#this entertains me in the dull parts of class

[scobbe]

I think my bioethics professor might be a werewolf, but in that innocent Remus Lupin kind of way

[writersblockedx]

Bookshops and Baking

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Forced onto a muggle trip with his family, Fred finds entertainment in your bookshop. He can’t help but thinking that maybe he likes you more than most muggles.  Warnings - Fred not undertstanding basic text speech, Mentions of alchol Words - 2.2k

A/n - Possible part two ??

Masterlist

Fred was never fond of the muggle world. It was all waiting. Waiting for them to turn on a light switch rather than casting the words of 'Lumos'. He thought they lived in apathy without the ability to create pranks and joke boxes. To him, most of them went to an office and came back and that was their day. They went through education, settled down with the most practical partner, had kids they were learning to hate and then got buried in the ground. It was ever so simple yet ever so dull.

It wasn't until his dad dragged him out on a muggle trip, that he met you, and his opinion started to change.

Mr Weasley had taken all the kids on a trip to a city in the North of the Country. The weather could only be described as damp and when it started raining, Fred split from the group. He hadn't paid much attention to the building he entered, all he cared for was that it had a ceiling that would protect him from the rain. Wasn't as if he could cast a spell to protect him; strictly no magic in front of muggles and strictly, by his dad's rules, no magic on muggle trips. He liked to think his kids got the full muggle experience.

Fred opened the shop door, a ping sounded from above his head. At first, he was met with books. Many of them. Shelves of them. A library, he presumed. He barely visited them at Hogwarts, never mind a muggle library where you had to search for the very book you wanted rather than call it into your hands. But it was dry and that's all he cared for.

"Hi!" A voice called. He turned, facing the till where you were standing, a customer service smile slapped onto your lips. "Welcome," You grasped a tray from the side of you and offered it to Fred. "Take a brownie, browse, enjoy the plenty of books." Your smile never faulted.

Fred gazed at the baked goods on the tray. Traditional, non-magic, brownies. No love potion mixed into them, or fake-sickness to get you out of class. It was just a brownie. Fred took one, "Thank you." He took his first bite and could have sworn something so good, so gooey, would have to be magic. "This- This is amazing." He spoke, still with a mouthful of chocolate swirling around his mouth.

You smiled but questioned his enthusiasm, "It's just a brownie." You assured.

You weren't sure about the ginger stranger who had walked into the bookshop, but he certainly intrigued you. "Do you have the erm recipe?" He questioned before taking another gulp of the treat.

"It was just on good foods." You answered him, not hiding the amused smile that wouldn't leave your lips.

"What- What is that?"

He really was a strange man, "A website." You told him. Fred almost cursed himself for not remembering about the muggle's favourite invention of the internet; his dad never shut up about it.

"Oh, right, yeah." He mumbled, taking his final bite.

You stepped around the counter and came to face the redhead. "Here," You said, taking his crum cover hand into your own. You took the lid of a pen and started writing the name of the website and then, with a push of confidence, you started writing your own number. "If you've got any more baking cravings, you can always message me." You stopped writing and looked up at him. His eyes were clung to you, wide-eyed as if you could do no wrong as if he could trust you to hold his heart for a lifetime. "I do more than just brownies."

He nodded slowly before realising he should probably say something, "Right," He suddenly couldn't think straight. Maybe it was the brownie. Maybe he was just confused. He had liked pretty girls before but never had one made him feel like this. So flushed, so nervous to even take a breath. "I don't have a phone." He suddenly realised.

Your head dipped to the side, "Oh." You let out.

"I'll get one." He cut in before you could reject him. "I've been meaning to for a while." Well, his dad had really wanted one of the muggle's phones; they called them apples? So he thought they did.

"Well, when you do, I'll be waiting for the message." Your words caused another grin to fall on his lips. "It's Y/n by the way."

"Fred." He returned.

And like that, the two of you had become acquainted. Possibly he was strange, perhaps a little old-fashioned, or maybe he was the first to use not having a phone as a way to reject someone. Either way, Fred ended up lingering in your mind. Dates came in and out of your life, but you found him, just a boy who liked your brownies, yet he had made you feel more than any other date.

Fred was the same. His mind was infatuated with the idea of you...a muggle. It was odd to him. He had nothing against muggles, of course, but he had never seen himself befriending one - never mind it being possibly flirtatious. But as he left the bookshop (without any actual books) he went to one of the muggle 'Apple' stores. There, he finally picked up a phone and would spend the next night trying to figure it all out and swearing on muggles for making everything so difficult.

Now, the thing was Fred had never sent a text. He had sent letters. So when he was faced with typing, he assumed the two were no different.

To Y/n, I can't stop thinking about them brownies. From, Fred.

He became even more confused when only an hour later he received a message in return:

I'll make them again for you sometime - lmk when you're free.

He stared at the muggle message for a while. When he couldn't figure out what you meant by 'lmk', he resorted to going to his dad. He and the rest of the family were awaiting Molly's dinner, lingering by the table when Fred stormed through. His eyes were on the phone until he met his dad and handed the object over.

"What does this mean?" He demanded to know simply because he was so eager to message the girl back.

Arthur flicked his glasses over his eyes and inspected the message. "Is this your muggle girlfriend?" Yelled George who was setting the table.

Fred flicked his head to his twin brother, telling him to, "Shut up," before turning back to his dad.

"Don't tell me he's back at it with that muggle phone." Ginny commented.

"Back at it?" George laughed. "He hasn't put it down. He won't stop talking to someone called Siri?"

"Is that the girl?" Asked Ron, finally looking up from the piece of bread he had been eating.

Fred looked to his siblings for one last time, "No, it's not the girl." He said with a stern tone woven through his words. He finally looked to his dad, "Do you know what it is?"

He nodded and put the phone on the table, "It's one of the muggle text abbreviations. They get lazy when they text on their electronics." He explained.

"Okay, so what does L.M.K mean?"

Arthur shrugged, "Oh, I've no idea."

Shit, Fred thought, but knew he shouldn't say it. He couldn't understand these text abbreviations but the idea of not responding was torturous. So, he did the next best thing.

Without his dad or his siblings, Fred took it upon himself to visit the muggle world by himself. He travelled through the streets, luckily this time they were dry streets, right until he came across the same bookshop.  He took a breath like this would take a lot out of him. Then, he put his firm palm on the door and pushed. That same bell rang, addressing his entrance to anyone close.

His eyes went straight to the counter which was empty, only occupied by a tray of cookies. The boy wandered further down, slipping into the maze of the bookshelf before, finally, he caught sight of you. Your hands reaching up, pushing books into their respective positions. You hadn't noticed him at first, completely wrapped up in your own world. He walked towards you, a smile plastered on his lips when he breathed and spoke, "Hi."

You finally turned, your expression moulding into a curious one, "Fred?" You almost giggled. "Didn't think I'd see you here after you ghosted me."

His brows narrowed, "I'm sorry?"

Then you did giggle, "Doesn't matter. How can I help you?"

"I was thinking about you and what you said. And you're right, I am old-fashioned. Completely." He started, not daring to tear from your gaze. "Which is why I'm here and it's why I'm offering to take you out...on a date." He pushed out his hopeful smile, watching your eyes carefully as they filled with some emotion he couldn't pinpoint.

"Okay, Mr old-fashioned." You agreed as if you hadn't been thinking about it since you last saw the boy. "My shift finishes in an hour."

Fred didn't move, "Right."

"So I'll meet you at a restaurant afterwards." You planned. "You choose, message me the address."

That was the worse thing you could have done. But, at that moment, Fred agreed. He spent at least half of that hour scouting for a restaurant. One that was quaint enough to be intimate, but one that was also expensive, somewhere you could wear a nice dress to and you could share a bottle of wine. And when he finally found one, he ordered himself the bottle of wine and sat there waiting until you showed up.

You arrived on the dot. Nervous, but trying to hide it well enough, and once your gaze hit his, a smile grazed your lips. He took you in an embrace before the two of you were seated across from one another. Conversation started flowing as soon as you had a lick of wine. You learnt of the wacky Weasley family, from his twin brother to his parents and all the other siblings in between. He owned a business - one of which you had never heard of - but it certainly did impress you. He claimed he hadn't had much time for dating and that running into yourself was just perfect timing.

So, of course, when the brownie dessert you were sharing started coming to an end, and Fred offered a second date, you agreed. And, on that date, you agreed to a third.

For that one, Fred had arranged every single detail. He would greet you in a shirt and tie, a bouquet of flowers waiting in his hands. You would thank him and accept the flowers before taking his hands and entering the theatre. At half-time, you would go in-depth about the meaning behind the play. Before, at the end of the night, as he dropped you off on your front steps, he would finish the night with a kiss.

Everything would go to plan - so Fred hoped anyway.

What happened instead, ruined everything. Fred was waiting outside the venue, doing his once-over for everything. He made sure his shirt was perfectly ironed and that the flowers were-

He suddenly looked down at his palms and realised they were empty. He had left them on the back seat of his car. He almost swore aloud before his wizard instinct stepped in. He retrieved his wand from his blazer pocket, shuffling into the shadows. He picked up some small daisies from the ground that lined the building. From there, he mumbled the words of, "Engorgio" and the small petals tripled in their size until they resembled some proper, store-bought flowers.

It was bad timing. When Fred gazed back up, he wasn't met with shadow, he was met with you, staring at him and the flowers that had just magically grown at his will. How could he explain this? "Y/n," He spoke your name in a breath that he had been holding. "I can explain." No, he couldn't.

You shook your head, already taking some steps back. "I- I can't-" You couldn't get the words out; your mind was too focused on trying to figure out what you had just witnessed.

Before Fred could say much more, you turned your back to him and slipped away. He should have been more worried about the fact a muggle had witnessed magic, that the very being of all witches and wizards had suddenly become endangered. He should have been worried about how much this mistake was going to cost him - if the Mystery of Magic would send him to Azkaban for this? But all that swirled around in the boy's head was whether he could fix the sudden wedge he had put between himself and you.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Act Naturally 3

Summary: It's been a couple of days since Lucy and Cooper married, and the vault doctor is confused when he finds out that they've not consummated it yet.

Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Warnings. None really? Smut with be on the next/final part.

Masterlist

It's been a couple of days since their marriage, and Cooper finds life in the vault... dull, to say the least. There isn't much way of entertainment, and his new job as Althetic Coach was pretty useless, leaving the ex-actor bored most days. Not that Lucy is boring, but the young woman had more duties in the vault than he did, leaving Cooper alone much of the day.

No, Lucy was an amazing, intelligent young woman who Cooper was getting to know little by little. She was raised to be a go-getter, with a can-do attitude, but he could see that there was more to just that. Lucy was kind and thoughtful in a way that few people truly were. Cooper didn't love her, but he could see himself falling for the young vault dweller.

A week passes by, and he's back in their shared home, mindlessly watching a rerun of some old-world cartoon when there is a knock on the door. He pushes himself up and answers the sliding door to find a middle-aged man on the other side with a white lab coat over his vault suit.

"Hello, Mr. Howard. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet. I'm Dr. Gallows," He introduces himself and shakes Cooper's hand when offered.

"Cooper, good to meet you," the ex-actor, "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

The doctor clears his throat and shoots Cooper a small grin, "Well, usually a new bride has already come to see me after the consummation of the marriage, but Lucy has yet to stop by, so I wanted to do a house call to make sure everything was good to go."

Cooper blinks at the doctor, and the casual way he brings up his sex life. Lucy hadn't made a move to try and sleep with him, and Coop had been fine with allowing her to set the pace. What did it matter if they hadn't fucked yet?

"Okay... and?"

The doctor lets out an awkward chuckle, "Well. Part of the Vault mission is to rebuild human society, but we can't do that if we don't have kids, right Mr. Howard? So I'd like for Lucy to come see me in the next couple of days, that should give the two of you please of time."

Cooper wants to protest, to immediately shut this innane bull crap down, but he stops himself. The vaults were a tight nit group, and he doubted that just he would be in trouble if he decided to deck their doctor in the face. Lucy would be part of this, too.

So, instead, the man sighs and grands the doctor a look little more friendly than a glare, "I'll see what I can do, Doc."

"Ah, splendid then! I'll see you in a couple of days!"

Cooper sneers as the other man be-pops away like nothing had happened and shuts the door quickly. He would have to talk to Lucy about this when she got home.

It's near the evening by the time his wife gets home, and Cooper welcomes Lucy with a smile and open arms, which she gratefully falls into. He holds her close and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, "Long day, baby?"

Lucy sighs dramatically and leans back so that she can look at him, "You have no idea. Dad had me sit in on all his meetings, and then I had class to teach. No one even paid attention."

Cooper chuckles a bit and leads Lucy over to the couch, where she sits down beside him. He keeps her close, one arm curled around her back as she tells him about her day, which sounds far more interesting than anything he did today.

They are having a light dinner when Cooper brings up his visitor from earlier in the day, "Dr. Gallows came by today."

He pauses when Lucy’s face erupts in , and the fork she holds falls to the plate. He cocks a brow at her and sits back, sitting his own utensils down to give his wife his full attention. Cooper sees her swallow harshly and avoid his gaze.

"What - uhm. What did he want?"

Cooper licks his lips, fingers itching for a cigarette to occupy his hands with, and says as easy as pie, "Wondering why we haven't "consummated our marriage" yet."

Lucy's shoulders draw up to around her ears, and she slaps her hands over her face, "I'm so sorry. He wasn't being pushy, was he?"

Cooper huffed and stood from his seat, "Well, he made it quite clear that he wasn't too thrilled that we've kept him waiting. I'm not a fan of these vault rules, Darlin', so we'll make him wait as long as you want him to."

He gathers the dishes and sets them in the sink for later, and then turns back around to see his wife still slumped over the table. He frowns and mosies over, one hand dropping to her shoulder and squeezing lightly, "We'll follow your lead."

Lucy reaches up a hand and curls it around his own, her fingers squeezing hard before she lifts her head and peeks up at him through her dark bangs. Cooper thinks she looks beautiful like this.

"I want to," she begins and elaborates when he lifts a brow, her voice wavering with nerves, "to have sex with you. I was just too scared to ask."

The ex-actor scoffs and stands behind her, his other hand coming up to land on her shoulder and massage the tense muscles there. She sags under him, and Cooper bends down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. He didn't want her to feel scared or nervous around him, not when he was her husband.

"You can talk to me about anything, Sweetheart," Cooper assures his wife quietly, "I'm always in your corner, no matter what, okay?"

Lucy nods, and when she looks at him again, he catches the way her pupils blow wide and watches her red tongue sneak out to wet her lips. Arousal pools in his stomach, and his hands tighten around her shoulders.

"Can we have sex, now?"

Cooper swallows harshly and searches her gaze for any time that says Lucy might not want any of this but only sees growing excitement. He smiles at her, a slow smirk that speaks for how much he absolutely wants to have sex. He lets her go and rounds the chair, then angles her chin up to look at him with his knuckle.

"Go get ready for me then, baby."

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon!Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a College

Summary: Ciel is given a new assignment, and Sebastian and (Y/N) find a way to blend in at Weston College.

