#she is the devil on my shoulder and in my DMs

[a-gay-bloodmage]

"Against the Kitchen Floor" and Omri de Riva

At the urging of @queenofangrymoths, I have decided to post my song analysis of Will Wood's "Against the Kitchen Floor" as listened to through the lens of Omri de Riva, my dwarven Crow Rook.

His relationship with Neve, Scheherazade de Riva (QoAM's Rook), his mother, Lucanis, Viago, and himself, all come together to form a perfectly wonderful mush of self-loathing.

Hope you enjoy!

Trigger warnings for: discussions of suicidal ideation, past sexual assault as a minor, minor self-harm, child abuse, and general murder and violence.

Omri de Riva “Against the Kitchen Floor” Analysis

I don’t owe you my heart And I don’t owe you my body But you should know that I’m sorry For being careless with you

Omri tries, very hard, to see himself as a person. But it doesn’t really work. Usually, he sees himself as a thing to be given up for Contracts. The concept of I don’t owe you my heart / body is something that he tries to tell himself, but the sentiment usually rings pretty hollow. Leaving the Crows and being a part of the Veilguard is a massive culture shift for him. Being on “equal” grounds with people is strange. Neve, especially, isn’t his master. He doesn’t owe her his heart and body. Despite this, he still feels responsibility for potentially damaging her. It isn’t his place to be in a relationship with her, as he thinks it will only end in disaster. Despite that, he still went for it. He, as I said in “Fledgling,” kind of operates generally on the idea of a Crow takes what he can get.

Lord knows I owe you more Than I’m pretty sure I ever could give anybody But I can’t pin down what normal people want from foreign objects Bottom shelf erotic products like me

Neve, along with Varric and Harding, essentially freed him from slavery, and they don’t even know it. He has no idea how to make it up to them, if that���s even possible. Especially without admitting to his status within the Crows as a slave, a fact that he does find shameful. He has no idea how to express this gratitude to “normal people” like Neve. Neve being a Shadow Dragon, a liberator of slaves from Tevinter, only further complicates things. The concept of being a bottom shelf erotic product is both a dig at his own self-worth and his height. He is an object to be used for the pleasure and satisfaction of others, and he’s literally so low, physically, that most people don’t even see him amongst the dirt of the floor. 

So, I could hold your hand, but keep you at arm’s length Or hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake Less rare than scarce, less diamond than rough Unlikely to be more than just the coal you fail to crush, and

He does really want a relationship with Neve, but he can’t allow himself to really pull her tight to him in any way other than physically. And, even then, it’s only when they’re alone. He sees their relationship as mutually physical, but romantically one-sided. He fully assumes that she’ll end up with Lucanis. And why wouldn’t she? He’s more attractive than Omri is, higher-ranking, and human. 

The idea of hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake is a reference to suicide for him, since he’s absolutely passively suicidal. While he won’t go out of his way to kill himself, he won’t consciously try too hard to stop his death from happening. Just put him somewhere to rot and nobody will ever come and get him. He’s felt this way for as long as he can remember. 

The idea of being less rare than scarce is interesting, because he is rare. He’s not only a dwarf, a race with a very low population, but he’s a dwarven Crow. Those aren’t common. However, he’s also a casteless dwarf and a slave. He’s not a diamond, he’s just the dirt around it, and no amount of molding or pressure will ever turn him into something beautiful. His entire life, people have attempted to crush him, and yet he’s still alive but not any prettier. He doesn’t know why. 

I swear, I’m really trying Get it together, [Omri], know and do better It just don’t come natural to me to think that you’d want me for mе I swear, I’m really trying Oh, I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet

Especially after meeting Sherry—when he was twenty-four and she was twelve—he really does want to be a good person. The problem is that he doesn’t think he’s capable of it. He was too broken by his path to becoming an assassin. He bought into the Crow propaganda, into Viago’s grooming, until Sherry shook him out of it by the virtue of just being an innocent little girl. He thinks that being non-human is a stain against him. He’ll never fit into society, which he sees as a significant hurdle to not only being accepted as good, but accepting himself as good. 

I still don’t know who you are I only know that I’m still lonely That morbid sort where even company can’t cure me And the more you reassure, the less I trust

Omri feels like he can never truly know another person. Not entirely. Especially not Neve. She’s too… above him. She’s too reserved, too smart. And it’s isolating. He assumes that Neve is able to connect far better with someone like Lucanis, someone who shares something closer to her social status. Omri has this deep-seeded sense of loneliness that will never go away. He’s never had a friend, he was only treated truly kindly once before meeting Sherry. And the more people reassure him that they like him, the less he trusts it. After all, Viago told Omri that he cared for him, that Omri was his First. And that was all just a lie to keep him wrapped around Viago’s finger. 

But still you gave me your heart I only gave you my body Honestly thought nobody’d want it, let alone notice it’s gone And so I left it home, but now, now, now, now

Omri, as Neve starts potentially falling for him, feels deeply guilty. He doesn’t think she deserves to be in a relationship with an empty husk of a man, someone who isn’t capable of, in his mind, actually loving someone back. He can give her his body, sure, but that’s always been the case for the last twenty years of his life. He’s never seen himself as desirable, so thinking that Neve desires him, genuinely, and isn’t just using him as an outlet frightens him. 

I keep a locket with a picture on the back of my head Oh, monkey-wrench my side view mirrors, ghost my friends I’ve lived more lives than enough, I haven’t died quite as much But I’m not a real person, just the shit you can’t make up, and

Omri is constantly watching over his shoulder. He’s paranoid that the Crows will come back to get him. He has to cut off all contact with people to keep them safe. Sherry is, potentially, only alive because he’s not around her any more, after all. He does think he’s lived more lives than enough, yet hasn’t died enough. He’s lived through being homeless as an infant, basically homeless in Kirkwall, being a groomed slave, being a slave that was aware of that grooming, being, essentially, a mourning father after the loss of Sherry, and then being Rook. He, somehow, has lived through all of this. He doesn’t think he should have. Again, he barely sees himself as a person, and the idea that he’s just the shit you can’t make up makes sense for someone constantly being berated for his “unbelievably stupid decisions” by Viago. 

I swear, I’m really trying I’m just as exposed if I take off my clothes When we make the closest thing to love that I’m capable of And I don’t know why you would care But I’m really trying Oh, I’m sorry, I promise, I’m doing my best I just haven’t learned how to be human as you are yet

He truly doesn’t think he’s capable of making love due to his awful sexual history. He doesn’t know what consensual sex looks or feels like. Making love is something that should be reserved for the people who are capable of having people fall in love with them and then returning that love. He doesn’t think that’s him. Again, he thinks being non-human is a stain against him. 

Did I really have any of that gravity? Maybe you’re quicksand Because I really couldn’t tell How deep my footprints went The vertex of my redemption arc The searching on that virgin heart I’m catatonic in your arms Crying, “How did I cause so much harm?”

He thinks that, by “leading Neve on,” he’s irreparably damaged her. By sleeping with her and playing into this romance, he’s tread all over her heart when he didn’t ever mean to leave a footprint. The idea of him having a virgin heart is mostly sarcastic, as he thinks that his old infatuation with Viago as a teenager has forever stained him, making him incapable of having that redemption arc. The use of catatonic, specifically, makes sense for Omri. He doesn’t cry. Instead, he just feels dead and hollow and full of regret for hurting the people he never meant to hurt. He really is a Crow. All he knows is how to harm people. 

I’m down, pounding my head against the kitchen floor Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours Don’t say “I’m sorry, but this can’t go on” I know you’ve got scars of your own But hide my knives before you go I’ll either live or die alone

The idea of pounding my head against the kitchen floor checks for him. He’s far more inclined to enact physical violence on himself when he’s upset, as that’s simply what he’s used to. He was not only hit by his masters in the Crows, but by his mother when he was young. Apologizing for my life makes perfect sense, as he’s always been trained from birth to see himself as a curse upon others. His gender literally caused his former noble of a mother to be thrown out of Orzammar. Neve’s romance involves her not wanting to commit because she’s afraid of intimacy, and Omri almost resents that she is the one to voice it when, in his mind, she’s a million times more capable of being in love than he is. He knows there’s something that’s causing her to hold back, but he doesn’t know what. He knows for a fact, however, that he’ll try to keep her as long as he can, even if that means hiding [his] knives, aka, the reality of what it means for him to be a Crow. 

I swear, I will die trying I’m still in the process, but I’m making progress I promise, I honestly wanna prove improvement’s possible I swear, I’m so fucking sorry I’m not a good person, I’m barely a person at all But someday I’ll be perfect, and I’ll make up for it all

Omri is very, very willing to throw his life away for the sake of those he cares about. It’s not a large number of people, but it’s deeply significant to him. He wants, so badly, to be a good person, but he doesn’t think it’s possible. I’m not a good person, I’m barely a person at all is what would go through his head every time Sherry tried to insist that he’s good. He never believed it. It’s sunk in so deeply that, even if every member of the Veilguard thinks that he’s good, it’s not enough. Maybe, one day, but… not yet. But maybe, once he’s good, it will make up for the fact that he’s a filthy murderer. 

And write a fucking song about it ‘Cause it has to be all about [Omri’s] fucking drama Goddamn it! Sorry Fuck, I’m sorry

Omri, after thinking about all of this, just… hates himself for it. He’s survived by making himself the center of attention in order to distract from what he’s really doing. Playing the part of an opera-loving clown to hide his intellect and planning. And yet, despite this tactic literally keeping him alive, whenever it comes to bringing attention to himself for a non-murderous reason, he feels completely undeserving of that spotlight and attention. Especially if it brings sympathy along with it. He doesn’t deserve to be regarded as a person, and his problems are not worthy of being taken seriously. He feels selfish. 

[g1bsongirl]

𖤐⋆.˚  STATUS  ... open .ᐟ 𖤐⋆.˚  LOCATION  ... anywhere outside baybee .ᐟ

what was the saying — music on, world off ? certainly applied to iris. the girl was in a trance, fully encompassed by the ‘smooth’ sounds of 100 gecs frying her eardrums. one notch up and crimson would’ve no doubt dripped from her ears. a grimace contoured her features as soon as her playlist shuffled. who the hell snuck ‘sail’ by awolnation into her rotation ? before she could even hit next, the wheels of her rollerskates swept up from beneath her. blunt force caused her body to stumble back. looked like something out of a cartoon, had it been, a giant text would’ve appeared in a decorative bubble … ‘ boing ! ’ headphones lay beside her, the obnoxious beat blaring. perhaps the song was a warning sign ? should’ve listened. instead, she accepted defeat, laid there and took a gander at the sky. “ s’nice day — huh ? ” head tilted as she squinted, trying to catch a better glimpse without mutilating her pupils. “ is it just me or does that cloud look like billy the puppet ? ” wasn’t her first time falling and it certainly wouldn’t be her last. “ y’think you could spare me a hand ? ” she extended an arm out, fingers splayed, and offered a lax grin.

[munsonsmixtapes]

You'll Fit Right In

shy!eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is super nervous to meet your parents, but it turns out he has nothing to worry about as they have the exact same interests that he does

cw: Eddie has anxiety

this is a request made by @bellasm3lla in a comment on this post

You and Eddie stand on the porch of your childhood home and you can see that he's panicking. This dinner has been planned for weeks now and he's super nervous to meet your parents. Adults aside from Wayne don't seem to like him because he plays DnD and they all seem to think he's some sort of devil incarnate even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

Eddie is nothing but sweet and kind and you really hoped other people were able to see that instead of listening to silly rumors. You've always seen him for who he is and know that your parents will love him.

You've tried to tell him that they're nothing but chill, but you totally understand why he's so anxious. You've tried multiple times to give him an out, but he wouldn't take it. He just told you that he could handle it and that he wanted to at least try before he gave up.

So you're knocking on the door as he's holding onto your other hand for dear life as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inching his face towards your neck to hide as the door opens.

But as soon as it opens, his ears pick on some music playing at a loud volume. He immediately recognizes the song as Gypsy by Dio. And that's when he pulls away from you just in time to see your mom's Metallica t-shirt. Now he suddenly doesn't know why he was so nervous.

Your mom is quick to pull him into a hug and he's quick to respond, squeezing her just as tight before she pulls away, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, it's so lovely to meet you," she gushes as she pulls him into the house, you and your dad following.

"Sorry we're late, we were cleaning up our DnD session we had earlier," your dad apologizes and Eddie's head whips around to you, silently asking you why you hadn't told him about any of that. All you had said was that they were cool. But you had told him exactly what they were into and he would just tune you out because he had convinced himself that he hadn't wanted to hear it.

"You guys play DnD?" He asks, suddenly feeling all of his nerves melt away as your mom leads him into the living room where everything from their session was still set up.

"Every week. Do you play?" Does he play? Your dad might as well have asked him if he breathed.

"I do," Eddie nods. "I'm actually the DM of my own club."

"I knew I had a good feeling about you," your mom pinches his cheek. "Can I get you a drink, Eddie? We've got some beers in the fridge."

"Sure," Eddie nods and your parents get your drink order before they both disappear into the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

He leans over to you and you give him a knowing smile as you know exactly what he's going to say.

"You didn't tell me that your parents were so cool," he whispers and you just giggle in response.

"I actually did, but you wouldn't listen to me." Eddie just waves you off as your parents as your parents enter the living room once again with your drinks and all Eddie can think about it just how he's going to fit in there and that he really was nervous for no reason. Because there, he feels right at home.

[tojiscrack]

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

summary: 13.6k words — you and your friends have returned from a vacation trip in italy! but it’s now time to go back to school and kick start your junior year of high school, but straight off the bat, megumi finds himself immersed in gossip he's usually never bothered by…

notes: welcome to the first ever main-plot-starting chapter of liar, liar! *cheers in the background* FINALLY! we’re here. isn’t it ironic how this time last year i was writing the first ever chapter of liar, liar, and now an entire year later, i’m kick starting the main plot? 😧 time flies… here's my halloween gift to you all! (it's easily my most favourite holiday EVER). and it's also been a week since my birthday, ty for the wishes, kind messages, dm's, asks, tips, etc!! now enjoy this chapter <3

tw: swearing, gossip, mention of violence, threats, and that’s it lmao

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

september 2019 - junior year

"everyone open theirs at the same time, got it?"

"but mine's got tape on it!"

"shut up, yuji."

"i already opened mine."

you dived across the table to snatch the paper out of megumi's hands, throwing him a look of irritation because of how he'd spoiled the entire thing. it only irked you further when he had the audacity to fix you with a glare himself.

"you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" you snapped, placing his timetable face down on the table, refraining from looking at it before he could despite the devil on your left shoulder whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

you gave in and flipped the sheet over. he ruined the order of things anyway, what was the point of adhering to the rules he never listened to to begin with?

"megumi!" you gasped, feeling enraged as you stared down at his timetable.

out of the nine classes you had, pre-calculus was the only one you shared with megumi. to your disbelief, you didn't even share homeroom, so the only other chances to see him were during study hall, break, and lunch, which felt far too short to make up for the overwhelming imbalance.

it didn't make sense, now that you analysed it further. with all the classes available, how was it that pre-calc was the only one you had in common? you felt a nagging frustration, trying to wrap your head around the fact that your paths would now cross so little this year despite the fact that you used to be attached to the hip before. every other subject offered countless opportunities to stick together, yet here you were, navigating a maze of schedules that kept you apart.

you caught yuji and nobara in your peripheral vision, both comparing their own timetables and bickering simultaneously.

megumi was a genius, extremely academically gifted, especially in stem. when it came to any branch of math, the kid aced every exam effortlessly.

and you weren't the worst at it, some would argue..?

the more you thought about it, the more bewildered you became — how could you end up sharing the one class that exposed all your weaknesses, the same one that he excelled in?

he flinched when your voice suddenly rose once more:

"you're taking ap stats?" you demanded, only just realising that he had one extra lesson than you, yuji, and nobara. it was at the very top of the table, labelled 'period 0'.

"don't give him an opportunity to act more pompous than he already is," scoffed nobara, looking uninterested. you did not comment on how she still peeked over the sheet when she thought you weren't looking.

"wow," yuji began, looking pleasantly in awe at megumi's hefty schedule. he leaned back in his seat, careful not to pull himself too far back in the event that he might fall off. you secretly wished that he would, if only to stifle your current shock. "so you'll start the day earlier... won't you be exhausted when we get to football practice?"

that was a good question. since coach yaga had stubbornly given both megumi and yuji spots on the school's football team, it had since been announced that practice would take place every day after school unless otherwise mentioned. with megumi's mornings starting earlier than the rest of you, and his days finishing later, he was bound to be torn down with exhaustion. although he acted like a robot all the time (eat, sleep, make a rude comment about you, repeat) he was still a human who needed rest. more school meant more social interaction. more social interaction meant a drained megumi. things would only go south from there.

he shrugged at the question.

