333 may I order a Dogday recognizing Poppy's Angel is actually the former Playtime Co. employee he and many others came to love and cherish due to their kindness? The reader is THAT employee that others envy, many of the toys LOVES them and prefer to be taken care of by them.

Maybe the reader had found out the sinister nature of the company but is understandably afraid to speak up about it as they realized their old co-workers maybe weren't just fired or " quit " out of thin air after all... Perhaps something happened behind the scenes that made the reader " quits " ( Maybe they could be threatened but by a lot of pleading and bargaining, they're spared but has to keep their mouth shut and never come back, otherwise... )

The toys are devastated, angry and just lots of mixed emotions. The reader feeling more and more guilty as they venture through their once happy place and having to harm the ones they once swore to care for.

The rest is up to you! Please again, take care and take your time, all the best in everything <333

I'm So Sorry

Note || oh my hearttt the angstttt, lovely to write this as always. In the form of head canons if that is alright? ^^

WC || 1,035

Sypnosis || you knew otherwise, presumably what went on. You just didn’t mean to harm those around you.

Being aware of something most employees where not had dug you a thorough grave, you didn’t want to leave your beloved friends in the toy factory. A factory misconstrued on a basement of lies and futility you may as well be well over with, and bury it in the ground. Yet, bury in the ground they did. 

Your superiors had learned of your knowledge of these things, and began sending letters. Bit by bit, they had only started off by threatening you; telling you to keep quiet. They didn’t want their precious reputation to be ruined by the likes of you. Still, you continued to stay, you didn’t want to leave your loved ones. All the friends you’ve come to love, eventually becoming like family for you.

You weren’t deaf nor blind to what the superiors at Playtime Co. do, quite literally you’d have to bandage your eyes or plug your ears to ignore all that was happening behind the scenes, you didn’t let it fall on deaf ears however. Eventually soon enough it was eating away at you to actually just quit, just straight up disappear from Playtime Co.’s eyes. 

Among the many toys; Huggy, Kissy, Mommy, and Poppy, hell even CatNap began to wonder where you went. Why did you flat-out depart from working at the Factory so suddenly? One day you were visible and present, the next you had not shown up. Oddly enough they soon had gotten their answer when the Hour Of Joy had occurred, Huggy Wuggy had come across your paper of termination when he had taken upon himself in the act.

So long ago, that was a decade past you left that life behind. You really wished you would have granted them goodbyes before you had gone, yet it seemed you got that chance to do so when you received a paper in the mail that had appeared to be from your co-workers. Word for word you could remember reading, everyone thinks the staff disappeared ten years ago, we’re still here. Find the flower.

The only reason you even had to come back to the factory in the first place was because of the guilt easily overwhelming your logic, you needed answers. You needed to know what happened to your co-workers and all the toys you cared deeply for, yet you had an overwhelming suspicion you really knew what happened to all the staff in Playtime Co. you simply just weren’t present for it. Having technically already left. 

Seeing Huggy Wuggy on the pedestal again brought back some memories for you, he was certainly a hoot. In a way, you really liked him along with the rest of the toys. He was certainly a unique one out of the few–especially along with Kissy Missy. You thought they were a cute pair together, Kissy always managed to calm his murderous tendencies and Huggy was always someone you can count on for a good hug if you ever had a bad day.

Killing is not something you would ever dare think of doing, it was simply not in your mind or blood to do so. So why did you have to resort to killing Huggy? You silently wept, having no time to grieve for him properly as you had to trudge on along to the flower.

Poppy was the last person (or toy, ahem) you expected to find in that case you came across. Now you find yourself in the game station, seeing her get pulled away like that right after she offered to give the code to you had you on the steels of your nerves, you were immediately very close to being in an angry mood. 

Now you had to deal with Mommy’s antics, you felt for her, but you certainly wouldn’t want to go through the trouble of trying to get the code from Mommy. Least of all having to resort to killing her, as she would not listen to your words. Convincing her was impossible to do, trying to make her remember you was a whole different story.

Crap.

Why’d she have to go in a rage? Now she’s dead too, and what in the seven circles of hell did she mean by “HE’LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” You shudder when a mechanical hand comes to pull away Mommy’s corpse, you mentally make a note that is the Prototype. As you’ve come to learn the name after you had scavenged Elliot’s office. 

Soon you learn what Mommy had meant, arguably enough you were angry that Poppy had derailed your only train to get out of Playtime Co. but your heart had ached too much to not finish what you started. Now CatNap was hunting you while you ran around in Playcare, you just never expected to see such an untimely sight that nobody should be put in.

DogDay was hurt, real bad. His legs were severed, he wasn’t long and limber like you remember him to be. His life seemed to be completely drained and sucked away from him, you wince when he moved, movement appeared to be harsh to even put energy into. Your heart bleeds for him, yet you are surprised when he actually recognizes you from before, all those years ago. 

“Angel, you! Y-You're the one that cared for so many of us.” You nod, parental instinct already kicking in to free him from his belts from which he hung from. DogDay doesn’t deserve a fate like this, not then and especially not now. “You don’t need to, leave me here.”