Mouse Note: We're jumping right into the plot! Also, MC and Sebastian as a couple looooove to, you know, be in love. Writing them makes me blush. But, welcome back to One Hell of a Love! I had a ton of fun writing the Public School Arc. I have no idea if my updates will get ahead of the anime so just be wary of that (I read the manga so sometimes I am unsure). But please enjoy, feel free to comment (it's encouraged because it helps me stay motivated), and welcome back to the series!

            “Hello, darling,” said Sebastian, smiling at (Y/N) as he finished plating Ciel’s afternoon tea. On the tray lay a letter from the Queen, the seal easily recognizable.

            “My love,” said (Y/N), letting him pull them in for a light kiss. “Sneaking kisses in the halls? How scandalous.”

            “But you tempt me so,” said Sebastian with a smirk. “How can I resist?”

            (Y/N) let out a light laugh before turning around to walk with him towards Ciel’s office. Since their confession, the pair of demons had been quite satisfied together. They doubted the humans knew they were together, but they didn’t care. Their connection was different than humans’, their relationship didn’t follow the rules set by the ruling class.

            Besides, (Y/N) and Sebastian were singularly minded demons. Sebastian still had a job to do, and (Y/N) was entertained enough to continue helping him. Having a relationship merely added to their enjoyment of existence together in the otherwise monotonous, dull living and contracts.

            What was a little fun with the demon they love if not adding spice to existence?

            Sebastian knocked lightly on Ciel’s office door, and Ciel acknowledged their arrival. (Y/N) opened the door, and Sebastian rolled in the cart. Pleased with himself as usual, Sebastian announced the day’s tea and cake combination. He also offered Ciel the letter from the Queen, but Ciel opted to eat his sweet treat before attending to business. Sebastian and (Y/N) suppressed amused smirks at Ciel pushing back work in favor of treats.

            Finaly, Ciel unsealed the letter.

            “ ‘To my dear boy,’ ” he read. “ ‘The Campania incident was a frightful calamity. Have you already recovered? Are you enjoying your Easter? For my part, though Easter is here at long last, I find myself unable to whole-heartedly enjoy the holiday as there is something that weighs upon my mind.

            “I am worried about Derrick, the son of my cousin Duke Clemens. Derrick is in the fifth form at Weston College. But for some reason, it seems he has not returned home since last summer. He used to write home every day, but his letters abruptly stopped as well…The anxious duchess has called at his house, but he refuses to return home and so on. If it was Derrick alone, we might chalk it up to a rebellious phase. However, other students have also not returned home. I wonder what in the world could have brought about this behavior.

            “Because his only son is acting thusly, Duke Clemens continues to lose heart…The whole affair has me very concerned indeed. I pray my loved ones can enjoy Easter in high, peaceful spirits as soon as possible. Victoria.’ ”

            Sebastian considered. “So, in short, Her Majesty has charged you to investigate the reason why students have failed to return home from Weston College.”

            Ciel nodded. “Public schools are independent institutions that refuse all government intervention, so it’s hard to lay a finger on them. Rather, those involved with the school don’t want to publicize their internal circumstances by making waves.”

            Sebastian raised a brow. “Worrying about appearances even at a time like this. My, my, this is why humans are so tiring.”

            “You understand vanity quite well,” said (Y/N), smirking.

            “I am one hell of a butler,” said Sebastian. “Of course I must act accordingly.”

            (Y/N) simply looked at him in amusement.

            Nearly rolling his eyes at their obvious flirting—Ciel was not nearly as oblivious as the other servants—Ciel spoke. “I’d like someone to infiltrate the school, but Weston usually only lets in the sons of aristocrats. Those with titles are few, and I’m acquainted with most of them. If it comes down to sneaking in, a disguise would be dangerous.”

            “So you will go as yourself?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “I have no choice,” said Ciel, taking a sip of his tea. “And I certainly wouldn’t mind having the Queen in my debt. The problem lies not in whether or not there’s an open place at Weston.”

            “If there is none, you simply need to make one,” remarked Sebastian with a light smirk.

            “I’ll handle the investigation within the school,” said Ciel. “Sebastian, (Y/N), you will have to support me without being discovered yourself. How you go about it is up to you.”

            Sebastian and (Y/N) bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

            (Y/N) knew that that order—“up to you”—would be put to good, entertaining use.

l

            “What is our plan for assisting the Young Master?” said (Y/N), sitting down in the library of the Phantomhive Mansion.

            “You do not think we will simply lurk in the shadows until needed?” said Sebastian. “It would give us quite a few private moments.”

            “As lovely as that possibility is, I suspect you have more planned,” said (Y/N), leaning their head on their hand with a sharp grin.

            “Perceptive as ever,” said Sebastian, pleased at (Y/N)’s acumen. “I feel we can better keep an eye on the situation and gather our own information as housemasters.” As adults in the college, they would be able to go places at times students weren’t—imperative for investigations.

            “Playing professors?” (Y/N) considered. “I haven’t done that yet, and I rarely play a masculine role. It sounds fun.”

            “I’m certain you’ll do wonderfully,” said Sebastian. “And I look forward to seeing in a more masculine role.” He knew for damn sure he’d be just as attracted to them no matter what form they took—he loved who they were, not their appearance. That meant little to demons.

            He tilted his head. “However…we should try to craft the proper disguise for your role.” Sebastian put his hand on his chest. “I have the perfect outfit for myself, but we shall have to see how you look.”

            “I can look masculine,” said (Y/N).

            “You can,” agreed Sebastian. “But I want you to look dashing, not just masculine.” He smirked. “Come alone, darling.”

            “You’re doing this to play dress up,” said (Y/N), smirking as they stood to follow him.

            “Or to undress you,” said Sebastian.

            “You’re insatiable.”

            “Positively gluttonous~”

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            “I think robes would add to the outfit,” said Sebastian as he finished buttoning (Y/N)’s vest.

            They rolled their eyes. “I can’t wear a professor’s robes until I am hired. This is enough, I’m sure.”

            They wore a dark grey button-up with black pants, a black vest, a tie, and a coat overtop (which would become robes if hired). Around (Y/N)’s neck hung a silver cross. Some religious figures would claim the demons wouldn’t be able to handle the holy symbol, but they would be wrong. Unless being used with some sort of religious or divine magic, they were fine wearing it. In fact, (Y/N) and Sebastian knew that being religious would help them get the jobs as housemaster and assistant—they’d be seen as intelligent, well-rounded individuals.

            “You do look quite handsome,” said Sebastian, brushing a hand over (Y/N)’s hair fondly. They had altered it slightly, too, in order to fall in a traditionally masculine style (the length would never matter, though, since men like Viscount Druitt were as respect as Lord Midford, it was just the styling to present more masculine). “However, we could run a test.”

            “Go on,” said (Y/N), smirking. They were looking forward to learning what Sebastian was suggesting.

            Sebastian stepped out of the room and called down the hall. “Mey-Rin, come here, please.”

            “Of course, Mr. Sebastian!” said Mey-Rin, running down the hall. She, unsurprisingly, tripped, but Sebastian caught her and set her upright before she could knock anything over.

            “Really, Mey-Rin, you must be more careful,” tutted Sebastian.

            “S-Sorry, I am,” said Mey-Rin sheepishly, red as usual.

            “Now that you’re here, I need you to see someone,” said Sebastian.

            “Is it a guest?” said Mey-Rin nervously.

            “If you’d like to classify them as so,” said Sebastian, his words avoiding a lie with practiced ease. He stepped to the side, and (Y/N) stepped into their masculine role.

            “Hello, Mey-Rin,” said (Y/N), smirking.

            Mey-Rin’s eyes widened, and a heavy blush appeared on her cheek’s like it did when she faced Sebastian. Obviously, she found this masc form of (Y/N)’s quite attractive (and who could blame her?)

            “Oh, uh, sir, uh, h-hello! Nice to meet you!” She bowed awkwardly and ran off.

            (Y/N) watched her in amusement. “I barely changed my form, and yet that’s the reaction I got.” They smirked at Sebastian. “I think this disguise will work perfectly. Humans always do love a nice face and figure~”

            “They do indeed,” said Sebastian.

            “And I know another being who likes to look at me,” teased (Y/N).

            Sebastian smirked with sharp teeth, not caring in the slightest to look away.

            “Now that we have our plans,” said (Y/N), continuing on, “We should ensure there are…job openings for us.” They glanced at Sebastian. “Don’t you agree?”

            “Indeed,” said Sebastian. “I’m sure there will be an opportunity quite soon.”

            They shared devilish grins which promised murder. They were going to have fun at Weston College.

l

            “Heave-ho!”

            The students of Sapphire Owl House threw their arms up, and Ciel was tossed up by the white sheet. It was an unusual welcome party (though Ciel had worried about hazing), but Weston College was already proving a bit…strange anyways.

            “Well, how do you like the traditional welcome of our house?” said Clayton, grinning. “Devote yourself to your studies all the more as a member of Sapphire Owl house, do you hear? Okay! Toss him higher next. One, two—”

            “What is the meaning of all this racket?” snapped an authoritative voice.

            “Dash it all!” cried one boy.

            “It’s the Housemasters!” said another, freezing as they realized they were caught.

            Ciel rolled haphazardly from the sheet to the ground with a yelp.

            “Clayton,” said a second calm, though commanding, voice. “An upperclassman such as you is involved in this? I’m ashamed.”

            “Explain yourself.”

            “Well, er, this is our house tradition…” said Clayton, formal as ever but a bit hesitant.

            “My, my, tradition is all well and good, but try not to overdo it.”

            Ciel looked up while someone knelt before him.

            “So you’re the new Phantomhive boy.” (Y/N) smiled at him with a hand outstretched. “Hello, I am Assistant Housemaster Noir.” Now their outfit was completed with robes instead of a jacket.

            “And I am Housemaster Michaelis,” said Sebastian, dressed in his own set of housemaster robes. His hair was pushed back, and glasses balanced on his face. He smiled. “Welcome to Sapphire Owl House.”

            Ciel’s eyebrow twitched. So this was how they planned to get in to Weston College. Ciel hated Sebastian as a teacher, and now he was stuck with him.

            Demons.

l

            Ciel, Sebastian, and (Y/N)’s time at Weston College commenced and was as British as it could be. It was a highly regulated school that raised its students into diligent workers and well-rounded men while also catering to aristocrats. Now, they tried to teach diligence by having the boys do certain chores occasionally, but when Ciel had to clean the dining hall…It of course became Sebastian and (Y/N)’s chores instead of Ciel’s.

            “Sebastian,” he called, pulling off his eyepatch.

            In an instant, Sebastian appeared beside him, and (Y/N) only took a moment longer to follow Sebastian.

            “Right here,” said Sebastian.

            “Already calling upon help? My, not even a day has passed,” said (Y/N).

            Ciel ignored the teasing and faced them with his hands on his hips. “It seems that Derrick has been transferred to another house.”

            “We did check the student roll and found the same information,” said Sebastian, flipping the clipboard paper over. “His name is on the list of Violet Wolf residents.”

            “An abrupt change,” said (Y/N). Their nose twitched. They didn’t trust it.

            “He should be at his house now,” said Ciel. “I’ll go there directly, so you tidy up here.”

            “Very good, sir,” said Sebastian, bowing as Ciel ran out of the room.

            “Now, then,” said (Y/N), taking off their long robes and surveying the mess in the dining room. “To work, Sebastian?”

            “To work,” confirmed Sebastian.

            He smirked. They were about to clean this room so well that it would be inhuman. (Poor Ciel was going to be heralded as an excellent cleaner and be asked to do it more often. He’d hate that, and what was Sebastian to do if not make some small irritation for his master?)

l

            Sure enough, once the dining room was spotless and Ciel had returned (unsuccessful) from Violet Wolf, he was giving great praise by Clayton at the amazing job he’d done cleaning.

            “Mr. Michaelis, Mr. Noir!” said Clayton as he spotted the housemasters. “Please feast your eyes on the dining hall! Phantomhive put it in order.” He patted an irritated, exhausted Ciel on the shoulder.”

            “Nice work, Phantomhive,” said Sebastian with an innocent smile while Ciel glared at him.

            “Truly an excellent job,” said (Y/N).

            “You, too, sirs,” said Ciel, gritting his teeth. Then, he paused. He could use this to his advantage. He needed to get close to the Prefects, and since Clayton was Bluewer’s Drudge…he needed to get close to Clayton.

            “I’m very glad to hear that my work pleases you so!” said Ciel, suddenly grinning brightly. He put on a performance of boyish gratitude and eagerness. “You see, I’m actually quite good at housekeeping and such!” He saluted. “So, please, Clayton, consider me at your service whenever you need aaanything done.”

            What a brat, offering up our services, thought (Y/N). That being said, his manipulation of others was entertaining. They supposed it was a fair tradeoff.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@iamsexytrash

@oceansfloor

@sarkzjam

@temporarilyablog

@elaemae

@urlocalsabito

@roo024

@ittomain1

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Light My Love -II - T.Nott

Series Summary - Follow Y/N as she navigated the wizarding world on her own, starting from her first year, all the way through to her seventh. As she falls in love and get her heart broken, how a certain friend is always there to mend her broken heart even though his is slowly getting broken in the process.

Chapter Summary - It's exam season before the Winter break and Y/N receives help from someone unexpected. Spending nearly every night awake studying for the exams, she is quite exhausted. Theo takes note of this and helps her out. After a long night of studying, the Slytherin boys see something rather interesting related to their dear friend Y/N.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader(eventual)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

Series Warnings - Blood purity, dark wizards, Reader is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pining, angst, reader will have some shitty boyfriends, Female Reader, use of Y/N

Chapter Warnings - Female Reader, use of Y/N, mentions of food and eating, poorly written angst, crying, rough parent-child relationship, profanity

Author's Note - Welcome to part 2 of this series! I will be creating a masterlist for this series after I post this so keep an eye out! I will link it when it's done!

Word Count - 1479

My full Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My requests are open!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It had taken her a few days to go back to normal but with the help of Theo and Draco, she was fine. Her mother had a certain affect on her, she knew just how to hurt her daughter. Draco understood this, his father was the exact same way, Theo’s father the same as well. That was the way the Death Eaters worked, they were harsh on their families especially with having to lay low as the dark lord was gone.

Her grade in Quirrell’s class improved with the unexpected help of Hermione Granger. She was not only Y/N’s academic rival but also Theo’s. She was willing to help the Slytherin despite the friends of the girl. She was back to acing all of her classes, buying some limited edition books as a thank you to Hermione.

It was the end of November, the autumn air getting colder as snow started falling from the sky, coating the Scottish Highlands. Exams were quickly approaching, the stress of another thing placed atop her shoulders. She had just managed to get her grade up in her worst class but now she was pulling all-nighters in the library or the common room studying. 

Her friends had taken note of the change in her, how she was always tired and sluggish, she was constantly falling asleep in class and just overall dull. She had lost her sparkle and charisma due to the long nights of studying. All of her friends were worried but Theo had taken the cake, he was acting like her little servant. Anything she wanted, he went and got for her. Anytime she needed a break, he was there to entertain her. Anytime she needed help on an assignment, he was right there guiding her to the correct answer. 

