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berry-potchy · 1 year ago

Text

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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perrywrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii, your absentminded murmuring and handholding writings were so good!!! The handholding scenarios were so sexy and intimate, and the murmuring ones made me laugh but we're also really hot at the same time. Would you consider extending the absentminded murmuring one to other characters? I'd love to see how you would write that scenario with Reo, Chigiri, and Kaiser (if you don't write Kaiser, since I can't see anything for him yet, then I feel like Barou/Shidou would be particularly funny (and hot)).

AAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH, I'm so giddy, I'm glad the intimacy came across well 🤭🤭🤭 and omg... the Shidou one is 100% gonna turn into a public indecency case ngl LMFAO 😭😭😭 like w that man girly u gotta be the rational and restrained one... if you say something like that all. bets. are. OFFFF!

Also all 3 ended up being really long so for the sake of character limit, I'll be posting Kaiser right after, how does tumblr work and how do I post longer writings??? 😭😭😭

Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during practice part 2;

NSFW

Includes; Chigiri, Reo

Part 1 (Isagi, Hiori, Bachira) and part 3 (Kaiser, Barou) and part 4 (Nagi, Shidou, Kunigami) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)

Where Chigiri is ‘silently’ possessive (no, because seriously, I can’t be the only one who can just smell the silent cat-like possessiveness and jealousy radiating off of Chigiri, right??), Reo is lovesick as always.

Chigiri: he can feel your eyes burning passionately into his back - he doesn’t even have to look at you to know, he has a feeling you want something… You want him. But still, he glances to catch your dazed stare, finding himself amused by how your fuzzy eyes hazily trail after his form, your pouty lips parted slightly like you’re in a trance. He’s going to have to teach you to be subtler, though, because even as he can feel his heart squeeze in his chest from how cute you are - it’s taking everything in him to be rational and not burn the eyes of every man there - because he doesn’t want anyone else to see you right now. Because that kind of adorably inviting expression on your face should only be seen by him. Not anyone else, just him. The moment it’s his break, he’s sauntering over to you, prideful for anyone else but casual for him, an eyebrow raised. Even as he’s standing infront of you, you continue to stare up at him all dreamily, so he crosses his arms, huffing exasperatedly at your dumb look. He hasn’t even touched you yet, isn’t it too soon to make such a dumbed out expression? “You’ve been staring at me all practice, and now that I’m standing infront of you, you’re just going to be silent, hm?” He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowed playfully. It’s when you say what you say, that his eyes widen instantly. And then his eyes narrow again, except this time it’s no longer playful. Oh, you dared to say that alright. You want him inside, huh? He shifts on his feet, agitated. You couldn’t wait until after practice to tell him that? He can tell you didn’t mean to entice and tempt him as you did, with how out of it you seem, but… Knowing that you’re so out of it in the first place because of how badly you want - no - need him does something to him. And all of a sudden he finds himself fantasizing about having you in a way that makes heat rush through his body, you being all adorably submissive and ready for him, obedient as you always are, all cute whines as you plead at him with your misty eyes to just give it to you already. But of course, he won’t, and this time he won’t be dragging it out for a kind of sadistic affection to see you pout and whine, or to elongate this time of intimacy as long as possible, feel you as closely as possible. Oh no, absolutely not. This time, he’ll punish you. He’ll make you wait, even as his cock is painful and aching, even as you cry out and beg for him, your walls fluttering around nothing, he’ll make you wait for daring to let yourself voice this and be so alluring somewhere another man could see you. And also because now he feels incredibly irritated that he can’t just have you right now, that he has to wait for practice to be over, dammit. For now, he reaches his hand out and roughly ruffles the top of your hair, a successful attempt to get you to snap out of your enamoured trance and get that dumbed out look off your face right now, dammit. And as you look up at him, all wide eyes and confusion, he says, “Go wait for me in the car.” Because no way in hell is he going to let you sit out here or anywhere else and let someone catch you making a face like that again. It doesn’t matter whether it’s him you’re entranced with - of course it’s him - he can’t stand the idea of another man looking at you making that kind of face when he’s the only one allowed to see you like that. Don't forget, after all, he's the one you belong to.

Reo: at first he doesn’t pay much mind to your gaze, after all he’s used to your frequent visits to his practice, and it’s not weird for you to admire your own boyfriend and cheer him on. But he starts paying mind when a teammate elbows him and chuckles discreetly, waggling a teasing eyebrow as he makes some remark about Reo’s ‘busy night’ ahead. He looks at the man for the audacity he just stupidly sprouted to be daring to make a remark about his - Reo’s - sex life; baffled and eyebrow raised, Reo throws a couple of dismissive cold words before turning away - and then he glances towards you and ah. No wonder. Well, that explains the tomfoolery that just transpired. Although Reo responded like that to his teammate’s crass comment (of course he did, who the fuck did he think he was to try and joke around with him of all people about his partner and his�� sex life? Even if they aren’t protective or possessive like him, any other half-decent of a boyfriend should be responding like him, he thinks), now he just feels excited to be the target of your lovelorn gaze. Oh, you love him that much, do you? Want him that much? A part of his brain goes mushy and fuzzy from affection, you’re just too cute, and all his. The moment it’s time for his break, he rushes over to you, impatiently, longingly, desperately - though he tries to seem like he’s normal as he smiles at you and accepts the water bottle from your loose, dangling grasp. Thanking you sweetly and in what he hopes is a casual manner, he downs his water quickly to speak to you about your persistent stare. He cups your cheek, leaning down towards you, eyes creased and pupils saturated with love. “You’ve been looking at me the whole time like that, something wrong sweetheart?” Voice an affectionate coo, he asks you, half-teasingly, expecting you to turn bashful and avert your eyes, to allow him to chase you around with teasing like always. Except you say something that makes something lodge inside of his throat instantly, smile frozen on his face from pure shock. Did you - did you just? Quietly, he asks you to repeat your words, and when you do, in a sugary melted voice, Reo is at a loss of words. You’re still looking at him all yearningly, dazed eyes thick with desire; he can tell how out of it you are. Oh, you really do want him that much right now… And wouldn’t he be a bad boyfriend if he didn’t give it to you right now when you’re all cute and desperate like this? Wouldn’t he be just the worst if he didn’t bend you over somewhere, anywhere, sometime soon, and stuffed you full of his cock? Oh, wouldn’t he be just a sick bastard undeserving of you if he didn’t trap you into a mating press and just kept jackhammering into that wet pussy just meant for him? Breed you full of his cum and love? Just keep on loving you until you cried big fat tears and begged him ‘no more Reo, ah I can’t, p-please, I’m too sensitive!’ like you always do? ‘What’s wrong sweetheart, weren’t you the one asking for it?’ He snaps out of his little daydream when his coach calls him back to practice, saying the break is over. Reo nods, but he doesn’t move, his feet stuck as he looks down at your delirious eyes. Practice be screwed, he needs to get you home now and get inside you goddammit.

Also this was the exact expression I imagined Reo making at the nameless teammate LMFAO

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #chigiri #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #bllk chigiri #blue lock chigiri #chigiri smut #reo x you #reo mikage #reo x reader #bllk reo #reo smut #blue lock smut

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satxnsupreme666 · 1 month ago

Text

Spell gone wrong: Agatha Harkness x Fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange

Summary: Agatha gets a magical cold because of a wrong spell and this causes her to sneeze a lot and unconsciously her magic changes some things, you decide to take care of her until Wanda comes to ask for help.

Words: 3k+

Author´s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it!

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange @eliscannotdance

You would do anything for your girlfriend and you knew she would do anything for you as well, you two loved each other and Agatha told you that all the time, you told her how much you loved her whenever you could, which basically was all the time , you were really happy with her and you still couldn’t believe how lucky you were to be with her.

You still remember the day she confessed her feelings for you and how you were surprised, you had thought she would never like you the same but remembering that day when she seemed so nervous made you laugh again, you had never seen her like that, she was always so confident and watching her so nervous and almost to the point of stuttering was so cute, you smiled at the memory, she just looked so cute.

While you waited for the water in the kettle to boil your mind wandered back to the memory of how Agatha had asked you to be her girlfriend, and even though it had been years ago you still loved the memory.

The sound of the kettle woke you up from your daydream and you turned the stove off, now dinner was ready so you could call Agatha to come to the dining room.

You were about to call her, but you decided it would be better if you went to the basement, she have told you that she didn’t like you going downstairs because she was afraid that her dark magic could hurt you so she thought it was better if you didn’t go down there, but sometimes you just forget about how dangerous her magic could be, so you just kept walking to go for her, also you really liked seeing her practicing her magic, it was so cool to watch her use her powers.

You walked down the stairs and you really didn’t understand why down here was so dark but you shrugged the thought off.

“Heey, dinner´s ready, the tea is already ther-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence, you tripped over your own feet and just waited for the hit against the cold floor, closing your eyes you waited for the worst and you put your hands to cover your face.

When Agatha heard your voice, she was chanting a spell in Latin but when she saw you were about to hit the ground, she said the spell wrong and used her magic to appear right in front of you to catch you.

The pain of the hit never came, instead you felt a pair of arms grabbing your waist with a strong grip around you, you laughed a little nervous, that was intense.

Agatha helped you to stand straight but her hands never left your waist.

“Angel, you could have hurt yourself, you need to be more careful” Agatha said to you with a loving smile and then she dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“I´m sorry I didn’t see where I put my feet, you know, that stairs are really dark” She smiled at your comment and nodded, you were right, she would put some light on the walls.

“Did I interrupt you?” You looked at her shyly and she could see a hint of guilt in your eyes so she quickly reassured you

“Oh no darling, you didn’t interrupt me, I was just practicing a little but I had already finish by the time I heard your voice, you don´t have to worry love”

You didn’t believe her but you knew she had a soft spot for you, smiling you took her hand off your waist to hold it.

“If you say so, what about we head upstairs and have our dinner, together, I made your favorite meal”

Agatha felt so lucky to have you, when she told you about her magic you didn’t freak out, instead you felt intrigued and you wanted to know more about her magic, she told you she had lived for many centuries and how her coven made a trial to burn her, you didn’t understand why her coven tried to do that but Agatha explained to you that they were afraid of her magic and how all of that didn’t matter anymore, not now when you were with her.

Agatha nodded she was hungry so she let you guide her towards the kitchen, you were halfway through it when she suddenly felt dizzy and she leant a little against the wall, you stopped walking when you felt her hand leaving yours so you turned around to look at her, she looked a little paler than usual.

“Are you alright?” You came closer to her and touched her face, but when you saw her eyes you realized, they weren’t blue anymore, now they were purple just like her magic

“Love your eyes are purple, is that normal?” You asked her and Agatha bit her lip, she had said the spell but she had said it wrong, she was saying the words and just as she saw you were going to hit the ground, she said a different thing, oh no, she had got herself sick because of a misspelled conjure.

“I’m fine doll, you do not have to worry, this will wear off in the meantime, c'mon let’s go to eat dinner, I wouldn’t like if it gets cold babe” You looked at her with curious written all over your face but you decided to believe her.

Agatha really hope it would wear off, maybe it was a magic cold, or at least that’s what she hoped.

When she was younger and still in the coven, she remembered seeing the other witches getting a little sick from time to time because of misspelled conjures, it was something common actually, so maybe it was just that.

Arriving at the dining room you left her hand to go to the kitchen to grab two mugs, Agatha sat down in the chair, feeling a headache starting to grow in her head.

You poured the water into the mugs and grab the coffee and the sugar, you already knew how she liked her coffee, with some sugar and milk, so you prepared her coffee and yours, walking towards her you noticed she was grabbing her head.

“Agatha you don’t look alright, does something hurt?” You asked her while sitting in the chair next to her

“Honestly hone-

She sneezed before she could keep speaking and you heard something beside you, turning yourself to look what had happened, you realized the microwave had changed, it was not the one you had, this one was different, it looked a lot more modern than the period time you were in and around it had some purple smoke.

"Did you do that?” Agatha looked to where you were pointing your finger at and she sighed, it was definitely a magical cold.

“Yes doll, I did it, well, my magic did it, I think I got sick because of a misspelled spell, I think I just got it, it will pass, it shouldn’t last more than three days-

"You need to rest, wait, I interrupted you when you were practicing, did I make this to you? I’m sorry seriously, I shouldn’t have gone downstairs, now is my fault that you’re like this” You felt guilty, maybe if you hadn’t looked for her in the basement, this wouldn’t have happened

“This is not your fault honey, please don’t worry darling, it was just a mistake and it isn’t really that bad, this won’t hurt” Your girlfriend reassured you stroking your cheek, she always knew how to make you feel better

“I will take care of you, just like you have done many times with me” You wanted to do things right and that included making sure she was alright.

Agatha smiled, you looked so cute with that serious look on your face, she really had wanted to eat dinner with you, but now she didn’t feel like eating.

“I need to lay in our bed, I’m really sorry I just feel dizzy and I don’t think I can eat, I feel so bad, I really wanted to have dinner with you, but I don’t think I can” You felt her hand stroking your hair and you couldn’t blame her, she looked so pale

“You don’t have to worry; we always eat together so this isn’t really a big deal” Smiling at her you took her hand

“I will make sure you’re alright, come let’s get you to bed, then I will come back here to clean everything”

“I can use my magic to-

"No, no more magic Agatha” You said to her with a serious look on your face.

“You won’t be using your magic until you’re better, alright?” Your girlfriend smiled, you were just so sweet and the only thing she could do was to nod.

You stood from the chair ready to go downstairs to your shared bedroom, Agatha stood up as well and she pressed her arm around your waist, you unconsciously leant into her and the two of you started to walk towards your shared bedroom.

“You know what? Even though I really love your blue eyes, purple looks amazing too” It was true, her eyes were beautiful of course, you loved them.

Your girlfriend gave a chuckle in response to your comment.

“Oh dear, I love the color of your eyes too” Agatha looked at you with dreamy eyes, whenever you told her what you loved about her heart melted.

“Now you just have to rest” You were going to open the door but Agatha did it and she smirked.

“This is not so bad doll; I really don’t need to rest I-”

Agatha didn’t finish her sentence because she sneezed again, and this time her magic affected the flat tv in your room, the tv changed itself into a smaller old one, it kind of reminded you of the 70’s period time which you had already passed, now you were in the 2000’s according to what your girlfriend Agatha had told you some days before.

“See? You need to rest” She saw the grin on your face and sighed maybe you were right.

“Come lay with me angel” You saw the little pout on Agatha´s face so you gave her peck on her lips.

“Give some minutes to clean downstairs and then I will come, alright?

“Ok, but hurry darling” Smiling you went back to the dining room and you were about to order things but someone rang your doorbell, that was strange, you went to open the door and you saw Wanda in front of you.

“Hey y/n I hope I´m not interrupting anything important I was just wondering if you and Agnes could help me to choose some ideas for the decoration for my children´s party” You couldn’t say no, you just, didn’t have the heart, you had really wanted to lay with Agatha in bed, what if you just tell her that she was sick? Maybe she would understand

“Oh no Wanda, you´re not bothering us, is just that-

“Hiya Wanda, what brings you here?” You turned yourself to look at Agatha and you saw that she had black polarized sunglasses on, this was a bad idea.

You let Wanda in and she happily thanked you

“Well as I was telling y/n I was hoping that you could help me to find the right decorations for the boys´ birthday party” Wanda showed you some magazines and she handed you one, you took it and started to look at the pictures, their birthday party would be the next day, so of course she was going to use her magic, there was no doubt

“Nice sunglasses by the way Agnes” You couldn’t believe it, did she really didn’t find strange that Agatha had that type of sunglasses, inside the house where the wasn’t literally any sunrays? Wow, you couldn’t even, was she serious? You didn’t even understand how was it possible that she didn’t find this whole situation at least a little bit odd, but well, who were you to judge, right? You shrugged it off.

“Oh thank you dear, my love y/n gave them to me” Agatha walked closer to you to drop a kiss on your forehead

Wanda scrunched her nose in excitement, she thought you were a really cute couple.

“So, will the party be a themed party?” You asked, the pictures on the magazine were pretty cool, you even wished you had children to make an amazing themed party of whatever you liked.

“Wow this is really cool” You said out loud when you saw a picture of a carnival themed party

“If I were one of your children, I would definitely choose the carnival themed party, this looks awesome”

Wanda chuckled and went to see what you were looking at in the magazine

“You´re right this looks cool, Tommy likes the carrousel and Bill-

Agatha sneezed again and your eyes widened, oh no, this time Wanda will notice what was going on, you looked to the ceiling and you saw how the lamps changed, they were replaced by some vintage lamps, and you saw how Wanda was raising her head to look at the ceiling too, but Agatha with her magic made that one apple fell from the nearest table, and Wanda went to pick the apple up.

“Bless you Agnes” You heard Wanda said while she was picking the apple and you looked at your girlfriend, you moved your hands at her up and down without saying something, you tried to communicate with her moving your head too, Agnes just shrugged her shoulders and moved her hands in a hasty way in an attempt of telling you that it was not her fault.

When Wanda turned herself to look at the both of you, you and Agatha stopped moving and smiled at her at the same time.

“Thank you, Wanda, I think is because of the flowers on the vase” Agatha brought her hand to touch her nose with her fingers and Wanda looked at the flowers on the table.

“I thought they were artificial flowers” Said Wanda and bit your lip.

“Not that flowers Wanda, she was talking about some other flowers we have in our room, she um, she brought them for me and I decided to put them on our nightstand” You tried to act as calm as possible, if she discovered Agnes was not Agnes and that she had powers, you would be so fucked up.

“Oh I see, well maybe some pills would help, I think I have some pills for allergies, maybe I could give you some” You sighed, Wanda believed you

“That would be lovely, right y/n?” Agatha asked you and you quickly nodded

“Yes, absolutely, so. Why don´t we decide which decorations you should pick Wanda?” You asked her grabbing her arm to drag her to the couches, you sat in one and she sat next to you.

“So, as I was telling you, Tommy likes carrousels and Billy loves caramel apples”

“See, so the Carnival would be a great choice” Looking at her, you hoped she would go for it

“What do you think Agnes?” Wanda looked towards Agatha who was drinking water

“I think that a carnival themed party would be amazing, just imagine having a carousel on your backyard, some clowns, some fair stalls and even you could make a magic show with Vision”

Wanda seemed to like the idea and she thought about it for a minute before quickly standing from the couch and she looked at the two of you with happiness, her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

“Thank you so much, you´re right I will tell the boys, they will love the idea, thank you so much, I will leave now, I hope to see you tomorrow at the party, there will be a lot of things” With that Wanda left your house, you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“We´re so lucky that she didn’t notice Agatha” She came closer to you to stroke your shoulders and she gave you a soft peck on your lips.

“Now that Wanda´s gone we can rest in our bed; would you like that baby girl? We can relax a little” Agatha passed her arms around your waist she pulled you closer to her and one of her hands dangerously started to raise your shirt, her fingers caressing the soft skin of your abdomen, you shivered under her touch, she knew exactly what she was doing, and the power she had over you this time.

“I think I like your idea, a lot” You grabbed her by her collar shirt to kiss her, this time with more passion, the kiss was no longer innocent, Agatha bit your lower lip and you moaned, she needed more, the sound coming from your lips made her knees go weak, Agatha broke the kiss to lift your chin and made you look straight into her eyes, you took the sunglasses off her face and tossed them on the couch.