“Oh hell no, you need to live.” You refute, shushing him before DogDay begins to protest. You sigh in relief once he finally is free, as selfish as it may be, he hadn’t ever attempted to kill you. You wanted someone with you that actually remembers you and doesn’t try to gun for you the moment you even step into the vicinity.

Gosh, you really hoped to get this over with. Guilt weighing heavily in mind as you had to kill so many toys, so many that you cared for. 

At Least it meant to be in the name of self defense.

Right?

[moonrisecoeur]

Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Past Astarion Meets His Future

This is a weird ass idea, but I'm doing it anyway. Some time travel fuckery. But the gist is: What if Astarion, decades before the Mind-flayers captured him, was on his last leg? Just on the verge of doing, what was at the time, his only way out. But what if something a little unworldly stopped him?

TW: Suicidal thoughts. M/F, me phoning it in with the dnd lore, Cazador is evil. Like, torture, physically and mentally, manipulation, literal horror shit. He's here so bad things happen to randos and our poor guy. I'm also using this as the backstory again for why Astarion can be in the sun in the future because it's so god damned convenient for drabbles.

~

Astarion watched the crowded bar with focused eyes, a feigned, relaxed smirk on his lips. But even with the acting, he could feel the smile on his face start to tremble, a tell-tale sign that he was truly on his last leg. It had been a long, horrible night, one that had no end in sight. Cazador was in rare form, demanding multiple warm bodies in the span of less than five hours. Astarion wasn't sure what had angered him this time, but he was taking it on the victims in a particularly savage way.

Twice already he had forced Astarion to stay in the room with the poor souls he'd brought back. And then Cazador... made him watch what he did to them. The monster truly had a knack for keeping them alive until the last possible moment. Beating them, assaulting them, laughing at their cries for help. He drank from them last, feasting on their blood until they were just on the edge of death before tossing to them ground. Then Astarion was dismissed with the order to find another.

He hated it. It was the worst part of his nights by far, not including when he was the one being tortured in their place. It didn't help that he always looked at their faces, full of terror and betrayal.

Why did he always have to look? It was a question he knew the answer to. It was because he did that to them. Perhaps not literally, but what was the difference? Astarion had led them straight into his hands.

That was all he did. His entire existence had been reduced to this. A slave, a rat, scuttling through the streets, only capable of inflicting the same torment on strangers. It was a hell that no one should experience, and one that Astarion had been in for nearly 130 years.

How could he continue like this? What was the point? He'd spent so long living on pure survival instinct, waiting for the impossible day where luck would be on his side. Where Cazador would kill the wrong stranger, where the possibility of his murder could become a reality. It was delusional, a poor excuse to continue clinging to this farce of a life.

But there was another option. There always had been. All he needs to do is wander off and wait for the sun to rise, and everything could finally be over. It's far from the first time he's thought about it. But Astarion is nothing but a coward. He'd seen the pure pain and misery of a death of that nature, your insides boiling from within as your skin turned to dust. It was horrifying, one of the worst ways someone could go. And yet... it was starting to seem like the only reasonable option he had left.

Maybe... maybe today would be the day, the first time he'd seen the sun in decades. And the last time he'd ever take a breath.

"Are you alone?" A voice asked, followed by a gentle touch to his arm.

Astarion turned, that same shallow smile instantly reappearing on his face. It was a man, one that was handsome enough for Astarion to probably not feel completely sick during the deed. Then again... he could always ignore them and go back to his final plan.

Or he could wait it out one more day, and pray for a miracle. Astarion nodded towards him, still slightly torn but willing to at least try. It's not like he could go home empty handed if things turned out that way.

"Come to my room?"

Well this was certainly easy. Astarion didn't even have to take the energy to bite out a subpar pick up line. He just followed the man to his room, a plan forming in his head on how he could convince him back to the manor. Not to mention his own escape if he turned out to have less than savory intentions.

The stranger shut the door behind him, sitting on the side of his bed with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes staring straight ahead. Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his own. Great. A weirdo. What a lovely way to end the night, spending it seducing a complete freak. But Astarion had dealt with worse. He perched next to him, crossing his legs as he waited to see where this would go.

"I can see it," He finally said, his voice gravelly as he turned to stare at Astarion.

Astarion raised his brow, wondering for the first time if this particular prey had been partaking in some mind altering substances, "And what exactly are you seeing?"

"You."

Suddenly, the man was wrapping a tight hand around Astarion's wrist, his eyes shining with an unnatural green light, "You're close to the edge. Too close. My lord needs you breathing."

Astarion froze, equally parts horrified and confused at what he was alluding to. How on earth did he know his thoughts? What lord? Or the more likely reality; How wasted could one person be?

Astarion tried to pull back, frowning when he realized the grip on his wrist was iron-clad. He could feel a bit of panic start to swell inside him as he struggled, his voice rising, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let go of me-"

"You must live," He said, the color of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter, near twin flames in the darkness of the room, "There is no other way. Kelemvor has work for you yet."

His confusion was quickly evaporating into rage. He didn't know what this thing wanted from him, nor why the god of death would have any interest in his life. But how dare he insist on Astarion's pathetic existence having meaning. He knew nothing.

His mask was slipping, his righteous anger spilling forth, "Let go. Before I rip your fucking arm off."