She was grateful to have someone like Theodore Nott in her life. He may have been a loner, but he was always happy to be with her, to help her with whatever she needed.

The weeks of studying had flown by and exam week was finally here. Her first one was arguably the easiest, Potions. She was able to pass the exam no problem, getting the best grade in the class. Right after she did her potions exam she had to do her exam for History of Magic. She was a bit nervous for this one, getting a pep talk from Draco and Theo right before.

“You have the best grade in the class, you’re going to pass the exam with no issue! If anyone is going to fail it’s going to be Draco,” Theo assured her.

“Hey!” Draco protested, “I’m not going to fail! It’s probably going to be Weasley who fails, he always sleeps in class.”

“So do you!” Y/N pointed out with a giggle causing the two boys to share a victorious look. Theo ushered the three of them inside the classroom, taking their seats in the back. Once all of the exams were given out and the papers were flipped over, her confidence skyrocketed. She knew every single question and knew the answers like the back of her hand. Some of the questions even pertained to her extended family, like the Gaunt family. 

She was the first one to finish and turn in her exam. She waited outside the class as her friends were still inside taking the test. It wasn’t until the end of the hour that the two boys came out, relieved looks on their faces for finally finishing the exam. They made their way to dinner together, stress eating more sweets than actual food before making their way back to the common room. 

She took her usual place next to the large window outlooking the depths of the Black Lake, pulling out her study guides and flashcards for the next exams. Theo sat beside her as he always did, asking her the questions on her flashcards and waiting to hear her answers, which were usually all right. Midnight quickly approached, the two of them half asleep, Theo coaxing her into calling it a night.

“C’mon bellissima, it’s late, we should go to bed,” He yawned out, rubbing his eyes gently as he did so. 

“Five more minutes?” She begged him, a pout on her face. She looked at him with a sparkle in her eye and a hint of a smile covered by the pout.

“It’s already midnight, principessa. Let’s go to bed, we can wake up early and get back to it.”

“But Theo, I really need to pass these exams. Just five more minutes, please?” He couldn’t say no again, not with the look on her pretty face. He was slipping, letting out a groan as he finally gave in. 

“Fine, five more minutes. No more than that, got it?” She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before they continued to study. His cheeks turned pink as he looked down at the next flashcard. “What is the incantation for the levitation spell?”

“Wingardium Leviosa! Easy!”

The rest of the Slytherin house was quiet, the only two awake were Y/N and Theo, sitting in front of the window as he asked her questions and she answered. Their study session lasted much longer than five minutes. The next thing they knew, their housemates were all waking up and filing into the common room. Theo looked at the time before letting out a gasp. 

“Oh Salazar! We’ve been awake for 24 hours! You said five more minutes!” Theo realised with a groan. He wasn’t mad at her in the slightest but she felt guilty.

“I’m so sorry Theo. I didn’t even realise the time until everyone started to wake. Go to your dorm to rest a bit before the day actually starts, please. I can finish up by myself,” She rambled guiltily.

“It’s okay, principessa. If I’m going to rest, you’re coming with me. You need rest too, you know?” Theo teased her, causing a smile to take over her face. He stood up, offering her his hand which she gladly took. Theo helped her up and led her to his room that he shared with Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo. The four boys still in the room and wide awake, sending teasing remarks to the pair. “Oh shove off, we just spent all night studying in the common room. We’re just going to rest here through breakfast,” Theo defended the two of them.

“Good, you both look like death incarnate. I’ve never seen dark circles that were nearly black,” Mattheo teased before heading out of the room. The three others bid the pair goodbye and the promise of getting them up after breakfast was over. 

Y/N and Theo climbed into his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. They slept all the way through breakfast and the first 2 hours of classes which thankfully were cancelled. Draco, Blaise and Enzo sticking true to their word of waking the pair up when it was time for the first class of the day. It was exam day for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The two of them woke up with a start when they heard screaming, bumping their heads together and groaning in pain. The three boys laughed at the two as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. “That was hilarious! I wish we got a video of that!” Blaise laughed.

“Fuck off Zabini!” Y/N groaned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed before standing. “I swear you guys have better beds than the girls. My bed feels like a rock,” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt riding up revealed an interesting scar on her abdomen. It was almost identical to the scar on Harry Potter’s forehead, just slightly larger.

“Where’d you get the scar from?” Draco asked with curiosity.

“None of your business, Draco. I’m gonna go back to my dorm to get ready,” She snapped before rushing out of the room quickly.

“Am I the only one who saw it? It looked like Potter’s scar,” he mentioned to the three other boys.

“I saw it too, I wonder if she got it in a similar way. An unforgivable curse backfiring but leaving her with a scar? It’s possible, right?” Enzo theorised before shaking his head, “Nevermind, just let her come to us about it. It’s better that way than us trying to figure out where it came from.” With that, Enzo and Blaise left the room to make their way to Flitwick’s class. 

“You think her parents did that?” Theo asked, his voice deeper and laced with sadness just thinking about it.

“I mean probably. You know how her mum is, she’s a terrible woman and her father is a terrible man. I can only imagine what she goes through being stuck in that house day in and day out.”

Taglist:

@bigsimperika @melllinaa @chgrch @the-girl-who-simps-too-much

[missmonsters2]

—NIGHTHAWK | EIGHT

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: The Poe Cup race has long passed and Wednesday actively tries to ignore the bet she's made. She may have won, but why does it feel like she's been defeated? She may be able to ignore it during the day, but not so much at night.

Warnings: Wednesday laments over planning a date. Enid is exasperated. Thing, our lovely messenger. Xavier gets threatened with jail. Mother!Weems

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: Wednesday: I will threaten you with a horrible time—wait, no not like that.

Part Seven

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighthawk: Noun. A recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks, her voice dull but tinged with a hint of annoyance.

You look at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I know you're trying to write."

Wednesday sighs, letting the ire settle away. After all, this was your room. But Wednesday had taken your words about coming here for some peace and quiet last week seriously and brought her typewriter the next day to your room, and it's been there ever since. 

Wednesday actively doesn't think about what it could mean that she'd been moving her stuff over into your room slowly because, at the very least, she still goes back to her own to sleep at night. 

She actively doesn't think about anything to do with you during the day.

"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks again, her face unimpressed with how you've shuffled your coffee table, the inside of your closet, and how you've been eyeing your bed as if it was next.

You purse your lips as if debating whether or not to tell Wednesday the reason, but when she pinches her eyebrows at you, her gaze becoming more narrow, you relent. 

"I thought it'd be nice to have more room..." you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck.

"You've already optimized the space to its full potential," Wednesday raises her brow at you. "You won't be getting anything more unless you start throwing away things and you own nothing like the miserable orphan you are."

You can't help but laugh.

"I was thinking of giving away the coffee table," you admit with a smile. "One of the gorgon girls in the woodworking class said she could make me an extendable coffee table that I could fit into my closet."

"Why have you asked her? It is doubtful her skills would be superior to mine."

"Because you're not taking woodworking and it would have to be an extracurricular activity to do outside of class, and I feel like there's more interesting things you could be working on," you point out, giving up on rearranging and sitting on your bed.

"Like what exactly?" Wednesday flatly asks, her gaze studying your fictitious nonchalant face. 

"Do you like horror movies?" You ask instead of answering Wednesday's question, which makes the gothic girl's mouth twitch in annoyance. 

"If you're asking if they scare me, then no," Wednesday answers succinctly, with a tilt of her chin. "But I do enjoy watching them if they're done well."

"Me too," you tell her. "I mean, they do kind of scare me but I also kind of enjoy the feeling because then that means the movie was good."

There's a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lip, too quick for you to see. 

"Which ones have you seen?" Wednesday asks, curious about what your tastes are. "Which ones terrify you the most?" Her eyes are glinting. 

"Not too many," you give her an amused smile. "Remember, I didn't really have access to the internet for entertainment, and I'm not really one for watching it by myself." 

You sit in thought, and Wednesday waits in anticipation. This was the kind of information that Wednesday had been waiting for because it was difficult to gauge what you were afraid of. 

"I think maybe paranormal movies?" You say, your tone lifting at the end like you were unsure.

Wednesday's face fell. "You're scared of ghosts?" She asks, thoroughly unimpressed. 

"Hey," you kick her foot lightly with your own. "How are you supposed to fight something that is already dead? They clearly already have the upperhand."

Wednesday lifts her hands and starts counting on her fingers. "Rituals, spiritual artifacts, using a psychic, destroy whatever is holding their attachment here, become a ghost yourself and—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," you laugh. "I still find them unsettling, though."

"Ridiculous," Wednesday scowls with distaste. "There are far more horrifying and interesting genres."

"Well," you say lightly, and Wednesday looks into your eyes. They gaze into her like they want to draw her in and send a secret message. "Guess you'll have to show me one of these days."

Wednesday wants to ignore the secret message. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You'll have to show me one of these days."

The words kept repeating in Wednesday's mind, torturing her while she tried to sleep. Usually, it'd be lovely, but Wednesday would've preferred that it was her nightly sleep paralysis afflicting her instead. 

Wednesday had successfully ignored the fact she had won the bet of winning the Poe Cup race. It makes her irate that she’s won yet she feels like she’s been defeated. At least during the day, she was able to ignore it. At night, it haunted her and cost her sleep. 

On top of that, Wednesday was still looking into what her vision could possibly mean. During the day, she spent all her time analyzing you, searching for clues that you might turn on her just like Tyler had. It would be just her luck to have it happen to her a second time. 

But while Wednesday could see something lurking underneath your mask you put on to others, and even sometimes to her, you seemed mindful about the pace to be close. It was different from Tyler, who constantly made it known exactly what he wanted from Wednesday and that he wanted it immediately. 

Wednesday had been snooping around, hoping to trigger another vision, but nothing had come; therefore, she was at a dead end. She supposes she could just bring the issue to your attention and hear your thoughts, but for some unknown reason, she was reluctant. 

"You'll have to show me one of these days."

Damn it all, Wednesday sighs with force.

The task at hand was overdue, and Wednesday wonders if you wonder if she'll keep her word and plan this...date. The idea of being thought of as someone who couldn't keep their vows was disconcerting and disgusting.

This was ridiculous, Wednesday thinks as she removes her covers and sits up. So utterly ridiculous.  

Wednesday Addams never backed away from a challenge, and she was most definitely someone who kept all her threats and promises. 

She grabs a piece of paper, neatly scribbling words onto it before she tosses the pen to the side. 

"Thing," she whispers, even though nearly nothing could wake Enid at this hour. The disembodied hand gets up from his resting place and scuttles quietly over to her. 

"Drop this off and bring me a reply," she tells him. 

He looks at the note and starts signing words to her.

"Yes, what's wrong with what I said? It is succinct."

Thing makes a show of being exasperated with her using his fingers but takes the note and scurries off. 

Wednesday doesn't return to bed, waiting impatiently for Thing to return with her arms crossed, her index tapping her inner arm. It's minutes before the hand returns with a note in return.

"Was she awake?" Wednesday asks, and Thing indicates that you were. He passes her the note.

Wednesday grins, but it looks maniacal.

'Are you threatening me with a date? I thought you'd never ask.'

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sounds of Wednesday typing lull you through your headphones. It's a consistent sound, and the only break is when the sound of Wednesday returning the carriage as the page hits the end. 

It was late at night, and it was unlikely for either of you to go out again. Since it's just the two of you in your room, you have your wings out, carefully preening the feathers with your fingers. The scars were healing nicely, but any forceful exertion would make them split open again, and you were not keen on that happening. You're also pretty sure Wednesday would be disgruntled with you if you did as well.

"How are your wings?" Wednesday asks as she takes a break from her writing.

"Sore," you admit, ruffling them lightly. "I can't really stretch them without re-opening the wounds, and they're usually hidden inside my back most days."

"I've been meaning to ask how that works," Wednesday stares at you while you gently massage the sore areas, being very careful of how far your stretch.

"I wish I could explain, but I really can't," you shrug. "It's just innate in faeries to be able to hide their wings. How does it all fit? I'm not sure, really. Most likely evolution and fae magic."

You were really focused, seemingly annoyed with where you couldn't reach. 

"Do you want assistance?" Wednesday offers. 

You freeze for a moment, looking up at Wednesday. The idea of Wednesday's fingers going under the feathers and pressing her fingers carefully against your wing was...a lot.

"Oh, uh," you remove your fingers from your flight appendages. "No, it's okay."

"Why?" Wednesday raises her brow. "You're clearly struggling. Do you not trust me to handle your wings carefully?"

"No, no, it's not that," you correct immediately. You sigh for a moment, feeling the heat rise to your ears. "It's just..." you shift on the bed. "You know my wings are sensitive."

Wednesday nods. "And I will be meticulous."

"It's not that," you mutter, feeling warm. "You massaging them...touching them...like that..." your voice trails, and you feel slightly mortified. This was so embarrassing.

Wednesday seems to catch on immediately, and her back goes straight and rigid. "I see." Her voice is brisk.

"Yeah," you say quickly back. "It's, you know...just ticklish," you say to avoid the awkwardness, but you both know it's not quite that. 

Wednesday just nods, not pushing to offer her help further, but there is a curious look in her eyes. You don't dwell on it as you check your watch.

"Oh, shit," you sigh as you stand, gently brushing the last of your feathers with your fingers. 

"What?" Wednesday asks with a frown, watching your wings disappear. 

"Larissa is leaving for some conference. It's apparently a long trip and she needs to drive out tonight."

Wednesday recalls Weems mentioning her absence for the weekend and a group of teachers being in charge, but there was hardly a need for concern as it was the weekend.

"I have to go see her off," you tell Wednesday. "It'll probably be a couple of minutes. Are you going to stay here writing?"

"I will be finished in a couple of minutes as well," Wednesday says. "I will be returning to my dorm room for the night. I have preparations to finish."

"Preparations, you say?" A sly smile on your lips that Wednesday rolls her eyes at. 

Since that night after the Poe Cup race, there haven't been any kisses. Wednesday's still figuring out what to make of it all. You seem content with how things are, and Wednesday was slowly studying her own desires and how to handle them accordingly. Sometimes, Wednesday thinks it was easier kissing a serial killer.

At least with the serial killer, she didn’t have to do any date planning. But since she was, she was going to do every single part of it correctly and perfectly. Wednesday mindlessly thinks she’s probably been driving Enid insane and feels gleeful at the thought.

The sly smile turns soft, the rarity that only belonged to Wednesday. You lean over and faintly kiss her on the cheek, and your warm lips tinge Wednesday's cool skin. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

You leave Wednesday sitting in your room with a soft click of the door, heading out to the front gates. There are still some students wandering about, and you give them friendly, light smiles with a short wave of your hand as they greet you. 

Inwardly, you sigh. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I'm very serious," Weems gives you a stern look. "If there's anything wrong, you're to go to the nurse immediately. Don't think I've gotten over the last incident you had with the gorgon girls."

"I told you it was an accident!" You sigh almost dramatically. "They're nice girls! They're just...enthused...and strong."