“Now let´s go upstairs baby girl, I want to show you how much I love you” Agatha took your hand to drag you to your shared bedroom, you will have an amazing night. Hopefully her magical cold wouldn’t be a problem, but it didn’t matter, you were going to enjoy this night.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #mcu imagine #wandavision #mcu x reader #agatha all along #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you

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eclipse-has-come · 1 month ago

Text

— John Price Imagine

Thinking about John Price being a victorian era gentleman that died young and owning an antique shop in a building that used to belong to him (he's haunting it).

Warnings: Kinda stalking? "He's a ghost living with you and you don't believe that he exists so he watches you go about your day" kind of stalking so if you're uncomfortable with that, you're welcome to sit this one out.

A/N: Hello everyone! It's my first post on here and i still don't really get tumblr so some things might look a bit weird. I have not written in so long I might as well have forgotton how to do so but I had this dream the other day and i had to write it down because omg it made me feral. Disclaimer, I am not a native english speaker and i have no beta reader so if there are any mistakes, I do apologize!

Anyway, enough about stuff you don't care about, enjoy this short imagine based on my dream!

You finished up your degree not too long ago and your neverending search for a job keeps going nowhere. Everyday you would submit your cv to at least 5 different employers and most of the time, you only received an answer from one. Every interview you managed to snag was a miracle in and of itself. Too bad those didn't go anywhere either.

Everyday while going to your bus stop, you'd see an old victorian building. While once upon a time It would have been a beautiful structure, now it's only a shadow of it's former self. When you first passed the vintage store-front while walking back from yet another failed interview, you payed little to no attention to the dilapitated bricks. That was until you got back to your flat one day and realized it reminded you of an old antique shop you used to visit back home.

Back then it was run by a kind elderly lady, who would always give you old toys that didn't sell well, you recall fondly. Back then younger you was fully convinced that your future was to one day run an antique store just like that.

It should've been just an ordinary morning but the day after you reminisced about the antique shop, something strange happened. While walking your usual route, you noticed with the corner of your eye a man standing on the stairs leading up to the entrance of the victorian building. You ignored him at first (no use in getting involved), until you saw him walk inside- no, phase inside the building.

You honestly didn't even register what had happened until you were walking back home, passing the cursed building yet again. You stopped in front of the entrance, resignation filling you, whatever demon wanted you to check out this poor lump of bricks and giving you weird visions in the process, it had won. Walking up the stairs, you spotted a lone flyer posted on the door:

"FOR SALE"

Underneath the large words was a poorly scratched on number that you could barely make out. That evening you sat on your couch, debating whether to call or not. If you were being honest with yourself, you were running out of options fast and growing more and more desperate by the hour. You sighed heavily and entered the number into your phone.

The cheap price should have been the first red flag, the previous owner claimed it was haunted and "wanted to be rid of the headache as soon as possible" or so they said. When you first entered the inside, you were in absolute awe, It was beautifully adorned with carved patterns, seemingly transporting you back in time.

An apartment was located on the second floor of the building, adding to the convenience of this inexpensive investment. The large display windows were eye catching and even though the building could use a lot bit of work, you could already see just how incredible it would look. Well, you always were a fan of fixer-uppers.

During your diy renovations however, some strange occurrences started to catch your attention. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary, a floorboard creaking (it is a very old building after all) or maybe a box falling over (shouldn’t have packed so much!) but then it starts getting harder and harder to ignore.

Paint splashes on the wall with the bucket it belonged to on the other side of the room, cracks in the window appearing overnight etc. You truly didn’t believe in the paranormal and when the previous owner warned you, you ignored it, waving it off as some guy's crazy talk but this was becoming a little too hard to scientifically explain.

Even still, you powered through, pointedly ignoring any and all warning signs. However annoying these inconveniences were, they weren't truly malicious. No harm ever came to you nor the antiques you got and by the time the store was ready to open, you could only sigh in relief. All of the blood, sweat and tears you poured into this project finally paid off, your younger self would have gone ballistic if they saw you now.

Walking through the aisles filled with old trinkets, admiring their unique charm and the way they looked on the hand-built shelves. You sincerely hoped the next owners would appreciate them just as much as you.

Opening day was incredibly exciting, you were certainly not expecting the amount of people coming to see the new store. Turns out the previous owner was well known in the community, ("The building was passed down through generations!" One lady told you while admiring the ornamental chandelier you installed.) which made many residents eager to meet the next unlucky owner.

What pleased you most of all, is that all unusual situations ceased or at the very least, you stopped noticing them. Which would be understandable, a week into opening and the store was full of hustle and bustle. It truly warmed your heart to see that others treated these unusual objects with as much reverence as you held for them. If there really was a ghost here, then they must agree that what you'd done for the place was for the better, you giggled to yourself.

You turned the ‘closed’ sign around just as the clock struck six on Saturday evening. Even though you're beyond happy the whole store thing worked out, you can't deny that you're incredibly tired. Who knew constant social interaction and standing all day would cause you to want to curl up in your bed all sunday. Walking towards the stairs leading to your apartment, you observed the half-empty shelves, a satisfied huff leaving your lungs. Walking up the creaking stairs, you noted down in your brain to put some paintings on the plain staircase.

Entering the old flat you tiredly trudged through the still unorganised rooms (almost all of your time was spent on the downstairs of the building, your living space was just an afterthought during the renovations), you entered the bathroom to take a long scalding shower. Due to your tiredness however, you failed to notice the near silent footsteps following you.

After several minutes of nearly boiling yourself to relax, you step out of the shower. Careful not to slip, you reach for your softest towel. ‘You worked really hard and now you could finally pamper yourself’ you decided. With your mind set, you turn over to the mirror ready to start your skincare routine when you suddenly freeze in your tracks.

On the steamed up mirror, a short sentence managed to make you reconsider your opinion on the paranormal up until this point. Written in neat letters and gorgeous handwriting, there it was:

"Hello Darling"

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coffee-and-tea-time · 7 months ago

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 ｢better that sleeping pills｣ 𓆩♡𓆪

Hi! Coffee being delusional speaking! This time I was wondering

How did you deal with your sleep problems, dear?

TW: stalking, yandere behavior, delusions, insomniac reader, sleeping pills mention, somewhat willing reader, light paranoia?

Yet again another night dealing with insomnia, being told over and over that you should stop using the phone at night and, instead, pretend to sleep, that eventually dreamland will come to you like that. People that don't know what it is to be alone with thoughts and exasperation. But once again, you try to do so, hoping that maybe this time it would actually help.

tik tok tik tok tik tok

How much time has passed? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? You try to keep your mind on blank but it's impossible at some point.

An unexpected sound catch quickly your interest although you can't really recognize it, trying to dismiss it, thinking must've an hallucination or something outside, in the silence of the night, people tend to be more perspective to any sounds, right?

And just like a bad plot, once your body relaxes, you hear that sound again. . . Unconsciously welcoming the return to old habits, covering more with the blankets and turning around with the eyes still closed, as if that will make a safe shield.

Alright, this isn't your first rodeo, your brain's favorite hobby surely is playing tricks to scare the hell out of you. Taking a deep breath to relax once again, choosing to be delusional to forget everything has to be the best option right now.

What about if the sounds are because a stalker helplessly in love with you just broke into your house? A good night kiss on the forehead sounds lovely, maybe the dark romance or Tumblr posts are affecting your brain already but why care? Cuddling to sleep with someone that loves you unconditionally sounds like a perfect situation, you wouldn't really mind your sleeplessness if you could have that.

Although the normal will be calling the police, why do so if it's not a threat? In your mind, you picture your perfect obsessive s/o, no need to worry about being cheated on if the only thing in his eyes is you, no need to worry about being too much, no need to worry about his feelings ever fading away, isn't that perfect? Yes, it may come with some disadvantages like everything, but nothing you can't handle, you just need to love them, and they will be happy on a daily basis.

As you smile because of your silly fantasies while looking 'asleep' on the outside, you hear an even more unexpected sound. . . a whispering.

“oh, are you having a good sleep? It worries me how long it takes you to sleep every night, it's gonna end up being awful for your health. Maybe it will be better if I start using sleeping pills on you? You always do so much, you need a good rest, my cherry”

You stay still, unable to think what to do, a light but sweet smell invades your nostrils. Does this count as manifestation? Why is he already calling you by a pet name?

“My lovely cherry, my heart ache when I think about how exasperating must feel to hear the constant naging of those who don't really care about at least try empathize, if only I could help with something, I won't think it twice”

Feeling a gentle caress on your hair makes you wonder, this doesn't feel bad at all. Common sense screaming that you need to worry but the warm feeling of his touch disperse that though faster than you're willing to admit.

“Mmm, maybe my desires are taking over my brain already? But I think a perfect medicine for you will be if you snuggle in my embrace, I promise to have the right temperature for you to be comfy all night… if you just let me kiss that addictive face of yours, it will be enough payment for even my soul if you wish to have it”

His voice… sounds familiar, do you know him?

Even if you recognize that self-preservation should be a top priority, it's hard to care when his voice is this honeyed, using the exact words that attract you like a bee as if he can read your mind. As you feel a faint kiss on the top of your head, you start to ask yourself…

Is bad manners not to reply when someone speaks to you, isn't it? Or maybe it's better to keep pretending to sleep to see what he usually does?

Decisions decisions…

➤ keep pretending

➤ Say something

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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lxnarphase · 1 month ago

Note

do you have any advice for new writers who want to start posting on tumblr?

Oh man, I'm gonna give you a list of things I wish I could've told myself when I first started posting.

Some Basic Tips:

Don't be scared to post! You'll never see growth in your followers, mutuals, and even your writing if you don't post!

Be open to asking others for help or advice if you struggle with writing. I sometimes ask some of my mutuals for help or read fanfiction to see how others write a scene. Then, I take the knowledge and write it in my own way. For example, I do well with writing dialogue but find myself always struggling with how to start the story.

Don't be afraid to post about non-writing things, too! Remember, you deserve to have fun on your account, so post what you want. You aren't a machine. You are a person!

The number of notes you get doesn't determine your worth or skill in writing. In my opinion, Tumblr has shifted a bit, making it harder for smaller writers to get likes, reblogs, or comments on their works.

But at the end of the day, in order to enjoy being a writing blog on Tumblr, you have to enjoy what you are writing and posting. Do not feel like you have to force yourself to write just for the numbers, let it happen naturally. Things will start out slow at first, as all things do, but you'll get to a point where you can barely keep up with things.

Post and Blog Formatting + Style:

Formatting is really important! Break up paragraphs, ask a friend to be a beta reader, and for longer works, go back and proofread if you have the time! It's okay if you have minor mistakes, though. I tend to miss things in my writing, and when I return a week later, I just fix them. No big deal!

Nowadays, aesthetics is HUGE for fanfiction posts and your account. Channel your creativity and style! Make your blog super pretty in your own way! It can be pink and cutesy, black and edgy, simple and clean, or colorful and cluttered! Don't have a blank blog!

PUT YOUR AGE CLEARLY SOMEWHERE! In your bio, pinned post, SOMEWHERE IT IS EASY TO SEE. I have had writing accounts follow me but no age, so I don't feel comfortable engaging with them.

You can take inspiration from other accounts (don't outright copy, though) on how they format their fanfictions. You will probably notice a lot of accounts have headers, dividers, or colored text. You can do that too, as it can catch the readers attention.

I get headers from doujins and mangas I read, websites such as Pinterest are good for cute ones, and Twitter is your go-to for more NSFW headers.

Create a tagging system to make navigating your blog easier, and have a pinned post with links to your rules/byf/masterlist/etc.

Try to put warnings in your writing. A lot of people have filters on to avoid the types of content they don't want to see, but there are the occasional people who don't put warnings in the writing post itself. It could be a simple tag or a list of themes at the beginning of the post.

An example would be a post with the tag #dubcon #tw dubcon OR putting "cw: dubcon" in the post itself before the writing itself.

This is a tag vs. in the actual post

Tagging and Reblogs

Speaking of tags, USE THE TAGGING SYSTEM! If you don't tag your post with popular fanfiction tags, it will be hard for people to find you.

Only the first twenty tags will show up in Tumblr search, including your own blog. Reblogs will not show up in tracked tags or searches.

However, don't feel bad for reblogging your own works again. Do it as many times as you want. You created something and should feel proud of it! I still reblog things from January just because.

Making Mutuals

Don't be afraid to engage with other accounts. That's how you make friends on here! But here's something important:

Be genuine. Make mutuals because you enjoy each other's work, AND both have fun talking with each other! If someone doesn't add you back as a mutual, that is okay; don't feel like they have something against you! Making mutuals shouldn't be your only goal when posting on Tumblr. Otherwise, you might tire yourself out mentally. It took me a while to make mutuals on here, but I'm glad it did it naturally instead of trying to force it.

Asks and Anons

Once you build a following, you will get the most wonderful, loving, and supportive anons in your inbox! Cherish them, respond to them, and have fun with them! Because there is a very high chance, you will also get assholes in your inbox.

I say this from the bottom of my heart but do NOT give hateful people your attention because that is what they thrive on. I still get them, but when I tell you I am at so much peace, I block and delete the messages and carry on.

If a certain message bothers me for a bit, then I just take a little break, talk to some friends about what happened, and do what helps me calm down so I don't act rashly. Don't be afraid to turn off anonymous messages for a while. This is YOUR blog, not theirs.

Don't feel pressured to answer every ask or fulfill every request. Take your time because that can burn you out! I love socializing so much, but sometimes I just pull a blank on how to respond to my asks. I always ensure my mutuals and followers know that I'm not ignoring them and just tend to go blank-brained with some asks, OR I save some of them to look at when I'm sad!

Overall, just start and DO IT FOR YOURSELF.

That's the best advice for when you want to make anything. You just have to start posting and learning and improving as you go on. Hopefully, this will sort of help. I know it's not the best list of advice, but it's just some things I would tell myself back when I first started.

If you have any other questions, I can try my best to answer them!

#˗ˏˋ ★ check it out .ᐟ #this is much longer than i meant it to be #SO SORRY #˗ˏˋ ★ guides .ᐟ

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gffa · 1 year ago

Text

Over the last week, I decided to go ahead with bookmarking all the fics I've recommended over the years on AO3 since I abide by tumblr poll results always (and man pour one out for all the fic that never made it to AO3 or has since been deleted, sooooo many gems lost to time!) and it was a bit more than the ~3,000 I was expecting:

Hopefully, this will be easier than browsing the hundreds of recs posts I've made, since you can filter for any of the author's tags now! These are mostly focused on Star Wars and DC fandom, but I did my time in the anime mines and occasional tours through some TV fandoms or movies. You can dig into everything unfiltered and start your own filtering, or the bigger fandoms you'll find:

MAJOR FANDOMS: Each of these should have 100+ at minimum and, in the case of Star Wars, literally almost half of them are in that fandom. Look, Star Wars fandom might be a trash fire in a lot of ways, but it is ON FIRE with some good fic. (Older bookmarks not guaranteed to match my current sentiments, especially re: the Jedi, but they did catch my fancy at that point in time!)

STAR WARS: - All Star Wars -OR- All Star Wars minus the Obi-Wan/Anakin ship - OR- Nothing BUT Obi-Wan/Anakin

BATMAN/DC: - DC can sometimes be tricky, but you can do a Batman* search and get most of them (though, sometimes Nightwing* or Young Justice* or Superman* will catch some of the others). Honestly, though, you might want to just do a search for what character or dynamic you like and have fun from there, because otherwise you're getting a face full of my Dick Grayson Is The Center Of The Universe And I'm Making That Everyone Else's Problem agenda. ;)

MARVEL/MCU: - Marvel* will probably get most of the various properties, though you may want to filter for Defenders* or Guardians of the Galaxy* if you're interested -OR- Marvel* without the Thor/Loki - These focus a lot on the Thor* fandom if you want to witness the results of like 8 years of constant voracious reading in that fandom (Minus the ship), because, seriously, I read a LOT of Odinson family fic. - Bonus, just do a search for Maximoff* to find some really good X-Men: First Class-verse because, listen, I have been ALL ABOUT the Maximoff twins since long before the movies or MCU brought them over and I will DIE ON THE HILL of "Marvel, make Magneto their bio-dad again or I'm never reading another comic of yours ever".

TOLKIEN/LORD OF THE RINGS/SILMARILLION/HOBBIT: - Tolkien* -OR- Hobbit* -OR- Lord of the Rings* searches will turn up most of my Elf-hunting, I primarily focus on the Sindar Elves, but look I can't resist my problematic Feanorian faves or that I will die on the hill that Fingolfin is the best ever. (You have NO IDEA how sad I am that so much fic on Stories of Arda or FFNET is not easily bookmarked on AO3, sob. I externally bookmarked a few of the bigger ones, but sooo many shorter faves are missing from my recs tag.)

CLAMP: - X/Tokyo Babylon legitimately bums me out because it's not a huge fandom and yet so much of what was written was pre-AO3 and lost when CLAMPesque went down or was never brought over from Livejournal, yet this fandom (well, the Seishirou/Subaru pairing) still burns brightly in my heart.

BOOKS: Chrestomanci | Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

DRAMAS: Nirvana in Fire | The Untamed -OR- Modao Zu Shi

VIDEO GAMES: Dragon Age: Inquisition | Final Fantasy 8 | Genshin Impact | Okami

BANDS: Arashi

All right, whew, that was actually a fun project, despite how much work it was to hunt down a lot of older faves to see if they were on AO3, hopefully you'll find this useful!

#lumi.txt #fic recs #star wars fic recs #batman fic recs

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hehetmongi · 3 months ago

Text

fever pitch - (kang yeosang/reader)

summary: you're on your period; yeosang comes home early to help you out. also cross posted to ao3

pairing: kang yeosang x reader

tags: alternate universe - modern setting, established relationship, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, menstrual sex, vaginal fingering, shower sex, hurt/comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, 18+ mdni

word count: 4.1k

note: cis woman reader. centers heavily on menstruation and there's a bit of unsanitary-ness (reader bleeds on the sheets accidentally) so please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable!

due to tumblr's formatting, yeosang's texts are in bold and reader's texts are italicized. if this is difficult for you to read, i highly encourage checking out the ao3 link instead!

You wake to an ache between your legs, and not in a fun way.

You groan as you sit up, the sensations coming in faster and sharper than you anticipate. Your head pounds, your feet feel numb, but the worst of it is your abdomen. The cramping, the exhaustion, the vague feeling like you’ve wet yourself, or something — yeah, you’ve been through this enough times to know this is your period hitting you like a truck.

You can already tell it’ll be a painful one. You’re not exactly regular, and when your period does come in, you’re usually out of it for a few days due to the pain. It’s always been this way, and you can manage fine on your own, but you have to admit that you’d really like Yeosang’s company.

With a glance at the alarm clock — reading 8:42am, from where you can see it over Yeosang’s empty side of the bed — you trudge out of Yeosang’s room. You brace an arm against the wall as you make your way to the bathroom, narrowly dodging Wooyoung’s hip-check as he passes you in the hallway.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

You glare daggers at him. When he catches your eyes, he staggers a few exaggerated steps back.

“Geez, you look pissed. ”

You ignore him, deciding he’s not even worth the energy. It takes considerable effort to clean yourself up and into a fresh new pad, but thankfully you didn’t get any blood on your shorts. You take a quick painkiller before heading straight back to bed. You have the day off, but it’s not as though you’re going to spend it relaxing.