But he made no moves to back down. Instead he started to chant, an incantation that had Astarion officially panicking. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful. Reality was shifting right beneath Astarion's feet, morphing into something different. The next thing he knew they were somewhere else entirely, his reality melting into something new right before his eyes.

The entire thing was so shocking that Astarion didn't even realize he was seeing sunlight. Without a single pain. He frantically looked around, the insane stranger's grip finally loosening as he twisted away. They were on a couch, in the middle of what looked like a brightly lit townhouse, voices spilling out of the other room.

Astarion stood quickly, a hiss escaping him, "Where in the hells are we?"

"Nowhere," The man said cryptically, his eyes still aflame, "Neither the present of the future. We are in nothing but a glimpse, taken and made for you."

That did nothing to answer his question. But it did make his mind go into more reasonable directions. This had to be an illusion, there was no other explanation for why he wasn't being burned alive. But an illusion of what? And for what purpose?

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, at a complete loss at what to do. He could try and kill him and pray that that would break the spell. But there was also the chance that he wouldn't live through an altercation with someone who could warp his senses so easily. Or perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare, a horrifying dream he'd cooked up after a night in the torture chamber.

Still at a loss, he settled on asking another question, "Then what is this a glimpse of?"

"Home," The man said simply before slipping off the couch. The cryptic bastard.

He started walking towards the next room towards the unknown voices; Astarion feeling helpless but to follow.

He lingered at the entryway, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing there, cooing at a teary-eyed child she had on her hip. They were right in her line of sight, but she had no reaction to their presence, instead calling out into the other room, "Did you find it yet?"

Another voice called back, oddly familiar as it groaned, "If I had, would I still be on my hands and knees here?"

Astarion stepped forward, more than ready to see if he could enlist the help of strangers for his predicament.

"They can not perceive us," The stranger said, interrupting the call for help that was on the tip of Astarion's tongue, "They are not real. Merely copies of what is, what will be."

"Lovely," Astarion growled out, his fingers itching to fight back against this demon of a man, "Now what in the gods' names does this have to do with me?"

"Watch and you will see," He said, his eyes blazing straight ahead, "The Lord of Death works in mysterious ways."

Astarion's theory of this being a torture-induced dream was becoming more and more believable. He didn't even bother questioning it, not when one more inane answer would send him into a tailspin. Instead he stared ahead, waiting for the moment he would wake up.

The baby was still squirming. Annoying whining sounds spilling from its lips, nearly on the edge of crying. But the woman still had a bright smile on her face, calling back "I told you we should have looked for it last night!"

"Well when she threw it across the room I assumed that meant it had fallen out of favor!" That same familiar voice yelled back, followed by an excited ah-ha! sound.

"Isabella's gonna have a fit, isn't she?" The woman sing-songed, bouncing the child on her hip, "I guess Mommy's going to have to let you start sucking on Daddy's hair again, huh?"

"I heard that!" The muffled voice called back, getting clearer and clearer by the moment. And then another man was walking into the room, grinning ear to ear as he held up a pacifier, "And I will not be forgetting it darling. Don't come crying to me the next time she's gnawing on your nose."

He leaned over to kiss the woman on the cheek before popping the pacifier in the girl's mouth, laughing when it instantly made her calm down. He was tall and pale, an elf with piercing red eyes and pure white hair.

No. It couldn't be-

"There. All better," The man sighed, his voice crystal clear in the calmness of the room, "She has quite the arm for a toddler."

It was a voice that Astarion knew, better than anyone else. It was his own.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as his other self lifted the baby up in his arms, laughing as the child squealed around the pacifier, "She sure is cute for someone who can be such a brat. She takes after her mother doesn't she?"

The woman rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Almost like she couldn't help but do anything else as she watched the duo, "Brave words for someone of your nature. Not to mention how she's your twin."

"Nonsense. She looks just like you, we should have named her Tav Jr," Other Astarion playfully argued, taking his other arm to wrap around the woman's shoulders, "I'm only responsible for the corpse-like complexion."

Astarion stared at them, in complete shock. He didn't-why would anyone or anything want to show him this? It didn't make sense. How would it be possible for him to be in the sunlight? Let alone to have a family. Astarion knew that this had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

But that didn't stop his heart from aching from being forced to witness it. He was too shell-shocked to speak as he followed the duo to the other room, listening as his other self set the child in a crib, still cooing at her, "Auntie Karlach is coming over and you'll need your rest. How else will you be annoying together?"

"Astarion!"

He watched himself laugh as he pulled back, kissing her little forehead before murmuring, "Mommy only says my name like that when she has no comeback, isn't that right princess?"

"You're going to regret telling her everything when she can start talking," The woman, Tav, piped up from next to him, "I hope you realize she'll tell me all of your secrets."

Astarion rolled his eyes before pulling her against him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips, "What secrets do I have that you don't know? Please, enlighten me."

What kind of cruel joke was this? Astarion, the real Astarion, had seen enough. He turned to the bastard that had sent him here, growling through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this to me? Have I not suffered through enough?"

The man offered nothing of value, "We offer you what could be, if you can survive. No more, no less."