"i'll be fine," he answered, unbothered.

you disagreed. "you'll die —"

"— revive me with your mermaid abilities then —"

you hoped you pinched him hard enough to bruise.

"wait," you said, halting your attack on him with a slow frown. he took the opportunity to rip your hands off his ribs and shuffled away from you. you ignored him, sliding down to sit hip-to-hip with him. "if you do ap stats in the morning, we can't walk to school together."

for the nth time that day, megumi snatched back his timetable from you.

"good luck," he said, eyes half-lidded with that ever-present air of indifference. "you cross the road like you have nine lives."

"you basically just told her that you wouldn't care if she died," yuji intervened, quick to jump to your defence despite the many times you would argue with him, too.

you glanced at him, eyes naturally drifting down to the obvious tan line on his neck from the vacation the four of you had attended with your family in the summer.

nobara scoffed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before pointing, accusatory, at megumi. "this is what happens when you hype him up," said nobara, her finger jabbed at him with enough aggression, any outsider would probably assume that he'd committed blasphemy — you liked to think he had.

"i'm surrounded by idiots," you thought you heard him mutter, his voice low enough to almost go unheard, though the faint tightening of his jaw gave him away.

waving his timetable at him, you unknowingly creased the smooth sheet. "speak up, porcupine."

"do you hate it when he mumbles, mother gothel?" said yuji, randomly turning on you instead.

your head might have had a fifty-fifty chance of snapping right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to face yuji with a glare. of all the things he could have thrown at you, why did he pick a tangled reference, one that barely bit at your core?

"first of all, what the hell?" you responded, visibly and audibly startled. "secondly, you were supposed to be on my side —"

"yeah i know," he replied, breaking out of his character to speak to you in that usual, gentle and low voice of his, the one you were much familiar with, "but i just remembered that megumi might leave me behind after football practice, so i can't take any chances."

"you're a traitor!"

"it's every man for himself!"

to no one's surprise (except for yuji's), nobara, seizing the moment you had created, sent his head crashing forwards against the table. she'd apparently been waiting for the perfect opportunity for it, and you had handed it to her on a silver platter.

"y/n, swap," she said, sliding her timetable down and waiting for you to make the exchange, barely registering the groan of pain and annoyance yuji had followed her demand with.

you shrugged and complied, exchanging yours for hers with pursed lips.

as you scanned nobara's timetable, you found yourself pouting less, pleased. half of your classes aligned perfectly with hers, from pre-calc to english — even p.e and homeroom, matched. the thought of surviving junior year alongside nobara was a hopeful silver lining. leaving megumi behind wouldn't be too bad, you noted in your had, glancing at his unnecessary scowl.

maybe this was done for a reason. if you spent too much time with him, the grumpy attitude would probably become contagious and you'd be the unfortunate one to catch it.

you watched him glare at nothing.

yeah, you definitely didn't want to become that.

"but we all have gojo at some point, right?" said nobara, her voice drawing your mind away from the undiagnosed disease your mind had planted megumi with.

you lined each of your timetables at the centre of the white, circular table, flicking yuji's head away to create more room for it. he lifted himself back up, scowling when you flicked at his hands next.

"we're all in different classes with him," you commented idly, tilting yuji's timetable a little further to read it more accurately.

"oh, you and i have physics with him together," you informed him, content and satisfied.

"hmph," yuji grunted, rubbing his forehead and throwing dirty looks at nobara from the side. despite this, however, you could see the way his ears had straightened up at your comment, also seemingly pleased with the shared class — it reminded you off the ash-blonde puppy you had seen last year, when you were looking for totalityfor megumi's birthday.

"i wanted ieiri," said megumi, taking his timetable back and glancing down at it, then to yuji's, and back again, seemingly making a comparison in his head.

"we all have her for chem," said nobara, leaning the upper half of her body over the table to glance over his sheet. "don't you?"

"yeah," he confirmed, sounding displeased. "and satoru for every other science. ap bio first period — no one needs to hear his voice that early in the morning."

yuji beamed, taking his paper away from the line of your timetables you'd created with it and shoving it down towards megumi's side of the table.

"don't worry megumi!" he'd said, his pearly white teeth showcased as he grinned. "we have ap biology together!"

megumi's eyes slowly shifted from yuji's overly enthusiastic face to his timetable, and then back again, completely unamused. his expression didn't change, and no words were exchanged as he remained deadpanned, yuji patiently awaiting his response; the excited sparkle in his eye dimming as each second went by in silence.

megumi blinked twice, offering a dry, "great. just what i needed."

yuji took that personally.

"hey —"

"gojo might be incredibly annoying," said nobara, cutting through yuji without a care in the world; she was frowning down at her own timetable, brows furrowed, "but i've never failed a class of his. ever." she looked up at you all with a grim expression over her face. "don't tell him i said that."

"you've got a point," you added thoughtfully. "you think he pulled a couple strings to have us in his classes this year?"

"oh for sure," said nobara, her response quick and short. "we have — what — over twenty different science teachers in the whole school and somehow every year without fail we're in his classes? tell me that's a coincidence."

as your friends discussed the things that satoru must have done in order to have each and every one of you in his classes this year, you stared down at your timetable, eyes glued down as something suddenly hit you in your mind.

you were now going to be lonely in performing arts due to the fact that nobara had switched majors. her electives were now filled with fashion design courses, her dream ever since the end of sophomore year, and you were glad she had finally come to pick something she found genuine joy in, but it still stung a little.

you sighed, almost feeling silly for missing something so trivial, but the thought of no longer having those shared moments with her in drama class left a hollow ache. it wasn't as if she hadn't told you this would happen during your vacation in the summer, yet the reality was harder to digest than you had initially anticipated.

"fashion design," you stated, as yuji and megumi found themselves immersed in a pointless argument about satoru and his questionable teaching methods. "i think mai was saying something about that the other day."

"yeah," said nobara, her voice suddenly gloomy as she deflated in her seat, eyes half-lidded and lips in a pout. "there's a workshop in the first class. the seniors are helping us."

a small, amused smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as she sulked in her seat. her exaggerated pout and half-lidded eyes made it impossible not to find the whole situation a bit funny. you rested your chin on your hand, observing the way she dragged her finger absentmindedly across the table's surface, a clear sign of how unenthusiastic she was about the whole thing.

nobara's disdain for her was no secret — mai, with her sharp tongue and competitive attitude, grated on nobara's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. they'd crossed paths during seventh grade, and from that point on, nobara had made it clear she had no interest in mai's condescending remarks or constant need to outshine everyone, especially in the fashion design world. it didn't help that they were often compared to each other when shopping, fuelling the unspoken rivalry between them.

"y'know, she's not that bad," you commented thoughtfully. you had also grown to like mai a bit better throughout the years.

megumi thought it was appropriate to intervene and add his own unwanted input (during the middle of his stupid back and forth with yuji, too).

"you're only saying that 'cause she's your blackmail partner," he'd said, furrowing his brows at you with a look of obvious impatience.

you did not even turn your head to face him when you responded.

"it's not blackmail," you countered slowly, as nobara raised her brows at you expectantly. "it's... making someone do something... by using... pieces of information... as... leverage!"

"that's literally the definition of blackmail —"

"shut up," you smiled politely.

"megumi!" yuji interrupted, shoving his phone in megumi's face with such enthusiasm, you would have thought he just found out that he was the chosen one at camp rock. "look!" he shook his phone aggressively. "brazil likes tan lines! no you have to look, megumi! it says they associate it with beach culture!"

megumi grimaced at the screen, his nostrils flaring as he slapped yuji's hand away.

"yeah, 'cause nothing says 'beach culture' like looking like a poorly toasted sandwich," he retorted, scowling when someone on the other table had shot him a sharp look.

you laughed, met with the sight of yuji in a defensive stance, eyes wide and brows furrowed at the dark haired boy sitting next to you. he was pointing at himself, at the two shades of skin on his neck, his fist clenched which only emphasised the veins running up his hand.

"you keep saying that like i didn't wear sunscreen, but i did!" he snapped, drawing the attention of the people passing by your table. megumi pinched the bridge of his nose as yuji went on, uncaring of the fact that almost every eye in the cafeteria was drawn to the four of you, courtesy of yuji and his unnecessarily loud speech. "i wore the kids one, but it's still sunscreen!"

"what brand?" asked nobara.

"nivea!"

"didn't they run tests for that one and find that it's actually a leading cause for skin cancer in its consumers?" you said, watching his face comically pale as he glanced down at his own hands, a lot darker than what they used to be like before the trip to italy.

yuji's brows knitted together, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if struggling to maintain composure, but the fear creeping into his wide eyes betrayed him. you could see the panic in the way he darted glances between his hands, his arms, and even under the table where his legs were, as though expecting to see something awful already happening.

nobara had taken the opportunity to scare him a little further, making up random statistics about non-existent kids who had reached critical condition due to the sheer amount of the product they'd used, and as she continued, his expression grew more strained, the color slowly draining from his cheeks, leaving him looking almost as pale as the white cast left behind the sunscreen he'd used.

your phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. you pressed the button to read it properly.

coffee-hose victim: Check if final pay-check was received

mandy.

you'd check later. you were in no rush, you decided, as you stared at the message briefly, feeling a dull sense of finality wash over you.

both you and megumi had been made redundant after the café shut down over the summer — an abrupt closure that neither of you had seen coming. mandy, your old manager, had been sorting out the final payments for the staff, promising to get things wrapped up even after the little shop was cleared out. now that everything was nearly done, you'd finally be able to delete her number from your phone, erasing the last trace of that chaotic job, of her.

but it also meant finding new jobs, and you refused to work without megumi by your side.

"we need to apply for jobs this week," you told him, showing him your home-screen that had mandy's notification banner at the very top. his eyes followed each word smoothly before looking back up to meet your gaze. "probably not hospitality ever again."

"i'd work at miss B's if she ever let us," said megumi, as you placed your phone back down and silently nodded in agreement. "i like her."

"mind saying that again?" you grinned, lifting it back up and having it hover near his mouth that had been set in a straight line the second he saw your lip curl. "i want to make it my ringtone."

"shut up," he snapped, slapping your wrist away quite like he had done with yuji not even five minutes ago. you laughed but complied anyway. having megumi's voice as a ringtone would make it so that you would never actually pick up the calls. he frowned at you. "come over to mine and we'll apply then."

you threw him a sideways look. "no, you come over to mine."

he furrowed his brows at you.

"what difference does it make?" he asked, his eyes critiquing your every move. nothing out of the ordinary.

you sighed loudly; someone might have assumed you were in the middle of a chore.

"if i see toji, i'm going to be tempted to make fun of him. i'll get distracted," you explained, shaking your head at your friend as though it had been the most easiest thing, and he had failed to understand. "top of the class and yet you're not the exactly the brightest crayon in the box, are you?"

"shut up," he repeated for the second time in the very same minute.

nobara turned her head slowly, deliberately, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on megumi. there was a brief, almost theatrical pause before her lips curled slightly at the corners, (the way they did when she was about to say something cutting) as the dim light of the cafeteria above you all caught the sharp angle of her cheekbones.

"megumi, i can not argue with idiot number one," she began, lifting her chin to gesture at a pale yuji, "when you, idiot number two, keep telling someone to shut up. how about you shut up for a change, huh?"

megumi narrowed his eyes at her. "i'm the only one out of the four of us that only speaks when spoken to."

she gawked at him. "you calling us chatterboxes?"

"i'm saying that when either of your mouths open, the stuff that comes out of it is never relevant nor necessary."

the three of you sat in silence, each watching him with different expressions on your faces.

and megumi felt the need to clarify:

"none of your statements are of any substance —"

"we get it!" snapped nobara, her gaze cutting and sharp. she took enough care to kick him beneath the table, which only began the onslaught of physical attacks, one you joined in for the sole purpose of bullying megumi. you thought he deserved it this time.

as the assault continued, something clicked, and you pulled back from the friendly fire. watching megumi's face — strained and faintly exasperated — you remembered something nobara had mentioned weeks ago about the family's international dojo business, which was the zenin's main source of income and how they were so incredibly rich.

it was easy to forget sometimes; the quiet, slightly reserved megumi you knew now didn't quite fit the image of someone being groomed to run an international dojo and martial arts empire, but as he braced himself for nobara's next jab, you couldn't shake the thought: he was taking business classes, which only further supported your idea, and for a moment, you considered the irony of seeing him here, bickering with you all instead of learning the ropes of the large business awaiting him.

"hey," you said, tapping his shoulder and flinching when he turned to look down at you so suddenly.

"what?" he snapped, but only after swiping nobara's timetable off the table and onto the floor when she kicked him on his funny-bone. he was blinking hard at you, as though trying to clear his vision of the black spots contaminating his sight.

"oh excuse me for wanting to help mr dominant-alpha-wolf out," you shot back, hands raised mockingly. when he scowled at you and patiently (yet reluctantly) waited for you to continue, you went on. "talking about applying for jobs, why don't you just get some business experience at ten shadows?"

the zenin clan's dojo, ten shadows, specialised in jujutsu — a tradition they shared with the gojo's and, of course, the kamo clan too. it was where uncle ogi spent most of his time in, and where toji spent none of his time in.

megumi didn't seem to like that idea, regarding you with furrowed brows and a scrunched nose.

"so i can spend all day with uncle ogi?" he retorted, and despite your initial idea still standing tall in your mind, you had to silently admit to yourself that he raised a good point. uncle ogi was funny when he was angry (which tended to be ninety-nine percent of the time) but you could only take so much of that in one day. knowing him, he'd probably force you to work nightshifts with no breaks. "no thanks," megumi voiced, unimpressed with the suggestion.

"why don't you just lie on your application forms and stuff?" yuji suggested, his mouth in a straight line. it seemed that he had not got over the sunscreen scare just yet. "i did."

"you lied about working at ten shadows?" you asked, brows raised and eyes wide. "that's an international dojo. they go world-wide. global. your employers will find out."

yuji shook his head, raising his hand to wave it at you dismissively. "no, not there," he scoffed, smiling widely. "what do you think i am, huh? stupid?"

no one said anything; he sat up defensively.

"hey —"

"so what place did you lie about then?" nobara cut through him, literally pulling him out of his stance by his elbow.

he shrugged her off with a scowl, but answered nonetheless.

"gojo said i could say i worked at his family's pharmacy."

everyone around the table went still, eyes widening as they processed what yuji had just casually revealed. megumi blinked, caught off guard, while you tilted your head, brows raised at his unexpected response. it was only nobara, however, who looked thoroughly impressed, her lips curling as she nudged him with a newfound admiration and yuji, oblivious to the stir he'd just caused, seemed to enjoy the brief, astonished silence hanging over the table.

"it's cool, right?" he voiced loudly, grinning. "he said i should write that i worked at one of his biotechnology firms, but if the interviewer asked me questions about it, i'd never know how to answer 'em."

megumi shot him a look.

"what do you know about pharmacies?" he demanded, watching yuji shrug confidently.

"you gotta answer some calls, make requests. er... stock up on the medicine and stuff," he mumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and nodding. it looked like he was actually thinking hard about it. "deal with old ladies... and old men... er... yeah!"

"i'm putting that on my application too, then," said nobara, nodding. she made eye contact with a stoic megumi. "and you should too. only, with your family's business."

"no," the dark-haired boy responded, glowering at the three of you. "it's not genuine."

"oh here we go again," you sighed, rolling your eyes.

it had been the same situation two years ago with his easy position on the football team, when yaga offered him a vacant spot without the requirement of turning up to try-outs. megumi truly believed that if the offer was given solely to him, it was disingenuous and unfair, therefore accepting what was rightfully presented would also be disingenuous and unfair.

lying on an application form with security knowing that his family would definitely vouch for him if asked was where he drew the line.

"i'm not the serial liar here," he reminded you all, purposefully meeting your gaze to prove his point; you could have murdered him right there.

"maybe not, but you are the porcupine-hedgehog-sea-urchin breed here though —"

"you'dknow all about sea urchins, mermai—"

he left school that day with a small bump on the side of his head and a lesson still unlearned: do not mention the mermaid incident of two-thousand and eleven.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the hallway stretched ahead, brightly lit by fluorescent lights overhead that reflected off pale, polished floors. blue lockers lined either side, their surfaces a mix of chipped paint and stickers left from previous years, giving a lived-in look to the corridor's otherwise sterile presentation.

as you and megumi walked past several groups of people — some leaning against lockers, others conversing on the floor — you nudged him on his side.

"where do you usually sit?" you asked him, turning a corner to enter the corridor with the descending stairs. the two of you walked down them with ease, careful not to trip over that one step at the very bottom that always managed to catch your undone laces and have you stack in front of everyone.

megumi lagged a step behind, and before you could question it, you felt a slight tug on your bag, shifting it side to side. as you neared his homeroom, the faint sound of your zipper sliding into place caught your attention — he'd just fastened it for you without a word.

when he came back to your side to match your pace, you grinned up at his scowling face.