You clutch a plushie — a Doberman toy Yeosang gifted you on your third date — toward your abdomen. It’s nice to have something to grasp onto and that reminds you of him, you think, as you roll over to the nightstand by Yeosang’s side of the bed. You grab your phone, quickly glancing at the notifications you haven’t read. You gloss over the emails (mostly ads and a couple of work emails you won’t actually open until you’re on the clock) and smile at your iMessages.

MESSAGES - 45m

yeosang <3

Miss you so much 🥺

MESSAGES - 2h

yeosang <3

Let me know when you wake up!

MESSAGES - 2h

yeosang <3

Good morning 🥰

Your heart swells with warmth. Your relationship with Yeosang is still somewhat new, but every day he reminds you that this is real, and you are incredibly lucky to have someone as kind and loving as him as a partner. So far, your lives seem to slot together perfectly — cute dates, spending the night at each other's apartments, soft touches and meaningful conversations — he was everything you dreamed of, and more. It almost seems too good to be true.

(Admittedly, part of you is waiting for the ball to drop. A relationship this happy has to change eventually. And since Yeosang is such a perfect partner, you suspect you’ll probably be the cause.)

You roll onto your back, tapping a quick message in response. You don’t want him to get too worried, but you figure you should say something so he knows you won’t be responding to any future messages right away.

good morning! 💛💖 sorry i’m late baby!

just got my period :( i feel gross and really tired

You blush a little at your use of a pet name. You know he likes it, but you’re still not sure if it sounds right. You want him to feel as endeared as you do when he uses pet names for you.

His reply comes less than a minute later.

There you are!! Good morning, my dear 🥰

No worries. Please take it easy today. I’ll be thinking of you~

Something in your stomach flips, but you’re not sure if it’s from your period or if that’s the effect Yeosang has on you. You settle on it being a little bit of both as you start to type your reply.

i love you 🫶

wish you were here!

Ah, do you want me to come home early and take care of you?

I’d be happy to do that ^_^

nono i’ll be fine!! promise!!

please don’t worry about me i swear i’m fine :’)

I’ll come home in a heartbeat. Just say the word

You clutch your plushie close to your chest. Having Yeosang take care of you would be a really lovely way to spend the day. Much better than staying holed up in Yeosang’s room, clutching your stomach as you hear Wooyoung fumbling around in the kitchen, at least. But you know Yeosang is working hard, and you really don’t want to take him from that.

I have to go :( send me updates? I want to hear how your day is going

You can let Wooyoung know if you need help too. He’s good with this type of thing.

You scrunch your nose. While you like Wooyoung fine, and he’s pretty good at giving you and Yeosang privacy when you need it, you’re not exactly comfortable asking him for help with something like cramps. It feels… personal, and incredibly burdensome. And if you’re already hesitating to ask Yeosang for that kind of help, what business do you have asking his roommate?

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. It opens a crack before you hear Wooyoung call your name aloud, and you grunt in response. Wooyoung must take it as an affirmative, because he opens it wide.

“Yeosang said you’re not feeling well,” he announces, glancing down at his phone, “and that I should keep an eye on you until he’s home.”

You frown. “Um, thank you, but I don’t really need help.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow.

You try to step out of bed, but a knife twists in your gut and pins and needles twist all along your legs. The sensation makes you wince, sucking in a large gulp of air.

Wooyoung rushes to your side, taking your arm to steady you. When he hears your stuttering breath, he shakes his head. “Don’t… do that. Just stay in bed. I’ll cook you something.”

You blanch. “You really don’t have—”

“Shut up,” he says, eyes softening when he meets your gaze. You wonder what you must look like, to him. “Er… just, sit and relax for a sec. I insist.”

You really do try to relax, once he leaves. You scroll through social media as Wooyoung whips up something simple. You shoot Yeosang a quick Wooyoung’s making me breakfast! ❣️ as you wait, to which you receive a bunch of silly looking stickers in return.

“It’s not contagious, is it?” Wooyoung asks a few moments later, carrying a delicious-smelling tray toward your bed.

You realize, then, that Yeosang must have been pretty discreet about what was ailing you in his conversation with Wooyoung. The thought of period cramps being contagious makes you suck in a giggle.

“I really hope not,” you scoff, and when Wooyoung furrows his brow, you explain, “it’s just cramps. I get them really bad.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widen a little. He sets the tray down next to you, and you take it in earnest. It’s a simple meal, just soup and rice and eggs, but somehow it smells amazing. “They’re bad enough that you can’t walk ?”

“It’s like that for a lot of people,” you explain.

Wooyoung only hums, taking a seat in Yeosang’s desk chair and swiveling it around and around. Apparently he's here to stay.

You take a few bites of your meal, letting your mind wander a little. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve spent the night at Yeosang’s place, but you still feel kind of awkward here when it’s just you and Wooyoung. You know they’ve known each other for years — much longer than you’ve known Yeosang — and the thought intimidates you. How many of Yeosang’s partners has Wooyoung known? How many crushes and hookups? Does Yeosang tell Wooyoung things about your relationship that you’re not privy to?

“He’s blowing up my phone, you know,” Wooyoung says suddenly. He turns his phone screen around, and sure enough, you see at least half a dozen messages from Yeosang loaded on his lockscreen. You can’t read them from here, but you can guess that they're about you.

“He doesn’t want me to show you,” Wooyoung continues, “but he’s really concerned. He cares about you a lot.”

You feel yourself flush. This shouldn’t surprise you, not when you’ve been seeing each other for three months already, but something about the earnestness of it all still makes you feel weak in the knees.

You opt not to respond to Wooyoung, focusing on your plate instead. You finish it dutifully, and Wooyoung is by your side in an instant, taking the tray in his hands before moving to leave Yeosang’s room.

“Thank you so much for cooking,” you tell him as he starts to walk away. "You really didn't have to."

“Mmhmm. You’re someone special to him, so,” Wooyoung mutters, just before he exits. You’re left wondering what he could possibly mean by that until sleep finds you again.

When you wake, it’s still morning. Abdominal pain slices you deeper, twisting into an amorphous form, vicious and unrelenting.

You shift, letting out an involuntary whine when you feel something damp pooling beneath you. Sure enough, there is a dark red puddle between your legs, staining Yeosang’s bed sheets. All at once, your body begins to shut down as the pain coils tighter and tighter, leaving you little room to breathe.

You let out a sob. It’s been a long, long time since your cramps have given you this much trouble. Of course it had to happen while you were alone at Yeosang’s apartment. You can already feel the shame and disgust twisting alongside the horrible feeling in your gut.

In a flash, Wooyoung is at the door, footsteps thundering down the hallway. His eyes are wide as saucers as he takes in your slumped form. He rushes to you, and you feel his hands on your shoulders, but your perception of things fades in and out. All you can think of is the sheets, the pool of blood still under your body, how fucking ashamed you are to make a mess of things, that you couldn’t take care of yourself better on your own—

Wooyoung shakes your arm hard, cutting through your panic like a blade.

“Do you need to go to the hospital!?” he shouts, crisp alertness palpable in his bright eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I, um, I don’t think—?”

“Like hell you don’t,” he scowls, grabbing his phone and starting to type out a text. You grab at his wrist, and he gives you a sharp, incredulous look.

“I’m fine, really,” you promise, doing your best to suppress your wince. “But…”

“But what, you’re clearly in pain!”

You let out a shaky breath. The words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can really think them over.

“Could you, maybe, ask for Yeosang to come home?” You suck in a breath, knowing that it’ll be hard to be so vulnerable in front of him but you don’t care — you need his comfort. “I know he’s busy at practice but I… really need him right now. Please.”

At that, Wooyoung seems to soften, pulling his hand softly from your grip. He nods, opening his phone and pulling up Yeosang’s contact. He dials Yeosang’s number, then puts his phone between his ear and his shoulder when Yeosang picks up on the first ring.

“How soon can you be back at the apartment?” Wooyoung asks. His tone seems firm, you think, but you wonder if there’s something else in it Yeosang can hear from him that you can’t. “Yeah, she’s in a lot of pain. I think she had a panic attack, too. Keeps asking for you.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flit over to yours. “He wants to talk to you,” he says, so you nod and take the phone.

“H-hi...”

“Baby,” Yeosang gasps, tight with concern.

Instantly, your eyes well with tears. You miss him. It’s only been a few hours since you were sleeping in his arms, even sooner since you’ve exchanged texts, but you can feel the ache deep in your chest all the same.

“Shhhh,” he coos, gentle as ever. “I’ll be home in fifteen. Will you be okay?”

You take in a small, hiccupping breath. “I… think so.”

“Good girl,” he says, and your heart flutters. You can hear something clicking in the background. “Do you want me to stay on the line until I’m back?”

“Please.”

“It’ll be okay ,” he promises, then breathes out your name in a way that makes your head tingle pleasantly. “Take some deep breaths with me. Can you do that, sweetheart?"

You shake your head. “I ruined your sheets,” you tell him, your voice wobbling. “I’m so, so sorry, Yeo, but there’s so much blood, I don’t think it’ll come out—”

“Y/n,” he says, stern, halting your ramble in its tracks. "It’s fine, I promise. They can be replaced.”

“I just…” you shift, wincing again at the puddle between your thighs. “It feels so gross. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re not,” he assures you. “It’s a perfectly normal thing your body does. You just need to be taken care of.” You don’t agree with him — this is the most disgusting you’ve ever felt in ages — but your heart melts all the same.

You hadn’t noticed Wooyoung slipping out of the room, but he returns carrying a couple of towels that he puts down next to you. You scooch and roll over onto them, a little relieved to not be bleeding directly on the bed anymore. Wooyoung hovers by the door as Yeosang leads you through some deep breathing exercises over the phone. It takes a few minutes, but your heart rate is gradually slowing down.

"I’ll be right there, dear,” Yeosang tells you, your heart finally steady after what has to have been at least twenty rounds of box breathing. You hear his key twisting in the key hole a few moments later and then he’s bursting past Wooyoung and into his room, taking in the sight of you and enveloping you into his strong arms.

You think, though you’re too shy to admit it out loud, that he looks really handsome like this. Sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, dark hair swept back, his full attention on you. You feel your cheeks go pink as he tucks you into his sturdy chest.

He presses a kiss to your temple and just like that, your heart is racing again.

“My strong, beautiful girlfriend,” he murmurs. The sound of his deep voice so close to your ear makes you shudder. “So patient for me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He sweeps one arm underneath your legs and you hesitantly circle your arms around his neck, trying your best to avoid your middle touching him too closely.

“Don’t wanna get blood on you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing the tip of your nose, and you allow yourself to believe him.

In moments, Yeosang has you sitting on a stool in the shower. Your bloody shorts have been discarded into the sink, along with the tank top you slept in. Ordinarily, you might’ve felt uncomfortable being so exposed and vulnerable in front of him while you’re not feeling 100%, but now, you just feel content.

When Yeosang pulls off his shirt and pants, leaving him only in a pair of black boxer briefs, you feel something thrum beneath your fingertips. Even after a handful of intimate nights together, you’re still surprised by his boldness, the way that he holds himself so confidently behind closed doors, just for you to see. You feel shy when Yeosang steps into the shower behind you, closing the curtain.

If the dried blood between your legs bothers Yeosang, he shows no indication. He just smiles at you warmly as he gets the water running, gently massaging your upper arms to keep you comfortable. Once the water gets warm enough, he sets you under the stream. The warm water feels delightful on your back, even more so when Yeosang runs a loofa under it and washes your body.

“You really don't have to do all of this,” you tell him, but one of his hands finds your elbow and stops you in your tracks.

“Let me help you,” Yeosang whispers, “please.”

You swallow. There’s something wanting in his eyes that you can’t quite put into words.

The loofa hesitantly brushes against the top of your knee, and you let go.

His touch, solid but gentle, finds you in your most tender spots. His fingers start at your thighs, scrubbing gently at the dried blood. Each time he touches you there is a question in his eyes, an is this okay? that you meet with unhesitant permission.

When his fingers brush the top of your stomach, inching nearer and nearer to your tender breasts, you gasp.

“Sorry,” he giggles, but you hold his hand against the swell of your breast, keeping him there. His slender fingers knead at them softly, leaning down to kiss you. It’s all lips and tongue, sensual and fluid, and when he sucks on your tongue it pulls a needy, involuntary noise from the back of your throat.

Yeosang is good at kissing. It almost embarrasses you when your toes curl from just a few seconds of making out — from experience, you know he’s barely even getting started — but you know how much he likes it when you’re vocal about how much you appreciate him.

“Yeosang,” you gasp, hoping even a fraction of what you feel gets expressed through your tone.

“Sorry,” he smiles against your lips. “Looks like I got a little carried away…”

You try not to feel disappointed when his focus returns back to washing your body. His hands are careful and practiced, putting firm pressure in all of the areas you need washed most. You sigh at the intimacy of it all, but your mind is still elsewhere.

“Something on your mind?” he asks a few moments later, and you shrug.

“I’m just so happy to have a boyfriend that’ll do this for me,” you gesture vaguely at yourself, “even when I’m all disgusting like this.”

You mean it as a joke, sort of, but you can tell he notices something in your words. His hand stills from where it’s been stroking your hip.

“You think you’re disgusting?” he frowns. He searches your eyes for a moment, and then he’s dropping to his knees in between your open legs.

On impulse, you close them.

“Yeosang,” you warn, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t.”

“Why not? Because it’s dirty?” He presses a kiss to the side of your knee, sending chills down your spine. “Baby, I won’t push you, but if you’re worried about me… it’s not like I care about a little blood on my fingers.”

Your eyes widen. Your throat suddenly feels very, very dry.

“I want you to feel cherished,” he whispers into a stretch mark on your thigh, gentle fingers inching closer to your core. “But only if you’ll let me.”

Somewhere in you, the tide shifts. You feel so, so stupid for not remembering it sooner. The love he feels for you is real , even if it’s incomprehensible to you. The realization churns something deep in your gut, stoking the flames from a few moments ago.

“So,” he whispers, soft lips into your wet skin, “what will it be?”

You want him bad, period cramps be damned.

“Please,” you whine, and then he’s surging forward in another kiss.

The kiss is softer this time, almost chaste, making good on his promise to cherish you. His hands, though, are roaming your body in earnest, settling to draw comforting circles against your waist.

He pulls away from the kiss. “Tell me how you want me, baby.”

You shudder at the loss of contact. As much as you want all of him, having sex on your period is new territory for you. And he mentioned not minding blood on his fingers, so…

“Just your fingers,” you tell him. Then, sheepishly, you add: “I love your hands…”

Pleased with your directness, Yeosang kisses the tip of your nose, soft and innocent, before moving his lips down the expanse of your body. You grip lightly at the base of his head when his tongue twists around your nipple. He replaces it with his fingers as he dips deeper, pressing heated kisses down your tummy, to your pubic bone, until finally he’s at the apex of your thighs.

“Love this pussy so much,” he murmurs into the plush of your thigh. When his fingers find your clit, rubbing against it gently, your eyes roll back. “So beautiful, so perfect. Made for me.”

“Yeosang,” you gasp, but it quickly turns into a moan as his fingers find a quicker, pulsing rhythm.

Your body contorts to meet his fingers, but he moves a steadying hand to your hip. His strength, his unabashed adoration of your body, the practiced ministrations against your core — it’s all so incredibly hot that your brain simply can’t keep up.

“Mmm?” he intones, pressing a light kiss dangerously close to your slit that has you keening. “Did you need something, baby?”

“Close,” you admit, too engulfed in the pleasure to be embarrassed at how quickly you’ve begun to feel that tight, coiling feeling in your gut.

Your admission has Yeosang incredibly pleased, a grin stretching across his handsome face.

“Already, baby?” he asks, and you feel yourself burn up at how unbelievably attracted to him you feel right now. “You poor thing, all pent up like that. Must’ve needed me so badly.”

You let out a little whine at Yeosang’s words. You really did need him, didn’t you? All of today, it was him you craved. He knows you so well, so intimately…

“It was a good thing I could come home early, hmm? Take care of you just the way you like.”

You whine louder when he draws tight, concentrated circles against your clit, his other hand holding you still even as you try to meet his thrusts.

“Can you come for me, sweetheart? Want to hear your pretty little voice moaning my name.”

The tension snaps all at once, your orgasm crashing into you with reckless abandon as your body folds into itself. But Yeosang doesn’t stop, just pumps you gently through it as you dutifully let out a cry of his name.

Moments pass, and you’re still twitching from the aftershocks when Yeosang gets up to turn the water off. He’s covering you with a towel before you can process how cold you are. Once you’re dry and warm, he presses a single kiss on your forehead softly before helping you back onto your feet.

“That was really nice,” you tell him, a little shy despite yourself.

He smiles warmly. “I’m glad, baby. I hope you feel a little better.”

“A lot better,” you agree.

He helps you into a new set of clothes, and you smile as he squeezes lightly at your curves.

Just as you’re both about to exit, he hums exaggeratedly. “Though you did cum kind of fast, didn’t you?”

You swat at his shoulder, his laughter ringing in the open air.

That night finds you in Yeosang’s bed again, this time with fresh sheets. You sit snugly with your back against his chest, his arms enveloping you as you watch a movie on his laptop.

Every few minutes, he’ll whisper something in your ear. Sometimes it’s affectionate, about how strong he knows you are for him, how proud he is of you. Sometimes it’s a little snide comment about the characters in the film. The intimacy leaves you with a warm, light feeling in your stomach, as if you’re getting butterflies for him all over again.

At some point, though, the tide shifts back. Your insecurities won’t leave you forever, even with the most loving boyfriend in the world. Your period isn’t making it any easier, either; you’ve always been a hell of a lot more emotional on your heaviest days.

At the first sign of tears, Yeosang spins you around and embraces you against his soft chest.

“I stay the night,” you choke out between sobs, “and I ruin your bedsheets. I basically make a murder scene in your bathroom. Your roommate cooks for me and all I do is freak him out and beg him not to take me to the hospital. I made you leave your class early , Yeosang, all I do is—”

“Make my life better,” he finishes, halting your words. You meet his eyes, and they’re brimming with nothing but earnest adoration. “All you’ve done is make my life better, ever since we met.”

You sniffle. “Even when I’m like this?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to remind you, as often as you need.”

And with a look into his deep, earnest eyes, you decide you can believe him.

#kang yeosang x reader #ateez x reader #yeosang fic #yeosang smut #hehetmongi writes

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pianostarinwonderland · 20 days ago

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maybe skully isnt dead �� [half copium half srs]

listen. ik ive been on copium for a while. ik we all are, ive seen twitter, tumblr, and everyone’s tags on my posts when they reblog

BUT PLS HEAR ME OUT. IM SO SERIOUS RN WHEN I SAY: if u wanna be technical about it, if u wanna stretch it out somehow, you can argue that the game never outright states that skully is dead, only that the skully we met was from hundreds of years ago.

“but mamsir pianostarinwonderland, how in the fuck can that be???? we HEARD that invisible kiss” LET ME COOKKKKKK 🔥🔥🔥 I SWEAR EVERYONE, I AM COOKING U JUST HAVE TO HEAR ME OUUUUUUUUUUUUUT— knocked out

Ok serious time, let me mansplain to you all the possibility of Skully being alive

Establishing first of all, Twst has kept Skully's nature vague

Simply put: we don't know if Skully is human. In his live 2D, Skully's ears are completely covered. Even in his illustration, we can barely see his ears. It's an interesting design choice. However, in his chibi (which wasn't revealed until Episode 5), we can see his ears aren't shaped like a fae, but are round like that of a human.