Weems merely rolls her eyes but doesn't comment on it anymore. 

"I will only be gone for the weekend, I should be back Sunday night. It will be a short meeting."

"I know," you say, hiding back your sigh. "It'll be fine. I'm just going to be doing homework over the weekend."

"Right," Weems raised her brow, and an amused and wry smile graced her lips. "And by just doing homework over the weekend, you mean having a date with Miss Addams?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at Weems. "How did you know?"

Weems just makes some noncommittal noise before sighing. "My life seems to be fated to be entwined with the Addams family."

You look at her curiously, but Weems waves you off before she looks at you with a mildly uncomfortable look. "Do I need to give you the talk—"

"No!" You say immediately, cutting the principal off. Heat rises up your chest, burning the tip of your ears, and your cheeks feel hot. "It's—" you clear your throat into your fist—"it's fine. I'm good, I know."

Weems's face is slightly flushed red at the apple of her cheeks, and it makes you feel better. The two of you chuckle, letting it die into a comfortable silence. 

"I'll be home in two days," Weems repeats, softer this time. 

You nod. "Okay," your voice softer as well. It was strange, but you really did like having Weems around, despite Wednesday's grumbling about her. "Have a safe trip."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Saturday passed quickly, and Enid could not be more thankful. If there was one more annoying thing than Wednesday obsessively investigating things, it was Wednesday obsessively trying to plan a date. Her grim roommate was extra unbearable this entire week. 

Thing dropped off a note to you earlier today to meet in Wednesday's room at precisely 7PM with your laptop. While Wednesday executed her plan, Enid kept her company for most of the day. 

"I'm surprised you were able to actually cook dinner here," Enid says dryly. "I can't believe you made your own makeshift stove and didn't burn our entire room down."

"Controlled arson is child's play," Wednesday drawls. She finishes setting up a projector she's borrowed (stolen) from a classroom before setting down a blanket with some cushions. She looks at Enid. "Give me all of your pillows."

"What? Why?" Enid frowns.

"Because only I enjoy sitting on rigid and awkward angles that may give me back or neck pains later," Wednesday explains succinctly while she grabs the one pillow from her bed, tosses it on the floor, and then grabs a black fuzzy blanket.

Enid sighs, reaching for her pillows and tossing them onto the blanket. Normally, she might've denied her roommate the request, but it was clear that Wednesday was trying to make this the perfect date from the way she's been obsessing about it all week, meticulously planning and researching. 

It was endearing to watch, but Enid wouldn't say it out loud.        

"You will change the pillowcases and wash the old ones when I'm back tomorrow," Enid warns her roommate, who noncommittally nods.

Then Wednesday freezes. "You're not returning tonight?"

Enid smirks. "Nope. I'm having a sleepover with Yoko tonight." She then gives Wednesday a look. "I won't do it too often, especially since Fae has her own bedroom you guys can be doing your dates at."

"It's smaller," Wednesday mutters, even though she knows it would've been fine to do it at your place. But Wednesday chose to do it in their own room so that she could rely on Enid returning in the worst-case scenario where the date was a failure.

Wednesday checks the time on her wrist and finds she has no time to make adjustments now. It was 6:55PM, and you'd be arriving soon. 

"Leave," Wednesday dismisses Enid, who sighs at her roommate's callousness but still wishes her good luck as she goes to find her vampire best friend along with Thing.

Time ticks slowly as Wednesday checks to ensure the sea witch paella she made is still warm. She does a final review of all her preparations and stands near the door. 

Wednesday wouldn't describe herself as nervous, but she does feel an uncomfortable pressure in her chest and something twisting in her stomach.

It's nauseating and exhilarating.

7:00PM. 

Wednesday waits, telling herself that while it's annoying that people are not customarily on time, it's not abnormal. 

7:05PM.

You were late, but Wednesday isn't worried. You aren't typically late to things, but there's been an occasional time she'll catch you out of breath running to class or to their nightly meet-up.

7:15PM.

Irritated.

Now Wednesday is irritated with how inconsiderate you were being and plans to make you reiterate what you were doing every single minute to be late. She knows you know the time to meet was 7PM. When Thing dropped off her note to you, you also provided a note back saying, 'You have such a way with words. See you at 7PM sharp then.'

A liar is what you are, Wednesday thinks with a downward curl of her lips. Wednesday pinches the bridge of her nose, annoyed at the fact that she has a stupid phone that is utterly useless. She wanted to throttle both Xaiver and Enid for endlessly praising how useful it was to have one. 

7:30PM.

Wednesday clenches her jaw as she blows out the candles and turns off her makeshift stove. She's vexed, but a larger part of her doesn't believe you'd not show up. The vision Wednesday had during the Poe Cup race appears, and she briskly strides out of her room.

Not in your room.

Not in any of the classrooms.

Not in the garden.

Not in the cafeteria.

Not in the library.

"Addams," Bianca greets with a raise of her brow. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

Wednesday stops as Bianca approaches her. "You knew?" Her eyes narrow.

Bianca rolls her eyes, her blue eyeshadow accentuating her eyes. "Of course. Fae briefly mentioned it in the afternoon with a sickeningly happy look on her face. Can't say I see the charm of being on a date with you, but I digress."

"So you did see her earlier then?" Wednesday asks pointedly, ignoring everything else the siren said. 

Bianca raises a brow slowly at Wednesday's behavior. "I did, but she left for her studio about two hours ago. Why?"

Wednesday doesn't bother answering, walking past Bianca with haste.

There was only one place left to check, and Wednesday expected you to be there. You had better be sitting in your studio, having lost track of time, and Wednesday would berate you. But you'd be there to apologize, and they could salvage what was left of their date, and Wednesday would pointedly remind you that it was your fault their food was cold. They'd watch their horror movie as planned, and it wouldn't matter if it'd be late into the night because Enid wasn't coming back anyway.

Because if you weren't there, Wednesday would certainly kill someone. 

"Wednesday!" Bianca calls as she strides to catch up to Wednesday as they pass the Quad, grabbing the attention of Enid, Yoko, Xavier, and Eugene. 

"Wednesday!" Enid calls after her best friend, but she ignores it, walking with a distinct purpose to your studio. Enid and everyone else get up with haste to follow after their friend. "Wednesday, where's Fae?"

The familiar tree trunk comes into view, and she does the same sequence of action she always does to enter, not caring that she looks insane.

"What are you doin—where'd she go?" Eugene asks, his eyes narrowing as if that would allow him to see Wednesday again.

"It must be a fae realm," Bianca deducts, thinking back to her conversations with you. "Sirens have something similar. She must've created one out of her studio. Just follow what Wednesday did."

One by one, they repeat the actions, and Enid is the last to go through. And when she enters, she finds Wednesday a few feet away from her, eyes narrowed with her jaw clenched.

They don't have time to take in the space and view, as amazing as it is. 

"This isn't right," Wednesday grits out, her hands forming into fists. "This isn't the studio."

It looks perfect—neat and tidy. 

Untouched.

"What do you mean?" Bianca asks as she looks around. "This has to be Fae's studio, I can see her belongings. Look—these are the vases and pots she made in pottery class."

Wednesday's eyes move to look at the three pottery pieces Bianca is pointing at sitting in a cluster on the coffee table. They weren't perfect, a little wobbly, and you had laughed when Wednesday pointed out every imperfection and questioned why you even let them go into the bisque firing to set. 

But you said you liked how they were very clearly flawed and still worked without a hitch. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary, and they were most definitely yours. 

The only problem was that earlier today, Wednesday had come into your studio while you were studying. You had given Wednesday a strange look but asked no questions as she grabbed the soft, fuzzy black blanket you favored. You bought it in town recently after Wednesday started to help you apply the salve, picking black specifically because you hadn't known Wednesday like you do now and heard she was allergic to color. 

It was for the cooler nights, not that the cold ever bothered Wednesday, but it didn't stop you from carefully draping the blanket over her. Now, it was in preparation for tonight's date when they were watching horror movies.

Yet, the soft black, fuzzy blanket in her room was also folded neatly on a shelf inside a trunk-turned rack. Which also wasn't where Wednesday had taken it from earlier today.

"This is weird, though," Enid mutters, inhaling deeply through her nose.

"What?" Yoko asks as she takes off her glasses and looks around. 

"Wednesday, you said you and Fae are here pretty frequently, right? I thought you came here earlier."

Wednesday nods rigidly. 

"That's weird," Enid ponders, tilting her head. "I can barely smell you and Fae in this place. It's like...very stale. Months old, at least."

"Wait," Eugene furrows his brows. "How is that even possible?"

Xavier looks in deep thought, holding his chin as he thinks, but Wednesday already knows. Especially after Enid confirmed the scent. 

It all leads to one conclusion. 

This wasn't your studio, or more accurately—you and Wednesday haven't been in your real studio for some time.

"Is there anyone in this school that has Fae's number?" Xavier asks, and it makes the room tense. "Does she have Snapchat or anything that could show her location?

Bianca shakes her head. "No, she doesn't have any social media and she hasn't even given me her number, not that I think it would be useful, anyway. She's never on her phone except to watch her shows or read. Half the time, I'm convinced she probably just leaves it lying around."

"We...we should contact Weems, right?" Eugene asks as he looks at everyone. 

"Even if we do, Weems won't make it back until the morning, at least," Xavier points out. "But we should."

You were missing.

No, you've been taken.

The thought felt hollow, like Wednesday couldn't believe it. It only lasted a second before pure, unadulterated fury filled her. It was like a hot white ball forming in her chest, making her clench her jaw, barely able to contain the noise she wanted to let out. 

Wednesday hadn't been watching for you just half a day, planning this ridiculous date that you had been so stupidly excited for, and you were taken.

Wednesday can only blame herself. 

She blames herself for so many things. 

Indulging you.

Indulging herself.

She should've never agreed to this date—she should've never agreed to you. 

Why couldn't she just have dismissed you as another passing curiosity? Why couldn't she have just gotten what she needed to know and left you? You should've been nothing more than a passing, disturbing thought.

It would have saved her from feeling so wretched now. 

"Wednesday," Enid says softly. She lifts her hand to gently touch her roommate but thinks better of it when she practically smells the anger radiating off the grim-looking girl. "Wednesday," Enid repeats instead, "We need to find her."

"Of course," Wednesday snaps, unable to even comprehend that she was snapping at the wrong person. "Spread out and start searching every corner of this inane institute."

Xavier looks upset. "Wednesday, you shouldn't look alone—" 

"Go, or I will unapologetically send you to jail for a second time," Wednesday cuts off, threatening the tall, lanky boy with a glare. 

Bianca grabs the sleeve at his elbow, dragging him out while the others follow. 

Thing is the only one left with Wednesday, and he stands on top of the table, waiting for Wednesday to say something. 

Wednesday's jaw is clenched, and her hands are closed in tight fists. 

The problem was that Wednesday did indulge herself, and now you were hers, even if she refused to say it out loud. 

You. Are. Hers. 

You were hers to make pay for making her feel so wretched over you. 

"Thing," Wednesday bites out. "Bring anything personal of hers. Bring me anything that looks out of place."

The mystery brought her obsessive personality up to the front, and she would solve it.

Wednesday was going to find you—because you were hers—and she would slowly maim whoever had taken you.

PART 9

[infoglitch]

Falling dusk (a Lancaster story)

Chapter 1: a beacon in the dark.

Ruby's feet trudged through the black sand as she carried crescent Rose on her back. With jaune not to far behind as he carried crocea mors on his hip and ember Celica on his right arm.

Ruby's torn cloak billowed behind her revealing gamble shroud was attached to the back of her waist.

"how much farther until we reach beacon?" Jaune asked as his breath was ragged. Ruby kept going as jaune followed, she was completely ignoring him.

"ruby! Are you listening?" Jaune spoke again as Ruby kept walking her once silver eyes now a dull black. Jaune grumbled softly as he managed to catch up to her and grab her shoulder.

"RUBY." He said sternly as Ruby turned to face him her eyes narrowing at him. Her face contorted into a scowl. "We have a few hundred miles left until we reach beacon, and we will still a few hundred miles when we finally leave vacuo. YOU ASKING QUESTIONS ISNT HELPING" Ruby finally answered as her voice was cold. Jaune simply looked at her and nodded.

"alright.. we will have to camp soon. How much longer do you think we can last with just our aura?" Ruby questioned the blonde as jaune sighed, closing his eyes before eventually opening them.

"we got 6 days left then our auras are drained we'll need to find more rations soon... Who knows we might find some cookies." Jaune jested but ruby just sighed and looked away.

Eventually the two set up camp as jaune sat opposed to Rwby as she had taken out her sisters scarf and held it close.

Jaune sat quiet just allowing silence to fill the void. Before finally he asked the question he knew he would ask eventually after.. after Armageddon.

"what happened to us.." jaune asked as Ruby just looked away. "Now isn't the time jaune" she would mumble.

"there is no time left rubes, we are left HERE! Time doesn't exist anymore- Life doesn't exist anymore! so- what happened to us?! We were practically linked at the hip when we started. But now- Now I can't tell if I'm even your friend anymore. Let alone your partner..." Jaune pressed on as Ruby just looked away. She didn't want to entertain this conversation.. not at all.

Jaune took a breath before sighing. "I'm just... I'm tired.. I still worry about you rubes but I'm at the point of just giving up. Everyone is gone, my sister's are gone, my parents are gone, your family is gone, all of our friends are gone. Reduced to either ash or Grimm.. I cant keep going like this-"

"I CANT KEEP GOING LIKE THIS EITHER! BUT IM NOT THE ONE BITCHING ABOUT IT!" Ruby interrupted Jaune as she stood up. Her face was only darkened by the growing shadows.

"YOU THINK I DONT WISH WE WERE BACK AT BEACON, BACK TO BEING KIDS WHO JUST WANTED TO FIGHT MONSTERS?! I DO! I do! There is never going to be a day where I hope this is all just a nightmare. That I will wake up at beacon being late to Ms. Goodwitch's class, with my sister, my teammates, my friends waiting for me! I wanna go back to the way things were just as much as you do!" Ruby continued her eyes glowing as hot tears ran down her face.

"but what the hell am I supposed to do when reality is that this is REAL. This is our destiny. To try and find the remaining relics in hopes that we can undo this or at the least stop Salem! You wanna know what happened to us?! We broke a part because you can't handle reality!" Ruby shouted out as she knew some parts of what she said were wrong but she knew the majority was right.

Jaune just sat there. As much as he wanted to protest he figured it only escalate things. And this point, things could not be allowed to escalate anymore.

"alright.." that was all jaune could mutter as Ruby just looked at him. Before she sat down.

As the two were about to just continue the rest of the night in silence a light shined in the sky.

[elizais]

elizai what do you think about the book cover of no longer human? the pink one with the black silhouette?

ARgh thank you for sending this!! one thing everyone will come to learn about me is i love analysing this type of stuff.

also i giggle when i see the cover because one time in an english lesson like 2 years ago my teacher was yapping on about how book covers have to reflect the mood of the book and she said, "for example, you won't have a sad book with a hot pink cover." and i had no longer human on my desk and she had read it bcs she runs my school's library and she bought it for me and it was my moment to shine by proving her WRONG!! she is my bff though

okay i'll do it now!

no real spoilers, i just talk about how the MC feels but if u have watched bsd with your eyes open and know a little about dazai you will get the jist of what i'm talking about.