"thank you, porcupine!" you said brightly.

he adjusted the strap of his schoolbag, simple and black, and grunted, his form of acknowledgement.

you nudged him again, this time with your hip. "you didn't answer my question."

he shot you a sharp look, as though warning you not to test his patience. it wasn't like you'd ever heeded the warning in all the years you'd known him for, and yet you were still living and breathing and walking, alive and well.

"shouldn't matter to you," he responded, but only when it had become clear that you were not going to budge on it. megumi continued to face ahead, watching his steps as he spoke. "we're not in the same class and you won't be allowed in."

"ah, but if my memory serves me correctly," you beamed, sliding in between several seniors who were blocking the hallway to get to his class, and he shadowed you, right by the back of your heels, "you said the exact same thing in kindergarten and then they changed my name in the register so i was in your class permanently."

"set my fate with that dumb decision."

"hey," you frowned, looking at him from over your shoulder and furrowing your brows, lips set in a straight line. "that's rude."

megumi didn't grace you with a response to that, only following in your footsteps as you managed to squeeze past the groups of people huddled in the middle of the narrow corridor.

"besides," you began, once the two of you were walking side-by-side again, "if that decision wasn't made, you'd have a boring life, porcupine."

as the two of you neared megumi's classroom, the energy of the hallway shifted — voices grew louder, students lingered in clumps near the door, waiting to slip in just before the bell rang. it did tend to annoy you when they'd stand in a huddle and make it difficult to walk properly, but you'd gotten used to it after the first couple of weeks starting high school for the first time.

the sharp lines of megumi's face settled into something halfway between annoyance and resignation, his brows pinched, and his jaw clenched slightly as though he were biting back a retort. he shot you a sidelong glance, and for a moment, a split second in time, his expression softened — if you didn't know him that well, you might have thought you imagined it — almost as if he were mulling over what you'd said before huffing quietly, that familiar scowl reappearing on his face as he straightened his posture, ready to brush you off as he always did.

"you don't believe me?" you questioned, amused.

"it'd be stupid of me to believe someone who has a criminal history of lying," he grumbled, eyes half-lidded as though the answer had been obvious enough for a five year old to guess. arguably, you thought the five year old version of him probably would have said the exact same line, word for word. he had been too grown to actually be a kid.

"lying is part of my major," you reminded him, brows raised. "that's why i'm always the lead in the plays."

megumi averted his gaze, grumpy. "my bad. i thought you threatened everyone for the role —"

"i'm not a delinquent like you," you told him, smiling, and when he made a move to pinch you on your side, you dramatically flattened yourself against the lockers."i'll yell for help!" you hurriedly warned him, eyes cautiously wide as you followed where his pale hand was left outstretched near you.

he narrowed his own at you, contemplating. you could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking, deciding. you helped him make his decision faster by parting your lips, a silent threat. wisely, he retracted his hand, walking to his classroom which was at the end of the corridor, not looking back to see if you would catch up to him.

you did, in fact, catch up to him, if only to prove your initial point:

"if you weren't friends with me, what would you keep yourself entertained with, huh?" you asked, slapping his bag. he threw you a dirty look despite the fact that the hit wasn't enough to even make him stumble. "your non-fiction books? oh, i know a great non-fiction joke for you!"

"leave me alone," said megumi, glowering. "isn't your class down there?"

he gestured to the other end of the corridor.

you ignored him.

"why can't you trust an atom?" you asked, and when he refused to answer, instead choosing to duck under miss zaid's oustretched arm to go inside his class, you answered anyway, halting by the door because she stepped in front of you. "because they make up everythi— oh hey miss zaid!"

the teacher in question took back her arm and folded it over her chest, leaning against the door frame to block your entrance. you looked around, over your shoulder and around the corridor, before looking back up at her and smiling.

"who are you standing guard for?" you asked brightly. "can i help?"

"you can," she nodded, jutting her chin in the direction of the end of the hall, her expression half amused and half firm. "by making your way to mrs jenkins's class."

you shook your head firmly.

"but mr gojo said i could stay here instead," you said, expression grave. satoru had said no such thing, but that didn't matter, not to you at least.

"okay," said miss zaid, letting out a long exhale through her nose. "and is mr gojo part of the student advisory?"

your eyes darted left and right, momentarily speechless.

"he owns the pharmacy down the block," you tried, smiling pleasantly.

"and what does that have to do with the school?"

"erm... the first aid stuff in the school —"

the more you blabbered, the more unconvinced she became. you raised your brows at her, stern and serious.

"but my timetable's changed," you informed her, watching as the crease between her brows began to deepen as you spoke. "yeah, it says i'm in this class now."

miss zaid stepped aside to let two other students through. you took the opportunity to try and follow in right after them, only to be stopped when she rapidly stood back in that defensive position again. you frowned — what were you, a danger to the class?

"does it say my name on your timetable?" she asked you, curious.

you nodded.

she extended her hand, making a come hither motion.

"show me your timetable," she'd said, and at that, you froze.

it had been a lie after all. you were hoping to gain entry without the necessary proof. it had, after all, worked last year.

you watched her brows unknit themselves, tilting her head at you expectantly.

you paused.

"miss i really like the colour of your hijab today —"

"go," she interrupted loudly, pointing at the room you were meant to be in, all the way on the other side of the country, "to class, y/n." she looked up and nodded. "hi, yuji — come inside."

you turned and looked over your shoulder. sure enough, yuji was right there, walking alongside junpei, a tall, skinny boy who you had met during middle school in one of yuji's classes. the two were close, and when neither you, megumi nor nobara wanted to watch the weird movies yuji was always invested in, junpei had always been his go-to.

junpei was also in your homeroom class with nobara.

"what're you doing here?" yuji asked you, nodding at junpei when he walked off in the direction you were meant to be going in.

"what am i—" you repeated with a scoff, looking around as though that had been the stupidest question ever asked. "this is my class!"

miss zaid sighed. "y/n," she uttered your name sternly.

"miss, i can knock her out and then carry her to her actual class," yuji offered seriously.

you turned slowly, fixing yuji with a look that could curdle milk, disgust etched across your face, brows pinched and lip curled as though you'd just been asked to eat a pile of socks.

without missing a beat, yuji assumed a playful but overly dramatic fighting stance, feet squared and fists up like he was in some action movie. he bounced lightly, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as he sized you up. perhaps it would've been almost intimidating if he hadn't grinned halfway through, flashing his teeth in a way that revealed he was completely unserious, and only had you staring at him with that unmoving disgusted expression.

"i appreciate your efforts yuji, but that... won't be necessary," miss zaid added, stepping aside to let him go inside.

"you have a bunch of weirdos in your class," you told her, scowling at the top of his pink head as he ducked under her arm and waved enthusiastically at megumi, who was slouching in his seat at the back of the classroom. "that's why i'm not in it."

and before she could order you to leave again, you stood on your tiptoes and waved at your grumpy friend, blowing kisses and beaming at him.

"bye megumi elizabeth fushiguro!" you yelled, smiling from ear to ear, and bouncing on your toes excitedly. "i'll miss you megumi elizabeth! bye megumi! i love you megumi! i'll miss you megu—"

"all right, i think he heard you," miss zaid nodded, looking over her shoulder to be met with the sight of the dark-haired boy facing the board with such seriousness, it appeared as though the class had already started and he was listening attentively to the non-existent teacher. his eyes would dart back to meet yours, and each time they did, his gaze would harden and his scowl would deepen.

"did i tell you how much i'll miss you, megumi?" you added loudly.

"y/n, don't make me write you up and give you a detention," said miss zaid, watching as you waved a hand at her and walked off.

"all right, all right, i'm going," you grumbled, turning on your heel and strolling down the hallway.

as you moved farther away, miss zaid's voice echoed faintly behind you, catching you off guard as she questioned whether megumi's middle name was actually elizabeth, her tone somewhere between bemusement and scepticism.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the boys' locker room was a space with rows of navy-blue metal lockers, their surfaces chipped and dented from years of use. megumi unlocked his and shoved his school pants inside, the overhead fluorescent lights casting a sharp, sterile glow over the room, bright enough to reflect off the scuffed tiled floor where several of his teammates were sitting, tying their shoelaces. other members of his team, including yuta, yuji, and toge, sat on the wooden benches that ran parallel to the lockers, worn and slightly uneven in places, each spot marked by countless cleats and gear bags left by players.

chad had been complaining about the faint smell of old sweat and disinfectant that clung to the air, mingling with the metallic scent of the lockers, and despite megumi not conversing with the rest, he silently agreed.

where the few hooks were attached along the walls (each draped with stray jerseys, hoodies, and extra uniforms) megumi glanced down at his own, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips. he would need to get a new one — he had outgrown the one he'd just got over the summer.

he didn't know whether he should be pleased or annoyed: perhaps both.

"yaga's gonna murder you if you don't have that game plan ready for today, todo," one of the guys — oliver martin, megumi realised — had said.

todo had been quick to retort:

"this was way more important!"

in the back corner where todo stood tall, a whiteboard was propped up with play diagrams still faintly visible from last practice, but the deep lining of blue marker that formed a surprisingly accurate drawing of nobuko takada (a japanese pop idol who todo had mentioned several times that he'd die for) took up the rest of the board.

he kicked a couple of duffel bags that slouched nearby, stuffed with tangled shin guards, socks, and forgotten water bottles, before speaking in that excessively loud voice of his.

"if any of you, except for my brother yuji, can give me your type of woman that's valid," he began, only warranting several groans and protests from every member in the room, "i'll come up with a game plan so you don't have to!"

kamo, who had been minding his own business up until now, slammed his locker door shut and stared up at the demanding team captain, eyes half-lidded.

"you did this last time and then tried to attack chad," he reminded him, and chad, who had been sitting on the bench slouched over, sat up and shook his head, disappointed.

"yeah, dude," he spoke breathily, visibly upset, "and that wasn't cool."

"YOUR TYPE ISN'T COOL —"

"relax," said kamo, which prompted everyone else to follow and agree.

todo's gaze snapped towards kamo, lingering a beat too long, his eyes narrowing in an expression that balanced somewhere between irritation and threat, his jaw clenching as he sized him up, lips pressing into a thin line, as though silently daring him to say more.

"what's your type then?" demanded todo, pointing at an unfazed kamo who simply raised a brow and turned away, seemingly uninterested in participating in this game todo enjoyed so much. "HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

kamo stared at him again, deadpanned. "sorry, didn't notice."

"every single one of us have said our type except for you, man," andre johnson added, momentarily shirtless just to speak before pulling his head through his blue jersey. "just say it."

"i actually wanna know what your type is," said yuji, interested. "i can't imagine you with anyone, kamo."

majority of the guys in the room collectively voiced their agreement. megumi silently agreed too — kamo never showed interest in anything other than his hobbies, like football. the hum of the vent overhead was steady as the low, animated chatter continued, todo waiting for an answer impatiently by the whiteboard.

"loner."

kamo placed one foot on the bench, bending down to tie his laces together. "liked you better when you were mute, toge," he said, though not unkindly.

"he likes a tall girl with a big ass, okay?" logan parker intervened, sighing audibly. "he told me, all right?"

kamo turned to logan, his expression deadpan, unimpressed by the sudden revelation. the lack of humour in his gaze spoke volumes, making it painfully obvious to megumi that kamo had never confided in logan about such a preference.

his straightforward nature, megumi had decided, left no room for such casual gossip, and it was hard to believe that he would ever engage in a conversation about his personal preferences with someone as prone to exaggeration as logan.

"is that true?" todo demanded almost immediately after logan had added his false input.

kamo tied his hair back, looking uncaring and tired. "no."

todo clenched his fists.

"your type can't be that bad," he said, looking around before his eyes landed on megumi, who was now sitting on the bench beside yuta, staring at nothing in particular. "bet it's not like fushiguro's — which is BORING,by the way!"

megumi looked up at the mention of his name and scowled.

everyone had immediately come to his defence, telling todo to 'cut it out' and to 'leave him alone', but it still didn't remove the absent sting he felt on the side of his head when todo had made an attempt to attack him (and had also been very nearly successful in doing so).

during freshman year of high school, when the football team had been formed and established, everyone was made to introduce themselves to each other, which was where the drama had begun. long story short: todo had asked for megumi's type in women, megumi answered unsatisfactorily ('i don't have a preference, so long as she's compassionate and has an unshakeable character') which resulted in a traumatic experience of attempted murder — as yuji had called it.

"todo, get over it!"

"yeah, dude, you literally pressured him for it!"

"it just wasn't cool, dude..."

"man, you a weirdo!"

"HIS TYPE IS BORING!" todo roared, throwing the marker he had in his hand somewhere behind himself. "NO IT'S STARTING TO PISS ME OFF! NO IT'S STARTING TO— I SHOULD —"

he rolled his sleeves up threateningly.

megumi furrowed his brows at him as everyone scrambled to stop the team captain from making a decision that would get him suspended from the school entirely.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH —"

"— TODO MAN —"

"— BRO CHILL —"

"— CALM DOWN —"

"stop, you're gonna make megumi sad!" yuji added fiercely, before extending an arm past both toge and yuta to grab his arm. todo had turned away, chest heaving and shoulders shaking as logan and chad patted his back as though trying to silence a wailing baby. "are you okay, megumi?"

the exaggerated, pouting look on yuji's face made megumi want to punch him.

"i'm fine," he grumbled, shrugging yuji's hand off of him, but yuji had remained persistent, forcefully gluing his palm on his front and deepening his look of pity. megumi glared down at his pesky hand.

"it's okay megumi," yuji sorrowfully informed him.

"i said i'm —"

"you don't have to be sad, megumi —"

megumi took his hand and twisted it; yuji yelped and snatched his hand back, frowning as he threw his grumpy friend a pained look.

"little harsh," yuta commented, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

megumi averted his gaze, half annoyed. "he deserved it."

when toge let out a small chuckle, megumi looked up at the scene before him, half-listening to todo's persistent questioning (he seemed to have got over megumi and his type), the chatter weaving through the room in an easy manner, almost as though megumi hadn't just been targeted for no apparent reason at all two seconds ago. his gaze drifted over to kamo, who, as usual, remained largely unfazed, his expression somewhere between calm and indifferent as todo's relentless interrogation continued.

watching them, megumi's mind wandered slightly — his teammates' voices ebbed and flowed, equal parts curiosity and exasperation filling the space. it was only towards the end of the conversation did megumi actually find something he believed he had mild interest in...

"what's it called when someone doesn't like anyone?" saidoliver, holding his helmet against his side, beneath his arm. "like, when a person just doesn't feel anything?"

"depression," megumi answered bluntly.

every head in the room turned to look at his, some were laughing and some looked unsurprised.

oliver furrowed his brows, disappointed. "dude."

"stop projecting, man."

"bro, you good?"

megumi ignored them, mentally cursing himself for participating in the stupid conversation to begin with. he silently reminded himself to never do so again. perhaps he would note it down somewhere when he got home.

"nah, i meant when like — y'know a guy or a girl — like when they've never liked someone. or had a crush," oliver continued, turning to kamo with a shrug. "maybe you're that. whatever the hell it's called."

"not good enough," todo shook his head, arms folded over his chest in another obvious attempt to look intimidating. "if all you PATHETIC excuses for men, EXCEPT MY BROTHER YUJI, won't give me a valid type right NOW —"

"i like someone," said kamo, pinching the bridge of his nose with an obvious scowl.

everyone froze, looking up at him as though the mere idea of kamo showing interest in anyone was foreign. megumi believed they all had a right to act shocked, not that it was any of their business to begin with.

because it wasn't.

and yet, even to him, it was surprising.

a few of the guys exchanged wide-eyed glances, eyebrows raised, and mouths slightly open, the disbelief clear in their expressions. even todo, typically unshakeable in his boldness, seemed momentarily thrown off balance, his stance faltering as he processed the unexpected confession. a hush seemed to settle over the group of boys, broken only by the quiet sound of kamo's gear as he slung it over his shoulder and moved towards the exit, leaving a wave of curiosity and shock in his wake.

"c'mon man, you can't just say something like that and then leave!" andre said, hurriedly collecting his own gear to follow the stoic boy out of the locker room.

"it's mai, isn't it?" said ethan miller, slamming his locker door shut and staring at the back of kamo's head.

yuji looked at megumi and then back up at ethan. "mai zenin?"

"there's only one mai in the entire school," said ethan, nodding. he called out to kamo again. "i saw you and her speaking like a week ago or somethin'."

kamo turned around, his back to the door as he furrowed his brows, seemingly offended by the accusation.

"no it's not —" he began, letting out a sigh of exhaustion before rolling his eyes. "it's not mai."