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't believe him. He refused to. There was no future for him. There couldn't be. I-It wasn't possible. Not with Cazador looming, not when he couldn't walk in the sun without being burned alive. And especially not when he couldn't even fathom letting himself care form someone enough to have a family with.

But that's what was in front of him. He turned back, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Just in time to see the couple standing there, holding each other while they made out like teenagers.

"I love you," His other self sighed happily, the words free and unbidden from his own lips between kisses, "More than anything my sweet."

"With one exception?" Tav asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Astarion laughed, nodding towards the crib with a knowing grin, "With one exception."

Astarion stared at them, a horrifying feeling starting to grow in his chest.

Hope.

It's the greatest betrayal he could give himself, an eternity's sentence to his own personal hell on the delusional belief that something better would come. He couldn't give in to it. He wouldn't.

But the question still escapes his lips, "How long?"

"Seventy years until you meet," The stranger said, "You must live to see it. Five more until you're here."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as the alternate reality started to fade, the stranger's eyes becoming more dull and human-like by the moment. He stared until the last possible moment, trying to commit it all to memory.

But it was difficult. Like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp, slipping through his fingers. Something wasn't right.

"Will I remember this?" He asked, even though he was already on the edge of forgetting.

"No," The man said simply. They were back in the room, sitting on the bed as though nothing had happened, "But you'll remember the hope."

It was the equivalent of a curse, one that Astarion could barely fathom as magic twisted his memories. But he could feel it there, festering in his heart. The yearning for a new life, stronger than ever.

Astarion left Shar's Caress that night feeling dazed and confused. He barely managed to drag a wasted loner back to the manor with him, preying on him in the back aisles. It was startling to think that he'd almost forgotten his original mission considering the consequences. But whatever happened had... done something to him. Something that he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't see the sun that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Instead he continued to struggle, to suffer at the hands of his sadistic sire with no end in sight. Not until years and years later, when the worst and best thing to ever happen to him occurred. He was kidnapped by mind flayers, but gifted with a disgusting parasite that allowed him to live in the sun.

It wasn't ideal but it was better than being under Cazador's thumb. Not to mention how he found companions relatively quickly. It had been pure luck that you stumbled upon him, even luckier still that you were the type to forgive a man for having a knife to your throat.

He was happy to accompany you. He was happy to do whatever it took to increase his chances of survival, frankly. It helped that he felt... strangely drawn to you. You looked oddly familiar. He didn't know how else to describe it, but it was almost as though he'd met someone from a past life.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // twenty-one

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: oh- you guys wanted them to be happy and in love in peace?? my bad. anyway, good a time as any to wish you guys a happy valentines day! lol

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Where are ya takin' those?" Lennox asks you as you're quickly scanning through your piles of books, pulling out one or two at a time and holding onto them.

"I will bring them to Coryo and Sejanus." You smile to yourself, standing up straight as you finish picking out most of your favourites.

"Coryo." Lennox scrunches his nose up. "Why bother? They can't read that many books in a week. Especially when he'll hardly get his hands off you long enough to do literally anything else."

"Oh, Lennox hush. That is not true." You shake your head pointedly, cheeks burning red.

"It is true."

You had kind of explained to Lennox what happened, that Coryo explained, apologized, and that you were wrong about him. Your mother was right, of course, but Lennox still wasn't buying any of it. Although, he wouldn't deny that you seemed happier.

"Ma!" You call out, coming out of your bedroom with the stack of books in your arms. Trying to talk to Lennox about this would never end in him actually listening to you.

"Just out back, honey!"

You follow her voice out onto the back porch. "Ma, do you know if there's a limit of things you can take on the train?"

She looks up at the question, laughing at the stack of books you have steadied under your chin.

"It's not a passenger train, honey. I don't know." She chuckles. "You want to give him all of those? Won't you miss them?"

"Well..." You think about it, placing them down on the ground to rest your arms for a moment. "I don't know when I'll see him again, and books are expensive to post. Besides, I know they'll be in safe hands, and if I want to read them again I can take them from the library."

Your mom smiles sadly at you. "I suppose that's true."

"Yes." You grin, crouching down to pick the books up again carefully. "I shall go drop these off."

"When will you be back?" She asks, just as you're about to walk back inside.

"Uh, I'm uncertain, but I shouldn't be long! We don't have any plans."

"Maybe you should take your brother with you, he can carry those." She suggests and you sigh.

"No, Ma. He's mean." You pout.

"He only wants to keep you safe. Take him with you, please. He'll be driven mad here waiting for you to get back." She insists and you groan, dropping your head back. "I won't ask again, I promise."

"Okay, Ma." You relent, stepping back into the house and letting the door swing shut behind you. "Len! Ma says you're coming with me!"

"So... how do you know where they are staying?" Lennox asks you, half the books in his arms as you practically skip ahead of him.

"Coryo showed me the other day."

"Oh, he did. Of course he did." You can practically see him rolling his eyes behind your back. "Have you ever considered that he could just be using you? I mean-"

"Lennox, that's not a rational thought process. I have nothing that he would want, he already won his prize." You interrupt. "He just came here to spend time with me, we talked about that when I was in the Capitol."

"I can think of something he wants..."