OKAY! initially, you need to state the obvious. which is it is a human-like black figure on a hot pink background. that is essentially it. but !!! if u saw what i said about like those bsd scenes on that one reblog you know i love colour symbolism!!

so: hot pink: "playful, sociable, optimism, amusing/humorous" and if you have read the book, you know that yozo oba takes up a personality of entertaining others through his actions during his school days. attempting to be a "class clown" type. i don't own a copy of the book but if i did i would pull up quotes TRUST!!

so (younger) yozo does seem to represent these characteristics - maybe not optimism but that is up to reader's interpretation in my opinion.

but the interesting part of the cover is the figure. it takes the shape of a person, roughly at least, yet isn't defined enough. its torso is quite large in proportion to the head, the shoulders curve too easily..

and the title is "no longer human", and yozo doesn't feel human. if you are only familiar with fictional dazai, he is loosely based off of yozo oba. once you read the book, you will pick up similarities between them consistently.

but yozo doesn't feel human, so that figure on the front is just that. a figure, a symbol of the emptiness he feels inside. he knows that physically he is human, which is why as a consumer we can see that the figure resembles something like us, but he doesn't let his soul feel that way.

possibly, the torso is so disproportionate compared to the head because he is harbouring the loneliness, longing and the rest of his dull emotions within.

may i also add, we can just see these recognisable parts of a human which is how yozo feels. you can tell he is a human physically but not emotionally. as an audience, you do not form any attachment to the person on the cover as there just.. isn't much to see? which is why whoever designed it done such a good job with it. granted, i am probably thinking about this much more than they did but it is truly a fantastic cover.

as i write this, i am kicking myself for not having a copy of the book with me because i would be able to write much more for you! i do love writing analyses, so if people ask i would be more than happy to write some more if i am confident enough in them. but i think i mostly like to do them because i talk a lot and can talk about anything.

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 3.9K

Gavin woke up to the sound of his neighbour screaming outside. Judging by the shrill tones, it was a woman desperately trying to herd her children off to a dance class. They were late, as she laboured repeatedly, much to the vocal chagrin of her spawn. He groaned, grabbing his pillow and clutching it over his head. 

A chorus of low hums came from the side of his bed, and Gavin craned himself over to find the source. It was his phone, half concealed under a pile of clothes. Making a concerted effort not to tip over, he deftly retrieved the device. The exertion caused his jeans to tense, which made him painfully aware that he was still dressed from the night before.

After wiping a film of sweat from his brow, he fumbled dozily with the screen, struggling with the passcode. The fact it had gone off at all meant it was charged - which was fortunate. Less fortunate was the news that illuminated his screen.

It was 11:43am.

Gavin shot up but immediately regretted it - as a sudden wave of nausea hit him. With his head flopped on the pillow, he attempted to steel himself with a long, laboured breath. The man recalled very little of the night before, but if his queasy delirium was anything to go by, he'd certainly had a good time. As such, he tried not to dwell on the guilt of missing yet another morning run. Or failing to feed his cat at a reasonable hour. 

With the screaming match outside complete, Gavin allowed his wrist to go limp, and his phone dropped to his chest with a dull thud. He entertained the idea of trying to sleep just a bit longer. At least until the worst of his dizziness had subsided.

A new notification sent unpleasant vibrations shooting through his sternum. He tried to ignore the wayward shake, but the sensations kept coming. Glowering at the offending device, he frustratedly turned it over and found a new series of messages that had joined the procession of unread notifications:

 

Actually Decent (9) 

[11:45 am] Gav

[11:45 am] hellooooo

[11:45 am] u alive?

[11:46 am] text me back

 

After another shaky attempt, the man succeeded in unlocking his phone. While he'd intended on responding to Tina, if only to appease her demand, he was promptly derailed. He stared frozen at the screen as his heart pumped ferociously.  

 

Robo Prick

[2:55am] u have a nice smile. and a nice ass.

 

He didn't read anything else, with his eyes focused despairingly on that one damning passage. Mortified beyond belief, he began to rack his brain on how to salvage the situation. Perhaps he could convince the android that it had been a joke. Or claim that the message had been intended for someone else - 

Like Hell. Who else could it have been for? 

Holding his breath, he prepared himself for some requisite damage control. That was when he noticed the word at the beginning of the message. One that single-handedly preserved his dignity: 

 

(Draft) 

 

"Thank fuck”, Gavin whispered, releasing the breath that he had been holding. He feverishly deleted the message before it could yield any consequence.  

With the desire to release his mounting tension (and to expunge the sweat soaking his clothes), Gavin concluded it was time for a shower. Phone in hand, he hoisted himself from his bed and plodded his way out of the bedroom. Tiffany, who had been resting on the sofa, glared at his intrusion. She sprung herself from the cushions and haughtily marched to the kitchen. A series of long, demanding yowls followed. 

"Cool your tits…" He pleaded, holding his head "I'll feed ya soon. Promise."

Securing himself in his bathroom, the man stripped himself of his clothes, to which a pungent odour abruptly followed. It was the penultimate blend of poor life choices. A mixture of booze, sweat and cigarettes. Leaning over his bath to adjust the faucet, a lukewarm flow trickled pitifully from the fixture above. Slipping from his boxers, he was about to climb in when a vibration rattled the sink. 

He groaned. It was probably Tina again.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Gavin scrolled through his notifications. He did owe his friend some form of response. After all, if it wasn't for her, he probably would have spent the night in a bush. 

 

Actually Decent 

You:

still alive

didnt choke on my puke

thanks

 

It wasn't until Gavin replied that he realised the most recent notification had not, in fact, been from Tina. There was a newcomer to his inbox, and given the near miss earlier, it was probably the last person he wanted to hear from:

 

Robo-Prick 

[11:57 am] Detective Reed. I have made a breakthrough in the case. Please let me know when you have received this message so we can discuss things further - Model RK900, Serial Number 313 248 317 – 87.

Gavin grimaced at the needless formality, setting the phone back on the sink without any intention of replying. That was until another, more pressing, message popped up on the thread. 

 

Robo-Prick (2)

[11:58 am] I would like to meet in person to discuss this, should you be available. Please let me know - Model RK900, Serial Number 313 248 317 – 87.

"Son of a bitch”, He cursed under his breath, realising that Nines was not about to let this go. 

 

You: 

its my day off nines. cant it wait until monday?

also you don't need to sign your messages. i know who you are, jackass. 

 

Robo-Prick: 

You will want to hear this. I assure you, I won't take up much of your time. 

I am messaging you from my internal hub. I will try deactivating the signature, but I cannot guarantee success. 

 

You: 

those last two messages didnt have signatures. 

you know what you're doing. stop fucking with me. 

 

Robo-Prick: It would appear I have succeeded. How fortunate. 

 

Gavin slammed the phone down, in no mood to indulge his partner further. He had gotten his message across, and that was more than enough. 

Retrieving a nearby bottle of shower gel, he finally moved into the shower. Lathering himself from head to toe, he allowed the water to do the rest. As bubbles and suds trickled from his skin, he was lulled by the soft dripping of water - to which he closed his eyes. Not ready to face the burden of his neglected responsibilities, Gavin stood there, enjoying the peace, until the water turned cold. 

Turning off the faucet and leaving the bath, he grabbed a towel from a nearby rack and patted himself dry. Towel slung loosely around his waist, He moved to the next pitstop in his hungover journey.

In the kitchen, Tiffany was sat by her food bowl, glaring into it apprehensively. Gavin opened the cat food cupboard and was struck by another unpleasant violent headrush. The pain and dizziness overwhelmed him as he struggled to maintain stability. 

"Goddammit."

Gavin closed his eyes, desperate to quell the unpleasant rocking. The cat food was forgotten, his mind preoccupied with a new, more pressing objective. Finding some painkillers. Shambling his way through his cabinets, he grappled with a myriad of cans and noodle packets - but failed to find his desired relief. Grunting frustratedly, he leant his head against the cabinet door, hoping the action may alleviate some pressure from his aching skull. 

Not helping matters was the sound of light but incessant tapping on his kitchen window. 

He reasoned it must be pigeons. They could often be found skulking around on the building's fire escape. Just as he was about to shoo them away, his eyes caught a glimpse of something else. A tall, looming figure on his balcony. Staring in with piercing grey eyes. 

"What the fuck -" the detective yelped, reaching instinctively for a gun that wasn't holstered. With footing lost, he tumbled backwards and was stopped by the fold-out table propped against the wall. As he came down from the sudden shock of adrenaline, his eyes started to focus on his would-be intruder. As the features came together, he felt relief - as well as a strong sense of resentment.   

Nines tapped the glass once again before gesturing to the balcony door. Its lips were moving, but no words could be heard through the thick glazing of the windows. With flustered exacerbation, Gavin pushed himself away from his plastic support. Unlocking the balcony door, he violently swung it open.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Good afternoon, Detective", Nines responded with flawless composure. It maintained an invasive level of eye contact - much to Gavin's visible displeasure - when its gaze began to trail downwards. Its lip twitched, and its expression shifted between intrigue and amusement. "You are looking well."

"No, seriously, what are you doing?" Gavin repeated. The cold breeze outside assaulted his skin, and he tried to ward off his shivers with a gentle shuffle of his feet. "If this is about work, I swear to god, I'm pushing you off this building. Because I already said no. I don't want to hear it."   

"I never received a 'no'", Nines corrected. "You asked if it could wait until Monday. I concluded that it could not - and informed you as such. Did you not receive my message?" 

"I stopped reading your messages, dipshit. They were pissing me off -

Why didn't you knock on my door? Instead of scaling the fire escape like a goddamn lunatic?" 

"I tried the door, but you were not answering." 

"I was in the fucking shower." The detective leant against the doorframe, exhaling heavily. "You could have waited a minute." 

"I waited several minutes", Nines retorted, calmly straightening its back. "Nonetheless, now that I am here, you may as well let me inside." 

"Are you -" Gavin cut himself off, sighing frustratedly. "Another Human Tip: You can't just show up at somebody's house without their permission. For all you know, I might have been busy. Like, I dunno, cranking one out. You really want to walk in on that?" 

Nines looked on with a blank expression, to which Gavin immediately regretted his words. Of course, it would be incapable of grappling with such a fundamentally 'human' concept. He was doubtful the machine had ever experienced anything akin to lust or desire, let alone the need for release - 

"I am perfectly aware of human fondness for self-stimulation" The android looked him up and down again before subtly tilting its head. "Truthfully, there are less appealing things I can think of seeing." 

It was Gavin's turn to stall. 

Of Nines' various tricks and skills, catching him by surprise was undoubtedly one of them . If it wasn't for the quintessentially 'robotic' way with which it had phrased the statement, he might have mistaken the words for some surreal attempt at flirting. 

While it sought to portray an air of disinterest, there was something akin to a self-aware glimmer in Nines' eyes. Like it knew precisely what it was doing. As the detective had effectively admitted to his own pent-up sexual frustrations, he could only assume that his partner was now seeking to exploit this. Yet another excuse to exert 'superiority'. 

"I'll let you in -" Gavin began, readjusting his towel in hidden embarrassment "- but only because I don't want my neighbours to think I'm being robbed." 

With a palpable lack of enthusiasm, he led Nines into his home. It settled itself on a nearby chair, waiting patiently. Tiffany grew increasingly vocal in her demands to be fed, and Gavin was ready to comply. He returned to the counter, tearing the corner of the abandoned food pouch and immediately heaved at the putrid smell. 

"Are you alright, Detective?" Nines asked, observing from the sidelines. 

"Fuck off."

"I would be happy to offer my assistance." 

"I said fuck off ", He set Tiffany's food bowl on the side, grimacing as he attempted to squeeze the contents from the pouch. The texture stopped him as he heaved again, more violently, and dropped the packaging onto the counter.

At this point, Tiffany had lost patience, deciding to stroll around the kitchen. Gavin knew that one of her favourite spots was under the folded table. Where Nines was currently sitting. The flick of a tail caught his attention, and he turned around to see his partner staring intently. Its hands remained balled into fists until a couple of fingers started to release. Extending down, the android attempted to brush the top of her fur. 

"Don't", Gavin warned. "I've already told you. If you touch her, she'll -" 

A hand ran across Tiffany's back, and she let out a rumbling purr. No bites or scratches were exchanged, nor was Thirium shed on the kitchen floor. Both feline and machine looked equally pleased, while Gavin was caught between utter bewilderment and betrayal. 

You fluffy traitor. 

Nines looked up, smiling gently. "It would appear your cat likes me, Detective Reed."

We'll see about that. 

After successfully depositing the food, Gavin set the bowl on the floor, and Tiffany quickly noticed. With perked eyes, she deserted her new friend without hesitation. He couldn't help but chuckle at how the Nines' expression immediately withered. 

"That's cats for you," He said, offering a shrug of commiseration. "Fickle bastards."  

With his task complete, the man was keen to take a rest. Even if 'rest' meant sitting with Nines and listening to its stilted ramblings. He was about to do so when his headache halted him once again. His vision lost focus and filled with spots as he clung to the counter's edge. The pain had grown impossible to ignore, and his nausea had only worsened. Feeling sorry for himself, he leant over his sink and groaned.

"You appear to be in physical distress", Nines said. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm hungover, dipshit." 

 Nines nodded its head, showing that it understood, before gesturing to the cabinet above the bedraggled man. "Painkillers are on the top shelf. Behind the mugs."

Gavin shot it a disparaging look. Having found nothing on the shelf above, he could only assume that the android enjoyed watching him struggle. "You got x-ray vision?" 

"Not as such. It is a simple observation." 

Despite reservations, Gavin was reaching a physical breaking point. He would do just about anything to quell the pressure in his head. Even if it meant complying with his know-it-all work partner. 

As he moved the mugs aside, he was greeted with one of his all-time favourites. It was adorned in smileys, with 'No. 1 Cat Mom' written in bold, blocky letters. It had been a gift from Tina, made during a pottery class. While the handle was lopsided and the paint was splotched, Gavin appreciated it greatly. Although he would deny this if questioned. 

The painkillers were tucked away in the left-hand corner of the shelf, just as Nines promised. Convinced that the bottle had not been visible from its current position, he shot it an accusing look. "How did you know this was here?" 

"I noticed it earlier when you were searching your cabinets. I'm surprised you didn't as well."

"Oh, what, when you were creeping through my window?" Gavin removed the cap from the painkillers and poured himself a glass of water. "Didn't think 'Peeping Tom' was one of your features."  

Nines did not appreciate the suggestion. Its eyes darted away defensively, and its complexion darkened, tinged with blue. "Please do not flatter yourself. I would have liked to have made my presence known sooner, but I was determining the most opportune time. I did not wish to scare you."

"Well, that was a bust - because you scared the shit out of me." 

Its LED started to blink, flickering red before returning to normal. "I apologise." 