"give us SOMETHING, then, and i'll take it!" todo demanded, slamming his hand on the whiteboard with takada on it. uncoincidentally, it landed on her behind.

kamo considered the proposal for a moment, his eyes glancing over every face in the room, nearly all of whom seemed relieved at todo's statement, before he sighed again, muttering something under his breath.

"you know her pretty well," he said, glancing at yuji and then megumi. they barely had the time to register his response before he turned away, pulling open the door to leave. "and that's all you're getting out of me," he added calmly. "so don't bother trying for more."

he left without another word.

the entire room shifted their attention to megumi and yuji, eyes darting between the two as if expecting one of them to unravel kamo's cryptic hint. a few of the guys raised their eyebrows, curiosity and intrigue plastered across their faces. logan nudged chad with a knowing grin, while toge and yuta exchanged speculative glances.

megumi could feel their gazes like a weight, pressing him to acknowledge that he, along with yuji, might know the answer everyone was dying to hear.

he turned his head to face his friend: yuji simply blinked, apparently still wrapping his head around kamo's words. but megumi believed yuji had a better shot at guessing who the mystery girl was. yuji was, after all, a million times more social than him.

as the silence lingered, megumi found himself lost in thought, trying to recall any recent interaction that could hint at kamo's mystery interest. he sifted through memories, wondering if there had been any subtle clues he'd missed — any glances, moments, or lingering exchanges that might narrow it down. kamo's calm, almost detached nature made it hard to picture him in the throes of a crush, but megumi couldn't shake the curiosity that now gnawed at him.

he only knew two girls 'pretty well', and that was you and nobara, but he could not imagine either of you hanging off of kamo's arm. in fact, if anything, he imagined kamo hanging off of nobara's arm (which didn't make sense, seeing as that would be out of character of him). similarly, megumi couldn't imagine you willingly being held back by his arm, instead choosing to skip off into the distance which would surely annoy the serious, long-haired male.

but he was well aware of the fact that nobara and kamo had shared several classes together...

he could still feel everyone's gazes burning holes all over his face, and he scowled, unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of entertaining the idea too openly.

but it seemed that the team captain did not happen to agree with this sentiment.

"right, new task!" todo called out, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention away from an unwilling megumi and a confused yuji to himself instead. he had already rubbed out the takada drawing and had begun the game planning. megumi had not realised it until now. "FIND KAMO'S GIRL! and this time next week, we'll gather 'round and narrow it down!"

as everyone nodded and cheered, some making their way out of the room while others lingered and chatted, he called out to both yuji and megumi.

"BROTHER!" he bellowed, pointing at him with the blue marker. "i'm leaving it to you and fushiguro!"

a pause.

"mainly you because i don't trust fushiguro!"

yuji and megumi had already stood up by that point, and megumi's scowl had deepened. it wasn't as though he cared enough to be part of this operation anyway. it was something he'd most likely think about alone, where no one could put in their unintelligent claims and disrupt his wise way of thinking. what did todo know about that anyway?

he looks like a pineapple, megumi thought to himself as he watched him demand both himelf and yuji to deal with the stupid task. and he's about as smart as one too.

"UNDERSTAND?"

"yeah!"

"sure," megumi answered, but he hadn't been paying attention at all.

todo had left the changing room, followed by majority of the team. yuji was the only one left in the room with him.

"i think it's nobara," he said, placing his helmet on his head. "she's extra mean to him 'cause he acts like he knows everything. she hates guys like that."

"that... contradicts your point," said megumi, furrowing his brows.

"no, don't you know that girls act really mean to the guys they like?" yuji chuckled, shaking his head at him as if megumi had very little knowledge. it made the dark-haired boy want to attack his friend. "hey... maybe that's why all the girls on the cheer team are so mean to me! yeah!"

megumi did not remind him of the time yuji had accidentally flashed the cheer team, and that from then on, every member, including the substitutes, would be extra harsh towards him.

"yeah," he said, putting his own helmet on and following yuji out of the room. "that's the reason."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

exiting the theatre classroom, you caught sight of megumi waiting on one of the benches outside, still dressed in his football uniform, his untamed hair still findings ways to stand up on its own despite the fact that it must have been forced down during practice. you almost laughed out loud at the broad shoulder pads and the snug navy-blue jersey that made him look slightly out of place in the hallway, but it was the way his helmet balanced awkwardly on his lap as he stared down at it, clearly impatient, that had you grinning.

you couldn't help but laugh, your voice echoing lightly off the walls as you made your way towards him, amused by how tense he looked even off the field. he looked up at the sound, his eyes narrowing in mild annoyance as he rose to meet you, a faint crease forming between his brows.

"you look angry," you commented teasingly.

"shut up," he muttered, scowling as he lifted the helmet and carefully placed it over your head. it wobbled slightly, oversized and unsteady, making you nearly lose your balance when he gave it a firm pat on top — a solid thump, just hard enough to send a warning, though not enough to hurt.

"it's so uncomfortable," you said, as the two of you made your way to the school gates to leave. "how the hell do you football players wear this for hours on end?"

"with breaks," he answered, and you had to physically move your head upwards to actually be able to see his face, for the lines going over and under the front gap limited the scope of your vision. "you get used to it."

you hummed in response, looking over your shoulder and around the area with curiosity.

"where's yuji?" you asked casually.

"ran for his bus," said megumi, as the two of you had gone past the gates and onto the main road leading to your neighbourhood. "said he didn't wanna take the late one 'cause then he'd have to sit for most of it with todo."

"should've made him late so he'd have to take the late one," you tutted, nearly walking into a lamppost — it was megumi's quick actions that had saved you, tugging you away by your elbow.

"the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded harshly. "your vision isn't completely gone with that on. you're not blind."

"it takes a while to get used to!" you protested, rubbing the top of his helmet as though it were your own scalp. "you said so yourself!"

megumi's expression hardened, his brow furrowing as he shot you a look that seemed to question every life choice that led you to nearly walking into a lamppost. he didn't need to say a word; the look alone was enough to convey his frustration, his mouth set in a thin line as he continued to stare at you with a sort of weary patience that he seemed to reserve just for moments like this.

"stop acting drunk," he ordered, walking a step behind you now. it was as if he assumed that watching over you would prevent your free will from prevailing over his demands.

at some point during the walk home, the conversation had shifted from the limited vision with the helmet, to gossip you had heard during stage practice, to toji and the unethical ways he kept a steady income, to what his teammates were saying in the locker room earlier, something you found yourself quite fascinated with.

"i'd hate to be you, not gonna lie... but what would you have done if todo did attack you?" you asked him, drumming your fingers on the helmet which you still hadn't taken off despite how uncomfortable it felt wearing it. you turned your head (fully) to look at your own reflection in a car mirror by the crosswalk.

you thought you looked ridiculous.

you didn't care.

megumi placed a hand on the centre of his helmet and forced your head to face the front again.

"this is how you end up walking into lampposts," he lectured with a scowl, before placing his hand in the pocket of his shorts and answering your question. "i would've defended myself."

"against todo?" you gaped, stupefied. "no offence, but he'd crush you. he's — like — your dad of our generation."

"don't ever say that again," megumi had been quick to counter, and though you couldn't see it, you knew he was glaring down at you. despite the thick material of the helmet you were wearing, you felt the heat of his gaze, like lasers burning holes where they landed.

he did not like that comparison at all.

you apologised. "sorry. you're the only copy of your dad there is —"

"watch it."

"am i just not allowed to say anything then?" you snapped, your arms flailing about dramatically.

"it's a preference," megumi began, the tone of his voice sly in a way you were very much familiar with and did not like at all, "but i know you won't do it."

you raised a pointer finger defensively. "megumi, if i could see you right now —"

"— it's not that hard —"

"— and if i was as tall as you," you continued as though he hadn't interrupted, "i would head-butt you so bad, you'd wish todo was the one dealing with you."

as the two of you stepped up to the crosswalk, megumi reached out and firmly took hold of your hand, steering you with a purposeful grip so you'd follow his lead across the road. his hold was steady, guiding, yet the pointed glare he cast downwards made it clear he wasn't thrilled with the direction the conversation had taken. even as he glanced from you to the road ahead, his gaze lingered, sharp with irritation, and each time he looked back, it was as if he had been silently reminding you of the absurdity of comparing him to todo — or worse, his dad.

his hand stayed firmly around yours until you were safely on the other side of the street. he let go, only to hit you on the helmet again.

"ow!"

"shut up, that didn't hurt."

you ignored him.

"what happened next?" you queried as you tugged on his jersey and pointed at buttercup brew where miss B was waving at the two of you from behind the glass, entry doors.

you waved back, making sure megumi had too — he was much less enthusiastic, but it was still enough to please miss B, who went back to working, leaving the two of you to continue the short walk home.

megumi answered idly. "kamo said he likes someone."

your eyes widened, and if it hadn't been for his outstretched arm once again, you would have tripped over your own foot.

"WHAT?"

"for fu— be careful —"

"noritoshi kamo?" you gasped, walking alongside megumi in visible and audible shock.

the best way to describe noritoshi kamo, you decided, was a guy who had no care in the world for anything: he lost a shoe? he'd buy a new one. you lost his homework sheet you'd been copying from? he'd quickly make a new one. he lost a football game? the next one would be better.

noritoshi kamo was no optimist, but he was definitely not someone capable of romantic feelings for anyone.

or so you had thought...

"everyone just started guessing who," megumi added, frowning.

"and did they guess right?" you pressed, intrigued. "who is it?"

your dark-haired friend shrugged, which resulted in your shoulders deflating, immediately disappointed before he'd even said anything.

"that's the thing," megumi said, unbothered. "he didn't say anything about it."

"well that was anti-climactic," you mumbled, turning a corner and seeing both your houses in the distance.

the walk was nearly over, so you lifted the helmet off your head, shook your hair away from your face, and held it beneath your arm. you appreciated just how large your field of vision was now. the helmet had been pesky, hot, and annoying.

"and i'm out of gossip," you sighed, allowing the summer breeze to flow past your face, the air feeling nice against your skin. "wish nobara was here. she always has something to talk about."

"he said something in the end though. when todo forced him."

you were surprised your head hadn't popped right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to look up and lock eyes with him. megumi needed to work on how he told and relayed stories — this was by far the worst one he'd ever done.

"well?" you prompted, stressed that the walk was shortening the closer you got to your houses.

"yuji and i know her pretty well," said megumi at last, brows furrowed as you handed him his helmet. when you raised a brow at him, visibly confused, he scowled. "his words, not mine."

the thought lingered, growing heavier as you replayed kamo's words in your mind: someone yuji and megumi know pretty well...

your brows knitted together as you tried to piece it together, replaying moments you'd seen kamo interact with people you that were close with both yuji and megumi. the issue here was that megumi's anti-social nature narrowed it down to two people:

you or nobara.

you knew with certainty it couldn't be you. you had had a fair few conversations with the male, but nothing that you could pick apart and decide that he had any interest in you. it was mostly just random, fun situations, like the time you had accidentally triggered malakai and requested kamo to support your statement that it hadn't been you, only to blame it on him (kamo) in the end.

that should make him dislike you, if anything. at the time, however, he didn't seem to care.

could nobara be the girl he liked?

that was something you'd have to ask her, though you highly doubted it. you knew her quite well, and no guy had caught her interest. at least, not at jujutsu high, where she mainly criticised the male gender and grew new icks every day that went by.

for the fun of it, you still asked megumi whether it could be possible that someone could have a crush on you.

his reaction, however, had you visibly startled.

he averted his gaze, his shoulders stiffening as though unsure of how to respond. you waited, but his silence lingered, and his eyes seemed to dart briefly to the ground, almost as if he'd been caught off guard by your question.

your brows raised as you bit back a smile. it was rare to see him hesitate like this — normally, he'd offer some blunt response or scowl and move on, but now, an uncharacteristic awkwardness settled over him, and it looked almost as if he was bracing himself, unable to fully meet your gaze.

"no," he finally settled on saying, walking you to your door as he always would when going home together.

"you hesitated," you informed him knowingly.

"i was thinking of how long it'd take for you to scare them off," megumi shot back, ringing the doorbell for you.

you watched him walk off the porch, hearing footsteps echo from behind the front door as you hummed, nodding.

"nice save," you told him, relishing in his scowl, the last thing you saw on his face before your mom had opened the door and allowed you in, closing it behind you after telling megumi to come inside — he had refused like the delinquent porcupine he was.

and as megumi made his way over to his own porch, he realised that for the first time ever, he couldn't help the feeling of relief after ending a conversation with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the helicopter incident of 2016...

"what the fuck?"

megumi staggered away from the three of you —yourself, yuji, and nobara — craning his neck in a desperate attempt to peer over his shoulder at his own backside. bewildered, he muttered to himself, trying to comprehend why his so-called friends had just collectively ambushed him, each having touched his bottom once before guffawing loudly. what had you all done to him?

he made his way to the back door (but not before throwing the three of you a menacing glare) using the reflection of the glass as a mirror.

he was left horrified at the sight of three different handprints made out of neon paint colours (bright yellow, vibrant pink, and an intense lime) on the most compromising part of his pants:

his ass.

"shit — look at his face," you gasped, chest heaving at his expression. "take a picture with — catch it! — my phone."

you tossed your phone to nobara, who, unlike you and yuji, had the least amount of paint coating her delicate hands. meanwhile megumi's had shot to cover his behind as he whipped around, fixing the three of you with a glare so fierce, it might have turned a lesser person to stone.

flash! flash! flash!

nobara had captured his expressions, postures, and stances before he had a chance to compose himself into something less revealing.

as you took your phone out of nobara's hands, your attention had been drawn to a growing commotion behind you, distant shouts and laughter cutting through the playful chaos around megumi. you tossed a quick, amused glance back at nobara and yuji, both of whom were doubled over in laughter, still entirely focused on your collective attack on megumi, before aiming the lens on your phone not at your porcupine's flustered face, but at the source of the noise in the distance, recording just in time to capture a particularly raucous burst of laughter that had echoed around the backyard.

toji, towering and muscular, stood with his arms flat against his sides, looking both impatient and exasperated as satoru (in front of him) and suguru (behind him) launched paint-filled balloons at him. each balloon splattered bright colours across his chest, only to be rebuffed by his broad, muscular torso in what seemed like a defiant bounce.

splashes of paint exploded across his 'man-tits,' as satoru had so eloquently called them, left bright patches on his shirt as he glared at the two childish men surrounding him, chest heaving and fists clenched.

"shit!"satoru took several steps back, looking down at his own chest where the balloon he'd thrown at toji had bounced back at himself instead, splattering his white shirt with bright blue. he looked up at suguru, eyes wide behind his glasses. "that one came from his right titty —"

suguru laughed, throwing a paint balloon up in the air, catching it, and then launching it at the oddly-silent toji.

only for it to bounce back, just as expected. he had stepped aside just in time. "and that one came from his left breast —"

the veins running up toji's hands and arms grew more prominent as the two continued.

"HA!" satoru pointed at his chest. "toji? more like titty —"

suguru shook his head with a sigh. "satoru, don't be childish," he said, and his best friend actually paused, brows raised in surprise. that was before suguru had clarified: "he's big titty toji —"

SPLAT!

when satoru swung his arm around in a dramatic manner while laughing, he had accidentally released another paint ballon straight at the ticking time bomb that was toji fushiguro.

he only laughed harder at that.

"look guys!" he called out to the rest of you. you zoomed in on the scene — satoru's arms were outstretched, presenting toji as if he was some special, endangered animal, rare and one-of-a-kind. "it's toji titty-guro—"

without warning, toji's arms shot out, his hands seizing both satoru and suguru by the collars of their shirts with effortless strength. you couldn't see his face, so you were unsure of whether he had been grinning, or neutral, or angry, etc, but you watched in both horror and amusement as he began to spin, dragging them with him in a rapid, dizzying circle.

every other commotion around the backyard had stopped, everyone turning to look at the odd scene, equal parts confused and terrified.

toji's feet dug into the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust, while satoru and suguru both flailed helplessly at his sides, their limbs whipping outwards as if they were rag dolls caught in a whirlwind.

a whirlwind...

"it's a tornado!" you yelled, looking around and trying hard to keep your phone steady, but the scene was so funny, your hands were shaking with the effort.

toji's powerful grip and force turned their attempts to wriggle free into nothing more than frantic gestures, their faces a mix of shock and a hint of terror as they were spun around faster and faster...

you zoomed out to capture mamaguro at the back, watching the scene with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"are you gonna stop your... husband...?" you heard your mom question, sounding completely weirded out. and honestly — who could blame her?

what the hell was happening in the fushiguros' backyard?

