#this is spectacularly self-indulgent

[mywingsareonwheels]

Coffee, cake, and ineffable solidarity - a fairytale on a sad day

We drifted by the shop twice before stepping in. Exhausted from the protest, cold, scared, sad, soaked to the skin. Fatigue and pain hitting. Really, really not ready to cope with the journey home yet.

And it’s not like the shop looked all that welcoming - dimly lit, a bit dusty. But it looked light, and warm, and more or less open. In sharp contrast to everywhere else. Bran managed to more or less navigate my wheelchair inside.

A white-blond curly head looked up from an endearingly old-fashioned counter, and then beamed at us. Then a tall, gangling person with red hair, a long black dress, and incongruous sunglasses rushed to stop the door closing on my back wheels before we were all the way in. I got the distinct impression that we’d passed some sort of test. I had no idea how.

The blond figure emerged from behind the counter -- suit, waistcoat, bow tie, and pocket watch all complete. He - I was assuming he - was about the most perfect owner of an antiquarian bookshop I could possibly imagine.

“I was about to close,” he said, “but you look like you could do with somewhere to be for a while. Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?”

“Oh Gods, coffee would be amazing,” I said. Bran seconded me heartily. The bookseller - Mr Fell, I assumed, from the name of the shop - ushered us both to a back area with a worn sofa, was blessedly unfazed when I got out of my wheelchair and snuggled up next to Bran, and went off into a small kitchen area to put on what sounded like a proper old-fashioned stove kettle.

The redheaded came to join us. “I’m Crowley; he’s Fell,” they said.

“I’m Bran.”

“Sulien.”

“You both use they pronouns, yeah?” They waved at our badges.

“Yes! You?”

“Ah, varies. Usually he, but today I kind of wanted to be in solidarity, y’know? Be a bit more visibly part of the awkward squad. Hence the dress. Well, that plus I look great in it.”

We agreed, grinning. They really did.

“So, they’s good just now. You been at the protest?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you. Ridiculous bloody result.”

I tried to speak, but suddenly found myself tearing up. I tried to apologise, but Crowley waved it away. They passed me a handkerchief (black, silk), and patted my shoulder. Bran kissed my head.

The kettle whistled. Fell came back in, bearing a tray of mugs, and a victoria sponge.

“You know,” said Fell, as he served us all coffee and cake, “there’s something exceedingly frustrating about humans sometimes.”

“There really is,” said Bran.

“And you’re both disabled and transgender, yes?”

“Yep,” said I. “Queer too.”

“Ah, yes.” Fell took Crowley’s hand. “So are we. At least, Crowley’s all three of those, and I only count as cisgender if you define it rather rigidly. I suppose we’re immigrants too, yes?” He turned to Crowley.

“Yes, angel,” said Crowley, grinning. “We are immigrants. Bloody proud of it too.”

“Yes,” said Fell. “So, um. Solidarity, my dears? You’re very welcome.”

We clinked our mugs together. The coffee was perfect. The cake was better.

Bran and I spent the whole evening in the shop. Nobody else came in. We got take away after a while. Fell brought out extraordinary amounts of alcohol, and when I told him that I don’t drink, served me a nonalcoholic wine that was uncannily similar to a Chateauneuf-du-Papes that I drank once in boozier days twenty years ago.

Fell was charming, odd, sweet, effortlessly generous. Crowley was caustic, funny, and gentle, with the manner of a rough character who has had to work on becoming kind, and thus gives that kindness both nervously and joyfully.

When we finally headed home, we both had that bit more hope and strength, all of our connections went smoothly, and all the lifts were working.

I remember that at one point I briefly mentioned to Crowley, who’d been muttering something about the need to make the Tories look as silly as possible, that I wished I could turn myself invisible and tie all their shoelaces together on their first day in parliament. I’d have cause to recollect that not long after. It was only Johnson’s, Raab’s, Duncan-Smith’s and Rees-Mogg’s in the end, but did give some great satisfaction to many people. So did the leaks to the press, not to mention the leaks in the 10 Downing Street bathroom.

I remember Bran and Fell both sharing an impassionated rant (very much in agreement!) about the need for determination and courage, for solidarity and compassion and love between all opposers of the far right, for those with privilege to honour and uphold those without. I had cause to bring that to mind too, in the weeks that followed.

I remember mentioning that I’m a singer, and being asked to sing something hopeful. I gave them a favourite of mine, a setting of words by Tolkien.

I will not say the day is done, I sang, Nor bid the stars farewell.

Crowley cried at that. Funny, how words and stories can bring good people together, even when everything seems lost.

[h-i-raeth]

Gonna be turning 21 in a week

.

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Pain is Contagious - Moon Knight

A/N - Self indulgent fic, not gonna lie!

AO3 available here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42039369

Female!Reader is in a relationship with the Moonboys - but she's behaving strangely. The Moonboys spin themselves into an anxious frenzy and decide they're finding out the issue regardless. Vague discussion of menstrual / period issues. Angst with a fluffy ending!

Perfunctory statement that I do not own any of the Moon Knight characters. This is unbeta'd, please excuse any strangeness! One swear word...

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

“- it’s really cool, innit?”

“Mmm.”

Steven can’t help the thrill of worry that runs through his veins at your response. He’s been trying to keep a smile plastered on his face all evening, but as time has worn on he’s found it more and more exhausting to battle the anxiety running riot in his mind. Something is off with you, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Something's off.  Marc observes in his ear. He’s watching from the reflection of a particularly shiny artefact on a shelf of the nearest bookcase. Jake is observing from the window.

Steven runs his eyes over your face again. Your response had been a short, tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes, and a quick glance in his direction before your gaze returned to the TV screen. You’d been pressed up against the other end of the sofa since Steven had tried to wrap you in his arms two hours ago - over an hour later than you’d arranged to meet, and after trying to excuse yourself from your evening together before you’d even arrived.

Your whole body radiated tension, right down to the thin, pale line of your lips set against your clenched jaw.

Finally, Steven can’t take it any more.

“Is something wrong, love?” He tries for open, offhand. He knows he misses spectacularly.

“No, of course not.” you reply just a bit too fast, another quick glance and tight smile sent his way. To your credit, you try to hold his gaze and offer a reassuring version of your smile. Then your head swings back to the TV.

Ok. Something's definitely wrong here. Marc’s tone is flat - his way of trying to hide his worry.

Steven swallows hard.

“Y’sure? You’ve been awfully quiet all evening. And far away…” He attempts a playful tone, making silly grabby hand gestures in the void of space between you. They fall into his lap with a thump when you don’t even turn your body towards him, just offer him another unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” Steven doesn’t miss the way your hands clench and re-clench in your lap.

Yeah, no - something’s going on here. Marc again. She looks tired, look how pale she is. Jake cuts in quietly. No. She’s clingy when she’s tired. How many times has she fallen asleep on us? Marc is starting to join the worry-train that Steven has been on for a couple of hours now.

“Yeah, me too. Why don’t we call it a night?” Steven suggests, gesturing vaguely towards the bed area with his hands anxiously hidden in his sleeves. His heart stutters when your gaze drops to your clenching hands.

“Actually, Steven, I’m sorry but I think I’m going to head home tonight. I’ll stay over another night if that’s ok?” You finally look up into Steven’s wide eyes, and your apologetic smile is off.

Steven’s mind is whirring with possible responses. He’s running fast towards total panic now.

“Oh, right… uh, what’s - why’s that?” He wants to kick himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your gaze drops again, the awkward attempt at a smile vanishing.

“I - Uh - I’m really tired and I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow, and…uh…” You trail off vaguely. Your hands are almost wringing now, picking mindlessly at the dry skin on your knuckles.

Struggling to swallow, Steven lays it out as best as he can. “What’s wrong? Please, you’re scaring me.”

Your head snaps up, and your hand shoots out across the sofa - but doesn’t quite reach Steven’s. It’s retracted as soon as he notices it, giving him no chance to take comfort in your touch. “No, nothing, really. I just… I need to get myself sorted out, y’know? I promise I’ll come over another night.”

Not “tomorrow night”. She said “another night”, not “tomorrow”. Marc’s voice is suspicious, verging on defensive. She’s allowed some time to herself. Maybe something happened and she needs to get her head straight. Jake sounds almost too casual in the headspace, but inside his mind is starting to whirl.

“Is… Is it something we can help with, love?” Steven offers hopefully. But you’re already gathering your things. Your jacket had been in your lap all evening, and now you’re wrapping it around yourself and fishing your keys out of the pocket. Even Jake starts to feel concerned at the speed you’re attempting to get away.

“No, no. Honestly, I’m just gonna go to bed. I’ll speak to you later, yeah?” You’re already nearly at the door. Steven’s panic almost makes him do something drastic - block your path, grab your wrist. He barely resists, following along behind helplessly, almost tripping over his own feet in his clumsy hurry to keep up with you.

Let me talk to her. Marc demands. No, you’ll make it worse. Let her go, Steven. Tonight it would appear that Jake is the rational alter.

You pause at the door, giving Steven a quick peck on the lips. “Night.”

Then you’re gone, the door closing behind you.

… Only one kiss. Marc’s voice is quiet, even in the headspace.

You normally kissed them three times - one for each of them. It was a cute little ritual the four of you shared.

For a moment all three of them are frozen to the spot, something like shock hanging in the atmosphere around them. It breaks when Steven begins to spiral into a frantic frenzy, pacing around the room, his fingers tangling around themselves and knotting in the cuffs of his sweater so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t dislocate or break any of the digits.

“Gods, we’re losing her. She’s going to leave us. The best thing that’s ever happened to us, and I’ve driven her away. What did I do? There must have been something -“

We’re not losing her, Steven. Why do you think YOU did something, Steven? Marc and Jake cut in at the same time, their voices overlapping in Steven’s head. Marc is pacing inside the headspace and he’s reflected in the long mirror by the bed, his fingers alternately rubbing against themselves and tugging at his hair. Jake is momentarily distracted by the similarities of the other alters’ behaviour, their pacing and nervous habits almost identical. He stores it away to study at a later time.

There’s got to be something we missed. Did we forget something? It’s not her birthday for a few months. Was it something to do with work? Or an event? There must be something important we didn’t notice…

By now Steven is struggling to hold back the full scale panic that threatens to engulf him. He can feel that sickly tingling in his chest, the ringing in his ears growing to an almost unbearable cacophony. He can practically feel his bones grinding together as he moves.

“Today on the phone, when I called her at lunchtime, she barely spoke to me. She said she was busy at work, but she always made time for our chat before…”

She tried to make an excuse not to come over tonight, remember? And the way she was speaking… It’s like she didn’t want to speak to me. Marc adds, his memory replaying that incredibly brief conversation you’d had with him only a few hours before at the end of your work day.

“I mean, we have just sort of… disappeared on her a couple of times recently. But she always seemed ok after - we made it up to her and everything…”

Of them all, Jake is the most steady. In fact, he’s alarmingly still, like a sniper waiting for the perfect shot. Reflected in the glass of the fish tank, he’s staring at the sofa, the gears in his brain whirring and churning out snippets of… something. Fellas, I think there’s something else going on here, I don’t think it’s us -

- of course it’s us! Marc cuts him off. She wouldn’t let Steven touch her all night, and she couldn’t get away from us fast enough!

“- yeah, you saw how much she didn’t want to be around us!” Steven adds. “She was so far at the end of the sofa I’m surprised she didn’t just sit in the kitchen!”

Jake sighs irritably. If those two would stop with their panic, he could think clearly. There’s something… something he can’t quite grasp.

The switch is so sudden, Steven finds himself propelled into the headspace and disoriented as Marc suddenly takes front. Jake practically steadies Steven, irritated by Marc’s disregard for their agreement not to force each other to relinquish control of the body unless there’s real and present danger.

“I’m going to talk to her. We can’t let her go like this.” Marc is grabbing his jacket and keys and is out of the door before either of the others in the headspace can formulate a response.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

The look on your face when you open the door isn’t encouraging. At first there’s surprise, then a flash of irritation before it’s replaced with a false cheer.

“Hey Marc, what’re you doing here?” Your pyjama-clad body is distinctly blocking the doorway, and you're not inviting them in. Marc feels Steven’s panic rise in the headspace and it solidifies his resolve. Jake is too busy watching the tension vibrate through your body under the baggy hoodie and loose pyjama bottoms, a slight bend in your middle like you’re trying to hide something. Those gears in his head pick up speed.

“Can I - can we come in?” Marc’s hands are clenched into tight, slightly shaking fists. Your eyes flash to them before returning to his face. You seem reluctant, but Marc is practically gravitating towards the door frame.

Is she scared of us? Steven’s noticed your tense posture too, but his voice is quiet beneath the chaos whirling in Marc’s mind.

There’s a pause in which neither of you give an inch, but your eyes dart to his clenched fists again and you seem to shrink in on yourself a little more. Then - “Uh… sure.” You step aside and let them in. They’re barely over the threshold of your tiny apartment when their body jolts and Steven blurts out -

“I’m so sorry! Whatever it is I’m - we’re - so sorry. Please tell us what’s wrong so that we can fix it! I promise -“

“What?” You cut his rambling off, bewildered by not just his words, but the mental whiplash of such a rapid alter-change.

“I know you’re not okay with us right now but please, my love, we can’t lose you. Please give us a chance to fix this -“

“ - Steven - “

“ - Did something happen? Did one of us do something - “

“ - Marc - “

“ - Whatever it is, love, we didn’t mean it. We love you so much, please don’t leave us -”

“ - Steven, please, stop - “

Somehow they’ve crowded into your space and you find yourself backed against the cupboard by the door, their closeness blocking any escape opportunity you might have had and the rapid changing of who’s in charge of the body is disorienting. It’s the flash of fear that crosses your face that brings the hurricane to a halt.

For a moment, Steven’s face goes blank, his body going still in mid-movement like his brain is rebooting. Then their face floods with life again and you instantly recognise Jake staring back at you.

He’s unnervingly calm, and there’s a softness to his features. Even his hands are pointedly relaxed by his sides as he takes a deliberate step back away from you. You wonder if he saw the fear that spasmed through you at Marc’s imposing behaviour, maybe he’s trying to put you at ease.

“Honey… are you sick?” His dark eyes hold yours steadily, something swirling in their depths.

Despite the gentle tone of his voice, you’re startled for a second, heart still pounding from the onslaught they’ve just accidentally hurled at you.

You take a second to assess the man standing in front of you. You find no aggression, no threat, just concern - and is that fear? - on his face. Thoughts start to rush through your head. You’ve managed to keep this regular nightmare under wraps in your relationship so far, and although you knew it would be unavoidable eventually, do you really want to be having this discussion right now? Did you really want to drag them into this… mess? But Jake’s velvet eyes are swallowing you whole and words leave your mouth without your permission.

“Sort of.”

You sigh, giving in to the inevitable and releasing some of the tension keeping you upright. Your instincts drag your torso down, curling protectively around your middle just a little bit - despite wanting to collapse completely. Jake sees it, and suddenly sympathy passes across his face.

“Do you have everything you need? I’ll go to the store for you if you need anything. Or find a doctor, there’s got to be an out-of-hours service.”

You want to cry at the soft affection in his tone. You feel your soul latch onto Jake’s just a little more, and suddenly you crave his company - Marc and Steven’s too if they’ll have you.

“It’s fine. Right now I just need to sit down.” You admit quietly.

Jake swears at himself. He should have thought of it sooner - he’d seen how pale you’ve been and the tension in your body for the last 24 hours, of course you need to rest.

His mind is already supplying potential causes - illness, stress, depression - but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions in case he misses something essential.

He’s already moving as these thoughts spin in his mind. One hand extends towards you but stops short of touching. He hasn’t forgotten the way you practically flinched out of your own skin when Steven tried to hug you earlier. Instead his other hand reaches blindly behind him to gently close the door and he settles for following carefully behind you as you head back into your apartment. He darts forward to snatch a fallen blanket out of your path as you carefully take a tense seat on the far end of the sofa, a worrying reflection of your positioning in their apartment a short time before.

His eyes catalogue several things in a few short seconds - blanket on the floor, wheat bag on the arm of the sofa, painkillers, chocolate and a hot drink on the table in front of you. You refused to eat with them earlier, didn’t want to be touched, seemed to flinch at sounds and movement… Something clicks in Jake’s head, and he hears Marc reach the same conclusion a second later. Steven takes a moment or two longer, but the flush of relief mixed with slight shame at his delayed understanding is potent when it arrives.

“Honey, you don’t have to stand on ceremony for us. Lay down.”

Your face drops with relief, and as you crawl unceremoniously across your sofa and curl up across two of the three seat cushions, Jake offers the blanket out towards you. After a second of hesitation, you gratefully open your arms to let him settle the blanket over your curled form.

Jake drops into a crouch in front of you as he gently pulls the blanket up to your waist, careful not to touch you. Tilting his head slightly to match your eye-line, he keeps his voice soft.

“Is it always this bad?”

A flush fires across your cheeks, and Jake hopes his face shows the completely genuine lack of awkwardness he feels.

In the headspace, Steven has paused. He’s never experienced a partner who suffers this way before, but his academic brain is already analysing it from a more abstract perspective, and it isn’t making him uncomfortable. In fact, he’s preoccupied with all the potentially useful information he’s come across.

Marc isn’t awkward either, quite the opposite. He’s had partners before, and although they’ve never had much more than mild discomfort and a few days of not wanting to be intimate, he’s aware it isn’t that easy for everyone. Jake can hear the concern in his thoughts.

As if you can read his mind, a frown forms between your brows as you ask “What’s wrong, Jake?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Marc wants to know if you’ve seen a doctor about it. He’s worried because he knows it can be a symptom of other things.” Relief and understanding wash over your features. “Yeah… They did a load of tests last year and didn’t find anything, thank God. Apparently I just get it pretty bad. I have to go back for a checkup every year just to make sure but they don’t expect anything to turn up.” Jake is nodding. “Good. I mean, not good, obviously but -”. You chuckle softly. “- It’s okay Jake, I know what you mean.” He nods again, quiet for a moment before he sighs and shakes his head. “Okay, fine… Steve wants me to tell you that he knows you’ve probably tried everything on the whole planet, but he’s happy to look up some natural remedies that people recommend.”

A look of adoration passes across your face before it twists into a playfully-irritated smirk as Jake continues. “ - I mean, I hear an extensive sex session is the best remedy -”

You snort and shake your head, swatting at his arm. He sniggers and watches as your expression falls, your jaw working like you’re trying to figure something out. Jake cocks his head to the side. “What’re you thinking, honey?”

You can’t meet his gaze, staring instead at the fraying edge of your blanket. Your voice is so soft Jake has to strain to hear you. “Are they mad at me?”

He can’t hide his surprise. “What? Why would they be mad at you?”

You shrug. Jake sighs. “We - It’s just that we were worried we’d done something wrong. Y’know, having a relationship with someone who has a life like ours isn’t easy -

You cut him off abruptly. “Your first thoughts were that one of you had done something wrong? You automatically assumed it must be your fault?”

Jake is aware of Marc’s tension in the headspace as he listens in. This wasn’t Jake’s explanation to give, but he also knows he’s the only one who can give it. “For Marc especially, he grew up always being blamed for things by his mom, punished whenever anything went wrong even if he wasn’t there. Steven got some of it too, although he doesn’t really remember it. It’s so built in it’s hard to break away from, y’know?”

He feels Marc’s shame, feels him draw back further into the headspace. Steven is tense too, a whirl of thoughts fighting for dominance as he observes both his headmates simultaneously.

A devastating look of sadness settles on your face, and Jake vows that he never wants to see it again if he can help it. Somewhere in the back of his head he knows they will see it again, not least when they finally tell you their full story. Your words interrupt Jake’s thoughts abruptly.

“I’m gonna need a quiet word with your mother.”

Jake releases a startled laugh, feeling Steven’s bafflement and Marc’s flinch in the headspace. The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them.

“Lucky for you she’s already dead.”