At that moment, Gavin saw something deeply resemblant to the android's predecessor. Unlike Connor, however, the sharpness of Nines' features did not lend themselves well to sympathetic softness. Its eyes were too intense to be large or pleading, and its jaw remained tensed in hidden defiance. 

"Sorry, Nines, but the 'kicked puppy' look really doesn't work for you", He quipped, rolling his eyes. "Give it a rest. You look constipated." 

Nines' expression returned to normal, betraying no hint of the vulnerability it had shown just seconds prior. 

"Look, as disappointing as this might be, towel time is over. I'm freezing my balls off" Gavin rubbed his hands, struggling with the chill that had lingered from the opened balcony. "While I'm gone, don't touch anything. Including my cat. Got it?" 

Ultimately, Gavin was forced to leave Nines unattended longer than desired. It was a challenge to find anything resembling clean clothes in the steaming trash heap he called his bedroom. In the end, a 'sniff test' guided him through, and he dressed himself in lounge shorts and a faded t-shirt. The sooner he got Nines out of his apartment, the sooner he could do something productive - like laundry. 

As he returned to the kitchen, there was a strong, earthy aroma wafting from the doorway. Clearly, Nines had decided to ignore his simple request. Gavin stomped into the room with a deep scowl marring his features. "What part of 'don't touch anything' did you not understand?" 

Nines looked up from his coffee machine with a steaming mug in hand. "I realise that my intrusion today was somewhat callous. Given your fondness for caffeinated drinks, I thought making one would show appreciation for how you didn't turn me away." 

Gavin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was really starting to struggle with his partner's constant mood swings. "Last week, you would have fed me to lions if it got you a lead, and now you're making me coffee. Has Connor been giving you more of your kiss-ass lessons?" 

"...While I was bestowed with improved skills in deduction and combat, RK800 possesses a more advanced social protocol. I have made it clear that I have no interest in adjusting my behaviour. Nonetheless, he has provided some…guidance on how I may improve my working relationships." 

While keeping his guard up, Gavin accepted the android's peace offering. Receiving the mug, he secretly indulged in its inviting heat and smell. "Provided this coffee doesn't taste like shit, you can tell him they're working."

They sat together at the table, and Gavin propped his elbow up, resting his head on his palm. "You've kept me in suspense long enough. So, what was this massive breakthrough that couldn't wait until tomorrow morning?" 

Nines perked up, seeming pleased that its partner was no longer stalling things. Reaching into its CyberLife jacket, it pulled out a folded piece of paper and set it on the table. It had started to speak before the detective could ask what it was. "Do you recall when I scanned Mr Scott's phone? Back at the electronics store?" 

Gavin snorted, fondly recalling the mortified look on Mikey's large, pug-like face. "I remember that you caught him watching porn."

"I wouldn't have said that the material had constituted pornography. It appeared to be a compilation video of women in bikinis - this was not the only thing I discovered." Nines tapped the paper's surface, inviting his partner to take a look. "My scan revealed that Mr Scott had been engaging in several concerning online activities. I have since done some further research and printed a screenshot for reference." 

Unfurling the paper, Gavin wasn't entirely sure what to expect. However, he was almost disappointed when he was finally about to take a look. It seemed pretty tame. A text-based message board spouting aggressive anti-android sentiments. While littered with slurs and grammatical errors, the vast sum of the posts could be surmised as rehashes of the same tired arguments. How androids were the downfall of society and needed to be destroyed.

"Look, I'm not saying this stuff is nice, Nines - but it really isn't that bad." Gavin looked up from the paper, raising his eyebrows. "Besides, what's it got to do with the case?" 

Nines met his doubt with stern insistence, motioning its hand, "Turn the page." 

Gavin did as instructed - and then, he saw it. A profoundly disturbing and sinister twist to an otherwise innocuous forum thread. There were dozens of photos of dismantled - or otherwise mutilated - androids. He recognised many images from their own criminal database. Some were photos that had been released to the press, while others were not. 

Unsurprisingly, the responses to these images were gleefully morbid. Celebrating the senseless brutality of the acts that had been committed.

 

** [NSFW] Robot slut gets skull bashed in with a brick**

 

> lol. serves it right. plastic whore. 

>> This one is pretty good, but it would be better if you could see its face. I love it when they cry. 

>>> Very nice. Saving this for later. 

 

The comments only got worse, devolving into increasingly violent and sexual depravity. It left a bitter taste in Gavin's mouth, and he had to stop reading. 

"This one is ours. The MJ100."

"They're all ours, Detective", Nines said gravely. "The HR400 is featured too, as well as all other crimes that could be linked with our investigation - 

This is more than just an innocuous hate forum. It is an organised group operating outside of Detroit. Most, if not all, of these pictures depict locally-based crimes. There are also discussions alluding to local meet-ups and events." 

Gavin looked down at the page, squinting in confusion. "...I don't see anything like that."

"Such posts appear to be procedurally deleted. No doubt for security reasons" Nines also glanced down at the paper before pointing its finger to a specific exchange. "Some evidence remains, however. Look here": 

 

> bacon at cedars + me. organic and synth

 

Gavin took a moment to process the words when his eyes blew wide in realisation. Cedars Motel and Mikey's Electronics. From this, there were no points for guessing who 'bacon' might be. 

 

>> What did they want?

>>> Tlla ha JSOX. ZS J

 

"Meet at CLHQ. SL C" Nines translated, barely sparing a glance from the paper. "It is a code within a code. Arrangements to meet in person." 

"Son of a bitch”, The detective hissed, half-standing up from his chair. "Were you able to find any private chat logs? Or trace where these messages came from?" 

"Unfortunately not", It lamented. "The forum appears to operate on a largely anonymous basis. Private chats are unavailable, and while usernames can be edited, most appear procedurally generated. Whoever this individual is, they have been careful to cover their tracks. I was unable to pinpoint their location." 

"That fucker Mikey has a lot to answer for" Gavin was growing increasingly heated, clutching the end of the table. "I say we go back down there and beat it out of him." 

"Tempting as that may be, I suggest we discuss matters with Captain Fowler first. Mr Scott is hiding something, and I believe a private interrogation may prove invaluable." 

"Gotta admit Nines. You didn't disappoint. This is a solid fucking lead. Nice, uh - ", Gavin stalled, his words cut off by an unpleasant heat rising in his throat. He held his breath, willing away the inevitable, but with little success. "I'm gonna be sick." 

Nines stood up. Judging by its face, it was less than enamoured by the prospect of vomit. Smoothing out the wrinkles in its dress pants, it gave him a curt nod. "I'll see myself out. Thank you for your time, Detective. I trust you will be well enough to join me tomorrow." 

Gavin was unable to respond, making a dash for the bathroom, hand clutched to his mouth.

[aangstycareberrr]

Partners, pt. 2

summary: college au / you and Kenma get paired up for a project together and fun stuff happens

kenma x reader

part 1 part 3

a/n: there’s gonna be one more part after this one i think

————————————————————————

You got ready for the party and were almost ready to head out, you looked over your makeup and your outfit in the mirror and took a quick picture before grabbing your keys and walking out. As you were locking your door you feel your phone vibrate in your hands. It’s a text from Kenma. “hey, just checking that your still coming?”, it makes you feel giddy to see his name on your phone, and the fact that he wants you to be there is enough to make you giggle out loud. You’re feeling a lot more confident than earlier so you decide to be a little flirty with your reply, “would you be sad if i wasn’t?“ You hit send and for a moment you question if you shouldn’t have said that. is it stupid, is he gonna think i’m dumb for flirting with him. but he almost immediately replies, with a simple “yeah”. you just stare at your phone, you weren’t expecting him to just concede and outright admit without a shadow of a doubt that he wants you there. it’s such a simple response and yet it plagues your thoughts for the entirety of way.

You walk through the door and look around, the place is packed and you couldn’t remember the last time you went to a party this big, actually you weren’t sure you ever had. You spotted the kitchen, which was significantly less crowded, and walked over to make yourself a drink, you’re going to need it to get through tonight, you thought. As you pour vodka and sprite into a solo cup you hear your name.

“Y/n!“ You look up to see Kuroo walking into the kitchen with another guy next to him who you feel like you vaguely recognize. You’re relieved to see a familiar face but you’re mostly just thinking about where Kenma might be.

“i’m glad you could make it, and i’m not just saying that because you’re the reason i convinced Kenma to come to one of these parties.”, he says jokingly, but it still makes you happy to hear.

“Thank you for the invite, honestly this is a bit out of my comfort zone but i can tell there won’t be a dull moment.”, you say as you watch a group of guys holding the biggest dude you’ve ever seen by his ankles to do a keg stand. Kuroo laughs and says “You got that right. Listen i’m gonna go get Kenma for you, he went to my room and told me to just come get him when you got here… don’t tell him i told you that.”, you laugh and the comment makes some of your nerves disperse. he really wants me here. Before walking off Kuroo mentions, “This is Bokuto, i’m gonna leave you with him while i fetch Kenma, and i promise he’ll keep you entertained.” As Kuroo walks off to get Kenma you turn to greet Bokuto, but he beats you to it. “Hey! it’s so nice to meet you, i feel like i know you from somewhere.”, he speaks excitedly and his cheery aura makes you feel at ease, that could also be the alcohol though. “i think so too actually! wait, are you in my english lit class?”

“YES! that’s it!! you’re the girl who sits in the front and always knows the answers to the professors weird and metaphorical questions!”, This makes you laugh, you remember Bokuto now. He sits a little further back than you, you’ve seen him doodling in his notebook during lectures.

“Hey wait, so you’re here for Kenma?”, You can’t decipher if the shock in his voice is good or bad. “Yeah i guess you could say that. Anything i should know?”, you say this in a light hearted tone, but secretly you are trying to get information. “I mean Kenma’s a good guy, i’m just a little shocked, he doesn’t really do this kind of thing.” “Parties or girls?” Before Bokuto can respond to your question Kenma walks into the kitchen with Kuroo.

He’s beautiful. You think as you watch him walk in, you can’t believe how attracted you are to him. He stands a couple feet away from you in the kitchen and smiles lightly at you. “Hi”, he greets. “Hi”, you respond, you both just stare at each other for a moment. Kuroo interrupts by clearing his throat and excusing Bokuto and himself, leaving you alone with Kenma. “Hi”, “hi”, you both repeat your greetings and laugh about it. you realize he’s staring at you and it makes you feel self-conscious until he says, “you look good.” He said it with a fond smile and looks down. “Thank you”, you smile back at him and suddenly you feel unfalteringly confident. “Can i show you outside? it’s a bit quieter and the pool is nice to look at at night.” You agree and you guys walk outside together.

It is indeed quieter outside and you mentally thank Kenma. there’s a few people sprawled out on some patio furniture and a guy and a girl sitting with their feet in the water. Other than that, it’s pretty desolate. You take a moment to look at the pool and how the light reflects on it. “It is nice to look at.”, you say to Kenma. You guys sit next to each other by the edge of the pool. “So you live here?”, you ask Kenma. He scrunches his nose up and says “no, i hang out here every now and then because of Kuroo but, a frat isn’t my idea of a comfortable living space.” “Yeah i didn’t think you were the frat type.”

“I’m not sure how i should take that.”, Kenma said in a playfully defensive tone

“It’s not a bad thing. Like i just know i wouldn’t be able to do it. i enjoy being around people but some days i definitely need to be in hermit mode and recharge my social battery. I just get the feeling that we might be similar in that regard.” You look at him when you finish talking and notice he’s staring at you like he’s thinking about saying something. Finally, he says, “i want to show you something”

He stand and leads you towards a corner on the far side of the patio and you hesitate for a bit before following him until you reach a ladder leaned against the side of the house. “i really like climbing onto the roof sometimes, it’s pretty much the only part of this house that’s consistently peaceful.”

You consider him for a moment, mentally weighing the pros and cons of going to a secluded area with a guy you basically just met. Something about Kenma makes you feel safe, you know it’s because he’s conventionally attractive, but you let yourself indulge for a bit and climb the ladder. Kenma climbs up behind you and you wonder if he’s looking up your skirt or being respectful, you don’t know which one you prefer. When you get to the top you notice a lawn chair with a blanket thrown over it. “that’s usually where i sit when i’m up here.” Kenma walks over and removes the blanket from over the chair, and then sprayed it out on the floor for you both to lay one. You sit on it as you dangle your feet off the edge of roof. from here you get a clear view of the couple down by the pool. They’re sitting close together but not actually touching, they’ve been giggling and they both seem nervous in a cute way, so you draw the conclusion that they’re not officially a couple. “They’ve both been dying to kiss each other this whole time.”, you say. Kenma laughs but looks a little confused, so you feel the need to clarify, “i like to people watch”. Kenma nods in understanding and then says, “actually i think he’s a lot more into her than she is, i like to people watch too.” You smile at this and then respond, “What makes you say that?”

“His body is turned towards her but she’s just facing the pool, and she’s always the first to break eye contact, like she’s avoiding him trying to kiss her.”

You laigh incredulously at him, “ok, i’m impressed.” You both laugh together and the atmosphere is light and playful and makes you feel giddy.

Conversation flows smoothly after this. You guys talk about your majors, your hometowns, families, high school, and everything under the sun. He tells you about his hobbies and the small company that he’s thinking of starting, you tell him about your passions and aspirations. He’s easy to talk to and he makes you laugh and laughs at your jokes as well. Everything about him makes you want to kiss him, but you don’t want to jump the gun. At some point along the way you guys have scooted even closer together and your thighs touch his. You’re so enthralled in conversation you don’t notice how much time has passed or the fact that it’s been hours. You weren’t expecting to stay this long and although you don’t mind, you didn’t feel totally safe walking back to your place so late at night. After taking a look at your phone and confirming the time, you regretfully say to him, “god this sucks, but i kinda should get going, it’s pretty late, and my place is a few blocks from here.” “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to keep you. I didn’t even notice the time.”, he apologized but you quickly say, “No! don’t apologize, i enjoyed this.” It sounds so formal, you want to say it differently, you want to tell him that you’ve loved every minute spent with him, that he’s been so charming, that you want to see him again, but you bite your tongue, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you’re bursting on the inside. He smiles at your comment and says “Can i walk you home?, and don’t say i don’t have to do that. i want to, if you’re comfortable with it.” You want to melt and hug him, but instead you just nod. “I’d like that.”

As you walk back to your place it’s quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. He evokes this energy that makes being around him easy, like there’s no pressure to perform or act a certain way. You look at him from the corner of your eye and see him smiling at the ground. After a few minutes you arrive in front of your apartment building and you stop in front of it. “This is your place?”, “yeah? why’d you say it like that?”, “Oh it’s just, i live in that building.”, he points to the building across the street from yours, it’s literally 10 feet away. You’re not sure if this makes you happy or nervous but you just laugh, he joins you in this. You guys stare at each other and you know you’re just stalling having to walk away from him, you want to spend the whole night just talking to him, or even just sitting in silence with him.