However, it's pretty hard to think he's human either, when we consider his "moshi, ne moshi" greeting in Episode 1 and its connection to the supernatural. Voiced, to be noted. Exactly what kind of creature he could be is currently unknown, but because this part was voiced, it's something we need to pay attention to at the very least.

In regards to his mortality, the only clue we're really given is Skully himself saying that he may never meet us except through Halloween, which implies a lifespan similar to a human or something similar. But Skully doesn't know how far into the future that the cast is from. Heck, does he even know of his nature?

Now, addressing that invisible kiss...

I feel like this is the main thing that told all of us that Skully is long gone. Heck, if you catch me in my right mind, I might just tell you that yeah, that should be enough proof that Skully is dead! Little signs from the dead such can manifest in similar ways to what Jamil and Leona sensed: hearing a kiss and feeling a kiss on your hand.

(unfortunately i'm not in my right mind so you're getting my dumb reasons why i'm arguing for otherwise)

However, if Skully is gone, I find it interesting that this is the way they decide to show it. We already know from the very first Halloween event that ghosts can manifest all year round in Night Raven College due to the high concentration of magical power in the area. Outside of that, they cannot be seen. If they really wanted to confirm with the audience that Skully is a ghost, they could have had him appear as such at the end, when they all returned to Night Raven College.

But they chose a scenario where people can draw a lot of conclusions from it: Is their senses getting fucked over as they wake up? Are they still reeling from the magic of the book? (though rationally, we know that Leona is not one to be easily stunned, so the first question is at the very least easy to dismiss)

I've also seen some people theorize that he's using invisibility magic during the invisible kiss scene. And well, while I find that funny, it makes me wonder if he could be some other kind of spirit that's not dead. Like an undead of some sort, which the residents of Halloween Town are. Heck, Azul's card line about Skully talks about how he seems to fit right at home with the Halloween Town residents. Again, we don't know Skully's true nature, but the possibility of him being a species that can turn invisible is interesting.

Moving on, we have what Dire Crowley stated about Skully

At the end of the event, Crowley tells us that he found Skully’s portrait while rummaging through the storage and shows it to us and the 11 boys who went inside the book

What he tells us is that Skully J. Graves is a NRC graduate from hundreds of years ago, before Crowley was Headmage. Note that he only was appointed for the position 100 years ago; the Skully we met is at least from around 200 years ago. During his NRC years, Skully got to share Halloween to NRC. It was a hit, and when he graduated, he spread Halloween all over the world in his travels.

I'd like to take a little detour first to discuss something that's been weighing on my mind: Some people have thought that Crowley is lying to us when he speaks about Skully and his achievements, but... I don't see why he would lie. For one, there is a decent chance that Crowley might not have gotten to see Skully. Even if he did, it's even more unsure if he was involved in Skully's affairs.

However, there's one main reason why I do think that Skully got to live a fulfilling life instead of facing an overblot that killed him or some other tragedy. I'd like to dedicate a longer post to this matter, but to make it concise, I think through Skully, Twst is starting to establish something new regarding their history. I think that historical teachings, folktales and stories, and rumors that are well-known tend to be lies or twisted truths. Whereas those that are obscure and not known are actually what occurred. Skully is called the King of Halloween who's done so much to spread the holiday to the world, yet not even NRC students, who should be the first to know considering that Skully is an alumna, know of him. Although there may be other reasons why that's the case, I like to think that at the very least, Skully's obscurity indicates that he did live the life he wanted and succeeded in working for a future that generations after him can enjoy.

Anyway, that actually isn't the main point of this section of the post, but I kind of want to air that out first. The main point is that Crowley only really said that Skully is a former NRC student from hundreds of years ago who traveled around the world to spread Halloween. But he never told us where he was buried or whether he saw his ghost roaming NRC. He never said anything about Skully being dead.

He probably said the hundreds of years ago bit, carrying the assumption that of course, Skully may have passed away. But we have to remember that we have long-living species in Twisted Wonderland. Fae that were students 200 years ago are very likely to be alive now. Crowley himself is a long-living creature, having been Headmage for 100 years. I think with that in mind, it's important for him to emphasize that Skully's gone if he really is. But he never mentioned it. Therefore, there is a good chance that Skully might just be somewhere else. That or Crowley just doesn't give a fuck where his alumni go, and I might be thinking too deeply about the absence of certain words. Honestly, that's a pretty good chance too.

Lastly, we have the scene where Jack Skellington gets shot down but survives it

Here's where it gets a bit more into speculation, but you're going to have to hear me out.

In the movie, Jack Skellington gets shot down by the military for impersonating Santa Claus. When the Halloween Townspeople watched it, they all despaired, and the mayor started declaring to all that Jack has been blown to smithereens and proclaimed him dead.

But that's not what happened: we find Jack landing on an angel's statue, alive and definitely not blown to smithereens.

And considering that Skully is still very much twisted from Jack Skellington... do you think the writers are pulling a similar move? Making us think that he's dead, just as the townspeople thought he was dead, only for us to learn eventually that he's alive.

This of course depends on what happens eventually in the sequel. From the way things are proceeding, what happened in the Lost in the Book with TNBC is events prior to the movie, and we could very well have the sequel be set during the movie events. (If you ask me, I kind of doubt that actually. I feel like Skellington got inspired by Skully's love for Halloween, enough to stay true to his identity as the Pumpkin King, which would mean the movie wouldn't happen the way we know it. So if anything, I feel like TNBC 2 would focus less on the actual movie and more on the side games where Oogie takes over Halloween Town and even kidnaps Santa and other people, but I admit, that's a stretch, especially considering that we will get Santa giving Halloween Town a taste of Christmas)

Of course, this post is really just to let some of my copium out. Rn, it's still safe to assume that yea, Skully's dead. And though I am coping hard for Skully to be alive, with the way Twst treats the dead, it's not exactly a bad thing. Ghosts continue to stay in NRC like they're living people. They honor the dead, and let the dead live among them. And even if he is in the afterlife and not stuck in the mortal plane, I have faith that Skully did live a fulfilling life that may have been forgotten but clearly changed the world. :'D

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #twst theory #skully j. graves #skully j graves #twst skully #guh yall what is the more common tag being used j with a period or without???#cause im going to terrorize both tags until im in acceptance stage

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girlbossblackbeard · 1 year ago

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S2 TRAILER ANALYSIS WITH 1 BILLION SCREENSHOTS

obligatory warning that this post is gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO foolishly long and rambling with all my silly little theories and thoughts and if you ALSO have silly little theories and thoughts you should ABSOLUTELY share them here please!!!! we can clown so much harder when our cacophonous honking harmonizes!!!!!!!

NOW ONTO THE POST (putting it under a read more so tumblr doesn't literally explode):

-the revenge looks BUSTED AF: i don't know if this is from general disrepair when ed is in his kraken era or if she was in a battle but her sails are all dirty in the opening shot of the trailer, and later we see stede on her deck with tattered sails and ropes everywhere, AND i'm like 99% sure that the shot of buttons ziplining from one ship to another is him going from the Chinese warfleet ship to the revenge, which i'm guessing is essentially stuck bc the sails are so torn they would never be able to catch the wind strongly enough to move her. I also wonder if the shot of roach shooting a canon at something is him shooting a canon at her since we had all those allusions to her exploding from samba, vico, and david on twitter all those months ago

-stede's earring: he DOES NOT HAVE THE EARRING when we see him lying on the deck next to roach and sighing dramatically nor does he have it during his conversation with Olu about stede dumping him, but he DOES have the earring in later shots like the beach english fight and when he's talking about being a failure his whole life which means WE WILL GET TO SEE STEDE GET HIS EAR PIERCED!!!!!!!!!! we'll get to see him make the decision to look even hotter and who knows who does the piercing for him idk!!!!!! @sluterastede had a dastardly beautiful thought in her brain about ed giving stede the piercing and stede making groaning noises and izzy once again thinking they're flapping their jacks right there on the deck in front of god and everybody!!!!!

-stede is spilling his heart out ("i let him down. i should've just told him how i feel") to susan on her ship (you can tell it's her by the long hair)

-interesting that there's a drawing of a donkey next to ed's wanted poster considering s1 had the line "a rich donkey is still a donkey". also i can't really read what the surrounding posters say other than "WANTED 20 GUINEAS". is this in the republic of pirates?

-stede says "i will find him" meaning ed may be actively avoiding stede at the beginning of the season???? (or the basic laws of travel physics have finally caught up to them)

-"look, captain, you know blackbeard's gonna murder you" i just think it's interesting that Olu is referring to him as blackbeard again even though ed told everyone in his pink robe era to call him ed. like it makes sense that he'd say blackbeard considering ed is on a rampage but it just made my brain wheels start spinning

-the Kraken crew are eating cake :)

-ed is holding a torch while letting the storm rain down on him: i don't think the laugh we hear is his because i don't think his mouth is even open during that slow-mo shot

-STEDE with a TEAR in his EYE as he says "i think i hurt him pretty bad"

-ed sobbing on the floor while the little bride cake topper is next to his head

-ed choking on the weed smoke i'm ACTUALLY crying, but also: where the fuck is ed when he's sitting in the chair smoking??? i thought it was on deck at first bc above his head is really dark and it looks like the lanterns we see on the deck of the revenge but there's a chandelier too?? it might be whatever shop Anne Bonny and her friend "you two know each other?" run bc behind ed in that chair is just a bunch of random furniture and a chandelier like we see when ed and stede are at the market. in fact, i think ed is smoking with Anne Bonny because I think that's her hand in the corner of that shot:

-"no more booze, no more drugs, and no more _____" not sure what the end of that sentence could be but we know that the "stede" that was put in there is NOT what he actually says!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-"you two know each other?" now hold on a sec because it kinda sounds like stede met Anne Bonny and Co. separately from Ed/before that market scene (maybe in the teaser clip of Anne on Stede's lap??) WHAT IF WE GET THE AITA SCENARIO WHERE ED AND STEDE TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR VERSION OF EVENTS AND NO ONE REALIZES THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT EACH OTHER UNTIL THAT MOMENT BC THEY'RE BOTH SO BIASED ABOUT ONE ANOTHER

-the evil guy definitely got his nose sliced off by Jackie. good for her :D I also don't think the evil guy is Hornigold, i'm still holding onto my theory that the man in the white rags we saw in the teaser and this trailer is hornigold's "ghost" that ed needs to contend with to find his inner peace or whatever a la stede with nigel's "ghost". but i DO think the evil guy is the rich prince dude from that leaked audition tape from rhys's friend. if memory serves, the guy wants to buy his way into the pirate lifestyle but he's pompous and entitled which makes him reckless. based off the production stills we also got today, he still had a nose when he went into Spanish Jackie's...but i don't think he leaves with one. so because he gets butthurt over invading a space that was NOT meant for him and faces the consequences of purposely disobeying their customs, he defects to the english navy and goes on a rampage against all piracy, very MRA energy :/ also, later izzy says to him "you don't know the first thing about piracy" which would further support that this guy just tried to buy his way in

-izzy gets an honest-to-god pegleg but he doesn't start the season off with it because we see him in several shots with both legs, like the wedding raid and swordfighting stede on the beach. unsure if he loses it due to infection from the toe situation or if he gets shot in the knee like i've seen some posts talk about, but @sluterastede mentioned that one of the leaked audition tapes for archie included dialogue about an amputation so maybe that character has to uh. Get Her Roach On

-as i mentioned before with the teaser analysis, izzy is clearly training stede for something and now im guessing it's the english but like we kinda knew that !

-olu is in a bar fight??

-THE "ED GETS CAUGHT IN A BUCKET ON A ROPE DURING THE STORM AND GOES OVERBOARD" THEORY IS OUT. THE "ED TIES HIMSELF TO A MF BIG ASS ROCK AND JUMPS OFF A GOD DAMN CLIFF TO GO ON SOME SOUL-SEARCHING JOURNEY UNDER THE SEA" THEORY IS IN. and what the FUCK is the rag man doing with ed up on that cliff hello?????? if my theory is correct and that is in fact hornigold's ghost or whatever, what advice or harmful shit is he saying that makes ed do that?????????????????????? but do note the large rock with the rope around it in the first pic

-the revenge crew is blowing up SOMETHING on the side of a building. maybe to cause a distraction or gain access inside the building? is it the side of Spanish Jackie's?? also hiiiiiiii lucius <3

-"our entire escape relies on this" i'm just assuming they're trying to escape from the english bc that seems to be the Big Bad of the season??

-not plot related but during the rope swinging training session izzy slaps stede on the ass and makes this face (sir??????):

>he also has his pegleg here so their mentorship may ramp up after izzy is out of commission for hand-to-hand combat. maybe izzy was supposed to have a larger fighting role alongside ed in defeating the english but once he became incapacitated he realized he would need to train someone else up for the job so ed would be sufficiently protected. but it also had to be someone izzy knew would be willing to die for ed to save his life if it came to that, just like izzy would

-"i've been a failure my whole life. it's not so bad once you get used to it" is stede talking to ed here? is that ed's hair in the corner of the frame??

>side note: as mentioned above, stede also has his earring by this point!!

-"you're going through that 'if i was a regular dude' phase" first of all, SPANISH JACKIE AND EDWARD TEACH BEST FRIENDS TRUTHERS RISE UP. second, why would ed be considered a regular dude now?? how did he lose his reputation? did he willingly give it up or was it taken from him? is this permanent or just temporary? or did he fake his own death with the cliff and the rock thing so he could retire and live a more normal life?? the swede doesn't seem scared of him at all in the final clip from the trailer, straight up asking him if he's poor and going "back to basics". of course, that could just be a power trip from being one of Jackie's newest husbands (or at least her waitstaff)

-possibly totally minor/just a continuity error thing, but: ed has a red ring. we saw it in s1 as he picks up the rather fine cashmere and we see it as ed dramatically drapes himself across the ship's helm with his head on his hand. we do not see it in the scene where he's smoking (see above) or the scene where he's talking to the rabbit. now, if you'll allow me a little bit of clownery for a moment, red has been explicitly coded in this show to be a symbol of love/the heart, especially as it pertains to edward like his red silk scarf as a metaphor for his heart in s1. what if. what if he. gave the red ring (his heart) to. SomeOne. because.....................because his heart belongs to st--[GUNSHOTS]

-olu, jim, and archie with garlic around their necks and making a cross with their fingers - clearly they think someone is a vampire on the ship. @sluterastede proposed it could be izzy, especially if he's on the brink of death due to an infection and frenchie managed to spread his superstitions to other people on the ship!

-THIS FUCKIN GUY. WHO ARE YOU??? it seems like he kidnaps stede and his crew and throws a party on the ship and drugs the drinks which is why everyone is kinda tripping/laughing in some parts. but then everyone gets tied down (stede to the mast, wee john's hands get squished, olu and roach's heads get squished, and jim and archie's feet get secured to the ship's railing i think??). also that wide shot is definitely the rando dude hitting some shrill high note at the same moment the revenge crew cry out in pain from all the squishing (except maybe jim and archie - they might just be laughing at the others bc they're badasses and this pain is nothing). also don't know what the guy is looking at when we first see him but im thinking maybe it's a wanted poster of stede and he's looking at the description of the gentleman pirate to confirm it's the dude right in front of him/that he's captured?? also i think roach is wearing flowers from the drug party in his apron when he fires that canon, so maybe he's tripping too and shoots a canon?? i need a prayer circle for the revenge's safety at this time

-stede has a bullet hole???????????????? did ed fucking shoot him in the heart?????????????????????????? he also notably does NOT have the earring in this scene but he does have the sexy stiddies (blue) shirt like we see in the other shot where he DOES have the earring. maybe this weirdo dude pierces stede's ear bc he thinks stede needs to look more piratey?? or stede gets absolutely sloshed (or drugged) and gets his ear pierced idk !!! maybe jim does it bc they're effortlessly cool and has a bunch of ear piercings!!!

-idk if this is a coincidence or not but i'm pretty sure stede in his training scenes with izzy is wearing the clothes he wore in that final shot of s1 as he rows to find the crew on the island (white linen shirt, dark pants, brown belt and boots). so either costume changes are happening later in the season, they're reusing outfits like normal people do, or the training montage happens extremely early on in the season

-so originally with the teaser trailer i thought ed falling in the water was followed by the shot of ed coming out of the water on the beach. i don't know if i fully believe that anymore because ed is NOT wearing his jacket on the cliff (see above), but he IS wearing it as he comes up out of the water, so either it's two different events and ed just spends a lot of time in the water this season or he puts his jacket on before jumping off the cliff

-ed his holding his right side as he slashes that dude on the beach so he definitely got hurt in battle but i hope it's not him getting stabbed bc ur supposed to cleverly take the sword on the left where all the unimportant bits are :(((

-I VERY STRONGLY BELIEVE that the person in the scene where stede turns around and shoots his gun into the air and everyone else on deck suddenly draws their weapons against that person is our boy lucius!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's wearing a beret?????????? @sluterastede proposed that lucius got picked up by the english navy after getting thrown overboard and that's why we see him in the english navy garb (which we later see frenchie in too?? i believe an infiltration fuckery is afoot). also the fact that the shot immediately after this one is of Black Pete doing a happy little fist pump which i'm choosing to interpret as a cute little easter egg symbolizing Pete gets reunited with his love. i also also also believe lucius is in the shot of buttons about to zipline from one ship to the other. i missed him :')

-okay i know i said in an earlier post that stede running across the beach was romantic but i changed my mind and i think izzy is just making stede do cardio as part of his training lol. his outfit matches the one he's wearing when swordfighting izzy in that earlier wideshot and i think he even still has the scarf belt and the full beard in both scenes (explained at the end of this post via production stills) so maybe they have an honest to god training montage that takes course over several days and we get an incredible 80s powerballad to play on top of it while stede thinks of ed to motivate him or whatever. david jenkins hire me to help write season 3 i have ideas

-i think jim is behind stede as he breaks into the weirdly religious room we saw in the teaser when stede punches that guy??

-ed is pretty bloodied in the shot of stede leaning over him and saying VERY worriedly "ed????" so my theory is that ed got hurt in battle or he was taken captive by the Chinese warfleet and stede was worried he was grievously injured. however, once ed comes to and realizes who's kneeling over him, he gets pissed and headbutts stede because he's still mad at him for breaking his heart, and maybe his hands are restrained/his body is too weak so he can't push stede away. or maybe they had to begrudgingly work together on some mission and stede fucked it up and ed got hurt so he's mad about that idk!! ALSO HE'S WEARING THE CRAVAT HELLO

-ed in buttons's shirt looking so PEACEFUL what the HELL. obviously it's from the same general time as him being in Spanish Jackie's when she's talking to him about being a regular dude and later when the swede asks him if he's poor addkjfajdfhlkefh i fucking love this show and its writing so much. but ed says "no, i'm just trying something different man >:/" so i wonder if this is ed at the end of s2 or if this is more towards the middle as he's still in the thick of his healing journey. maybe buttons teaches ed about meditation and/or the tai chi he practiced with the Chinese warfleet crew??

-the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!