"i... would," mamaguro muttered, carefully watching the scene continue to unfold before her, getting worse as time went on, "but... how?"

there was no opening for her to enter, you noticed. if she tried, she'd get caught up in the spinning andget severely injured too...

you couldn't believe what was happening before your eyes. you didn't know what was happening before your eyes. you didn't think you'd ever know what was happening before your eyes.

from your peripheral vision, you could see a stick of yellow just lingering awkwardly, and when you turned your head to glance at it, you nearly face palmed when you realised it was your father in his banana body-suit outfit. the only thing visible about him was the gap where his face rested. everything else, from his head, to his figure, to his shoulders, to his thighs, and to the majority of his legs, were all concealed by the thick material.

"that looks fun!" he commented brightly, a dopy smile over his face. he made an attempt to waddle over to the unnatural disaster. "i'm gonna join —"

"no, no," your mom was quick to hold him back by his banana-shaped body. she ushered him to the side, shaking her head violently. "no, honey, no. just... you're not going over there."

surprisingly, despite several minutes having gone by, the disaster was still going. in fact, everyone had believed it to be finished when toji had stopped (revealing the other dishevelled men stumbling over their own footsteps) only for the man to spin himself around only and charge at the duo again.

violently.

"round two!" you called out, startled. "round two or — or — er — round one point five since it never... it never finished, technically — oh my god —"

you focused your camera around the backyard, spotting mai climbing over the fence. her eyes met your phone, and she disappeared behind the wall without a second thought.

wise, you thought to yourself, wondering if mimiko and nanako had done the same, for despite several pans of the large area, your camera could not seem to find them.

a bellow erupted across the scene, stopping everything and everyone cold in their tracks. you turned, a jolt running down your spine at the sight of ogi and the sound of his voice thundering through the air — you fumbled to stop your recording in a panic, heart pounding.

a wave of silence blanketed the chaos.

toji froze mid-spin, his arms still outstretched, while satoru and suguru, dishevelled and breathless, stared up from the ground, shock and trauma wiping away their usual confidence. megumi, still clutching his rear, went pale, his expression stiffening as he shrank further into his hiding place. your dad, in his ridiculous banana costume, managed a sheepish, guilty smile, while mamaguro blinked, bewildered, glancing between her husband and the mess of people sprawled about. tsumiki giggled softly in the corner, the only one unfazed, her amusement uncontained. in the abrupt stillness, ogi's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, as if daring anyone to make the next move.

"WHAT," he demanded, voice booming, "IS GOING ON HERE?"

there was only silence that followed his question as he slowly entered the backyard, paint and balloons all over the grass and fences, a mess.

"AN EVENT ORGANISED TO ENCOURAGE NORMALCY, AND THIS FAMILY CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!"

his eyes, cold and sharp, darted to megumi, whose back was flat against the fence.

"THE VERY PROGENY OF THE ZENIN CLAN — WITH RAINBOW HANDPRINTS ON HIS GODDAMN ASS!"

megumi's cheeks burned as he scowled. it didn't help that yuji and nobara were still holding back their laughter too.

"AND YOU!" ogi turned to a normal (now?) toji, looking him up and down with such disgust, you'd think he were staring at a homicide scene. it might have actually been one, to be fair. "I CANT EVEN SAY THAT YOU'RE PART OF MY BLOODLINE! WHAT WAS THIS, A RE-ENACTMENT OF KAMIKAZE?"

toji scoffed, throwing satoru a glare. "he was the pilot —"

satoru stood up almost immediately. "you were the helicopter —"

"SIT DOWN."

despite his obvious reluctance, satoru silently complied.

ogi took this as a sign to continue, glowering menacingly at the white-haired, dark-haired duo. now, literal partners in crime.

"WE GOT SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK OVER HERE, DOING GOD-KNOWS-WHAT. WHY IS YOUR HAIR A MESS AND WHY ARE YOUR GLASSES BROKEN?"

satoru reached up to take his glasses off, hanging in an odd, desperate position over the bridge of his nose, a pout on his face at the sight of the irreparable damage.

he glared at toji from over his shoulder. "HEY —"

"OI LEAVE HIM ALONE!" ogi was quick to add, irate. "IF YOU HADN'T BOTHERED HIM, MAYBE HE WOULDN'T HAVE MADE AN ATTEMPT TO ELIMINATE THE TWO OF YOU FROM EXISTENCE!"

he rubbed his hands over his wrinkled face, before starting at the two men again.

"NO, I'LL TELL YOU WHY THE BOTH OF YOU LOOK LIKE THIS, IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE BEHAVING LIKE MONKEYS — I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT GETO!" he added harshly, for suguru had an oddly deep hatred for the animal and whichever family it comes from, and had seemed particularly offended with ogi's comment. "I MEAN LOOK AT THE STATE OF YOU! YOU LOOK LIKE MAI'S FIRST GRADE ART PROJECT THAT I THREW IN THE TRASH —"

maki, who had been lingering at the back with your mom stepped forward despite your mom's silent actions not to.

"you threw that away?" she questioned, eyes narrowed behind her round, clear glasses. "she spent years attacking me for it —"

ogi's hardened expression had faltered slightly, a look of pain crossing his features. you were certain it was more about getting caught than the actual issue at hand.

"yeah, yeah, it was you that threw it," he mindlessly replied, before his jaw had clenched harder than before. "SPEAKING OF, WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR SISTER?"

maki sniffed, irritated. "i don't —"

"this has that luke kid written all over it," ogi interrupted, uncaring of maki. "GREAT! SO I'VE GOT A RUNAWAY BRIDE, AND TWEEDLE DEE AND TWEEDLE DUM ARE MISSING. PROBABLY AT THE ZOO ACTING LIKE THEIR FATHER — SHUT IT GETO."

he swivelled on the spot, his long hair whipping behind himself as his eyes zeroed in on your father, still in that banana costume of his.

"AND YOU — GET RID OF THAT RIDICULOUS COSTUME! THEY MIGHT WANNA EAT YOU NEXT — TRYNA JOIN THE HELICOPTER WITH HIS IDIOCY!"

your father frowned, but still made an attempt at trying to unzip himself. his arms, however, were much too short to go around the costume and reach the zipper.

"well it's kinda..." he murmured, bending his knees for a better angle, "stuck... i need some... help... here... honey?"

your mom turned away, drinking her lemonade with raised brows. "who's honey?"

uncle ogi had had enough. "G-GET BACK HERE AND TAKE HIS STUPID COSTUME OFF OF HIM!"

your mom turned back around, but her eyes were darting over the place as though ogi was speaking to anyone but her.

"IT'S YOUR CARELESS BEHAVIOUR THAT'S MADE HIM BELIEVE IT'S OKAY TO WEAR STUFF LIKE THAT. I'M GETTING A HEATSTROKE JUST LOOKING AT HIM!"

she glanced at her husband, watching him fall backwards due to his failed attempt at bending his knees to reach his own zipper.

she muttered under her breath: "you'd think that men would have a mind of their own..."

"YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK EITHER TSUMIKI, I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU. LAUGHING — ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOUR?" he started, typically unusual, for tsumiki was never the one in trouble. today was full of surprises. he raised an accusatory pointer finger at her. "YOU WANNA BE A MOTHER SOMEDAY? YOU BETTER HOPE THEY DON'T TURN OUT LIKE THESE IDIOTS."

his eyes darted over you all in one massive circle, his mouth in a straight line.

"THIS FAMILY'S A DISGRACE TO THE ZENIN NAME —"

"not even a zenin," satoru grumbled to himself.

"yeah, neither am i," suguru agreed, blowing his bangs away from his face.

"i'm literally a l/n," you mumbled to yourself.

toji dusted himself off. "my son's not a zenin."

"THE POINT IS... YOU'VE SUMMONED THE WHOLE OF BIKINI BOTTOM TO RECORD US!" uncle ogi roared, pointing at the neighbours peeking over the fences with their phones at hand. you couldn't bring it in yourself to blame them. if you had seen the same scene happen elsewhere, you would have recorded it too.

you had recorded it, not that uncle ogi needed to know that...

"WHY ARE WE LETTING PEASANTS MAKE A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF US?" he demanded loudly. he aggressively turned to mr smith, a white, bald man from just down the block. "OI YOU, GET RID OF THAT CAMERA BEFORE I GIVE YOU A REASON TO TAKE ME TO COURT!"

he turned to mamaguro, eyes widening at the sight of her.

"i nearly forgot about you..." he began, before taking everyone by surprise by the sheer volume of his voice, as though he hadn't been speaking that way for the past five minutes. "YOU WERE THE BRAINS BEHIND THIS ALL. WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT THIS FAMILY COULD DO ANY EVENT WITHIN THE REALM OF HOW NORMAL OR MESSY IT SHOULD BE? THAT THEY WOULDN'T PUT THEIR STUPID TOES OUT OF LINE? THAT THEY'D BE SENSIBLE —"

"now hang on a minute," said mamaguro, her kind voice shaky, "this is not my fault! my colleague recommended a —"

"WHAT DOES YOUR COLLEAGUE KNOW ABOUT THIS FAMILY?" ogi snapped harshly. "NO BETTER THAN YOU, CLEARLY!"

he let out a deep exhale, but the tension in his temple and shoulders remained as he slowly turned around to face you. you were stunned in place, unmoving, unsmiling, unsure of what to do with yourself, in fact.

you only carefully made sure the camera was out of his sight, hidden in your back pocket where he'd have no clue that you had been recording earlier.

"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE-TIME, THIS ONE WASN'T INVOLVED IN ANY OF IT!"

you nodded proudly, mimicking his words silently behind him, pointing at satoru, pointing at suguru, even pointing at your mom.

"DIDNT EVEN START IT!" he continued loudly.

for this one, you specifically made sure to mouth the words to megumi, who you could tell, just from his cruel facial expressions, wanted nothing more than to out you right then and there, but for the first time ever, it was your word against his, and with the way things were going, you were bound to win, no difficulty.

"THIS WILL GO DOWN IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, I TELL YOU! how SHE became the role-model for you dimwits."

"role model," you mouthed, pointing at everyone. "for you, for you, and especially," you made sure to swivel your finger in a circle this time, "you."

toji gritted his teeth at you, but said nothing. you grinned confidently.

uncle ogi turned away again, eyes closed shut as he sighed audibly, a vein on his forehead threatening to burst. it only popped up again when he found yuji and nobara staring back at him.

"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?"

"damn... you'd think he'd know our names by now," yuji commented, rubbing his neck with shame.

"right," nodded nobara, shaking her head. "so rude."

"friends of yours?" uncle ogi turned to you, speaking in that gruff tone he usually had. but it was significantly different to the way he had been speaking to the rest of the family today. you mentally giggled to yourself as you nodded. "fine."

he glared down at satoru and suguru, eyes twitching at the mess of pain all over their white shirts, brows furrowing at the mess maid of their hairs, and lips pursing at the broken glasses satoru was still clinging onto.

"you two..." he began, voice rough and firm. "go to shoko, just go."

satoru sat up defiantly. "i don't need —"

"NOW."

satoru and suguru did their walk of shame out of the backyard.

everyone had done theirs at some point.

everyone, you noted with a pleasant smile, except for you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: the scariest event for halloween imo, is the helicopter incident. the zenin-fushiguro-gojo-l/n-geto family would agree. wbu guys???

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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[artists-ally]

{Only Me and the Devil Know} Reader x Azriel

Picture credit

So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)

Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)

Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.

Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo

~~~~~

The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary. 

I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be. 

After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer. 

I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.

I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen. 

“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”

My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie. 

What the fuck?

I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.

No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.

“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again. 

“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged. 

“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”

“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew. 

“Yn-”

“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”

“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”

“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”

With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless. 

____

There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements. 

I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster. 

It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants. 

But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?

Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick. 

Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now. 

The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up. 

There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before. 

My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?

“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder. 

I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good. 

The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this. 

When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night. 

A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height. 

I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.

I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings. 

Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.

It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely. 

But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-

Nope. Not going there. 

_____

With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter. 

I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals. 

It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat. 

I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked. 

A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall. 

“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.

Oh shit.

My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.

“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”

I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.

“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”

Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-

“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno. 

My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread. 

“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out. 

He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”

A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”

“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking. 

I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes. 

This was it. This was going to happen. 

I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.

My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.

How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs. 

Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry. 

The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.

I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field. 

“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.” 

He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move. 

“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”

In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head. 

As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.

“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.

It was solid stone.

“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”

“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”

“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”

I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”

“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting. 

“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one. 

“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”

He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor. 

My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber. 

“Where am I?”

“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”

Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome. 

He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”

I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”

“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen. 

His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs. 

“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”

Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.

He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back. 

“Good girl, my dove.”

I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.

“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”

Again, not comforting.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me. 

“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”

The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core. 

A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand. 

“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”

I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle. 

“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.” 

My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.

But my goodness was he a stunning male. 

Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest. 

“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”

“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”

“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.

I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded. 

“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”

Uh oh. 

With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it. 

When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip. 

“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”

My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly. 

With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously. 

I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare. 

“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move. 

“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”

He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already. 

This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest. 

“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”

His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs. 

It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me. 

“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”

Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously. 

“Tell me what you want, dove.” 

I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”

“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.

“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud. 

“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened. 

Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?

“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”

I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came. 

Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside. 

There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him. 

I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here. 

But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…

Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria. 

“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”

My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe. 

The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood. 

“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”

He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….

The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it. 

Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up. 

“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed. 

“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.

“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”

“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.” 

I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?

“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”

I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me. 

The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore. 

My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me. 

“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”

Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator. 

And I had made him that way. 

“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”

He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants. 

Holy Mother send me a blessing.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”

“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”

With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-

“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”

My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin. 

“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips. 

After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing. 

He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance. 

“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”

He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.

When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance. 

“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”

I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.

It was so thrilling. 

With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin. 

I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”

An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose. 

When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.

I felt like I was in the clouds. 

The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.

All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground. 

“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”

The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”

“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”

If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing. 

“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”

My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did. 

The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard. 

With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit. 

I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said. 

The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine. 

His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.

“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”

I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next. 

“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”

“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”

His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me. 

My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him. 

“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”

The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was. 

He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back. 

It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me. 

His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin. 

Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. 

When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently. 

“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put. 

I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories. 

Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted. 

It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity. 

I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too. 

The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together. 

“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”

I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.

____

The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room. 

“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”

“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”

“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”

“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.

~~~~~~

[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]

Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.

When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.

When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.

“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots. 

It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”

“They live two houses to the left.”

“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”

“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand. 

“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”

Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it. 

And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears. 

You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted. 

How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this. 

It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end. 

Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.

But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants. 

The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.

“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”

“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made. 

“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”

He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”

“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job. 

“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”

The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up. 

He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you. 

You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.

You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”

It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”

“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”

“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”

“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”

“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”

“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about. 

You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful. 

“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”

“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”

With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism. 

“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him. 

“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”

“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”

“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”

Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”

You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”

“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”

“Yours as well, Azriel.”

______

When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.

“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.

“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”

“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”

With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided. 

And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.

He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life. 

As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way. 

Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having. 

Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be. 

He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening. 

He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore. 

It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected. 

From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind. 

____

READER POV

I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting. 

“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him. 

Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

“Love, what is it?”

He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”

“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”

A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire. 

“Azriel, tell me.” 

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”

His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke. 

“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”

That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”

“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”

“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot. 

He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea. 

Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought. 

Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…

“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes. 

“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it. 

“Say it.”

“I want it, Az.”

“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”

My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”

Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”

I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”

_______

My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.

[npookie0]

The Chaotic Duo.

A Ronin x Misaki fic

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Misaki was sitting on top of a building. Shotgun by their side, phone in their shaky hands.

<@hitmeupp>: Anyone wants to be my assassination support?

This was yet another time when they send a message like this to the server, they always did that when the target was either too dangerous or they had a very shitty day. This was the former, their clients hired her to kill a CEO of a big filming company who was also entangled with some shady mafia business. The amount of armed men around him was really getting on the poor assassin's nerves, they just wanted an easy kill, is it so much to ask for?

Well while they were cursing their client in their head, they heard a silent DING, someone dmed them!

<@goreboy>: heard you Needed some Support

<@goreboy>: what's up?

Well, that was unexpected.

Ronin usually doesn't text her when she sends a message like that, it's usually Angel who helps them. Maybe she sent Ronin because she's busy? Yeah, that's probably it.

"Dude oh my fucking God, I am dyinggg here. Like seriously, how guarded can a guy be?" They sent him a short voice message, if Angel really sent Ronin to the rescue then he wouldn't be surprised by the voice message, right?

<@goreboy>: heh seems Like the Best assassin in The Whole fucking japan is really Stressing over a small fry

<@goreboy>: who's The target btw?

"Oh shut the fuck up, I can get stressed!- oh shit he almost looked this way... oops" They send the message and then sent another one. "Some guy who worked with the mafia, the money for him is high."

<@goreboy>: damnnn alr Then maybe shoot him Before He sees ya

<@goreboy>: we Don't wanna our Fav assassin dead

They chuckled at his respone.