“Thank you for walking me.” “it’s, no problem, apparently we were going the same way”, he says jokingly. Not being able to stall any longer, you say goodbye to him and turn to walk into your building. “hey”, he calls. You turn back to look at him and he gets a lot closer to you, inches from your face. You look up at him with slightly wide eyes and he says “Can i kiss you?”, you nod and he leans in. It’s slow, and sweet. He rests one hand on your waist while the other cups your face. Your hands go around his shoulders, meeting at the nape of his neck where you play with the ends of his hair. His lips are a little chapped but you don’t care. he’s an amazing kisser. He pulls away for a second before placing one last quick peck on your lips. You stare up at him and smile. He’s lightly laughing and before you can ask why, he tells you, “I was so nervous to do that”, you laugh with him and are even more charmed by his giddiness. You feel like a teenage girl who just had her first kiss. You guys finally part and he tells you he’ll text you. You walk up to your apartment and and start laughing, it’s been a while since you felt the childlike innocence of a crush and all the little joys that come with it.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, it’s a text from Kenma: “i’m home :)”

[apoptoses]

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Blood Sanation what would it be?

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for Come Pull My Strings in general? Explain your choices if you want!

Bonus if you want/have time: 50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I'm going to disappoint the hell out of you and admit that I can't hear lyrics 90% of the time, so it's hard for to me to pick songs to relate to fic. I have severe audio processing issues, it takes me like twenty repetitions of a song to even realize the singer is saying words most of the time. And even then I don't understand correctly lol

To make up for that! I have a missing scene from Blood Sanation that I'll give you right now. It's Armand and Daniel returning home to NYC. It just didn't fit in the narrative so I cut it, but it's not a bad scene I think:

Armand rested heavy against Daniel’s shoulder, eyes on the screen embedded in the back of the seat in front of them. Daniel kept scrolling through the movies again and again in wonder. Beside them passengers pushed their way toward the back of the place, bags thudding into their overhead compartments. The flight attendant reached over Armand and slammed shut the compartment above them.

“The seats suck compare to the flights we used to take, but the little tvs are an improvement I guess,” Daniel said as he pushed a button on the menu and found the games.

“Have you not been on a plane since I last saw you?”

Daniel shrugged. “Yeah but I wasn’t really in the mood to play games. I think I stared out the window the whole time.” He put his arm around Armand’s shoulders and squeezed. “I didn’t have you there to hassle me and keep me entertained.”

Armand smiled. Funny how they could make light of that time now, if only to keep from dulling their mood.

Flying home commercial had been his idea.

Skipping the private jet and going to the airport like normal travelers had only seemed natural after reliving the early days of their relationship. True, the airplanes were different now. The seats even in first class were more narrow, and the lounges upstairs were gone. But now Armand could curl up against Daniel’s side freely and not worry about what anyone thought. He could nap against his chest the whole way home if he wanted.

“I’m kind of nervous about going back, to tell you the truth,” Daniel said suddenly.

The plane pulled back from the jetway. It shuddered as the pilot took it out of reverse, changed gears, and turned toward the runway for takeoff.

“What about?” Armand asked.

Surprising for Daniel to say this now, when he hadn’t seemed to worry the entire trip. Armand sat up, craned his neck awkwardly to look at his face without removing Daniel’s arm from his shoulders.

“It’ll just be different, not having you all to myself,” Daniel said. “And I’m not against you having your own relationships outside of what you have with me. But I can’t say I’m not nervous about how it’ll all work out.”

“I don’t think either of us can say how it’ll work out,” Armand said slowly. “We can only try our best. Especially if you’ll be living outside of Trinity Gate.”

“Right.”

The plane rumbled as the engines turned, gaining speed. It rolled forward slowly and then, with a great leap that jerked them back into their seats, roared down the runway and into the sky. Daniel always used to sweat at this part. He’d drink a glass of whiskey before boarding and then request another the moment they’d sat down to get him through the anxiety of take off. As an immortal all Armand could offer him was his hand.

Outside the window the lights of the city grew smaller and smaller. Daniel closed his eyes and laced their fingers, holding his hand tight.

“But just think, the nights I come to visit you we’ll be all alone together. I can get in bed with and sleep away the day, and when I go back home you can text me as much as you like,” Armand said to distract him. “I can send you all sorts of things now when we’re apart.”

Armand shifted closer. He leaned across the armrest to whisper into Daniel’s ear above the roar of the plane.

“I can send you photos. Videos. Louis loves to go to the symphony. I could slip away to the bathroom and send you all sorts of things and he would hardly be the wiser. Or would you like him to know?”

Daniel’s adam’s apple worked in his throat. Armand grinned.

“You want him to know. You like nice, proper Louis knowing that I’ve left my seat to send you photos of my cock.”

Daniel glanced over. “Jesus, Armand, we’re in public.”

“That’s never stopped you before. I remember what I used to do to you under the blankets on these planes when the lights were out. If I could still get in your mind I’d put the image there but- then again, I don’t have to, do I? You can imagine it quite well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember,” Daniel said, voice low and rough.

While no one seemed to be paying attention Armand dropped his hand. Reached over and gave his groin a quick squeeze.

Daniel made a sound as if the breath had been punched out of him. The plane evened out and hit cruising altitude.

“Nice to know I still have such an effect on you,” Armand said and snuggled back up against his side. “Really though, Daniel, Louis will understand.”

Daniel dragged his hand over his face. He was so red under the harsh fluorescent lights in the plane. “I just don’t want anyone jealous or putting you in the middle and making you feel like you have to choose. Or making you feel like your whole job is running back and forth between guys and you never get time for yourself.”

“But I like spending time with each of you. And we can all spend time together, can’t we? Surely you and Louis can survive watching a movie in the same room with me.”

“Yeah, I mean more like- if you spend a couple nights with him and I’m missing you. Or the other way around. Does that sound silly and insecure?” Daniel asked.

Armand nestled into the warm space of Daniel’s underarm and bit back a smile. When Daniel glanced out the window he saw the reflection of his face in the plastic. His hand went still on his shoulder.

“What’s so funny? It is silly and insecure, isn’t it?” he asked.

Armand shook his head. “No. I was only thinking I haven’t had men openly jealous over me since I was a boy. The idea of you and Louis arguing over me is entertaining, that’s all,” he said. “It’ll be fine, really. If you need me all you ever have to do is ask. And besides, Louis may return to Auvergne with Lestat.”

Daniel’s hand resumed rubbing its slow circles into his arm. Armand closed his eyes. They were high enough in the sky there were no lights to look at now, only clouds and endless dark sky.

“And are you worried about that?” Daniel asked.

“Of course. But there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?”

The idea made his chest go tight, caused the lump to try to creep up and constrict his throat. But Daniel’s big hand on his arm helped to push it back down. Over the hum of the engines he could hear the slow beat of his heart and the rasp of his lungs. Armand tried to breathe with him, to exhale whenever Daniel did and keep his airway open.

Louis might leave. But Louis might also stay. Louis and Daniel might one day live with him, all three of them together with whoever else chose to remain at Trinity Gate.

Or perhaps he’d live with Daniel again, just the two of them. There was no way to know. But they were going home now, back to New York, where they could begin again and find out.

Daniel touched the computer screen again. He scrolled through the movies until he found a film with Meg Ryan, one they’d seen together shortly before they’d split. When Harry Met Sally. He felt for his headphones in his pocket and plugged them in, giving one of the earbuds to Armand.

Armand placed the thing in his ear, curled up at Daniel’s side and watched the opening credits roll.

“Daniel?”

“Yeah?”

Armand smirked. “Do you think if I ask the flight attendant for a blanket she’ll bring one?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. Reached up and pressed the call button. It lit up with a soft ding.

“I’m never flying commercial with you again.”

[oathshxker]

hello my beebs, tis i, lyna (she/her, 25+, est) here with my beautiful brain child i am SO EXCITED FOR named sura. he's a noble in the fiendish courts (though he doesn't really wanna be) and takes delight in corrupting people's hearts and souls. his strategy is normally to appeal to the deadly sin someone is weak to and exploit it in hopes that when they die they go to hell and become infernal like him. he's quite evil, and i'm very excited to pen such a devilishly devious muse. below the cut is his bio, and i have some premade open plots for him here if you're interesed! please like this for plotting! i'll message you, or you can add me on discord: @plumboss!

⸺ ✧˖° Introducing the noble lord sura, a cunning DEVIL with a fondness of music and poetry. Their admirers endlessly praise them for their skills as a charismatic BARD & their work as the court of flames' INFERNAL ARCHIVIST. On the contrary; their rivals will warn you of their tendency to be manipulative and malicious. ⦁ faceclaim: park seonghwa, ateez . mun: lyna, she/her.

THE DEVIL IN ME

“⸺ ✧˖° 

NAME: [classified] NICKNAMES/ALIAS: sura GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him BIRTHDAY: unknown AGE: stopped counting after 300 SPECIES: fiend - devil  SEXUALITY: chaotic bisexual CURRENT LOCATION: jeosung, koryo OCCUPATION: nobleman and scholar of infernal history ETHNICITY: infernal NATIONALITY: koryaan RELIGION: demonic SOCIAL CLASS: nobility ADVENTURE CLASS: bard - college of whispers

FACECLAIM: ateez seonghwa EYE COLOR: red [when not glamoured] HAIR COLOR: black HAIR TYPE: straight BODY TYPE: lean athletic HEIGHT: 6’1” WEIGHT: 170 lbs SCENT: eau d’avernus TATTOOS: none PIERCINGS: ears and tongue SCARS: one long scar down the side of his neck, apparent scars around his horns from when they grew in

bullets:

born in avernus, was quickly summoned to jeosung by his family to avoid the blood war front lines 

was raised in jeosung as part of the nobility, with distant blood ties to one of the archdevils of the nine hells serving as his claim to his title

unlike some of his brothers, sisters and cousins, sura never took to any one skill that he was supremely proficient at, but was rather skilled in most things he tried, and therefore ended up training as a bard

he is proficient with many instruments, his favored instruments being the flute and the lute

can pretty much talk his way out of anything or convince people he is more capable than he actually is

chose the name ‘sura’ for himself as an alias to keep his real name a secret, though somewhere in the nine hells there exists half a stone tablet with part of his real name recorded on it in infernal. the other half is in his possession and locked away for safe keeping.

found himself enjoying his studies more than combat and spell casting, and so he decided to make a profession out of his learned knowledge and become a scholar and tutor

he began forming an archive of infernal texts he safeguards in his estate as part of his scholarly duties

he visits court, sure, but it’s a little dull for his tastes, though he does his best to make the most of it and have his fun, either through conversation or making a little impromptu performance

he uses his tutoring as a way to lure in potentials for becoming fiends, using his role as a mentor to influence human souls so that they might go to hell upon death and become devils themselves

his methods usually include pushing someone towards acting on the deadly sin they’re most guilty of and then appearing as an ally when their sinful acts blow up in their face

morals are clearly corrupt, his main goal is to avoid his name being discovered since he enjoys controlling others, rather than them controlling him

is more so guilty of apathy and boredom rather than selfishness, he toys with people to entertain himself more than anything

will always try to appear as a friend rather than a foe, this is his way

dresses in the finest, trendiest [and most revealing] clothing

he’s all about having fun really

[boytickler35]

Ticklish Princes Part 2

            Prince Charming slams his door behind him, dulling his Father’s bellows. The teen flops into his bed, throwing an arm over his head in the process. Outside he can hear his father losing steam and the noise dissipate. After three days in a carriage with no company other than an elder driver and an eligible but not entertaining noble lady all Charming wanted to so was slip off to his room, freshen up and rest before beginning his classes anew tomorrow.

            Those dreams were quickly shattered when his Father greeted him at the door, eager to hear that he proposed to his companion. When he saw them heading in opposite directions, her in a huff and Charming yawning, his famous temper was sparked. Charming calmly tried to explain that he did not need his Father’s help finding a wife but as was always the case when his Father got on the subject of his unmarried state, nothing the prince could say would satisfy the old man. Charming was willing to let his Father blow off the steam and eventually slip away when the man was distracted but before that chance came, his Father insinuated that Charming was remaining unmarried to spite him. Offended that his Father thought he was doing this to hurt him, the prince spoke up, loudly in his defense.

            Charming groans remembering the heated exchange after that followed and wishes the whole day could just be over. He eventually slips into an exhausted sleep, still stewing.

            He awakes to a gentle tugging at his foot. His eyes flutter open to see his Father sitting at the foot of his bed. One of Charming’s boots is in his hand, on the way to the floor. His father is talking to him softly, in a way that makes it obvious he thinks his son is still sleeping, “Oh Charming, what am I going to do with you, seventeen and still going to bed fully dressed. Your mother would laugh and remind me that some things never change.” Charming hears a soft thump as the first boot meets the floor and feels his Father working the other off. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to risk the moment with the potential for another argument. His Father continues talking absently as he pulls the other off, “It always amazed me who you could just fall asleep dressed like this.”

            Charming closes his eyes, enjoying the soft tone and fondness that he has gone so long without hearing. That is until he suddenly pulls his foot back. For a moment he wonders why until he hears, “Still as ticklish as when you were a lad I see? Come on son. I know your awake, no need to pretend.”

            Charming opens his eyes to see his Father in the same position as before, by his feet smiling at him gently. The boy feels his face flush a little in embarrassment which earns a chuckle from his Father. “No shame in it Son; it runs in the family.” There is silence for a moment and his Father moves to stand. “Well, I had best get going. I will leave you to rest.”

            Charming feels a pat on the top of a foot and then the bed shifting. Suddenly he finds himself sitting up and grabbing his Father’s arm. “Stay?” He hates the pleading tone his voice takes and he is not sure why he makes the request at all but so far they had been in the same room together for almost five minutes with no arguments. His Father looks just as surprised but he does settle back on the bed with a tentative smile. Another few moments of uncomfortable silence pass and Charming starts worrying he was wrong to ask the older man to stay.

            “Look at us, what a pair we make, eh son? Unable to have a conversation unless it involves yelling it seems.” Charming offers an awkward smile at how alike their thoughts are and is about to continue when his Father beats him to it. “Remember when we were both younger? Your mother swore we were the worst thing that happened to the Kingdom. The amount of time I did not do my work and played with you. Oh those were the days were they not?”

            Charming nods in agreement remember the fond times he spent sneaking into his Father’s study and the grand adventures they would go on in the confines of the room. “Do you remember the games? You always played the villain for me.” Charming recalls out loud.

            A chuckle sounds from the other side of the room. “I remember very well. They always followed the same story: A daring young Prince tries to save a young maiden from an evil sorcerer. He would have to pass three trials in strength, intelligence and endurance. That was your favorite one.”

            Charming blushes a little and replies, “It was yours too!”

            Rather than denying it the King instead agrees easily, “Of course, tickling you was always fun. You squirmed and squeaked and you had the most adorable laugh. You always tried to get away but never too hard.”

            Charming, though still embarrassed, laughs at the memory. “I never hated the sensation; actually I always sort of enjoyed it.”

            His Father chuckles and pokes one of his feet getting a giggle from the younger. “Is that still true?”