-i also think the BTS production still of stede with the beard is early on in ep 1 because he has a full beard (that im hoping someone on the revenge bullies him into shaving off to the scruff we see in the rest of the promo materials) and ALSO because he's wearing a long red scarf around his waist, which we never see again in any of the other promo material - except, however, around his neck as a makeshift cravat:

>it's the same exact material and everything! my guess is he gets his ass handed to him in a fight (maybe against izzy??) and his scarf belt gets destroyed, so he repurposes the shredded fabric into his necktie

-there's literal gold bars in the background of this production still lmao the kraken crew got BUSY during ed's goth era

>speaking of, the fucking hair dye dripping down izzy's forehead in this production still:

*sad clown noises*

in conclusion:

WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

anyway that's my second dissertation on less than 2 minutes of content that turned out to be quite literally 6 pages long :)

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 trailer #izzy hands #the swede #spanish jackie #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #wee john feeney #ofmd spoilers #i don't know what i need to be evaluated for but it's SOMETHING and it's PREVALENT #i spent a collective 5 hours making this post what the whole actual fuck

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loveandleases · 4 months ago

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!!Tumblr-versary!!

So, apparently my 1 year tumblr-versary is today!? I feel like it went by oh so fast. (Uni is partly to blame for that.) I'm officially sick, so I'm going to spend a disgusting amount of time today playing Fields of Mistria (and hydrating~). I wanted to do a nice little post but couldn't really settle on anything in particular, so instead I thought I would give a little glimpse of MC & Aunt Emma time. (this is now a deleted scene, below the cut~)

“We have that in common.” she swats your hand away when you reach for another potato.

You wince at the stinging sensation, though in all honestly you were being dramatic, she barely touched you. Rubbing the back of your hand, you give her a questioning glance, “What?”

Emma smirks and if you had to be honest, it's the same as your mother's, though you don't dare tell her that. “We both have bitches for sisters.”

A laugh bursts from you abruptly as your aunt’s words catch you off guard. It fills the room, echoing with a mixture of amusement and surprise. The other patrons turn to stare at you, your aunt shushing you.

Leaning back in your chair you take her in, her eyes crinkled, as small crowfeet lined her deep brown eyes. Laugh lines add a softness to her round face, her almond-shaped eyes like your mother’s, and her hair the color of your grandfather’s, a ruddy brown.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you said that,” you say, taking a breadstick and setting it on your aunt’s plate.

She scoffs, “No please do! Save me the trouble of doing it.”

Shaking your head at her, you pick up your phone noticing the time, 11:47 p.m. With a heavy sigh, you feel her gaze on you. “What?”

Emma grabs the breadstick and sticks it into her handbag. So that's where Cam picked that habit up.

She clasped her hands together and leaned towards you. “Are you happy?”

Her question causes you to pause, why would she ask that?

You feel yourself nodding at her, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason, I just want to make sure. I guess we should be headed home then before they usher us out.”

Looking around the restaurant, you see only a handful of patrons left. Many are already calling for their checks to be paid.

“I guess so. Want me to walk you to the L?” You knew your aunt hated taking the train this late at night, but it would be safer for her to take the train home than walking back.

Emma shakes her head, “No need, but you can pay for the meal. And walk me out.”

That was something you always enjoyed about your aunt. She didn’t care to say what she was thinking, even if it was as simple as saying she didn’t want to pay for dinner.

You hail the waiter, pay for your meal, get a doggy bag of leftovers to take home, and then walk arm-in-arm with your aunt outside. As you wait for the walk indicator to tell you that you can safely cross the road, she turns to you, grinning ear to ear. “You know, I slept with a Clarke once.”

Before you can stop yourself, because surely you shouldn’t be that curious about your aunt’s love life, you feel the words coming out of your mouth, “As in their first name was Clarke? Or do you mean to tell me you slept with one of my soon-to-be in-laws?”

She pulls you tighter to her side, “Ask me again when I’m drunk.”

#loveandleases #love and leases #upcoming if #twine wip #twine if #twine interactive fiction #if wip #1 year tumblrversary #aunt emma #mc

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doyoulikethisanimesong-poll · 4 months ago

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I have finally caught up with my Ask inbox!

After having my inbox closed for probably a month or so (I really should note this shit down), I have finally reached the latest ask and queued it up.

Shits Changing

After having a couple weeks of going through your submissions, I had some ideas on how to improve this system because it wasn't working for me and wasn't working for many of you either (as evidenced by the confusion from some people when the 17th Zetsubou song came on). I tried to mitigate this by putting a day or two between songs from the same artist or anime but it wasn't perfect and didn't fix the issues I was having on my end (namely that I just don't want to listen to an animes whole ost for an hour)

From now onwards I will be doing submissions through google forms (or some kind of alternative if something catches my attention. If you have any reccs, lemme know). I will have the submission form open until I get roughly 50 songs (subject to change if I think its too many or too little) and there will only be one song per submission. You will have to be logged into google to make your submission although I will get no data about who sent what, its just a way to stop people from making 17 submissions under the same email. If you want to game the system, I'm gonna make you put atleast a little bit of effort into it.

However do not be discouraged, it doesn't mean you get one submission ever, it just means you only get one submission per submission period. At a rough estimate of how many songs I queue up a week, you will probably get about one submission a week/fortnight.

Here is the current submission form:

The latest submission form will always be amongst the blogs links thing (if you can't tell at this point, I am not particularly good at tumblr and honestly have no idea what half the stuff is called.)

I'll just post a picture and hopefully it will make more sense. I will also be making a post everytime a new submission form is made as well.

Right there in the middle called Submission Form #1, thats what I'm talking about and hopefully is accessible to all of you (I really do not understand how this site works).

But what about my submission, I haven't heard it yet?

If you haven't heard your submission by Poll #493, that means I haven't queued it up. This can be for multiple reasons. The biggest one is that you didn't give me enough information and I could not be fucked scouring the internet trying to decipher your submission so I will be making certain info required for future submissions. Don't be discouraged if you didn't hear your song at that point, it doesn't mean that I hate it and never want to listen to it again, just resubmit it in the new submisssion form with the required information and I will happily throw it in the queue.

Back to the Asks

The ask feature will now go back to being used as intended, namely to ask me personal questions and blog related questions. Any submissions sent through it will just be ignored and deleted but if you want to ask me about my favourite food, favourite anime or my opinion on anything, I will happily answer.

This is my last paragraph, please put up with my last ramblings

From Poll #500 to #510, I will be testing a new poll layout. This is due to people wanting certain options on the poll that I did not originally add due to the limited amount of votes. Now that a poll gains roughly 300 votes at mininum though, I feel its a good time to test a couple extra polling options.

#not a poll plz be cool

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chocsra · 2 years ago

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15! Chuuya flirting headcanons:

A/N: Hello! This is my first post on tumblr so I'm just going to put out I'm not so used to the format on tumblr at all, never posted my writing pieces. I also was originally going to include 22! Chuuya but I got lazy. So please enjoy and tell me if you'd like more of my works!

Characters: Gn! reader x 15! Chuuya

Reader works in the Port Mafia for this headcanon.

15 Chuuya:

I see 15! Chuuya as a serious person who was forced to mature at a young age. So I think he'd be pretty hesitant to flirt with you, because no.1: he has a lot of pride, he's scared of Dazai's teasing, and he's already been betrayed by The Sheep not too long ago, he doesn't want to let his guard down around anyone else.

I'd think he'd see you around the mafia here and there, but he wouldn't think much of it, don't really consider him to be a 'love at first sight' kind of person.

Instead, he'd probably get to know you whether it'll be through a mission or mafia gatherings. Either way he'd catch himself caring and thinking about you more than he should be.

So you two would have to become pretty close friends in order for him to comfortably flirt with you, not saying it won't be awkward though.

I think when he was fifteen he liked the idea of romantic dates such as fancy dinners, but teenagers don't really have the money or motivation to do something as that.

I think his way of flirting is to check up on you a lot, and being a gentleman.

Whenever you guys are out he always opens doors, offers to eat your unfinished food, asks if you're okay, etc.. if you aren't together then he's calling you to see if you've ate and/or you're okay.

You catch him staring all the time. He has that kind of awe and adoration in his eyes whenever he looks at you.

And I'm trying not to go out of character here because Chuuya is known for his brutality, especially when he was fifteen. I think he'd act arrogant and hot-headed at first, like he'd be a dick but then he realises it and becomes a little sweeter, even nicer when you guys are friends.

You are on his mind like 24/7, he will listen to music and be like: "Damn, would they like this? Should I get them an album?"

Also unconsciously follows you around when you're near. Yes, Dazai notices.

Overall, he's not a words kind of guy and would rather show his affection through actions and gestures. I don't think he'd do it on purpose though.

So like, acts of service kind of guy.

"What the hell are you doing out here without an umbrella?"

You turn your head to meet your colleague, Chuuya, who is running up to you with an umbrella in hand, which is usually concealed by the pockets of his leather jacket. It was raining pretty heavily, and you had just finished some business with the mafia; now peacefully walking home in the evening as droplets of rain fell in the tinge of your hair. The cold sensation was quickly covered by his blue umbrella, which, now that you realised it, matched the colour of his eyes. He shot you his juvenile grin, raising an eyebrow at his friend's actions.

"I forgot to bring one."

"Well, you're gonna get sick."

"No shit."

Chuuya scoffs, pulling a snicker from your throat. The comforting yet tension-filled walk pushed an awkward silence between the two of you. "Where do you plan on going?" He asks with curiosity filling his azure eyes. "Groceries. I haven't had any food left for like, 2 days." You chuckle stiffly, but a slight frown appears on Chuuya's face. "You should take more care of yourself." He suggests feigning a sigh, you raise an eyebrow at his advice. "Chill, I'm getting food now." You smile, lightly nudging his shoulder. Chuuya groans at your dismissal half-jokingly, taking a moment to stare at the awakening moon.

"I care about you, ya know? Sucks that you're a suicidal maniac like that bastard." He chuckles, then looks at you with confusion when you don't laugh; instead staring at him with a sweet look of adoration. You don't even have to say anything; you just giggle for him to realise what he's just said.

"Here, I'll go with ya—I could run some errands myself."

"Shut up." He laughs with some conviction, playfully jabbing your arm. Chuuya stares at you in awe under the moonlight, taking in your laughter. He softly smiles to himself, not wanting this moment to end.

#15 chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #gn! reader #idiots in love #mutual pining #flirting #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya

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missrosegold · 1 year ago

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I met the devil by the window, traded my life

Synopsis: When horrendous acts of violence occur, they sometimes leave behind impressions that continue to linger long after the initial event. Rarely are they ever pleasant.

Sometimes, what’s left behind isn’t necessarily a something, rather, a someone.

You’re about to find that out the hard way.

Word count: 16k

Paring: Dabi x Reader (Fem Reader)

Warnings: Character Death, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, General Demon Mindfuckery, just know that Dabi is not a good person in this one, he's ment to be unhinged, so Minors or Ageless blogs DNI. This is rated 18+.

Written for @candycandy00 League of Villain's Horror Anthology Collab! Thank you so much for having me love! I hope you enjoy my contribution! I had a lot of fun with this one!

Thank you to the lovely @kimkaelyn for the beautiful banner - and thank you for all the encouragement you've given me recently, it means the world to me. 💙

(Shamelessly inspired by Poltergeist and Silent Hill)

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

You should’ve known something wasn’t right when you stumbled across the Air B&B booking.

It was too good to be true. You weren’t dumb. Realistically, you knew that anything that was too good to be true, normally was, and you should avoid it like the plague, but for once, you decided to indulge your curiosities a little.

You had been looking for a place to stay while travelling abroad in Japan with a few of your friends, when you had found the listing completely out of the blue. You remember reading the details the website had provided, your eyes bugging out of your head as you swiped to look at the pictures of the listing that were posted.

From an outsider’s perspective, it was perfect. It was a massive house, practically a mansion, located right in the heart of Shizuoka Prefecture. The mansion backed out onto a large nature preserve, and despite being located very close to the city’s core, it was private – a massive retaining wall surrounded the entire property, except for the far side of the yard, which backed out onto the forest that surrounded the property from the back.

The mansion itself was so large, it could easily house you and your three other friends for the two weeks you planned on being in the country for. Best of all: it was cheap. Really cheap. It was well under price compared to what all the other lodgings you’d looked at previously wanted for a two week stay.

You’d booked it for you and your friends without so much as a second though. How could you possibly pass on such a great deal? The simple answer was, you couldn’t.

You’d excitedly told your friends about what you found, and once they’d seen the listing for themselves, they had agreed that even if the house wasn’t exactly like what was shown, the price was too good to pass up on, and that any small issues the listing may or may not have could easily be overlooked.

It was too good to be true, and now you understood exactly why that was.

Currently, you’re running for your life though the same forest you had seen in the listing’s pictures, while your pursuer hunted you relentlessly through the dense brush.

You could feel the heat of the fire on your back behind you, the rancid smell of smoke burning your lungs as you struggled to keep your breathing even, but you didn’t dare stop running, nor did you spare a glance behind you, knowing full well what you’d see.

If you stopped, he’d catch you. If he caught you… God only knew what would happen to you then.

You dove behind a thick tree, clasping your hand over your mouth as you fought to calm your frantically beating heart, and level out your breathing. For a moment, you didn’t hear anything aside from the crackling of the fire behind you and the pounding of your own heart. You almost risked sticking your head out from behind your hiding spot to see if you had managed to lose your pursuer, until a voice cut though the smoke and haze surrounding you:

“Oh little mouse… where are you? Why don’t you come out and play? I don’t bite… much.”

You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at the sound of the otherworldly rasp that cuts through the smoky air like a knife. He sounds close. Too close for comfort, but you don’t dare to try and run from your spot, too afraid of giving up your position to the man—no, the demon that was hunting you through the burning woods.

“C’mon darlin, I was just teasin’ you those other times. I wouldn’t actually hurt you. Not like your dumbass friends back there.”

There’s a horrible raspy snicker after that last comment, and you don’t bother to try and stop the tears you feel roll down your cheeks at the thought of your poor friends, and the state you left them in back at the mansion as you all but ran for your life:

Dead. Burnt down to little more than ash.

Such violent ends for girls who did nothing to deserve them.

You want to cry openly at the cruelty of his comment, but you know he’s baiting you. He wants you to show him where you are. You don’t believe him for a second when he says he won’t hurt you, when you’ve seen first-hand what he’s capable of.

A few seconds of silence pass aside from the ominous popping and crackling of the forest fire that’s steadily drawing closer to your location, before he seemingly loses patience with your lack of cooperation. In the most demonic sounding voice you’ve ever heard, he bellows:

“GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as the creature seethes with barely suppressed rage. You don’t know what to do. If you stay where you are, you’re dead. If you go to him, you’re definitely dead. You’re fucked regardless of what you pick.

When he speaks again, he sounds smug, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he calls out to you:

“I’m going to count to ten Doll. If you’re not out here by the time I’m done, I’ll burn this whole fucking forest down, and turn everything around it to ash.”

You let a muffled sob escape, not bothering to try and hide it now. Your sobs only grow harder as you hear him start to count in his chilling rasp, “One… Two… Three…”

You close your eyes, desperately trying to think of a way out; but there is no escape, you already know there isn’t. The demon that’s been hunting you through the forest for the last hour made sure of that when he set the mansion on fire, and subsequently, the surrounding forest.

Your mind goes blank as you take in your current reality, and despite everything, you find yourself thinking back to when this nightmare first started for you and your friends, nearly a week earlier when you arrived at the mansion…

-----

The mansion itself was an intimidating place.

It doesn’t look as foreboding from the other side of the retaining wall that surrounds the property – the massive gardens that sit just behind the wall are well maintained, and the house itself is clearly well taken care of, even though the website mentioned that no one has lived in the house for a little over a decade for some unknown reason.

You first get the impression that something is off with the house the moment you step through the front door. You set your bags down at the entrance, and take in the sweeping archways and long hallways that lead to other rooms of the house you’ve yet to explore with your friends, before you realize how still the interior of the house is.

Aside from the noise you and your friends are making as you move your bags inside, there’s no other sound in the house. As soon as the door to the outside closes, the inside of the house is completely silent.

You can’t put your finger on it, but something about the odd silence has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You seem to be the only one affected by the interior of the house, as your friends are mindlessly chatting amongst themselves as they grab their bags and move further inward, presumably to do some exploring.

You best friend nudges your shoulder and gives you a small smile, snapping you out of your reprieve. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet since we got here.”

“I’m fine.” You tell her gently, brushing off your earlier concerns. “I’m just tired.”

She nods. “Same here. I think we’ll all feel better once we eat something and get some sleep. The flight over here was so long.”

Just then, one of your other friends loops back to where you and your best friend are standing, waving you both over.

“Hey! We’re just picking out rooms! Do you two wanna come take a look and see if there’s any you fancy? The second floor of the house is all bedrooms from what we can see.”

You both follow her up to the second floor of the house. Sure enough, the long hallway is lined with sliding panels that open into bedrooms. Some are open and some are still closed. Your other friend pops out from a room near the middle of the hallway and waves at you.

“Come take a look! I think all these rooms are bedrooms. Go see if there’s one you want to claim as our own, I already know which one I want.” She grins as she taps the sliding door of the room she’s in.

You laugh at her antics and move further down the hallway. “Have you explored all of them yet?”

“No, just the ones closest to the stairs and the ones near the middle. Haven’t gotten the chance to look at the ones at the end of the hallway.” She tells you honestly, jerking her thumb to the end of the hallway, where you can see two doors remain closed.

Your best friend follows you down the hallway, and opens up the panel on the right. “Oh wow. This must be the master bedroom.” She mutters as she peaks in the dim room. “Maybe we’ll just keep this one shut. Seems rude to sleep in the master bedroom. I’ll take one of the other rooms.”

You watch as she closes the panel again and moves back down the hallway to where your other friends are chatting, leaving you to the last door on the left. Just as you extend your hand to open the door, a sudden flash of heat runs up your extended hand and through your body, disappearing as quickly as it came, but it still causes you to pull your hand back with a gasp.

You inspect your hand, looking for signs of a burn, only to find nothing wrong with the skin of your palm. You stare blankly at the wood and paper paneling that makes up the sliding door, not sure what to make of what just happened, before you slowly pull the door open. This time, nothing prevents you from doing so.

You step into the dark room slowly, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim before looking around. It looks as though no one has stepped inside the room for years, as you notice the thick layer of dust settled upon every available surface. The room looks like it once belonged to a young boy, possibly a pre-teen, as you note the posters of various superhero’s scattered about the otherwise bare walls.

A few pieces of furniture are pushed up against the walls, and for some reason your heart aches when you look at the small, twin-sized bed. Everything in the room feels dated, like nothing progressed past a certain point in time, and you can’t figure out why you feel like that, until you see it:

There, in the darkest corner of the room, is an ornate cabinet-like structure that looks similar to a closet, but something feels very off about the wooden structure. Just as you’re about to move towards it, your friends appear at the door, their happy chatter quieting down as they observe you.

“There you are! We were wondering when you dispersed to!” your one friend grins as she pushes her way into the room, looking around. “Huh, I guess the people who own this house have a bunch of kids. The other rooms aside from the master bedroom are all kid themed.”

You don’t respond, still trying to figure out what about the cabinet is bothering you so much, before your second friend approaches you, nodding to the dark wooden structure. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” You admit. “I don’t think it’s a closet though.”

“The website didn’t mention it?”

“No.” You mutter, brows furrowing together as you think back to the pictures you’d seen of the listing. “Actually, I don’t think they included any pictures of this room. I don’t remember seeing any.”

Your best friend makes her way to where you’re standing and squints at the cabinet for a second before her face sours.

“Not to be a downer, but I think this is a butsudan.”

You turn to her, eyebrow quirked in silent question, and she elaborates. “It’s like a home shrine for family members who’ve died. They keep ashes or pictures of the person in there some times.”

“No way, there’s like… somebody’s ashes in there?” your first friend speaks, shuddering, and your best friend shrugs.