"Awh stop or you'll make me blush while i'm killing someone." They said jokingly, Ronin could hear them loading their gun in the message.

<@goreboy>: maybe I'd like to See ya All blushy hm?

Misaki didn't see that message until after they left the rooftop, Ronin's message really did make them blush.

<@hitmeupp>: Oh stfu

<@hitmeupp>: He's dead

<@hitmeupp>: Thanks for the help

<@goreboy>: when You need help Call For the devil and He Will help You out

Ronin chuckled after he sent that reply.

Would he really help the assassin the next time they need help? Never say never, he could as well replace Angel and take some of her worries off of her shoulders, right? Also it's important to keep the server's members alive and out of jail.

Misaki in fact did use Ronin's help, texting him directly to help her out and he was there every time. His replies were different from Angel's, well that was to be expected, they are two different people with very different personalities.

Ronin was encouraging them more in the devilish style, he was flirting with them to keep their mind off of the nerves, made jokes about the target and fed Misaki's ego about them being THE assassin.

<@goreboy>: hey Wanna Call?

<@goreboy>: i'm Bored

Misaki was surprised to receive this DM, Ronin wants to talk, and he wants to do this only with them. Weird? Maybe a little. But he could consider Misaki's interest piqued.

<@hitmeupp>: Ofc babes

Immediately after sending that on their screen was a pop up.

@goreboy is calling.

They picked up without a second thought.

Normally Misaki wouldn't show anyone their living arrangements, but only did they know Ronin for two whole years, he also was pretty open about being in possession of their IP address which meant that he knew where and how they live.

"Hey, hey. What does the big devil want from little me?" Misaki asked once the call connected.

"Not much, jus' bored, and you're quite good at amusing me." Ronin replied with a confident smirk glued to his voice.

"Woah, am I your clown now?" They asked with a fake hurt in their voice.

"More like my personal chaos maker." He was obviously flirting with them, and Misaki wasn't going to let him have his fun alone.

"Maybe we could make chaos together then?" They joked, there was no chance for them to do it together in real life, even if Misaki wished that they could meet up... Wait, what?

"About that." Ronin's voice cut through Misaki's thoughts. "I just happened to get my hands on a plane ticket to Tokio, was wondering if you could be my guide." Ronin's words made Misaki's eyes widened.

"What!" They fell from their chair. "Ouch... wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you have a plane ticket? And to Japan?"

"Don't ask so many questions, you don't need to know." Of course Ronin wouldn't answer, he has to be a fucking mystery. A hot mystery who's really helpful...

"Yeah sure whatever, so you want me to be your guide?" They crossed their arms over their chest.

"Who's better to show me around than the best assassin the whole Japan ever saw?"

"Are you seriously feeding my ego just to get me to agree? Wow Ronin... Why does this actually work every time?" They whined. "Of course I will show you around." They smiled.

"Great, I'll be there next week."

"Wait, what-"

Aaand he hang up.

Yeah. very Ronin style.

"He's coming here? Oh fuck! Ronin IS coming here! Oh my god..." Misaki's voice was mix of stress and excitement.

They started to feel something for Ronin a while ago, but they didn't really know if it would work out. But with him showing up so randomly? Maybe it was a sign?

"Oh my god! Why does it make me so fucking excited?" They groaned and fell on their bed, their face buried in a pillow so they could scream their excitement out.

A week had passed without Misaki even noticing it.

They are standing near the airport exit with the most cheesy and cringey welcoming cardboard ever: "Here stands the devil's servant" written in English, with some edgy stickers all around the words.

It didn't take Ronin long to find them and he was barely keeping in his laughter when he approached Misaki.

"Damn, such a warm welcome. Makes me feel like royalty." He said with that cocky smirk of his.

"...Why are you even hotter in person?" Misaki asked bluntly.

"You're not too bad looking yourself, quite on the contrary, you look so much better in person." He said, Misaki didn't know if he was genuine or if it was just the regular teasing, but their poor heart still took the damage.

"Uh um, yeah! We need to get to your hotel!" They changed the subject, which was answered with Ronin's chuckle.

"Sure, lead the way darling."

The assassin couldn't say that their time with The Butcher was boring. It was anything BUT boring.

Not only did they spent some fun time at the local karaoke, ate some amazing food or did other fun activities. Ronin also made sure to do some illegal activities together, going around abandoned buildings, setting trashcans on fire, Misaki watching Ronin kill a guy, or Ronin waiting for Misaki after their assassination.

They had a good time together. And undoubtedly they grew closer. Close enough that Misaki stole Ronin's shirt from his hotel room and he let her do her thing.

"You're drowning in it." Ronin's voice came from behind Misaki who just put the t-shirt on.

"AH!" They yelled and turned around. "Man learn how to walk and make sound please?" They said and glared at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway... You can keep it." He came closer to Misaki. "Suits you." He smirked.

Misaki's face turned red.

"Uh.. um... thanks?" They weren't sure how to interpret his words, but oh lord even without a proper interpretation their heart went crazy.

"Told you, you're my chaos maker." He whispered into their ear. "And we can just bring chaos to the world together."

Was that really the Devil's confession just now?

[kyumisyumi]

Cozy Gamer Nikto

One of my favorite HCs right now is that Nikto is a major cozy gamer. And it came from a bot on chai no less.

Like, he and y/n are playing heavily modded Minecraft and you've been been all over the map gathering materials and slaughtering mobs. When you left the base was just wooded area with a dirt hut and chests scattered about but you come back to the comfiest looking farmland. Every building decorated to fit the Fall setting 🍂, pathways lined with Azalea bushes and flowers. The barn animals given ample grazing space and amenities. Ponds filled with frogs and axolotl. The whole area brightened by lanterns made to look like a variety of things. You tell him about how you got your ass kicked by the Warden and he just takes your gear off the armor stand and enchants them with the hundreds of levels he's managed to save. (Easy to save when you're not dying every few minutes).

And yes, dogs are everywhere, all with their own silly name.

Or you're both playing Stardew Valley and you're so focused on the money making side of it that you plant crops haphazardly. Nikto silently dies inside as you plant cauliflower in his designated parsnip section and wild seeds where the potatoes should be. When he mentions it you try to be neater and plant the green beans in a 3x3 formation. Nikto gives you the softest smile as he watches you realize you've made the middle crop inaccessible since the character cannot walk through trellis plants. It's fine, he enjoys fixing your little mistakes. Things get better once you unlock the mines and get to be a sword swinging gremlin⚔️ while he holds down the fort and makes you food to keep you alive. He gives you a kiss every time you bring back materials to upgrade his farm tools.

He absolutely will not let you romance/marry anyone except him >:(

Sims is more your game than his, he much prefers to watch you play. Listening to you plan out the looks/personalities, stories and builds for all your characters. On the outside he plays a neutral but engaged watcher, just happy to be in your presence, swaddled by your simple joy. But on the inside he can't stop thinking about whether Jessica(one of your characters) is going to pick her dirt poor boyfriend of 4 years or pursue the sleezebag sugar daddy that's been in her DMs for months and where the vampire baby she has with her neighbor is going to end up in all this. Nikto wasn't particularly imaginative so your ability to create these stories has him more entertained than any tv program.

Nikto also ends up playing the devil on your shoulder when money gets tight and you consider building an underground art sweatshop 🎨. Or when a character gets on your nerves and you decide it's time for them to lose their being-alive privileges.

⊱⊶Taking requests⊷⊰

[serzhantkris]

Dance with the Devil- 9

Summary: When a new threat turns into something much bigger, Matt Murdock finds help in the form of a woman with a very different moral code, and struggles to choose between himself and the Devil. Matt Murdock x Reader // Past!Winter Soldier x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist Open.

Word count: 2141

Author's Note: So, I got stuck on how I wanted this chapter to go, but I finally powered through it and made some decisions, so I'm going to go ahead and move forward. I know it's been a while since I updated, like, any of my stories, but I want to make more of an effort to getting back to writing. The taglist for this story IS OPEN, but I will be cleaning out before too long so if you are already getting tagged and still wish to be, or if you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know (DMs, Asks, comments, reblogs, however, I promise I'll see it)

Then

Blood drips steadily on the concrete. A leaky tap, it runs smoothly down your nose in tiny beads and splatters against the smooth surface. Erupting in little splotches, it leaves stains between where your shaking hands hold your weight off the ground. You stare at the bubbles of red, blinking the sweat out of your eyes. Some little girls find shapes in clouds: horses and faces and castles dancing across the sky. All you see is red splotches that might be knives and guns and rage burned into the floor. 

“Vstavat’.”

Blood rolls down the inside of your nose, kissing you as it rolls off your top lip. When it lands, it becomes a Cheburkov. 

“Seychas.”

Your arms are heavy as you push off the ground, feet finding purchase beneath you. Your boot slides against the ground, smearing the still wet blood as you rise to full height. There’s a cut on your knee that’s made its own bloody art on another patch of concrete, and your bruised knuckles ache when you’re finally standing and flexing your fingers. 

The Madame looks down her nose at you, predatory eyes scrutinizing your form as you wait for your next instruction. She was all sharp, jagged edges, and when she jerks her chin to the side, her chin is as threatening as a knife. You step aside, following her silent direction, and put yourself out of her line of sight. She stalks forward to the center of the room, eyeing your handiwork. The dull, lifeless thing at her feet had a name, but she prods at it with a toe and tuts under her breath as she gestures for the men to clean it up like she’s more disappointed about the bloodstains than the dead body. 

She turns back towards you while they’re dragging it out, her lips pressed in a fine line as she beckons you over. When you’re close, she reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“You are ready,” she says, in English, her accent thick as her tongue presses against her teeth. To the men, she says, “Bring him in.”

She turns back to you as the metal doors slide open, the shrieking of metal pounding against the inside of your skull. “You have proven yourself, little ptitsa,” she continues, placing her hand at the small of your back and guiding you towards the door. “Now that we have selected which girls will continue with the program-“ her voice is as sharp as her face, drawing the words out slowly, the meaning of her words not lost on you- “It is time you advanced in your training. And, lucky you, you will be the first to meet our new instructor. He’s, how you say, ‘on loan,’ from our friends at Hydra.”

The footsteps are heavy as a broad, imposing figure steps out of the darkness through the doors. He’s clad in tactical gear, heavy black boots stopping him just steps inside the door. A black vest constricts his torso, buckling over his chest to hold several knives against his body. His hair is kept long, a tangled mess at his ears and licking his shoulders. A black mask covers the bottom half of his face, and blue, cloudy eyes stare back at you as you drink him in. You have no time to recognize that he is evaluating you, counting the injuries dotting your body and analyzing the blood on your face and knee. You’re too enthralled by the sleek, silver metal of his left arm, too mesmerized by the way the light glints off of it to realize that he’s already calculating ways you need to improve.

“Here we are, ptitsa. Meet your new teacher. Hydra calls him ‘The Winter Soldier.’”

Now

“So, what you’re saying is we’re fucked, then.”

Any other time, Bucky would have laughed. He’d have let your sarcastic humor ease the anxiety he felt when faced with a difficult enemy, would have thrown back his own wise-ass comment or tried to lighten the mood, for your sake. But with a stranger standing three feet away, arms crossed as he leaned against the window to keep watch, he was on edge.

Bucky never liked strangers, and he definitely didn’t trust them, especially the ones who ran around in costumes and masks.

His eyes shifted from the masked Devil to you. You were crouched in front of the door, arms wrapped around your knees as you stared ahead, tracing shapes in the tile. The coffee shop would be opening in a few hours, and you were no closer to finding the man who’d attacked you.

“Taskmaster,” the Devil repeated Bucky’s revelation, the word tasting sour on his tongue. “He’s a super soldier? Like you?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and the Devil must have noticed his ire, because he held up a defensive hand. “No,” Bucky’s teeth ground at the back of his jaw and he shook his head. “He’s… different. He’s strong, and fast, sure- but he can do… Something. He can copy any technique he’s seen before. Mine. Yours.”

“Black Swan,” Matt finished, nodding along. Bucky’s gaze burned into him.

Matt had done a lot of reading over the years. He read the articles about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes: how he had been wanted for allegedly killing the King of Wakanda, along with several other members of the United Nations, in a bombing. It was an event that inspired division in the Avengers. The facts and rumors were indistinguishable, but if there was one thing Matthew Murdock excelled at, it was telling the difference between the guilty and the innocent.

“He’s a mercenary,” Bucky said, shifting the gun strapped to his back. “Doesn’t care who he’s working for as long as he gets paid.”

“So, he’s not after them, exactly.” You frowned, tapping your fingers on your arms as you crossed one foot over the other. “Someone else is. Who?”

“Last time anyone saw him, he was working for Dreykov,” Bucky said. His lips drew into a fine line, and as his eyes slid away from the Devil and landed on your face, Matt felt Bucky’s heart rate tick.

Oh. Oh.

“But why?” Matt cleared his throat, and Bucky tore his eyes away from your face. “And what about the others? Petrova and Kalashnik? Drugova?”

Bucky held his breath, looking to you to answer. You didn’t look at the Devil. Matt listened, hard, but your heart beat as steady as if he’d asked for the time. It was odd, almost frightening, how well you could hide your emotions from him. He had never met anyone with so much control before.

Finally, your tongue pressed against the inside of your teeth, and you looked up at him as though trying to see through the red lenses on his mask. “They were Black Widows.”

Everything seemed to click into place at once. Petrova’s guns, how well she had fought for her life until it was taken. All of them coming to the Americas at the same time, the lack of information about their lives before then. Not just their lives, but yours.

The Devil turned his face toward you with purpose, and Bucky’s fingers twitched like he was ready to go for his gun.

“And you, you’re one of them.”

In a courtroom, accusations carry a certain tone. An intentional, poignant punctuation that demands attention to specific words, carries the meaning of questions not asked. Inflections meant everything; emphasis on one word or another could change the whole meaning of a phrase. It could mean the difference between you did this, you did this, you did this. 

Matt’s words carried none of this. He wasn’t here to place judgment. His job was not one of presenting a guilty verdict but one of evidence, and he did not have enough to stand on one side or another. He knew about Black Widows- one Black Widow. Natasha Romanov had made her file public, and Matt had read and read and read the things she had done, both good and bad. Sins of one Widow, however, were not the sins of them all, nor were their graces. 

“Not anymore. None of them were. They- we- just wanted to take back our lives.”

And sins were not Matt’s business to judge, either. What they were doing, in this kitchen, on the snowy streets, was beyond law. It was God’s jurisdiction to decide the fate of the Black Widows, of Black Swan. Of Daredevil. If you were telling the truth, then these women had rehabilitated themselves, not in the eyes of the law but perhaps indeed in the eyes of God, and though they may have never paid for their crimes in a legal sense, it wasn’t his- or Taskmaster’s- place to take their lives. One couldn’t stand trial after execution. 

Bucky was staring hard at Matt’s helmeted face, threatening him to make a move against their companion. His hand tightened around the rifle, but otherwise, he remained still, waiting. He would protect you if he had to. He would die if he had to. Matt was sure of that.

“So,” Matt said, tilting his head to listen as a car passed through a stoplight on the street. “Someone hired Taskmaster to kill ex-Black Widows. You said this.. Dreykov? He’s dead? Who was he?”

“The leader of the Widows,” you mumbled. Your eyes were trained firmly at the concrete between your feet, not looking at either of the men. Matt turned his face toward you for answers, but Bucky’s heartbeat betrayed his concern. It was clearly a touchy subject, but feelings mattered very little when lives were on the line. “He was our… Overseer. The Red Room was his dollhouse.”

Matt couldn’t suppress the recoil that shot through him at your choice of language. It sent a cold chill up his spine. “And you’re sure he’s dead?”

You were quiet for a long moment. Your heart faltered, just a fraction of a moment, and a sigh of defeat fell from your lips. “A building fell on him, and we scattered like myshi. He’s dead, and we’re just trying to rebuild.”

“A building fell on me once, too.” You blinked up at the Devil, brows tugged together in confusion. Bucky’s brow rose curiously. “I’m still standing, so maybe Dreykov is, too.”

“You think he’s out for revenge?”

“Makes sense,” Bucky added, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe he felt betrayed. All his operatives gone, his only option becomes hiring somebody who can track them down. Make them pay for leaving him to die.”

Silence fell over the room- or, at least, as close to silence as can get for Matt. He could still make out the muffled sounds of the occasional car on the street, of racoons burrowing in the trash for warmth. Someone honked their horn two blocks east.

“How do we find Taskmaster? Or Dreykov?” Your gaze flickered between the men, searching for answers none of you had. “More importantly, how do we stop them before more Widows are killed?”

“Where was he when the building fell?”

Your eyes landed on the Devil, and even though you could only see the bottom of his face, contemplation sat heavy in his features. 