What the fuck man?! Marc exclaims in the same moment as Steven squeaks Oh my God, Jake…

A stricken look crosses your face, and Jake has to take a few deep breaths - not least to try and hush his headmates while he formulates a response.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t exactly say I’m filled with grief after everything -” He cuts himself off, watching your mouth open and close a fews times soundlessly before he clarifies. “I promise we’ll tell you everything, just… not right now.”

Your mouth snaps shut as you nod jerkily, and Jake offers you what he hopes is a reassuring look before he turns his attention inwards again for a moment.

He senses his headmates are settling again, going off into their own thoughts once more. Leaving them to themselves, he turns his attention back to you and finds you watching his face carefully.

“They’re okay.”

You nod, a look of relief settling on your face. After a second’s hesitation, Jake holds his hand out carefully in front of him - inviting you to take it but not touching you without your permission. After a moment’s pause you close the short distance and lightly entwine your fingers with his. Your eyes glitter as your voice comes out in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, it just makes my skin really sore - like I’ve got a fever. And I get kind of overloaded, y’know? Noises, and how things feel, and everything takes so much energy -”

Jake’s already shaking his head, well aware of these things in himself, and particularly in Marc and Steven.

“ - You don’t need to explain honey, just tell me what you need.”

[sameheart-sameblood]

Number One Fan

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: you get to hear eddie's band play a show for the first time

words: 1.3k

warnings: fluff, this being written in an hour and not really proofread (eeek! sorry)

a/n: god im so soft for this man i just had to write something. i've always wanted an 80s rocker boyfriend so this is purely self-indulgent haha. also we're pretending that nothing bad ever happens to this baby angel and that he gets to become a pro musician/go to college/be happy cause that's what he deserves.

read on ao3!

Eddie hadn’t been joking when he said this place was a shit hole. While you preferred dive bars over pretentious, overpriced ones, The Hideout was the diviest you’d ever seen. 

The barstool you were currently occupying squeaked in protest as you swiveled on it impatiently. It was a tiny place, half filled on this dreary Tuesday night. Those there though were making their presence known, a large percentage already spectacularly drunk. 

Most of them were harmless but there was a group in the corner playing pool that seemed to be on the verge of a fight. They were providing some entertainment for you as you sipped your drink but they weren’t the show you were there to see. 

“You sure you aren’t lost, doll?” the bartender asked, some concern in his eyes. 

Shaking your head, you pointed to the Corroded Coffin poster tacked to the bar post. “Nope! I’m right where I want to be.”

The bartender laughed and gestured behind you. “Well, there they are. Enjoy the show.”

Whipping around, you were just in time to see Eddie and his band walking on stage. Gareth took his place on drums as Jeff picked up his guitar and Bobby grabbed his bass. Eddie, electric guitar swung over his shoulder, took his place in front. 

He surveyed the meager crowd that consisted of you and a handful of drunken, middle-aged men. Your boyfriend surveyed the room with a cocky smirk, acting as if the room were filled with screaming fans. His eyes softened for a moment as they landed on you, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help yourself. The band had only ever let you see them practice in Gareth’s garage and the prospect of seeing a real show of their’s made you giddy. “Woohoo, I love you Corroded Coffin!” Your shouts made Eddie smirk again and he winked at you. 

The regulars were used to seeing this ragtag group play every Tuesday but Eddie still greeted them like it was the first time. “Good evening, Hawkins! What a beautiful crowd we have here tonight.” 

Another wink shot your way left you a giggling mess. “We’ve got quite the show for you tonight. So let’s see some asses out of the seats and head banging along. I know we’re called Corroded Coffin but I don’t want to see any corpses here tonight!” 

There was your cue to bound up to the edge of the stage. You watched as Eddie plugged in his guitar and noticed the slight tremble in his hands. For all his bravado, he still got stage fright. That only endeared him to you more. 

He looked at you shyly as you grinned encouragingly at him. “You’ve got this, Eddie. Knock ‘em dead.” You knew he was feeling self-conscious, taking on a new role tonight as not only lead guitarist, but lead vocals as well. After their singer had left for college, Eddie had been the one to step up and take the position. You were the only one usually allowed to hear him sing in earnest and even then his ears would turn bright red when he’d serenade you. 

Eddie laughed, covertly blowing you a kiss as he stood up. He surveyed the bar once more, letting his rocker persona take over again. You braced yourself as Gareth began the chugging first notes of Motley Crue’s Louder Than Hell. Any trepidation from the band members soon melted away, all of them lost in the music. 

The show went off without a hitch, Eddie’s vocal strong after a tentative first few bars of the song. They had transitioned from Motely Crue, to some Dio songs, and Eddie’s favorite, Iron Maiden. He’d surprised you by dedicating KISS’ I Was Made For Loving You to you. 

“This song is dedicated to the best girl I know. It’s all for you, sweetheart.” He’d nodded at you, leaving you shocked and grinning like an idiot. Eddie wasn’t always one for public displays of affection but you understood. He was most comfortable letting his music do the talking for him. Not even the wolf whistles and hollers from the other patrons at your expense could knock the lovesick smile off your face. 

As the show ended, the bar broke out into scattered applause. It was still a small crowd but at least most of them had stopped what they were doing to pay attention to the music. Even the rough housers playing pool cheered as Eddie thanked them. 

“You’ve all been lovely. We hope you enjoyed our music but if not, keep it to yourselves. We are Corroded Coffin and we’ll see you right back here, next Tuesday. Good night, Hawkins.”

You clapped louder than anyone, jumping up and down, probably looking a fool. But Eddie smiled down at you, kissing his guitar pick and tossing it to you. Catching it, you held it to your lips, silently thanking him. 

As the band cleaned up, you grabbed a round of drinks for them and waited in the biggest booth the bar had to offer. It took them a little longer to get to you, some of the patrons stopping them to congratulate them on the show. 

Eddie always played off any praise he received but you could tell he appreciated it. He caught eyes with you across the bar and you could see his shimmering with pure happiness. It took your breath away and you prayed to whatever higher power that he always remained that happy and carefree. 

Jeff joined you first, gratefully accepting the cold beer. Gareth and Bobby came over as Eddie chatted with the bartender, collecting the band’s proceeds of the nights drink sales. Your boyfriend squeezed in next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder. He showed you all the wad of cash. “Here are our earnings for the night. Fifty bucks. That should cover a few rounds of drinks at least.”

You shook your head. “Uh uh. Drinks are on me tonight, boys. It’s not every day I get to hang out with the Corroded Coffin.” The others cheered as they downed their drinks and went to get more. Eddie wanted to fight you on that, mouth opening to protest. You silenced him with a finger to his lips. 

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare. Tonight is your night and you will be treated like the rock stars you are.”

He closed his mouth, choosing to let you take care of him. Eddie pulled you in for a kiss, letting all of his tension from the show out in a passionate embrace. You came up for air, head spinning and a loopy smile playing at your lips. 

“Did you enjoy the show, sweetheart?” He played with your hair as you nodded. 

“I especially liked the song you dedicated to me. Who knew you were such a softie.”

Eddie, certified rock god, averted his eyes, trying to suppress his shy grin. “I thought you might like it. I’m not so good with words but I wanted to remind you of how I feel about you.”

You took his face in your hands, bringing his gaze back to yours. “You’re very good at words, Eddie. You just never give yourself enough credit. And for the record, I love you, too,”

Eddie pulled you in for another kiss, but it was soft and chaste. You ran your fingers through his hair, hearing him exhale contentedly. He buried his face in your neck as you continued to massage his scalp. 

“You really liked the show? Do you think we have a future at this?” he asked softly. 

You smiled down at him, so full of love you felt fit to burst. “It was the best thing I’ve ever seen. Remember, baby. This is your year.”

******

[gaydennisreynolds]

fuck it we post homoerotic basketball scene. macdennis sexual tension draft, 910 words, just silly self-indulgence

“You’ve got h-o-r,” Mac laughs in between gasps of breath, hands on his knees, grinning up at Dennis like he just invented comedy. “You know, because you’re a–”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot,” Dennis says, but he smiles back despite himself, passing the basketball to Mac with more force than is strictly necessary. It bounces off Mac’s bicep and earns him a string of inventive curses while Mac trots after it, stopping it with his foot and balancing awkwardly on one leg as he tries to grab it before it can roll further away. Dennis snorts at the sight--Mac is such a tryhard fucking loser--and like he can hear inside Dennis' head, Mac shoots him a glare with no real heat behind it. Mac scoops the ball up, flexing his biceps unsubtly, and dribbles it back across the basketball court, eyes squinted the way they do when he gets all laser-focused and intense, and he shoots Dennis a cocksure grin before setting up a shot which he spectacularly misses.

Dennis turns away so that Mac can’t see the laughter shaking through his body at the crestfallen look on Mac’s face. They’re having a good time, which can be hard to come by these days, and Dennis doesn’t want this moment to explode into thrown punches and split lips like it did last time. When he’s composed himself, he accepts the pass Mac offers and makes his shot from the three-point line, not passing up the opportunity to shoot Mac a smarmy smirk and waggle his eyebrows.

“I believe you get an E if you miss, dude,” Dennis says with fake pleasantry, as though he thought Mac needed help keeping score. “How would it reflect on you to lose your fifth game in a row?” he continues, just for the sheet pleasure of watching Mac start to get a little mad. 

"Give it here, fucker," Mac demands, and Dennis complies, biting down hard on the inside of his lip to keep his mouth from twitching up into a smile. Mac sets up his shot, waits, breathes, prays, and misses--the ball flying a mile left of the goal, not even hitting the rim or the square. Dennis whoops. “Fuck,” Mac swears, with feeling, and scampers off after the ball. When he retrieves it, he trots back over to Dennis and gives him an appraising once-over.

“Sunscreen time, dude,” Mac says with conviction. Mac’s own face is turning pink and boyish in the sunshine, and Dennis can feel the heat licking at his shoulderblades; he knows better than to argue this point with Mac, or try to take a moment to gloat over his victory. He doesn’t want his skin to wrinkle under the force of the sun, either, and Mac takes protecting Dennis from sun exposure very seriously. It's easier just to nod an affirmation and walk back over to the bench, presenting Mac with his back.

It’s summer in Philly, hot as all hell, and the midday sun sends rivulets of sweat dripping down both their naked chests. Mac takes a second to wipe Dennis down with his towel – “The sunscreen needs a dry surface to sink into, dude, do you want skin cancer?,” Mac had said, rather aggressively, when Dennis had questioned him on it years ago – and Dennis closes his eyes and doesn’t try to hide how much he enjoys the slow, gentle strokes of the towel over his entire back. It’s like being a little kid again. Who wouldn’t enjoy being taken care of like this? And anyway Mac can’t see his face so it’s a victimless crime. When he hears the snap of the sunscreen lid, he sticks his hand out obediently for Mac to give him enough to cover his chest and arms with. Dennis rubs himself down while Mac starts in on his back.

Mac takes his time, massaging the sunscreen in as much as he can. He spends a considerable amount of time working out the tension in Dennis’ shoulders while covering them in sunblock, and kneading the sunscreen deep into the knot at the base of Dennis’ spine. Dennis slathers his front as well as he can with Mac being so distracting behind him, and when Mac steps back Dennis spins around to have Mac rub in any spots he missed on his chest. Dennis closes his eyes, more to avoid having to look Mac in the eye than anything else, while Mac rubs his pecs gently–to make sure the lotion doesn’t get stuck in Dennis’ chest hair, obviously–and trails his hand down Dennis’ happy trail to check for total absorption. The sun is beating down so hard that Dennis can feel himself flushing red.

When Mac is finished, they look at each other for a moment that crackles with something heavy, and without breaking the eye contact Mac passes Dennis the communal water bottle, their fingers brushing as Dennis reaches out for it. If Mac watches Dennis’ throat work when he swallows, and if Dennis does the same thing when it’s Mac’s turn to suck down some water, well, there wasn’t anyone around to notice.

Mac smiles at him so brightly he puts the sun to shame. “This game is definitely mine,” he declares confidently, waving Dennis off with a dismissive flap of the hand when Dennis mutters, “you say that every time."

Mac misses his shot so badly that the basketball flies clear over the fence surrounding the court and rolls into the street, where someone narrowly avoids running it over.

[mando-forgive-me]

Pike Place

Flufftober: Work Husband Vibes And Dorky Nicknames with Marcus Pike

Requested by @prettylilhalforc

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader

Wordcount: 1.8k

Tags: Pure self indulgent fluff, friends to lovers vibes, over-indulgence in caffeine and general sweetness

“Who’s the new guy?”

Your assistant looks up from the stack of files he’s delivering to your desk to see who you mean then sighs wistfully. “You mean Special Agent New Guy?” You arch an eyebrow and he laughs. “Sorry, that’s what people are calling him. Special Agent Marcus Pike, he just transferred in from Austin. Art crimes I think? And there’s some rumors flying around about him and a woman at his old office, she broke off an engagement or something.”

You feel a pang of sympathy as you watch the man in question make his way across the crowded floor. He’s handsome, moderately tall and broadly built, the scruff lining his strong jaw as alluring as the curve to his nose and his slightly too-long hair that you find yourself yearning to run your fingers through. He looks friendly enough but no one stops him to say good morning or ask how his day is going. He catches your gaze and gives you a warm smile and a polite nod before the elevator doors close and he disappears from sight. 

You can’t help but feel for him, all alone in a new office with no one to stop the rumor mill churning. 

You wonder if he could use a friend.

You shake the feeling off as quickly as it comes. You’re just getting over your own spectacularly disastrous office romance and the last thing he needs is for people to start gossiping about the two of you. “Let’s give him a break then, yeah? No one needs people speculating about their personal lives at work.”

Your assistant blushes and nods. “You got it, boss.” He scurries back to his own desk, leaving you alone with a massive stack of case files to work through. You eye them sidelong, sigh, and get to work.

_____

Several days go past before you actually meet your new co-worker. 

“Let me guess… chai latte?”

You look over the rim of your Starbucks cup to see Marcus Pike smiling pleasantly at you, his own to-go cup looking absurdly small in his large hand. Judging by the briefcase held loosely in his other hand and the coat draped over his arm, he’s on his way to his own desk. “Hm? Oh no it’s-“

He stops you with an upraised palm. “Wait don’t tell me, I’m usually really good at this. I’ve already gone through my whole department.” He cocks his head, considering you before trying again. “Caramel macchiato?” 

You smile and shake your head, your fingers twisting the cup ever so slightly to keep your order label hidden from him. “Tell you what. You guess my order, I’ll pick up one of your Saturday shifts.” It’s the least you can do-  a small overture of friendship unlikely to get even the nosiest gossip speculating. Just friendliness between colleagues, and certainly nothing to do with the way your heart flutters at the sight of one dimple creasing his cheek when he grins.

“Deal.” He offers you his outstretched hand and says “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

You shake his hand, appreciating his strong, relaxed grip and introduce yourself. He leaves you to your work with a promise to bring you your favorite drink the next day. 

_____

Marcus is as good as his word. He arrives at your desk shortly after you do the following morning and hands you a steaming paper cup. 

This attempt, a chestnut praline latte, is a sugary blend of perfectly steamed milk, smooth espresso, and warm spices, all generously topped with whipped cream. Even the sweet, spiced aroma wafting up through the plastic lid is enough to make you close your eyes in anticipatory bliss, and you have to stifle a moan when the first sip passes your lips.

"Ohh, that's good."

Marcus’ shrewd gaze is fixed on yours, slipping only slightly when you lick foam delicately from your upper lip. He swallows at the same time you do. "But it’s not your favorite, is it?”

"Nope, sorry.” You reach for your wallet and try to pay him for the drink but he won’t take the money, telling you the drinks are on him until he gets it right. You bargain him down to accepting a coffee from you in exchange (“an americano with two sugars, please.”)

Over the next several days, Marcus brings you a series of different drinks, watching closely for signs he's on the right track. If a drink seems too sweet, he brings you something more bracing the next day. Too complicated? He goes simpler. You try to tell him he really doesn't need to but he's determined and secretly, you like the time it gives you with him. 

It’s not long before the two of you are meeting up slightly earlier, giving you more time to enjoy the beverages and each other’s company. You commiserate over tough cases, compare notes after interminable meetings, and generally begin to lean on each other for workplace support. You’re in different departments, but your roles are fairly similar and it’s good to have a work friend who can relate to your situation.

You’d initially expected Marcus to tire of the game (really, you wouldn’t have blamed him) but now that he’s on the mission he’s determined to see it through to the end. Or at least, that’s what you assume, since he turns up at your desk every day without fail, always bearing a new beverage. 

He tries endless combinations- an americano with cream, lattes with oat milk and skim, passion tea with lemonade and without, even a chai latte with pumpkin syrup, but he knows as soon as you taste them that he’s missed the mark. One day he even turns up holding a violently colored dragonfruit refresher.

"Ok I know this one isn't right but the young lady in front of me got one and I couldn't resist. Look how pink it is!"

Marcus hands the dragon drink over and you accept it with a laugh. "'Young lady?’ Really, Pike?"

He laughs and rubs his neck looking slightly embarrassed. “Ok, I swear I’m not actually as old as that made me sound.”

Still smiling, you hold the drink up to the light, awed and slightly intimidated by its vibrant hue. “Is pink even the right word for this?”

“Honestly? I work with art all day and even I have no idea,” Marcus shrugs. 

As time goes by, your morning talks shift from work to more personal interests, like what you’re each reading or watching lately. He recommends some of his favorite classic detective movies, you share your love of British mystery novels, and both of you discover a shared, secret passion for Veronica Mars. The next day he brings you a hot chocolate loaded with marshmallows labelled “Veronica,” and from that day forward there are always different names on the cups: “Harriet Vane” is hot tea laced with lemon, “Miss Marple” a vanilla latte with a surprising dash of cinnamon and nutmeg, and so on.

Joining in on the game, you ask the baristas to add names to Marcus’ cups. He’s always game to play along, doing a Bogart impression the day you bring him a cup marked “Sam Spade,” and an atrocious Belgian accent after “Hercule Poirot.” Both have you laughing until tears come to your eyes and several people turn their heads to see who is cackling about “ze little grey cells.” You wonder if you’ve gone too far bringing him a cup marked “Watson” (plenty of FBI guys have egos far too massive for them to enjoy being even jokingly perceived as someone’s sidekick), but Marcus just smiles and brings you a triple espresso labelled “Holmes” the next day that leaves you buzzing until you crash, hard. 

He finds you sprawled over your desk later that afternoon, your eyes glazed and mumbling about caffeine overdoses. He brings you a slice of cake left over from someone’s birthday to revive you and it’s all you can do not to propose marriage on the spot. Something in your expression must give you away because Marcus looks suddenly uneasy, his usual friendly enthusiasm replaced by a more pensive, guarded look. You wince but before you can say anything else, your phone rings and you have to take the call. He slips away while you’re still on the phone and you’re left hoping you haven’t just scared him off for good.

_____

When the next day of work begins with no sign of Marcus, you’re positive you’ve ruined things, and without even opening your mouth this time. You’re kicking yourself for it mentally as you settle in to start your day.

The next morning he's running late and didn't have time to stop at his normal place. He brings you a mug from the staff room and a promise to bring you a real drink tomorrow. You'd just gotten in too, your hands still chilled and you wrap them gratefully around the ceramic mug. 

“You don’t need to,” you reply, taking a sip of coffee without adding anything else. “You found my favorite.”

Marcus stands there gaping. “All this time and it was just black coffee?”

“‘Black as midnight on a moonless night,’” you quote with an amused, apologetic shrug.

“Dale Cooper, of course,” Marcus groans. 

It’s bittersweet, this moment of discovery,  and you can’t help but feel let down. The game is over, the mission completed. Without this morning ritual, will you still get as many chances to talk to Marcus?

Before you can broach this, his eyes meet yours, warm and brown and, you realize, as essential to your day as your morning caffeine fix. Your heart lifts when he asks “would you like to grab a drink with me after work?”

Not wanting to assume, you ask “need a new game, Pike?”