“Sometimes, not always though.” She glances around the room. “Really hoping I’m wrong about that, since this is a kid’s room…” she trails off uncomfortably, but the implication of her words is clear:

A child who lived here at some point, died.

For some unexplainable reason, you suddenly feel drawn to the wooden structure and you slowly cross the room until you’re standing directly in front of the doors. Just as you’re about to reach out to open them, your second friend’s voice stops you.

“What are you doing?” she asks, a nervous laugh in her voice. “I don’t think you should touch that.”

“I’m just going to take a peek.” You reassure her, placing your hands on the doors. “If someone has to sleep in this room, I wanna make sure there isn’t a child’s ashes in here.” You cast a pointed look at them. “I’m assuming it’s going to be me. You’ve all taken the other rooms aside from the master, and I don’t think anyone wants to sleep in there out of respect.”

When your friends don’t protest, you sigh and pull the doors open without a second thought, expecting the worst. Thankfully, no urn stares back at you, but something else does:

A picture of a boy, no older then thirteen or fourteen peers back at you through the gloom of the dark cabinet.

You suck in a breath as you take in the boy’s delicate features. He’s young, baby-faced, even though his shockingly white hair would suggest he’s much older than he appears. The other thing you immediately notice about the boy, are his eyes. His eyes are a startling shade of blue, a stark contrast from the surrounding darkness in the room, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out to gently take the picture off its place on the mantal to have a closer look.

The instant the photo leaves the mantal, the same rush of heat flashes through you, only this time it’s worse. This time you feel like you’re being burned alive as liquid fire curses through your veins. The pain is so bad, it locks you in place, unable to scream as you feel like you being incinerated from the inside out. All the while, you’re unable to release your grip on the picture frame in your hands.

Suddenly, two piercing blue eyes surrounded by gnarled purple skin cut across your vision. They glare at you ominously before blinking out of existence, and as quick as the burning sensation came on, it vanishes.

You let out a gasp, and the picture frame slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, the glass pane protecting the photo, shattering and splintering into pieces as the boy’s deep blue eyes stare back up at you amidst the mess of glass and wood.

“Shit.” You breathe as you stoop down to pick the old photo out from underneath the glass.

“What was that about?” your best friend asks you worriedly, glancing between you and the shattered frame. “We tried calling your name, but you didn’t respond to us. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… Did you not see that?” you croak, holding onto the photo in your hands gently. “The—the eyes? You didn’t see the eyes?”

“Eyes? What are you talking about?” your other friend pipes up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting super spacy.”

“Yeah, I’m… fine… just… fine.” You mutter as you glace down at the photo. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“We’ll go into town tomorrow and see if we can find a new frame for it.” Your best friend interjects quickly, seeing the distressed look on your face. “Let’s see if we can get this cleaned up. If you’re sure about sleeping in this room, I don’t want you getting glass in your feet. You get yourself situated; we’ll go find a broom.”

She leads your two other friends out of the room and you find yourself alone. You slowly place the photo back down at the alter and rub your temples tiredly.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter to the picture of the boy, even though you know he can’t respond. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll get you another frame. I promise.”

Just as you’re about to close the doors to the shrine again, something catches your eye. Just under the spot where the picture frame sat, there’s an engraving on the shelf. Squinting down at the neat characters, you’re just able to make out a name carved into the dark wood.

Todoroki Touya

The next morning you wake up feeling like you didn’t sleep at all.

You roll over with a groan and take in your surroundings blearily. You had ended up taking the room with the home shrine in it for yourself, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to use the small bed the room provided. Instead, you’d taken the pillows and top blanket off, and arraraged them into a small cot at the foot of the bed. It wasn’t the worst makeshift bed you’d ever used, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself comfortable all night – torn between feeling racked with guild over dropping the picture, and feeling like you were being watched.

The second feeling you couldn’t explain. You had woken up multiple times during the night, feeling like there were eyes on you, only for nothing to be there when you looked around your immediate surroundings. Each time you’d woken up, it had taken you ages to fall back asleep, leaving you drained by the time the first morning sunbeams filtered into the room from the covered window.

You opt to stay in bed for a little while longer, only heading downstairs when you hear the distant sounds of your friend’s voices floating up from the hall. You trudge downstairs, following the sounds emanating from what you assume is the kitchen, only to find your friends in the middle of making breakfast.

Your best friend looks up as you enter the kitchen, a small smile plastered on her face.

“Good morning.” She greats you kindly, passing you a plate piled high with eggs and breakfast meats. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really.” You admit as you accept the plate. “I kept waking up during the night. Couldn’t get comfortable.”

“I still can’t believe you slept in that room.” Your other friend interest, biting into her toast. “You couldn’t pay me to sleep in there with that… thing.”

She doesn’t need to say it for you to know what she’s talking about. You shrug your shoulders and dig into your eggs.

“Didn’t feel right sleeping in the master bedroom. Honestly the room is nice, that’s not the issue. It’s just really… quiet in there.”

“Maybe it’s haunted.” Your other friend chimes in with a giggle, and you roll your eyes.

“With my luck it will be. Pretty sure I’m going to have a vengeful spirit on my ass after I dropped that picture.” You joke as you stare down at your food. “I’m going to go into town after this and see if I can find a replacement frame. I still can’t believe I did that.”

“I’m surprised they never had any pictures of that room on the booking site.” You best friend mutters as she slots herself next to you at the countertop. “That seems a little weird.”

“Well, the website said that no one’s lived in this house for a while. Maybe something happened to one of the kids.” You supply, and your friends grimace at your suggestion.

“You think maybe they’d mention that on the listing. You know; this house is haunted by a ghost child, stay at your own risk.” Your friend across from you quips, causing you to snicker.

“Some people pay big money for that. If anything, they could use it as a selling point. But I doubt it. I don’t believe in ghosts.” You finish up your breakfast and put your plate in the sink. “I’m going to get changed and head into town. I’ll be back in an hour or so, and then we can do some exploring.”

Your friends let out a muffled chorus of agreed noises, before going back to their breakfast, leaving you to head back upstairs to change. You shut the door to your room behind you and flick on the light so you can pull out some clothes out of your bag.

Just as you’re about to pull your sleep shirt over your head; a wave of heat flashes through your body like lightening, and suddenly, you feel the same soul-piercing eyes on you again.

You gasp, and slam your shirt back down, covering your exposed breasts again with a shudder. You glance around the room wildly; half expecting to see someone lurking in one of the corners, but just like the other times before; no one’s there. You’re alone, even though the prickling of your skin is telling you otherwise.

You don’t dare move from your spot, as you still feel like you’re being watched by something, but after a few moments the feeling dissipates, and you feel your body relax as the tension you didn’t realize you were holding onto, bleeds out.

You change quickly and do your makeup, before grabbing your purse and bidding your friends a quick “bye!”, before heading out the front door, and out into the warm sunshine.

Outside of the house, everything feels better. The atmosphere is more inviting compared to the almost oppressive feeling the upstairs gives off, and you find your anxious feelings fading away as you make your way into town.

You eventually find a shop that sells all manor of things, and decide to try your luck inside. The old woman behind the counter greets you with a smile, and just as you’re preparing to use what little Japanese you know, the woman greets you in perfect English.

“Hello dear. What bring you in today?”

You tell her what you’re looking for, and she leads you to a section of the shop where you can see a few wooden frames tucked away in a corner. As you pick out one that looks like it would fit the photo, the woman asks you how long you’d been in Japan for.

“My friends and I arrived last night actually.” You tell her with a smile as you pay for the frame. “We’re going to do some exploring around town when I get back. I’m just here to get a replacement for a picture I dropped last night.”

The older woman hums as she bags your purchase. “I see. Where are you staying dear?”

“I think it’s called the Todoroki house? I can’t remember the exact name of the listing.”

The old woman freezes just as she’s about to give you the bag. Her face displays a myriad of emotions, but the most dominate look on her face is concern… with what appears to be a tinge of fear.

“Do you mean the house that borders Sekoto Peak?” she murmurs quietly. “The one that backs out onto the forest?”

“That’s the one.” You confirm as you gently take the bag from her. “How did you—”

“You shouldn’t stay there.” The older woman cuts you off, shaking her head. “You and your friends should find another place to stay while you’re here.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” you press, causing the woman to swallow heavily. She smooths back a strip of white hair and mutters,

“Bad things have happened in that house. Nasty things.”

“What sort of things?” you ask as you flex your grip on the bag handles. The older woman looks around the store, almost as if she’s checking to see if someone is listening in, before she leans in towards you.

“That house has sat empty since the fire, and for good reason.”

“Fire? What fire? The listing never mentioned anything about a fire.” You mutter. The woman shakes her head, causing white strands of hair to fall out of her bun.

“It wouldn’t. the fire happened over ten years ago. Awful thing. The entirety of Sekoto Peak went up in a blaze. It almost burned down the Todoroki household with all of them in it.”

“All of them?”

The woman nods sagely. “The Todoroki’s. Enji, his wife Rei, and their four children: Fuyumi, Natsuo and the youngest, Shoto.”

“That’s three.” You correct her quietly, “What happened to the fourth?”

The woman’s thin lips press into a firm line, and once again, she looks around the shop nervously. Once she’s content that you’re alone, she continues:

“Their oldest boy died in the Sekoto fire. The blaze was so hot, it turned his bones into ash. There was nothing left for his family to burry.”

You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at her admission. Suddenly, your mind wanders back to the butsudan sitting in your room, and the shattered picture of the snowy-haired boy you found in it.

“What was his name?” you ask her gently. The woman hesitated for a moment, before she sighs, and mutters under her breath,

“Touya Todoroki.”

You feel your blood turn to ice in your veins as you remember the name you found engraved into the dark wood where the picture sat.

Touya. So that was whose room you were staying in, and that was how he died: Burnt to ash and scattered into the wind.No wonder his family didn’t have his ashes in his shrine: there wasn’t anything left of him to grieve.

And you had dropped his fucking picture, shattering it. For all you know, that’s the only thing his family has left of him. The bag you’re holding onto suddenly feels a thousand times heavier in your grasp as you hold it tighter.

If the woman senses your inner turmoil, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she continues on, snapping you back to the present.

“We started hearing about some strange things happening around the house. Sometimes the family would come home and the house would be trashed, other times rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anything…” she paused. “and then the children started seeing things.”

“What kind of things?” You lift your head so you’re looking the older woman in the eyes as she quickly tacks on,

“No one’s really sure. Supposedly they’d wake up in the middle of the night claiming that were being watched, or something was standing in the room with them. Then some awful things started happening to little Shoto…bad things.”

You chew on your lip, not certain if you want to know what she means by that, but you nod, signaling for her to continue. The old woman swallows thickly. “We heard he was clawed multiple times in his sleep… among other things. Whatever was tormenting those children, Shoto got the worst of it. Things were not the same in that house after Touya died, but it didn’t stop.”

The woman frowns softly. “The lack of sleep, and the stress from her son dying must have gotten to Rei over time. Last we heard; she’d taken a kettle to Shoto… burned half of that poor child’s face. Her husband had her committed to a hospital immediately afterwards, and not even a week later, they were gone.”

“They… they just left? Just like that?” you ask subdued, thinking about the other rooms your friends were staying in, and how they were all kid themed. Now that you think about it; it really did seem like whoever last lived in the house left in a hurry. It almost seemed like they hadn’t taken anything with them.

Maybe now you were starting to see why.

“If memory serves, they bought another house closer to the city and moved there. They still own the one you’re staying in… they couldn’t find anyone to move into it, so now they rent it out… a mistake if you ask me.” The old woman informs you bitterly. “Bad things have happened at that place. Nothing ever good came from the other tourists staying in it.”

“Other tourists?” you pipe up, confused. “The site I was using to book made it look like the listing had only been up for a few weeks at most. It didn’t have any reviews or anything.”

The older lady only shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter my dear. Take your friends and find another place to stay. Get out of that house. Take it from me, It’s not worth it.”

Her tone let’s you know the conversation is over. You leave the shop without another word. Feeling lost and overwhelmed from what you discovered. You grip tightens around the handles of the bag as you make your way back to the house, determined not to let what the woman said bother you.

All the while, all you can think about is the pair of cold blue eyes from the other night in your minds eye, staring into your soul, and a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some truth to what the older woman told you.

By the time you get back to the house your friends are gone.

A note on the kitchen counter from your best friend lets you know that your other two friends had gotten impatient, and wanted to do some exploring on their own. She writes that she left some lunch for you in the fridge, and that if you needed anything to text her.

You can’t really blame them for wanting to go out and do their own thing, after all, your errand had taken you longer than you thought it would have, and after everything you’d heard, you just wat to relax for a little bit.

You set the rest of your belongings down and make your way upstairs to the room at the end of the hallway. You stand in front of the sliding door for a moment, almost expecting to feel the familiar, burning sensation from before, but nothing happens, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief and, enter the dark room.

You set your bags down and pull out the new frame you’d picked up, before making your way over to the home shrine. You open the doors slowly and pull out the old picture of the snowy-haired boy. You smile sadly down at it as you slip the worn paper securely in between the wooden slates.

“Sorry Touya. I don’t know what caused the fire, but you didn’t deserve to die like that.”

A sudden wave of exhaustion rolls over you and you stumble backwards slightly. Maybe you were more tired than you originally thought. You think to yourself as you stumble over the to the small bed and collapse down onto it, ignoring your makeshift pile of blankets and pillows you used the night before, as your eyes slowly slide shut.

The last thing you remember seeing before your eyes closed completely was a hazy-looking figure standing in one o the dark corners adjacent to the bed.

-----

Dabi snorts as he watches your eyes close.

Humans are such simple creatures; a mere fraction of his power could send even the strongest-willed ones into the deepest slumber, or curse them with everlasting nightmares if he so chose.

He would know, he’s done it so many times in the past, it’s hardly fun for him anymore.

Once he’s sure you’re not going to wake up, he glides over soundlessly to stare down at your prone form. Originally, he’d planned to kill you after you disrespected his shrine, but the look of horror on your face after he’d partially revealed himself to you, made him reconsider. It’d been so long since he’d seen fear look so delicious on someone – the sadist in him wanted to see more of it.

He told himself he was letting you live because you’d seemed remorseful enough after you’d shattered his picture, and he wanted to see what you’d do to fix the mess you’d created. You hadn’t disappointed him at least – you’d gone out and bought another frame to relace the one you’d broken, just as he heard you say you would. He was still mildly pissed off, but he figured he’d let you live for a little while longer.

At least you were… pretty. He mused to himself as he peered down at you. You had better manners then most of the other tourists who had been brave enough to stay at the house in the past, despite its history with the locals. Many had seen his shrine, and had been stupid enough to go poking around in places where they shouldn’t have, and he couldn’t have that.

Most people didn’t tend to make it past the first night.

Dabi snickers to himself as he backs away from you, allowing his body to turn to smoke once more, just as he hears the tell-tale sounds of your friends re-entering the house from the ground floor.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed you and your friends to stay at the house, but it had been a long time since he last had visitors. He thought he’d done a decent enough job scaring everyone away after the last batch of moronic tourists had come through, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

He’d watch you and your friends for a little while longer before he made himself known, he decided, as he left you alone to wake up slowly.

For now, he was content to sit back and observe. But he’d be out to play very soon.

-----

You wake up to the room smelling faintly of smoke.

You sit up with a groan and hold your head in your hands as you gain your bearings. You couldn’t even remember falling asleep, which was strange, considering you didn’t think you’d been out for very long. A quick glance at your phone confirms your suspicions, leaving you even more confused by what happened, until the sounds of your friend’s laughing downstairs catches your attention.

You stand up too quickly and stumble slightly as the light smell of smoke invades your nose again, making it crinkle.

What the hell? You didn’t remember the room being smokey before you passed out.

You look around the small room, trying to find the source of the smell, but your search turns up nothing, puzzling you further, until something the shop woman said earlier comes to mind:

Strange things started happening around the house; rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anything.

You fight down a laugh that tries to force its way out of your mouth. There was no way the house was haunted, even if the woman you spoke to earlier seemed convinced that it was. Obviously, the last owners of the house had suffered a terrible tragedy with the death of their eldest son, but that didn’t mean that the house itself was haunted. Even the oddities from the night before weren’t enough to truly convince you of that. You could chalk all of it up to you being overtired, which was probably exactly what it was.

The sounds of your friends from the first floor pulls you back to the present, and you make your way downstairs, suddenly grateful for the extra company. You enter the living room and are greeted with the sight of your friends gathered around the seated table in the middle of the room. They wave you over and you sit with them as they tell you about what they did while they were out.

“So, were you able to find a new frame?” your best friend asks you once there’s a lull in the conversation. You nod.

“Yeah, I got one. You’ll never believe what I found out about the house though.”

Your best friend quirks a brow at you, prompting you to continue, and you snicker as you rest your head in your hands. “I spoke to a local earlier. They seem to think this place is haunted.”

“Oh?” you friend asks you from across the table. “What brought them to that conclusion? Nothing weird has happened since we got here.”

“Well, I found out a little bit about the people who lived in the house previously.” You tell her, pointing upwards. “They had four kids, which is why all the rooms upstairs look like they belong to young children, but the eldest died in some sort of forest fire.” You frown slightly as the image of the white-haired boy crosses your mind. “I’m staying in his old room.”

“That’s fucked up.” Your other friend mutters, hugging her legs close to herself. “So what? He’s like… haunting the place or something?”

“I’m not sure.” You admit. “The person I spoke to didn’t say that specifically. Apparently, some weird things started happening after he died, and it drove the mom crazy or something to that effect. They moved out not long after that, but I don’t fully believe the place is haunted. It sounds like there was a lot of personal issues with the family, and that might have had something to do with it.”

“You think the website might have disclosed something like that.” Your best friend interjects quietly, pulling out her phone. “That’s… a lot.”

“Apparently it happened over ten years ago, so it wasn’t recent.” You tell her with a frustrated sigh. “What I’m more interested in, is why the listing didn’t have any reviews on it. According to the person I talked to, the original family rents out the house, and has been doing so for a number of years. When I was booking it for us, the website made it seem like this place was brand new – that no one had stayed in it yet. But it sounds like that’s not the case.”

“Maybe it really is haunted.” Your friend grins, kicking you under the table. You’re about to swat her back, before your best friend’s quiet voice stops you.

“I think you guys need to take a look at this.” She tells you softly, beckoning you all over as she points down at her phone screen. She holds it up, and you can see she’s done a quick search of the house by address. You feel your heart sink as you read the first three web articles that come up in the search:

Three Tourists Found Dead In Japanese Home.

Swedish Couple Found Burnt In Japanese Mansion.

Fraternity Party Gone Wrong As Massive Fire Erupts in Backyard—

You can’t bring yourself to read the rest of the internet searches, and to your horror, it just keeps going. Your friends are just as mortified, if the looks on their faces have anything to say about it.

“What the fuck.” You friend breaths as she shoots you an almost accusatory look. “You didn’t know about this?”

“No! Of course not!” you snap back at her. “If I’d known this was H.H. Holmes house of horrors 2.0, I wouldn’t have booked this place!”

“Well, that explains why it’s so cheap.” Your other friend mutters under her breath, but you can’t bring yourself to care, still too in shock over what you’re reading to come up with a response.

“It’s not her fault!” your best friend cuts in, before either of your friends can say anything else. “If houses are on a booking website for anyone to look at, then they should’ve passed some kind of safety inspection beforehand. How this one was able to be listed with this kind of rap sheet is beyond me, but getting angry about it won’t solve anything.” She turns towards you. “I know you’ve already pre-paid for the house, but would you be open to finding another place to stay for the remainder of the trip?”