“From what I heard, he’d recreated the Red Room. I was-“ you paused, steadying your heart. The Devil’s lips pressed into a fine line, as though he could hear it. “Not present at the time. Budapest. He was in Budapest.”

“If I were Dreykov,” Bucky let go of the rifle, shifting uncomfortably. “I’d leave Russia. Get far away from wherever any Widows could find me.”

“So, that’s our plan? Find Dreykov before Taskmaster kills the rest of the Widows?” The cold air of the kitchen sent a shiver up your spine, and your hands wrapped around your biceps as you looked between the two men. “We don’t even know where to start.”

Bucky lifted his face to the ceiling, cursing under his breath. “We could try Shield.”

You and the Devil looked at him expectantly, but he closed his eyes as though praying to God there was another option, but one did not present itself as he pinched his nose between his fingers. “Shield has a file on both of them. But Fury is MIA, and they won’t hand that stuff over willingly. Not to us. And with Steve gone…”

The weight of Bucky’s implication was heavy in Matt’s gut. “You’re saying we go to the Shield headquarters, break into a high-tech, high-security building, steal classified documents from their database, fight our way out, and hope that we don’t become federal criminals?”

Bucky said nothing.

You let out a long sigh, shrugging the blanket to the floor and kicking it under a prep table. “Okay, but I need to change. This dress is absolutely ruined.”

Tags:

@hotleaf-juice @mcueveryday @nemtodd-barnes1923 @jurpng @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @morganaah @julietweasley @simonsbluee @gothicxbarbie @dark-night-sky-99 @iknowrocknroll @madwitch7 @angelhxneyy @zer0luck @cheeseman

[genderbinaryisforlosers]

A Favour from Ademara; in which Somnus forgets to act hostile to the dream druid who's stalking him and now he's in a devil's bargain that parallels his previous delusion about being the Chosen of the Lord of Storms (whoops)

Ademara's dialogue and design by my benevolent DM @iknikblackstonevarrick!!

IDs below (copied from alt text)

1: A comic page with five panels, showing Somnus in a dark room with the Cloak of Elvenkind rendering him partially invisible. He is a built South/East Asian man with shoulder-length brown hair. In the first panel, he swats at a dragonfly buzzing around his head. The text box reads: "Wish these things would leave me alone..."

In the next panel, his attention is still on the dragonfly, but a pair of hands reaches out of the dark, one of which is gripping a knife and positioning it in front of his throat.

In the next panel, his throat has been slashed, with the other mysterious hand holding his forehead in place. He is wide-eyed and slack-jawed as blood sprays all over the panel. The text box reads, "What?"

In the next panel, he has been stabbed again by a different hand, this time through the back of the throat. The hood has been dropped from his cloak and is losing the enchantment, while he reaches for his sword in its scabbard.

In the last panel, he has fallen to the floor, blood pooling under him and eyes rolling back in his head. The colour has begun draining from his face, and a dragonfly is resting on his cheek. The page around the panels gradients from white to black as he goes unconscious.

2: Continuing from the previous page, the first panel is a close-up of Somnus' eye, slightly bruised, half-closed and rolling back. A golden dragonfly rests on his cheek. The next panel is similar to the first, but the colouring of the scene has changed, his eye has widened in shock, and the blood and dragonfly are gone.

The eye panels are set on a background of a stormy sky, which becomes a full-page illustration of Somnus lying in a grassy field with Ademara sitting perpendicular to him. Ademara has her legs crossed and her chin resting in her hands, and is smiling at him. She is a skinny, pale woman with bright red hair and a perpetually dreamy expression.

3: A page with five panels, in which Somnus sits up and talks with Ademara. Somnus touches his neck, where there is no trace of the wound but his previous lightning scar is pale and prominent. Somnus: What happened? Ademara: You would know better than me. Somnus: I really wouldn't-- I didn't see anyone-? We were in there less than a second. I-- Send me back. Please. Bring me up?

When he makes the request, he leans in to Ademara pleadingly, catching her by surprise. Lightning strikes in the background of the final panel.

4: A page with seven panels. Ademara appears thrilled by Somnus' request, her eyes alert for the first time. She hooks a lock of his hair behind his ear and asks, "Can I count on you to do something for me?" He looks uncomfortable, watching her hand.

He turns away from her and says, "I won't hurt anyone," to which Ademara pouts and thinks, "You're no fun," only for him to continue, "...that I care about." She smiles, satisfied.

Taking the back of his head in her hand, she leans in closely to whisper in his ear, "I'll keep that in mind." An even bigger lightning strike throws them into shadow.

The final two panels cut back to the material plane, where Somnus is lying unconscious. Blood has continued pooling under him, but colour is returning to his cheeks and his black eye is gone. The lightning scar visible on his neck is glowing. In the final panel, he explodes into lightning, hair and eyes crackling bright white. The sound of thunder cracking is shown with the word, "KA-THOOM!"

5: Somnus as the Tempest, with his eyes and hair filled with white lightning and electricity crackling around his drawn sword. He is dripping with blood from his neck although the wound is closed, and the lightning scar glows through the blood. There is also blood on his sword, his cloak, and the rim of his shield. He is mid-motion, one foot lifted from the ground and glaring out towards the viewer. The backdrop is dark, and he is surrounded by swirling wind.

6: The same as the previous image, Somnus as the Tempest, with text making it into a comic book cover. The comic is titled "Somnus" and shows the issue number 27. The logo is "ISG" in a crescent moon, and the artist is "gender binary is for losers". The tagline reads, "Return of the Tempest!" and there is also a fake barcode.

[mountingpulisic]

A PIECE OF SANITY

YOU tearfully maneuver your way around his bedroom, grabbing your overnight bag and collecting all your belongings. if someone would’ve told you three nights ago your relationship as you know it would be in jeopardy, you simply would’ve laughed. 

mason and you were perfect, or so you thought. your relationship had been kept a secret, locked away in a box from the real world. you being an actress and him being a football player, you didn’t need or want the unnecessary attention. there were bigger things to worry about in this world, who you were seeing simply wasn’t one of them. whenever the question arose during interviews, you simply dodged it, not giving an answer or deflected it by making a joke. however, mason chose the latter, stating that “football was his priority”. 

to say his words was a slap to the face would be an understatement. you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just deflect the question like you have done so many times, why did he have to go out of his way and make you feel as if you weren’t even a priority?

playing devil’s advocate, you thought maybe he thought it would get them to stop asking questions about his love life if he finally gave them an answer, that with him answering the question would get them off his back. nonetheless, to no one’s surprises, especially not yours, it sent a flock of attention seeking women lining up in his dm’s begging to become one of his “priority” 

“love, I don't understand why you are so upset about this?” mason spoke after you confined him to how his answer to the question rubbed you the wrong way. 

you simply scoffed and looked at him “mase? seriously? what don’t you understand?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest, sitting up slightly to get a better view at him as he spoke.

mason shrugged his shoulders and gave you a timid smile as he lifted himself off the couch. Creating a distance between the two of you, grabbing a water. He slowly chugged the liquid, adam’s apple moving up and down, as if he was having an internal debate whether to speak the words that came to mind. 

“i don’t understand because this whole private, secret relationship idea was simply all yours. now since i’m finally playing along, you’re getting upset?” 

you were pretty certain at any moment your eyes were going to gauge out of your head. he couldn’t be serious right now, you both agreed to keep the news of the relationship to only your close friends and family, that it was for the best, you were almost certain he nodded and agreed? didn’t he?

“you wanted this right? for the world not to know about your boyfriend? that you oh suddenly want to be with me secretly?” mason explained, arms waving drastically in the air ”however, you had no problem displaying your relationship with y/ex/n?” mason had begun to say softly, voice slightly rising at the end. him giving you a side eye as he twisted the cap back onto his bottle. you quickly realized that this simple moment of you expressing your frustration was about to take a drastic turn. 

“mason, are you being seri-“ 

“yes, i am!” mason screamed, cutting you off. “do you know how it feels to not be able to look up in the stands and not see you there? with all the other girlfriends or wives?? to “run into you” mason threw up fake quotations “at events and not be allowed to give my girlfriend a kiss and tell her how beautiful she looks? do you know how it feels to lose a game, and while the other players are being consoled by their loved ones, i’m left alone? time and time again? yes, love, i understand you make it a point to be there privately and i’m not taking that away from you. but right now, right now with all the shit i’m going through publicly, i need you there as well.” 

mason chest was heaving heavily, eyes searching your face for any sort of reaction, even acknowledgement towards him simply pouring his heart out to you. however, you stood frozen, like a deer caught in headlights.after a few moments of silence passed by mason spoke once again.

“maybe, you aren’t ready to be fully committed into a relationship, not one that isnt a secret at least.” with that he made his way out of the kitchen, stopping briefly to say “i suppose you won’t be here when i get back.” and with that walked out of his house, purposely slamming the front door.

too busy reliving the events in your head, you didn’t hear the front door open and mason shuffle his way upstairs to his bedroom. by his surprise you were still there but he didn’t fail to notice the contents of your belongings stuffed messily into your overnight bag. 

“surprised to see you still here.” he spoke bitterly, tugging his jacket off and throwing it onto his bed. you quickly wipe the tears that were threatening to escape your eyes, as you do a once over the room making sure to have packed everything. 

“so this is what it’s come to, love? you can’t fathom the fact of actually announcing our relationship so you decide to leave?” mason questioned; you could feel the anger resonating off his brown eyes even with your back facing towards him. silence was your answer, and this caused a fire to erupt inside mason. you heard his footsteps stomp towards you, reaching over you to grab your bag of belongings before throwing it across the room.  

“why are you so ashamed of me?!” he screams, turning you around gently despite his words being the opposite. you feel the tears start to build up again and just for a second you can see mason’s eyes soften. he lets go of you and steps back, inhaling loudly. 

“i love you, y/n. i have never loved anyone the way i have loved you, however i don’t feel as if your feelings are the same as mine. that you are not in this for the long haul as i am. i am begging you to show the world that you love me, that you care about me and you can’t even give me an answer?” he spoke the words so softly however they hit you like a truck load of bricks. you stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity, your mouth opening and closing trying to find the right words to speak to him, to soothe his concerns.

“mason, i do love you, more than you can imagine. that’s why i don’t want to make us public. you are the one piece of me that isn’t show cased in the media, that is my safe haven. i don’t have to worry about girls dming me that they saw my boyfriend with another girl, or the media spreading awful lies about our relationship. i want to keep you a secret because of the fact that i love you, mase.” 

everything you said was true, you did love mason with your entire being, you wanted to remain in your own world when it came to him, the safety of the relationship made you feel normal. 

“i can’t afford losing that.” as you spoke those words, you’re eyes diverted it to the floor, hoping it swallowed you whole. 

“then can you afford losing me?” mason asked, causing your head to snap up. you quickly shook your head no repeatedly, tears spilling over. “then i need you to make a choice, right here, right now. either you love me publicly just as much you do privately or you don’t love me at all?” you reach out to him, not wanting to answer his ultimatum, he takes a step back. brown eyes begging you to answer. 

they always say silence speaks louder than words, and with that mason pushes past you for the second time that night. opting to sleep in the spare bedroom, not wanting you to drive at this time at night, trying to digest the fact that you weren’t willing to let go of your fear for his sense of sanity. 

[thetreefairy]

I hope you're having a good day/night. Platonic Aizawa and Present mic where the reader had abusive ‘Christianity’ parents because of her quirk (I’m going to say two blood manipulation, and you can pick the other one), and they threw her in a foster home because she was the ‘devil spawn’ or something and they put her in a foster home that’s where she met Hitoshi. So years later, the parents show up and ‘apologize’ and want to start new again. They didn’t mean that they needed her for money, or they could sell her to some rich guy who would pay for her since she had two quirks and was young and pretty.

I don't know but I am worried that this is based of your real life with the trauma around christianity, so if you want to vent about anything my dms are open </3, also requests will take more time due to my studyin' gn!AFAB! reader Warnings: abusive themes, christianity, yandere themes, shouting, arranged marriage attempted, abuse of power, transphobia, misgendering, implied murder

Reader's quirks:

Blood manipulation, kinda like the blood-bending from A:TLA.

neuroelectric interfacing, like wanda you can read people's mind and awake their deepest nightmares.

m/n - mothers name

f/n - fathers name

Reader used to love their birth parents with all their heart. When they gave them up for fostercare because their quirks were too demonic, their heart broke.

Their heart broke in a million pieces, but Reader's heart broke even more then they saw Shinso Hitoshi come into fostercare. They became friends due to their shared trauma, they trained together and they soon became siblings.

Their caretakers saw that, and they told all who even wanted to take one of the two in, that the two are not to be seperated.

So when the two pro-heroes; eraserhead and Present mic wanted to take the two in, the caretakers couldn't help but do a happy dance. Erasermic loved hitoshi, yes. But due to how he spoke about Reader they couldn't help but fall in love with them as well.

So when reader finally became comfortable enough to share their trauma surrounding religion and their concern about 'tainting' Eri.

The yandere tendencies started to become worse.

"Me and Reader are going out to that cat café we wanted to try!" Hitoshi shouted towards the living room while the two were putting on their jackets. "Alright, but don't make any detours and be home before dinner!" Hizashi shouted back at them with a smile. The timing was great, since Reader's biological parents wanted to have a chat with them.

But when the two opened the door, Reader's birth parents were infront of them. "My child, what have you grown!" The woman shouted while trying to grab Reader's hands, which caused Hitoshi to stand between them. "Don't touch them." He hissed, causing the woman to step back in surprise. Reader was frozen, they couldn't move and they didn't know how to react.

"Why, boy! We are her parents!"

"No, you aren't, you gave up those rights when you put them in fostercare. And they go by they/them pronouns so watch it." Shota said in a harsh tone, putting his hand on reader's shoulder, trying his best to be comforting. "My husband and I have granted you your request to speak to us, Reader and Shinso will not be presented for that conversation."

Hizashi and him wanted to keep the conversation a secret as to see what they wanted first, before bringing Reader's hopes up. "Do not forget, that they are legally our child." Hizashi chimed in.

M/n and f/n walked into the house, causing Reader to hide behind Shota and causing Hitoshi to shield them with his body. Glaring at the two adults. "Well this concerns reader's future!" M/n shouted, causing Reader to flinch. "Yes, we have found a way to rid her of her sins!" F/n tried to announce excitedly. "I would watch what you call them, and watch what you say."

Hitoshi hugged them thight, looking for a way to get reader and himself out of this situation. But he knew what quirk f/n had, and he didn't want Reader to see him use that quirk. Afterall it had been used to torture them.

"You just need to marry our high priest! He will clench your soul, reader! It is the perfect-"

"Get out." Hizashi said, his voice calm. The couple didn't listen and tried to get closer to Reader again. Reader activated their second quirk, causing the two to stand still while they see their nightmares. Hitoshi saw this as the perfect time to get them the fuck out of there.

He knew the look in their dads eyes, this wasn't going to end well, and Reader needs to stay in the dark about it.

When the two teenagers were upstairs and Hizashi texted hitoshi to blast some music. "That devil!" f/n shouted when the two were back to normal. "Oh, what hypocrits." Shota chuckled. "How dare you! We must live in gods light and we need to cleanse Reader's soul!" M/n shouted. Hizashi scoffed. "Well, you'll see soon enough if your god even wants you."

[remapped-soul]

If you're still taking prompts, Charlos + "jetlag"!

oh sweet anon, i am so sorry this took so long (in my defence...rosquez). here i am with the promised charlos (with a twist to it). i hope you like it <3 my dms are always open for prompts.

Don't make a deal with the devil if you can't handle the heat. His Abu used to tell him this and more when he was still young and naive, hands clutching to her skirts as she knitted by the fire, tales of devils and saints always on the tip of her tongue.

"Throw salt over your shoulder," she'd say. "Never stop at a crossroads. Never ask for absolution there."

At 27, Carlos is not young anymore. His Abu still calls him naive. He always loved summer best. If he's dealt a one-way ticket to hell, there are worse ways to go. At least, Charles will wait for him upon arrival.

Carlos is not superstitious, never been, not in the way Charles is with his red-quali pants and good luck bracelets, but Carlos pays attention. Still, he doesn’t recognise the crossroads until it was too late. He thought he was better prepared.

“What do you want?” “To win.” And now making it 150th start from pole position, is gonna take victory and for the first time in Formula 1, Carlos Sainz is victorious! He wins the British Grand Prix! His crossroads comes in the shape of the rampant cavallino. His devil has dimples. He spills blood for only one of them.