He chuckles. “No. Believe it or not, I’m not usually much for games.” His gaze is clear and direct as he faces you, though he does take a deep breath before starting. “Ok, here goes. I’ve really liked getting to know you and I’d love to take you out on a date. If not, no hard feelings and I hope we can still be friends.”

You’re beaming like the sun by the time he’s finished and, after a quick look around to make sure no one’s watching, you lean in to kiss his cheek. “I’d love that.”

Marcus’ shoulders slump in relief and he grins back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Except, how about dinner, rather than drinks? I already know I want to spend more time with you, Marcus.” 

He takes your hand, unable or simply unwilling to hide his delight. “Sounds perfect.”

Flufftober Taglist

@nolanell @prettylilhalforc 

Taglist for Friends Who Came in Clutch with Their Starbucks Orders - Thanks guys!

@keeper0fthestars @radiowallet @andthewishingwell​

[legendary-assassin-stance]

(for the sake of my sanity, pls gloss over how supremely self-indulgent this all sounds / is written. i’m here for a good time not a long time, if you want to argue ooc characterization, i’ll have to refer you to the CEO of Ghostly Grandpas, @legendary-alliance-stance

edit; taking el’s tags for context cus i didn’t think to explain it: #also for context yes they are still ghosts. they just manifest in a semi-physical way about orion (and noriaki) during their downtime lmao)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The muffled bustling from the floors below floated up through the hallways of the Arborstone inn, settling a low buzz to the background. Noriaki was busy watching the fledglings today, so Orion and his ancestors had the room to themselves, without Shiro grumping and grumbling about nothing and ruining the otherwise boisterous mood.

  Viktor had settled himself into a chair in the corner of the room hours ago, his attention taken by a book from the library that Orion had fetched for him. Orion himself was lounging on the bed, arms crossed underneath his head. Archemorus was leaning against the wall, arms and legs crossed casually as he and Orion chatted enthusiastically about the fishing trip they’d all taken to the Jade Sea a few days ago.

  Despite his reading, Archemorus could tell that Viktor was listening to their conversation with far more interest than he was outwardly letting on, and it was only when Orion lightly cleared his throat that Archemorus realized he’d allowed their back-and-forth to drop suddenly in favor of watching Viktor flip through book pages.

  “So…” Orion started, clearly trying to sound as casual as possible and failing spectacularly for multiple different reasons. “What’s up with you two anyway? I mean, are you guys…?”

  That prompted Viktor to finally raise his eyes up from the pages, giving Orion an uncomprehending look.“You are going to have to be a bit more specific, Orion.”

  The younger man huffed, shifting on the bed to sit up, draping his legs over the edge. He swung the limbs idly for a moment before speaking up once more. “Are you guys fucking or what?”

  That, evidently, was not what Viktor was expecting for a response, if the sharp inhalation followed by choked noise was any indication. “I– Excuse you–?!”

  Archemorus barked out a laugh at Viktor’s reaction, as well as the mildly bemused expression on Orion’s face. He turned his attention to the still-flabbergasted (and affronted-looking) Viktor, gesturing towards him with a hand. “You did ask him to be more specific, Vikky,” he rumbled, unable to keep the grin off his face.

  Viktor’s expression grew more flustered, obviously not expecting to be ganged up on by the both of them; he stood, book held tightly against his chest as he wheeled towards the doorway and moved quickly. “I– I need to go do something, if you would please excuse me.”

  Orion’s gaze followed the man until he rounded the corner of the doorway, eyes flickering to land on Archemorus once Viktor vanished. “So…?” he prompted again, interest piqued.

  Archemorus felt the phantom feeling of his face flushing, coughing lightly. “Well…” His gaze wandered the room for a moment before he sighed, letting it land back on Orion.”Me and Viktor, we’re… just friends.”

  Orion snorted in surprise, the noise seeming involuntary. “Wait, really? I genuinely thought there was something going on between you two!” Archemorus shifted awkwardly where he was standing, his gaze wandering around the room again – he’d been content…. to an extent… to let the matter fall to the wayside, and having it suddenly under scrutiny by his very stubborn descendant wasn’t how he’d expected to talk about it. Or at all, really.

  “It’s, ah… complicated.”

  Orion tilted his head, staring at the other man for a handful of seconds before he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “Wanna talk about it?”

  Archemorus couldn’t stop the grimace that pulled at the corner of his mouth, but he blustered out a sigh before moving across the room to sit heavily on the bed next to Orion. “Sure, why not. I suppose we can.” He inhaled, leaning back on his hands to stare resolutely up at the ceiling, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. “I’m just not sure how to talk to him about it.”

  “So you are into him, huh.” He couldn’t see Orion’s face, but he could hear the smirk in his voice, and Archemorus huffed out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

  “That’s one way to put it.” Archemorus flexed his fingers against the bed, exhaling slowly. “I’ve been in love with him for… a long time, honestly. I mean, how could I not be?” He shifted his weight so he could gesture helplessly with his hand towards the door that Viktor had fled through minutes before. “He’s not actually as much of a stick-in-the-mud as you’d think, once he loosened up a bit; he’s a bit snooty, yea, but he’s also brilliantly skillful, kind, gorgeous–” He stopped himself, flustering slightly at how he carried on, and coughed. “It doesn’t matter, I can’t tell him.”

  Orion hummed, finally drawing Archemorus’ gaze towards him. “Too nervous?”

  “Not… exactly. It’s more.. I wouldn’t want to scare him off, you know?” Orion tilted his head, questioning eyebrow arched, so Archemorus elaborated. “We’ve been together for so long now, since finding each other in the Mists. I’ve gotten used to having him there all the time. If I tell him everything I told you, and he doesn’t feel similar, it would most definitely make things… strained. Or worse, he’d just outright leave.” He didn't mean to let the hint of bitterness slip into his voice, but it did all the same, causing Orion to frown.

  “You really think he’d just leave?”

  “I… I don’t know.” Archemorus sighed, letting his head fall back so he could stare up at the ceiling again. “It’s not something I’m willing to risk; it’s not like I’m unhappy! I treasure the friendship we have as it stands, so why risk ruining that?” He gave a shrug of his shoulders, and his next words resonated lowly with the true, discontented feeling in his heart, despite the sentiment they held. “I can live with what I have now.”

  Orion exhaled a noise that didn’t sound convinced by Archemorus’ words, and the bed creaked underneath his weight as he shifted to get more comfortable, and to prod a finger against Archemorus’ shoulder. “I dunno… I really don’t think he’s the type to just leave over something like that, y’know? You should tell him.”

  That drew an involuntary laugh from Archemorus; he straightened up and partially turned to look over at Orion. “Since when did you become an expert on relationships, anyhow? You had a rough time coming to terms with how you felt about Noriaki, after all.”

  The tiniest of pouts crossed Orion’s face, and he huffed indignantly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion on your situation, old man. You agreed to talk to me, after all.”

  Archemorus rolled his eyes, though his expression was amused. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I can’t still kick your clever ass.”

  Orion barked out a jubilant, challenging laugh that was so similar to Archemorus’ that it made his heart ache. “Uh-huh, yeah, I’d like to see you try, Gramps, I’ll–” Orion’s voice faltered as his eyes snapped to stare at the doorway, and Archemorus felt his stomach drop as Viktor’s voice spoke up.

  “Archemorus, please refrain from battering our descendant. Even if he does agree to it.”

  Even despite knowing he was there, Archemorus’ entire body jolted, and he whipped his head around to look at the other man, who was seemingly making a concentrated effort to not look in his direction, gaze planted firmly on Orion.. “Viktor! I, ah…” he tried to speak, but his tongue felt like unwieldy steel in his mouth.

  “Orion.” The young man’s spine stiffened and he straightened his posture, Viktor’s gaze never wavering. “Would you mind giving… Archemorus and I a moment alone to speak, please?”

  “Yea, sure! I don’t mind, I need to go find Noriaki anyhow,” Orion’s voice was chipper as he quickly got to his feet, but his posture was still held stiffly, and through their bond, Archemorus could feel a small twinge of guilt – he could only assume that the young man felt bad for bringing the topic up when it was very likely that Viktor could overhear them at any point. Orion turned his head to give Archemorus an encouraging look before he moved to slip past Viktor.

  Viktor kept his silence until Orion’s footsteps faded entirely, only turning his attention to Archemorus once it was obvious the man was gone. “I…” Viktor cleared his throat and crossed his arms, shifting on his feet in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner.

  Archemorus felt anxiety prickle up his spine, already knowing where this conversation was going to go, and he got to his feet slowly. “How much did you overhear?”

  The other man flinched slightly, his usual mask of poise and indifference slipping the further they strayed into uncomfortable territory. “... Enough.”

  “Ah.” Damn it, this was exactly what he didn’t want happening–

  “Archemorus.”

  “I’m sorry, Viktor, I– fuck, I was trying to avoid this–”

  “Archemorus…”

  “I don’t want to lose our friendship over this, really, I don’t, but I understand if you–”

  “Archemorus!”

  His words died in his throat as Viktor snapped his name, and he simply stood there, staring at the other as the anxiety moved to squeeze his heart. He’d faced battles with only fire and excitement drumming in his veins, faced certain death with nothing but conviction, charged at Shiro Tagachi with nothing but resolution and a prayer.

  But this? Facing Viktor, right now, with the man knowing a secret he’d kept smothered close to his heart?

  Archemorus’ ceaseless bravery faltered.

  He watched as Viktor sighed, walking forward so there was a little more than an arm’s length between them. “It is okay, Archemorus. I am not angry.”

  “I– you’re not?”

  “No.” Viktor inhaled a measured breath, eyes falling closed as he seemed to center himself. “I am… a little frustrated, perhaps. But no, I am not angry.”

  “Frustrated…?”

  “Somewhat. But not at you.”

  Archemorus slowly let his tensed shoulders relax, though he couldn’t erase the concerned expression from his face as Viktor opened his eyes once more to meet his gaze. “Okay. But… you did hear what I said to Orion, then. About how I… feel.”

  The other man’s composure faltered again and his attention flickered around the room. “I– well, not quite the exact words, but–” His voice trailed off, and he seemed to take a moment to collect his calm and meet Archemorus’ gaze once more. “Yes, I did.”

  “And you’re not upset by it?”

  “No.” Despite the tenseness in the air, Viktor laughed as if he couldn’t help himself, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair; Archemorus couldn’t help but be enraptured by the movement and Viktor’s voice, losing his own for a moment as he stared. “Dwayna above, I am far from upset by it.”

  Archemorus’ heart flipped, and he managed a quiet, “Does that mean–” before Viktor interrupted him, having fallen back into his crossed-arms stance.

  “Archemorus.” Viktor stood as still as a statue, the only signs that he was not as steady as he seemed being the slight shake to his hand resting on his arm and the restless flickering of his gaze.

  “Yes?”

  “All this time…” Viktor sighed, fingers tapping lightly against his bicep. “I could never… tell the nature of your feelings towards me.”

  Archemorus felt the incredulous look crawl onto his face at those words. How could he have made it clearer? Between the endearing pet names, and talking about the man like he hung the moon in the sky–

  Viktor’s expression seemed to soften at the look he got from Archemorus and he offered a small gesture with his hand. “I do suppose, in hindsight, it is a little… silly that I did not realize, but, in my defense, I had assumed that because you never said anything to the contrary, your… affectionate behavior towards me was merely platonic.”

  Archemorus was silent for a handful of seconds as he chewed that new information over in his mind. Exhaling through his nose finally snapped something in his control and a chuckle escaped him, soon turning into uproarious laughter. The expression of Viktor’s face was startled by the change in demeanor, and he kept silent as the other man’s laughter flustered his stoic expression. He waited as Archemorus attempted a few times to speak, only to fall victim to his laughter once again each time.

  Finally, after a minute, Archemorus calmed himself enough to finally breathe out a coherent sentence. “By the Three Queens, you’re telling me that we’ve both been dancing around this for… what, how long now? Hundreds of years?”

  “I–” Viktor huffed with a small bit of indignance, though his expression betrayed how off-kilter all of this was making him feel; after a moment, he also laughed, though far lighter than the booming of Archemorus’. “Yes, I believe we both have been.”

  Archemorus shook his head, running his hands through his hair much like Viktor had minutes before. “Wow.”

  “It is a touch embarrassing, isn’t it?”

  Archemorus snorted lightly. “A little bit. But…” He took a step forward, closing the distance between them in a single stride and reaching out a hand to Viktor, startling the man slightly as Archemorus’ fingers grazed his cheek; he leaned into the contact, and Archemorus grinned lightly.

  “Yes?”

  “Even if it did take us this long to finally figure things out, I’m… glad we finally talked about this.”

  Viktor’s eyes scanned Archemorus’ face for a moment before the smallest hint of a smile tilted the corner of his mouth upwards. “So am I.” He lifted his head away from the man’s touch, stepping forward to close what little distance was left between them, to the point that Viktor was brushing against Archemorus’ chest. “I… I love you, Archemorus.”

  The grin on Archemorus’ face grew, and he moved to wrap his arms around Viktor, pulling the man into a tight hug, leaning back seconds later to press an angle-awkward, but passionate, kiss against Viktor’s lips, which the man returned after a tiny bit of blustering. Unwilling to break the contact, Archemorus rumbled a gentle, “I love you too, Vikky,” against Viktor’s mouth, chuckling when the other man gently flicked his ear in response to the pet name.

[nagoo]

this'll be my basic idea for bun kaeya I think! tis just the overall concept so its very simplified.

 the sleeves are tied up in knots because hes always up to no good! this way he cant cause mischief as easily because he cant use his hands properly (there had been an issue with Kaeya making rude gestures at visitors)

its also why his shirt is much too large! gotta have a shirt with sleeves long enough to contain him

 this backfired spectacularly bc now he just runs around slapping ppl with his sleeves.

the back of his shorts is corset styled and is open all the way down to just beneath his bunny tail, so that it can poke through.

this is incredibly self indulgent and i wont apologize

[tamquamalteradam]

Kevin Day x the Gangsey

self indulgent post in honor of being sucked into the aftg fandom... can we talk about how trc and aftg could totally be happening in the same world, early 2000s and all

Gansey

Gansey, standing in line in the cafeteria: hey, Kevin right? I really enjoyed your presentation in World Hist, would you happen to know anything about Welsh kings?

Kevin: you mean like, Owain Glyndŵr?

Gansey: *starry eyes*

They proceed to sit together and exchange history book recs

Kevin has never had anyone attentively listen to him talk about history before and actually care about what he’s saying, so he’s like *what is this feeling???* (the feeling was friendship, but neither of them had ever experienced anyth-)

Kevin helping Gansey in French

KEVIN AND GANSEY LATE NIGHT COMPANIONSHIP

They both can't sleep so Gansey does his ley line research while Kevin does his exy diagramming shit and all you can hear is amicable silence and the scratching of pencils and Gansey occasionally asking Kevin what he thinks about this or that theory

One night Gansey is in an anxious mood and Kevin's like *you know what helps me when I'm anxious? Exy.* so he takes Gansey to the court and teaches him some of the basics

Gansey has upper body strength from rowing but his balance and coordination are shit

So he kind of fails spectacularly but he's smiling by the end of it so Kevin's satisfied (although sorely disappointed in Gansey's lack of Exy potential and trying not to show it-- *one man can't have everything*)

KEVIN'S ONE FLAW, IN GANSEY'S EYES, IS HIS AVERSION TO THE CAMARO

Kevin: I am not looking at anything bright orange ever again.

Gansey: ☹️

Adam

ACADEMIC RIVALS TO FRIENDS. YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. THESE TWO PERFECTIONIST WORKAHOLIC CAPRICORN RISING BITCHES-

It all started when Kevin took Adam’s long held seat as top of the class in biology

Adam is like *who is this new kid* and also *why are he and Gansey thick as thieves*

Of course Gansey introduces them, and at first Adam doesn’t really think much of Kevin given his background and attitude

But slowly they earn each other’s grudging respect

Much like Adam and Declan, Adam and Kevin see right through each other's guises

Also thinking of when Adam recognized the fear in Opal and gave her his watch to comfort her. I think he would recognize the fear in Kevin and post-TRK Adam would try to help (except it's not a Crying Club situation, it would be a much more equal friendship)

Ronan

Kevin: this kid could outlast Andrew in a staring competition

*why does he always carry around a RAVEN, of all animals*

Chainsaw, being a very smart bird, notices Kevin’s discomfort and tries to be extra entertaining (of course, her version of entertaining is singing the murder squash song in her eerily human voice. it does not help.)

Kayleigh Day was Irish right? Imagine them at the Barns, Ronan leading them through the house and Kevin sees a dusty instrument in the corner

Kevin, turning to Gansey: I used to play that

Adam, deadpan: you and Ronan should start a band: "The Bald Bagpipers".

Ronan: *death glare*

Henry

They would be besties. I can feel it in my BONES

Them at Exites geeking out and debating the merits and shortcomings of various Exy racquets

Henry would pretend to know more about Exy than he does but somehow get away with it because he's Henry and his enthusiasm wins Kevin over

As a product of hanging out with Kevin, Henry is now a massive USC stan by proxy and they stream matches on the Litchfield house movie projector (if I had a nickel for every time I talk about the Litchfield house movie projector I'd have two nickels)

Eventually they would rope Gansey in too and they become the unofficial Jeremy Knox fanclub

Blue

Blue meeting Kevin would be Blue meeting Gansey at Nino's INTENSIFIED

Somehow I feel like she would judge him less because he doesn't try to hide the fact that he's rich? (don't forget about the time Kevin was canonically like "yeah i'm expensive, coach should've known when he signed me")

However the mutual wariness would go on for a long time before they warm up to each other

I don't really see them becoming super close but eventually they start judging people together and boy would you get !!!roasted!!! by Sargent/Day

Kevin never lets on that he actually thinks Blue is hella cool but she knows

She knits him some fingerless gloves in the Foxes colors and he wears them occasionally. one day the TV is on in the background while the Gangsey's chilling at Monmouth and they see Kevin talking to a reporter and he's wearing the gloves

No one says anything about it but they're like *ah. blue likes you, therefore you are one of us now*

Noah

Can relate to each other because they are #deadinside and got their bones smashed to bits with long rectangle-esque objects by people who were supposed to be their friends

Ouch

Kevin can't get over Noah being a ghost and how everyone treats it like a totally normal thing

"So he just? Exists? And can? Appear out of thin- Ok. okAY."

Noah pulls his trick of seeing people's thoughts and he's like holy moly there is more to this man than he lets on

Scares Kevin half to death by materializing in the stands during his midnight Exy practices

Bonus: Noah and Andrew LMAO I can imagine Noah messing with him

Andrew: *throws knife*

*knife goes right through Noah and hits the ground*

Andrew: *squints ever so slightly*

[haredjarris]

kinda wanna write or read about louis and lestat’s reactions to

claudia burning her arm so badly. there’s no way they wouldn’t have heard her scream and even if lestat was still angry with her he would have got up to check it wasn’t something that was endangering them all, like an intruder. i’m sure louis would be heartbroken. that’s his baby, and she hurt herself on purpose. he would cry and try to heal it with his own blood but she wouldn’t let him. lestat’s feelings i think would be a little more complex. more anger, but somehow some jealousy, feeling “i wish i could fall apart so spectacularly but i mustn’t”. she won’t even cover it until it heals and this makes lestat enraged. he finds it so self-indulgent of her to make him see it. to show him where he failed as a parent and again, the jealousy, wishing he could make people see on the outside how hurt he is on the inside but he can’t show that kind of “weakness”.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lessons 10-12

Masterlist

Time for a Freaky Friday situation, an Isekai situation, and a fun family trip! And what’s a fun family trip without helping your uncle who is trapped in an attic and trying to raise a cat with your half-brother/uncle/whatever whose in your father’s body? Dear Grandfather God… get MC some help-

Let’s pick up where we left off last time with MC and Belphie >:)

“No need to be nervous, I won’t bite.” Belphie tapped his knuckles against the door he was leaning on to emphasize his point. “And I can’t on account of the magic door.”