"Lennox!" You turn on your heel, pointing a finger in his face so fast he almost stumbles as he stops. "That is enough. You have so little trust in me!"

"It's not like we haven't been down this road before!" He argues, and you quickly look around as he raises his voice. The path is deserted this time of day.

"And you don't think me capable of learning?"

"Clearly not! Him and Cole are practically the same person!"

"Don't you say that- I didn't like Cole and you know it." You narrow your eyes at him. "Coryo is different. He wouldn't hurt me."

"You do realize that those are like, the famous last words that every teenage girl ever has said and regretted it, right?"

"Do you just not want me to be happy?" You ask bitterly. That wasn't true and you knew it, but you were upset and you knew it would get your point across. He was being cruel.

"The opposite, actually! I just want you to think realistically about fallin' into the open arms of your 'knight in shining armour' who you've literally had nightmares about for weeks on end."

"I am not a child! I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions." You spit. "He's not using me. He loves me, and I love him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll say that until-"

"Lennox you are such a.. boy!" You groan. "If you must know, if you must insist that I am so stupid, no, I have not slept with him. Is that what you needed so desperately to hear?"

"Gross." He mumbles, shaking his head with disgust. "I don't care what you do with your alone time, actually I'd really rather not know! All I'm saying is you need to be more careful."

"I'm not going to fight with you. You can trust my decisions or not." You grumble, turning back around to keep walking. He follows behind you silently, neither of you saying another word the whole walk there.

You knock on the door, taking a step back while you wait for it to open. You can hear your brother breathing behind you and it's driving you up the wall. You would drop off the books and send him home- maybe you would stay for a while, go for a walk, something.

The door creaks open and you smile when you see Sejanus. "Y/N!" He grins, opening the door wider for you to come in. "Coryo! Your girlfriend is here!" You blush at the term as you walk in past him.

You hadn't discussed any kind of title to what you had, the looming ache of him leaving again so soon holding you back from wanting to mention it. You assumed he didn't want to discuss it either, both of you silently agreeing just to enjoy the time you still had together.

"Y/N/N." Coryo grins, eyes lighting up as he enters the room.

"Hi." You smile, ignoring your brother pretending to gag behind you.

"What brings you?" Coryo asks. "I didn't expect to see you today, I was thinking of coming to see you myself."

"Yes, well, I went through my books and brought some over that I would like you to take." You look back over your shoulder as Lennox is placing the large pile of books on the dining table.

Coryo hums as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "That's a lot of books." He chuckles.

"You don't have to rush through them, keep them as long as you'd like." You assure him. "I just thought they were some you may enjoy."

"I'm sure I'll love them." He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you."

You turn in his arms to look up at him, ticking your head slightly when you hear Sejanus speak quietly. Clearly, not to either of you. "Hey, I just want to show you something. Come outside with me?" And then the door is shut, and you and Coryo are left alone.

"What's he showing him?" You ask, and Coryo watches through the window as his friend and your brother circle around to the side of the house.

"I am not sure." He answers. Immediately, he's thinking of the note Sejanus had scribbled out for himself. It included your brother's name alongside the dates and times, and those dates were creeping up quickly, the seventeenth being in three days- if he had today's date correct.

"Coryo?"

"Hm?" He looks down at you again. "You were thinkin' for a minute there. What's wrong?"

You were always so concerned. All he had done was take a moment to think, and you seemed genuinely worried. Maybe there was something in his face that showcased his confusion. "Nothing, love." He assures you, but you don't seem inclined to believe it. "Okay, uh, just... Come with me." He grabs your hand, watching out the window to make sure they aren't coming back yet as he leads you to his room.

You step into the small space and smile. He wasn't here for long, but the room already had little touches of him. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the walls but the bedside table had the copy of Romeo and Juliet he had got for you, a folded-up note, and a comb for his hair he had yet to put back in his bag despite him not needing it anymore.

You turn to face him after he shuts the door, smiling. He almost looked normal here, now. Like he was getting used to being here with you, living your life. It certainly wasn't like what he left behind in the Capitol, but to you it was special.

"Y/N, I have something to tell you." Coryo says, serious with a lowered voice. He didn't want anyone to hear it, even though you were still likely alone in the home.

"Okay." You reply, feeling your brow crease as you nod at him. His tone makes you nervous- your heart skips a beat in your chest. For a moment, you feel trapped. Tell him what you need. He won't mind.

"Can you... can you move away from the door, please?" You ask quietly before he has the chance to speak again.

He nods, not wasting a second before passing you and you turn with him, now with the door to your own back. "Is that better? You okay?" He asks and you nod.

"Fine just fine." You smile, trying to be reassuring. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Right, so..." You watch as he runs a hand over his head, still in the habit of pushing back his hair. "I was in Sejanus's room the other day, and I found this note. It had two dates and places on it, and then your brother's name and that was it."

"Oh." That's the only thing you can think of to say. "Well... do you remember the places? Maybe he was just trying to remember Len's name?"

"I don't know, I was hoping you'd know more." Coryo sighs, reaching for the bedside drawer. He had written down what he remembered from the dates and times, because he did want to ask you about it. "But he's been leaving and coming back at odd hours, he won't tell me what he's doing. Is he with Lucy Gray?"