“Fine by me.” You mutter. “We’re going to have to stay here until something else comes up though. None of us have the funds on-hand to stay more than several days in a hotel.”

“That’s fine. We’ll figure something out.” You best friend soothes, squeezing you hand. “In the meantime, would anyone like to play a game? Getting overly stressed out about the house isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I’m good.” You mutter, standing up from the table. “Actually, I think I’m going to go lie down. Sorry guys.”

Your friends don’t protest as you leave the room, still in a daze from what you discovered about the house. Suddenly, you would’ve much rather preferred if it was haunted, because in actuality, it was so much worse than what you initially thought.

Screw spirits, this place was a modern-day mass murder site.

As you climb the stairs to the second floor, you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched. You glance down the hallway nervously from your perch on the last step, half expecting to see something waiting for you at the end of the corridor, only to be greeted with the sight of an empty walkway. Even with the reassurance that nothing seemed to be upstairs with you, you can’t shake the feeling that your every movement being monitored.

With bated breath, you slowly peek your head into each child-themed room as you silently make your way down the hall towards your room, but to your relief (and almost slight disappointment), you don’t see anything in the rooms aside from your friend’s luggage. Despite the reassurance, you still feel eyes following your every movement.

The feeling only gets worse as you near your room, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as a sweltering heat suddenly manifests behind you. You don’t know what’s causing it, but any doubts you had about the house possibly being haunted, vanish as you quickly become aware of a presence that wasn’t there before:

There’s something standing behind you. You’re sure of it.

You don’t dare turn around to find out what it is. You fling the sliding door to your room open and slam it shut behind you in one fluid motion without turning around to see what’s behind you. You foolishly thought that you’d feel better once you were out of the hallway, but as soon as you take a step into the room, you’re suddenly aware of how hot the room is.

The still air is sweltering, almost burning – the heat is so intense, it nearly knocks you over as it causes a fresh sheen of sweat to glisten on your brow. You have no idea why the small bedroom is so warm when you know it wasn’t like this when you were in it last. The small thermostat mounted on the far wall only confuses you further, as it shows a cooler temperature then what you’re currently experiencing. At first you think maybe it’s broken, but after playing around with it for a few minutes, you determine that it’s working fine as you dab at your forehead.

Then you feel it again: something is watching you.

Before you can even think to turn around, the glaring blue eyes from the night before flash across your field of vision. You let out a startled yelp before you can stop yourself, as the angry turquoise irises pin you to the spot. Strangely enough, they don’t disappear as quickly as they did the first time, allowing you to get a better look at them.

They have to be the most infuriated set of eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re narrowed in clear distrust, and heavily lidded. The skin under them looks darkened and gnarled, as if it’s been charred, and yet, you can’t help but think they’re the most stunning shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

For some reason, you think you’ve seen them somewhere before.

Almost as if they can sense your shift in thought, the eyes blink, and then they’re gone, leaving you reeling in shock. This time, you know you’re not hallucinating. What you experienced was very much real.

At this point you’re so bewildered, you throw caution to the wind and scour the room, looking for the eyes again. You check under the bed, and in the closet, you even open up the window and stick your head outside to see if someone is out there, but your search turns up nothing, leaving you stumped. All the while, the feeling of being watched becomes increasingly worse, to the point you feel like you’re going to throw up if you stay in the bedroom one second longer.

The room is so suffocating, you end up changing in the bathroom next to the master bedroom, and the feeling is only marginally better as you do your nightly routine. By the time you finish, you’re dreading going back into the bedroom, afraid of what might be waiting for you inside. Your friends are still downstairs, and you contemplate grabbing one of them to help you sweep the room one last time before you try and go to sleep, but you don’t want to bother them, and you have the feeling that they don’t want to talk to you right now anyways.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you steel your nerves and force the door open again, half expecting to see someone standing directly on the other side of the door, but the room is void of any other human life aside from you.

The temperature has gone back down to normal; you note, as you close the door behind you again, and to your relief, you no longer feel like something is watching you. The room is exactly how it was when you woke up this morning, with no indicators that something was ever wrong in the first place.

I must be losing my mind. You think to yourself as you slowly sink back down onto your makeshift bed on the floor, but a small part of you doesn’t think that you are. You know for a fact something was behind you in the hallway. You’re not sure what it was, but you know something was there.

And you know that you weren’t imagining those eyes either.

As you lay on the pillows and wait for sleep to take you under, you glance at the dark butsudan in the corner. You don’t know what possesses you to say it, but you sigh under your breath as you turn over onto your side so you’re facing the dark cabinet.

“Good night Touya.”

You’re certainly not expecting a response, but you realize with a jolt how quiet the room has suddenly become. You can’t even hear the dull hum of the air conditioner anymore as you slowly look around the dark expanse of the room.

You re-direct your attention to the dark cabinet, when realization suddenly hits you full force. You slowly peel off your blanket and make your way towards the doors. Opening them gently, you’re greeted with the familiar sight of the photograph of the snowy-haired child, frozen forever in time.

You kneel down until you’re eye-level with the picture of the boy. Your eyes trace over his delicate features, taking in the fullness of his cheeks and the soft looking texture of his hair, but you’re hyper-focused on his eyes, more specifically, the particular shade of them. Sure enough, they’re the same piercing blue as the ones from earlier.

“What the fuck?” you breathe, as you lean in for a closer look. “What the hell is going on here—”

“More then you know.”

Your eyes widen impossibly at the sound of the raspy voice behind you. Before you can even think to scream for help, the feeling of immense fatigue washes over you like a tidal wave, rendering you senseless.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, and roll back against your will no matter how hard you struggle to keep them open. You feel yourself pitch back into unfamiliar arms, and the last thing you remember seeing before you pass out completely, is the metal glint of staples and the same burning eyes staring back down at you from the picture of the small boy.

-----

Dabi catches you before you can hit the floor.

He doesn’t bother concealing himself as he watches the consciousness leave your eyes before they dip closed, knowing that you saw him, or at least, what’s left of him.

He scoops you up and deposits you on his old bed, staring down at you for a moment longer then necessary, before leaving you alone to sleep off his influence.

He allows himself to fade out before reappearing in the gardens just outside the living room, where he can hear your friends talking amongst themselves without a care in the world – completely oblivious to his presence.

He snorts to himself. He’d fix that soon. Playtime was over, and he was getting bored.

A bored Dabi was a vicious one.

He’d wait until they went to bed before making himself known. It would give him time to figure out what he wanted to do with you in the meantime.

It was a little ridiculous, honestly. Normally he had no qualms about killing anyone who stepped foot in his house – the long list of people who he’d killed in and around the property was a testament to that – but he had some reservations with you.

You, the first person who had managed to capture his attention since he had become what he is now.

He’s not sure what exactly drew him to you. Maybe it was your kind disposition, maybe it was because he didn’t find you as annoying or clueless as your idiotic friends, or maybe it was because out of all of the people who had come through the house, you were the only one who had bothered to show some shred of respect to his burial shrine, or even bother to learn his past name. Regardless, he could say with certainty that ever since he turned into this, he had never taken in interest in someone as much as he had you.

He’s still not even sure what he is exactly. He’s not dead, though his outward appearance might suggest otherwise. His body – as damaged as it is – is still very much solid, and he still ages, though seemingly at a slower rate than before. He’s not the same thirteen-year-old boy as he was when he was incinerated. He’s older now, roughly in his mid to late twenties, just like he would’ve been if he were still alive. A demon is more accurate term to describe what he is; since he’s able to exist in the physical world, and incinerate his victims, turning them into little more than piles of ash. Ironic, the powers he came back with where the same ones that killed him in the first place.

Dabi glances down at his arms, taking in the sight of his scorched, mangled skin, held together by what little of his healthy skin remained with surgical staples, before chuckling to himself as he notes his macabre reflection in a passing window.

He didn’t always look like this: a walking corpse with an appetite for destruction and death. Ever since he burned up, this reality has been his life now. But he’s not really living, is he? He’s not dead, but he’s not exactly alive either. He exists somewhere in between both planes of Earth and Hell.

Touya was dead, but Dabi is very much alive, at least, he thinks so. All it took was for his past self to die – turned to ash and scattered into the wind. At least, that’s what his family thinks happened to him. In actuality, what really happened was far more gruesome. The memory almost makes him smile.

The fire was hot. He remembers that vividly. He hadn’t meant to set Sekoto on fire, he really hadn’t. He’d gone for a walk to escape from his hellish household for a while – The neglect from his father had been getting to him more than normal, so he had gone deep into the forest behind his house to escape for a little while. The air had been dry and the lighter he forgot he had in his pocket had fallen out, igniting the forest around him faster then he could put it out.

He should’ve died. This much he knows, but for some reason, he didn’t. Despite it all, he lived. He’s not exactly sure how much time passed from when the flames completely engulfed him to when he regained consciousness, but what he does know is that when he woke up again, he was this… thing. Half alive, half dead, and full of rage and pure fire.

By the time he’d made it back to the house, it was apparent that quite some time had passed, and his family believed him to be dead. They had moved on without him, but the most horrifying realization of all was even though he was gone, nothing had changed in his absence.

His father was still a bastard, and his mother and siblings were still sheep as far as he was concerned.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

From then on, he terrorized the house. At first, he was content to simply scare his family; standing in the corners of his sibling’s rooms while they tried to sleep, purposely letting them see him in all of his nightmarish glory, to making things go bump in the night to keep his parents always on edge, never letting them sleep or know a moments peace.

When his father demanded they ignore what was happening (despite the terrified claims of his siblings), he kicked it up a notch.

He started set things on fire randomly, taking sick delight in the panicked screams of his mother and siblings, and the look of dread on his father’s face. He’d destroy the house while his family was out, carving twisted messages on the walls to let them know he was there, cackling as their collective will to try and ignore what was happening began to waver. Finally, when that got boring: he started physically lashing out.

That they couldn’t ignore.

He often targeted his youngest brother, Shoto. Not only because he was his father’s favourite (and his replacement), but because he often made it too easy for him.

When he had gouged deep, red lines into his brother’s back for the umpteenth time, it had sent his mother over the edge. She broke – either from the stress caused by his father and her terrified children, or the lack of sleep – and had scalded Shoto’s face, burning him to the point it couldn’t be hidden, much to his glee.

She was carted off to an institution shortly afterwards, and his father had packed up his siblings and left the house not long after that, never to return.

The house had sat vacant for a while, leaving him to roam about its halls freely, and even though people occasionally came to see the mansion from time to time with the intention of buying it, they never ended up staying long, as he’d always find a way to chase them off, further souring the manor’s reputation.

For a long time, no one had come to the house, and he had eventually drifted off to sleep in the welcoming darkness, only to be awoken again after an uncertain amount of time by random strangers in his house. From them, he discovered when his father hadn’t been able to sell the estate due to its less than stellar reputation, he had decided to rent it out as a guest house in an attempt to bury the truth about what happened all those years ago.

The thought infuriated him.

His father might have been content to try and forget about him, but Dabi was more spiteful then Touya had ever been. Dabi always remembered and never forgave.

If he couldn’t take his rage out directly on his father… then the cannon folder he sent willingly into the house would have to do.

From then on, he made it his personal mission to burn everything and everyone who set foot in the house, if only so word could get back to his father to let him know that he was still here and still pissed.

He’s not sure how the old man does it, but every time he ends up killing someone who’s stupid enough to rent out the house despite its reputation, his father is somehow able to cover it up. He’s killed well over thirty people at this point (though he stopped counting after thirty-two), and yet they still keep coming – though less frequently than before.

Perhaps it’s his old man’s way of atoning: by sending unaware people into the house so he can take his wrath out on them instead of him. There’s no way his father doesn’t know it’s him by now. He simply doesn’t want to face the monster he created, and is more then content to let other people suffer in his place instead. He always was a coward like that.

His good for nothing father… the reason he’s like this in the first place—

Dabi hisses irritably to himself. Best not to think about him. It only made him even more homicidal than he already was.

He allows himself to turn to smoke once more, and mist back into the house so he can keep a closer eye on your friends. He watches as they head off to bed, stalking them from the shadows as they settle down in his siblings’ old rooms for the night, but there would be no sleeping for them tonight, he would make sure of that.

Tonight, he wanted to have a little fun – to shatter the fragile illusion of peace they had created.

Once he’s sure that your friends are mostly asleep, he slithers into the room of the friend who had been so rude to you earlier. He looms over her prone from with a sick grin plastered across his face.

Time to let them know they weren’t alone in the house as they thought.

-----

You wake to the sound of blood-curdling screams echoing from down the hall.

It takes your sleep-addled brain a moment to realize that it’s coming from the room your friend claimed as her own, but the moment you do, you’re up and all but running down the hall to the room as her terrified screams get louder and louder.

You call out her name desperately as you stumble into the dark room, flicking on the light as your tired eyes find her thrashing form hopelessly tangled in the sheets on the twin sized mattress. You rip the blankets off of her, calling her name, only to realize her eyes are still tightly shut, but her hands are grabbing at her back, as if she’s in pain.

You shake her awake violently and her eyes fly open just as your other friends rush into the room behind you. Your friend’s mouth twists open into another scream as she grasps at her back, wailing as she begins to sob unconsolably.

“The man! The man! Did you see him?” She wails as she writhes on the mattress, clawing at the back of her sleep shirt.

“What man? What are you talking about?” You ask her as you desperately try to calm her down while she continues to sob.

“How can you not see him?” she cries unconsolably. “He was there, he was right there!” she points to the spot where you’re currently kneeling, still in tears. You look around the small space, but aside from you and your friends, there’s no one else in the room with you. You shoot a bewildered look at your friends who are still crowding the door frame, and they return the look.

“Sweetheart, there’s no one else here.” Your best friend tries to sooth her as she slowly makes her way over to where you’re sitting, and kneels down beside you at the foot of the bed. “You just had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“No, he was real, he was there, I saw him!” your friend bursts into a fresh wave of tears as she curls into a ball. “He was there, just standing over me with that horrible grin on his face. Oh god, his face!”

“What did he look like?” you press. “No one else has come in or out of the house aside from us! We would’ve noticed if someone else was here!” The words sound hollow, even to you. You can’t help but think of the rough voice you heard earlier before you passed out, and for some reason the unsettling blue eyes from the last two days haunt your thoughts.

Your fears are only confirmed as your friend manages to choke out: “He had burns all over his face and arms… and his eyes… they were so blue… so, so blue.”

You’re frozen in place, unable to speak, as your friend finally manages to pull her sleep shirt up, exposing her back. “That’s not all he did… he—he clawed me. He clawed my back. It hurts so fucking bad…”

You peer at her back and feel faint as you take in the sight of five angry red lines running from the top of her back, all the way down to the end of her ribs. The cuts are deep, and some of the marks are slowly oozing blood, as your friend continues to cry.

“What the fuck.” You hear your other friend breathe, as she finally makes her way over so she can get a closer look at the marks. “Are… are you sure you didn’t just scratch yourself in your sleep?”

“There’s no way she did this to herself.” You mutter as you touch the worst of the marks, feeling your friend flinch under your touch, and muttering a quiet apology to her. “They’re too deep to be self-inflicted. She would’ve woken herself up. Something did this to her.”

“What then?” your other friend groans as you retract your hand and pull your still sobbing friend’s shirt back down.

“I don’t know!” you snap. “A fucking ghost from the sounds of it.”

“It was the man… the burned man.” Your friend mumbles as her tears finally begin to slow. “He’s real, he was there, I saw him!”

“Well, whatever he is, he’s not here now.” you mutter, wearily looking around the room. “C’mon. We gotta get you cleaned up. You can sleep with one of us, we’ll bring your stuff with you.”

“I’m not sleeping in your room. Not with that thing in there.” Your friend whimpers as your best friend helps her up slowly.

She means the butsudan. You don’t blame her for that one. It is pretty unsettling in the dark.

“She can sleep with me.” Your best friend offers gently as she helps your friend to stand. She gives you and your other friend a pointed look as she slowly ushers your still crying friend out of the room. “Keep an eye out for anything strange. If what she’s saying is true, then we might not be alone in the house.”

“Yeah, sure.” Your friend mutters sullenly beside you as both girls leave the room to go back to your best friend’s room. As soon as they’re out of sight she gives you a pointed look. “Still think this place isn’t haunted?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe quietly, as you look around the room one last time. “I seriously don’t know.”

None of you end up sleeping through the night.

The incident with your friend set you all on edge, the slightest sounds in the house would wake you up in a panic, looking around for some unseen intruder – only to see nothing, but still feel like there were eyes watching you from somewhere, though you couldn’t pin point where from.

Your friends didn’t fair much better either, and by the time the first rays of morning sun peaked through the cracks in the blinds, you were already up and so were they.

Breakfast is a quiet affaire. None of you slept much after your friend was attacked, and the bags residing under all of your eyes are telling. Your friend barely says two words the whole time, absentmindedly stirring her tea while lightly touching her back. Your best friend had done her best to clean up the wounds and bandage it, but you could tell it was still bothering her.

You don’t even know what to say to her. You don’t know what to say to any of your friends. Do you tell them about what’s been happening to you the last several days? Do you stay silent in order not to worry them any further? You don’t know what to do.

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything, because your best friend breaks the silence.

“I think we need to discuss what happened last night.” She says quietly but firmly. She gestures to your still silent friend. “Something attacked her last night. I don’t know what exactly, but I don’t think this place is safe to stay in anymore. We were deceived and lied to, and I think it’s best if we find another place to spend the rest of our trip.”

“I agree. You other friend mutters next to you. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. I kept hearing you guys whispering and playing on your phones all night long.”

Your brows furrow as you turn to her. “I wasn’t on my phone, and I sure as hell wasn’t whispering to anyone last night, I was by myself.”

She glances back at you, almost as if she doesn’t believe you, before she sends a questioning look at your best friend who also shakes her head, gesturing between her and you friend who has yet to say a word. “We weren’t on our phones either. We were cuddling the whole night, but we weren’t talking.”

“Are you sure?” you friend presses harshly. “I kept hearing things last night. It didn’t really sound like any of you, but it was really distorted and muffled so I couldn’t be sure. I thought you playing on your phones or something.”

“After what happened, no. I wanted to be as alert as possible.” You tell her sincerely. “I don’t think any of us slept after that.”

“What the hell…” you friend mutters, rubbing at her temples. “I definitely heard voices last night. I don’t know what they were saying, but they didn’t seem happy—“

A sudden sound of shattering glass from upstairs stops what she was saying, causing all four of you to stop and look at each other with wide eyes. Your friend who was clawed suddenly bursts into tears, and hugs her knees to her chest. “Fuck this, I don’t like it here! I wanna leave!”

“We will!” you assure her as you slowly get up from your chair. “Screw this place. We’ll stay in a hotel if we have to, and then we can figure something else out from there.”

“Where are you going?” you best friend asks as you slowly make your way towards the stairs.

“We have to get our things. We can’t just ditch everything here; our passports are upstairs.” You try to reason with her as she follows you to the base of the stairs. “You three wait down here, I’ll go see what that sound was and I’ll get our things together.”

Your best friend looks like she’s about to offer to come with you, but you shake your head before she can, and purposely lower your voice as she comes closer to you.

“I think it’s better if you stay down here and keep them calm.” You murmur to her as you quietly admit; “Some weird things have been happening to me since we came here too, but I haven’t been physically attacked. It’s probably better if only one of us goes. If I need you. I’ll call.”