“Why…” MC began before straightening their posture and clearing their throat. “What are you doing up here? I was told you were in the human world.”

“As you can see,” Belphie sighed. “I’m not. I’ve been stuck in the attic since before you got here.”

“But why?”

“Lucifer.”

MC narrowed their eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He locked me up here, rude, right?” Belphie’s carefree tone heavily contrasted how tense his shoulders were as he leaned oh-too casually on the doorframe. “To cut right to the chase, I need your help.”

“My… help..?”

“Yep. I need you to get me out of here.” Upon seeing MC’s scandalized expression, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Calm down, I’ll explain.”

Belphie began his explanation. “So, Lucifer and I got into a little brotherly spat that got blown out of proportion, it was really all a misunderstanding. I want to be able to have a civil conversation with Lucifer that isn’t marred by my… prison.”

“Mammon told me that you opposed the exchange program, and that’s why you got sent to the human world.” MC said quietly. Ugh, they almost cursed themselves out then and there for all the muttering they were doing. They weren’t some guilty child!

Belphie had a look on his face that MC had seen on the five other brothers. The look that always preceded one of the brothers calling Mammon a scumbag, a moron, an idiot, or something equally nasty. The look quickly disappeared as Belphie gave MC a halfhearted shrug.

“I was, yes. But I couldn’t care less about that now.” Belphie waved his hand in the air like he was waving off the whole issue. “It was my bad, really. I was being unreasonable, and I got pissed.”

“What exactly do you need me to do to get you out of there?” MC asked, clenching and unclenching their fist to get the tension out.

“I need you to undo the spell holding the door shut. If you were anyone else, I’d be asking you to make pacts with my brothers in order to override Lucifer’s spell and open the door,” Belphie’s eyes flashed again. “But you… you can just use some of your magic, can’t you? I assume Lucifer passed some of his power down to you?”

MC stiffened and took a step back from the door. “How did you-”

“MC, I’ve lived with Lucifer for over five thousand years, I know his magical signature as well as I know my own, and yours is too damn close to his to be a wild coincidence. And,” Belphie gestured at MC. “You look and act like a mini him. It’s cute, honestly.”

MC frowned, cute?! MC wasn’t cute! But that was a… decent explanation..?

“So,” Belphie took a step back from the door. “Put your hand on the door, and try to open it. You might feel some magical resistance but if your magic is similar enough to Lucifer’s you might be able to open it without any difficulty at all.”

MC reached out, then hesitated. “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

“MC, you’re my brother’s kid. I don’t want this dumb fight between me and Lucifer to break my family apart. Besides, it’ll be nice to have you as a part of the family too. I don’t want to sully that by being stuck up here.”

Part of the family? MC’s eyes practically sparkled. A real part of their new family… they looked up at Belphegor and nodded.

“Okay, here I go…” MC tentatively placed their hand on the door.

It began to burn at an intensity that nearly made MC scream and collapse on the spot. Their hand was glued to the door as the door’s spell seemed to crawl its way up their arm. MC countered with the biggest burst of their own magic they could possibly muster.

The blast of bright blue that slammed into the door made it creak back and forth slightly, but the spell held its ground.

MC snatched their hand back and stared expectantly at the door. They swayed on their feet slightly as they looked up at Belphegor, who tapped the door. When blue sparks met his hand, he frowned.

“It didn’t… it didn’t work… I’m…” MC paused before they apologized, they didn’t have to. They tried their best, didn’t they? They just needed to get a better hold of their magic. “I’ll get stronger, I’ll get better at magic and then I’ll come back and open the door.”

Belphie sighed in relief and smiled at MC. “Thank you, MC. You’re really helping me out here, you’re sweet.” Belphie then crouched ever so slightly to get to MC’s level, and smirked conspiratorially. “You know, all powerful demons need snacks to recharge their magic, right? Mammon has a massive stash of candy that he thinks is secret hidden in one of the potted plants in the planetarium. You didn’t hear this from me though.”

They gave Belphegor a small smile. “I’ll get you out soon, okay?”

“I trust that you will.”

———

Disgusting.

That was the one thought that permeated through Belphegor’s mind when he first saw MC.

The thought remained throughout the entire first encounter, and the feeling of roiling nausea only grew when MC’s attempt to break Lucifer’s spell failed spectacularly. Belphie tried as best as he could to follow MC’s retreating form down the attic hallway, but his vision was limited.

A half demon. Truly Lucifer had fallen from whatever grace he still had left from a time where his youngest brother actually respected him.

A half human child. Did Lucifer truly have no self respect? A proud high ranking demon, the second strongest in the entire Devildom, in fact, had a half human child.

How monumentally stupid.

Belphegor was no stranger to half-demons, he had been alive far too long to have never come across one. A few hundred years ago they were much more common, running around the human world wreaking havoc and scurrying around the Devildom like scared mice. The duality always made Belphie smile. They may have been beings of pure terror in the human world, but their demon half could never compare to real demons in the Devildom.

Asmodeus held the unofficial record for most half demon children, obviously. As much as Belphegor absolutely detested humans, he couldn’t exactly fault his older brother. Asmo was the Avatar of Lust after all, and the Avatar of Sloth of all people couldn’t judge him for indulging in his sin every once and a while.

Hell, even Satan and Mammon occasionally had children pop up in the human world. The difference, the thing that made all the difference was that they never brought their… spawn home. They never brought their half-human little monsters into his home.

What gave Lucifer the right to do so? The right to bring that into Belphegor’s home? One of the beings responsible for the death of their sister. His sister. Did he not care about that at all?!

Belphegor collapsed onto the bed in the attic, ruffling his hair and shutting his eyes.

The brat couldn’t even break the door.

The thought almost caused Belphegor to laugh. The little brat couldn’t even break the door.

He cracked up, muffling his laughter with his hand. The child was Lucifer’s and they couldn’t even fully break the door. My my, how the mighty have fallen. It had taken over three months for Belphegor to even get close to being able to get into that little brat’s head to call them up to him, and they couldn’t even break the door?

Belphie’s borderline hysterical laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation stopped abruptly as he looked around the room. Something-

Someone was glaring at him.

His eyes instinctively darted to the door, the most logical conclusion was that the brat had snitched and Lucifer was at the door. But the hallway was empty. The feeling of being watched made him shudder, then stiffen. He tilted his head and sat in silence. No sound, just the familiar smell of…

The Celestial Realm.

Belphie dragged a hand down his face and growled, lying back down and clamping his eyes shut. He needed to sleep.

So, that was the first problem MC had to face that month, the second was the fact that Satan snuck a cat into the house and he and MC were co-parenting it in secret. The third problem was Satan was still acting like a massive dickwad. All this fighting wasn’t good for baby Detective Toe Beans!

After receiving the “Lucifer got so mad he gave birth” talk from the other brothers, MC could have had their own rage-baby then and there.

I have never regretted typing a sentence more, but anyway, MC was on a warpath to find Satan.

‘Calm down,’ MC thought to themselves as they walked down the hallway of the HOL. ‘Don’t overreact, maybe this is all some big misunderstanding.’

The demon they were hoping to find was walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Satan gave MC a half nod and barely acknowledged them.

“Hi Satan!” MC chirped, trying to sound as friendly as possible. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

After being so coldly snubbed, MC stood in the hallway completely motionless, until of course the little voice crawled its way up their spine and nestled in the base of their skull.

‘Who does he think he is?’

MC squared their shoulders and started after Satan, resolute in their totally non-suicidal goal of chastising him for his behaviour.

“Satan!” MC threw his door open and crossed their arms, the room was a complete mess of books and loose papers as usual, the Avatar of Wrath himself was sitting on his bed with his nose in a book. “We need to talk.”

“Do we now?” Satan drawled, not looking up from his book. That stupid encyclopedia must’ve been the most interesting thing in the god damn universe for Satan not to look up and see MC seething with a kind of pure rage only preteens we’re capable of. “Walking into people’s rooms without knocking is rude, you know. Let’s talk about that.”

“Honestly can you not be a smartass for a few seconds and just fucking look at me?!”

The sudden cursing got Satan to raise an eyebrow and look up. “What do you want, MC?”

“I want to know what the hell your problem with me is.” MC said, attempting to keep their voice as level and calm as possible. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you since I got here, and you’ve been nothing but a massive jerk!”

“Did you ever stop to think that I just don’t like you?”

“For what reason? What did I do?!”

“You look exactly like him!” Satan finally snapped. “Another Lucifer prancing around the house like they run the place!”

“So to you I’m just another Lucifer..?” MC asked, then let out a humourless laugh. “Are you… are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re pegging me as another Lucifer? You?”

Satan bristled, his eyes began to flash green, MC’s own eyes had begun to show a slight blue tint. “What are you implying?”

“I’m ‘implying’ that you, Satan, the one who was born of Lucifer’s wrath, calling me a copy of Lucifer is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing.” MC snarled, almost every fibre of their mind was screaming to transform and teach Satan a lesson, but they held back. “You hate Lucifer, anyone with two brain cells can see that, but you don’t see how stupid you’re being?!”

In an instant Satan yanked MC up by the front of their shirt and let out a low growl. “Do you want to repeat that, half-breed?”

“You’re being an idiot.” MC’s bratty, teasing tone couldn’t fully hide the boiling anger that was just beneath the surface. “You think you have the right to demand that people see you as different from Lucifer, yet you don’t grant me the same courtesy.”

With that, Satan’s demon form was out and less than a second later so was MC’s. The half-demon’s foot shot out and hit Satan right in the knee, the Avatar of Wrath staggered backwards slightly which allowed MC to back away until they felt their back hit a pile of books.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, daring the other to make a move, when the door to Satan’s room slammed open. There stood enemy number one, Lucifer.

“What the hell are both of you doing?” Lucifer hissed, his eyes flicking between Satan and MC.

“STAY OUT OF THIS!”

With Satan and MC’s combined shout, books began to shoot off the shelves and off the tops of piles. The books whizzed around the room, crashing into things and making the room even more of a mess.

“Both of you calm down!” Lucifer growled, both Satan and MC turned to shout at him again.

“JUST SHUT UP!”

Quick as lightning, a book shot towards MC, time seemed to slow as the spine of the book brushed past their nose as they stumbled out of its way. MC was out of the book’s path, but now it was speeding directly towards Lucifer.

Satan, most likely desiring to protect his book from Lucifer-germs, dove forward to grab the book while Lucifer prepared to catch it with an outstretched hand. The moment the two touched the book a blinding flash of light engulfed the entire room, leaving everything completely still.

Huh, well that happened. Argument paused, gather everyone.

Satan and Lucifer switched bodies… coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool-

Wait why are they staying in MC’s room?!

Lucifer (in Satan’s body) pulled the “you live under my roof you follow my rules” card, and MC got to work ordering a tent on Akuzon. Their tent, their rules.

“Satan! We have a bit of a problem with you agreeing to stay in my room with Lucifer!” “And what’s that problem, MC?” “Uh, I don’t know, THE DETECTIVE.”

Satan completely forgot that they were hiding a cat from Lucifer. Whoops!

When Lucifer stomped out of MC’s room later that day holding the cat the two knew they were screwed.

MC and Satan had to compromise their dignity and beg Lucifer to not take away their poor kitty. Lucifer just grumbled that he’d deal with this when he got back into his own body.

Body switching shenanigans were abound, Mammon and Satan were working together to make Lucifer look as ridiculous as possible without breaking any of the ground rules everyone laid out.

This all culminated in getting Mammon hung from the ceiling.

That night, MC tried to ignore Satan and Lucifer’s sleep talking, but it was a fruitless endeavour.

The only good part of that arrangement was the fact that Bean refused to snuggle up to Satan while he was in Lucifer’s body, and Lucifer didn’t want the cat near him while in Satan’s body, so MC got all the snuggle time with their favourite kitty.

While Bean’s intense purring was adorable, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out Lucifer and Satan’s rampant sleep talking.

“Fuck you Lucifer…” Satan in Lucifer’s body mumbled. “Gonna fuckin rip your head off…”

“Diavolo you can’t just get me another dog…” Lucifer in Satan’s body grumbled before letting out a snore.

MC rolled their eyes and looked at their cat. “Can you believe this shit, Bean?” They whispered.

Bean responded by pawing at MC’s face. What a big baby with such cute widdle eyes omigoodness what a baby baby-

Having enough of that tomfoolery, MC gently placed Bean down on their bed, and tiptoed out. They ended up doubling back to their room and grabbing one of their books.

Sneaking up to the attic a second time was much easier than the first attempt. It had been a week since their first encounter with Belphie and MC thought that he might want an update.

“So yeah… that’s what’s happening right now.”

Belphie appeared to be suppressing a laugh as he nodded and cleared his throat. “Mm… that’s… very unfortunate.”

“It’s not that funny.”

MC and Belphie stared at each other for a few seconds, before both of them broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Okay,” MC relented. “It’s kind of funny…”

“So, any updates on the plan?” Belphie asked, MC responded with a noncommittal shrug.

“Well, almost everyone has welcomed me in with pretty open arms, so I don’t think they’d question it if I asked them to come up here and get you out.”

“Almost everyone?” Belphie tilted his head as he leaned on the wall next to the door.

“Yeah… um…” MC quickly looked away and pursed their lips. “Satan… you know?”

“Ah,” Belphie’s usual lazy smile reappeared. “Satan’s going to be a tough one to win over. You know why, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucifer told you?”

“No actually,” MC mumbled. “Mammon, Beel, Levi, and Asmo did.”

Belphie’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, like MC had just offered him a present, but it was so quick MC barely took notice.

“I’m guessing he must be keeping a lot of stuff from you, huh?”

MC crossed their arms and shrugged. “Kinda… I guess. He kept you being in the attic a secret, he’s keeping the reason the Grimoire is in the Underground Tomb a secret…” MC frowned as all the strange little secrets began to come to light. Their father’s practically fanatical loyalty to Diavolo, the reason for the Celestial War, the reason no one talked about Lilith…

“Hm,” Belphie sighed. “It sucks that Lucifer doesn’t really tell you anything.”

“Mhm…” MC looked down at their feet, until they remembered the other reason they went up to visit the attic. “Oh! I brought you something!”

They held out the book to Belphie, carefully sliding it between the gaps in the door. “It’s a manga Levi recommended to me, I read it and it’s awesome! I thought you might be bored up here, so I brought it up for you to read.”

When Belphie took the book he stared at it like it was a completely foreign object, then his features melted into a smile. “Thank you, MC.”

“Right!” MC smiled proudly. “I’ll work on my magic, and on my relationship with Satan, then I’ll bust you out of here!”

Belphie chuckled and gave a thumbs up. “Good luck, kiddo. I believe in you.”

The seeds of discord were planted and the local attic cowboy was being one hell of a gardener. I need to stop typing take my phone away from me.

When MC left the attic, the first thing they heard was Mammon crying in the stairwell. It seemed that even the HOL’s ghosts were annoyed with all his whining.

“MC… help meeeeee…” “You’re hanging there for a reason, Mammon. I’m not going to disturb your punishment.” “MCCCCCCCCC!”

Don’t worry, MC did some sick maneuvers and cut Mammon down! Hooray!

“You now owe me a life debt.” “Wait what-” “We’re fixing my and Lucifer’s relationship with Satan.” “…kid if you smoked the weed in my room just tell me, I won’t be mad.”

No dear uncle Mammon, MC was not high on the devil’s lettuce, they were high on the power of family!

Time to fire up Doji Magi!

Obviously MC wasn’t the protagonist, everyone was trying to woo this random generic anime character (tm)

It wasn’t going good for anyone other than Levi. MC wasn’t even allowed to properly participate because Lucifer didn’t approve of his child getting involved in this degenerate anime stuff.

Too late Luci-goosey, your kid was a weeb long before they came to the Devildom

Of course, come graduation day, things got much more fun.

“THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!” MC screamed with delight as they swung a folding chair at an oncoming monster.

Mammon was having decidedly less fun as he dealt with his share of the monsters that had suddenly spawned into the game. “MC what the hell are ya talkin’ about?! This is crazy!”

“Can both of you shut up?” Lucifer said as he calmly snapped a monster’s neck. “Get to the roof, all of you.”

“This was very well foreshadowed I’m very impressed.” Satan said, Levi nodded enthusiastically.

“I know! All those hidden lore bits were so fun to find.”

“Wait, lore?” Mammon asked, he turned to MC. “What’d we miss while we were in fake detention?”

As the group continued to make their way up the steps to the roof, downing monsters left and right, MC turned to Satan and laughed. “You’re absolutely drenched right now.”

Satan smirked and flicked some of the monster goop onto MC. “You don’t look any better.”

“Ew!” MC stuck out their tongue and leaned to the left, looking behind Satan. “There’s a monster behind you by the way.”

“Ah,” Satan turned and punched the monster so hard in the forehead that its skull caved in. “Thank you, MC.”

The rooftop was filled with significantly less monsters than the rest of the school, and it uh… oh… hm… gamer instincts were tingling.

“Hey, this is a lot of negative space…” Levi picked a medpack up off the floor. “And an odd collection of healing items…”

“Where’d all the enemies go..?” Mammon asked tentatively.

“Better question,” MC piped up. “Where’s the music?”

Right after those words left MC’s lips, the door to the rooftop burst open, revealing a very familiar three headed doggo that MC and Lucifer so adored. It was Cerberus! Who looked positively murderous!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Mammon shrieked and hid behind Levi.

“Oh… that’s what all the dog imagery meant.” Satan said. “I thought it was odd that all the books in this school’s library had something to do with dogs.”

“Yeah! Aw, it all makes sense now!” Levi exclaimed.

“Cerberus,” Lucifer stepped forward and crossed his arms. “Sit.”

Cerberus, did not in fact, sit. He instead growled like a monster truck, and the acidic looking drool that was falling from his gaping jaws was an indicator that the giant pupper was quite hungry.

“Uh… bad dog?” MC offered. With that, Cerberus charged forward.

Mammon, Levi, and MC dodged to the left while Lucifer and Satan dove to the right.

“Shit! How are we supposed to fight Cerberus!?” Levi squeaked.

“Maybe we can- SATAN WATCH OUT!”

Cerberus had decided to ignore Lucifer and rush straight towards the fourth born, whose weapon of choice had just decided to break, and MC had a sneaking suspicion that Satan wouldn’t be able to punch all three of Cerberus’ heads at once.

“CERBERUS!” Lucifer shouted, causing everyone to freeze in place. “YOU LAY A HAND ON MY BROTHER AND I WILL [Hello, this is the narrator, Lucifer has asked that I censor what he said because he doesn’t want this to end up reflecting badly on Diavolo].”

It was thirty seconds into the very vulgar threat before Levi thought it would be a good idea to cover MC’s ears. Game-Cerberus whimpered and sat down, much to the utter amazement of everyone.

“Wow, I can curse in Latin now!” MC chirped.

“MC, you will forget what you heard.” Lucifer sighed.

“Of course, father!” MC said sweetly, they then leaned over to Levi. “Noooooot.”

Yay, the fam’s out of the game! L!MC and Satan both agreed that Cerberus would never in a thousand years listen to either of them and they should just depend on Lucifer to deal with their homicidal pupper.

Good news, in the days after the game, glasses related thefts went down 100%! Also, pranks relating to Lucifer’s coffee being turned into vinegar went down 83%!

Satan was chilling out :D… but Lucifer still had a speech to give and he was not about to trust the guy who filled the house with cats once.

It was time for a visit to the human world to go find a witch!

“Come on! I wanna see the horsies!” Mammon whined, hanging off of Lucifer in Satan’s body like a petulant little kid. The actual kid rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Mammon.” Lucifer said. “You want to see the horses so you can find the one you’re going to bet all our money on.”

“Of course I wanna see the horse I’m gonna bet on!So can we gooooooo?!”