"I don't think so." You frown, shaking your head. "But they have been getting close."

"But that doesn't really feel relevant to the note, or your brother."

"No... It certainly doesn't seem that way."

"Here, so... I wrote it down. Uh... The Hob, August seventeenth at ten pm, and broken fence August eighteenth at four am." He reads off what he remembered enough from the note to write down.

You tilt your head.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

"Well, on the seventeenth The Covey is performing at the Hob, so maybe he planned on going to that." You explain. "But broken fence... there's so many of those around here I couldn't tell you. Although, four am is an incredibly odd time to be meeting anyone."

"That's three hours before our train leaves."

"Oh." You shake your head slightly. "That's very weird."

"I know." Coryo sighs. "He won't tell me either, I've asked if he has any plans that night and he said no."

"Well... We should go." You offer. "Tell him that we're going to the meadow that night, and we'll just go after him. See who he's with."

Coryo raises his eyebrows at you. "I didn't take you for the nosy type."

"Well, I'm a big sister at heart and if it possibly involves Lennox I have to know." You argue. "It could be dangerous. He's always had a few friends I didn't love."

"Are you okay to go back there? I can go without you." He offers.

"I'll be fine." You insist. It's more so out of necessity, you have no choice but to be fine. You have to know- you have to make sure your brother and friend are safe.

"Are you sure about this?" Coryo asks, stopping you outside the entrance to the Hob. "If you want to go home I can take you, I just want you to feel safe."

"I know." You give him a small, reassuring smile as you squeeze his hand. "If I need to leave I'll tell you. I promise."

He nods, taking one last look at you to make sure you still seem okay before he pushes the door open and you both head in.

The building is buzzing- as it usually is when The Covey performs. You smile at the music, letting Coryo pull you close to the side wall as he scans the crowded room for his friend.

"Do you see him?" You ask, and he somehow hears you over the music and shakes his head.

You frown, looking around as well. No sign of Sejanus, no sign of Lennox. Lennox isn't even old enough to be here, but he wasn't at home when you left- and it's not exactly hard to sneak in.

"There," Coryo says, nodding in the direction of the opposite side of the room. You follow his eyes, and spot Sejanus talking to someone you recognize. "Who's he with?"

"Spruce." You explain. "His sister is scheduled to be executed tomorrow afternoon." You add, leaning closer so no one else will hear.

You watch as they head toward the back hall, the same one you ran down just a couple of weeks ago. "Should we go after them?" You ask when Coryo doesn't reply and he nods, watching them as he pulls you down the outside wall toward them.

You make it back to the hall without Lucy Gray spotting you, as far as you can tell. Standing outside the door, you hear shouting. You watch Coryo as he clenches his jaw, shaking his head.

"Wait out here." He tells you, dropping your hand.

"No- I, I should come." You shake your head and he grabs your cheeks, lifting your head to look into your eyes.

"I don't know what they're fighting about but it doesn't sound good. Wait out here." He's stern as he gently brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. "Listen to Lucy Gray, just watch the door. Okay, love?"

"Okay." You agree quietly, slightly nodding.

He kisses your forehead before letting you go, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.

You chew your nails as you wait with your ear to the door, trying to decipher who is inside with them. It's hard to tell with all the shouting going on, but you hadn't heard Lennox.

"Y/N." You hear your name, quickly jumping back from the door and turning to face the voice. "What are you doin' here?"

You chew your cheek, trying to avoid Cole's gaze. "Just waitin' for Lucy Gray." You lie, looking down.

"Ah." He hums, nodding slightly as he steps closer to you. "Where's your purebred Capitol attack dog?"

"What are you doing here, Cole?" You ask, ignoring his question.

"We got leave passes for the weekend." He answers. "Hoff said something about 'boosting morale'."

"That's nice." You smile nervously. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so..."

"You aren't." He smirks, tilting his head as he looks down at you. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know that, right?"

"I know." You say softly.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Cole..." You sigh, looking down again. "We talked about this I just... We're too different. I'm sorry."

"Oh, because you have so much more in common with that prick- right?" He laughs sarcastically. "He's Capitol! He'll never know you like I do. Honestly, I'm offended that you'd choose him over me."

"I'm not choosing him over you." You frown. "I already knew we wouldn't work before I ever met him. This is very, very different. I'm sorry."

"You are? Oh, I'm glad to hear that." He nods and you eye him suspiciously. "Maybe then after he leaves, you'll give me another chance. He's taking the next train, tomorrow morning, right?"

"I can't do that, Cole." You shake your head.

"That's an awful shame." The evil smile on his face doesn't fade. "I'll have no choice but to report your father."

Your heart drops. "My Pa hasn't done anything."

He sucks in through his teeth. "Well, suspicion is enough to charge, and I don't know... I get a bit of an off feeling from him. It's actually my duty to report any suspicions we have, so honestly I've been protecting you, and I'd like to keep doing that, you know?"

You finally picked up on what he was saying, and immediately could taste the bitterness of fear on your tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to linger in the air.

"So? Do we have a date?"

"Sure." You mutter through gritted teeth.