Your best friend opens her mouth like she’s going to argue with you, but the look you give her makes her relent. She sighs. “I’ll give you five minutes to grab the important stuff, then we gotta go. I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from this place now… it’s… oppressive.”

You know what she means, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you slowly make your way up the wooden steps and onto the second floor.

It’s eerily silent. Too quiet for it to be considered normal, especially after hearing something breaking. Despite how still the upstairs floor appears to be, the air is charged, almost electric with how much energy is coursing through the air around you. Your best friend was right: it is oppressive up here, more so now than before, and you don’t like the shift in energy.

Holding your breath, you creep through the hallway towards the bathroom, the only place you can think of that has glass in it. You don’t stop to peer into each of the bedrooms – too scared of what you might be staring back at you – until you’re finally in front of the bathroom door. You push it open gingerly, only to gasp at what awaits you inside.

The large mirror that was previously mounted above the vanity is cracked beyond repair. Large pieces of glass have fallen into the sink, while others are scattered around the counter or on the floor near it. It almost looks like someone punched the glass by how it’s shattered, but you don’t see how that’s possible.

Forgetting your pervious hesitation, you make your way into the bathroom to investigate the damage. You squat down and pick up a large piece of glass near you as you hold it up to your face, and that’s when you see it…

No, not it. Him.

Towering behind you is a man. He’s dressed in tattered black clothing from head to toe, save for an ash-stained white t-shirt. His inky black spikes give him the impression of being covered in soot, or having freshly walked out of some dark abyss, but what stands out most to you about his startling appearance, are the scars.

He’s covered in gnarled, wine-tainted skin, from under his eyes, to his lower jaw, and down his neck from what you’re able to see peeking out from underneath his clothes. The damaged skin is angry and inflamed, held onto what remains of his pale, healthy skin by jarring surgical staples. The silver rings look like they were harshly dug into his mottled skin in a futile attempt to keep him together, and you can’t help but wonder if they hurt him, seeing how many he has decorating his patchwork skin.

You gasp as you whip yourself around on your hunches, tossing the broken piece of mirror away from you in your panic, as you scoot backwards until your back hits the opposite wall. Bits of stray glass dig into your palms but you don’t dare take your eyes off the stranger.

He grins wickedly at your terror – showcasing white teeth too sharp to be considered normal – as your eyes slowly make their way up his body to rest on his. Your breath hitches as you find yourself staring up into electric blue eyes – the very same ones that had been haunting you since you arrived.

You open your mouth to scream – whether for help, or to warn your friends of the man – before the disturbing smile slips off the man’s face momentarily as he growls at you, “Quiet.”

You feel lightheaded as you hear him speak for the first time. You recognize his voice too. It was the same voice from before you suddenly passed out yesterday. Just how long had he been in the house with you and your friends? Who was he?

Despite your mounting panic, you nod slowly, not wanting to piss the strange man off further, and he rewards you with a small nod, the unnerving smile returning to his face as he stares you down.

He holds a finger up to his two-toned lips. “Shh.” He tells you through a grin. “Not a sound, or I’ll burn this fucking house to the ground with you and your friends in it.”

You shake your head frantically, torn between wanting to beg him to spare your friends and you, but not wanting him to act on his promise. Once he’s content you’re not going to scream, he straightens up slightly and takes a slow step towards you, his massive black combat boots crunching the glass underneath it ominously, until he’s directly in front of your trembling form.

He bends down so you’re eye-level with each other and reaches down with one freakishly warm hand, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him directly in his blazing azure irises. “Do you know who I am?”

You shake your head as much as you can without him digging his fingers into your skin.

He snorts. “Figures. Why don’t you take a closer look? You’ve seen me before.”

You have no idea what he means, but you hesitantly looking up into his face again. You scan it closely, all the while the man doesn’t remove his fingers from under your chin, keeping your head in place as he allows you to examine him. Now that you have a closer look at him, you can see three studs on one side of his nose and several other cartilage piercings lining his burnt ears, as well as the staples holding the scorched skin under his eyes together and the burns lining his lower jaw.

The longer you gaze at him, the more you start to realize that he’s right, you have seen him before. He’s older now, his hair is onyx instead of white, and his features have changed drastically, but his eyes… his eyes haven’t changed from the old photo of him in his shrine—

“Touya.” You breath, causing a smirk to grace the man’s scarred lips.

“There you go.” He rumbles, tapping your cheek once before straightening back up, finally releasing you from his scorching grip.

“How?” you whisper, as you reach up to touch your skin., still feeling the searing imprints of where his fingers were on you. “You… you’re dead… you died—”

“No.” the scarred man shakes his head. “Touya died, but Dabi is still very much alive.”

The bathroom suddenly heats up all around you like a sauna, making you flinch at the sudden change in temperature. You peer at him, taking in his deranged appearance. “You’re not human… are you?”

Dabi only grins wider. “No.”

“Then what are you?” you whisper, dreading the answer, but needing to know.

The raven-haired man’s smile pulls at the staples near his mouth. He opens his mouth to answer you, only to be interrupted by the sounds of frantic pounding on the bathroom door.

“Are you in there?” you hear you best friend call out from the other side of the door. “You’re taking way too long! What are you doing?”

“No! Don’t come in! He’s in here” you scream before realizing your mistake. You slap your hand over your mouth, eyes like saucers, as a threatening snarl rips its way out of Touya—no, Dabi’s throat, as he turns to face the door.

“What are you talking about? Who’s in there?” your best friend yells back. You watch helplessly as the doorknob shakes. “Unlock the door!”

Dabi watches the doorknob rattle some more, before casting a careless look over his shoulder at you. “Your friends are pretty annoying.” He rasps, eyes suddenly cold as ice. “I think I’ve tolerated them enough. You’re lucky I view you differently. Otherwise, you’d end up the same as what they’re going to be.”

“Stop it! What do you mean? What are you going to do to them?” You sob, completely frozen in your terror, but to your horror he only smirks as one of his scarred hands suddenly erupts into bright blue flames.

Your tears dry in your eyes as you watch the azure flames lick up his flesh and tattered clothing. The cries of your best friend, and the pounding on the door fade away into background noise as your brain struggles to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“You wanna know what I am?” Dabi rumbles, eyes glinting meanly as he takes in your shaking form. “Here’s your chance.”

“No don’t hurt them!” you wail, as you bolt to your feet. You leap towards him in a desperate attempt to stop him, only to collide into the sink. You look around the small bathroom frantically, but the man—no, the demon is gone. You don’t get to ponder how that’s possible, before you hear a scream from other side of the door. You instantly recognize the cry belonging to your best friend, and you feel your blood turn to ice in your veins at her panicked screams because she sounds absolutely terrified.

You fling yourself towards the door and grasp the handle, jiggling it frantically, before you realize you’re locked in the bathroom from the outside. You pound on the bathroom door, calling out for your best friend to run, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of roaring flames from outside of the door. You feel the wood heat up to insane levels under your palms, and it takes you a moment to realize you can’t hear your best friend outside the door any more.

You quickly devolve into hysterical sobs, sinking to the bathroom floor, as you slow, methodical foot-steps walk past the door and down the stairs. You swear you hear the faint screams of your two other friends’ downstairs, but they fall silent all too soon as well.

You don’t know how long you’re stuck in the bathroom for, but eventually, you hear a click from the bathroom handle, signaling that the door had somehow unlocked itself. You slowly push yourself to your feet and shakily open the door, only to let out a blood-curling scream at the sight that awaits you out in the hall.

The hallway is a mess. The walls are blackened, and look like they’ve been ravaged by fire. The air is thick and smoky, making you gag on the ash that floats through the air like gray snow, but the true horror is what lies just outside the bathroom door.

There is a corpse a foot away from the bathroom and you already know it’s your best friend as you take in what’s left of her. She’s burnt so badly that you can barely make out any distinguishable features, much to your horror, but you know it’s her. You rip your eyes away from her as you reach violently – you can’t bring yourself to look at her any longer otherwise you’ll lose what little of your sanity remains. For some reason you suddenly remember what she told you about the other people who’d stayed in the house before you and your friends had arrived – how they had met violent, fiery ends themselves – and you know she befell the same fate as them.

You hadn’t understood how it had been possible at the time. Now you understood all too well.

You don’t even have time to properly morn her, before it occurs to you that you left your other friends’ downstairs, and you don’t know where they are. You choke broken apologies to your dear friend as you stagger away from her, knowing there isn’t anything you can do for her now, and force your legs to descend the stairs, dreading what awaits you on the lower level of the house.

The downstairs hasn’t fared much better. The air is stagnant and a thick haze of smoke rolls overhead, followed by the potent smell of burnt flesh. The smell gets worse the closer you come to the kitchen, and a fresh wave of tears stings your eyes as you peer overtop of the counter, only to come face to face with two other freshly charred corpses on the other side of it. Just like that, any hope you had of your other friends making it out of the house are shattered, and you know that your friends are no more.

Your legs give out, and you hit the refrigerator hard as you crumple onto the floor. You whimper and shake as you sob into your palms, barely able to process what the hell happened to your friends. The terrifying thing is, you know what happened – or rather – who happened, and you don’t know what he is or where he is, and that thought petrifies you.

Almost as if he can sense your thoughts; the air around you heats up to concerning levels, and you know the scarred man is standing directly in front of you. You don’t bother looking up, keeping your face buried in your hands as you sob. You don’t see much of a point facing him, you already know what he’s going to do to you. You wait for the searing blue flames he’d shown you in the bathroom to tear you apart, much like it did your friends, but blistering heat never comes.

Instead, you hear the man—Touya, Dabi—you’re not particularly sure what to call him now – huff, before two heated hands slide under your arms and pull you into a standing position much to your protest. You try and push him away, but he only tightens his grip on you as you try and bat at him through your tears.

“You—you killed them.” you sob as you try and dislodge his hold on you. “Why? Why Touya? What did they ever do to you?”

“They were irritating me. They had to go.” The dark-haired man states plainly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Surely you didn’t think that your friend was exaggerating when she showed you my house’s history. I don’t like unwelcome guests. Especially annoying ones.”

“Oh god you killed all those people.” You cry as your mind flashes back to the extensive history your best friend had shown you of the horrid deaths that had occurred on and around the property. You steel your nerves best you can before you dare to ask your next question: “So, you’re going to do the same to me aren’t you?”

Dabi falls silent at your question, and you feel his hold on you shift slightly as his thumbs rub circles onto your arms in what you assume is a feeble attempt at comfort. “No.”

“No?” you echo incredulously through your tears. “What do you mean, no? You had no problems murdering my friends. What makes me any different?”

“I don’t know.” Dabi hums and you see he wears a thoughtful expression on his scarred face as e takes you in. “I don’t know what makes you different from the rest, but you are.”

You don’t bother hiding the shudder that makes it’s way up your spine at his choice of words. You don’t like what he’s implying, and your stomach twists itself into knots when he utters his next words:

“It’s decided. I’m going to keep you. You’re mine.”

You shake your head frantically. “No.”

Dabi smirks meanly. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t belong to you. I’m not going anywhere with you.” You resume your desperate attempt to get out of his bruising hold on you. “Let go of me right now.”

“I don’t think so.” Dabi hisses, smoke pouring out of his mouth, halting your struggle. Your eyes widen impossibly, and the unshed tears in your eyes dry, as you watch the man in front of you start to change before your very eyes.

His haunting blue eyes grow even brighter, and you watch with horror as the part of his chest that isn’t covered by his ash-stained shirt starts to glow a frightening blue – almost as if he’s being lit up from inside his body like some sort of demonic jack-o-lantern. You can visibly see heat-waves vibrate the air around you, as his grip on you becomes white hot, to the point that you can feel your skin of your arms being burned into the shape of his hands. Smoke hisses out of the seams in his face as the pyromaniac pins you to the wall behind you, and suddenly all you see is white.

For a horrible second you think you’ve died – incinerated to nothing but ash – until you blink and realize the dark figure before you is no more. Instead, you find yourself staring at a white-haired man, dressed in a pale, flowing robe, which you faintly recognize as a traditional burial shroud.

For a second, you allow yourself to forget about the atrocities he’s committed. For a brief moment, he is simply Touya again; a small boy who lived and died all too soon. You don’t know how or why he came back as the creature that stands before you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Touya is dead. All that remains is a damaged husk who wears what’s left of his face.

“What the hell?” you gasp as Dabi leans in close to you, grinning manically as he allows you to get a good look at him. It’s only then that you realize the burns on his face have somehow gotten worse, as well as the ones that mar the visible parts of his body from what you can see under his clothes.

“Do ya get it now?” he rasps, as his eyes adopt a hooded look. “I have powers far beyond what you can imagine. You can’t hope to escape from me, so you might as well accept it and submit to me willingly.”

“I don’t—” whatever you were about to say is cut off as the demon roughly smashes his lips onto yours, effectively silencing you, as he pulls you in.

You’re so disorientated all you can do is let him kiss you. The smell of sulfur that persistently clings to him invades your nose and makes you light-headed. You almost loose your fading grasp of what little remains of your sanity, until the faint smell of burnt meat brings you back to the depressing reality of your situation.

Your friends are dead. Killed by this demon’s wrathful flames. You can’t let him do the same to you. You have to get out of here.

Spurred by pure adrenaline, you kiss him back. You feel Dabi reflexively stiffen at your sudden eagerness, before he lets out a pleased nose at the action. His grip lessens on your arms, and you take your chance.

You wrench your arms out of his abnormally warm hands and shove him back from you. Dabi grunts and his eyes narrow dangerously at you as he registers what happened.

“Don’t you dare—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish his sentence. You bolt to the nearest exit which happens to be the side door that leads out into the backyard. You throw it open and hit the ground running, making a beeline towards the back of the property where the beginning of Sekoto forest starts. You figure if you can get to the woods, you’ll be able to hide and eventually find your way to the surrounding town so you can get help. To your horror, the outside world is pitch black, signaling night has fallen. Just how much time had passed since you’d first encountered the demon--?

A rumbling sound followed by an intense blast of heat and the deafening roar of fire has you turning back towards the mansion, only to scream in horror as you watch it erupt into an inferno of bright blue flames.

You fall backwards just on the edge of Sekoto forest as you watch as the manor is consumed by the blaze, only for your eyes to widen in pure fear as a figure emerges from the flames.

Dabi strolls out of the fire unscathed as if he’s taking a leisurely stroll somewhere, and not walking out of hell itself. His fiery blue irises find your frightened ones, and a slow grin spreads itself across his two-toned lips.

“That was dumb.” He admonishes you. “Do you really think you can escape from me? Just give up now and save yourself the trouble.”

You push yourself back up from off the ground. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. If you want to take me, you’ll have to kill me first.”

His grin flickers slightly, and an unkind glint enters his eyes as he regards you cooly. “That can be arranged.” He rumbles low in his throat as he stalks towards you, moving faster then you thought possible.

You let out a yelp and book it into the dark woods behind you, running away from the inferno that was once a beautiful home, away from your friends, and away from the demon behind it all.

You hear him laugh once, a curt, sharp noise, as you flee into the dense underbrush.

“Run, little mouse.” He calls after you mockingly. “I will catch you, and once I do, you’re mine.”

You hope he won’t make good on that promise.

-----

Which brings you back to the predicament you currently find yourself in.

You’re still huddled behind the tree, contemplating what to do as you hear Dabi’s raspy voice continue to slowly count down from ten a few feet away from your hiding spot.

At some point you believe he may have set the forest on fire behind him when he entered in an attempt to smoke you out, because the ominous blue glow of his flames seems to be encroaching on your location from all sides, and the smoke in the air is getting progressively thicker, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been dodging Dabi in the forest for, but dawn looks no closer to arriving then it did when you first escaped from the house. You don’t bother concealing your sobs as you cry freely, not knowing what to do.

You were trapped. You didn’t see a way out. He had you cornered on all sides, boxing you in.

He had lived up to his promise after all.

You glance up at the canopy of branches above your head, hoping to catch one last look at the stars, but you’re so far into the woods embrace, you can’t see their tiny lights.

You force a watery smile on your lips as you prepare to step out from behind the tree and face the pale haired demon.

At least you’d had a little bit of fun during the first part of your trip. You just wish your friends hadn’t had to die such pointless, painful deaths. They hadn’t deserved that.

You breathe in slowly and take a step out to the side, ready to face Dabi head-on in one last show of defiance, only to realize you don’t hear him counting anymore.

You whip your head around the tree to the spot you’d last heard him, only to discover he’s not there.

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you recall how quickly he was able to move from one place to another, seemingly vanishing before your eyes, only to reappear in a completely different spot. It’s even more terrifying out in the total darkness of the forest.

The smell of sulfur enters your nose once more, and you turn back around, only to find yourself staring into burning turquoise eyes, surrounded by wine-tinted skin and surgical staples.

You don’t even have time to scream before a searing hand wraps itself around your throat, pinning your back to the tree as you gasp, and claw frantically at the charred skin of his forearm.

“Found you.” Dabi hisses as he leans in, his eyes mocking as he scolds you. “Did you really think you’d be able to escape from me? Sekoto Peak was my playground when I was alive. I know this forest like the back of my hand. You couldn’t possibly hope to escape.”

“G-go to hell.” You sputter out, but he only throws his head back to laugh at your weak insult.

“Been there, done that. Hell doesn’t want me, Doll. They sent me back so I could fuck with my bastard of a father, and the weak, pathetic people he sends to my damn home.”

“So… all those people you killed… and my friends and me.” You wheeze, giving up at trying to dislodge his grip from your throat. What was the point anyways?

Something in his rage filled eyes softens as he regards you quietly. His free hand reaches up to trace one of your cheeks absentmindedly.

“No.” Dabi mutters, almost to himself. “Not you. I don’t know what makes you so different than the others that came before you, but I suppose I have an eternity to figure it out.”

A lone tear rolls down your cheek at his words, and he swipes it away before lessening his grip on your throat slightly so he can lean in to kiss you again.

This time, the kiss isn’t as rough or demanding as the first one It’s not tender, or sweet, but you can tell that for the first time in his life, he’s trying to be gentle. In his own warped way.

When he pulls back, he looks away from you to something behind him. You follow his gaze, and you feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach as you see a black void materialize itself behind him out of thin air.

You don’t bother asking what it is. You already know.

You start to tremble violently. Dabi spares you an unreadable look as his scorched hand trails down your arm to grasp you hand tightly, his thumb warming circles on the back of your hand.

“You don’t need anyone else.” He tells you as he pulls away from you, not letting go of you hand. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You belong to me, I’ll be the only one you need. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Please don’t do this.” You beg him one more time. Trying to reach out to any remanent of Touya that remained locked away inside of the demon. “You don’t have to do this Touya.”

The white-haired man freezes slightly and spares you a singular glance over his shoulder, and it tells you all you need to know:

Touya is gone. He had been for a long time. All that remains is Dabi, and all he knows how to do is take. There will be no sympathy from him.

“Let’s go home.” He tells you quietly, as he pulls you into the dark void after him.

You regret the day you found that god-forsaken listing.

Breaking News: House Of Horrors Home Burns To The Ground.

Police have deemed blaze suspicious and are still looking for the cause of fire.

Four tourists were staying in the house at the time of arson. All woman in their twenties. So far three bodies have been found and identified. Police are still looking for the fourth woman.

If you have any information about the fire or the whereabouts of the missing woman, please call the non-emergency service number provided below.

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