Satan in Lucifer’s body finished off the last of his gelato and scoffed. “No, we’re not going to bet the house on the ponies, Mammon. We’re going to spend it on-”

The high pitched shriek that left MC caused everyone to whirl in their direction as the half demon jumped up and down and frantically pointed at a sign. They were clearly trying to sputter out some kind of explanation of what had them so excited, but no one could understand a word.

“MC, calm down-”

“It’s the musical!”

“What-”

“I’ve watched so many analysis videos on this! Father! Father! The music in this is supposed to be insane! I wanna see! I wanna see! You gotta let me see!” Every single word was punctuated by MC jumping up and down to the point that Lucifer was actually concerned their wings might pop out and they’d take flight.

Right in the middle of one of their jumps, Satan caught them and held them up in front of Lucifer. “Oh dearest brother of mine, your poor spawn wants to see the show- hang on it’s this one?” Satan did a double take at the sign for the show. “Now I actually want to see this.”

Lucifer finally shoved Mammon off of him and got a good look at the sign, at least two out of the three people he was travelling with had taste. “Yes, we can watch the show.”

“Yay!” MC clapped their hands, then noticed their feet weren’t touching the floor and turned to look at Satan. “Uh, Satan, you know you can put me down, right?”

“No, I don’t think I’m going to do that,” Satan said as the group began their walk towards the theatre. “It’s fun having you up as a half-human meat shield.”

“Hey!”

A distinct interest of MC’s had been discovered by the rest of the group that day when they started rambling and explaining the intricacies of musical theatre and opera to a very confused Mammon. Lucifer and Satan exchanged amused glances as MC continued to rapidly explain increasingly more confusing parts of music.

“So that’s the main difference between recitative and an aria,”

“Uh huh…”

“So technically Hugh Jackman is wrong in his explanation that Val Jean’s soliloquy in the movie adaptation of Les Miserables is recitative because it’s more of an aria because Val Jean is basically screaming about his emotions.”

“Hugh Jackman? Wolverine?”

“Yeah, Wolverine. Anyway back to leitmotifs-”

MC’s animated explanation continued all the way until the four were sat down in their seats and the show began. Mammon, of course, started fully weeping whenever anything sad happened. It was intermission when Lucifer and Satan finally had enough of it.

“Mammon…” Satan rubbed his temples and glared at the sobbing second born. “I swear, if you don’t stop crying, I’m going to strangle you…”

“Do it like the Phantom of the Opera.” MC offered.

“What?” Satan asked.

“Lasso noose.”

Mammon loudly blew his nose and shoved popcorn a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Musical theatre is so fuckin’ weird…”

MC 🤝(being a musical theatre nerd) 🤝 Lucifer

So after the play, they hopped on the train and MC and Mammon stuck their heads out the window to baa at some nearby sheep. The sheep responded, Mammon and MC can speak sheep confirmed.

Of course, Mammon went off and got involved in the murder of the very witch they were trying to find.

“Only one version of events is ever true!” Satan proclaimed to the three unfortunate bastards that were also involved with the crime.

Lucifer looked from the dead body that was covered in a tablecloth, to MC. He made an awkward attempt to cover their eyes, but even he seemed confused by the action.

“Father, it’s fine.” MC lightly moved their father’s hand away and pulled something out of their brand new bag. “Satan, here!”

MC held up a Sherlock Holmes cap. “It’ll make you look more like a detective.”

“Thank you, MC.” Satan put the cap on and turned back to the crime scene in front of him. “I’m going to solve the shit out of this.”

Hearing those words come out of Lucifer’s mouth even knowing that it was Satan saying them made Mammon forget he was being accused of murder and laugh like a maniac. This did not help MC and Satan’s “Mammon’s not crazy” case.

MC and Levi had spent a week playing Danganronpa nonstop, MC was ready for this!

After clearing Mammon’s name, the ghost of the witch showed up and told the gang to solve her murder and she’d undo the body switch curse.

“The killer is, YOU!” MC and Satan pointed at the culprit with flourish.

“You have no proof!”

“I’m afraid we do in fact have proof.” Satan smirked triumphantly. “The other two suspects were too far away or standing up,”

“And the knife entered the body at a downward angle,” MC continued. “The only person close enough to stab the victim like that is you.”

“So suspect number 3,” The two said together. “You’re the dumbass who did it!”

“Did they rehearse this?” Mammon leaned over to ask Lucifer.

“No idea.”

Yay! Murder solved! Time for the life lesson!

“If only I had trusted him to be my apprentice…” “oh wow what a convenient life lesson, right father? Right Satan? Trust?”

“…” “…”

Satan and Lucifer got poofed back to normal and everyone got to go home. Lucifer, like in canon, lets Satan give the speech because he learned that he needs to trust his brother more and have a little bit of faith.

The speech is a success, and life returns to normal, but better. Satan and MC build up their relationship and after a few weeks, it was like the stuff from the beginning of the year never happened.

The attic was Belphegor’s favourite nap spot, though at the moment, Belphie didn’t want to sleep in the attic. He had been stuck up there for the past four months, and the only form of social interaction he had was sporadic chats with Lucifer or the half-human.

He must have been going completely mental up there because he was actually wishing he was talking to the kid, at least the brat was nice to him…

“Belphie!”

The cheery voice of the little “angel” echoed down the hall, Belphie found himself smiling at the sound, at least before he realized what he was doing. MC appeared at the door, practically bouncing on their toes.

“Belphie Belphie Belphie!” MC waved their DDD in the air.

“MC MC MC.” Belphie repeated. He leaned against the wall next to the door and yawned. “Nice to see you again, any updates?”

MC flicked through their DDD and gave Belphie a thumbs up. “I’ve been practicing my magic and stuff, but that’s not what I’m up here for.” They held up their DDD to show Belphie a picture.

“Beel’s team won their game-thing!”

The picture showed Beel in his team uniform eating an entire pie with a medal around his neck, the rest of the brothers and MC were posed for the picture around him. “I have no clue how this sport is supposed to work or what the rules are, but apparently he won, so that’s good!”

Any traces of Belphie’s half decent mood vanished as he looked at the picture. Everyone seemed… really happy. Levi, Asmo, Satan, Mammon, Beel, all of them, looked happy. Happy without him…

“That’s… great, MC.”

—————

Belphegor truly didn’t think he’d pity the human he vowed to kill. MC was literally a mixture of everything he hated, humans, Lucifer, Diavolo’s stupid exchange program… but yet, Belphegor felt pity.

The way MC lit up when they talked about the fun things they had done with the brothers and the other exchange students, how they went up to the attic to keep him company when they had a spare bit of time… they did all of that without knowing that Belphegor despised them. It was honestly pitiful.

Though, the Avatar of Sloth’s feeling of detest had somehow lessened. The little half demon had managed to get their hooks in him. Unfortunately for them, it only made Belphegor’s blood boil more. His brothers adored that little brat, it was plain to see. The half human had won them all over, like half of MC’s ancestry wasn’t responsible for the death of their little sister.

Belphegor narrowed his eyes as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had been stuck up there long enough to have counted every knot in the wood, every nail and plank, and every spider that managed to crawl through the cracks. The familiar feeling of guilt began to twist in his stomach. His sister died because Beel chose to save him. He should have been more careful… he shouldn’t have taken her to the human world…

‘It’s their fault.’ Belphie tried to push any and all thoughts other than that out of his head. ‘That human killed her. If they had never met she wouldn’t have died.’

Repeating that over and over did not expel the roiling feeling of guilt that crawled its way up Belphie’s spine and constricted his ribs.

“I hate you…” Belphie growled. MC was the reason for all this, weren’t they? They were the reason he wasn’t with his family, they were the reason they could be happy without him, yet even repeating his declaration of hatred like a mantra didn’t make the guilt go away. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!”

A sudden sharp yank on Belphie’s ear made him lurch upwards and look around the room. Nothing.

It was a childish gesture, wasn’t it? A sharp pull to his ear, a habit he knew all too well belonged to…

It belonged to…

…

Belphegor needed to sleep.

———————

Sup my witches, bitches, and bastards, we’re reaching the exciting part :D the part you angst hungry sickos (affectionate) are waiting for! ✨ lesson 16 ✨ next time, we’re doing the buildup, then after that, ANGST COUNTRY BABY!

Reblogs are very appreciated!

[strangestcase]

loving how Henry jekyll is an unreliable narrator but for like a variety of reasons.

like half of the stuff he knows he's omitting to preserve his privacy and dignity, obv, the other half he tells Gabriel is glaringly full of both his own personal bias and his need to distance himself from his own mistakes (including murder), but also some parts he might not even remember 100% crystal clear because Dissociation Is A Thing, and also he was high on cocaine most of the time, and also he didn't want to straight up say "I saw the opportunity to jump over the edge and did it, because I've got an impulse control problem and it's in my nature to fuck up" to Gabriel's face.

he knows he's done bad things and tells us so. he admits he was too arrogant and that believing he had a moral high ground even though he was Secretly An Asshole was a shitty thing to do but what can you do about it? it's now in the past and it can't be changed. he knows he's gone off the deep end and doesn't like the prospect of living guilt-free anymore if that means losing his entire personality to a fabricated persona. he SAYS THAT. he knows he can be a jerk sometimes and Gabriel honestly must know Henry can be a jerk sometimes but I guess you just... can't go ahead and tell him you indulged in it, no matter how much you regret it now.

even if that was easy it still hurts to admit you CAN be a terrible person sometimes and in Henry's case he's... literally drugged himself into a terrible person. Henry manages to write down that he killed some guy and enjoyed it and is sickened by the fact he FELT like that even if it was in a heavily altered mental state. like... do I really have the potential to be a murderer? was I really that close to hurting more people for my own pleasure? try admitting THAT.

I guess that's why he also switches to a third person. it's easier to lie to both Gabriel and himself and say he's a victim to his brain, which, fair enough, he IS, but it's not like it's an external force. it must have started some way. and ding ding ding! Henry created THAT in the first place and indulged in THAT in the first place and now is reaping the consequences. as much as it's easy to go "ha, told you so!" (because really? do all mad scientists believe they're exempt from consequences? actually I know the answer to that question and it's "yes") he's still suffering because of it

it's just so much easier to lie to yourself and everyone else. he's spent the whole book- no, his whole LIFE doing that, to stay safe, to stay loved, to stay alive. I guess that now he does so to stay sane but I doubt that's gonna help- by the end of his narration he explicitly states he's slipping rapidly, dissociating to hell and back, and is feeling his sense of self fade away while he's sleep deprived, physically weak, and haunted and tormented by both his own bad choices and himself of all people.

he's only not a reliable narrator because he doesn't let himself be. and even though a lot of the things Henry says aren't necessarily all that happened, it's the story from his perspective the one that explains it all. we're meant to take what he says at face value only because he's the only person who knows all what happened, and he's being as truthful as he needs to be. yet he's still choosing how he tells it.

this guy isn't even half a villain he's just a pile of let's say interesting choices in a trench coat pretending to be human and bitterly admitting that their attempt at transcendence not only failed spectacularly but that they enjoyed at least half of the descent into madness and now just want to get off mr bones wild ride but is too late to do so.

that's why I like him so much as a character. sometimes you go "OH YOU FUCKING BASTARD IM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU YOU LITTLE LYING BASTARD!" but most of the time it's "shit man... that must suck... shit..."

catch me here writing an essay psychoanalyzing a dead fictional man.

anyway. Henry Jekyll needs so much therapy and if he had gone to therapy BEFORE this entire shitshow of bad choices had even started nothing would have happened. Henry Jekyll the normal sane scientist with normal and sane ideas. the end.

[monstersandmaw]

Tell us more about your inquisitor!! I would love to hear about him(?) and Dorian

Ok, here's the second of the two asks I got about Ciúin thank you thank you thank you (His name is pronounced like 'queue-inn'). I've talked about him a fair bit before, but I'll do a new post now for the sheer, self-indulgent fun of it! Thank you.

He, like Lein, means a huge amount to me for all sorts of reasons not really related to the game itself, and he's one of the few characters of mine who really does live rent free in my head all the time. His story has had a few versions over the years, but here's my latest 'canon' version, as of 2021.

(I've also written for him before, and if you want a sfw angst-fluff-fest story with him and Dorian, you can read that here on my AO3) Also the immeasurably talented @hanatsuki89 drew him for me and you can find that here Alright, here he is. For tonight's other post with more photos, see this one.

And a close up (please ignore the horrible Skyhold pyjamas):

Ciúin is quiet, reserved, and a bit gruff, but he has an affectionate heart and will laugh freely around people he feels close to. Outside of the limitations of the game's hair options, he has very long, black hair that falls almost to his waist, and no side-shave.

He's actually a quarter Tevinter, with his grandfather being a low-ranking (now-disgraced) Tevinter magister, who fell in love with an elven slave and risked everything to free her instead of selling her when he fell on hard times in the Magisterium, and had to sell almost everything. She was taken in by Clan Lavellan, and her son was born a few months later. Ciúin tends to keep his heritage quiet on the whole, given the distrust in the South of Tevinter in general.

His half-elven father died when Ciúin was quite young, and he was sort of raised by everybody and nobody in the clan after that. He helped out where it was needed most, and slept alone near the halla most nights. He’s a spectacularly good rider and loved caring for the halla. His Red Hart mount with the Inquisition is called Conker.

He was an apprentice with the Clan's blacksmith (hence choosing June’s vallaslin, the Dalish god of craftsmen) before his magic developed quite late at the age of 14, at which point he reluctantly began to train with the Keeper in his spare time so that he didn’t lose control of his magic and hurt someone. He found he had to become her First when he was 19, since they had no other mage and he was pretty talented.

As is the case for many Dalish clans, his clan was attacked a fair bit by opportunistic humans, which made him wary of them, but they continued to trade and interact anyway. Unless his life depends on it, he rarely uses his magic (unlike Dorian, who will happily use it for everything), preferring to do things by hand. Vivienne finds this provincial and endearing, and Dorian is somewhat confused, but they can both see that Ciúin’s not going to change his ways…

He's panromantic and demisexual, and before he unwittingly falls for Dorian, he's only ever had one relationship.

More miscellaneous facts include:

His vallaslin (tattoos) go all the way down the centre of his chest, branching out towards his shoulders, and down over his hip bones as well. He also has a similar design to the one at the centre of his forehead going right up his spine, from the small of his back into his hairline. He will freely admit that the most painful bit to have done was his lip and throat.

Prefers savoury to sweet, and doesn't like fish

Hates ale and beer but enjoys liquors like brandy, elven fruit spirits, whisky, etc. He's a truly miserable drunk though, so it's best if he sticks to his limits.

Gets on really well with Bull and the Chargers, and ships Scout Harding and Professor Kenric really hard.

He's very, very unapologetically Elven about a lot of things, especially about his beliefs/religion, though respects people with different beliefs. For example, he admires that Dorian considers himself Andrastian while simultaneously loathing the hypocrisy of the Chantry and all it stands for.

Ciúin's 28 at the start of Inquisition

He's surprisingly nervous of mabari (who adore him, especially the one Cullen acquires in Trespasser), but he kind of wants to adopt one anyway

At Skyhold, he helps Blackwall with his carpentry projects - making June puzzles for the children of Skyhold - when he gets (or needs) a moment to himself. He can also be found in the forge quite a bit, making new weapons and armour for his friends in the Inquisition.

Can't cook. Don't ask him to. You'll get charred sludge.

Any more questions, please feel free to ask. I will literally talk about him (and Lein) until I keel over.

I'm also probably going to do some writing based on my gameplay, so if that's of interest (it'll be a 'Lavellan x Dorian' story with lots of plot and ambient description because it's me), please also feel free to let me know. If not, thank you for tolerating this long post about my Dalish elf.

^him scowl.

Also boop the halla snoot for good luck if you made it to the end of this post :)

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Littleshit!Katara and tired!Aang

Words: 1,510

ao3

*********************

It had been four weeks and two days since she last saw those bold blue arrows, and Katara couldn’t have sprinted any faster if she was born an airbender.

She ambushed him with the weight and consuming entanglement of a thrown bola. Staggering, Aang squealed and he caught her like she was a wolf aiming to rip out his throat. It took him a handful of seconds to recognize her. “What—? Katara!” he yelled, in a tone that bordered on a whine.

Katara laughed through her assault, hugging his neck and tugging him down so she could press her brow to his. “Hello, sweetie~”

“Wait—Wait, Katara.” Aang squirmed and might have wiggled away if she was anyone else. “I haven’t changed my clothes in days.” He ducked her kisses and tried to tug her hands from his cheeks. He pouted in the glimpses of freedom that he stole, revealing the dusted shadow of how long it had been since he last shaved his face. “What are you doing here? You—You promised me that I would meet you at—stop that—at the Southern Water Tribe.”

He was worse than Momo fighting bathtime. “Stop being difficult and let me love you.”

“I have—Kataraaaa…” He indulged in her offensive, allowing her to turn him to pieces. He laughed, exhausted, and ducked to protect his side, foreseeing a tickle attempt that she hoped would crumble him to the ground. “I’m filthy. And I have paperwork and you promised—”

“Would it surprise you to know that I don’t care?” She never felt more grounded than when she held him, firm as a mountain and as light-footed as the silver leopards that lived in it. He smelled like sweat and smoke and snow, and when she kissed him, she tasted home and all the things she had almost forgotten since memories could never do his presence justice. “You might be their Avatar, but you are my Aang. Deal with it.”

He put up his struggle for far longer than she was used to, but he must have been as alien to her presence as she was to his. Always living in the nightmare that he might burn her again. The idiot. Her idiot, but still. Katara pulled him into the hug he was desperate for, despite how he first flinched. He melted faster than chips of chocolate in a warmed pan, oozing over her in a pile of grumbling robes and returned touches.

He kissed her hair and held there for a suspiciously long minute before gently (attempting) peeling her away. “You promised me the Southern Tribe,” he said, his voice grated like he had been screaming. “You promised.”

“And now I’m here. Deal with it.”

Aang smiled, though it was a small and guarded expression, and Katara’s heart threatened to burst from her chest at the glimpse of her favorite sunrise. “No—Noooo,” he groaned, failing spectacularly to untangle them when she kissed him again. “Go away.” Aang turned and used his shoulder to fend off her cooing advances. “Go away and take your betrayal kisses with you.”

Katara did nothing of the sort. She was a persistence predator, and she would make sure he wouldn’t forget it. “Come on , sweetie~” she cooed, threatening to climb over him.

“Noo.”

“Yeeees.”

“Noooooooooo.”

“Yeeeeeeees.” Katara giggled like a madwoman and tugged him down to her level. He began a half-circle of escape, but she hooked her ankle around his waist, using his fluid momentum to swing herself onto his front. She held him with her arms and legs, like moss clinging to a tree.

All these years, and he still had so much to learn.

“You—” His face had nowhere to hide, but she gave him credit for trying. “You are ridiculous.”

“Mhm.” She zeroed in on a proper kiss, but he evaded by kissing her cheeks instead. Katara giggled and preened from the challenge. “Tell me more how much you love me.”

“Yuck.” Sokka hopped off Appa’s head and gave the reunited to-be-weds a wide berth. “Major oogies. Have some self-control, woman.”

Katara, from her arms wrapped around Aang’s neck, flipped her brother a pair of birds. She had the Avatar right where she wanted him, and she laughed against his lips when she finally caught him.

When she smiled so he could feel it, Aang stiffened a bit, which was strange, and Katara kissed him a bit slower to investigate his reaction.

She pulled back and looked down at him. His cheek was bruised, and his neck was oddly red. Both wounds were old and almost healed over, but she probed them like they were still new. Her stomach flipped. Tightening her legs around his waist, she pried one of his arms, holding her up, free so she could examine his wrist. The flesh just below his hand was even more red than his neck, scabbed over on the knobs of bone and then bruised almost half-way down his forearm.

“I’m fine,” he said, preemptively, trying to distract her with a kiss. He tried to pull his wrist away, but Katara gave him no freedom. She was taller than him in her position, and her shadow nearly eclipsed his face from the bleeding sunset just behind her.

She searched his face. “What happened?”