"Sweet, thanks for finally coming to your senses, bug." Cole smiles, patting your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!" He calls back as he walks away.

You don't even care what's going on inside, you can't be alone in this dark hallway anymore.

You pull the door open and rush in, but you're quickly stopped by Coryo's arm as he takes a few steps back, pushing you behind him. "What- what's-"

"She can't be in here!" Spruce spits at Coryo as you look past him, gasping at the sight of several guns on the table and the one in his arms.

"Listen, she's not involved." Sejanus promises.

"Her brother is gonna help us, it's cool. She won't tell." You look at Billy Taupe when he speaks, eyes wide.

"No- this is crazy." Mayfair shakes her head. "She's not coming with us. We're not bringing her or Lucy Gray. I'm leaving."

"No, they aren't coming. I just said I'd ask. Now she knows, so she probably should." Billy Taupe replies and your eyes flick between the couple. You had no idea what was going on, where he wanted you to go, and what this had to do with Sejanus or your brother.

"No! My daddy will have you all strung up for this." She throws her hands up and starts to walk toward the back door. Your heart is pounding in your chest as Coryo reaches for one of the guns.

"Don't!" You cry out, forcing yourself in front of him just as he aims the gun at her. At you.

"Y/N, you gotta move right now." He says quickly, and you hear her footsteps stop behind you.

You can only look at his eyes as they flit between anger, instinct, and fear.

"Coryo." You say, voice cracking and it's only then that you feel the tears dampening your cheeks.

The barrel of the gun is under an inch from your chest, and you can see his hands shaking as he holds the heavy weapon in his hands. He won't shoot you- he won't.

The world around you seems to blur as your focus narrows on the overwhelming sense of fear gripping you tightly. Right now, if someone asked where you were, you wouldn't know. You just as easily could have been standing in the arena. 

He doesn't dare move as he stares at you, eyes wide. He doesn't want to hurt you, but that's why he has to do this. He can't let whoever that girl was have you killed. Still, you stand in front of him. Shaking, but not moving. This was the girl he knew from the games who offered a rose to Coral who in the moments before was threatening her. The girl who so thoroughly hated the idea of bringing harm to others that her own mind blocked it out completely and replaced the story with something else. This was the girl who was willing to give up her life just to be able to give the other tributes an honourable burial that she knew they wouldn't otherwise receive. 

The girl who saw him kill another boy and despite all of that, still had it in her heart to forgive him.

You don't even hear Mayfair laugh and begin to walk away again, you only hear the gunshot that follows. You jump, immediately looking down to assess the damage. Coryo wasn't pointing the gun at you anymore, he had dropped his arms in defeat- and you had mistaken the loud noise for an impact you were expecting.

He didn't shoot you.

"What did you do?" You turn as Billy Taupe screams, eyes widening as you see Mayfair bleeding out on the floor.

"Oh god- oh god..." You mumble, stepping back until you bump into Coryo. He drops the gun back onto the table, pulling you into his arms.

"Don't look, don't look..." He tells you, turning you and pressing your head to his chest so you can't see anymore even if you wanted to.

You can't even make out what Spruce and Billy Taupe are yelling at each other over the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. Until the second gunshot.

You must be sobbing now, clinging onto the front of Coryo's shirt so tight your knuckles are burning. "You're okay, it's okay." He tells you. You don't know what's going on- you don't want to.

Coryo stares between Spruce and the body of Billy Taupe now slumped down next to Mayfair. He needs to get you out of here, now, but he doesn't know how. This has to be handled first.

He's letting you go only to grab your cheeks and get you to look at him. "Go back outside, you have to go back outside, I will handle this."

You can't even speak- can't even move. You try and shake your head. You couldn't leave him, not right now. You feel like you'd die the moment he ceased touching you.

The door slides open again, followed by an angry voice you know too well. "What the fuck?" Cole must have been watching you. He must have heard.

"No..." You cry, shaking your head. If Cole saw this you were absolutely all screwed.

"What the fuck did you do?" Cole shouts again. "Nobody fucking move! You're all-"

Another gunshot. Silence.

"Oh no, no, no..." You try and look behind Coryo but he doesn't let you, holding your head firmly into his chest again.

"It's okay. Don't look." He says again, staring at Sejanus who looks like he's panicking just as much as you are now.

"Why'd you tell them where we were? Now you've gone and screwed us all over! I just shot a peacekeeper!"

"He didn't tell anyone." Coryo defends him. "We followed him, Cole followed us."

"Fuck." Spruce sighs, throwing the gun onto the pile of others still laid across the table. "We gotta bump this up. We have to get Lil now, go tell Lennox to get the stuff and hide it for us like we said."

"Get rid of the guns and pretend this never happened."Coryo hisses. "And leave the kid out of this. It's too late for whatever plan you had now- we don't know where he is."

You can't even hear a single thing going on anymore. You're actually sure you might faint.

When you go from shaking to completely still in Coryo's arms, he knows you have. "Shit..." He mumbles, trying to steady you as your knees give out. He quickly readjusts so he can lift you with an arm under your knees and the other under your back.

"I gotta get her out of here and you have to move quick. Get rid of the guns. Now." He instructs, and surprisingly, Spruce listens. He throws the weapons into a bag and steps over the two bodies by the door before leaving.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Sejanus cries, gripping onto his hair and breathing heavily. "No one was supposed to get hurt!"