            Charming nods, his face still red, and moves his feet a little closer to his Father who scoops them up, settling them on his lap. Charming, remembering the game, wiggles his socked feet and boldly declares, “Tickle me if you must Sorcerer but I will not surrender!”

            “I think you will find me more skilled at tickling than you think Princeling!” His Father changes his voice to a raspy, nasally sound. Charming suddenly feels ten fingers scribbling across his soles. He bucks and squirms and quickly finds the laughter pouring out as he tries to tug his feet away only to learn that his Father has maintained his impressive grip strength even in his old age.

            “How does the Princeling expect to save the fair maiden when he cannot even save his own tootsies form their due punishment?” His Father punctuates this with the cackling laughter that went with the voice. The raucous laughter from the teen proves he is still as sensitive as he was in his youth, and the silken stockings cladding his feet are not helping him at all. Still Charming, laughing and rolling about trying to squirm free, manages to reply “YoHohOhWihehEHeHEllSHEhehEHhee! IhAhAHhaHWhehEillWHeHEehHEhehein!”

            “I think not Princeling, once I remove these socks, you will be helpless before my tickling mastery!”

            Before Charming can protest, his socks are stripped off and his Father is back to tickling his now bare feet. This time though, it’s slow and agonizing. One at a time, each finger slides up and down his soles provoking more wild laughter from the younger man. Charming feels the speed pick up; the dull nails drawing circles on his heels is agonizing but not outdone by the feather light touches to his soles. When he feels fingers targeting below his toes and then between them, he wonders if he’ll make it through the tickling without accidentally kicking his Father in the face. “YHoHOHouWiHEHhellNehEhehehEverHAHeBrhhaeahaHekMHeHEHeheLiHAhahHEKeThHEheheis!” Charming declares boldly. He’s not sure if it’s because he was a glutton for tickling punishment then and it was in their “script” or if he still is.

            “It seems you are right, I thought you would be easier to break! But do not worry I have my secret weapon that is sure to break you!” Charming frowns and looks over at his Father, not remembering this part and to his surprise and both amusement and trepidation, he sees his Father brandish a feather.

            He feels his toes curling at the thought of the soft implement being used on his tender feet but he keeps in character, “Wicked Sorcerer, even if you torture me with that, you will not win!”

            Of course, Charming thinks he may have to change the “will not” to a “probably not” after the delicate feather meets his equally delicate foot. It brushes first over his heel and along the sides, getting a yelp from the prince. Then he feels the stiff end being used on his soles and laughs louder than he has in years, squirming but not begging.

            The Sorcerer is a taskmaster however, soon sawing between his toes. Charming thinks this might be the end of the young “Princeling” until he suddenly gets an idea. He quickly sits up and rather than trying to pull his feet away, he digs his fingers into his Father’s sides. The Sorcerer lets out a yelp and screams “No, you have found my WeheheheHEakness! I AhahaHAHahhMDEHehehehEHFeHEhEHEhted!” Charming continues for a moment longer, poking at his Father but stops soon enough.

Father and son both catch their breaths, laughing still at the childish game. There isn’t any conversation between them but at the moment there doesn’t need to be. For the time being they are content to just sit and enjoy each other’s company with no talk of wives or grandchildren.

[soundbargeek]

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[lucielxbe]

when the sun starts to fall, luciel gets busy entertaining people for the night. he’s thankful to his past self of taking this as a part-time job instead of full time, there’s days when he finds it all too dull. well, he still has classes too.

it was another evening, the usual. he dresses himself up, ensuring that whenever he looks in the mirror, he’s perfect. then he sets off for whoever requested for him. they were typically regulars, faces he’s familiar with and hearts he did not want to touch. despite being a part-timer, luciel had became pretty well known — and that’s also why he’s fully booked all the time.

before he sets for work, he goes through the list of customers that specifically requested for him. then he hears his coworker talking about a new face, whose wallet clearly doesn’t seem to be full. out of pure curiosity, luciel takes a peek, and freezes in his steps.

he almost tosses the list aside. “there’s a system error, tell them i’m booked right now.”

luciel’s coworkers narrows their eyes at him, as in… what the fuck, seriously? the customers on the list should be prioritized over some… guy. and yet, all they do is to throw judgmental stares at him and lets him be. they’ll probably ask for compensation later anyways.

a charming smile appears on his lips, a faux smile that easily flutters some butterflies in the stomach, whatever that means. but it doesn’t work on touma. “i happened to be free, that’s what,” he tells his friend, who made an unexpected visit to his workplace. touma was probably curious or did he wanted to see him? so like a good friend luciel is, he should be the one attending him. “aren’t you lucky that you got me, then? you should feel lucky, actually. maybe you could win the gacha.”

he could feel the burning glares on his back as he said that.

“oh? that’s really mean of you to say that then, maybe you’ll make the ‘cheaper ones’ feel sad…” yet despite what luciel responds with, he gives a laugh. “that depends on me if i want to give you that discount, if i like my new customer enough to give him a discount.” he reaches a hand out to the latter, beckoning him to hold onto his.

“shall we go, my prince charming?”

and that, was on purpose. to cringe touma out.

hosting.

now that he's facing the front doors of the establishment, touma wonders to himself what brought him this far. sure, there's curiosity, then the appealing idea of surprising @lucielxbe by showing up without any sort of notice; but that doesn't explain why he would exert this much effort ( and money! ) to pull this off. is he bored? there are a long list of so many other things he could be doing other than entering a host club. but touma is not one to back down from a challenge, even one that he put upon himself rather foolishly.

he opens the door and steps in, already feeling the luxury of the club upon entering. someone comes by, no doubt surprised by his appearance. after all, he is a man inside a host club; there probably aren't a lot of customers like him. either way, he's presented with a booklet and is told of the popular hosts... and their prices. touma grimaces—right, these places are expensive. he came here for the experience, completely forgetting that he needs to be loaded too.

"just get me your cheapest person. wait, no... that sounded really mean, i'm sorry." he bows a little as an apology. how else can he say it? "i'm okay with anyone who's free. i just wanna try it out, that's all." he's not exactly a high-paying customer, so touma isn't going to be picky nor will he be demanding perfect service.

he waits around as the staff returns to the back, presumably to get a host. or maybe to tell their boss that there's no need to entertain him because he's clearly not a chaebol who came for a good time with money to spare. he's the opposite of that, and whatever extra cash he makes from walking dogs can't get him the most popular hosts nor would it get him the fancy items in the menu. maybe he'll be asked to leave the premises.

just as he's thinking that, the man of the hour—luciel, of all people—comes up to him. touma blinks, he's sure he hadn't told luciel that he'd be coming. was he spotted or something? unless... "don't tell me that you're my host," touma says. "that's crazy, i wasn't even planning on requesting you." then again, he wasn't going to request for anyone.

"you know, i asked them to assign whoever is free to me. i wanted to ask for someone cheaper, but that felt really mean to say." it still slipped out of his lips though. "are you going to give me a discount?"

[fan-fantasies]

We Aren’t Friends

A/N: ummm thank you so much for the amazing response to “Vanilla”!! I’m pretty certain it’s my most popular piece to date and seeing the response just makes me want to write even more. So please comment and reblog, because while likes are awesome, the reblogs boost visibility and the comments just make me happy 😂

Summary: you’re the good girl- good grades, well behaved, picture perfect princess- and you’ve been paired with the boy who you have nothing in common with for a school project. Eddie Munson was infamous and you stayed in completely different social circles. You always thought he hated you and your type until you saw him with Chrissy Cunningham. Why could he be friends with her and not with you? Why did you even care?

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jealousy?, mentions of drug use and bullying, no spoilers really

“Alright so meet with your partners to discuss your plans for the project going forward…and might I remind you, this is worth forty percent of your final grade,” you teacher told the class. You looked over at your partner- Eddie “the freak” Munson. He sent a wink your way and you sighed; this was going to be harder than you thought.

“Okay so I know you’re not really into the whole doing good in school thing so how about I just do the project and slap your name on it?” You suggested.

“While that is a tempting offer, sweetheart, I have a feeling our ever so observant teacher would notice if it doesn’t have my own personal touch,” he said, nodding over to your teacher who was already glaring at him.

“Fine, um, we could meet at the library right after school is over. I know nights don’t work for you because of your club.”

“You know about that?” He asked, a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re not exactly shy about it, Munson,” you laughed. “So library? After school?”

“Works for me, gorgeous.” He winked at you again before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were actually looking forward to seeing him again.

Your life was incredibly dull in comparison to his. You were just different, and there was nothing wrong with that. But a part of you yearned for something more exciting. Maybe Eddie could at least provide some entertainment for a while.

You found yourself waiting at the library for almost 15 minutes before he sauntered in, smelling him before you even saw him. You looked up at him with a scowl but he looked like he didn’t care, which he probably didn’t.

“Well now I only have 45 minutes before I have to get going so just sit down and listen to my ideas. I’m still suggesting I do most of the work because it’s worth a bit part of our final grade and I need to nail this,” you rambled.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, sweetheart. I have a feeling you could flunk this project and still pass the class.” He sat down in the chair across from you with a smirk.

“Yes well I’d rather not flunk it and keep up with my good grades. I know you don’t give a shit-”

“The princess swears!? I never would’ve guessed!” The smile on Eddie’s face only grew when you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe your bad influence is rubbing off on me already,” you said with a small smile.

“Keep hanging with me, sweetheart, and I’ll completely ruin you.” You knew he meant it jokingly but you couldn’t stop your stomach from doing a flip.

So for the next week and a half you guys met after school in the library like clockwork. He promised to show up on time if you promised to listen to him talk about D&D from time to time. It wasn’t something you understood, but you liked the way he talked about it with passion.

He gave you music recommendations and you, in turn, shared notes with him for some other classes. You told him your favorite movies and rolled your eyes when he snickered at your choices.

Sometimes in class, he’d find you looking at him and he’d wink or just shoot you a smile. Once when he heard you giggle when he rolled his eyes at the teacher, he made it his mission the entire rest of the class to make you laugh. Everyone looked at you like you were crazy but the smile on Eddie’s face was worth it.

As you got to know him a little better, it stung a little more when you would hear the jocks picking on him in the halls or at lunch time. His eyes found yours one day in the lunch room and you sent him a sad smile. You could see the hint of pain in his eyes but he shrugged it away as if it was nothing.

You weren’t quite sure why you felt so sad and angry when you saw him being bullied; maybe it was the growing friendship between the two of you or maybe it was your own growing feelings for the man.

Either way, you decided to go over and check on him. Your own friends asked where you were going but you brushed them off, making your way across the cafeteria.

“Hey Eddie. I just wanted to say that those guys are absolute assholes and you shouldn’t listen to anything they say,” you said with sincerity. His club members looked between the two of you and you knew other people were staring as well. Eddie looked at you and coughed awkwardly.

“Uh thanks, (y/l/n).” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked around at the leering eyes of your fellow students.

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” You asked. He gave you a small nod before quickly walking off. You thought it was weird but maybe he was just upset from the bullies. You shrugged it off and grabbed your bag, heading to your next class.

Later that day, you waited in the library for fifteen minutes. Then thirty. Then forty-five. You grabbed your books and shoved them in your bag, slamming the door on your way out. Part of you worried something had happened to him, but another part questioned why you even cared.

You had just made it to the parking lot when you noticed Eddie’s van on the far end of the lot. Eddie was leaning against it with a wide grin, talking to someone in a cheerleading outfit. You looked closer and noticed it was none other than the queen of Hawkins, Chrissy Cunningham.

So he couldn’t be friends with you yet he could run around with the most popular and pretty girl in town, blowing you off in the meantime. You tried to push down the pain bubbling up inside your chest, jumping in your car and speeding out of the lot, right past Eddie and his new friend. You knew he saw you but you didn’t care.

You trudged up to your room and instantly drew yourself a bath. You lit a few candles and poured in your favorite scented bath bubbles. You needed to calm down before working on your project. It needed to be finished with or without him- preferably without him.

After a decent soak, blasting your music to drown out any unwelcome thoughts, you threw on your fluffiest bath robe and sat down on your bed with your books in front of you. Your parents weren’t home so you could just relax without anyone bothering you.

What felt like hours went by, when in reality it was only forty-five minutes. Your album was nearing its end so you got up to change it. You happened to look up in the mirror and let out a ear splitting scream when you noticed a man standing in your window.

“Woah, calm down! Open up!” Eddie called out. You stood there clenching your chest trying to find your heart.

“What. The. Fuck. Munson!!” You screamed, flinging the window open.

“You didn’t answer your door! I was knocking for like fifteen minutes,” he said, climbing into your bedroom.

“So you climb onto my roof, you psycho?!”

“Okay, I can see how that appears mildly concerning. But I just wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your phone number so-“

“Because we’re not friends.” His face instantly fell into a frown.

“What?”

“You don’t have my number because we’re not friends. I don’t even know how you figured out where I live to be honest. We were partners on a project, which I will finish tonight, and that’s it,” you said, trying to act as neutral as possible. Maybe if you just cut everything off you could squash whatever feelings were bubbling up inside of you.

“Is this because I blew you off today? I honestly got a little distracted and forgot and I feel totally horrible.”

“So you’re trying to justify it by saying you got distracted and forgot? I guess I’m just not as important as queen Chrissy.” You couldn’t help the venom in your tone and you could see something light up in his eyes.

“Are you jealous of Chrissy?” He asked flat out.

“W-what?” He took a step closer to you and you matched it, only to run into your bed. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were in nothing but a robe. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at your feet.

“Is that what the problem is, gorgeous? You’re mad because I was with another girl?”

“No, why would I care about that?” You snapped.

“Because you care about me?” You thought you heard a hint of hope in his voice, but you chose to ignore it.

“Yeah right, Munson. I’m mad because I told you how much you mean to me this project means to me and you just didn’t care enough to show up. So I’m going to finish it and hand it in to the teacher so we can just be done.”

“(Y/N), it was a drug deal and nothing more.” He tried to reach out for your hand but you recoiled.

“Yeah, right. Like Chrissy Cunningham would buy drugs. And you’re the one that decided we weren’t friends when you blew me off in the lunch room.”

“Okay, let me explain!”

“No! You’re done explaining. This really isn’t a big deal. We’re just going to go about our lives pretending the other doesn’t exist, just like before. So please leave.”

“Sweetheart-” when you finally looked up your heart broke to see how upset he looked. You wanted to take it all back but you knew in the long run this was for the better.

“Just go.” You went over and opened your bedroom door, motioning with your hand for him to leave. He stood there with pleading eyes and it took all of the conviction you had to not break down. “Go!”

He slowly walked past you, looking like he had something to say, but whatever it was, he kept to himself. Once he was out of your room, you slammed the door behind him. Once you heard your front door close, you collapsed on the floor with a sob.

Why was this hurting so much? He was nothing to you- just the freak you were paired with for a class project. You could tell yourself that over and over again, but it would never make it true. You had fallen for Eddie Munson, and you just kicked him out of your life for good.

Were you protecting yourself? Maybe. Were you overreacting? Probably. One thing was certain though, you couldn’t change what happened so you’d have to learn to live with it- to live without him.

————————————

Angst?? From me?? Never!

Read part two here! ❤️

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