Carlos didn't know what to expect once he asked, once he said yes, once the kiss sealed the deal, but whatever was on his mind involved the burning pits of hell, pain so intense he’d forget anything else. The devil feeds on your soul. His devil gives him massages when Carlos is jet-lagged

In Melbourne, Charles is already in his hotel room when Carlos gets there. For a moment, Carlos sees double, two devils sitting on his bed, set ablaze by the sunset washing Melbourne in molten red, his ruby shackles glowing around his neck around his wrists and ankles. The heat his Abu warned him about runs in Charles' veins, pumps his heart, makes his eyes glow in the dark. Carlos wants to touch. He's never been afraid. He also wants to sleep. Maybe he should eat first or take a shower. Maybe—

"Sit," Charles says, voice soft, eyes unnerving, a predator watching his prey. He moves and the illusion disperses. Charles’ skin is smooth and unmarked. He’s human.

Carlos sits. All of his strength goes out of him the minute his ass hits the mattress, a puppet with its strings cut off. It takes everything he has to not slump sideways and go straight to sleep.

Charles’ fingers are in his hair between one blink and the other. Carlos doesn’t see him move, but there is heat all around his back, a puff of breath against his ears and Charles cards his fingers through his hair, tugging at his roots.

“How was your day?”

Carlos tries to say something but it translates into unintelligible sounds.

“Words, cariño.”

Carlos snorts. “Aren’t you supposed to understand every language on earth?”

“In the life before this, I spoke Portuguese. In this one, I’m speaking French and Italian.”

“Poor English too.”

Charles nips the tip of his ear with his teeth. Carlos hisses and moves away from him, but Charles is faster, arms strong, pulling him in, back against chest. Charles nuzzles his nose in the crook of Carlos’ neck, pressing his lips to the exposed skin.

Carlos squirms. “Hey. I’m sweaty.”

Charles makes a show of dragging his tongue all the way up to his jaw before he grabs his chin and presses a hard kiss to Carlos’ mouth.

“Take this off,” Charles purrs.

A moment later, Carlos is on his stomach, shirt off, Charles straddling his ass as his fingers work the kinks in his muscles. He’s not afraid to moan, melting into the mattress, feeling the long hours spent on the plane, the squash session, the time spent with Lando on the golf course. Charles does something wicked to his shoulder blades. Carlos moans louder.

“Dios mio.”

Charles snorts. “Try again.”

“You’re such a brat,” Carlos grits out.

Charles bends, peppering kisses up his spine until he reaches his ear. “You love it, mio tesoro.”

“Do I have any other choice?”

Charles presses a kiss under his ear. “This was your choice,” he says, fingers skimming down his ribs. “Spending time with Lando is also a choice.”

Carlos turns his head, cheek bumping into Charles’ nose. “Jealous?”

Charles grins, wicked. “That would be a sin, wouldn’t it?”

Once upon a time, his Abu warned Carlos that the devil is everything you wish for and more, the horns merely a display of power. Carlos has never seen Charles’ horns. He’s not sure he has any. He is not sure if this is what he wants either, but now that he has it, his life before seems incomplete.

Carlos falls asleep that night against Charles’ chest, relaxed and safe with a pair of arms around his neck and a fresh string of bites on the inside of his thighs. Maybe a deal with the devil is not that bad. Maybe having Charles growling in his ear as he comes that he’ll protect Carlos is not that bad.

Come morning, Charles sends his forgiveness to his Abu back in Spain. He crosses himself and goes on with his day. Australia feels good this year.

[anxso]

@ygoc-week day 5 is swap, so let’s swap to talking about another OC for a bit!

YU-GI-OH! DM — ISABELLA “IZZ” ROOKE

Oh Izz. Izz baby. My girl :3c She's the main character of a DM alternate fic called Soul Release, named after a card that's very important to her. She survived a tragic pileup that killed her entire family. Unbeknownst to her, this event tied her to a freshly-born reincarnation of Anubis named Rin in this verse.

This version of DM also includes a faction of worshippers of Apophis because of the existence of The Prophet of Apophis, a strong leader and manipulator… as cult leaders tend to be.

Aigami/Diva also appears earlier in this story rather than being a post-canon aspect; we get a Kisara reincarnation named Sapha, a German TCG champion; and Battle City gets a top 16 on the blimp with these three OCs especially mixing things up via their being chosen by the Wickeds.

I say “chosen,” but both Yami Bakura/Zorc and Rin/Anubis work together to create them to oppose the Egyptian gods. Yami B and Rin have a… working relationship, very much rooted in “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” They both strive for the pharaoh’s downfall. Rin chooses Avatar for herself while Yami B takes Wicked Dreadroot. Then Prophet blows up the museum, catching Yami B in the blast, and steals it for himself. Rin gives Eraser to Izz because she sees Izz as a puppet Rin can coerce to do her bidding anytime, including opposing the pharaoh.

Izz moves to Yugi and co’s school. She’s fairly distant from everyone in her life because of the tragedy, but they are kind to her and she is kind in turn. She wins local tournaments and tops regionals because, in order to hide from grief, she fixates on Duel Monsters deckbuilding and ratios and meta etc. This is enough to earn her a Duelist Kingdom invite. Overall, she’s an anxious mess who needs a hug and isn’t sure how to properly interact with other people anymore. She feels like a cataclysm waiting to happen again and again.

Now the elephant in the room! You see her with the Pyramid of Light. Rin approaches Izz after her first regional win. Izz is weak at the knees for beautiful women (and men—everyone is a bi disaster, remember?). Rin explains she hosted the tournament and forgot about a particular prize. She compliments Izz’s dueling and gifts her the Pyramid of Light, saying she’d like to get to know her better. Izz is flabbergasted and accepts the Pyramid, asking only what it is. Rin only describes it as valuable jewelry and recommends Izz keep it on her person.

The iridescent swirls in the pyramid’s sky blue are mesmerizing to Izz, and staring at it provides an indescribable comfort… and focal point to keep her grounded/stop her out of body experiences such that she does indeed wear it constantly

This has an unintended side effect

See, Izz wears a necklace (in the artwork, matches Dark Magician Girl’s pendant) that just so happens to contain the ancient and slumbering spirit of Mana. Being so close to the dark energy of the Pyramid of Light stirs her, and she becomes Izz’s ghost like companion similar to the pharaoh and Yugi. Mana is always trying to be a positive influence on Izz where Rin is like the devil on her shoulder. Izz often makes mistakes and trusts the wrong people, hurting her friendships with the gang and repairing them again.

Her using Wicked Dreadroot however… that one will certainly be difficult to come back from.

And as for pairings, I’m undecided and going so many directions! I would probably have to write it all out.

(but my heart says fellow orphan Seto Kaiba if Izz can ever look away from all the other gorgeous gorgeous guys and gals) (Rin can’t stop rizzing her up) (y’all just WAIT until she meets Ishizu)

I’m just a writer! Artist credit in first image and rest are picrew

[silverolivia-upsidedown]

I HAVE BEEN DYING TO SHARE THESE!!!

So I hatched this idea for a new character that is HEAVILY inspired by the Last Unicorn movie, and the incredible art work by @/aka_gaallo (on twitter, I don't remember off the top of my head who they are on Tumblr) with their INCREDIBLE hooves that are perfect and amazing in every way and I am HUGELY inspired by them (sorry for the gushing), AND the dnd setting of a tiefling race.

Okay, so.... Here's the character, now come with me on a journey if you would so I can tell you this deliciously tragic story.

Context bullet points:

Wild Mages can accidently summon a unicorn if their magic surges...

In the movie The Last Unicorn the mythos is that they are fey beings of purity. they don't know hate, or sorrow. they don't know regret or love either. To know one, you have to know the other, and they are incapable of that Amalthea is the first unicorn to learn what love and regret are. It is the wizard who turned her into a human and gave her a mortal's regret, that is his own greatest personal regret. that he gave such a pure being something so burdensome.

So... What if there's a group of adventures, and they go to Hell on a quest for (insert whatever nonsense here). One of them is a wild mage and as they are trying to escape form hell- the archfiend on their ass- and the mage surges and accidently summons a unicorn to fight by their side for a few rounds....

Only, they leave.... and the unicorn is still there and still fighting for it's life. Like, I just imagine this unicorn, out in a field in the fey wild, living it's best life, and then some mage pulls it to FUCKING HELL and then peace's out leaving it there.

My DM for this game was awesome and helped, envisioning a rakshasa with a chip on his shoulder. The fiend upon loosing his prey (the adventurers) is furious, but this delicate morsel they left in their wake, might at least take the sting off. It is a paltry task to cut the thin threads of the spell, leaving this unicorn permanently stranded here for the rakshasa to take it's time and really enjoy ruining something so pure.

The small bit of dialog we have in that moment where the unicorn has been fighting and running and trying to escape, but now is cornered and run down as the fiend descends upon it.

--------------------

"Little unicorn, lost and alone, would you like me to free you from this place? All I need from you, is a lesson, and I will set you free from here."

She would rear up and shy away, baying in panic. She is cornered, she knows she will die soon, she can feel the multitude of beings drawn to her, wanting her flesh, wanting her blood, the only thing keeping them back is this one archfiend of this area who now entreats her with such honeyed words. But she can sense the wickedness behind them.

Does she take the deal? She is a powerful being and once returned to her home, surely this Devil's hold over her will be weakened by her natural strength and pureness.

She is flighty, dancing back and forth on delicate cleft hooves. But she bows her head to his deal having no alternative... "I will accept your bargain, Devil...."

Adorned in fine silks, the tiger headed fiend reaches out with clawed hand and lays it upon the pure creatures head. "Your lesson is this. Learn what it means to be impure." When he hand is lifted away, a sickening wave of lethargy washes over the beautiful creature as they feel their form begin to change.

"Starting first with your body. You must look as fowl as any devil before you can truly learn anything."

And with that, she feels the cold of mortality creep into her form, the caress of entropy upon her body and her mind. She is heavy, and her body now awkward and wretched

Her essence is pulled from her form in beautiful silvery, iridescent mist, coalescing into the Rakshasa's hands as her new hooves touch the ground and she crumples

She feels the magics pull and bend around her new body as reality ripples and she is sitting in the Prime Material Plane...

In a small field, the sun feels cold on her new skin, and she hugs herself and weeps, having lost something precious that even now the edges of those memories are being lost to this new form.

She weeps, but does not know why

She shivers and doesn't understand what has happened. She has never cried before, never felt cold. She feels... so small.. so weak... so alone...

-----------------------------

And here is a splash sheet of that moment along with some other doodles of her

Also, side note, I actually don't know what I want to name her. Stellaluna was pretty, but I'm super not married to it, and I might change it before I actually play her.

[celestial-astro]

Kim Jisoo x Ahn Bohyun Tarot Reading (September 2023)

This is a response to a dm I received requesting a reading for these two. Please continue to follow the general guidelines when making requests/comments. I apologize for any typos.

Reminder: this reading is not intended to hate on the celebrities or anyone I am doing a reading for. Please be respectful! This reading is purely entertainment purposes only. Please do not take anything in this reading too personally.

The Cards: The Star-Eight of Cups- Four of Pentacles- Two of Swords- The Devil

Oracle Cards/ Clarifiers: Kisses-Twin Flames-Separation

I'm going to do my best to not divulge too much information, but the energy is quite strong in this reading. The moment I started to do this reading a wave of fatigue hit me and I felt extremely heavy (like my shoulders were being weighed down). Energetically there is a lot of chaos surrounding them right now.

For Jisoo, I got The Star and Eight of Cups

This might mean that Jisoo seems to be in the precipice of walking away (8 of cups). She is definitely tired about something. (*this doesn’t immediately mean she will break up with Bohyun, but she is being very antsy). I also started feeling tired when I pulled her cards, so might have a lot of fatigue (physical/emotional) she is going through which is making her more anxious than usual. The Star could mean that she is also looking for her higher purpose (in both life and love). This could mean that she might be the type to believe in soulmates/twin flames. She might be wishing to find this person (The Star) if it's not Bohyun, she is definitely willing to walk away (8 of cups).

For Bohyun, I got Four of Pentacles and Two of Swords

This could mean that Bohyun is a bit on the defensive side within their relationship. He might not be opening up the way he should because both of these cards are cards of protection one's chest/heart. He might not be communicating in a way that's very beneficial to both of them, because Jisoo is having feelings of leaving.

Overall energy: The Devil

If I am to be honest, these two need to make very difficult decisions (The Devil) if they want their relationship to continue. Otherwise, it might result in their separation (this is the last oracle card that came out). At this time, they need a lot of work for the long term progress of their relationship. Otherwise, they seem to actually be very good together (Kisses and Twin Flames), but the Separation card does worry me a bit.

I wish them the best!

Disclaimer: Again, this reading is for entertainment purposes only. This reading is not intended to cause harm to anyone I do a reading for. Do not take any content too seriously. Tarot readings are all about current energy and energies can change with both time and personal decisions. Please be kind! Thank you.

[kageofthehiddenmist]

Dash Commentary

[ic][open?][drabble?] We just don't know. See tags for instructions.

"Ara ara ♥... what a catch," Mizukage Terumi Mei said.

The double doors of her office banged against the walls, as two jounin from Border Control dragged in a limp body. They tossed it in front of her ancient desk. The body slid, then came to a halt in the center of the office.

The Mizukage's assistant, Ao, sorted through a stack of reports and didn't intend to get involved. Mei paid him a glance, then she stood up.

"I will have a look at what prize you boys dragged in," she said. She rounded her desk. "Where did you catch the little rat?"

"Cargo ship to Konoha, ma'am. He was among the vermin."

The lady Mizukage put her shoe against the captive's shoulder, and flipped him onto his back. Once the cloak slid down, she saw his hair was like straw. And he wore a red scarf, and white armour. The ANBU mask was as tattletale as his scarf.

She squatted down. "And the mask?"

"It's still Tobirama Senju-grade, ma'am. Careful. Can't remove it without blowing up the head and setting everything ablaze."

She knew that. Her red nail ticked against the mask. Tick, tick, tick. "What are you?"

"An ANBU from Konoha, ma'am," said the officer on the left, and the officer on the right quickly filled in: "A sparrow, ma'am."

"Sparrow, mm?"

The captive remained unconscious as she ran her finger down over the beak. She said thoughtfully:

"Konoha ANBU are prideful, they often employ members of the high clans. Straw hair.... so there's a heightened chance this one is a Senju or Yamanaka or Akamichi.

"Sparrows are flighty birds. This foreign combatant isn't a tank or DPS, not even an assist. He's most likely a scout or information-gatherer that does medium-distance communication with spies. His clothes are dirty, his pouches are empty, which means he was on his way out..." So there's even more information leaks.

Then she stood up with a smile and a hand confidently on her hip. "Would you care to help a lady out?" The question was an order in disguise and everyone knew that. "Take him down below, give him to the DM. The dungeon master will know to strip-search him and put him in chakra mittens. Thank you. Good work."

Once they were out, they closed the double door.

Mei went to the double doors, opened them, and she turned to Ao.

"Ao? Send in Yapper from International Relations. She and I will write up a message to Hell's Capitol to let the devils know we caught one of their spawn."

"Birds of a feather, flock together. Do you think Oriole is involved?" he asked.

"I'm keeping that option open," she said grimly. "Does Konoha currently keep any of our people prisoner?"

"No, as far as we know the kill-before-capture strategy has been flawless." Ao answered.

"Good, we have four of theirs now. With the Sparrow, this makes five. Five is a good number. Let's see if I can finally get a high-ranking devil at my dinner table~"

"Do you want to invite the Hokage?"

She shook her head. "No. That is too high-profile. I want someone who I can bargain with. Someone who can go home as a changed man."

Ao offered: "You can consider Commander Shimura of Administration, or Commander Hatake of ANBU, or Commander Morino, Jiraiya of the Sannin, or perhaps a clan leader?"

"Shimura is unmarried, right?"

"Our spies suspect he has regular meetings with the Senju princess who broke Lord Second's hand."

The Lady Mizukage cursed like a sailor under her breath, and then she smiled.

"Let's see who will show up, shan't we? If they leave Sparrow behind, we can do to him whatever we want. I suggest we turn him into a breeding stallion, and then in twelve years, we give Konoha a taste of their own bloodline limit."

Ao rarely heard her speak with such a scary happy voice. He did knot like that. She was quite intimidating. "Ma'am, you're raising your voice too high. It's inappropri-"

She smiled. Then she closed the open doors. On a lower voice, she said: "This time, I wanted the spies to overhear. They'll get antsy, and move, and make mistakes."

Ao was quiet.

She said: "Be a dear and send the ANBU Commander after we're done talking. I want the ANBU to cross-comb the city so find out whom exactly Sparrow talked to. And if any civilian or bureaucrat dares to suddenly go on an 'emergency holiday', we will set our Hunter-nins on them. We have five prisoners now. Let's up those numbers. Ten. Fifteen. Fifty. I want this city as tidy as a geisha's hair. A single woman always cleans her house before an esteemed guest arrives."

She didn't hold Konoha in high regard. But she was a lady looking for marriage. And in the affairs of bachelor love, one can't predict their future audience!