"Sejanus, for once just shut up!" He grabs his attention from where his friend is staring at the dead couple, clearly losing his mind. Coryo doesn't have time for this- an unconscious girl in his arms and his friend looking like he's about to be in the same state in a matter of moments.

"It's all my fault..."

"All of this is your fault!" Coryo agrees, looking around at the mess of the room. "It's only gonna get worse if you don't pull yourself together."

"Oh, god..."

"If you breathe a word now, all three of us are finished. Just like in the arena. We came here to see her. If we go down, she goes with us." He holds you tighter to his chest as your hair falls over the curve of his arm, your head limp against his skin. "So now we have to go back to the house, gather all our shit, and act like nothing is wrong. We have to board the train tomorrow like nothing is wrong. Do you understand?"

"I- I don't know." Sejanus sniffs.

"Hey." Coryo says, taking a few steps closer. "Look at me. You have to pull it together. I know you wanted to go with them but now they aren't going. We've got to stick together. You won't get in trouble. I won't let anything happen to you, but you have to listen to me." It was obvious that it didn't matter that none of you pulled the trigger- being in the room was enough; especially when a peacekeeper had been murdered. If you were caught, you'd all be executed. "We're brothers, yeah? Brothers. Whatever you've done, I swear I will keep you safe."

"Brothers. Yeah." Sejanus mutters, still obviously in shock.

"Those guns were the only loose ends besides the four of us, so we're gonna be okay as long as we leave tomorrow." He breathes. "Okay? Not a word."

"O-Okay." Sejanus nods slightly, trying to keep his focus on the boy in front of him rather than their unconscious friend in his arms.

Coryo tried to give him a reassuring smile, but inside he was panicking too. They could escape it all on the train tomorrow, but now came the problem of what to do with you.

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[yuyusgirlie]

[11:37 pm]

Family chaos has never been your favourite thing to deal with. Family chaos during the planning of your own wedding? Arguably 15 times worse. The past year has been a mess of decisions and people over your shoulder trying to give their thoughts where they were most certainly not welcome. 

They say that your wedding is supposed to be the couple’s special day where you can celebrate your love, but so far it has been literally anything but that. It has been a chance for your family to comment on your decisions and try to convince you that their opinion is the correct one. 

The venue, the music, the clothing, the cake, the food, the guest list, everyone thought that they had a say about your “special day,” and with it finally being only 2 weeks away, it feels like everything is coming to a melting point. 

You walk into your room, exhausted and drained from the bridal shower you just came from. You decided to invite your close friends and family to the event, but the lunch of course had to feature classic family commentary. First it was about your choice of clothing for the event, then it had to be about the fact that your fiance was there and “that wasn’t very traditional,” but it was the comment your cousin made complaining about the restaurant choice that was your final straw. 

Once the lunch was over you quickly thanked everyone and immediately walked to the car, waiting for your fiance to drive you both home. You didn’t talk to anyone, staying silent all the way home. You were fuming, replaying the events of the day in your head, trying to find any way you could avoid them moving forward if you wanted to at least try to enjoy your wedding. 

Now you lay on your bed, your hands over your face, trying desperately not to cry. You hear the soft footsteps of your fiance walking into the room, softly closing the door behind him. You focus on taking deep breaths in and out as you feel the spot on the bed beside you dip as he takes a seat next to you. He gently puts his hand on your knee, softly letting you know that he is here for you when you are ready. 

Jihoon always had a way of being able to ground you and bring you peace without even saying a word. Just him being there brought you a sense of peace that no one else in your life ever could. 

His thumb on your knee was drawing comforting circles as he silently supported you. 

“I’m sorry this is happening my love.” 

You moved your hands from your face and turned to look at the man sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. Jihoon looked back at you with a soft smile, one of sympathy and warmth. 

You sat up on the bed and moved to rest your head on his shoulder as his hand remained on your leg. “It’s not your fault, none of this is, it’s all just my family and their stupid need to say something all the time. I’m sorry you’re marrying into this.” you say with a tired chuckle. 

“Don’t apologize for anything like that, I’d ask you to marry me every day no matter what the circumstances as long as I get to be with you.” 

You sigh against his shoulder, the threat of tears returning. You remain silent for a bit trying to decompress from the day. 

“What if we elope.” 

You sit up straight to look at Jihoon in the face. Unsure of if you heard him right you have to ask for clarification. “What?” 

“What if we just elope. You and me. Now. It will be our moment, it might take off the pressure from the wedding. I don’t care about a wedding, I care about being with you.” 

You look at him and try to think about it. It’s always been just you and him. You have been dealing with so many voices related to the wedding you almost forgot why you were even doing it in the first place. It was always about Jihoon and getting to spend the rest of your life by his side. Supporting him and him supporting you through everything. 

“I just think that if we take meaning away from the wedding then it might be a little easier to handle.” His hand moves from your knee to your hand that was resting in your lap. He picks up your hand and brings it to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. “What do you say?” 

The suggestion makes sense. It more than makes sense. It feels right. “Let’s go get married.”