Aang hesitated. His hand flexed in her grip, convincing her to let him hold her hand. “Ran into some trouble on the way home.”

“You were captured.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” She held up his hand. “You call this ‘just a little bit’?”

“It could have been worse,” he shyly offered. “It was only a few days.”

Her grip tightened. “Days?”

Aang’s smile was more of an apology than a reassurance. “I’m fine. See?” He held her hand to his face. “I’m home. All in one piece.”

Katara shook her head. She scowled, but not hot enough to burn him. She moved her gaze to his hand, where she was petting it with her thumb. The blue of his tattoos was oddly red and swollen. She pulled it close and kissed the arrow, trying to keep her heavy heart to herself.

Aang adjusted her a bit closer and moved his hand to her face. She was as heavy and binding as the iron net that had captured him, but he looked at her with a shy safety that kissed her almost as gently.

“What about me?” Sokka asked, in the tone that big brothers used when they tried to cheer up their siblings. “I was captured, too.”

Zuko handed him a sleeping roll before joining him on the ground. “You were caught as a fake informant to break him out from the inside. Not the same.”

“Everyone’s a critic.”

Katara shook her head, letting anything outside of Aang’s breathing turn to white noise.

Aang ducked into her vision. “I’m fine. Really, I am.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. Her attention was entirely caught on investigating the webbed veils of skin between his fingers. A fresh cut tore the flesh between the first two digits, but he had had it for so long—away from her—that it was almost scarred over. “…You always say that.”

“Have I ever been wrong?” He punctuated himself with a soft scratch up her back. She hated that it worked, but she invited him to do it again, melting her with the ease of beeswax held to a candle’s flame.

“You might dance around the truth well enough to fool them,” she nodded to her brother, bickering with the Firelord, “but you’re not nearly as good of a liar as you think you are.”

Aang hesitated again. He looked away, at something to his left, and might have curled up if she wasn’t holding him so bodily. “I guess…I could use a healing session.” Katara squirmed, telling him to allow her down, but Aang held her tightly and grunted with his first step towards their temple. “You can take care of me all you want in a minute, okay?”

“Aang—” Katara would have argued if Aang had the energy to keep up with it, but he was motivated by momentum and wouldn’t stop for a few pleading words. She tried not to show just how happy she was to feel the thumps of his familiar stride, like riding on the rolling shoulders of the snowy leopards—silver, like his eyes—that he often reminded her of.

She tucked her face against his neck. Stubble from his jaw scratched her temple. He smelled like burnt ozone and coal, but there wasn’t a trace of blood. She held his neck a little tighter and shifted closer, belting her legs around his waist, so flush to him that he was sure to feel the hummingbird that had once been her heart.

There was only one person who wanted to hurt him and who never left any scars.

She tried not to think about it.

She hugged him tighter, gently kissing the necklace of black and blue that his robes couldn’t hide. “…I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“You always say that.”

He said it as a joke, but Katara flinched from how the words burned her. “You’re ridiculous.”

Aang laughed. It was a beautiful sound. A tired sound. A little scared, too. “Mhm.” He held her like he had the strength to hug her, even though she had to hold herself up. “Tell me more how much you love me.”

[starboundanon]

Herbie I started grad school this week and it was rough. May we please have soft daddy Din head cannons? I just want Luke to be cared for and also kept in a soft sweet head space

Awww, Anon. I'm proud of you. Grad school is really tough, but keep your head up. It gets better.

One order of soft Daddy Din, coming right up.

Luke, selfless, chaotic, heroic little martyr that he is, has a tendency to take spectacularly poor care of himself for a magic space monk. He meditates to release stress and unpleasant thoughts into the Force, but aside from his yearly trip to visit his sister so Leia can pamper him a little like he needs, he really doesn't get the attention that he deserves.

Din is very similar — but fortunately for them both, doting on others is Din's self-care. It's the calming, nourishing, self-indulgent activity he can partake in every single day that really recharges his batteries and soothes his soul. Every time he feels Luke melt beneath his firm, massaging hands, or sigh blissfully into a steaming mug of chocolate, it revitalizes him.

Luke has trouble accepting that kind of genuine selflessness from others, but he can also feel through the Force that Din needs this, and sometimes, that's all it's about. Sometimes, Luke is okay, and so he lets Din cling to him like he's a teddy bear, and rub his shoulders and make him dinner, and wash his hair and moisturize his skin, and hold him as they both fall asleep.

Sometimes, the sweetness of it is too much. The honeyed words adoringly whispered in the negligible spaces between their mouths as they lie chest to chest bring him to tears. Din's hands, broad and warm and rough, caressing every inch of his skin like it's a joy just to touch him twists that lonely knife in his soul. The way Din needs to hold him, sometimes, like Luke is a precious thing, something the other man can't even bear the thought of losing, breaks his heart.

And sometimes, it's exactly what he needs. Sometimes he's able to drift off into calm warm safe because Din is there, curled around him, quietly telling him about his day as he plays with his hair and rubs his back. Sometimes he reaches that comfortable, murky headspace because Din has shushed him, clean and fed, wrapped in softness while he cradles him to sleep, the heat of his body like a furnace. Sometimes he's so far from the dark side, from the grimmest cruelty the galaxy could conjure up, because Din has scooped him up and is rocking him in his arms, humming an old Mando'a lullaby Luke doesn't understand, punctuated with sweet promises of, "You're all right. You're safe. I'm here. Daddy's here, little one."

And it's exactly what they both need.

[kamoniwa]

 ⟼ a little madness

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: yokai!kuroo/demon!akaashi/human!reader/werewolf!semi

⇢ au: college!au

⇢ summary: you, your friends, and some friends of your friends all get tricked by one tendou satori into visiting an abandoned amusement park for halloween. it turns out it isn’t ghosts you need to worry about, though.

⇥  kinktober masterlist

⇢ warnings: gangbang, noncon to consensual, lots of reluctance, mind break if you squint?, technical temperature play, unprotected sex, creampie, the boys are real gentle in breaking you down

⇢ word count: 11,695

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: don’t really think noncon is my forte but practice makes perfect. is the pairing self-indulgent? fat yes. does this fic make total sense? not really sure. did i have fun writing it? hell yeah. also big thank you to @ishuzoku​ for helping me come up with the flyer bc my og id was garbage lmao.

Furrowing your brows, you looked at Tendo with a mix of exasperation and unadulterated dismay.

“An abandoned amusement park. On Halloween?” Kaori asked before you could, eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. “You cannot be serious, Tendo.”

If he was put off by your reactions, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was probably relishing in it, and said, “Yes, yes I am. It’ll be fun. Come on, do you really just wanna get drunk at a boring house party on Halloween?”

You snorted at that, stirring your coffee as you said, “As opposed to getting murdered at an amusement park? That’s like, straight out of a horror movie, Tendo.”

“You guys are so boring,” he whined, slumping forward across the table. Shirabu grumbled under his breath, glaring at Tendo as he nudged his drink closer to Shirabu’s textbook. “Look, it’ll be so cool! Exploring all the abandoned funhouses and imagine how freaky the haunted houses will be! Just think about it, okay?”

The looks everyone exchanged said they had and had already made up their minds, but you nodded anyway, if for no other reason than to appease him.

A moment later, your alarm went off and you bid them goodbye, walking towards the door with Shirabu for your next lecture. You were sure as shit not going to an abandoned anything this weekend.

Except somehow, against all odds, you were piled up in the back of Konoha’s car, crammed beside someone who had been introduced to you as Akaashi Keiji. He was a friend of Bokuto’s and Konoha’s and, upon hearing about your adventure, asked if he could tag along. If you had to peg him, he was more the librarian type than a ghost hunter type-- soft spoken and well mannered with pretty blue eyes that closed slightly when he smiled.

In the front seat were Konoha-- driving-- and Yachi, currently fighting with the radio and Konoha’s phone. 

In the car behind you was someone named Kuroo-- also a friend of Bokuto and Akaashi-- Kaori, Goshiki, and Semi-- a friend of Shirabu, Goshiki, and Tendo. Kuroo was almost ecstatic to be going, but Semi had seemed like he would rather be doing anything else as he climbed into the passenger seat of Kuroo’s car.

The car in front contained Tendo, Bokuto, Yukie, and-- god bless him-- Shirabu. You were sure he was losing his mind as Tendo guided him towards the location of the amusement park. The details on how exactly this had come about were lost on you, but you vaguely recalled a drunken bet made two nights ago and a video that Tendo refused to share properly, but assured you was proof that the group had agreed to the terms of said bet and then lost. Spectacularly. Supposedly.

“So, how did you meet everyone?” Akaashi asked, turning to look at you. The scenery outside was turning quickly from civilization to wilderness, the trees growing thicker the further you drove until you couldn’t tell one trunk from the next. 

Humming, you rested your chin in your hand, bracing your elbow on the door. This was the worst part of meeting someone new during a trip-- tedious small talk. But you had to start somewhere, so you said, “I met Kaori in one of our classes and ‘Toka-- er, Yachi--” The girl turned around at the sound of her name and waved. “-- is my roommate. They kind of introduced me to everyone else.”

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how they had become your core group of friends. From loud and boisterous Bokuto to sullen and taciturn Shirabu, you adored all of them, but you had had your own group of friends before meeting them. Most of those old friends had faded from sight as you found yourself absorbed in your new ones and, while a part of you felt bad, it was just a part of life.

“What about you?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “How do you know them?”

Konoha snickered from the front seat and Akaashi cut him a glare before turning back to you. “I’ve been friends with Konoha, Bo, and Tetsuro since highschool. Kaori and Yukie were our managers,” he said.

Konoha made a turn onto a road who’s name sign had long since fallen off the rusty pole, and you wondered just how far out you had traveled. It didn’t feel like it had been long since you left, but you recognized nothing around you and there was no sign of life. 

“So, everyone but ‘Toka and I were friends in highschool, huh?” You chuckled. “What are the odds?”

Akaashi laughed with you, fiddling with his fingers as he turned back to look out his window. 

The car was now filled with the sound of music, overtaking the silence that fell between the four of you. Konoha was focused on driving and you knew Yachi was more than a little nervous-- you had almost expected her to back out and accept whatever payback Tendo had planned for it afterwards.

“Do any of you guys know anything about this place?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on Yachi’s seat. Through the windshield, you could see Tendo’s shaved head and Bokuto’s spiky locks in the backseat, and worried for poor Shirabu’s sanity. “How did Tendo even know this place existed?”

“It’s an old legend,” Akaashi spoke up softly. 

Both you and Yachi turned to look at him, the latter’s breath hitching because everyone knew when those words were said, the story was going to be unpleasant.

Konoha cursed as he hit a pothole, muttering Tendo’s name under his breath as he righted the car between the faded lane lines, and Akaashi smiled at that before looking back to you.

“I doubt most people have heard of it,” he began, popping his knuckles one at a time. “It’s more of a local thing, really.”

“Well then how do you know about it?” you asked curiously, quirking a brow. You knew Bokuto grew up in Tokyo, which meant Akaashi had as well, and you were well outside of the city limits.

Akaashi smiled, tipping his head to the side and for the first time there was something other than soft indifference in it. “I enjoy these types of places and legends. It’s a hobby, you might say. This particular amusement park was meant to be scary in nature and didn’t stay open for long due to unexplained deaths and disappearances.”

Yachi squeaked, and you cast her a glance before resting your hand on her shoulder. This was probably not the best story for someone as easily scared as she was, but it was too late now, and you knew there was curiosity beneath the fear.

“That sounds way too vague,” you said, lips curling up at the corners. “That’s what everyone says about places like this. It’s not scary.”

Your skepticism was met with laughter and he said, “True. The police at the time pinned the problems on faulty attractions or poor background checks, saying there must have been a serial killer hired without anyone realizing. Sounds to me like they just couldn’t figure out what was causing it.”

You rolled your eyes, nodding along. If the park was as old as Tendo said, it could really have been faulty attractions, but you weren’t buying the serial killer story. It sounded too far-fetched compared to being crushed by an unstable support beam. 

Akaashi continued, voice dropping in what might have been a scary attempt at atmosphere if the sun wasn’t framing his pretty features in a golden glow behind him. “The locals all said that the place was haunted, too many deaths had built up negative energy, trapping the spirits of those killed there. Unable to escape, they grew angry and the deaths continued until authorities labeled the park unsafe and banned any more visitors. And then--”

“What the hell?” Konoha cut him off, hitting the brakes a little harder than necessary.

Akaashi’s seat belt locked and he grunted, rubbing at the new red mark on his neck as he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Dunno,” Konoha replied, putting the car in park. “Sorry about that. Shirabu is getting out of the car.”

The car behind you pulled up as you were getting out, eyes wide as you watched Tendo lay a map out on the trunk of Shirabu’s car.

“We’re lost,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

A tall figure blocked out the sun in front of you and you squinted up into the face of Kuroo. He was giving you a catlike grin, ruffling his messy rooster hair as he said, “Sure seems that way, princess. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I’ll be surprised if we even find it.” He guided you over to the car where the others were gathered, snickering at the look of surprise on your face. “What?”

“You know about this place too?” you asked, glancing at Akaashi on the other side of the car. He cast you a small, closed eyed smile. “Akaashi was telling us about it in the car.”

Kuroo chuckled, raising a brow at his friend. “Yeah, being friends with Akaashi has its share of hazards.”

“Look, I’m pretty sure we’re here,” Tendo said, interrupting your conversation. He was pointing to a small line that looked just like any other on the map, aside from the major roadways and cities. If he was right, you were a decent ways out of the city and your watch read 1:01pm. “If we just follow this road and then this one, it’ll lead us straight past the village and to the park.”

Shirabu looked skeptical, spinning the map around to look at it as well. He wasn’t exactly wrong but how could he really tell? All the smaller roads looked the same and they couldn’t even confirm the name of the road because there was no sign. It had also been ages since they last saw a house or even another car, so asking anyone was out of the question too.

“This is stupid,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. No one besides Tendo really wanted to be there-- he ignored the fact that Kuroo was just as excited as his weirdo friend to be going and that Akaashi had jumped at the opportunity as well-- and it would be so much easier to just turn around and go to Hinata’s party. “We should just go home before we get lost.”

Tendo frowned at that, sharing a look with Kuroo before saying, “We aren’t lost*. It’s not much further now. Just trust me.”

The others were all inclined to agree with Shirabu, you included, but arguing with Tendo was like arguing with a brick wall-- pointless. He had already tricked you into agreeing to this endeavor and at this point backing out would be both a waste of time and gas. Shirabu was too smart to get lost anyway but, if you were lucky, Tendo was wrong and you wouldn’t be able to find the place at all.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to find it?” Yachi asked once you were safely back in the car. 

Akaashi hummed beside you, but you said, “God I hope not. I was looking forward to Hinata’s party and if we get back quick enough we might still make it.”

Konoha looked at you in the rearview, eyes crinkled as he snickered. “What, are you scared, _____? Afraid the ghosts are gonna get ya?”

Scoffing, you dug through your bag for your phone. A check an hour ago had revealed one bar, but now the words ‘No Service’ blazed across the service banner. “No, I’m not scared. There are just a thousand better things to be doing that than breaking my neck on rusty amusement park rides.”

“Sounds like cowardice to me,” he answered, laughing at you through the mirror. 

Sticking your tongue out at him, you turned back to the window, sighing as the scenery passed by in a blur. Konoha and Akaashi talked a lot about volleyball, Yachi pitching in occasionally. You knew she had managed her highschool volleyball team and knew everyone else in the group to some degree, but most everything sports related went over your head. 

Still, Akaashi made some effort to get to know you, asking about highschool and what classes you were taking. You told him about your major and asked what his was, finding out he was a literature major and constantly busy, explaining why you had never met him before. He, Kuroo, and Semi were the busiest out of all their friends, often skipping out on get togethers in order to study, work, or-- in Semi’s case-- practice with his band.

A little while later, while Yachi and Konoha were having a heated discussion about their favorite subjects, you caught the first glimpse of something besides trees. Turning to look out the windshield, you saw brake lights already lighting up and the car began to slow.

“Well, we found the village, at least,” Tendo said, reading the faded sign displaying the name of the town. “I didn’t expect it to be abandoned too, though.”

Everyone was gathered in the middle of the road, looking down the mainstreet of the village. Windows were busted out and boarded up, paint faded on rotten clapboards, and roofs missing tiles or riddled with holes. The street was littered with potholes and the whole town had an eerie sense of unnatural quiet. Everyone shifted on their heels, slowly making their way back towards the cars without a word and piling in. 

Even Tendo looked unnerved.

The town disappeared behind you but in the distance you could see the towering track of a roller coaster above the treeline. Even from so far away you could see that the paint was faded off of it, the sun filtering through clouds and casting the whole area in shades of grey. To you, it seemed like the forest was darker, the trees packed more closely together, and your heart began to thump in your chest.

“You okay?” Akaashi’s gentle voice asked in your ear. His hand landed on your shoulder, colder than expected, and you shivered underneath his touch. “You look like you’ve already seen a ghost.”

You nodded, looking over to find him giving you a look of amused concern, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just nervous. That town was creepy as hell and it freaked me out a little.”

“Me too!” Yachi squeaked from the front seat, turning around to give you a pleading look. “Don’t you dare leave me, _____.”

Laughter filled the car then and you patted Yachi on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ‘Toka.”

The towering sign for the park appeared up ahead and the car fell silent all over again as brake lights lit up again. Broken glass and gravel littered the parking lot, which was smaller than expected for how big the park looked. 

Everyone seemed to hesitate on getting out of the cars. Tendo was the first, followed by Kuroo, and then Akaashi. Like it was a signal, the rest of you followed, Yachi clinging onto your hand and Kuroo and Akaashi seeming to stand behind you protectively, close enough that you could feel warmth radiating off them.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Goshiki asked, eyeing the ticket booth with disdain. The paint on it, like everything else, was faded, the wood rotten and the window and door busted out. The latter creaked on its hinges, filling the still air with an unsettling noise that mixed with the faint sounds of creaking metal and leaves fluttering in the wind.

Everyone shuffled back towards the cars a little at his question, but Tendo took a step forward, resting his hand on the turnstile. “Since we’re actually here, may as well take a look around.”

Without another moment of hesitation, he hopped over it, peering around with an unusually quiet interest. It was the first time since you had met Tendo that he had nothing to say, his already pale face seemingly devoid of color, making his vibrant, sleepy eyes pop out even more.

Groaning, you, Shirabu, and Goshiki stepped forward, dragging Yachi with you as you climbed over the turnstile as well. You couldn’t just let Tendo wander off into the dangerous park alone. The others followed suit, muffled whispers and conversations floating through the air as they spread out in the area. 

The forest had started taking back over through the concrete, weeds and grass sprouting up through the cracks and pushing the cobblestones up and out of place. Vines of ivy and moss hung from the powerpoles, vendor booths, and some attractions further back, swaying in the gentle breeze. The buildings were dark inside, but through the gloom you could make out mannequins and shelves devoid of merchandise.

The bell dinged on the first one Tendo pushed open-- a souvenir shop. It was empty except for dust and garbage, as were the next few you entered.

Slowly but surely the group made their way further into the park, Yachi clinging onto you the whole time. Akaashi and Kuroo were right behind the two of you, Shirabu and Semi in front, forming a kind of guard while Tendo and Bokuto led the way. Kaori clung to Goshiki, who looked like he was putting on a brave front despite his pink cheeks and the nervousness in his eyes.

For all his grumbling, Shirabu looked interested as he eyed all the buildings and machinery. It was quiet, devoid even of the sound of birdsong or humming bugs, and it unsettled you.

“Oh look, it’s the pirate ship ride!” Bokuto yelled suddenly, breaking the deathly silence.

Everyone jumped, Shirabu hissing at him to shut up while Yukie shrieked, latching onto him. Bokuto had the decency to look abashed but still steered the group towards the derelict platform, testing his weight on the creaky metal stairs on his way up.

