#the sun was setting n the birds were singing so pretty

[skenpiel]

waaaaaaaahh....... had a super nice impromptu hangout w my buddy ^__^ we got high in a graveyard and just laid in the grass for awhile it was so nice

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Spooky Season Terry 👀

I gotchu anon 👀🖤 I couldn't actually picture Terry as like something supernatural or not human so I present you with delusional stalker Terry, I think this is probably more dark than spooky...

Want You (oneshot)

A/n: I am purposefully not tagging anyone cause this is a pretty dark story, read at your own discretion and minors kindly fuck off.

Summary: Terry x female reader, you unlock psychopathic behavior within Terry

Warnings/Content: Stalker/Yandere behavior, Terry obsessed, oral (female receiving), mirror sex

Word Count: 4,365 sorryyyy I seem to be incapable of writing a quickie 🥴

He wishes he’d never set eyes on you. Actually, he wishes you didn’t even exist. That first glimpse of you was like some kind of gateway drug, and now he was a full on addict, doing anything in his power to obtain more and more pieces of you. 

You were torture itself. What sadistic being sent you to the park that day? Terry watched you, sitting on a bench perfectly placed in the shade of a tree, eyes closed and head tilted up to better hear the singing birds. He admired the serenity that seemed to surround you, and it stirred something in him. Your eyes slowly opened when you heard Terry jogging by, and you gave him a friendly smile, and Terry nodded to you, as if everything was fine. But it fucking wasn’t.

You stayed on the forefront of his mind while he jogged, his memory of you vibrant-your beautiful skin exposed to the sun in your athletic set, your pretty eyes pulling him in within just a few seconds, your plump lips he wanted to suck the life out of. Why? Why did you pick him to trap in your grasp?

Terry took another lap around the park, just to see you again. He stopped in front of the empty bench, frustrated because where the fuck where you, any why was he looking for you? He decided it didn’t even matter, you didn’t matter, he’d never see you again. But his body instinctively led him to the parking lot, and there you were, getting into your cute little car, happily chatting away on your cell, completely unaware of your surroundings. You’d missed the hulking shadow that stood in the spot you just left.

~~~~~~~

It was Terry’s shitty, horrible luck that he ran into you again. He’d been just starting to find other things to occupy his mind. He’d never had a human obsession before. Usually, his compulsions were limited to strenuous physical activities; his time in the military had taught him that being present in his body was a perfect way to numb his mind��a dark place he preferred not to linger in. And he liked it that way. Alone, controlled. So this weird fixation on you? It was new, it was out of control, and he fucking hated it.

That’s why he was so grateful the memory of you had finally started to fade after two weeks. His mind was clearing, and he’d begun to feel like himself again. And then there you were— innocently stretching on your tip toes reaching for the last box of cereal on the top shelf. You just happened to find yourself at the grocery store he’d claimed for himself, because they always had his favorite protein bars in stock. And now you’d taken this from him, too.

Before he could think, Terry found himself striding toward you, his steps stiff, almost as if he were being pulled to you. His broad, solid frame just barely grazed yours as he reached up and snatched the box from the top shelf. You gasped, startled, and turned quickly, a nervous smile forming as you prepared to thank whatever giant had come to your aid—only to falter, the words lodging themselves in your throat.

You felt your mouth go dry under the steely look in his gray eyes. They were beautiful, maybe, but they pierced right through you. His face was unreadable, but there was something so oddly familiar about it.

Terry’s eyes studied every detail of you, and you were even prettier up close—that was just plain unfair. His body was buzzing with energy, his mind flashing with a desire to see you caught off guard as he was, to show you what it felt like. But he wasn’t an animal. You wouldn't rob him of his restraint like you did his sanity.  So he reached around you, tossed the cereal into your cart, and brushed past you without a second glance.

“Uh… thank you,” you managed, a confused, breathless call, but the words fell on deaf ears.

What the hell was that? Why did he look so familiar? Why did he look so… angry with you?

~~~~~~~

Terry really played himself, when he’d only meant to play with you. Your scent stuck to him, he should’ve never gotten so close. Why did you have to smell so irresistibly good, like you were created exclusively to make him suffer. He doesn’t want to want you. He purposefully didn’t want anyone at all as much as they always try. But your smell lingered on him, infiltrated his psyche. He had no choice but to follow you home. He hated himself for it, and hated you even more.

From there it was so fucking easy, almost as if you didn’t know you were entertaining dangerous company. Your front door only had 2 locks, you were on the top floor of your building so you never locked your patio door or windows, you didn’t have any cameras. Do you not care about your life at all? Terry would have to fix that, would teach you, once he made you his, how to exist in this world without being easy prey.

He found himself in your place so often now, especially while you were home. It sent a shiver up his spine to move when you moved, expertly ducking around corners to stay undetected. He listened to your conversations, ate the food you made whenever you’d fall asleep, read your journal entry of recognizing the handsome stranger was the same man from the store. And yeah, he even sniffed the toys you used to make yourself cum, stealing your little bullet vibrator, putting it in his mouth once he got back to his place, and he came the hardest he ever has to date, the taste of your essence pushing him deeper into obsession.

His nose is actually what gets him caught. He’d overheard you telling your best friend about wanting to get a furry companion, the puppy of your dreams to make your place feel less lonely. And so Terry, who’s hatred for you was teetering on the edge of affection, got you the ugly little fucker. And it whined and shat and yipped all night. Terry called out of work, because no one needs to experience him so sleep deprived, and made his way over to your place. He laid on your bed, with your sleep shirt over his face, and breathed you in over and over again until the frustration dissipated. Unfortunately for him his heart rate slowed too much, and that's how you found him.

You were having a bad day enough as it is. Your boss sent you home early after being a dickhead to you all day, claiming your poor work would just slow the whole team down. Good fucking riddance, you were already interviewing for other jobs. You didn’t expect to discover a huge, faceless man on your bed. Your body shook as you looked for a weapon, and panicking, you let out a screech hurling all the shoes you could get your hands on. Terry cursed, standing quickly, the shirt still on his head leaving him disoriented and unable to block your throws. You screamed louder at the sheer length of his full height.

“Get the fuck OUT!!” you threw books at his head, backing away as he moved towards the sound of your voice.

“Would you stop-” an umbrella popped him right in the mouth.

“I’m calling the police! Get the fuck out!” you swung and hit his neck, and swung again, jamming the umbrella into his crotch. 

Terry doubled over with a groan of pain, and charged instinctively. He’d somehow managed to blindly knock you into a wall, causing you to lose consciousness. He finally yanked the damn shirt off his face. Terry looked down at you, unconscious and vulnerable, and released a disappointed sigh. Look at the shit you’ve gotten yourself into. See how easily he’d taken you down, even when he could barely see? Imagine if it had been some other sick fuck breaking into your apartment. You wouldn’t stand a chance. The thought made his chest tighten, a possessive anger sparking beneath the frustration. You needed him to be the one guiding you, teaching you how to survive in a world full of people just waiting to take advantage of your carelessness.

He leaned closer, his eyes tracing the outline of your face as if committing it to memory. "What would you do without me?" he whispered, a quiet promise he was sure you’d thank him for someday. Gently, he scooped you up from the ground, cradling you close for a fleeting moment before setting you on your bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. With one last, possessive glance, he left.

But he’d be back. This was only the beginning of showing you just how much you needed him.

~~~~~~~

Terry watched you file a police report, change the locks on your door, install cameras, and purchase a gun. He was pleased; finally, you were taking your safety seriously. You even made progress on being more aware of your surroundings, glancing over your shoulder everywhere you went—yet your eyes somehow passed right over where Terry lurked. There was still so much for you to learn.

A week later, he showed up at your door. He rang your new doorbell, and bent to look right into the camera. The hand that wasn’t holding your phone flew up to your mouth. You didn’t see the face of the man who was in your bed that day— it was covered the whole time. But the look on this man's face, you knew it was him. The intensity behind those striking eyes, it was the same at the store, and the same at the park. Fuck. 

You grabbed your gun off your entry table, and held your breath, eyes locked on your phone which was displaying Terry on the other side of your door.

“I know you’re in there, I can hear you.” His voice was so soft, and deep, his lip curved into a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. After a moment, he spoke again.

“Aren’t you going to welcome your new baby home?” He moved back slightly and held up the puppy with a precious blue bow on its ear. It was sleeping peacefully in Terry’s palm, as if it wasn’t being held by a monster. You hesitated. You should really call the police. Maybe if he looked outwardly creepy, you would’ve by now. There was no denying your attraction to him, or your curiosity, but he’d crossed so many lines, probably more than you even knew about.

You unlocked the bottom 2 locks, and kept the chain lock done at the top, cracking your door open as much as the chain would give. You slowly peered at him, hand flexing on your gun, and watched as bent to eye the chain.

“Hmm that’s a nice touch bunny. Although-” you jerked back quickly as Terry reached his hand through, easily finding the latch and flicked his wrist undoing the chain. You stepped back on shaky legs as he pushed the door open all the way, the air seeming to thicken around you. He tsked at you, a mockingly sympathetic smile on his face “-that chain was much too long, I can adjust it for you-” 

You dropped your phone and raised your gun, gripping it tightly with both hands, “I don’t need you to fix anything! I need you to stay away from me.” Terry was completely unphased, quirking an eyebrow at you as he shut the door behind him. He stroked the puppy’s soft fur as he walked towards you, his fingers lingering as if savoring the innocence that contrasted sharply with his darkness. He walked until he felt the barrel of your gun dig into his stomach.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that bunny?” He grabbed your wrists with one of his big hands, forcing you to point the gun down as he pushed you to walk backwards until your legs hit the back of your couch. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving into his, lips trembling, eyes darting between his frantically. Terry leaned over you, pausing in front of your face to really take you in, before he reached around you and set your still happily sleeping puppy down on your couch.

When he straightened back up, he brought his other hand down to wrestle the gun from your fingers, and you winced in pain at his roughness. 

“Don’t point this at someone unless you know how to use it.” his tone was dark and reprimanding, and you squirmed under his intense gaze as he carelessly threw the gun behind him. 

His closeness was making your body grow uncomfortably warm. You looked up at him, eyes wide with fear, body shifting nervously. “What the hell do you want?” Terry cocked his head, squinting his eyes at you, trying to understand if you were really that naive.

“I want you, obviously.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, trying to mask your anxiety with defiance.

“Oh and this is how you show me you want me? Do you think this shit is cute?” You didn’t know his eyes darkening was a warning, you were too caught up in your rising rage. “I mean are you fucking kidding me? Buy a girl a coffee, ask for her number. On what planet does stalking someone, like a fucking loser, ever w-” Terry reached up and gripped your face tightly, squeezing your cheeks so your mouth puckered and you couldn’t speak. His other hand grabbed the small of your back and pulled you into his hard body. You were stuck, embarrassingly so, as he looked into your eyes, straight through you.

His lips grazed your own as he spoke. “Careful love,” his grip on your face tightened and your eyes started to water, “just because I’m already yours,” he gently nipped your chin, letting his words sink in through your defenses, “doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that.” You trembled in his hold, body and mind unable to agree on the proper fight or flight response.

Terry moved his hand along your jaw, around the back of your head to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to hold his serious gaze.

“As I was saying, I want you. And after watching you for a while now, I realize you need me.” His fingers tightened in your hair, a dangerous mix of restraint and possession in his touch. You could feel your heart hammering, body tensed as his gaze bore into you, unyielding.

"I know what you’re thinking," he murmured, his voice a dark and smooth, "that you can resist, or that you still have control. But look at you—" his nose nuzzled your own, and a knowing smirk curved his mouth as you shivered. "All I had to do was step inside your world, and now you can’t imagine me gone."

You wanted to deny it, to pull away, but Terry’s grip was absolute. His other hand slid down your back to your ass barely covered by pajama shorts, his fingers pressing in just enough to leave an impression, a quiet reminder of his dominance as he pressed his body closer. Heat radiated between you, the space narrowing to nothing, and with every heartbeat, your defenses crumbled.

"You want me to stay away?" he whispered, his mouth inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own. "Tell me to leave, right now." His words held a challenge, daring you to take control—but every inch of his touch made your mind blur, need flickering to life in defiance of reason. His hand released your hair and trailed down your neck, leaving your skin tingling in its wake.

Your voice barely managed to break the silence, a breathless whisper. "I…"

"That's what I thought." His mouth descended on yours, not a kiss but a claiming. His lips pressed hard, unyielding, a mix of punishment and desire that left you gasping. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held a raw hunger that matched the fire now building in your own. 

Terry turned and used the hand on your ass to guide you down your hallway, and his ease moving around your home was unnerving. He brought you to your bathroom and positioned you in front of the mirror, his body pressed tightly against yours from behind, his broad hands splayed possessively over your hips. You could feel his huge bulge digging into your lower back, and you bit your lip trying to mask your excitement.

“Look at yourself,” his voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. One of his hands slid up, tilting your chin so that you were forced to meet his eyes in the reflection. His gaze was heavy and crazed, daring you to look away. “See what you do to me? And you’re gonna pretend you don’t feel it too?”

Your pulse raced as his hot hands roamed over your body, lingering on every inch as if he was committing you to memory. His fingers trailed down to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath to meet bare skin, his touch both teasing and possessive. He nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Already falling in line, just like I knew you would.” You felt his hand at your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, grinding against your plump ass, every inch of his body demanding your attention. “Go ahead, bunny… show me how much you need me.”

Your breath caught, and his eyes gleamed in the mirror, watching every reaction you couldn’t hide. His hands wandered higher, fingers cupping your breast and tweaking your nipples with practiced ease, each touch deliberate and maddeningly slow. He watched, satisfaction etched on his face, as you melted against him, every inch of you responding to his command. Your hips moved with his, mouth dropped open in silent pleas, pretty eyes searching his to anticipate when he’d strike next.

His voice was a whisper, dark and possessive, as he pressed his lips to your shoulder, never breaking your gaze in the mirror. “You’re mine,” he growled deep in his chest, his fingers roughly pulling your nipples, his mouth leaving a trail of heat against your skin. “I want to watch you fall apart… right here. Just like this.” You moaned helplessly, the pain, the dark promises, it was so much to process so suddenly, and left you compliant to his will.

You lifted your arms obediently as Terry pulled your shirt over your head, and his mouth watered at the sight. His firm touch pushed you until your face was mushed against the mirror, and you gasped at the cold glass grazing your nipples. You had to brace yourself by gripping the counter with your hands so you wouldn't fall into your sink completely.

“Fuck bunny, you look so good” Terry groaned, grinding into your ass harder, scratching his nails roughly down your back, “but I know I’m too big for you baby, I need to get you ready for me.”

And with that Terry dropped to his knees, pulling your shorts with him. He ran his hands appreciatively from your ankles to your thighs, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy just inches from his face. You squirmed, feeling his hot breath panting onto you, and he roughly gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you crudely, presenting your precious essence to his greedy gaze. He didn’t care anymore that stole his sanity, didn’t care that his attachment to you made you a weakness, you were his now. His to own, his to devour. He inhaled your scent deeply, his pupils dilated, and he gave himself over to the hungry darkness.

His tongue was everywhere at once suddenly, and you cried out at the feeling of his wet lips sucking your clit, his long tongue darting into you, and his hands smacking your ass, forcing you to move your hips to keep up with him. Terry could feel you dripping down his chin, and his eyes rolled back. He’d been starving for you so long and finally you were feeding his gluttonous desire. He moaned into you, bringing one of his hands up to rub your clit, lapping at your juices eagerly wanting to get every drop from you. You were a moaning, babbling mess and he couldn’t get enough. 

He pulled back slightly, leaving a bite on your thigh as he eyed your untouched hole, his fingers still harshly massaging your clit. You squealed as you felt him spit right on your virgin ass hole, moving to stand before his free hand smacked your ass roughly again.

“Stay. You can take it, baby.” And his tongue explored where no one’s had before, and you hated yourself for grinding back onto his face, drool leaking from your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation this strange man was causing you. It felt to fucking good. He moved his hand from your clit to thrust 2 fingers into you, groaning at your tightness, at your sweet taste, at the helplessness he heard in your voice. You came just like that, legs buckling, voice hoarse, body overheating.

He gave you no time to recover, quickly standing, not even taking the clothes off his sweating body, just pulling his achingly large dick free from his pants. He needed to have you, right the fuck now, but he also needed you present, in this moment with him. He reached around your limp body that was still leaning against your mirror, and snaked his arm up to firmly grip your neck. You protested tiredly, feeling him arch your body up until the back of your head was on his chest, and you moved your hands to his strong thighs to hold yourself up. 

Finally you opened your dazed eyes, taking in your fucked out self before locking eyes with Terry’s in the reflection, noting the delighted look on his face.

“Heyyy, there she is,” you hissed, feeling his hard tip slick through your wet folds as he began to grind, his deep voice coaxing you back to alertness, “that’s my good girl, don’t take your eyes off of us.” Terry watched you twitch and whimper as he smacked his leaking tip against your sensitive clit, and he gave you a sinister smile.

“I want you to watch yourself become mine.” His grip tightened on your neck as he roughly thrusted into you, only able to get halfway due to his large size, and you screamed quietly at the delicious stretch, nails digging into his thighs desperately trying to brace yourself.

“Oh fuck baby, that pussy is so much tighter than I thought” Terry stilled, looking down in fascination at the way your creamy essence trailed down the length of him he still couldn’t fit, and he almost came at the sight alone.

“Its okay bunny, I’m gonna get deep in her, watch me” he excitedly gripped your neck tighter, and brought his other hand to circle relentless fingers around your clit. You gasped and moaned and wiggled your hips slightly, and Terry had to close his eyes at the feeling, silently scolding himself for almost cumming too quickly. 

He started to give you shallow thrusts, deep groans leaving him as he felt more and more of his dick settle inside you, and you began to crave the feeling of being completely stuffed, so you started to grind back onto him and his head shot up, eyes finding yours again in the mirror.

“Yesss baby, that’s it. Take more of daddy’s dick” you couldn’t control your noises now, and Terry couldn’t even appreciate the fact that he was fully inside you because you were throwing your ass back onto him so fucking well, ass smacking loudly on his thighs. He released your neck, and used both hands to grip your hips, pulling you back harder.

“This pussy is so good baby, I fucking knew it would be” your head bobbled at the strength of his thrusts, and your eyes never left his face, compelled to being good for him, to earn his praises. “And this pussy is all mine, say it.” His nails dug into your hips pulling you harder, and you disgustingly loved that you’d have marks later to help you remember that all of this was real, and that it really happened. 

“Yesss daddy this pussy is yours” you moaned helplessly, tears flowing once again down your cheeks at the feeling of his tip harshly kissing your g spot from this angle. You brought your hands up above you, to grip the back of his head, turning your head slightly so you can look directly into his smokey gray eyes. “I’m gonna fucking cum daddy, you’re gonna make me cum” Terry was transfixed, sweat rolling down his face, mouth hanging open as your pussy squeezed down tightly onto him with your orgasm. This beautiful object of his sick obsession, his helpless bunny he needed to protect from the world, coming undone just for him, finally.

Terry pulled out of you suddenly, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he shot hot streams of cum on your ass, hands holding on to your hips as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality. Your hands stayed wrapped around his neck, too afraid you’d drop right to the ground if you let go, and Terry struggled to catch his breath as he rested his softening dick on your ass cheek. His voice was quiet when he spoke again.

“I know reality will sink in for you later tonight, when I’m gone” his hands softly massaged your hips as he continued, "Try to run, if you want. I’d love the excuse to come find you again." He chuckled softly, and you shivered knowing he was dead serious.

~~~~~~~

Happy halloween ya freaks 👻

[ithinktheyloveme]

Baby, I Fall Inlove Every Summertime

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. Sunsets at the beach with Satoru

ᯓ★ Gojo Satoru x g/n reader

ᯓ★ cheesy fluff!!

ᯓ★ wc : 740~

a/n : been rewatching some 2000s romcoms recently, so this is gonna b rly cheesy and ironic hehe enjoy.

A beautiful symphony of waves gently crash into eachother, birds sing into the hazy orange hues of the sky, yet all you can focus on is your stupidly pretty boyfriend. You look down to see the strongest sorcerer, the Gojo Satoru, reduced to a fluffy heep, laying comfortably on your stomach. Most of the beach-goers have already settled, either already gone, or packing up, leaving the scenery feeling perfectly intimate. You peak at the silly manga Gojo's reading and card your hand through his milky white tussle of hair, feeling each soft strand slipping in between your fingers.

"What's wrong, sweets?" He asked while reaching out to your hand, his eyes lighting up with a playful glint. You chuckle at the feeling of his tender touch and continue brushing through his hair, "it's nothing...just wondering how the hell you can get this kind of hair using crusty 3 in 1 shampoo." Gojo abruptly drops his manga and pouts, looking up at you "Heyyy! It's not my fault I'm so perfect and—ouch!" He gasps as a flick lands on his forehead, cutting off his cocky ramblings.

You blink at him, speechless.

From this angle, you can see the warm glow of the setting sun illuminating his heavenly blue irises in the just the right ways. You think you might get hypnotized if you stare too much.

He suddenly cups your face with his hands, snapping you out of your trance. Gojo's hands are warm on your cheeks, though still wrinkly from your previous beach endeavors. His blown out pupils dialate even more as he inches closer. "You know," he murmurs, "I could get used to this whole 'admiring' thing, since you're always sooooo mean to poor old me." He drags out his syllables like a fussy kitten clawing for your attention.

“Owwww!” he whines, feigning hurt as you land yet another soft flick to his poor forehead. "You're such a freakazoid, Satoruuuuu!" you whine, trying to push him away. His hold on your face doesn't falter, now squishing your cheeks together. "But I'm yooouuuuur freakazoid, baby," he says, mushing your face against his palms. "Sato—" you struggle to utter his name. "Ruuu—". He abruptly stops his devillish ministrations, "Yesssss, baby? he chimes in a sickeningly saccharine tone.

Just as you're about to retort, Gojo leans impossibly closer to you, as if observing every inch of your pretty face. His mischievous grin never faltering, but theres a new formed intimacy in the air. And for a moment, everything around you seems to disappear--just the two of you, sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, the faint scent of salty air, and his handsome face perfectly enveloped in a warm orange glow. In his intense eyes, you see pools of celestia, vast and endless. His pale blue irises speckled with silvers of stardust and glimmer, swirling in his eyes. They hold the quiet majesty of the heavens, as though the very essence of the universe were poured into him.

You can feel the comforting weight of his body, along with the intoxicating warmth of his breath on your skin, contrasting the cold gusts of wind. A swelling feeling builds up from inside of you, softly squishing your chest. You divert from his gaze to fight your sudden wave of nervousness.

"Hey, eyes on me, pretty," he coos, his voice low and tender as he softly directs your face towards him. "What? Do I make you nervous or something?". You feel the bubbling warmth in your chest quickly rise to your face, now blushing at his bold advances. His teasing demeaner is still present, but now you see a glint of something else. "Cat got your tongue huh? What is it you were gonna tell me, baby?".

You shift your position to sit up, his head now laying on your plush lap. His words hung in the air, the tension felt ten folds thicker. Your heart was beating out of your chest, following the rhythm of his, as if mending together into one.

And suddenly, without thinking, without hesitation, you kiss him.

You feel his soft lips caress yours as he melts into you. He rests his hand on your face and holds you like porcelain, as if you're the most delicate thing in the world. The feeling in your chest intensifies with every touch, intoxicating you. 

And the world fades into the backround, leaving only you and Gojo.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

[hwaightme]

Feel alive

(masterlist) (taglist)

🌑 pairing: strictland!seonghwa x gn!singer!reader 🌑 genre: fluff, angst, dystopian, sci-fi, noir, music, lovers to enemies to lovers 🌑 summary: after escaping the confines of prestige academy you find yourself singing at 'morpheus' - an underground bar and club for strictland outcasts. except this reality, too, crumbles before you. your fate is again in the hands of the same man, and you are forced to ask yourself: what does it mean to 'feel alive'? 🌑 wordcount: 9.5k total 🌑 warnings/tags: semi-edited, authoritarian regime (strictland/z/universe z), lore-inspired, guns/gunshots, implied attack on club, implied violence, crime, alcohol/drinking, implied organised criminal networks, discussions about death/murder/execution, nihilism/existentialism, 'bout as dark as the diary entries, long lost lovers, starcrossed, hope, blue bird, jazz, uprisings 🌑 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🌑 a/n: noir hwa, ateez synthwave song quartet, and lore ponderings. hope you enjoyed <3 any notes, reblogs, comments, asks are always welcome! much love!

The lights dimmed, and it was as if the jazz bar never existed in the first place. The worn seats occupied by drunks who liked to pretend they had taste, sofas in the far corner reserved for big shots and well-established scum with pretty young accessories on either arm, the bar that sold everything under the rays of the dying sun and evil moon, it all disappeared with the dawn of the spotlight falling upon your alluring silhouette. A simple, yet elegant sleek black dress with a hint of shimmer that graced your curves seemed to shine in the glimmering illumination. The delicate silver accessories were stars in the hypnotising sky, the allure of an unreachable universe becoming overwhelming as your hands glided over the length of the microphone to find purchase on the stand. The music, starting from a low rumble, was an echo of the abyss surrounding you, manifested only at the softest inhale. After what could have been the drums and trumpet, or could have been the heavens announcing the beautiful singer’s presence finished their spontaneous introduction, Seonghwa had the pleasure of forgetting his purpose, at least for as long as the song lasted. He could drift into a sultry paradise, seduced by what had to be a siren’s call, and regard the customers of the Morpheus bar with something less than loathing.

As soon as he cleared the last of the russet coloured drink he had ordered in one gulp and set the glass down on the bar, shutting his eyes momentarily to focus on the warmth of the alcohol running down his throat, Seonghwa found the fingers of his right hand softly drumming out the song in accompaniment, each digit hitting one note, another, again and again. Back in the day, it had not been often that his visits to the bar occurred at the same time as the one and only Y/N’s performances, but when they did, he swore he could see the smog clear and tomorrow become a certainty. The music consumed him whole and even though he knew down to the second when the magic would be extinguished, a part of him still retained the hope that the spell would never be broken. Not when the only encore he could guarantee for himself was another torturous raid on an establishment such as this one, or another feverish witch hunt for those who had regained their ability to feel and to think freely. All in the name of a faceless leader who even Seonghwa himself had only met a handful of times despite being in a high ranking position of Guardian Inspector - above the standard white-clad machines, above the so-called officials clad in military uniform, he was in charge of ‘keeping civil hands clean’. At what cost? Perhaps his own emotions were the price.

The dark-haired man caught himself wondering how many people in this bar could enjoy themselves to the fullest. How many of these poor unfortunate souls that succumbed to the rush for easy money and easy love were true followers of hedonism, and were spending their days in an enviable bliss? Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa regarded his surroundings with a subtle scorn. He was well aware that he was to blame for it all too; The regime, to retain the ultimate, unwavering control over the citizens, even those who wholeheartedly believed they were well-hidden from the authoritarian judgement, was a supplier of one of the many pleasures after all - toying with people's weakness before the formidable seven sins only to lead them into full submission. The Strictland government, despite propagating ‘human emotion being a disease’ had anything anyone could ever desire, and Seonghwa was one of the many agents to guarantee long term partnerships, addiction to the illusion of a better life, and most importantly, stability and security for the people who had taken him in all that time ago when no one else would, and had given him a chance. 

While he was the bringer of demise, the counter of profits drenched in crushing dread and the hand of twisted and subjective justice, at the same time, Seonghwa believed that it gave him all the more right to judge the society he was a part of. After all, he was not the one being fooled. Inevitably, his glimmering orbs settled back on the singer’s gently swaying form as they broke into the chorus, and nearly shuddered as your gaze, from languid, half-lidded but oh so appealing eyes, met his, only for a split second but it was as if hellfire itself embraced him and greeted him like an old lover. Each lyric - a personal address as you moved along at a sensual pace, the song smoother than the most expensive silk. He smirked to himself as he caught his ponderings accelerating uncontrollably, attempting to squash them under a sober, calculating fist. You were no fool either. An entertainer, measuring out each attack like a venomous serpent, not threatened, seeking fun in the reveal of vulnerability of your listeners - each one believed that you existed for them and them alone, and in the hypnotic state added bill after bill to their already hefty tips in the hopes that at least some would reach you, and you would give them that beautiful smile, maybe something more. Truly, a shame that the owner of Morpheus owed the regime a lot more than all the tips, so-called donations and what, compared to the rest of the money, was "honest" earnings all combined. The Captain of the Inspectors in charge of this little project had gotten a little too nice as of late, at least that was what Seonghwa had concluded, but it was not him who was going to pay for it, naturally.

Twisting his head, Seonghwa took note of the familiar faces that appeared at the entrance to Morpheus to join the rest of the Inspectors that were posing as regular customers, cleverly dispersed among the filth that reeked of dependence. Of course, dependence on what the regime was selling. There was no other way about it. Nodding the two men a curt hello, Seonghwa let his eyes trace back a swift path to the magnificent performance. He paid attention to how your dainty earrings glinted even in the lowered light, and how, with every subtle movement, he could see the gorgeous dress tighten just a little around your body. You were so out of place in this scene, an angel in the darkest pits of hell, a little bird struggling against the wiring of a cage, curling inwards, growing smaller until the last flutter of the wings. As he was caught up in admiring your beautiful style, grace, and listening to your sweet, warm tone, one of the two newcomers, a fellow brother in governmental salvation to Seonghwa, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and occupied the seat beside him.

“As flashy as ever, Woo. Might as well tattoo ‘trouble’ on your forehead,” he motioned towards his not so inconspicuous suit that made him look more like a mafioso rather than an average joe. Seonghwa had to admit, however, that the outfit looked too damn good on him, but this was going to be just one of those things he was to take to his grave. The man did not need his ego fed any more than what the ladies he finds as company for the less busy nights not hounded by the lower ranking Guardians provide.

“I’d carve a pretty smile on that face. Not even a hello?”

“Hi San,” Seonghwa deadpanned, looking past his friend who he noted had tied his hair into a low ponytail, and right at the other half of his duo. Wooyoung and San, two peas in a pod, and probably the last people one would ever wish to see if they were in trouble with any of the Inspectors.

“Aren’t you mean today… what, pretty star over there didn’t give you attention?” Wooyoung retorted with a smirk creeping onto his lips. With a raise of an eyebrow and a shake of the head, Seonghwa dismissed any thoughts of peace that he had been imagining, settling back to regular business.

Rolling his shoulders back, he let the scene come and envelop him. It was no coincidence that so many of the Inspectors had gathered, especially with Wooyoung and San now closing in the arrivals. It did not take a genius to guess that Captain had changed his terms, and this was no longer going to be an ordinary shakeout for money or customary information gathering from the owner of Morpheus. The owner had stalled for far too long, had strayed from ‘good practices’ of a loyal rat, and it was time to set an example for others. Disease was the human emotion, and this bar was a breeding ground for thought crime, was it not?. Lowly, lonely creatures who gathered here were all examples of where society had gone astray from the perfect vision Z had put forward, at least… most were. Those who had forgotten the meaning of feeling despite having regained the ability, those, to Seonghwa, were the true vermin. He regarded the few gathered who were most definitely not meant to be part of this story. A middle aged, haggard man with flushed cheeks and what had to be his fifth glass of the cheapest liquor on the menu. Some bigshot from another town who he recalled some of the Inspectors in charge of patrolling the area identifying this morning - no ties, no money, just a lot of ambition that was to amount to nothing. A few lowlives here and there who were faceless, in shades of grey. All not meant to be here, and yet by some stroke of fate, here they were to remain. Finally, he drifted back to the main act, still at the centre of the stage, the sole luminance among the tainted - those who had no hope in making Seonghwa feel anything but numbness. You were the only one working here. Earning your meagre pay - he had discreetly checked the bar’s balance books when the old man behind the counter was too distracted to care for a person of his kind strolling into his office that was concealed in a dark corridor. It was shameful how you were still in this far less than grand establishment, sharing your angelic vocals, despite obviously not having any compensation nor appreciation of your efforts. Perhaps the moments on stage were the only time when you felt alive; the thought would not leave Seonghwa. After much investigation playing pretend, he was confident in his conclusion: you had not changed.

You were on the tattered poster plastered up outside - the one and only, shows every Friday night. Perceive and behold the spectacular ethereal being as you sang songs that spun threads out of a spectator’s very soul, blood trickling from the cracks in their shattered form turning to gold. You sang their… his pain, promised him his glory, soothed and comforted him. Seonghwa was well aware that you were the sole reason that he had shifted his visits to Morpheus to this particular day of the week and monitored the illegal location so closely, otherwise, your face would never grace his corrupt, bleak vision. You did not deserve to go with the rest. When breaking free, one was not supposed to fall into another trap, and yet, here you were. You were not meant to be here, littering the ground that you stood on as the last of the gunpowder would settle on your perfect skin, your long, alluring eyelashes. The onyx-haired man felt a shift within himself as he mused the outcome of the unspoken plans - by the way in which Wooyoung leaned back onto the counter, a grin dancing on his features and by the way San was acting particularly kindhearted to the lonely staff who was rushing about, struggling to keep up with the visitors’ habits, he knew that tonight, they were not planning on hearing any cries for mercy. They were here to complete a mission for a higher purpose. And that mission was far from the sweet music which he had loved his whole life, and finally found again.

“They’re not supposed to be here.” he mumbled, his voice obscured by yours, echoing across and elevating to a sensual culmination.

“Aren’t we all? We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. Think of them as a sculpture or something if it makes things easier,” Wooyoung took out a rolled up bill to put between his lips - a habit that he had formed after a few too many hits on the back of his head by San, an interesting approach to make a man quit smoking. He called it ‘smoking capitalism’, earning quite a few chuckles from the Inspectors, Seonghwa included. 

“So say someone’s going to scope the ring to clean it up a bit, would you let them hit our favourite auntie?” he asked, referring to the friendly cleaner who was probably the only one in the entire city who did not bat an eye at the violent matches that Wooyoung managed under the wraps for the regime, instead cooing over the fighters he brokered for and giving the men an extra helping of her home-cooked delicacies. In many ways, she was a mother figure for the Guardian Inspectors, despite her being at risk, every day, of being taken to the Red Humans should one of them be in a ‘different kind of mood’ on an arbitrary morning.

“Definitely not. But this singer. Who are they to you?”

“A pawn.”

“A pawn?”

“Mhm. I can pawn them in for rewards.”

“Suppose they are pretty enough, if that’s what you’re thinking of…”

“Goodness, take the pimp out of the bordello but can’t take the bordello out of the pimp. That business was shut a while back for you, no?” with a groan, Seonghwa retaliated at Wooyoung’s rather out of pocket suggestions. Over the many years of serving Z in not so ethical ways, the man had tried on a few too many hats and seen a few too many hats to retain even a sliver of compassion towards anyone except those closest. It was understandable. Odd, but understandable.

“Kidding. But for real though, what’s the use?” Wooyoung bit down on the bill softly, gaze following San who had moved towards a couple of underlings that had gathered in a booth off to the side, towards the far corner of the bar. Clearly, he was checking if they had read the room.

“Say, isn’t it Captain’s niece’s birthday soon? We don’t exactly have a musical act to hand since…” Seonghwa trailed off, knowing that Wooyoung knew what incident he was referring to, involving an accusatory phrase, a short temper and a very professional shot from a sniper rifle from the boss’s office window into the temple of a figure that was storming away from one of the many Inspector accommodations. Another one to fertilise the soil with.

“Smart. I’ll give it to ya. If you sort the business out before showtime, pretty thing’s all yours.” Wooyoung responded, patting his side where, underneath his shirt, Seonghwa knew was a holstered pistol. Pushing himself away from the counter he stood up, adjusting his long, leather coat and glove. It was not that he had a particular preference, but ever since entering the new life upon being pardoned for feeling, a life where he had to say found a home, he could not help but wish to always look just that little bit more put together, even if only to appear loyal. 

“Cheers. I’ll get them a nice candle-lit dinner to soften them up and then inform Cap’,” sounding purposefully sarcastic, Seonghwa mumbled under his nose, well aware that this was not a method that had ever been in use. One glower and curt phrase had always been enough - the rest was simply the heart’s doing masked by odd humour. 

“Awh, look at you, how sweet and lovely. What a darling,” Wooyoung teased, sending Seonghwa a wink. The music was fading away, the last notes landing on his ears, marking every moment.

“One more word and you’ll be the main course.” with his index finger he poked the centre of his fellow Inspector’s chest in threat, maintaining a cold expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to be roasting out here tonight, so make it hot with pretty thing.”

“Filth,” the taller man spat, knowing that attempting to counter his friend was nearly impossible - out of all the people he knew only Captain could fully round him in, and even then Wooyoung had a smile on his face, much to Seonghwa’s confusion.

“It’s not me who is with the heart eyes.”

“I just saw an opportunity,” playing with the leather piece that buttoned up to protect his neck, he eyed you, waiting for you to finish. Unknown to you, you did not have much time left before your very life would be placed on a scale and thoughtlessly pushed to lose against the weight of usual Strictland business. Such was the violent, catastrophic illusion of order, such was the structure that had been Seonghwa’s twisted saving grace. He was going to be doing you a favour by taking you away, won’t he? Either way, you would be out of work, and he was helping you with a little job search from one of the highest payers - chivalrous and kind hearted, that was who he was. How else could the Inspectors form any partnerships and feast on forbidden fruit otherwise? Who was he kidding - a soul like you was not meant for a life like this. But he had to try. He needed time to think. 

“Sure. Sure. An opportunity to grab the gorgeous star for yourself.”

“Oh shut up will you?” snapping, Seonghwa were desperately trying to cut the conversation short, seeing the window for him to make a beeline for the edge of the stage, towards which you promptly setting off after finishing your set, and receiving a dismal lack of applause - what else would he expect from the crowd gathered in Morpheus? Especially when the stench of iron and the final judgement was mere minutes away from materialising.

“You know that’s not my style.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be good. Hope you did not block my mustang,” throwing one last comment behind him, the solemn man was off, only barely catching Wooyoung’s half-hearted response.

“Have I ever…” 

The mission was simple. Since he was dismissed from the less than pleasant task of wiping out the bar, considering that two more senior Inspectors had made their appearance and were clearly more in the know of what was brewing, Seonghwa had only a couple of minutes before all freedom would cease to exist. And then, no heaven could bestow mercy upon neither him, nor the beauty he had come here to save for no logical reason, instead relying on some hazy version of hope and nostalgia. He had parked his ink black ride around the block - out of sight for unwanted eyes, and perfectly positioned for getaways just like this. If you could catch the Inspector’s drift, that was. One could only pray that the dazzler on stage was just as dazzling when it came to reading between the lines. He had perhaps even less than the estimated time to explain himself before Wooyoung and San would call the owner over to get the real evening show started. Time was ticking along with the skyrocketing pace of his heart as he stopped you on your tracks with a slightly outstretched leg, only to move forward and cast a shadow over you.

It was difficult to remain level-headed when, even at such proximity, in the normally less than flattering lighting, you were nothing short of a deity. Something out of fairy tales, stories of royalty or angels in kingdoms far far away, those that were not supposed to exist. But here was one, staring right into his eyes with your beautiful expressive orbs, as deep as the history that Seonghwa had raced here to try and reignite. A universe in your irises, an all-consuming black hole in your pupils, beckoning Seonghwa, leading him into a stupor before he stuffed his hands into his pockets, bringing himself out of the momentary trance by force. Time was not on his side, and he knew that it would never be unless he kept on running.

“Lovely song, that was.”

“Indeed. ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ is one of my favourites. Did you enjoy the performance?” Your speaking voice was different, of course, but nonetheless struck that stunning familiar chord within Seonghwa, one that should never see the light of day if he were to remain how he had to be. It was terrifying, how he was ready to let go of his resurrected image as an Inspector for a chance to turn the past into the present. 

You were polite. The features of your alluring face were hinting at a genuine interest, an appreciation of every movement, every breath you were taking. Though, in Seonghwa’s own line of work, particularly in the stage of undercover investigation, this was simply the usual. Show a smile, bat the eyelashes, make business, disappear. Genuine interest was an artform, but even if you were indeed expressing it in the way with which he was familiar, it felt so natural that he almost wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe this daydream who had come to change the colours of his occasional Fridays, his hunts for those straying from what Z had deemed ‘right’, leaving glimmers of memory to last him through the weeks when he had to be numb to life itself until he could come and see you again. It did not mean much to you, most likely. You were strangers in your respective new lives, and had Captain not made the decision to teach the owner of Morpheus a lethal lesson, you would have remained that way. Drifting together for a few hours, remaining distant, and drifting apart again. A forever flowing story that was to rekindle a starcrossed ‘once upon a time’ but never have that sought after resolution. A dream that reminded Seonghwa of why his unlikely survival was a blessing. As your eyes revealed a hopefulness, a plea for praise, Seonghwa gave you a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“I look forward to seeing you, you know.”

“O-oh?” Seonghwa could barely contain his surprise, the previously cool demeanour cracking into a raised eyebrow. Could you remember?

“Yes! You always sit at the bar, second stool from the left. And order… what is it… a brandy, right?”

He would be lying if he were to say he was not surprised by your suddenly chipper attitude. Almost like you were a kid who entered a candy shop for the first time to see all of your favourite treats, you excitedly revealed to Seonghwa your observations. While it was endearing to see, the shuffling behind him, along with the idea that he was not the only one intently observing left the Inspector with a sense of unease, nearly throwing him off from the initial goal that motivated him to brave talking to you in the first place.

“In…deed?”

The singer, who was previously an astounding yet distant figure captivating all who cared to look even once, rapidly transitioned into someone who he almost found endearing, the keeper of far too many qualities that cemented the rightness of his decision. You were not meant to be here, he repeated to himself. Mutters around the bar were getting louder, and as the rest of the musicians filed out of the main hall and crammed into a tiny room off to the side, in Seonghwa’s peripherals he noted San’s steady, seemingly innocent amble between the scuffed round tables and equally unpleasantly antique chairs.

“You are the only one who listens, so, how could I not notice? Actually, I wanted to talk to you properly, or at least say thank you but didn’t want to impose.”

As much as he wanted to sink into the warmth of your words and allow you to recognise him on your own accord, the rippling commotion that was finally rearing its ugly head spurred him on and struck his heart with an icy, calculating mace. He had a minute tops, knowing Wooyoung’s love for never counting down to zero before beginning.

“Well, let’s talk. Outside,” The black-clad man tried to walk off, aiming for the dark corridor at the end of which was the fire exit, but when you did not move, rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink-”

“Cute. Another time though,” seeing the tinge of disappointment in your gaze was new, and entirely unexpected, but gave Seonghwa plenty of leeway to sway you into following him, “since you watched me enough, I bet you can guess who I am. Or, what I do for work. Right?” 

A steely glare, leaving nothing open to interpretation. For additional evidence, he demonstratively adjusted his coat, loosening the belt he had tied around his waist to reveal a leather holster, discreet, gun always within reach. Attentive to detail as ever, you took note of the inconspicuous design of the pistol before he let it disappear once again under the fabric - in this city, there were few who had access to any form of weaponry, the items being so highly regulated by the government that it was nearly impossible to purchase or get licensing. Your mind began to list off options; Seonghwa clearly was neither a standard Android Guardian due to the lack of mandatory uniform, nor a scruffy criminal whom you had gotten used to over the time that had passed, nor part of the police force, nor a Class 2 Prestige Academy student. It only left an answer that shook you to the core. Of course, it was not that you did not hold the assumption in your heart. As a matter of fact, you had previously assumed that you were used to greeting people from different walks of life, all gathered in the same place, at the same time for what you wanted to believe was a ‘good time’. That was what drove you to live the life that you were living. Exist in this space, despite your pay and your security almost always not being enough, but you would give even that up if that meant you could keep your freedom.

Seonghwa was effortlessly graceful, determined in every step and gesture, not a single movement wasted. In a sense, it was as if he had purposefully learned and memorised the most efficient adjustments of the body, letting himself metamorphose into a lithe, agile animal. It was terrific, and terrifying, how at any moment he could pounce, and you would never know when until it was too late. For this hint of a reason, you decided to follow the man’s unspoken command, only whispering an airy inquiry after the other musicians, which he coldly dismissed:

“You need a better band anyways.”

---

The gravity of the situation only began to settle in when the biting breeze outside of the stuffy bar hit you, seeking opportunity to tousle your locks. The strands that had managed to fall over your face were trembling, the only sign revealing your suppressed distress as the last of Morpheus's dusk-like illumination was shut from your vision with a confident slam. Your eyes widened as you watched the Inspector, or in other words, your personal grim reaper, flip a lock on the door - previously thought to be inaccessible to anyone except the owner, done so masterfully as though he were the one who had installed it in the first place. An exit, a saving grace for innocents inside, turned into a dead end - more symbolic than one would ever initially assume. He trailed up the length of his arm stopping for a moment at the material that covered his shoulder, listening to leather hit leather. Seonghwa could only find calculated resolve within himself. This was the usual for him, and that after weighing all the options, he had logically come to the conclusion that the demise of the people inside was indeed the most attractive option.

As you heard the first shot resound inside of Morpheus, you shuddered, but did not dare stop following the man in the trench coat as he strode on ahead, hands remaining in his pockets. To any onlooker it would seem that he was relaxed as ever, out for a late night walk in a neighbourhood he knew better than he knew himself. Breath in, breath out; you were trying to remind yourself of the simple act, focusing harder than you had ever done during your performances. Imagining your diaphragm stretching, letting the lungs take in as much air as possible and-

Another shot. Breath knocked from you, balance off kilter, you desperately wanted to run. Anywhere. Maybe you should have stayed, not picked up on the subtle offer of your life being spared. In that way you would not have to live with the guilt of not having said anything to your fellow bandmates, not having said thank you to the owner for… what was there to thank anyone for? Out of habit, you lifted a hand to brush over your ear, echoes of the time when you had first felt emotion rippling across your body, making you shiver. You were all fools misled by hope for a brighter tomorrow in a world that was permanently overcast. Where did this running lead you? Where did your wistful song guide you? Back into the arms of the apocalypse - broad-shouldered with hair the colour of ink, the last thing you would see before disappearing for good. At least you should thank your former so-called colleagues for the information about the common demise. Tears welled up in your eyes as you obeyed the lean man’s orders and practically toppled into the black vehicle parked by the Morpheus, a lonesome yelp masked by the gunfire and indecipherable orders. 

You had no idea where he was taking you, and you did not dare ask. The man reminded you of all you had been trained to avoid in your new life, a threat, a weapon, a soldier. His gloved right hand remained resting beside the gearshift, while his left coldly gripped the steering wheel. Not a single one of his muscles appeared to be relaxed, and not a single movement had a semblance to anything natural. An automaton in the driver’s seat, you wanted to feel comforted by the idea that you were the only one truly human in the car, for the idea that someone as brutal as a Guardian Inspector could be conscious or decisive was too strong of an agony. 

At the same time, in the moments where the Inspector turned his head to check the surroundings, you noted something familiar. He dashed past the blue, purple and aquamarine signs that lined the streets of the district you had learned to love, himself turning into a painting. Be it in the angles that formulated his stern face, or in the elegance that he was unable to conceal, the past crawled out of a long-forgotten cavern in your psyche and gnawed at your nerves, just out of reach of realisation. Perhaps in another time, you had known him. Perhaps in one of the banned art pieces, you had seen him. At the same time, this could not be the first Guardian Inspector you had encountered - they were all similar enough in demeanour, so what was another face? Equally as entitled, above the law. Above a runaway like you. You were vermin. The enemy. A traitor to the Academy, to Strictland, to Z himself. Or so you were told. The only thing that could be different about this Inspector, was that he could be your last.

A sharp stabbing sensation spread from your temples and what had to be through your skull, jabbing into bone and into the cerebellum. Nauseous, you shut your eyes and clutched your head in a futile attempt to seek some form of relief. The car roared, and a sudden stench of rubber and concrete penetrated through every crevice, choking your senses and making you taste the acrid pollution. One turn, another, your organs were being jolted back and forth as the monstrous engine urged on by none other than the embodiment of oblivion dragged the car across eternal misery of long-abandoned districts.

“Oh goodness…” a feeble whisper left your lips. You reached out to grab hold of the door handle, peering at the grooves to find at least something to focus on. His vision was swimming in your eyes, etchings of your surroundings morphing into repressed memories. 

A boy marching beside you to class, head held at the angle commanded to all academy students. A young man, dressed in all white with black locks parted in the middle. A solemn stare, unreadable, though not fully blank as it should be. But at the same time, how could you, another student of Prestige, detect that something was not quite right? Since when could you feel? You lifted your head cautiously to try peeking at the Inspector again, but he was frozen. Only the abrupt tightening of his gloved hand around the steering wheel and a determined turn reminded you that he was not quite an automaton. 

“I must be dreaming…” you blinked away a teary blur, and clenched onto your dress for the remainder of the journey, feverishly recounting whatever lyrics you could. Your little safe haven, your precious prayers to the arts - truth which you had discovered after abandoning everything you could have been.

Your hand moved on instinct to the side of your head, feeling for what once had been the hub of your consciousness. A chip that made you feel right at home, heartless, but with a purpose. Forty years of education, an eternity to serve something greater than you; clear goals, a mission for your generation and many that would come after you. Hand in hand, you were soldiers of a catastrophically closed-minded society; at the time, however, you could not be ‘happier’. Or rather, more numb. Because you did not know of negative nor positive, you could not experience either, and so remained in a stable equilibrium, just as the superpower of this forlorn land had instructed. Disease was the human emotion. You were ‘healthy’. Until that boy appeared in your life, and revealed himself to you.

Bright-eyed, hopeful, excited. So unlike anyone. And against better judgement, you let the inklings of curiosity drip over your heart, and the beginnings of affection take flight. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, a smile brighter than the sun, a soothing mellifluous voice, vowing to you that you could build another life together. A life much more beautiful than one constructed with deception and hollow propaganda. What could a little tap of a breaker do to you? Apparently, it could change your destiny. 

As you massaged your temples, you locked gazes with the man in front of you, but met the boy from your past in the mirror. That same worry, knotted eyebrows, concern and care so evident you could touch it if your fingers grazed his cheek. You could not move, even when he turned back to the road, and continued to stare at the rear view mirror in the hopes of seeing your daydream again. You had to be wrong. This had to be you hallucinating. You must be just… afraid. Out of your mind. And so you were recalling one of the few times when you thought the world could do you no harm. 

“Get out,” a command. As cold as steel. The engine was still roaring in your ears, despite the surroundings having gone dead silent.

A click. The doors unlocked. You could run if you wanted to. Though you were fully aware that the action would shorten your lifespan to a mere few seconds. You remained seated, gaze falling onto your lap, and listened to the painful succession of sounds that led the man to open your door, and roughly grab your upper arm.

“I said, get out,” you followed him like a rag doll, knowing that any attempts to resist would put you into even more danger. At the same time, even though the Inspector was obviously attempting to instil terror and a twisted respect for him, he could not face you. Consciously he made an effort to barely raise his lashes, thus keeping his scrutiny concealed. Reading through his hesitation was easy enough.

He could not keep his hand on you for a second longer after you stood up straight, darting away as though you were an open flame. The man cleared his throat and locked the car, before gesturing towards an abandoned building that loomed over the gravelly opening where you had completed your journey. Comically, it reminded you of Prestige, even though the latter was of much larger proportions and possessed a more unique shape. Perhaps it was the fact that this block, what used to be an apartment building, was crumbling, made you think of the academy’s inner workings. Rotting away. The cogs in the machine tearing each other apart.

This might be your end or your beginning, you were not sure which one. With an astounding loyalty, you let yourself be guided into the long-forgotten cement fortress, up exposed stairs with metal railings, past walls left bare, illuminated by an exposed moonlight, laying down a carpet of silver. It was oddly easy to think that life was beautiful when it was likely going to be taken away from you. The walk was silent, and the longer it lasted, the more at peace you felt. The odd step rang out and echoed like the gunshots you had heard, so surreal that you could barely believe it. It must have been a joke. Fireworks, or someone just being a little boisterous. Morpheus had seen so many colours of Z’s regime, it could not disappear now… oh who were you kidding. It was done for. You little version of an escape. Your space to feel.

As you made sneaky glances at the Inspector to your right, who not so ceremoniously had loosened his coat’s belt once more to have easy access to his gun, you could not help but think of the boy. You had followed his advice, made a run for it while he had been taken away by the Red Humans. Two youngsters who betrayed the regime. But who was truly free? The one who had been exterminated, or the one who had to live in fear, but at least felt the ruthless emotion?

The enigmatic man slowed down, and so did you. He made a turn, so did you, acting as his shadow. You were certain that you were probably breathing at the same rate. An empty hallway, lined with equally empty rooms and destroyed apartments. From a humble abode to rubble, you could see the horrific vistas of the district, and the drop to the cold ground below. No wall, no security, no certainty. It was only you and your fate in the form of a man who seemed to possess too much of a likeness to the keeper of your fragile adoration.

The Inspector walked in front and turned to face you. You froze, burning under his scrutiny. Eyes like scalding cold ice, assessing you, condemning you. Your best listener, now listening to your terrified heart. For what could be the last time, you felt alive. As the man reached into his pocket, you prepared for the worst, however, he only motioned with his head for you to follow him. Confused, you obeyed, finding yourself in a more secluded corner of the floor, one which had remotely retained the appearance of an actual room. Stuck in the same few seconds, there were no further commands from the Inspector, causing your mind to wander, and lips to move on their own accord:

“I should not be here.”

“Neither should I,” he deadpanned, though his choice of words was unsettling. Wasn’t he on a mission?

“I should be dead,” you persisted.

“I should have more blood on my hands.”

A pause. You were in shock, pointlessly clinging onto your own upper arms, stuck in a false embrace. Like prey that had been cornered, you were beyond the point of trusting survival instincts. You simply wanted for the interaction, or dare you say, interrogation, to be over, so you could be given away to the Red Humans, to whatever the afterlife had to offer, in peace. If you were to be melted, then so be it. If your departure were to be short and sweet, so be it. But a little question in your head still remained, a persistent worm which you decided to unleash given your hopeless circumstances:

“Then why-”

“It is pointless to ask when there is no answer,” the man answered coldly, not sparing you a glance as he picked at a filthy off-white tulle which covered a blown out window - now just a frame, with his gloved hand, glaring at the pitiful greyness outside the abandoned building before wiping the hand off with a handkerchief produced out of the pocket into which he had stuffed his hand.

A few steps separated you, but you knew better than to try and make a run for it – the man was armed, and you assumed that the gun you spotted was not the only weapon in his arsenal. He was menacing, unpredictable, and very dangerous. Alongside that, as much as you hated to admit, but the Inspectors were nothing short of extraordinary when it came to their expertise and training. Unlike Android Guardians, they were the leading forces, capable of high-risk decision making and unparalleled critical thinking. If you were to try to describe them, you always ended up thinking of chess. That was what they were playing whenever they were out in the field.

In fact, it was for this exact reason that you were concerned about this Inspector’s behaviour – it was out of line. Inefficient. Sub-optimal. You wondered if this was a new strategy or there was a higher plan; there were so many possibilities that your head could start spinning. You dug your fingers into rapidly cooling flesh, waking yourself up from the distressed rumination. What was the Inspector going to do to you? You had followed his demands so far, and weren’t putting up a fight - what more could he want?

He was unreadable. Gestures unpredictable, expression stoic, he regarded you with an air of superiority characteristic of people from his class. Serpent-like and calculating eyes, regal nose, facial structure reminiscent of a statue, plush perfectly shaped lips – all were a nod to his upbringing, you bet. He did not feel real. Reminiscent of automatons that the regime sometimes used in place of regular Guardians during high-volume riots, he was what one would call the ‘ideal specimen’. Down to the strand of wavy hair that fell on his face, he was a beautiful painting of your worst nightmare. Life had been unkind to you, you decided. It only showed you something prettier than the night lights when it was the last thing you would see.

The man stepped towards you, and your eyelids slammed shut automatically. You did not wish to see your death. The sound of leather against leather, the tied coat belt, the creaking of ancient rotten wood planks under lacquered ankle boots. He must be getting ready to end you. Were you too high profile to be lying with the other bodies in the club? Were you more dangerous in the Inspector’s view, being a singer, or as one could say a ‘spreader’ of inappropriate entertainment. Was this treason? Terrorism? You were not sure – the sentence changed more than the weather. But were you an enemy? With confidence, you had to answer with a Yes. Having escaped the regime, and according to those who had helped you regain some parts of your past self, having had a part in the uprising within Prestige Academy, you were the worst kind of citizen of Strictland. Disobedient, unchanging, and influential. You were waiting for the cocking of a pistol, for cool metal to hit your head, and for the world to go even darker as you collapsed on to the floorboards. The man had to be taking out his gun. He must have taken you away from the raid to be particularly ruthless. A sadist? Maybe. You had no time to judge.

You felt the fabric of your shimmering dress under your fingertips, and imagined you were preparing for a show of a lifetime. You counted your inhales and exhales like you would do before a performance, and conjured an audience in your mind. More rustling, another step. He, that boy, no, young man, was in the audience. Still in the Prestige Academy uniform, but the chip was long gone. He was giving you an encouraging smile eager to hear what you had achieved in your time away from the academy. Leather caressed your hand and you flinched, comforted only by how cautious the action was. Hand turned to raise your palm to the omniscient skies, your illusions combined with reality - what was Seonghwa to give to you?

Funny, how in critical moments, the mind could give you what you had longed to forget. Seonghwa. His name tasted sweet, with a bitter aftertaste. A fine wine, dizzying, addictive. A handsome, talented student who had the future ahead of him, only to throw it away for the taste of something more ‘real’ in his eyes. Something cold was being pressed into your palm, reminiscent of a large bullet or a device your fingers could remember before your mind. Your eyes shot open and were met with a dream and a nightmare. Finally, it hit you. Behind the Inspector’s facade, a mask crafted by years of experience and brutality, was the same boy, who, just like now, pressed a breaker into your palm.

“Wake up.”

Your gaze fell to the intricate metal handiwork, spotting the carving of an ‘A’ contained in a circle right at the base. The taste of anarchy, an uprising, revolution, a hope for something better flowing through a tragic story you two had written. At last, it had a resolution, and you were more than content with who was holding the lethal pen. You stared at the breaker. The very thing that brought you out of an eternal somnolence, submission to a regime. You had woken up then, and never could sleep.

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer… the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…” you lifted your head once more, staring into Seonghwa’s softened eyes. He had matured, his features having become siren-like, dangerous, seductive. Befitting his character. You smiled sadly, “...or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing end them?” He remained quiet, as if he was the one waiting for you to decide your own destiny, “Shakespeare. Hamlet. Ever read it? Or do they not let you?”

“I-” he cleared his throat, concealing a pang of nervousness, “I am familiar with his work.”

“Mm, isn’t that a criminal offence?”

“What is?”

“Reading work exploring human emotion… sounds like treason to me.”

“Reading does not imply sympathising.”

“But you do.”

Again, a heavy pause. Seonghwa rocked from one foot to another one time, another - an old habit? Or an attempt to convince you that he was at least a fraction the same?

“I… I do not,” before you could scowl, he continued, “‘Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once’. I am more partial to this way of thinking.”

“Ah, the irony of it all.”

Your hand formed a fist around the device, and you kept on searching for fragments of the man you loved inside of the new Seonghwa before you. In flashes, you spotted glimmers of gold, feeble hints for something that could be concealed in the depths of his soul. 

“So, are you going to make me a valiant person?”

“What?” 

“Wasn’t that what you were supposed to be doing?” feeling a little more brave, you taunted him, wishing to see what his limit was. Whether he was lying to you just to set you at ease and make his job easier. So he could see one final sense of betrayal in your pupils.

“We are already dead, Y/N.”

---

Music. A universal language. The biggest risk for a community that someone wanted to silence. So you hummed one song after another, head leaning against Seonghwa’s shoulder as you sat on the concrete floor, in the corner of the room that was barely holding itself together. Bathed in silver light, you shared with him the luxury of reminiscing, mourned what had been lost only to have the feeling be replaced by a budding desire to wish upon anything at all.

Seonghwa might have lied to many of the Inspectors, and was in danger of facing a fate worse than extermination, but at least he did not lie to you. And because he did not lie to you, you were here; you were real. He could have the pleasure of having you beside him, wrapped up in his leather coat; your dress was not exactly ‘inhospitable conditions’ material, as pretty and befitting as it was. You were refusing to let go of the breaker as though it was the tether to a more sunny past, not that Seonghwa would ever dare pry it out of your hands. So long as you could keep singing for him forever. Even when music were to cease existing, and when the sky would fall down, he would still hear your voice. How many times had he visited Morpheus in secret, outside of his official inspections and scouting missions? How quickly had he transferred into a field role just for the chance to find you? How had he managed to remain alive even though his sentence had been supposedly set in stone, and he was still feeling? With each question, the answer grew blurrier and blurrier, until it no longer existed. Perhaps this was a manifestation of destiny. You were supposed to meet again after so much turmoil, so you did. Curious.

“What song do you like?” your voice, sleepy, serene, cut through his ruminations. Seonghwa looked down and to his side, meeting a gentle gaze. 

“What song do you want to sing?”

“Mm, no that’s not an answer,” you snaked your hands around his arm and pulled him closer. 

“But I like everything you sing. Because you sing it.”

“Sweet, but I’m at a loss.”

“Then let’s be quiet. Together. For as long as we can.”

“There’s not too long left, is there?”

Your question was rhetorical. Both you and Seonghwa were aware of it. Time in Strictland was not governed by the individual but by an unforgiving system. A person, or perhaps a symbol, holding the clock with an iron grip and making the hands fly faster and faster until a second was an impossible measure. Involuntarily, he sighed, causing wisps of steam to escape his lips and rise to the exposed armature of the floor above. With cooling temperatures came the cooling heart, and it was difficult to tell what it was that you loved. What was it that made you feel alive?

“You know, they gave me a choice,” Seonghwa began. There was no reason why he should be telling you about what had happened to him, but the sombre atmosphere seemed to bode well for a confession. You did not interrupt, choosing to remain passive, resigned, “either die for what I believe in, or admit I was wrong.”

“Funny how they gave you a choice,” the infamous ‘they’. The Guardians, the regime, the enemy. Now turned into a friend. Interesting how life changed.

“Definitely was not what I expected.”

“You sure they didn’t say ‘sike’ at any point and you just got lucky?”

“I don’t think they can miss,” a simple, but sharp fact. You bit your lower lip, “...anyways. You can probably guess what I chose to do. The only caveat is that I admitted I was wrong… for a different thing.”

“Do tell.”

“I was wrong for putting you in danger, Y/N.”

“Nothing we could do about that. We were two fools in love.”

Seonghwa detangled himself from you, only to grasp your free hand in his, place the other on your thigh and meet you face to face. Misty-eyed, his rationality was growing frantic, and you knew that at any moment he could snap, and only the clearing night knew what would happen then.

“But I was the one to jolt you out of a peaceful existence. I was selfish-” After years of doubting himself, sinking into a destructive illusion where he would march alongside others like a machine, he was breathing. Much to his regret, it was a sensation far too sweet and heavenly, worth every revolution and rebellion.

“I don’t regret it.”

“...What?”

“I would put this thing to my head time and time again if I had to,” you raised the breaker to eye level, attempting to get at least a smile or a chuckle out of Seonghwa. Much to your dismay, it did the opposite. You would be lying if you were to proclaim you were euphoric. 

“I- I’m… Y/N I’m so sorry…” you shook your head and pulled him in, until his exhales and inhales were tickling your neck. Hunched over you like a black-clad shield, Seonghwa was unmoving. Eyes darting down, you spotted that he had taken the pistol out of the holster, and upon a second glance to where he had been sitting, you noted its lonely presence, tucked away with debris and gravel.

“You are alive. And clearly still care enough to remember me. That’s your apology. And your punishment,” in a soothing gesture, you ran your fingers through his hair, cautiously at first, then turning your ministrations continuous, measured out when Seonghwa sat back down on the concrete, only this time nuzzled into you. 

“Sorry…” he forced out, choking up.

The moon counted down the time while lazily passing over the building. You were at a crossroads. In haste, Seonghwa had told you of the opportunity to serve the Guardian Inspectors, being a private entertainer of sorts, but he knew you would refuse. Fast. Becoming one’s own enemy was the one thing you would not follow Seonghwa into doing. And that is why he admired you. You were strong. You were truly alive. A bird soaring in the skies in spite of the risks of being hunted, being shot. Simply for the feeling of the wind under your wings, to be closer to the stars and to sing your song loud and clear, every note a celestial blessing. 

“Blue bird…”

“Hm?”

“I think I have an idea… if you are willing to go into hiding, that is.”

“Planning uprisings are we?”

“Oh they’ve been long in the works, my love. It is part of my job to close my eyes when necessary, and when convenient.”

“Are you about to be wrong again?”

“Maybe. Or very, very right. Depends on how the song sounds to you.”

---

Walking down the corridors of the headquarters, hands behind his back and appearance pristine, Seonghwa was nothing short of a model Inspector. Low ranking employees cowered before him and bowed, while his immediate colleague Wooyoung smirked, attempting to hook any information out. 

“So… where'd the pretty star go?”

Silently, Seonghwa handed him a slip recording the disposal of an ‘unnamed entity’.

“ Oh… well that’s harsh. What did they do, reject you?”

“Apparently once gone so far astray, one cannot be changed. I had to do what was best for the regime.”

“Such an example for others. Wow. Almost too good to be true, Park. Well, I’ll be reporting that the extermination and cleanup of Morpheus was successful.”

“You do that.”

While Wooyoung turned the corner, Seonghwa continued to walk straight down the metal corridor, eyes locked onto the very end. Morpheus was no longer, indeed. But your song was still ringing in his ears, and no doubt, there would be a time when it would resound over the many speakers planted all across Strictland.

Blue skies smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song

Nothing but bluebirds all day long

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly

Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on

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[esmerulia-chantelle]

Pretty Blue Eyes

Azul Ashengrotto x F!Reader

Summary: You suddenly got transported to Twisted Wonderland and awakened to a set of pretty blue eyes.

Notes: Reader is not Yuu.

A/N: This was inspired from the song "They Don't Know" by Ariana Grande. I changed some part of the lyrics to fit the theme 🤭 Also, I mentioned something about a zing here. If you know, you know 👀 But if you don't it's from the animated movie "Hotel Transylvania" hehe~

A repost from my old blog @escha-evenstar. Edited.

I woke up with all this sunlight~

Ain't got time to listen to any shade~

You sang to yourself as you strolled along the the shoreline of the beach. It was past noon, with the rays of the sun casting a bright light and the sea shimmering with the waves.

Wind in my pony, top-down, alright~

Ain't got time to let them darken my day~

You felt the breeze cool your body against the heat of the sun, and your hair dancing with the wind, as you continued singing your heart away.

So light the fireworks~

Sing like no one's heard~

Dance, it's us against the world~

The weather was great. There weren't any important matters to attend to. It was just you and the serenity of the beach. It was a perfect day. You were enjoying your moment of peace when a group of birds flew by.

You reached your hand up, as if it would make you sprout wings and take flight. Yet, it did not happen, for it was nothing more than wishful thinking. You laughed at your own thoughts as you lowered your hand and continued to stare into the ocean, letting out another sigh.

Soon, the sun began to set. You soaked in the view as the vibrant sky changed to a mix of yellow and red, before turning into darker shade of blue and black. As the heavens glittered with the abundant stars, you realized it was time to go. To head back to your reality.

You started to walk away when you stopped, feeling compelled to look back. As if you'd never see the familiar scene again, and so you did. Everything seemed the same for a night view of the beach, except for that one particular star in the sky that shone the brightest you've ever seen. It was really pretty, like the one from your old storybook. Like a wishing star.

Thinking you've got nothing to lose, you then closed your eyes and held your hands in a prayer, before whispering, "I wish to find true love and happiness."

There's nothing wrong with this, right?

A few seconds passed by when you heard the trudging of hooves, and-

...neighing? Were there horses around?

The sound grew louder and when you opened your eyes, you came face to face with a pair of black horses pulling on a black, intricate carriage.

Suddenly, the darkness consumed you.

You felt your consciousness adrift, your body between a state of asleep and awake.

Where.. am I? I was.. just at the beach. The sun had set, the stars.. that was the brightest star I've ever seen. And then.. I wished for something.. and then.. horses. I remember the black horses.. the carriage..

You were trying to make sense of what was happening when you heard muffled voices. Your mind was still hazy and you could only make out a few words.

"....help... fire..."

Fire..? Why is there fire??

"Off with your head!!"

Wait, someone's... going to have their head cut off?! Just what is happening here?!

Your eyes flew open as the upper half of your body jerked forward.

"Ow!" You groaned in pain and rubbed the spot where you hit your head. "Was that a wall or something? And why is it so dark here? I can't see anything."

You tried palpating around your surroundings. In front of you was some sort of hard, barrier. To both of your sides, you felt another wall but it's soft compared to the one in front, like cushions. It was the same with the backside where your body currently rested. It seemed you were in a confined space and it was pitch black.

Oh my gosh. Was I... kidnapped?!

The fearful thought gave you shivers. There people outside seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. You contemplated on what to do when you heard a familiar voice.

"It isn't mine! I've never seen that creature before in my life!"

Yuu?! If Yuu is here, then that means..

"YUU!!" You screamed with all your might and bashed your hands against whatever trapped you to make some noise, hoping to be heard. "YUU, IT'S ME, Y/N! I'M TRAPPED!! PLEASE HELP ME!!"

"Y/N?! Y/N, where are you?!" Your friend Yuu asked worriedly, searching around for you.

You felt relieved that they heard you. There were other voices in the background, but it didn't matter. What mattered was your friend was there.

"I'm here! Wherever here is!" You continued to shout and make noises, thrashing against the material. "Are you okay there outside? I don't know what's hap-" You tried to use your whole body to push against the barricade when it burst open, flooding the darkness that enclosed you with light, and making you fall.

Was I off the ground?!

The sudden brightness made you shut your eyes close as you screamed at the fear of crashing onto the ground. But it never came. Something was holding you. Or.. was it someone?

You opened your eyes slowly, before widening in surprise. A handsome face greeted you, framed by short, light gray hair and some strands twirling on his left side. A beauty mark rested near his lip, also on the left side. But what really caught you in surprise lied behind a pair of glasses perched on his nose - his eyes.

You gazed at the most mesmerizing shade of blue eyes you have ever seen. Eyes that mirrored his soul, showing and hiding so many emotions. It was like the ocean. Turbulent and serene at the same time. One you wouldn't mind drowning yourself into.

Suddenly, there was a click. A zing.

Thump. Thump.

A feeling came up, and everything felt like it was meant to be. Your heart throbbed so fast. Your face flushed with warmth and tinged pink. Your mind in sync with your heart, singing-

I woke up to pretty blue eyes~

Such a lovely, gorgeous ocean shade~

It felt like you were in a bubble space. Only the two of you existed. Full of warmth. Heart-tingling. So magic-

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Even his voice is so cool and suave.

"Oh- Ah! Uhmm.. yes?" Your nerves were getting the best of you.

"You're.. not sure?" He raised an eyebrow at your response.

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean.. uhmm.. yes! Yes, I'm alright! Positive! I'm sure! I'm fine!" You fumbled with your words.

Oh my gosh. I just keep embarrassing myself.

He let out a chuckle, clearly amused with your answer. "If you say so. Do you think you can stand? Shall I let you down, now?" The young man was still holding you in his arms.

"Oh! Yes, yes of course," you said, still feeling flustered.

He slowly set you down on the ground, checking if you could stand by yourself, before letting go.

"Uhmm.. thank you, by the way," you said softly with a gentle smile.

"Well, I couldn't just let you fall to the ground so I just did what any gentleman would," he said modestly. You opened your mouth, wanting to speak more with him, when a voice interjected.

"Y/N!!"

You turned your head immediately to where the voice came from, and saw your friend rushing to you, stopping at your side.

"Yuu! You're here!" You stepped towards your friend and gave them a quick hug. "You're okay!"

"I should be the one saying that! You falling out from up there gave me quite a scare, you know? I'm glad you're alright, though," they sighed, relieved.

"Well, this is most unusual!" A man wearing a half-mask that appears to be a raven came to view. "First, a magicless person was summoned here. Then, a beast unceremoniously strutted in spewing fire everywhere, and now, though I do not mean to be rude but, a young female? To Night Raven College?"

What's with the stress on female? Also, Night Raven College? So, this was actually a school?

"Might I ask if you remember anything prior to arriving here?" He carried on.

You briefly described what you recalled. One minute you were at the beach. The next, you saw the horses with the black carriage. And then you awoke.. here.

To pretty blue eyes.

"And seeing as you two are well acquainted, I assume you come from the same world as this young man?" He said referring to your friend Yuu.

You nodded at his question.

"So now, we have not one, but two magicless people summoned by the dark mirror! This is quite a predicament. Throughout all the years I facilitated this school as Headmaster, the mirror has never erred. Not once!"

"She is different," a deep voice boomed, coming from the strange mirror at the center of the room. "I sense an aura. But it is... ever changing. She is suitable, and at the same time, not suitable, to any dorm. She is.. unique."

"Are you saying she possesses magic?" The person with the mask inquired, to which the magic mirror agreed to.

What? Magic?

"I'm sorry. I'm confused. What magic are you exactly talking about? Like, in the movies? In TV shows?" You said bewildered.

The Headmaster closed his eyes, face held by his fingers in a thinking pose. "Hmmm.. This will be a long discussion. But fret not!" He opened his eyes and mustered a smile. "Since I am such a kind-hearted and generous Headmaster, the three of us shall figure this out! In the meantime, Housewardens! Please escort your new students to your respective dorms."

You hear a number of responses before people started dispersing out of the room by faction. Your eye caught sight of your mysterious savior leading his group of students.

So he's a Housewarden? I don't know what that is exactly, but he seems to be like a leader of some sort? Well, he does have that charismatic and powerful aura. He must be very impressive to get that position.

...oh my gosh. I just embarrassed myself in front of someone like him. I didn't even give him a proper thank you! I should find him later.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you out of your thoughts. "Y/N? Are you okay? You look pretty dazed."

"Oh! Hehe. I'm fine, sorry for zoning out. I was just.. thinking! A bit overwhelmed, I guess," you reasoned out, chuckling nervously.

The masked person, who you now know as Headmaster Crowley, then led you and your companion somewhere else to discuss about your current situation. As you followed in their steps, your mind keeps reeling back to a certain someone.

Just a peek. Maybe he's still there?

You looked back. And sure enough, he was still there. Gazing back at you.

And the feeling was there again.

Thump. Thump.

"Y/N, come on. You might get lost."

You teared your eyes off of your captivating savior with the blue eyes, the warmth settling on your cheeks again. "Coming!" You said as you jogged after Yuu to catch up to his pace, mind still preoccupied.

Do I.. was that.. love at first sight?! No. It couldn't be, right? A crush, maybe? So.. does that make it a.. crush at first sight?

You definitely had a lot to think about. So much for a perfect day.

Somewhere else, after dormitory orientation..

"Hehehe~ You seem to be lost in your thoughts, Azul. Whatchu thinking about? Or rather, who are you thinking about? Is it the new girl? Are you that interested in her? Do you like her that much~? You do keep looking back at her," Remarked teasingly by a tall, teal-haired person with a black strand on his right side, who was sitting in a chill, laid-back manner.

"What are you talking about? I was thinking about tomorrow's agenda. And.. I was only making sure she was alright. I'm sure she must still be in shock, especially coming in from another world. As Housewarden of Octavinelle, I was just being a benevolent man. That's all," The boy with the blue eyes, named Azul, rebutted. Lips frowned in annoyance as he put down his paperwork to glare at the person.

"Azul is right. As Housewarden of the dorm founded on the spirit of benevolence, I am sure he was just aiding the lovely girl," said another teal-haired person, the black strand located on his left side. "Though, I can't say the same for his.. love at first sight moment." A teasing grin etched on his face.

"Not you too, Jade!" Azul said agitated, shifting his glare to the other person standing by his desk. However, Azul couldn't hide the reddening on the tips of his ears.

"Hahahaha! Look at him Jade!" Floyd laughed, as did his look-alike. The two obviously entertained.

"Enough of this! We should focus on other matters," Azul declared. "It's only the begining of the school year, but we have a lot of work to do." Azul's tone of voice changed, from flustered and annoyed, to one with brimming with power, smirking with confidence. His cerulean eyes, ever so sharp and calculating, darkened a shade with greed. "You know what to do."

The twins gave a menacing grin before responding, "Yes, boss."

You finally get to rest after the whole fiasco of being transported to another world called Twisted Wonderland. Yuu was sleeping in another room together with Grim, the dire beast that blew fire at the ceremony earlier (who was now staying with the two of you), leaving you alone with your thoughts.

So we're in Night Raven College, an all-boy's school for the magically gifted. Apparently, I have magic as said by the Dark Mirror, though I don't feel like I do. Then there are seven unique dorms, each with their own Housewarden.

...and pretty blue eyes is Housewarden here.

Thump. Thump.

You keep replaying the scene in your head.

I woke up to pretty blue eyes~

Such a lovely, gorgeous ocean shade~

The way his blue eyes looked at you, and only you.

Strong arms that held me so I'm alright~

Holding me close, so I don't go away~

The feeling of his arms holding you firmly so you don't fall down.

So light, the fireworks~

Sing, 'cause I met you~

Dance, 'cause I'm here in your world~

You covered your face with pillow, squealing.

Aahhhh!! Stop it!! I'm supposed to be sleeping right now!!

"But I didn't even get his name," you sighed before an idea came to you. "Ah! Then I'm going to look for him tomorrow! Assuming we're still stuck here, that is."

But with pretty blue eyes around, maybe you didn't mind being stuck there.

I guess I wouldn't mind staying here with you for a while.

In another room in a different dorm..

Azul lied on his bed with his eyes closed yet his mind was awake. He couldn't sleep. He tried to think of anything else. School. The lounge. His schemes plans. Anything else, but you.

Because he couldn't get you out of his head.

When Azul saw your body falling, he could have used magic to stop you. Just a mere simple spell. Instead, his body moved faster than his brain and caught you with his own arms. When you opened your eyes and your gaze met his, something inside of him clicked. Like a zing.

Thump. Thump.

Azul felt like he did the right choice. He did the right thing. And it felt so right to hold you close in his arms. Staring at your beautiful pair of eyes.

The most gorgeous, definitely.

Your eyes held so many wonders. So many beautiful things. He wanted to know everything there is about you. Then he recalled your melodic voice muttering the words—

"...pretty blue eyes~"

He was lucky he was wearing his hood. Otherwise, the entire school might have seen the blush adorning his cheeks and ears. Azul sighs in frustration. Just remembering it was enough to get him flustered.

Thump. Thump.

Azul scolded himself.

Focus! I need to sleep!

It was a troublesome opening ceremony. Very different from how he envisioned his first ceremony as Housewarden. The Dark Mirror summoning a magicless human from another world. The gray cat with blue flames that came out of nowhere. And then, there was you.

You, who he has yet to unravel.

The one they called Y/N.

"Y/N, huh?"

Your name easily came out of Azul's lips. So smooth and sweet, like honey.

...such a pretty name.

Azul pauses, pondering for a moment, before the corner of his lips moved upward diagonally, a smile visible on his face.

I suppose I wouldn't mind having you around.

Masterlist here!

If you enjoyed this: likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[aerynwrites]

Peaceful Moments

Halsin x gn!Reader

A/N: based on a request sent in by the lovely @chaoticlicense thank you for this request friend! I had such a blast writing it!

Word Count: 921

Warnings: none

The small glade near the river is peaceful today. Not that it’s ever not peaceful, but today feels more…Serene than usual. 

You and Halsin had managed to get away from the sanctuary unnoticed in order to take the short walk to the river to bathe and just take a moment for yourselves. 

Despite the solution of the brain and the absolute and you and Halsin creating a sanctuary for those in need, it seems rare you actually get time alone with your partner. So, you plan to cherish this time, even if it’s nothing over the top or exciting.

You relish in it. 

Both of you had gotten clean in the river, toweling off and redressing before choosing a sunny spot against a felled tree to rest against. The light is dappled as it shines through the forest canopy, and the warmth that kisses your skin makes you feel satiated, like a cat basking in the sun. 

Your back rests against the trunk of the fallen tree, a thin coating of moss protecting you from the rough bark. Halsin sits between your legs, upper half bare as he lets the sun dry the last of the water from his tanned skin. 

Your fingers work slowly at the strands of his damp honey colored hair, detangling before moving to twist them into small braids. The only sound that permeates the still air is that of the gurgling river, your soft humming, and the gentle scraping of a blade on wood. 

You watch as muscles ripple beneath the skin of Halsin’s back as he works on a whittling project, only stopping every now and again to toss shavings off to the side. 

The quiet is only broken when Halsin decides to speak up, but still not stopping his task. 

“What tune do you sing, my heart?” He asks. “I do not believe I’ve heard it before.”

You pause your humming, brought from your rivière as your fingers stall in the midst of another braid. You’d never really thought about the song you were humming, the tune just coming naturally to you. Your fingers continue their work as you reply. 

“It was a song my mother used to hum when she…Well, when she did my hair,” you reveal, fond memories surfacing in your mind. 

“She loved to sing. Although I never quite picked up her talent in that regard I…I suppose it’s a way for me to keep her with me.”

Halsin lets out a soft hum of his own, pausing his whittling just as you finish up your current braid, tying the end off before adding a small golden cuff at the end. You move to grab another section of hair, but Halsin is turning to face you before you can.

“Hey! I wasn’t done-“ 

Your words are cut off as Halsin picks you up effortlessly in order to place you in his lap, your legs straddling his hips as his eyes meet your own. 

“You sing beautifully,” Halsin says softly, his whittling set aside in favor of taking your face in his hands. “More beautifully than even the loudest song birds.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, cheeks warm as your avoid his gaze. “Halsin…” you say quietly.

But the druid doesn’t relent, instead he turns your face towards his once more, his lips a hair's breadth from your own. 

“I speak the truth,” he says firmly. “I love you, all of you and the gifts nature bestowed upon you.”

For a moment, you’re lost for words - something that happens more often than not with Halsin’s pretty poetic way with words. Thankfully, his lips meet yours before you have to speak, and you hope he can sense your love for him.

His lips are soft, gentle as they move against you, and you relish in the proximity of your two bodies. His chest is warm and solid beneath your palms as your hands slide up the vast expanse of him, the hair there scratching delightfully against your fingertips. 

Before you realize it, Halsin has moved you both, your back against the soft grass as he hovers over you, his lips never leaving yours. Only when his hair falls over his shoulders does he pull away, the gentle tinkling of the metal hair adornments drawing his attention. 

He pauses for a moment, bringing one hand up to pull a braid into his line of sight, brows furrowing as he takes in the delicate golden cuff around the end of this particular braid. 

His eyes flick to you, and you bite your lip shyly. 

“I…I saw them when we were back in the city. I thought they were pretty and then thought about you wearing them and well…” you trail off for a moment. “Do you not like them?”

For a moment, you fear a small rebuke. Halsin barely likes clothing, would he really appreciate such trivial baubles?

But any and all worries fall away as Halsin smiles down at you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Anything that pleases you is a pleasure to me, my heart,” he laughs. “Perhaps now I won’t sneak up on you so often.”

A giggle of your own slips past your lips at his words. 

“Oh no, you’ve figured out my whole plan!” You tease.

Haslin only smiles before descending on you once more with a kiss. 

You may not get many moments like these, but you will always cherish the ones you do.

[pinejayy]

Doll (Wally Darling x Reader)

part 1??? i’m not sure if y’all want a part 2 uwu

warnings: nothing really besides wally being kinda creepy.

It was a nice and lovely day at the Neighborhood, the birds were singing and the sun rays where hitting your skin and it felt nice. You enjoyed this place and the people, everyone was so friendly towards you. Well there was one person who stood out. Yep you guessed it right Wally....Wally Darling. You didn’t know why but something about the yellow puppet was off putting, and everyone in the neighborhood seemed to act differently around him, as they were scared of him. But you really didn’t think too much about it. As you walked around, you were going to have a small picnic by the butterfly field alone.

 As you walked around, you smiled and waved at you friends. And you walked by everyone, and you also walked by Wally’s house trying to ignore the fact that his house had eyes. That was also really odd. But I guess it’s not hurting anyone right? As you walked past his house you didn’t notice a pair of eyes following your every move. Wally was staring at you through a window, he made sure he stayed hidden, his eyes following your movements. 

After awhile you got to your to the field. It’s so pretty! As you set up everything and once that was done you sat down and looked at butterflies. “Wow you sure are pretty.” You said to yourself. Looking at them fly around you, hm no wonder why Frank likes watching them.

From a distance Wally was watching you. He knew this was wrong but something about you made him go crazy. The way you laugh and the way you smile. You were so beautiful, he thought that you looked so soft. He wanted to break you. Make you his, he needed you. He wanted you.

As you enjoyed yourself, you took a deep breath. Not knowing you had a pair eyes on you.

“Hello neighbor! What are you doing here alone?”

You jumped as you thought you were alone. You looked at the voice, and saw Wally. “Oh my god Wally! You scared me!” You say and look at him, wondering why was he here you didn’t tell him or anyone that you were going to be here.

“I’m deeply sorry Neighbor, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, and sat by your side. “I was just walking around and I guess I saw you and wanted to join you.” His voice was so smooth. But he stared at you, his pupils widen a bit. He needed you. 

You smile at him and nodded. How odd? How did he know you were here at this very moment. You Shook it off and smile at him. You dig through your basket you had and pulled out an apple. They were his favorite. Wally’s eyes grew with happiness he loved apples. He took the apple and thanked you. “Thank you Y/N your very sweet!” He told you, words seemed so soft and relaxing. 

“Of course Wally!” You say, and smile at him. As you just relax. “So Wally how was your day? Did you have a good morning?” 

Wally looked at you and nodded, as he looked at the apple. It looked so good but he couldn’t eat it front of you. Well unless he wanted to scare you off and he doesn’t want that. “My morning was pretty good, and my day is even better now that I got a lovely gift from my best friend!” He said with happiness. “This apple is prefect...just like you.” 

You blushed at his comment and giggled slightly. “Oh you’re so sweet Mr. Darling! Is that why your last name is Darling?” You say and smile even more. Looking at him and into his eyes. “Because you’re such a Darling!” Wait were you two flirting? No right...you guys are just being friendly. You just saw him as a friend. A best friend. (Damn he’s in the friend zone)

Wally’s eyes glimmered. Your comment made him feel warm, his eyes filled with happiness. As he looked at you, he couldn’t help but sit closer to you. “Why yes Y/N, that’s why they call me Darling.” He purred at you. 

As a few hours passed by and both Wally and you were having a nice day, you guys talked alot. And as you talked to him he seemed like a really nice guy, Maybe wasn’t so off putting as you thought. Soon you were getting ready to leave, but Wally seemed upset that the day was ending with you. He didn’t want to leave your side, but he did help you pack your things. “Aw I was having having a great time with you.” He whimpered to you. “Maybe we can hang out again? I can make us dinner and I can invite you to my place?” 

You looked at him, and thought about it. He did seem really nice in his own way, but you still had an uneasy feeling about his house. But since you didn’t want to be rude you gladly accepted his offer. “That would be nice, I would love that Wally.” 

“GREAT!” Wally said, getting excited. “If you want to you can come over at my place tomorrow at 3pm? How does that sound?” He looked at you, wanting to hold you and take you away. But he had to control himself, he can’t scare you away. 

“That sounds great Wally. Then that settles it, I’ll see you tomorrow at 3 o’clock! Make sure to make me something yummy and don’t forget the apples Mr. Darling!” You giggle, and winked at him. It made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow. 

“But I’ll see you tomorrow Wally. You have a lovely day. And make sure you rest for tomorrow.” You say as you place a small kiss on his check. Saying your goodbyes to the yellow puppet and after that you left him alone. He was left alone with his thoughts. 

Wally was standing alone in the field. He couldn’t help but giggle to himself. A date with you! Finally you’re going to be his and his only...forever. He is going to make his.. and he’s going to love you. Now he was laughing at himself. “You’re going to be my DOLL!” He said to himself smiling. “Forever..”

// So what did you guys think? A part 2 or nah??

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Siren Song☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 1 2 7 1  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 17.09.2023      🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: you hear a voice singing while out exploring the woods. you go to investigate and find someone unexpected.

You huffed as you jumped down from a concrete block covered with vines, your hands meeting the dirt. It looked like it was about to rain, and the sun was on its way to set, its rays muffled by thick storm clouds. 

  You straightened out of your crouch nimbly. You fixed your comfortable adventure clothes. 

  You inhaled and relished as your lungs filled with oxygen-rich forest air. Birds chirped, crickets rehearsed their symphonies, a small orchestra hid by foliage, and the breeze caressed your skin gently. 

  It was a beautiful evening, and you walked through the clearing calmly. 

  A sound caught your attention. No, it wasn't a bird. It wasn't a bug. Neither was it a party or an animal. The sound was more like a voice. You quirked your brow as you squinted. 

  You tried to follow the sound, wandering through the forest. 

  Your hands met with the bark of ancient trees as you sighed. No dice. But you were curious, you wanted to know who it was that was singing so pleasantly. For a few moments, you continued to wander, and after what seemed like too long, the voice came closer. It felt like you just needed one more turn and you'd meet the singer.

  If that was a forest siren singing, they had you in their grasp, and you'd be siren food. 

  The breeze rustled your hair as you stopped at a small clearing with warm, dim fairy lights hanging on trees. Your breath hitched and your eyes sparkled with wonder. It didn't seem like the lair of a vicious beast. More like the lair of a hipster or something. 

  You walked out from the trees. 

  "Hello?" You asked an empty clearing. 

  "Hey," A smooth baritone said as a person with a guitar appeared, floating mid-air ahead of you. You stepped back. 

  "Woah!" You gasped as you took in his form. He had midnight black hair, strange, unnatural eyes, desaturated light teal skin, and... long, sharp fangs sticking out from his smirking lips. A vampire. With a sick guitar that looked like an axe. It was a bright crimson. He strummed it leisurely. 

  "What do you want?" He asked with an exasperated sigh, tilting his head, his eyes half-lidded. He addressed you as though you were an annoying door-to-door salesman. You crossed your arms awkwardly and studied his guitar, and his long, clawed fingers. The sleeves of his wine flannel were hitched up over long inhuman forearms. 

  "I heard you singing and decided to check it out. Thought you were a siren," You laughed lightly as you shrugged. He raised a brow. 

  "Your voice is nice," You complimented quietly. His gaze softened and he floated lower. His black bangs fell over his face. 

  "Thanks," He said humbly, a slight pink tinge to his face. "Have I seen you before?" He pointed at you, his other hand holding the neck of his instrument. 

  You hummed. 

  "Could be. I've seen you around, though. Marshall, right?" You pursed your lips. The breeze blew gently, carrying the scent of the vampire's vague cologne. 

  "Yeah, Marshall Lee," He floated so that it looked like he was laying down, his pointed ears poking out, and he played a few chords. "I think I've seen you at Fionna's parties." 

  You nodded, kicking the glass under your feet. 

  "Yeah, I just go to stand around all awkward. But it's fun seeing people have fun, I guess?" You raised your hands. 

  "You're human, right?" He studied your ears. His tone had a mocking aftertaste. More clouds rolled in as the sun set nearly fully, shrouding the cool forest in shadow, but the fairy lights lit the clearing up pretty nicely. 

  "Yeah, and I take it you're a vampire." You sat down on a piece of an abandoned fridge, hands on your knees. 

  "Vampire King," He smirked as he floated near your face and then swerved back and up, crossing his legs leisurely. You leaned forward, your face heating up a bit. The guy was mad charming. A mad charming “bad boy”, which spelled trouble for you and your friends whose ears you'd talk off about him later. If what you had heard about him was true, he was one. The most egregious "incident" was the time he dyed everything Gumball owned green. Even Gumball himself. Famously, Gumball hates green.

  Marshall was then banned from the Candy Kingdom. He was banned from many places. Even Cracker Barrel. You'd also heard he was a classic rockstar, and you know what that means. Drink, smoke, snort ring a bell? 

  "Fancy title for such a punk." You raised your brow with a challenge. 

  "I'm a multifaceted individual. Maybe you'd know that if you were one too." His expression feigned solemnity. The upturned corners of his black lips and tone gave away his teasing. His ears lowered. 

  "Psh, you've just met me, essentially, and you're in the globdamn woods, who cares what you've got to say?" You smiled, putting your hands on your hips. 

  His nose crinkled, and black-sclera eyes with vertical pupils bored into you. He held a serious silence. Now this act was believably pissed. So believable you were getting worried, and your expression turned to badly concealed fear. 

  He burst out in a mischievous giggle,  throwing his head back. 

  "Good one." He smiled with a slight darkness. Man, was he one confusing sexuality-defying vamp. 

  Droplets of rain dropped on the trees above you. His ears tilted up to the sound, and for a split second, he looked like a confused cat. 

  "It's gonna rain soon. And by soon I mean two minutes ago." You frowned as cool air hit your skin, freezing you to your core. 

  Marshall huffed through pointy teeth.  His pierced ears drooped in annoyance. 

 "I'd love to see you soaked and all, but I can't get my guitar wet. Wanna go somewhere else, cream puff?" 

  "That's the first good idea you've had as of recently," You muttered. You blinked. "W- cream puff? Soaked?" You stuttered, your voice losing every shred of confidence. 

  "That is what I said. Well done!" He gave you a thumbs up. Your mouth opened a little, your expression as if you were about to sneeze. 

  "You gonna keep calling me that?" 

  The grass rustled, taps echoing off the foliage. 

  "What do you think?" 

  You sighed. 

  A drop of rain hit your arm. 

  "I think we should hurry."

  Marshall adjusted his guitar, floating to you and poking your back. You flinched. Son of a witch...

  "I like what you're saying. Rare occurrence, isn't it?" He bit his lip and gave you a side eye as you walked- floated- through the forest, leaves shielding you from rain. 

  "I wish I could punch you." You shook your head. 

  "Why don't you?" He coaxed, dodging raindrops. 

  "Your face is the only good thing about you." You shrugged. 

  "Aww, what about my sick guitar skills?" He played a chunk of a solo full of hammer-ons and gob knows what. You sure as hell weren't looking at his guitar at that moment. 

  "Hm. They're good, I'm just kidding."

  You stepped over a turtle. The rain was beating down substantially. It hit the leaves loudly. Taps could be heard all over. It felt peaceful. 

  "I don't know if I'm kidding. But I'm not kidding when I say you're the hottest person I've ever met in a forest," He purred, raising his brows suggestively. Awful. Criminal. Jail.

  And after that, you felt a little less peaceful. You crossed your arms as you shot him a sharp look. 

  "Are you always like this?"

  He smiled, flashing his sharp teeth. 

  "You bet."

[poewriteslemon]

there needs to be more kunikida smut in the world… maybe something between him and an ada!reader?

True!! I don't see enough Kunikida smut even though he's so hot 💔

Kunikida x ada!reader

Contents: headcanons, scenario that was meant to be short but I got carried away-, established relationship, fluff & smut, Dazai being Dazai, reader is g/n, blowjob, hair pulling, reader swallowing cum, Kunikida curses (let him say fuck!)

A/N: sorry this is all over the place! I was considering making Dazai interrupt the blowjob scene but that'll be for another fanfic ♡

NSFW warning!

You fell in love with him almost as soon as you started working in the ADA, this part was pretty obvious to everyone especially to Ranpo and Dazai who would sometimes tease you about it. What they didn't realize is that Kunikida had also started to like you back, and eventually the two of you started dating

Kunikida made it loud and clear that he does not want the others to find out so soon, and he especially doesn't want you to be touching him so much during work. He's in the office for a reason and he doesn't want you to think he's going to put it to the side just because you're dating

...But of course sometimes you get a little desperate and waiting hours for him to finish working just so he can fuck you seemed like absolutely torture to you

The solution? Give him head. He's become accustomed to having you between his legs and have his big cock inside your mouth during work hours, he was definetly not proud of this so he would only indulge when he's extremely stress and needs it. Other than that? You have to either masturbate in the bathrooms alone or wait until you both go home, not the best feeling but you can't really expect much out of such a workaholic like Kunikida

Always fucks you how you want, though he's not really into BSDM since sex is all about the intimate love, not lust. He'll still do it from time to time and use his notebook to create any toy and bondages for you

He's a very simple person, loves missionary the most since he gets to be close to your body and hear your beautiful moaning right next to his ear. When he's feeling more lustful though expect a lot of pushing you against a table and fucking you from behind

Kunikida is... a very punctual person, he'll write down the day hour and minute you two should have sex, he would even write the positions and everything- of course, this removes the fun of doing it in the moment so you've been trying to get him to lossen up a little and stop planning so much

This came with...various results. In one hand he would listen to you and try to just let his urges win instead of having to constantly put them under control, which meant you would get more time with him!

But on the other hand...he's not too great when he doesn't have a plan. He'll be more worried about messing up or hurting you so please reassure him that it's okay ♡

The sun was beginning to set, some of the detectives have already left to go home but Dazai, as usual, was bothering Kunikida to no end to the point that even you were starting to get annoyed by it. "Look Kunikida!" The brunette called out, showing a little origami bird he made with the paperwork he should be filling out, Kunikida glared at him for a second then back to his computer. "If you're going to be wasting time then go home already." Dazai dramatically pretends to be offended. "Aw cmon Kunikida-kun don't be like that!"

...no response.

You look to your partner and you could just feel his stress and irritation growing by the minute, he was typing more aggressively and was seconds away from strangling Dazai, but he tried to remain cool by ignoring him..

It did not work.

"Ku-ni-ki-da-kun~" Dazai sings as he shows a paper cutout that had the blonde's face drawn in it, and with that: Dazai was fucked. Kunikida slam shuts the computer and walks next to Dazai, the brunette now regretting just a little bothering him so much, Kunikida grabs him by the back of the collar and drags him out of the office, shutting the door to keep him away. "Kunikidaa!" He cries out but gets the silent treatment again. Dazai wanted to keep bothering him but better leave that for tomorrow, at least he has the perfect opportunity to leave work a bit early.

You awkwardly sit next to his chair, not knowing if speaking to him would be the greatest idea, but as his partner you should probably do something, right? He loudly sighs as he continues to work, clearly too annoyed to think straight. "Kunikida?" You quietly ask, he again sighs and turns his head to you, his expression softens but not enough to hide hoe tired he was. "Yes? Do you need something?" You shake your head no, placing your hand in his leg. "You should take a break and leave this for tomorrow, love" He quickly dismisses the idea and continues to work. "Absolutely not, besides I'm used to Dazai acting like that, I'll be fine." He said, you frown trying to think how to make him stop, and an idea strikes you almost immedietly.

You 'accidentally' dropped a pen that landed below Kunikida's desk, you tap his shoulder to grab his attention "Sorry but could you move your chair a little? I dropped my pen." He obliges but his hands are still on his computer, not realizing you've moved entirely under the desk.

You slowly moved your fingers over his thighs, making him gasp and look under the desk. "(Y/N)! Get out of there, now isn't the time for this!" He shouted, but you only smirked in response as you began to touch the zipper of his pants. "No one's around so whats the harm?" You plead with innocent eyes that contrasted your hands already removing his dick off his boxer. After more complaining from his part, he finally gives in and agrees, still working but stealing glances at your adorable face as you happily hum and start stroking his dick with both of your hands, he wasn't giving any reaction but he couldn't thank you enough for the help. He was soft considering this all happened so suddenly but you were confident that would change soon "I'll help you feel better, okay~?" With his other hand he gently puts it over your head, patting you as you did your business. You started to lick his cock as your hands picked up the pace, "Does it feel good?" You asked and he places his hand to your cheek reassuringly "You're doing great" You take that as a sign to go further, so you slowly started to suck on the tip, making him grunt, he could feel his focus slowly leave his mind.

You smirk and continue going deeper until you cant take anymore, you start bobbing your head up and down, your hands still stroking his now hardened and bigger cock. His shoulders finally manages to relax and he goes back to grab your hair, moaning quietly at every touch you give him. "Fuck..." He pulls your hair to make you go faster, you gag a little but keep his dick inside your drooling mouth with no complaints. You looked up to him with your eyes tearing up a little, he was ashamed to admit how hot you looked like this, but his cock twitching was enough evidence to tell you this. You pull out for a moment to breath again, your mouth wide open- this was for Kunikida but now you could feel yourself getting wet. "Kuni.." you moaned out but he pushes you back inside him, never letting go of your hair or slowing down his pace. His moaning is now louder as his breathing becomes uneven, "ah...fuck you feel so good.." He removes the buttons on his shirt and starts thrusting into your mouth, you put your hand on his cock so he wouldn't shove it all in and make you gag. Your moans are muffled by the lewd noises and Kunikida's own moans, the room was anything but silent at this point.

He thrusts into you harsher, his hand still making your head go faster, his moaning becomes desperate as he could feel a warm feeling take over his body "Shit- I'm going to cum..!" He let's go of your hair so he could cum on your face instead but you start bobbing your head even faster than before, your hands trailing below his shirt and into his warm body, he feels a shook down his entire body as he whimpers before moaning loudly and releasing his load inside your mouth. You moan as the thick liquids fill your entire mouth, it felt so good ♡

He takes a moment to calm down before cupping your face "Sorry I didn't mean to do it inside, you can spit it out" He gently says, but you open your mouth to reveal you had swallowed every drop of it "Too late for that Kuni~" He sighs and moves his chair back for you to stand up and clean up. "I think we should go home now." You nod in agreement, hopefully he'll touch you when you arrive as a thank you gift

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Happy Anniversary Baby

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader, Sarah Miller

Pairing - Joel x You

Summary - You and Joel have been together for a year! You surprise him and Sarah with breakfast and plan what to do for the day!

Word Count - 2.3K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Fluff, I mean alllll the fluffy good feelings, Joel being a sweetheart!

A/N - No Outbreak! This is my first try at writing something happy and fluffy!

Feedback is always appreciated!!

I am really happy with this one and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

Divider credit to @saradika

The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft golden glow across the room. As the first rays of light filter through the window, the warmth of the sun’s rays dance across the walls and illuminate the bedroom with soft, pretty patterns as they move through the branches of the trees outside. The room is filled with the sound of birds singing, their cheerful melodies wafting through the slightly open window.

You begin to stir, becoming aware of the warm weight of Joel’s arm draped across your waist. You could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his t-shirt you stole to sleep in one of the first nights you stayed with him. His fingers curled loosely around your hip. He is still snoring lightly, and the sound of a comforting rumble fills your ears.

As you turned to face him, you could see the lines on his face softened by sleep. The sunlight casts a warm glow across his face, making him look almost angelic in the morning light. You watch him for a moment, feeling a sense of contentment wash through you.

You love waking up next to Joel, feeling the safety and security of his presence; his arm around your waist is like a shield, protecting you from the world outside. Even in his sleep, he is a reassuring presence, a reminder that you are not alone and that you never will be again.

You shift slightly, Joel tightens his grip on your waist unconsciously, and he murmurs something in his sleep that you can’t quite make out. The sound was so soft and intimate that it made your heart stutter. Feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks, you can’t help but stare at him, willing your mind to capture this memory forever.

You close your eyes and breathe in the scent of his skin; he smells faintly of body wash, and it’s intoxicating. You press a sweet kiss to his forehead and glance at the clock on the nightstand. The time was 7:54 a.m. You're careful not to wake him. Slipping out of bed as gently as you can manage with his arm still wrapped around you like a vine

The warm summer air in the room greets you as you leave the comfort of his bed. Throwing your robe around your body and tying it in a loose bow, you tip-toe across the room and wiggle your feet into your slippers. As you pad down the hallway to the stairs, you find yourself grinning, excited to get started on the surprise breakfast.

Over the last year, you found yourself staying with Joel and Sarah more often than not; you formed something akin to a routine. Weekday mornings were rushed with cups of coffee for you and Joel and a bowl of cereal and OJ for Sarah, and on the weekends, the three of you usually slept through breakfast, just about making it in time for brunch.

Today is different; today is special. You have been with Joel for an entire year, and as cliché as it sounds, it has been the happiest and most fulfilling year of your life so far. You wanted to make a real effort to show both Joel and Sarah how much you love and appreciate them, and a home-cooked breakfast was the perfect way to start.

You pop on a pot of fresh coffee and start to set the table, getting that out of the way first, worrying that the smell of bacon cooking will draw the father and daughter downstairs too soon. Placing a pitcher of fresh orange juice in the middle of the table, you set about getting the ingredients you need out of their various homes in the kitchen.

You decided yesterday that you would go all out for this breakfast. You start by preparing the pancake batter, knowing that Joel isn’t a big fan of them but that they are Sarah’s favourite.

You chopped up some fresh strawberries and blueberries for the top of them, squeezing just a sprinkle of lemon juice over the fruit so they wouldn’t lose their vibrant colour. You set the bowls of pancake mix and fruit to the side to get started on the main event.

You had made the mix for the biscuits the night before, when Joel had headed for his shower after coming home from work particularly dusty, giving you time to pop the dough in the fridge before he returned. You open the fridge and gather the rest of the ingredients you need: eggs, bacon, and sausage. You set the biscuit dough on the windowsill so the morning sun could warm them before you popped them into the oven.

Making quick work of the bacon and sausage, you set it on the lowest shelf of the oven, which was perfectly raising the biscuits, to keep warm. You pour Sarah’s pancakes into one pan and crack the eggs into another, the picture of a professional multi-tasker.

When the pancakes and eggs were almost finished, you kneeled to check on the rest of the breakfast, and, happy with the progress the biscuits were making, you turned the oven off. Your knees were cracking and creaking as you stood straight.

"When did I get old?" You asked yourself under your breath.

"I would say a few years back at least," a sweet voice mumbles through a yawn behind you.

You turn, place one hand on your hip, and cock an eyebrow to the ceiling. Sarah is standing at the breakfast bar, one elbow leaning on the counter, the other rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning to you too, young lady," you emphasise with an over-dramatic curtsey; the gesture makes Sarah throw her head back and a loud giggle burst from her lips.

You turn back to the stove as Sarah looks around in surprise, the bout of laughter waking her fully.

"You made pancakes?" She exclaims, her voice rising in pitch with excitement.

"I certainly did! I thought I could treat you and your dad to a homecooked breakfast for a change." You laugh at the gleam in the girls' eyes.

"What're all the giggles about, ladies?" Joel asks, his voice thick and gruff with sleep. You would only be lying to yourself if you said his voice in the mornings didn’t do things for you.

"Oh, you know, just Sarah, laughing at the fact that I'm an old woman." You laugh and smile fondly at her.

"Damn, if you're old, what does that make me?" Joel asks, scratching his head and causing the hairs to stick in every direction. You need to force your eyes off him as Sarah replies with a matter-of-fact

"That would make you a fossil, Dad," she deadpanned, and you couldn’t stop the snort before it was out of your mouth. Turning back to the stove for a second time to hide your laughter.

"Oh, is that right, kiddo? I'm still young enough to run laps around you!" He laughs along with the pair of you, mussing his daughter's wild hair affectionately before coming to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

"Happy anniversary, baby," he says softly into your ear; it’s almost a coo. It makes your heart flutter and your knees weak.

"Happy anniversary, Joel," you say lovingly, turning in his embrace to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his perfect lips.

"Ewww, Y/N, are you guys going to be like this all day?" Sarah asks, making gag noises behind you and Joel.

"That’s right, sooorrrry. I forgot old people aren’t allowed to be in loooove." You respond with a sing song, laughing and sticking your tongue out at her.

"No oldies, you can be in love all you like; honestly, I even encourage it, but can you do it somewhere else?" Sarah laughs with you, and you promise to keep the PDA to a minimum.

Joel releases you from his hold and takes in the sight of his kitchen for the first time this morning. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filled the air, making his mouth water.

"Y/N, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble, baby," he says as he brushes his thumb across your cheekbone.

"It’s no trouble at all; I wanted to treat you both!" You lean lazily into his touch, your grin feeling like it would split your face straight down the middle.

"Well, it smells amazing; thank you, Darlin." He smiles back, the dimple that you love so much standing out on his right cheek. You lean onto your tiptoes and place a quick kiss on it, then usher them both to take their places at the table.

As you sit at the breakfast table with Joel and Sarah, you allow your mind to drift back over the last year of your life. You think about the day you met Joel and how nervous you had been as you waited for him to arrive at the coffee shop.

You remembered how he had walked in, his eyes locking onto yours with a warm smile, and how the nerves had melted away in an instant. You’d spent hours talking and laughing, and you felt a sense of ease and comfort you had never experienced before. You didn’t have to be anyone else but yourself, and you didn’t have to hide around him.

As you thought about the months that followed, you were overwhelmed by the feelings of awe and gratitude that washed over you. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found him and his beautiful daughter. They had become your family and your home.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you think about how you never thought you would know happiness again. Everyone in the past had always made you pretend or had moulded you into someone they wanted you to be, but Joel and Sarah had changed everything. They have and will continue to show you that it is possible to find love and joy again, even in the darkest times.

After you had all eaten what felt like your body weight in pancakes, bacon, eggs, and biscuits, the three of you sat around the table, sipping coffee and orange juice, and discussing the plan for the day. Sarah gave an enormous stretch and sat forward in her chair. Elbows propped on the table, she looks at Joel, then at you, and back again, a sly smile spreading across her face.

"I think I want to spend the day with you guys," she said. "But I'm going to stay at Uncle Tommy’s tonight."

Joel and you exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but blush at the look he is giving you. Sarah is clearly trying to be tactful by giving you and Joel some privacy on your first anniversary, which, while you were grateful for it, you never wanted her to feel like she had to leave her own home.

"Hey birdie, you don’t have to; we can have a movie night if you like." You smile at her, brushing a stray hair out of her face. Joel's head whipped from his daughter's face to yours so quickly that he looked like a cartoon. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you.

"The hell she doesn’t; you’ll have a great time with Uncle Tommy, won’t you, baby girl?" The look in his eyes was one of pleading with his daughter—the biggest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen him manage. You had to cover your mouth to stifle another laugh.

"Really smooth there, Romeo," she laughs at her father, "but I could honestly think of nothing worse than the chance of overhearing you pensioners tonight, plus I already made plans to have a movie night with Uncle Tommy," she said, leaving no room for argument.

"Well, ignoring the old jab, I think that is very thoughtful of you, little bird," you say sincerely, and the smile that breaks across Sarah’s face is blinding. Obviously, she is very pleased with herself. Joel stands to start clearing the table.

"Thanks, baby girl," he murmurs softly and places a kiss on the crown of her head.

"So, what do my girls want to do today?" He asked over his shoulder as he scrubbed the few remaining dishes in the sink.

"It’s meant to be a beautiful day; we could go to the beach. Or maybe a hike?" You suggest, raising an eyebrow in question to Sarah, who is very deep in thought, weighing each option carefully.

"Let’s hit the trailhead, and if it gets too hot, we can swim in the river. The beach is probably going to be busy today if the weather is nice." She stated, ever so practical this little girl.  

"Sounds like a plan," Joel said as he finished drying the last of the dishes. "Wanna go and pack up your stuff? We roll out in 20 minutes! 20 minutes you hear? I want to get there and get set up before the crowds roll in!" Joel’s Dad mode was well and truly activated at the thought of planning an impromptu hike in 95-degree heat.

"You know we are going for the day, right? Like not a fortnight trip, Joel?" You question him, giggling at his serious expression, the crease between his brows as prominent as ever. You lean forward and place a kiss there, the crease immediately relaxing under your lips.

"20 minutes! The same goes for you, miss!" He says sternly as he winks at you and swats your behind as you dance away from him still laughing. Sending a wink over your shoulder at him on your way out the door.

Oh, how he loves to watch your hips sway... 

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲

Oneshot: For a minute, everything will be fine Genre: Fluff, nothing particular A/N: Just had a mental convo with Dazai on this →Masterlist

As the sun begins to set over the horizon, casting a warm and golden glow over the land, the world seems to come alive with a majestic energy. The rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant sound of birds singing their evening songs, and the way the clouds dance across the sky - it's all a symphony of beauty that cannot be ignored.

"Death sounds pretty good right now" Dazai spoke, his head on your lap as you both sat near the edge of the cliff, the Yokohama city the sun's rays slowly reducing it's luminance.

Your hand ran through his dusty darkish brown hair, as you took a deep breath, each passing moment making you feel like it was your last.

Was Dazai right all along? Is their truly a worth living when everything around you is chaotic? that a simple mere human mind was able to think beyond the way of living confused you, but in this world, where possibilities are endless, one cannot hold back and stop.

"You alright?" You spoke, your voice as quiet as possible, as your finger played with Dazai's hair, (S/T) skin on brown, as little rays of light dance across the area, golden on yellow, and yellow on green.

A soft sound of reassurance was heard from Dazai's mouth, as turned and tilted himself, his face now buried inside of your lap, his breath tickling your thighs as you laugh and shove him off you, before you stood— dusting off the tiny hay like grass.

You couldn't decipher Dazai's face, yet he got up when you did, only to lose his balance again and end up back on the ground.

You extended your hand, as you watch Dazai fell face flat on the ground, before he reached out his hand, you pulling him up as he stood.

"Well aren't you quiet feisty today belladonna?"

"I saw that," You spoke as you crossed your hands over our chest, a playful smirk on your face.

With a smirk, Dazai dusted off his clothes and chuckled, "Ah, you know, a little tumble just adds some excitement to the day."

You raised an eyebrow playfully, "Excitement or not, you do have a talent for making dramatic entries."

He flashed a mischievous grin, "Life's too short for anything less, my dear belladonna"

You both started to walk back to the city, thanking the wind for letting you have peaceful time near the cliff.

As you continued walking, You couldn't help but ask, "So, what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Dazai placed a hand over his heart in mock offense, misinterpreting your question, "Me? Trouble? I'll have you know, I was merely exploring the boundaries of gravity."

You rolled your eyes, obvious to his ignorance, but still replied "Exploring the boundaries of gravity? Is that what you call tripping over your own feet? Considering that, I will thanking Chuuya for making you interested in gravity"

He laughed, a sound that seemed to dance through the air, "Ah, you see through all my secrets, don't you?"

"I've had plenty of practice," You replied, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Dazai's expression turned momentarily serious, as he looked at you with a glint of genuine warmth in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad someone's keeping track of my antics."

You nudged him playfully, "Someone has to make sure you don't accidentally fall into any more 'gravity exploration' missions."

His laughter echoed once again, and for that moment, as you strolled down the path with the sun casting a warm glow, it felt like the troubles of the world were distant and inconsequential.

Right now, it's hard not to feel small when faced with something so amazing. The world is tough to live in, but there are people who bring good luck to others. It's a reminder that these people are just regular folks, living in a world that's both dangerous and mysterious. But it's also a message that they need to do their part to take care of this world we used to call home.

[byizoyas]

© byizoyas.

❃ APRILLUC 2023. DAY 04 — horse | royalty au, prince!diluc, f!reader

event masterlist

you ran away from your house today; for the first time ever after your parents announced you the venue of the prince they chose to sell you to.

you weren’t exactly sold, but forced into this arranged marriage for the better, except you never agreed to, so it was pretty much the same thing. no one asked about your opinion about it.

‘you will marry that man y/n. you have to.’ your father said, concluding this conversation you’ve had earlier.

if the idea didn’t enchant him a lot, he knew he didn’t have a choice as to keeping you here or not. but still, it did hurt to think about his little girl moving away. you were still so young, you’d always be too young for him to let you go.

even if you cared about them, even if you would do pretty much anything for them, it hurt you to see how the kingdom’s peace mattered most to your parents. more than you. and how they decided, one day, to force you into this arrangement of theirs.

you had not asked for anything. yet you would marry that man in a few days. that man you were only about to meet.

you went to the stable, calling out your horse’s name. it ran to you, resting its head on your shoulder and you fed the animal, looking at it fondly.

this was one of the rare moments of peace you had once in a while. the birds were still singing; the sun was setting. a very beautiful scenery indeed.

‘you must be y/n’ a gentle voice spoke from behind, making you jump and emit a slight surprised noise.

you giggled when you realized how silly your reaction was.

the man before you was standing still, a hand in the pockets of his white pants and the other holding something behind his back. he was a bit taller, but he didn’t look down on you. his eyes were actually full of softness.

‘and you are ?’

his long red hair seemed fluffy to touch. he had reunited them in a low ponytail.

‘diluc. diluc ragnvindr.’

it was then that you realized, that he was your future husband.

‘diluc.’ you repeated. you had heard his name before but since you weren’t interested in that marriage you didn’t remember about it, and didn’t try making any efforts too anyway.

‘that’s right.’ he added

you looked at each other for a few seconds, a smile painted on both your faces. if you could hear his thoughts, you’d hear a sigh of relief.

you were much more gorgeous than what diluc had imagined. he was afraid that he would have to marry a much younger woman; because most arrangements were made with a prince, and the daughter chosen by her parents. so of course, most parents would abandon their most useless child to leave the house.

as to you, your parents never quite gave you the details and so you thought you’d have to marry an old man.

but seeing how attractive that man was; you started to think this was not the worst thing that could happen to you.

you kept on exchanging courtesies, using your most charming voice to please your visitor. the conversation was surprisingly flowing since you two only knew each other for a few minutes.

he handed out a bouquet of flowers to you. it was your favorites, as if he already knew everything about you, and even though it was only a coincidence, you thought fate did its job pretty well for now.

as you started to get lost in your thoughts, humming the great perfume of the flowers you had in hand; you got interrupted by the man who offered to escort you back to the castle where your parents were discussing their arrangement with his.

he stretched out his hand for you to hold it. pretty hands you thought and soft too after you accepts his subtle request. but as you were about to walk along him; someone came back, separating the two of you in your romantic moment.

[horse name] made itself a place between the two of you. it did embarrass you a bit; diluc was a prince and even though you grew up in a pretty rich family too, it didn’t compare to royal people.

rumor has it that they were capricious and impatient sometimes. and even though it didn’t seem to fit diluc’s, you couldn’t help thinking back of these things you heard and apologized in behalf of the horse.

but diluc only laughed. a beautiful laugh, perhaps not as much as the expression on his face when he did but still great to hear.

‘looks like someone is a little possessive.’ he chuckled, staring at you fondly before caressing the horse that was now standing between you two as if it was a safety barrier, and didn’t intend on going away judging by its posture.

to your surprise, diluc wasn’t one of these brutal men you’ve always been around. those who only see their horses as battle objects. those who wouldn’t hesitate to abandon them if needs be.

the only sight of that man acting so tenderly around the horse that had been your companion for years made you super soft.

could it be that you were starting to fall for a man whose name was the only thing you knew.

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Meet The Characters - Y/n Bishop

No Warnings | 0.7K

Forbidden Masterlist

Have you ever ridden your horse on a misty winter morning? Alongside the sun kissed lake? I have, I do it every morning before I feed the animals we own. It's beautiful, almost straight from a book! The birds sing their songs and the squirrels dance around in the flower fields soaking up the warmth of the sun, fish come closer to the surface as deer come cross the dirt road for their morning drink. If I had such skill in painting, I would paint you a picture but that isn't why you're here, is it? Well, let me introduce myself. 

I'm Y/n Bishop. You may know me because of my older sister, Kate. We live on Bishop Ranch, a short walk from the town of Blisswater. My parents Derek & Eleanor Bishop took off north for a business trip, they failed to tell us where they were going or who they'd be seeing. It's been many months since my sister and I have heard from them and with no idea where to send my written letters too, we can only assume the worst as happened…. but we hold hope that one day, soon, they will come through the gates with many stories to tell of their adventures. 

While my parents are away and safe (I hope), Kate and I have had no choice but to make our own money. Kate is able to make little money for us when she goes up to Soretooth to hunt for deer, foxes, rabbits and turkeys. She has a talent for using our fathers hunting bow, she sells the meat and skin to the local butcher. If the hunt is good, he'll pay her $5.50 for that animal. 

Twice a week I work at the general store, stacking shelves and making sure the store is clean while Mr Wilson handles customers and the money. It's not a lot of money but it's something, anything helps. I have a little savings set aside for if Kate and I need it on a rainy day. 

Kate won't ever let me travel with her, I am to stay at the ranch and keep things up to keep. I tend to the animals and crops we grow as well as keeping the house clean for the chance of any visitors. We have sheep, cows and pigs! All of which have their own names even if my father thinks it's silly for me to name them all. We also have a dog, a golden retriever named Lucky. He lost an eye when he was with my father hunting and came across a badger! Sometimes Kate will take him to Redpeaks just right to our ranch where he can help catch rabbits or birds for dinner. 

I make some money by stitching up rips and tears of peoples clothing. Mostly men are passing by and want their favorite shirts patched up. I make 20 cents to $1 depending on the size or tear. It's not great money but I have been saving it if Kate and I are ever in great need of it. 

Some of my other interests include: 

Painting even though I am terrible with it and barely have any paint these days!

Horse riding, as if I didn't make that already clear.

Reading! My parents always bring me back a book of any kind when they travel. My collection is small, but I love re-reading them as if I have never read them before. 

Fern collecting, I know it's a little odd, but my mother loved doing it and so sometimes whenever I am out on a ride or a walk around town and I see some, I'll pick them for her. 

Poker! My father has taught both Kate and I how to play, although Kate is a lot better at it than me. 

Seaweed scrapbooking, it sounds weird, but you can make some really pretty pieces! 

Taking long walks along Talon's Lake when the weather is kind enough to do so.

One last fact is that my father taught me how to use a rifle and revolvers, almost every woman knows how to shoot a gun but not many know how to aim correctly. Kate opted for the bow, but I was just happy my father was teaching me something to pass the time. 

I would love to stay and tell you more, but the sun is rising, and I need to attend to the ranch! Bye now!

Taglist: @madislayyy | @riveramorylunar | @teganmiller | @kyleeservopoulos | @yelenaslyubov | @kacka84 | @lesbiarmy | @meurgen | @caporal-nino | @sl-ut | @scarletwidowblackwitch | @dogtamer415 | @mousetheorist | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

[itsrainingpussywillows]

TEEF

Mikey Madison x fem!reader

- Inspo: Sophie Thatchers bird scooter accident, my own tweet, and an old 1D imagine

- NOTE: guys i am NOT a writer in any way i literally wrote this on my toilet when i just got inspired while reading Jake Paul wattpad fics , i dunno how to use tumblr i suck at this LMFAOOO also i rode on a bird scooter once 2 years ago so im #QUALIFIED to write this

I wake up from my slumber as the bright sun-rays peek through my blijds. I turn over to my right side my girlfriend Mikey Madison is still asleep resting peacefully. I admire her for a few seconds more and kiss her forehead. “G’morning” she says GAWD she looks even more beautiful in the morning. “C’mon baby we have to get up and get ready. Did you forget about what I have planned for today??” I ask with a chuckle “‘Course not I js need a couple more minutes.” she mumbles less than 30 minutes later we are already out of the door

Today was meant to be a fun filled day. We were going to go get breakfast at Dutch Bros and then we were going to go drive downtown and ride those little bird scooters but absolutely positively nothing could’ve prepared me for what was going to transpire later today.

“ hi can I get one large picture-perfect and one large chai latte?” Mikey was ordering, my social anxiety just could NOT handle that. once we got to the window, we paid and they gave us two pink straws. I squealed with excitement as pink is my favorite color and also they thought we were pretty #STRAWCODEEE am I right?

The whole rest of the car ride was full of singing, dancing, laughs, and overall just two crazy women hyped up on caffeine

we drove around for a bit more when we parked Mikey and I got out and begin to walk over to the nearest Bird scooters. Mikey pressed a couple of buttons on her phone, so did I and just like that we were all set to ride our scooters “Y/n COME ONNNN” Mikey said as she started ZOOMING on that damn thang.

We had been riding for about 30 minutes down the street until we reached a crosswalk. “ Wanna race?!” Mikey yelled from the other side of the street “ YEAH” I yelled back, It wouldn’t be too long before the crosswalk said that it was OK for us to go. “ ON THREE “ She yelled and began counting down

“1..2..3!”

we started speeding down the hill. I was in the lead we were both giggling and laughing until i was launched forwards. My wheel had gotten stuck on a small rock and launched me face first right on the cold hard concrete. everything from this was a blur I just remember seeing a bit of red and hearing mikey scream.

beep.. beeep .. beeeeeeeep

my eyes flutter I woke up in a bright hospital room “Y/n ypure awake!!” Mikey exclaimed “Oh my God I thought I would never see you again!” she said “What do you mean?” i asked when my doctor, Dr. Paul as in doctor. JAKE Paul came in the room to explain. “ well girl you had a Bird scooter accident. Also you lost all your teeth so you’re gonna have to get a teeth transplant surgery sorry!” he explains “What i losth all my teef?????!”

“ i’m afraid so, do you have anybody in mind that would be willing to give you their teeth? If not, we can just get you veneers, but that’d be kind of hard. You know you lost all your teeth.” I took a moment to think since I didnt want my lovely beautiful sexy gorgeous girlfriend Mikey Madison to give up her precious teeth “ no I don’t hav anybody who I fink would be willing to give me their teef” “Well honey it’s settled. Looks like it’s time for you to get some veneers!” he exclaimed in a southern accent before pulling out a huge needle. “W-what isth that?” I stuttered

“Horse tranquilizer!” he said excitedly and before i could interject he injected it into my arm and I was out cold. in what felt like barely a minute I woke up to my girlfriend standing over me. “Mikey I’m Alive!” i scream “Who do you fink gave you your teef”, she says smiling and that’s when I finally get a good look at her mouth

all of her beautiful pearly white teeth were gone and apparently inside of my mouth “But Mikey y-you cant! let me give you back your teeth. I don’t need them besides how am I supposed to kiss you? You have no teeth.” i stated frantically. “Isth okay y/n, you needed them more” she says hugging me gently

“But-“ “Shhhhhhhhh” she interrupted me “We’ll find a way to get me more teef, i promisth”

[bloodycassian]

DESERTED - N S F W READER X CASSIAN X AZRIEL -  NSFW WARNING - THREESOME INVOLVING DP MENTIONED. Reader goes on a mission with Az and Cas and is captured after some sexy cave cuddles.

Cassian’s legs were propped on the ottoman in Rhys and Feyre’s new riverhouse. His feet dangerously close to the fire. His head tilted back, wings splayed out behind him, he was the description of relaxed. Azriel cleared his throat behind you, hoping to give his brother the hint to move over.

With a groan, he tucked his wings in and did just that. The meeting was about to begin. He’d have to move anyway. 

Like clockwork, Rhys stalked in from one of the several beautifully carved archways. The home was too new to remember exactly where he’d come from, but his stormy eyes wiped that curiosity from your mind. The other two sat up, shoulders tense at the sight of their brother. 

The high lord’s voice was low. “We have a problem.”

+

The wrinkles of the witch’s face moved, but it showed no mouth when she spoke. Her voice low and gravely, she hovered a hand to you through the bars. The ancient bars that held her in her cell for over two and a half centuries. 

Her talon-like finger curled toward you, ignoring Azriel’s question completely. “When the scarred hand of death lays its pretty finger upon you, you will know no more pain. You will no longer know your life. Death will come for you, and laugh.” She sat back, her milky eyes closing.

A long, eerie silence followed. The beasts below her cell quieting. “We asked about the architect.” Azriels cold voice echoed into her cell. A rock prison for her to spend her days in. It would have made you sympathetic, had she not threatened you just a moment ago.

“And your fate answered.” She pinned her long, unkept hair behind a pointed ear and turned in her bed, towards the wall. “Do not ask for more.”

A dismissal. Your cheeks heated, rage pouring through your blood. You’d wasted an extra day coming to the prison for information on the Architect. She would answer. She had to answer. She was the only one who knew anything of the male. 

Azriel pulled on your arm, leading you out before you found something clever to say that would really upset the old crone.

+

Azriel’s hands were always a welcome comfort when you had to fly with them. He’d constantly be checking in, circling your leg with his thumbs, squeezing you tighter to his chest on downdrafts. He could feel how nervous you were now. Even with your armor and best weapons strapped to you, this was a big mission.

One that could disrupt the whole of Prythian and the continents trade agreement if you failed. 

“We can set up camp here for the night, I’ll check the perimeter. You guys get a fire going. We dont want to be caught without one when the rain comes in.” Cassian was already jogging towards the thicker part of the forest where the setting sun did not reach. Where the birds stopped singing when they sensed his presence. A predator in the area. They could sense it as if it seeped from his marrow. 

You took two steps toward the forest before Azriel’s warm hand caught yours. Gently, a request. “Yes?” You purred, knowing just what your tone made him think. It was been much, much too long since you’d been alone with him. Rhys had sent him out on a week long surveillance check in, and after that, the shadowsinger had been busy with meetings and bickering with Cassian about who would be doing the heavy lifting for this ambush. For this… possibly catastrophic fight that would leave the queens in the east reeling that their plans had been uncovered. 

“I’ll get the wood. You start the kindling.” He squeezed your hand and looked toward that dark forest. The weariness in his eyes….he was being protective, paranoid. 

You sighed, on the edge of fighting his request when he gave a small shake of his head. He was pleading with you. You’d know the argument before he even spoke it. So you nodded, and allowed him to collect the bigger stacks of wood while you attempted to collect dry tinder. 

+

The clouds that rolled in made the night seem even darker than it was. The sun had vanished beneath the dark gray blanket, brining a chill with it. Cassian returned not long after that, and hurried you and Azriel inside a cave he’d found. The tinder had been too wet to light. The forests of Rovani in the north of Rask were known for their humidity and rainfall. It wasn’t a surprise that fire wasn’t possible. Cassian was still hopeful though. 

The cave was damp, the only dry space on the floor being the thick blanket Azriel had brought. You shared it, all three backs pushing against each other. Their wings rustled, folding over their owner’s bodies to keep them warm and protected. You twisted and stretched, earning a slight grunt from Cassian and a soft sigh from Azriel when you brushed their wings slightly upon moving. 

The scent of them both rippled through the damp air, heated and… gods.

You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your body from responding. Trying to reign in that sliver of control that faded every time you touched Azriel. Every time he huffed a small laugh at any of your jokes. You wanted him, that was true enough. But Cassian… his scent overpowered the rest of the room, hovering over Azriel’s cool dark scent. Pine and wind and wild snowy peaks came to mind. That, and something more… male. Something pure and animalistic clawed through your bones, out of your mouth when the last of your control slipped. 

“Cassian-” You breathed.

They both went rigid. Your scent filling the air between both of their pheromones, mixing and writing together like snakes. Like Azriel’s shadows, searching for something. Needing anything to wrap around, to keep safe or attack. Only this wasn’t cold and deadly like those shadows.. This was hot and needy and everything you’d ever fantasized about and more.

Azriel was on his feet before you could say anything more. In front of you, holding out a hand and blocking the straining in his pants. “Let me-” he began, but you cut him off before he could continue. The heat between your legs pushing you to interrupt without considering Cassian. 

“I want you now.” You muttered, your voice deeper than what it had been earlier. Heat flicked across his cheeks, in his eyes. Your hand went to palm him through his trousers. He was so hard.. So achingly ready for you- 

“Fuck-” Cassian was behind you, turned to watch both of you. You hadn’t forgotten about him. Couldn’t forget about his presence, him watching you. It made that heat flooding you spike even further, knowing how much this turned him on as well. Knowing that Azriel liked to be watched, it heightened everything.

Azriel met your gaze while you worked his waistband, trying to get his cock out. You’d discussed this together before - having someone watch- but you’d never imagined it’d be Cassian. You saw that question in his eye, that knowing look that said he’d do anything and everything for you if he could… Then he glanced to Cassian, who was frozen, staring at you. Admiring your body, even still clothed. Like he was seeing you for the first time.

Azriel cleared his throat, his voice deeper as well. Desire and throaty making his tone gravely. “Would you like to join us?” 

In answer, Cassian rose. Towering over you while you were on your knees, he seemed even more mighty than that warrior you knew. He was… a god. Wings far out behind him, his chin length hair messy with water… He could have been the god of wind if there were such a thing. A male uncontrolled by any expectation or request. He moved to stand behind Azriel, their wings bumping gently, then sliding together, earning a sigh from both of them. It may have been an Illyrian equivalent of a kiss, if you weren’t mistaken.

Cassian bit his lip, looking down at you admiringly. Az’s hand went to his hair, playing in it. Softly, as if it were something he’d always wanted to do. “Show me what you want.” Cassian said, brushing your hair from your face gently. His square jaw flexed when you glanced toward his strained cock, how he palmed himself through his pants. 

You pushed his hand away, and ever so slowly leaned in to press a firm kiss to his thick member through the pants. He hissed, and Azriel muttered something that sounded animalistic. Looking up to Cassian through your lashes, you smirked. His mouth was agape, watching you slide from him over to Azriel, giving him the exact same reward. 

“I-” Azriel ground out, his hand rushing to your hair. He pulled you up, tugging at your roots. Your smile did not stop, not when he crushed his lips to your and shoved you to Cassian. The larger male held you upright as you stumbled, and Azriel’s hands were at your pants. Pulling them down with need, with certainty that he would claim this, that he would have his prize. 

Cassian’s lips met your cheekbone, and finally your lips when you looked up to him. He was soft, cool and well mannered where Azriel was brute force and demands. The contrast made you dizzy, made your panties soaked with the tenderness that he showed. The sentiment was quickly washed away though, with the friction of your panties being slid aside and Azriel’s hot mouth licking you. Tasting you - and gods - darting his tongue directly into you. 

You squirmed back against him, trying to feel him more, needing more than just his tongue. But Cassian’s strong body held you in place, leaning you over slightly enough that you hadn’t noticed it before. Giving Azriel the perfect angle to flick his tongue over your clit, sending that tingling urge to come over your bones. Forcing your body to clench and grind and need something to fill you. You didn’t know what sounds you were making by the time they’d both removed their trousers. Didn’t know how you’d gone this long without both of them. But you knew that now, there’d be no going back. No turning just friends again, not in any way. 

And gods… with the look of Cassian’s cock you were totally okay with that. He was thicker than Azriel, but shorter. The perfect head deliciously pink and beading with precome. He slicked it down his shaft as he watched Azriel push you back onto the blanket. His scarred hands went to your nipples, pinching them enough to draw a cry from your lips. He glanced to Cassian, watching as the male pleasured himself. Azriel’s other hand went to his own cock as he kneeled in front of you, his hand still lightly ghosting over your body. They stayed like that a moment, watching you palm your own breasts and arch your back, begging for someone to touch you more than just what Azriel was doing. It felt good, grounding even, but it did not fill your appetite. It didn’t calm the fire in your veins. 

You must have missed something, some kind of silent communication between them. Because Cassian grunted something, and Azriel nodded, eyes flicking up at him. Then, Cassian was at your side, watching you with a grin while Azriel- You groaned at the sight of Cassian’s cock in Az’s mouth. Watching how his skilled tongue lapped over the head, leaving it glistening in the small amount of moonlight that seeped through. 

You were going to burn. Were going to be set on fire by these two males if they did not satisfy you immediately. You sat up, pushing Azriel away from Cas’s cock before he could protest. You took over, weighing him on your tongue and moaning around it. Mother above he was going to be so full, so fucking perfect inside you… And Azriel… He stood, and worked himself right beside Cassian’s cock. He was longer, but not as thick as Cassian. And by some miracle, that worked out perfectly if you were getting what you wanted right now. 

Achingly empty, you ran a finger along Cassian’s length while you switched from him to Azriel, enjoying the familiar feeling of him. You made sure Cassian saw exactly where you put that finger, working yourself and trying to sate your need even a little. You knew for a fact that if either of them went down on you again you wouldn’t be able to help from coming. 

So you kept on them both, even rubbing their cocks together, sliding your tongue around both of them until they were panting, cheeks reddened and cocks twitching. They were ready, as were you. “I want you both.” You said, looking up to them. To Azriel in particular, who you thought would be the only one to protest the idea, given his protectiveness. 

But Cassian was the one who hesitated. “Are… I dont want you to..strain yourself.” He said with a huff of a laugh. “I can manage on my own if you need me to, is all I mean.” He pumped his cock twice, biting his lip again. His eyes drifted to your breasts, now peaked and waiting for one of the illyrians to pay attention to them. 

Azriel breezed behind you, and sat. “we’ve practiced… I’ve never known you to say no to a lady before, Cassian.” Az purred at his hesitation. His eyes flared, and he was joining you a second later. His head dipped between your thighs while Azriel lifted you. A long, slow lick up your slit left you arching back into Azriel while he worked you open with a finger, then another. A familiar sensation, but one that never got old. The thrill of having them both, at the same time was making you dizzy… that or all the panting and moaning you’d been doing.

 It was amazing how easy they made it seem, handling you like you weighed nothing. It made your stomach flutter when Cassian moaned looking at your folds, watching as Azriel worked his way into your ass. Cassian continued slowly lapping at you, pushing a finger in once Azriel was fully seated. You leaned back and kissed the shadowsinger, unable to help arching and wiggling on him, earning a hiss while Cassian pushed another finger in. “Feels..fucking good.” Azriel’s eyes rolled when he tipped his head back. 

“This does?” Cassian curled a finger down, toward’s Azriels cock and you felt him pulse. You couldn’t help but squeeze around him. His toes curled and popped, and Cassian held your thighs as he lined himself up with your pussy. 

‘Yesyesyesyesyes’ your body screamed, pleaded, for him. But he paused as he pushed his head in, letting your body adjust. “Fuck me-” you couldn’t handle the waiting any longer. You wanted them both. Now. 

Cassian hissed and curled his torso forward, leaning past you to kiss Azriel while he slid inside your slick entrance. It was heaven. As close as you’d ever imagined it. So full with both of them, so incredibly perfectly full and.. Gods.. pressure built as Cassian pushed in further…further… Your lips parted for him more and more until you thought you’d stretched as far as you could. Then, he stopped. 

The three of you lay there, all in states of pleasure unknown before this moment.. And you swore there was nothing better on this planet. Both males fully inside of you, fully blanketing you with their attention and desire…Your insides clenched around them, and there was no more time for admiring the moment. 

Cassian slid out, and worked his way back in faster, working quicker each time. Each time bumping your G-spot and pushing you closer to the edge that was already so tangible. Az’s soft grunts and pushes towards your ass were incredible. You hardly needed him to move to feel him, to feel just how perfect he was at just being there, letting Cassian’s cock rub over his own. Letting Cassian fuck you both into an orgasam. 

And the war general must have caught on, must have noticed the needy desire in both your faces as he took fucking both of you in earnest, drawing out the long strokes and snapping his hips forward, earning each one of your moans while Azriel sucked a mark onto your shoulder from behind. 

You didn’t know how you’d lasted as long as you did… but the moment Azriel’s hand reached around to rub your clit, you knew you would be coming undone in seconds. “I’m- fuck..I-” You panted, but couldnt wrap your mind around words. 

“Come for us baby, come on. I want to hear you scream his name.. Fuck her Cassian. I want to feel you.” 

It was the most you’d heard Azriel say during sex, even with other partners before. His fingers worked you expertly, picking up speed as Cassian’s cock pounded into you. You could feel the pressure of them both pulsing, both needing to come… and it sent you into a frenzy. You rocked back onto azriel harder, pushing your hips up towards Cassian and…. Fuck. One more flick of Az’s finger and you were coming. You were screaming something as the quaking orgasm reached its peak. Something that Cassian devoured with his own lips as he kissed you, sloppy and wet while he tensed.

“Fuck, fuck-” Cassian was panting, his arms shaking as your insides milked his cock, pulsing around him over and over while he tried his damndest not to come himself. He wanted to feel this, to enjoy this and ride it out for you… He pumped three, four, five more times before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Spurts of warm cum pooling all over the curves of your body. Azriel was panting as well, and lifting your limp body from his cock. Cassian collapsed on the blanket beside you, Azriel on the other. 

Both their wings folded together over the three of you, enveloping you all in a deep sleep.

+

The next morning was warm, flirty and fully of long, lazy kisses between the three of you. But by the time the sun rose, you all went into the same mentality. This wasn’t a vacation. This wasn’t a sex getaway, or whatever last night was. This was major, and it could get any one of you - or even all of you- killed

“This will be dangerous. There’s no going back once you make yourself known. We stick to this plan. Get the commander alone and force it out of him.” Cassian was protective normally, but now that you’d become something more with both him and Azriel… He was nearly unwilling to let you go.

Azriel’s hands ghosted around you, checking the knots that bound you like a prisoner. Hidden inside the one at your hands was a small, deadly sharp knife that you would use both to break free, and to torture the commander if needed. 

“I know.” You said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Azriel could still sense your nerves though, something in him jittery along with you. He swore he’d never let you do something like this again. Not after the last time. Yet here he was, letting you walk straight into the enemy’s cell. Like he didn’t know how that could end. He looked to his brother. 

Then cringed. Was brother the right word still? After what had happened last night? They had been brothers in a sense of comradery before… but now… Were they lovers? Azriel couldn’t deny his attraction to the male had always been there. But before it had been in an admiring sort of way. Appreciating the square of the male’s jaw, his beautifully crooked nose and how it made his sly smile seem ever more intimidating. 

And what would Cassian think of him? Were they a one time experiment? Sure, they’d f”d in the same room before, but never looking at each other. Always admiring the partner, never joining. Was this a step out of line? Was it crossing a boundary? And mostly, what did you think of it? 

Would you desire Cassian’s companionship from every night on? 

Azriel watched his knuckles turn white over the thick rope holding your arms behind your back. He knew this was stupid. That there was only half a chance of this actually working and the commander being left alone with a prisoner. But it had been Cassian’s and Rhys’s grand plan. Cas was sure that the sick need the higher ranking officers had would not be contended with. Especially not one as high ranking as the legion commander. 

Cassian stared down at your shoes, slowly working his gaze up the rest of your body. He finally rested his eyes on yours and caught your grin. “I’d say you look absolutely appetizing.” 

+

The makeshift cell was surprisingly clean considering it’s location. The commander’s tent. Red brown sand fling onto the foregin rugs, tracked in from your boots. The trek up and over the dunes had been brutal, and if you’d known how awful it was you would have taken Azriel up on the short flight to one of the peaks where you were captured. 

A female rider that made you keep up with her brutal pace of the dark horse she rode. If you had known you’d slip and fall four times while she dragged you behind, you may have asked to be a captive prisoner if to join her on the horse and avoid the embarrassment.

A male with a foregin tongue had forced you to your knees in front of a male that matched Cassian’s description of the commander. A dark skinned male with bright, blond hair and kohl smudged around his eyes. A scar across his neck, and rippling muscles that made him seem much larger than he was. His skin was smooth against your bare arm as he gently took you from the crowd that had gathered. Many males pushing their way to the front to see just what the commotion was about. 

A sharp word in that strange language and they were scattering. He brought you here, where you now stared at the ornate patterns on each rug, waiting for his return. The hours passed. You could have counted on one hand the amount of people you saw throughout the day. Unfortunately, none brining food or water to stave off a headache and the daze that the lack of sustenance brought. 

You tried as much as you could to keep the sleep at bay, by after two hours of complete darkness, and even the camp outside settling down - you couldn’t help but nod off for what seemed like only a few hours. 

There was dark blue light painting the sky when you woke. Internally, you swore at yourself. How could you have let your guard down that long? And worse,... that commander speaking in a hushed tone to someone outside the tent door. You closed your eyes, pretending to sleep yet again. 

“I’ll kill those two winged ones, you know.” His accent was graceful, yet deadly. Quiet and controlled but leaking complete truth and lethality. You had no doubt he would. Had no doubt that if Cassian or Azriel gave him an opportunity to, that he would take it. You stopped pretending and glared at the male. The blond hair shone down his back, the flatness of it reminiscent of a clear, swift stream. His cheekbones were high, and angular, eyes a soft almond shape that made the kohl seem unneeded. He was poised and deadly as any snake in this desert. A predator whos trap you’d fallen straight into. And Az and Cas had no idea.

“Dont bother playing that game, we can get straight to business.” He sighed, propping his sandals up on the small ottoman a few feet in front of the cell door. “Would you like some food? Water, perhaps?”

“I dont need shit from you.”

“She speaks!” He laughed, clapping his hands together. Bracelets jingled on his bare arms, golds and bronze of different sizes. “Despite what you think, you do need me. I can smell those two males on you, and I know just where they are.” You heartbeat quickened, pounding in your ears so loud you could hardly hear him. “I have eighty archers hidden and ready to fire upon them at any moment. I suggest we play nice.” 

“What do you want?”

“Tell your high lords there will be half the current rate of trade from Rask to Prythian. If they’d like more, they need to pay a new rate. They must compensate for my… fees. My protection through these deadly desert lands and for my… hospitality.” He finished with a sly grin. A knowing, evil smile that told you just what kind of hospitality he was speaking of. 

“I’m no emissary.” you struggled with the ties around your wrists, attempting to find that damned knife. Your heart sank. Sank past the floor and whatever lay beyond. There was no knife. You’d fallen on the dunes. It had slipped out. And you were stuck here, bound and caged with this… monster. The male that wanted thousands of citizens on both sides to die so he could gain wealth. 

He stood, and stalked in front of your cell. Adjusting his shirt as he did. “You’re a female with a wide mouth. I think-”  

“I think that it’s a perfectly balanced mouth.” Cassian’s sword dripped with dark blood. Lifelood. The boots he wore marred the expensive rugs with bloodied sand. One of his wings dipped lower than the other, penetrated with a pale arrow. Your heart leapt and sank again, then roared with furious pride and admiration when Azriel materialized just behind Cassian. Smoke like shadow piercing the air faster than any sword or arrow ever could, and splitting the commander’s chest. He gasped, and went pale quickly. 

Cassian was rushing to your cell door, where he rattled the bars and gripped, before pulling it clean off the hinges. You hadn’t realized how shaken.. How utterly terrifying the experience had been until you were in his arms, sobbing as you stared at the body of the male that had threatened you. That had threatened all of Prythian and Rask. your mind whirled with possibilities, questions, things you didn’t know if you wanted an answer to. 

Cassian rocked and shushed you while Azriel covered the body, and moved it away. You hadn’t realized you were still tied until the shadowsinger returned, and sliced the ropes apart with a swift swipe of a dagger. You went to his arms next, practicing slow breaths with him.

Cassian slowly worked on the shackles at your ankles with a bright red saw he’d materialized from his siphons. Once they were removed, they both held you together. “It was a stupid idea.” Azriel admitted, shaking his head. 

“As much as I like the idea of you being tied up, I dont think we need to do it for a mission again.” Cassian said, stroking your hair. You smiled, despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. 

[berristreasuredlibrary]

Unholy

Priest!TanjiroxFem!Reader

TW: male mastubation, perv!Tanjiro, obviously religion/religious beliefs, church setting, mentions of spanking, choking, edging, overstimulation, degrading is mentioned but not used towards anyone

A/N: I haven’t posted in a fat minute 😅 my bad, wrote this in class cuz I have nothing to do 😗✌️this definitely has incorrect church terms so there’s that. Anyways I need to finish my WIPs asap. Will get to that when I can. K bye!

You’re late.

You’ve never been this tardy before.

You’re punctual, each and every Sunday. Sure there’s the occasional 2 to 5 minute tardiness but it’s rare. This, however, this is concerning.

Fifteen minutes into sermon and there’s no sign of you. Your usual spot right in the front is empty, he notes. The first reading gets done and you're still nowhere in sight, it's odd. Where on earth could you be?

It's only during the second reading, right in the middle of it to be exact, that you come rushing in as quietly as you can. Face flushed, clearly embarrassed from what the redheaded priest can smell, but there's something off. Something else he smells that he can't quite put his finger on, until it quite literally hits him.

Your arousal.

Once you're seated and close enough, he knows he isn't imagining it. While working as a priest he's had some encounters with some….strange people. Confessing their sins to him in the small confession box that became stuffy and uncomfortable once they started confessing their deepest desires.

Ones he knew most of them acted upon and, in that time of clarity they had after, they felt guilty about. So they came to him, seeking repentence but still smelling of their arousal, mixed in with embarrassment of course, while confessing to him.

He's heard it all; women wanting to be tied up and blindfolded, used by a man as a 'cheap whore', even men wanted to be used up, roughly treated by the woman of their dreams. He's heard a variety of punishments that people fantasize about, spanking, choking, overstimulation, edging, even degrading.

He had never been so surprised in his life! The ways in which they wanted to be talked to, it was shocking. He could never imagine doing that to anyone, even if he was angry or the circumstances were different.

He counts himself lucky he’s ‘married’ to the Lord, not having to worry about his partners and what they wanted in and out of bed. He has some strange church people, he fears for even the children most days.

It’s lonely most days though, not having someone to talk to besides the Lord himself. He wishes for a hand to hold, arms to encircle him and hold him tightly. Someone to cherish and love, to make memories with, to come home to. To be his home.

He dreams of you.

It’s you that holds his hand, your arms that wrap around his broad shoulders or slim waist. You are the one he cherishes and loves, the one who makes memories with him, the one he comes home to.

You are his home.

Each morning he wakes up to the shining sun, the birds singing their song. Another day the Lord had made and given him, but it’s not what he wants. He’s not ungrateful, he’s glad he gets to see the beautiful colors of the rising sun, but he’d rather wake up and see you.

You laying next to him, hair splayed about on the pillow, plump lips open just the smallest bit, chest rising and falling slowly with each breath you take. The sun lighting your features, each little beauty mark or freckle on your pretty face.

Your soft breaths the only audible sound in the otherwise quiet room, calloused hands sliding their way under your body and slowly pulling you closer. Trying his hardest not to wake you, he holds you tightly against him.

He never wants to let you go, doesn’t want the morning to end. He wishes time could stop, he wishes he could hold you longer, relish in your warmth just a bit more. He knows it’ll end soon, your warmth will be gone, replaced with an emptiness he can’t seem to fill. One he only dreams you can fill.

But that’s all it is, a dream.

And he wakes up each time in disappointment.

He holds back the sigh that threatens to escape him as he rises from his chair, heading towards the altar. The choir is almost angelic, their voices loud, clear, and proud as he raises the blessed book. Holding it up over his head he turns side to side, showing the book and mumbling a small blessing.

Walking to the microphone he steals a glance at you, but you avoid his gaze, smelling of shame and regret. The same scent of those who come to confess after their sexual activities. It’s strange.

He goes through the reading, often glancing at you only to be disappointed when you avert your gaze to the small book in your hands, filled with psalms and other lyrics of songs. He’s confused, perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable with his glances?

Perhaps you’re leaving the church? No, that wouldn’t do. You’re a woman of faith, you’ve devoted yourself to the Lord. Your entire life you’ve given to the Holy One and you entrust that he will take care of you.

You’ve done your first communion, your confirmation, you’ve even talked about getting married in this very church. He doubts you will ever leave, maybe you’re just questioning your faith. He knows, as a priest, that it’s very common for young people.

Perhaps he can convince you, as he has many other troubled people, to reconsider and stay a part of the blessed church.

“Father Kamado, are you available for a confession today?” You feel horrible, shame is eating away at you. What you did was bad enough, but prolonging it and being late to church? You should be ashamed.

Nodding, Tanjiro takes your arm gently and leads you to the confession box, “Are you alright? You seem troubled.” Your face is bright red and his touch only brings on more shame, but you nod, “Yes father, I’m alright.”

Lies, he can smell the lie but he decides not to push it, maybe you’ll explain once the confession starts. He can’t imagine what you’ll confess though, a perfect woman like you? Practically an angel yourself, what wrong could you do?

He doubts God himself would turn you away from the gates of heaven, you’re too perfect. Too kind-hearted, caring, nurturing, understanding, too pure.

If only he knew.

If only he knew what dirty things you’ve done. The downright filthy, horrible acts you’ve committed in your home. The impurity of you and your mind, some women would call it practically horrid.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned.”

“May the Lord help you to confess your sins.”

You’ve never been more ashamed, but you know you must admit it, especially if you want to be cleansed of this. The terrible acts you’ve committed, you want to repent, you must repent.

So you blurt it out.

“I’ve acted on my fantasies, Father.” There’s a pause and you clutch your small purse, a shift in the mood, the atmosphere itself. The confession box becomes hot, stuffy, uncomfortable.

Do you try and backtrack? Try to make it less awkward? But how can you, admitting to something as terrible and unholy as that, then try and make it seem as if it’s truly nothing?

“F-Father, forgive me, I didn’t mean to-“ the creak of wood cuts you off before Tanjiro’s words do, “What kind of fantasies?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He can’t help it, it’s too much yet too little at the same time. The explicitness, the embarrassment. It’s much too stuffy in the small box, he need air, needs to cool down.

Off come his robes.

It's wrong. So very wrong but he can't help it, he knows that he's ruined himself, that you've ruined him. Tainted his very soul, rid him of his innocence. The very thing he prided himself on, the thing he was sure would guarantee a spot in the heavenly kingdom above.

Now he's not so sure, he's positive there is no way to redeem himself. Not anymore, not after what he's about to do. Not when he tugs down his trousers and wraps his hand around the shaft of his hardening cock.

Not when he slowly starts pumping, moving his hand up and down, feeling the prominent veins running along the base. He places his free hand on the wall of the small box, desperate to ground himself, to silence the sounds of pleasure that threaten to come out, choosing to focus on your voice instead.

You're embarrassed, it's clear in your tone and scent, but you keep talking, knowing that this is much better than keeping it in. You're repenting after all, it's what you're here for, you need to do this.

You go into detail, the way he had asked you to, explaining the way you pushed your fingers into you core, the very one that was dripping because of him. The way you rubbed the little bundle of nerves, only intensifying the pleasure you had felt.

Full of shame, you continue explaining, your face burning and your stomach filled with regret, twisting and turning in the uncomfortable box you shared with the redhead.

The redhead who was currently stroking himself to you words, with the filthy words coming out of your mouth he was able to form an image of you. It may not be accurate, but it is definitely enough for his orgasm to approach faster.

"I know what I did was wrong, Father Kamado. I only wish for forgiveness, that is all I ask for."

He takes a moment to respond, the blissful state he's in making it difficult to answer you, but he speaks, "The Lord is merciful, he surely will forgive you if this is a one time occurance, but please...."

He pauses and throws his head back, barely biting back a loud whiny moan that surely would get him caught as his orgasm crashes over him in waves. His hand only moves faster, he twitches and tenses as thick white ropes of his cum coat his hand and trousers.

His breathing is ragged, hair is tousled and sticking up in every which way, but he speaks again, in a lustful voice that has your stomach churning and core aching once more;

"Come to me the next time you feel this way. I believe I can guide you in the right direction, should the need present itself again."