The deck of the ship was littered with leaves and dust, the seats worn down and showing stuffing and springs after however many years left in the element. There were signs of rust on the metal and the whole thing shifted slightly to emit a creak.

“Um, Bo, I don’t think that’s safe,” Kuroo called out, grabbing your arm to stop you from following up behind him. 

Tendo and Goshiki were up beside him, examining the boat itself and, before anyone knew it, the former had hopped into it.

“Tendo!” Shirabu called, a trace of panic in his voice. His fingers were wrapped around the railing, paint flakes coming away under his touch hand as he prepared to spring up the stairs, but everyone’s eyes were locked on Tendo’s precarious creep down the middle aisle. “Get out of there before you get hurt, idiot!”

“It’s fine, Shirabu,” he called, now standing at the bow. “It’s kinda cool actually. I can see more of the park from here.”

Bokuto landed with a thump a moment later, a louder creak ringing out than when lanky Tendo had landed, and everyone took a collective breath and held it. 

But as before, it held, and he joined Tendo up by the bow.

“Wow, he’s right!” he called, holding his hand above his eyes like a visor and peering out over the park. It was certainly bigger than he imagined for being in the middle of nowhere. “There’s a house over that way!”

“Probably the haunted house,” Tendo said, straining to see what Bokuto was looking at. In the distance were two stilted, twisted steeples painted in different hues. One was flamboyant and bright, the other dark and dreary, even compared to the state of disrepair of the rest of the park. “I see a funhouse too, I think. Looks pretty freaky. Wanna check ‘em out?”

“Hell yeah,” Bokuto shouted, whipping around to look at the rest of you.

Shirabu looked ready to blow a gasket, and Yachi looked ready to faint, but everyone else looked intrigued. Even you couldn’t help but be a little curious about it, having free range to explore the most interesting rides in the park. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to be able to see what they were like without restraint? 

The sun was just beginning to fade behind the treeline, turning the clouds a thin shade of orange, but the lure of seeing something interesting had dissolved any real fear.

The two men met Goshiki on the platform and made their way back down to the rest of the group, eyes shining bright with the promise of adventure.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad!” Tendo said as if the stunt he just pulled hadn’t taken years off all your lives. Jumping haphazardly onto a decade old, rusted out death trap attraction at an abandoned amusement park hours from the nearest hospital wasn’t going to earn him any genius awards.

On the way towards the supposed attractions, you came across the carousel. Its metal panels were tarnished, the paint worn away from them and the animals, the mirrors grimy with dirt. Vines and ivy climbed up everywhere. The platform shifted when Kuroo stepped onto it, Tendo hot on his heels followed closely by Bokuto. 

“Let’s go see, ‘Toka,” you said, tugging her forward by the hand. Kaori took your other one, squeezing, while Akaashi guided you with a gentle hand on your back.

“Look at this,” someone said, and you turned to find Semi holding a faded paper. “It looks like a poster claiming someone was kidnapping people.”

“How the hell is it still here?” Konoha asked, peering at it around Semi’s arm. “It should have disintegrated a long damn time ago.”

“Dunno,” Semi said with a frown. Trying to see the paper, you were crowded against Semi by Yachi and Kaori and flinched when you realized how hot he was. “It was wedged in the frame of the mirror.”

The whole thing was faded but still legible, due presumably to being tucked into the mirror, and appeared to be a flyer issued by the park itself.

Due to the recent disappearances, park security has been tightened. Please stay aware of your surroundings and report and suspicious activity immediately.

“You were right, Akaashi,” you said, glancing up at the man standing behind you. “They really did think someone was kidnapping people.”

“A lot of the people were never found,” Semi said, folding the sheet up neatly and tucking into his pocket. “It’s not surprising they thought that.”

“Ohhhh, maybe the bodies are still here,” Tendo said, wiggling his fingers over Konoha’s shoulders. “Maybe it was actually the workers kidnapping people and they kept the bodies in a secret place.”

“Like where?” Shirabu asked, giving him an exasperated, skeptical look. It was getting late and they were wasting time just hanging around. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of being in the park after dark, going to possibly the scariest attraction in the place, but if they were going to do it, they needed to just get it done. “The authorities probably tore this place apart looking for them.”

Tendo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Maybe they hid them in the haunted house. Maybe there’s a hidden room somewhere that only the workers knew how to open.”

“Could you not?” Yukie asked, slapping Tendo on the arm. “We’re going there, in case you forgot, pea brain. Way to freak us out.”

Yachi was clinging onto Kaori now, staring at Tendo with wide, frightened eyes and he almost looked repentant.

“Or, you know, could be anywhere. The haunted house would be a pretty obvious place to hide it, wouldn’t it?” he said, rubbing the back of his head. Beckoning to Yachi, she went reluctantly, letting Tendo tuck her under his arm. “Don’t worry, Yach. I’ll protect you, ‘kay?”

You and Kaori snickered at the shade of red her face turned, and Shirabu sighed.

“Can we just get going before it gets too late?” he asked, turning and leading the way down the path. The shadows were slowly lengthening, orange mixing with shades of pink and purple in the sky.

Semi fell into step beside you, Yukie on your other side. Goshiki and Konoha were having a conversation about the derelict rollercoaster to the right, and you allowed your attention to drift to it. It was eerie, the faded paint and rusted metal tracks looming like a foreboding beacon above you. Staring the way you were, your foot caught a displaced cobblestone and you went sprawling with a yelp.

Before you could smack the ground, a strong, warm hand wrapped around your upper arm and hauled you back up. It hurt, causing a sharp ache in your shoulder, but it still hurt less than the concrete probably would have. Looking up at your savior, you gave him a half smile.

“Thanks, Semi,” you said, rubbing your shoulder.

But he was frowning at you-- not that that was any different than the look he’d worn all day-- but this one was marred by soft concern. “Are you alright? You’re awfully cold.”

“O-Oh. No, I’m fine. Just got distracted by the coaster,” you said, giggling in embarrassment. “It is a bit chilly though, now that you mention it. I didn’t notice.”

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of a zipper being drawn down. A weight settled across your shoulders, surrounding you with an unfamiliar cologne, and your cheeks heated up at the realization that he had given you his jacket.

“That’s okay, Semi, really,” you said, shrugging the jacket off. “It isn’t that bad, and it’s my own fault. I left mine in the car.”

“No worries, _____,” he said, and for the first time you could see a small smile on his face in the dim light. “I’m not cold, so you can take it.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, pulling it back around your shoulders. It was warm and you smiled when you caught him looking at you. He was wearing a peculiar look, kind but almost possessive, and he licked his lips once before looking forward again.

You shivered, unsure if you were just seeing things. The park had rattled your nerves and Semi was just being nice. You didn’t know him well enough to make a judgement call like that and forced down the uneasiness, taking your place beside him again.

“Smooth move, klutz,” Konoha quipped, nudging your back. Goshiki and Shirabu snickered and you flipped them off over your shoulder, looping your other arm with Yukie.

The steepled spires of the haunted house came into view, beside which stood the funhouse, like Tendo said. Both looked terrifying in the dying light of the sun. Like everything else, the paint was almost gone, shingles missing from the roofs which were adorned with holes.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Semi’s arm, pressing yourself to it. He glanced at you for a moment, a soft smile flitting across his face before looking at Tendo, who was staring between the two buildings.

“I wanna go in the funhouse,” Tendo said, turning back to the rest of the group. Setting his hands on his hips, he looked around at everyone. “Should we go as a group?” Kuroo shifted, pointing his feet towards the haunted house. “I kinda wanna go in there, actually.”

“Well no one should go anywhere alone,” Shirabu said firmly, and everyone nodded in agreement. If someone got hurt, no one would know for ages and then there was the long ride back on top of it.

“So we’ll split up. Everyone pick a house,” Tendo said, clapping his hands. 

Yukie’s arm around yours disappeared and she scurried over to Tendo, looking at you apologetically. Yachi took her place instead, looking for all the world like she was going to collapse from fright, and you gave her a concerned look.

“I’m going wherever you go,” she said, and you raised a brow. 

Before you could answer, Kuroo’s arm slung around your shoulders, looming over Yachi’s tiny form. “It looks like everyone’s decided. Pretty even split. Let’s meet back here in--” He checked his watch. “Two hours? That should be enough time to see everything.”

You opened your mouth to object, but Tendo nodded while Shirabu set the timer on his watch. “Everyone be careful, please. We really can’t afford any injuries.”

Yachi looked up at the dark house looming before you while the other group made their way towards the funhouse. 

You could hear Tendo’s voice echo back, saying, “That’s the reason we have you here, Shirabu. You’re a doctor and all.”

Shirabu said something in return, but it was lost in the distance as you were herded towards the haunted house. The doors hung open, swinging in the breeze and creaking.  It seemed like the house sucked all the warmth from the air the closer you got to it, and you squeezed Semi’s arm in yours.

“Scared, princess?” Kuroo whispered in your ear, raising the hairs on the back of your neck when his warm breath met your cold skin. “You shouldn’t be. We’re here with you.”

The steps leading into it sagged beneath your weight, the wood softer than it should’ve been and it came as no surprise when one broke beneath Semi’s weight. He cursed while you and Yachi pulled back, keeping him from falling over and potentially hurting himself. It took Akaashi and Kuroo both to pull him up out of the hole and a quick check revealed his jeans had protected his leg.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, looking up into Semi’s unamused face. He was wearing a hard scowl, his grip on you iron clad now as he guided you up the steps.

“Sure,” he said, eyes softening when he looked down at you. “Just annoyed.”

Inside, the light from your phones seemed to be swallowed by the darkness. The dust was thick and the air musty and humid. Cobwebs hung from everything, casting long shadows into the darkness beyond the halo of your flashlights.

Yachi yelped, tripping over a rotted track board and would have dragged you down if you weren’t holding onto Semi so tightly. His heat was almost a comfort now, driving away the persistent chill that seemed to emanate from the ramshackle walls. You couldn’t tell where the fabricated deterioration ended and true rot began.

“This way then?” Akaashi asked, leading the way into the first door. It was the kitchen area, set up to look like a butcher shop. A thick layer of dust settled over everything, motes flurrying through the painfully white light from your phones in an eerie dance that made it even harder to see.

Old props lay on the worn countertops, splotches of what was likely-- hopefully-- fake blood a dark black on the faded wood and laminate. Someone had a hand on your back while Akaashi examined a chain hanging from the ceiling, something hanging from the end of it. It made a strange noise when he pushed it, a crackly, grinding noise like it was rusty. It wouldn’t be a surprise, with the humidity as high as it is. 

“That’s a little unsettling,” Kuroo admitted, and you all jumped when a loud crash rang out somewhere further down.

“Now would be the time to leave if we were in a horror movie,” you hinted through gritted teeth, even as Kuroo stepped back out into the hall. He scanned the darkness, his phone hanging by his side, the light pointed towards the floor. “What do you expect to see anyway, genius?”

He turned back to wink before disappearing into the dark and you groaned, straining your eyes to see anything. His light was lost in the gloom and you released Yachi’s arm, taking a step forward. Semi allowed himself to be dragged along with you while Goshiki held Yachi, petting her hair as she whimpered.

Swearing, you and Semi trudged down the hallway, listening for any noises but heard nothing besides the sounds of an old building settling. Your voice caught in your throat when you opened your mouth to call for Kuroo, your ire failing in the face of the oppressive darkness in the heart of the house. Swiping a cobweb off your face, you shined your phone around, lighting up a destroyed living room area, two hallways, and a staircase.

“You don’t think he went upstairs, do you?” Semi whispered, following your line of sight.

Swallowing, you said, “God I fuckin’ hope not. This is so creepy, can’t we just leave him?”

He chuckled against his will, a quiet, rough noise as he tried to stifle it. “‘Fraid not. I don’t wanna deal with the cops.”

Heaving a sigh, you pointed the light down to the floor and found no sign of footprints in the thick dust. Flashing it behind you, you saw your own and Semi’s clearly visible and frowned. “Hey, look.”

Semi scoured the floor, waving his light all around you. “He definitely came this way.”

Nodding, you pointed the light back in front of you, down the hallway, but it was unable to break more than a few inches of darkness. “Okay, now I’m really freaked out. Where is he?”

New light joined your meager one, shuffling footsteps coming to a stop just behind you. 

Akaashi’s hand landed on your shoulder, peering over your head at where you were staring.

“This way,” Semi said after a moment of silence. It was broken only by Yachi’s occasional sniffle and you wondered if you shouldn’t just return to the front door and let Semi and Akaashi handle the rescue. But gentle pressure on your arm and shoulder guided you down, sniffling at the dust before you broke out into a sneeze.

The floor creaked beneath your feet, making the already eerie feeling worse as you crept down the hall. There were faded, torn paintings lining the walls, a few false doors, and windows painted black and boarded up. You couldn’t tell if the paint peeling up the walls was due to age or intent, but it certainly didn’t help settle your unease. 

“Careful,” Semi said suddenly, jerking you sideways into him. The cold hand slid off your shoulder and a light revealed a hole in the middle of the floor, where you had been about to step.

“Thanks,” you breathed, swallowing harshly. The dust was starting to sting your eyes and you repressed another sneeze, rubbing your nose. 

Skirting around the hole, it opened into another room, what appeared to be a library. Overstuffed armchairs littered the room, the shelves lining the walls stacked with what were likely fake books. There was no sign of Kuroo, but Semi led you further into the room carefully.

He wasn’t careful enough, though.

Once second you were clinging to him, the next you heard a crack and then you were experiencing the most curious sensation. Your stomach swooped as the light disappeared, and you realized belatedly that you were falling. Something warm, almost scalding wrapped around you, and your fall stopped short with a grunt of impact.

You lay there stunned for several long moments, head spinning and heart beating hard enough that you could feel it in your ears. The dark was only furthering your disorientation and you only realized you were laying on something when it moved beneath you.

Sitting up, you felt something slump over your shoulders before coughing filled your ears.

“Semi?” you whispered hoarsely. Above you, you registered screaming and looked up only to be blinded by light.

Semi grunted behind you but didn’t move, breathing heavy against your back. From above, you could hear muted conversation before the shrieking stopped.

“_____, Semi, are you both okay?” Akaashi’s concerned voice reached your ringing ears, and you nodded in response.

It took you a moment to realize he probably couldn’t see you, calling up, “Yeah, I think so. Semi--”

“‘M fine,” he yelled, though he sounded winded. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, wrapping a hand around the wrist dangling in front of you. A few feet away lay your phone, face down, the light muted but visible, and you sighed in relief. “You caught me, are you sure*?”

Semi chuckled, a rough noise. “Yeah, I’m sure. Trust me.”

“You guys stay there,” Akaashi commanded, then turned back to Goshiki and Yachi to say something. “I’ll find a way down to you.”

He disappeared and you scrambled forward, snatching your phone up. Moving back to the relative safety of Semi’s presence, you shined it around. 

The basement, you decided upon seeing the array of monster props and torture machines, was perhaps the most terrifying part of the house. It was only heightened by your adrenaline rush, the shadows seeming to jump out to your paranoid mind.

As the adrenaline wore off, you took stock of your extremities. Semi really had cushioned you-- nothing hurt-- and you turned to face him.

In the light, he really did look fine, even his breathing had evened out, and he looked back at you with a smirk. “Told you. I’m tougher than you think.”

“I’m beginning to realize that,” you admitted, getting to your feet. You didn’t let Semi get far, linking your arm with his and clinging to him, much to his amusement.

His eyes adjusted to the dark faster than yours and he located his phone near the base of a rusty filing cabinet. The screen was cracked-- which he cursed-- but it still worked, and he turned the flashlight back on.

“This is creepy as fuck,” he muttered, thumping the model of a skeletal doctor to see the dust swirl. There was a medical table in the center of the room with a light looming over it. He assumed there was supposed to be a body laying on said table and, in the dark, it was a scary thought that it was no longer there. “I hope Akaashi hurries up. I don’t like it here.”

You couldn’t stifle the small giggle, though you covered your mouth in a poor attempt. It was the nerves, you were sure, because as he moved away you held tighter, stumbling after him. He tried one door, the handle stiff enough that you recognized it to be fake. There was a set of metal double doors on the other side of the room and those swung open with an eerie grinding noise, scraping across the concrete floor.

The hallways extended to either direction, cells lining the wall in front of you and you shuddered. “Let’s go, Semi, please,” you begged, tugging him down to the left. It was the same direction that you had come from on the floor above and hoped that it would lead you to a staircase or something*.

Semi went along reluctantly, flashing his light in all the cells you passed. Most were empty, besides the occasional bed or other prop. Some contained chains mounted in the wall and his eyes flashed to you.

The hallway opened up into what may have been a waiting room if most of the furniture hadn’t been utterly destroyed. As you scanned the area, there was a noise from up ahead and you jerked to a stop, scurrying back to Semi’s side. Peeking around him while he stared down the hall, you kept a tight grip on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath your hand. A shadow moved in the light and you nearly screamed as Kuroo stepped into view, followed closely by Akaashi.

Neither carried a light and your heart leapt in your throat when you caught a momentary flash of light reflecting off of Kuroo’s eyes before it disappeared.

Still hiding behind Semi, the four of you regarded each other in silence for a moment, before Kuroo chuckled.

“Well, this is certainly convenient, though I didn’t expect you to get involved,” he said, leaning sideways against the wall. He looked as relaxed as usual while Akaashi lurked behind him, staring at you peeking around Semi’s arm. 

He held out a hand to you but you held back, suddenly unsure of Kuroo’s words. With your heart in your throat, you looked up into Semi’s relaxed, impassive face. He made no moves, just watched the other two linger in front of your only escape route.

Then he shrugged.

“Dumb luck.”

The men burst into laughter and you squeaked, taking a step back from Semi. Before you could get anywhere, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you forward.

“Easy, kitten. We don’t wanna hurt you,” Kuroo said, stepping further into the room. His eyes lit up once again in the light from your flashlight, mischievous brown turning solid gold. His pupils narrowed and elongated, his smile seeming to become more sharp as he stared down at you.

You breathed in sharply, taking a step back into Semi’s chest. Regardless of whether he was in on whatever they had planned, he was the safest option as opposed to whatever the hell Kuroo was.

The grip on your wrist loosened but came to your shoulders instead, keeping you in place with a warning squeeze. You had already guessed he was tough, given he had taken the full brunt of the impact earlier, but you now suspected he wasn’t human either.

Akaashi came forward last, looking as placid and calm as ever, cold fingertips stroking down your cheek.

You shivered.

None of these men were human, if you had to hazard a guess. Staring up at them, you felt your heart drop.

“W-Where are ‘Toka and Goshiki?” you asked, and were proud that your voice barely cracked. Maybe if you reminded them people would be looking for you, they would back off, allowing you to escape.

Kuroo chuckled, flipping the zipper of your-- Semi’s-- jacket up in what would have been a cute manner under different circumstances. “Keiji here sent them looking for the others in the funhouse, but they’ll never find the doorway down here. Tendo was right, there are lots of hidden doors in this place.”

“What are you? What are you going to-- to d-do to me?” you asked quickly, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as he started to tug the zipper down. You were stalling at best, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. If there was any chance of escape, you couldn’t figure it out. You had no idea where this door was and you had the impression you wouldn’t be able to outrun them anyway.

“I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you,” he answered, taking a step closer. You tried to shrink away, huddling down into Semi’s oversized jacket, but it only seemed to entice them. “I am a yokai, I assume you know what that is? Akaashi is your run of the mill demon.”

If that offended Akaashi, he didn’t show it, simply widening his smile and blinking slowly. His once serene blue eyes turned pitch black and when he blinked again, they were normal.

“I’m just a werewolf,” Semi said, breathing against your ear. His hands slid down, catching the zipper of his jacket between his fingers and drawing the zipper down slowly.

“W-Wait, please,” you tried, grabbing and tugging at his wrist to no avail. He was far stronger, and you were like a fly in comparison. “Please, can we just go?”

Kuroo cupped your cheek, a moderate temperature compared to the other two, and his smile seemed to soften a fraction. “No, kitten. Keiji and I have been waiting for this for far too long. The wolf probably just likes how you smell.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but the deep, pointed inhale Semi took against your neck seemed to verify the statement. The jacket fell to the floor with barely a whisper and then your phone was placed face up on a table, beside the men’s, and the combined light filled the room. 

It felt like you couldn’t get enough air as warm hands skimmed down your stomach, stretching the soft fabric of your t-shirt out, before settling on your hips. Lips met your neck, tentative at first, trailing up to your jaw, causing you to shiver.

The heat radiating off of Semi and Kuroo was getting to you, Semi’s soft lips flitting over pleasure spots causing your back to arch. You didn’t want to like it, but when Kuroo’s hands slipped up your shirt and over your ribs, your muscles tensed in unwanted arousal. Your nipples were already peaking inside your bra, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the first graze of teeth on your skin.

“W-Wa-ait--” you breathed and, for a moment, you thought they really would stop because they both paused.

It was over in a moment, a soft kiss pressed to your other cheek as Kuroo pushed your bra up over your tits. His hands were soft as they cupped the tender flesh, giving gentle squeezes that went straight to your core, as much as you protested. “Not gonna happen, kitten. May as well enjoy it. We’ll take good care of you.”

A new sensation joined the heat surrounding you then, Kuroo moving to the side to allow Akaashi to join in. His hands were cold compared to the other two, one on your side and one cupping your unoccupied breast. The difference was enough to make you gasp, back arching on its own into their touch, and they at least had the decency not to snicker.

“You really do smell good, princess,” Semi whispered in your ear, nipping the lobe. “I can smell everything, even how wet you’re getting for us.”

Craning your neck away from him only opened you up to another smattering of kisses and you hated that he was right. They were getting to you, their gentle touches on your body doing everything right, like they had been your lovers for years rather than men you just met today. It made it harder to think than it already was, mind still racing in a futile effort to formulate some way to escape, but even you could recognize your body giving up.

Your shirt came up and over your head, disappearing somewhere outside of your vision. There was a collective intake from the men in front of you, and Semi groaned over your shoulder.

“I knew you would be so pretty, kitten,” Kuroo cooed, palming one tit again. He relished in the way you twitched when he pinched your nipple, then he cupped both, bouncing and watching them jiggle. “Been watching you all day, we couldn’t wait to get our hands on you.”

Akaashi was the first to lean over, wrapping cool lips around one pert bud, and Kuroo stepped back to watch your teeth sink into your lip to stifle any noises.

“Feel good, princess?” Semi asked, and chuckled when you shook your head. “It will soon, then. We won’t hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good.”

The worst part was, you were beginning to enjoy it. It was so tempting to cave, to just let them have their way with you. They were gentle, surprisingly so, and it was knocking down whatever resistance you had left at an alarming rate.

Semi’s hands were almost scalding against your sides, squeezing and kneading as he suckled at your neck, feeling you whine in your throat. “There you go. Just let go.”

The clasp of your bra came loose, and you weren’t even sure who had done it, before it was slid down your arms and dumped, presumably with your shirt.

There were two sets of lips attached to each nipple, your nails digging into your palms to keep from tangling your fingers in someone’s hair but you were losing the will to fight. Your panties were embarrassingly wet, no matter how much your mind insisted you didn’t like it, and you broke your silence when cold fingers drifted down to undo the button of your jeans.

“No please,” you begged, wiggling your hips in your first real display of resistance. Hands clamped down to still them in an iron grip, and a hand clasped your jaw, forcing you to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“What wrong, kitten? You’ve been so good up til now,” he said, stroking your lower lip with his thumb. There were imprints of your teeth in the skin, and he ached to kiss you, but it would have to wait.

“I-I don’t w-want--” you stuttered, tears burning the corners of your eyes as your zipper was pulled down.

Semi interrupted you then, tilting your head just so that he could kiss the corner of your mouth, smirking. “She’s embarrassed because of how wet she is.” Dropping his voice to barely a whisper, he said, “I can smell you, princess. You want this, don’t deny it.”

Shaking your head feebly, you whined when Semi pressed his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your lips again. It was enough to distract you from your jeans sliding down your legs, until they pooled at your ankles and Akaashi had to tug your shoes off. Your jeans hit the floor shortly afterwards, the air startlingly cool against your now bare skin only to be covered with warmth as the men caged you in again.

It started with two fleeting touches to your inner thighs, which you tried to stop by squeezing them together only for them to pried apart in an instant. Semi took the opportunity to lay another languid kiss to the corner of your mouth, tongue flicking out against your lips.

For a moment, you turned into it only to jerk away, looking in the opposite direction. You knew what they were trying to do and you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you beg for something you didn’t want. You wondered briefly where the others were and why you could hear nothing from above, until warm hands cupped your tits again.

You bit down on your lip again when Semi circled your nipples with his thumbs, massaging your breasts as he rolled them between his fingers. It was hard to keep quiet when it felt so good, especially when Kuroo and Akaashi were teasing your inner thighs, so close your aching cunt.

Your hips rocked of their own accord, your mind too preoccupied with the warm touches on your tender nipples and stifling your noises, but all three of your attackers smirked.

“Ask, pretty girl,” Akaashi said, speaking for the first time. 

His voice combined with his fleeting, cold touch against the soaked lips of your cunt caused a gasp to break free, hips rolling up in a jerky manner against your will. Your ears burned when they laughed and your teeth sank into your lip again. It was driving you insane, they were so close but you refused to beg for it.

“Aw, did we upset you, kitten?” Kuroo cooed, placing a wet kiss against your hip. “We’re sorry. You’re just so cute we can’t help it. Come on, ask us. Ask us to touch this pretty little pussy and we’ll make it up to you.”

Another swipe across your clit timed with a tug on your nipples broke the seal a second time.

“S-Semi--”

“There she goes,” Semi whispered, tilting your head around to look at him. Tears were spilling down your cheeks as you looked up at him with wide, resigned eyes. His eyes dropped to your parted lips for a moment and you swallowed, blinking the tears away, but didn’t struggle.

The first kiss was tentative, tongue ghosting between your parted lips to test you for a reaction. You only whined into the kiss, leaning in and he delved into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours as he tasted you.

When he pulled away, you hiccupped, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Please, just touch me. Fuck me, do whatever. I can’t--” you whispered, thighs aching from how tense you had been for god knew how long. It was too much to hold out, not when you were so wet and aching for it anyway. They knew what they were doing, their gentle teasing and buildup working to break down any fight you had and it had worked flawlessly. 

You melted into Semi as Kuroo lifted one leg over his shoulder. Akaashi left a trail of cool kisses down your inner thigh while Kuroo kissed up the opposite one. You didn’t know whether to tremble or whine, so you did both when his nose bumped your clit, and they chuckled again.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” Akaashi asked, and you might have mistook it for affection in another situation. “Just relax.”

As if you had a choice. Hot breathe puffed across your folds, teasing just a little more until you were practically dripping on his lips. Only then did his tongue swipe across your clit, your hips jerking harshly. His hot tongue was replaced with a cold one, the two of them taking turns lapping at your clit at such a languid pace that it was more torturous than not being touched at all.

“Fuck, please, stop teasing,” you cried, voice cracking as your back arched. You were desperate at this point, willing to beg or do whatever they wanted. You weren’t getting out of it without doing so anyway, so you might as well enjoy it. “Kuroo, Akaashi, please.”

A sharp pinch to your nipples made you squeal just before Semi devoured your mouth. You could feel the aggravation in the kiss, the way his teeth clacked against yours and his tongue pressed against yours. You made muffled noises against him, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair.

At the same time, Kuroo latched onto your clit properly, and your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you rocked your hips against his feverish suckling. The noises he was making filled the quiet space, grunts and would-be moans that terminated against your clit as he worked to make you cum.

Your head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen and intense pleasure. Kuroo wasn’t giving you an inch and your slick hole fluttered around nothing, until something swirled around your entrance before slipping in.

You forgot about the kiss, Semi’s lips hovering against yours as you came with a cry around cold fingers. The temperature difference between Akaashi’s fingers and Kuroo’s lips was mind numbing, your eyelids flickering, trying to stay open before giving in. You didn’t bother to be quiet, letting your moans bounce off the walls. Maybe it would draw the others to you, and you could still get out of this.

Instead of withdrawing his fingers, Akaashi slipped another one in beside the first, kitten licking your still sensitive clit and listening to you whine for him to “Stop, please, too much.” He only smirked, continuing to lap until you relaxed, though the stream of noises never stopped.

There was a moment of hesitation as Kuroo stood, cocking his head in Semi’s direction. With your attention on your throbbing clit and Akaashi’s almost icy touch, you missed the way Semi beckoned to him. Their lips met briefly, allowing Semi to get a taste of you on his lips before Semi dragged him into a deeper one, tongues meeting in a heated tangle. Both men were hard, Semi grinding his clothed erection against the cheek of your ass, the chafing fabric unnoticed against your soft skin.

You squirmed against him when Akaashi crooked his fingers just right inside you, grazing over the swollen sweet spot inside you again and again until you were on the verge of another orgasm. It seemed like no matter how long his fingers stayed inside you, they never heated up. You weren’t even sure if the cold of his tongue flicking over your clit was pleasurable or not but it was such constant pressure that you hurtled towards your second orgasm. Kuroo was quick to stifle it, delving into your mouth for you to taste what remained of you on his tongue.

You came with a cry, convulsing around Akaashi’s fingers for a second time so hard you became light headed. He continued to pet that spot inside you until you were squirming to get away, tugging roughly at his hair.

Your legs shook when he let you down, only Semi’s strong grip keeping you upright. The sound of belt buckles clanging brought you down quickly, and trepidation set your heart racing again. There was no stopping it, but you found yourself trying to back up anyway. 

“Ah,” Kuroo tutted, taking you from Semi’s arm and kissing the crown of your head like he was comforting you. “Don’t start that. We aren’t going to hurt you, kitten.”

No, they certainly hadn’t yet, and you had no choice but to trust his words. Something hard pressed against your ass, hotter even than the rest of Semi. You instinctively jerked away, pressing into Kuroo only to feel something slip between your thighs.

“Excited, aren’t we?” Kuroo drawled, and you could feel the condescension dripping off of him. Semi pressed to your back again, shielding you from the cold, while Kuroo asked, “How are we gonna take her? Semi, you kinda threw a wrench in things, can’t lie.”

Semi shrugged against your back, letting his cock settle between your thighs. You whined, jerking your hips instinctively away from the heat against your folds, but it only served to make him grind into you.

“I want this sweet cunt,” Semi snarled, cupping your jaw in a tight grip and tilting your head away, baring your throat to him. He licked a stripe from your shoulder to just beneath your ear before kissing the soft skin, and you shivered at the possessiveness in his tone.

“Alright, wolfboy smells a mate,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “Akaashi?”

The last of the trio stepped forward again, skimming his fingers down your cheek before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I’m okay with whatever you want, Kuroo. Just wanna feel her around me.”

There was something dark in his eyes that belied his passive words. He was deferring to Kuroo to get things moving, you were almost sure. Like the rest of him, his cock was cool against your thigh, more like a glass dildo you kept at home than a cock attached to a man.

“That makes things easy then,” Kuroo said, clapping his hands and giving you that mischievous smile. If you didn’t know any better-- you didn’t-- you would say his teeth were a little sharper, the canines more pronounced than before. His eyes certainly hadn’t changed, maintaining that almost glowing golden color this whole time. “Semi, lay on the couch. Keiji, you can take her from behind. I want her mouth.”

He sounded like he was giving out instructions to his employees rather than fucking a very reluctant person, but the other two followed his instructions without question. It was an odd sensation, to be talked about as if you weren’t there, as if you had no say over what was happening to you.

Not that you did.

It wasn’t until you were straddling Semi that you realized something. In addition to being hotter than average, he was larger than average, peeking out from between your folds to drip precum just below his bellybutton. The way your stomach swooped made you nauseous and tears fell down your cheeks all over again.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked, wiping them away as best he could. You wouldn’t be fooled by the concern in his tone; he wouldn’t stop anyway.

You turned your face away only to jump when a finger slipped your cunt, cool to the touch, followed by a second, only to be removed a second later. They moved instead to your slick rear entrance, circling and massaging until it gave way, eased by your previous orgasms. You fell forward, bracing yourself over Semi, who held your rocking hips still. Two fingers filled you, the stretch no more than a sting but it was uncomfortable nonetheless when you didn’t want it.

Akaashi’s other hand came down, long fingers wrapping around your throat just beneath your chin, pulling you back up to your knees. “Good girl,” he whispered in your ear before forcing your head around so he could capture your lips.

They parted naturally when his tongue glided across them, allowing him access without thought. You couldn’t place his taste; it was like he’d just eaten ice before kissing you, and you moaned into it.

Kuroo, who until then had been content to watch, groaned and stood from the dilapidated chair he had been lounging in. One hand wrapped around your wrist, moving your hand to wrap around his aching cock, desperate for some kind of relief. Your palm was soft against him, and he spit on it twice for good measure before allowing you to curl your fingers around him again. They did so automatically, squeezing tight and he hissed through gritted teeth, slit pupils narrowing further as he watched Akaashi’s tongue delve into your mouth like he wanted his cock to.

All the while, Semi was forcing you to slide along his shaft, slow, calculated moves designed to drag your clit back and forth against him. He could feel you trembling above him, your hands curled into fists against his chest, hips moving with his hands. You dripped down his cock, covering him in your slick and he almost growled at the heady scent. Unlike the other two, he could smell how bad you wanted it and it was driving him wild.

“Akaashi, hurry up,” he snapped, digging his nails into your soft hips hard enough to leave marks if he wasn’t careful.

Akaashi hummed in disapproval, pulling from your mouth to stare impassively at the werewolf. “I don’t want to hurt her, Semi.”

Yet, he withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss.

“Finally,” Semi hissed, helping Akaashi lift you up so he could slick his cock up against your cunt before settling against your rear hole. “You go first.”

Your toes curled tight enough to cramp as Akaashi gave you a warning nudge before splitting you open. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as you stared up into the cobwebbed ceiling, waiting for him to bottom out. Thighs trembling in Semi’s hold, you fell back against Akaashi’s chest as his hips met your ass.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaving cool kisses along your shoulder and neck. Goosebumps were raising up your arms and back, and he would have felt bad if you weren’t squeezing around his cock so tight while Semi positioned himself at your dripping hole.

You couldn’t decide if you really wanted two cocks, weren’t sure if you could even take two, but Semi was stretching you so wide you were crying out broken babbles none of them could make out as he seated you flush against his hips. You twitched above him, fluttered around him, squeezed rhythmically while you tried weakly to get away.

The sensation of fullness was one you had never experienced before. Even just Semi’s cock was more than you had ever taken, let alone Akaashi’s cock in your inexperienced asshole. You blinked rapidly, unable to decide if you liked it or not before a hand wound in your hair and you were pulled down. 

Kuroo’s cock bobbed in your face and your jaw dropped automatically, allowing him to smear precum around your lips. He was more salty than bitter as he slipped into your mouth, stuffing himself as far as he could before you started gagging. Pulling back, he gave you a small reprieve to gasp for air before filling your mouth again. There was no fighting his thrusts, you had to force your throat to relax or choke. A mix of drool and tears spilled down your chin as a thick vein dragged against your tongue, dripping off to the floor. In the back of your foggy mind you were disgusted.

When they felt you relax around Kuroo’s cock, his hips moving in a steady rhythm to fuck your throat, Akaashi and Semi moved. 

You spasmed around Kuroo when Semi lifted you up and dropped you back down, your hips meeting with a wet slap, his cock stifling your scream. Akaashi pulled out then, a little more careful as he stuffed himself back in, but the constant push and pull of their hips soon spread fire through your body. Kuroo was heavy on your tongue, Semi and Akaashi bumping and grinding against each other through the thin wall separating your cunt and ass, Semi’s curls stimulating your throbbing, sensitive clit.

You couldn’t fathom how you were careening towards a third orgasm, but Semi’s cock was so thick he couldn’t help but drag along the swollen, gummy sweet spot inside you. Akaashi’s low, pleasured moans in your ear gave you a vague sense of pride. These gorgeous men wanted you, were moaning for you. 

It was enough to make you forget this wasn’t right.

Kuroo thought you were moaning, your throat vibrating around his cock as he facefucked you with abandon. The tight sleeve of your throat only grew tighter when Akaashi’s hand slipped between your legs to pet your clit and Kuroo grunted.

“Keep that up, kitten, and you’re gonna make me cum,” he said, holding your nose down in his curls for a few seconds just to feel you spasm around him.

Semi and Akaashi felt the benefits of it, both your holes clenching around them as you gagged. Semi took the opportunity to grind deep inside you, rolling his hips up so that he pushed against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled around him, a squeal stifled around Kuroo’s cock as you came hard, jerking in Semi’s hold. He snarled, bouncing you on his cock with abandon as Akaashi slammed into you, spreading your clenching hole without care as he moaned.

Kuroo grunted, pumping into your mouth a few more times before pressing your nose into his pelvis and cumming, his lips parted in an ‘o’ and his head tipping back. You had no choice but to swallow until he pulled out and spilled the remnant all over your face, smirking as it mixed with your tears and drool to drip off your chin.

Semi’s back arched off the couch, strong hands pulling you down to sit flush with his hips as he spilled inside you. Your eyes grew wide at the intense heat filling your womb, the warmth rushing up through you at the same time Akaashi came in your ass. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as his cum offset the heat of Semi’s, and your vision swam for a moment from overstimulation.

Semi caught you as you collapsed forward, cradling you to his chest regardless of the mess, petting your hair. 

Akaashi slipped out of you, sharing a small smirk with Kuroo as he sought out your clothes.

“Give me my shirt,” Semi said, catching it from the air when Akaashi threw it. He forced you to sit up, watching you sway with a twisted sense of pride, and wiped the mess from your face. Akaashi and Kuroo took you from there, helping you to dress while you leaned against them, unable to keep from snickering at the state they’d left you in.

“Can you walk, kitten?” Kuroo asked, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Or do you need someone to carry you?”

“I-I can w-walk,” you stuttered, throat raspy. You frowned and grabbed it, swallowing with a wince.

“Good girl,” Kuroo said, dropping a kiss on your lips and smirked when you leaned after him as he pulled away. “We don’t need to worry about you telling anyone, do we?”

Shaking your head, you allowed Semi to wrap an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to bathe in his warmth as Kuroo led the way up the hidden stairs a little ways down the hall they had been blocking earlier. At the top of the stairs, you could hear voices calling your names and perked up, trying to follow the echoes in the darkness.

“This way,” Kuroo said, leading the way though there wasn’t a speck of light in sight. Your own phone was tucked safely in the pocket of Semi’s jacket, which he had taken back. “Keiji, give me your phone. Appearances.”

Right, couldn’t let the humans know.

Everyone crowded around you, throwing questions all at once, until Shirabu lost his temper. He insisted on looking you and Semi over, just to determine for sure nothing was the matter. 

He seemed a little concerned by how out of it you were, and asked if you hit your head.

Three sets of eyes landed on you, all carrying a different weight as they waited for you to speak.

“Just tired, Shirabu,” you murmured, hiding your face in Semi’s side. “It took ages for them to find us. Can we go home now?”

The tension eased, though you kept your face hidden, allowing him to guide you blindly down the hallway.

It was even colder outside than earlier, and Kuroo took over the spot on your other side, gently shooing Yachi towards the other. She had insisted on keeping you company, watching you with wide, worried eyes while Akaashi and Kuroo whispered together behind her.

Even now, she watched the way the three men hovered around you with curious concern. They treated you like a precious object-- or a possession that needed to be protected.

You nodded in response to something Kuroo said, trying-- if possible-- to curl even closer into Semi. Akaashi hovered in the background, pretty face as impassive as ever until he caught Yachi looking at him.

His lips curled up in a smile, his face softening ever so slightly, and she relaxed. Whatever had happened to you down there, it seemed to spark something in the three men.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad.