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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 days ago

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Autopsy of a Scene: “Ellen's Possession”

Context

Victorian society (early 19th century): Wives were their husband’s property; sex as marital duty and for male pleasure alone (women's sexuality owned by their husbands); married heterosexual sex was the only socially acceptable sexual expression; women seen as innocent and naïve (infantilization); marriage and motherhood as women's destiny; men as providers and authoritarian figures (wives must obey their husbands); love vs. passion (opposites concepts);

Literary themes: the "threat of female sexuality" from "Dracula" by Bram Stoker; the figure of the "sick woman" as one of the principal ways in which female sexuality manifests as a contagious disease;

Ellen's supernatural gifts (trance mediumship) medicalized by Victorian society as "hysteria" and "melancholy"

Ellen and Count Orlok "countdown"

When Orlok arrives at Wisburg, Ellen gives him entrance into the Harding household by opening the window to him, dooming everyone inside (Orlok has to be invited in, like every strigoi, and the narrative establishes this several times). This is the first time they are meeting "in the flesh". Ellen accuses him of corrupting her innocence and of being a villain, to which he replies he's an appetite because she cursed him to be a strigoi when she bought him back from the dead ("O’er centuries, a loathsome beast I lay within the darkest pit ‘til you did wake me, enchantress, and stirred me from my grave. You are my affliction"). Orlok tells her that Thomas has signed an annulment of their marriage in exchange for a bag of gold, and that Ellen is promised to him, but she needs to accept him of her own free will ("the compact commands she must willingly re-pledge her vow. She cannot be stolen").

Ellen is both attracted and disgusted by him, and claims to hate Orlok, and he accuses her of being false. Ellen being repulsed by Orlok is connected to her inner conflict about her own sexuality, and her sexual cravings (all connected to Orlok himself). And so, he vows to prove his hostility, too, giving her three nights (which are, in fact, two) for her to accept him.

The first night was the present, and she denied herself by denying her nature, and so Ellen will suffer him, the monster of her own creation, to vanish the lives of those she loves. And Orlok tells her she will "submit" on the third night, otherwise “he you call your husband shall perish by my hand”. Until she commands him to come to her, “shall you watch the world become as naught”.

Orlok cannot actually kill Thomas without being given entrance into his house (invited in), but this empty threat has another purpose; Orlok is set on destroying Ellen’s Victorian self-deception ("you deceive yourself"), and forcing her to see what he told her twice already (“you are not for the living, you are not for human kind”). He wants her to see that her nature will never be accepted by Victorian society.

“It is not me. It is your own nature.”

Friedrich Harding kicks Ellen and Thomas out of his house

Friedrich Harding (unlike his wife and Thomas) isn't so convinced of Ellen’s innocence and naivety, and he resents her because of what she represents; not only “sickness”, but mostly female sexuality ("the threat of female sexuality" as a contagious disease), and he doesn't want her near his wife and daughters ("I thought it was agreed you were to keep the girls from her. You mustn’t be swept up in her fairy ways"), and reluctantly accepts this friendship between Anna and Ellen out of respect for Thomas. Friedrich recognizes his own nature in Ellen (“rutting goat”; “always hungry”): “her dashing young husband is leaving her bedside cold” as he jokes with Thomas before his departure. And he tells Ellen himself: “I am most sensitive to your ardent nature”. But he's a man, and she's a woman.

This will culminate with Friedrich blaming Ellen for Anna's sickness and demand Thomas and Ellen to return to their own home, even though he loves them both. Friedrich represents the “Victorian patriarch”, while Anna is the “ideal Victorian woman”, a devoted wife and mother, God-fearing and respectable. Ellen tries to explain to Friedrich that Professor Von Franz is right, it's a demon. But, Friedrich won't have any of that, because he already made up his mind. Ellen spend the night with Anna and, now, she's sick with a "blood plague": the culprit is Ellen's contagion. And he scolds her for her behavior (nature): “Find the dignity to display the respect for your caretaker” and calls her a "social embarrassment" to Thomas by behaving the way she does: “And for your husband’s sake, I pray you might learn how to conduct yourself with more deference".

Ellen thinks both Orlok and Friedrich Harding are wrong about Thomas; he loves her, and, as such, he doesn't see her as "social embarrassment" nor does he rejects her nature. She tells Orlok: "you know nothing of him" and "you are a deceiver"; and, in Ellen's mind, Harding's words are motivated by his hatred of her ("Why do you hate me? You never liked me. Never."). And so, that very night, Ellen is set to prove both Orlok and Harding wrong, and reassure herself that Thomas fully accepts her. And this is the context of Ellen's possession scene, and we'll have parallels to both in the scene itself.

The "Possession scene"

Back at their house, Thomas tells Ellen they must run away and leave town, she's in danger because a "devil" has come to Wisburg for her. And this is when Ellen reveals to Thomas her personal history with Orlok (past lovers), because she trusts Thomas, and knows he will understand: "I know him."

Ellen reveals to him she was the one who unleashed Orlok ("I have brought this evil upon us") because she wanted company and tenderness: "At first it was sweet, I had never known such bliss. Yet it turned to torture, it would kill me. But Thomas, it was you that gave me the courage to be free of my shame – you!" And Thomas is confused, because he doesn't know what she is talking about ("what do you mean by this?"; "what are you telling me?").

“I have never shared my secret with any soul."

And Ellen is herself baffled because Thomas doesn’t understand what she is saying: "Don’t you understand? You cannot understand?" Of course Thomas doesn't understand, because women are suppose to be innocent and naïve, with no knowledge of the world, less alone of sexual matters. And she's talking about "sweetness" and "bliss" in connection to a "devil" who attacked him, violently, and from which he barely escaped alive.

And Ellen tells Thomas that Orlok is the reason why she's medicalized ("melancholy", the diagnose the Victorian doctors gave her), and he's her "shame" ("hysteria") because Victorian women aren't suppose to have sexual desire, and every sexual expression outside of (heterossexual) marriage is seen as evil and sinful. Sex was a marital duty, often seen as a painful task women had to go throught to have children; and women's sexuality was owned and controlled by their husbands. And this is why Orlok is Ellen's "shame", he's not only her repressed sexual desire, her sexuality.

"He is my shame! He is my melancholy!" | "You are my affliction."

And while Thomas is still digesting this information, Ellen takes upon herself to show him her true nature, her mediumship, as she starts her communication with the spiritual realm. Is she even speaking to Orlok here? Or she just connects to the other side to make a point?

"He told me about you. He told me how foolish you were. How fearful. How like a child. How you fell into his arms as a swooning lily of a woman. He told me how you sold me to him for gold. Our love was supposed to be sacred."

"Your husband has signed his name, and covenanted you to my person for but a sack of gold. For gold he did absolve his nuptial bond."

Ellen starts by weaponizing Thomas ambition against him, because she knows he values money (gold): he wishes to climb the social ladder, being “no longer a pauper” who needs to ask his wealthy friend, Friedrich, for money, drowning himself in debt. As he tells Ellen at the beginning of the film, he aspires to buy them “a fine house” of their own (implying the one they live in, is probably rented), with “a maidservant”. Ellen says she’s doesn’t need any of that, all she needs is his love: and, indeed, she married “down”, because Ellen comes from a wealthy family, and we see the contrast between her family house in the prologue (a manor), and the small apartment she shares with Thomas (with old and damaged wallpaper).

Thomas wants to fulfill his "Victorian husband" gender role: marriage was the institution where Victorian men fully accomplished their male responsibility and privilege: to form a household, provide safety and comfort, and exercise authority over dependents (wife and children) where the trademark of a successful man. This was also connected to their social and professional success, making them respectful in the eyes of other men. A man who couldn’t govern his wife was also seen as unfit, socially, professionally and morally.

“You never listen. Well where is it? Your money? Your promotion? Your house? Where is that which is so precious to you? Have you paid back kind Harding your debt? Have you repaid him with this plague that infects his wife? [I left for us, for our future] For what? For what? For these… things?!”

"Hartmann will call you a coach, at my expense – of course."

Thomas wants to be a good Victorian husband, and tells her: "I left for us, for our future. For you!" But Ellen is showing him he's a failure as a "Victorian husband", that he doesn't belong to this society, either, and they are meant for each other. Because she doesn't care about material goods nor being wealthy ("we needn't any of that!"), all that Ellen wants is his love, and to be his greatest treasure, because money doesn't matter, "they are already dead". She doesn't want to be married to a patriarch like Friedrich Harding ("stupid and cruel").

Now, we have to talk about the importance of Ellen's corset to the plot, which was confirmed by costume designer Linda Muir in an interview with "The Art of Costume":

"One example of costume design serving the plot, as you mentioned, is Ellen’s corset. I came across a particular style called a fan-laced corset during my research, which I’ve also referred to as a “self-tying corset”—though it doesn’t actually tie itself! This type of corset can be tightened from the front, allowing the wearer to adjust it independently. For Robert, this design was ideal. When Ellen is in the throes of her supernatural connection with Orlok, the men around her—Sievers and Harding—try to impose control by tightening her corset. Because of the fan-laced design, we can see her anguish and convulsions, as well as the men’s oppressive actions, without needing to obscure her face or body by laying her prone. This moment is a perfect example of how research and storytelling can come together harmoniously in costume to enhance a scene."

Historically, corsets have always been considered an instrument of women’s oppression, so it’s not surprising to see them having the same meaning in “Nosferatu” (2024). Corsets were restrictive devices that rendered women immobile, passive and prone to fainting, and the Feminist movement of the 20th century saw them as “as one of the quintessential Victorian social horrors”. Corsets were also considered a sign of respectability, because they controlled the body, and, by extension, physical passions.

And, indeed, we see Ellen corset consume her, to the point she tries to break free from it during this scene with Thomas, as he begs her to stop it "Ellen, please!"

Ellen is desperate to break free from Victorian society medicalization and expectactions of her. She wants freedom, she wants to be herself in a society which will never accept her, and will always restrain her (metaphorically and literally) not only with drugs and tying her to the bed, but with gender roles of marriage and children. And she shows Thomas her true self, her nature, her mediumship. Because she needs to be sure he accepts her, to prove both Orlok and Harding wrong.

Not knowing how to handle the situation, Thomas does what Victorian society tell him to do: call the doctor to deal with Ellen. "I shall send for Doctor Sievers." A doctor that will contain her with drugs and/or tie her to the bed, who will restrain her nature, and she doesn't want that. And she breaks off her trance. And in this scene we see that Ellen does have control over her trances, as she snaps out of it, at will.

As she ends her communication with the spiritual realm, she kneels before Thomas, in full submission, and promises to be good: "Please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good." She'll be a good Victorian wife to him, and sees the relief on his face. That's the kind of wife he wants, and Harding's words haunt this scene: "Find the dignity to display the respect for your caretaker. And for your husband’s sake, I pray you might learn how to conduct yourself with more deference."

“Please, have pity. I throw myself at your feet. Why can you not hear me? Listen to me, please!"

“No! No! Please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good."

Then, Ellen gives him the final insult of saying "You could never please me as he could", which parallels "Remember how once we were? A moment. Remember?"

However, here, we have two points of view, both focused on Orlok:

Ellen is taunting Thomas to stir him to be passionate, and only sees the wildness of his next action, because that's the kind of passion Ellen desires and craves, and she wants Thomas to prove he can give it to her, and for Orlok to see that love is not inferior to her, after all.

"Let him see. Let him see our love!" | "Love is inferior to you."

"Kiss my heart! My heart!" | "Yet I cannot be sated without you."

But Ellen's pleasure is not what Thomas seeks here, because Victorian women "don't have sexual pleasure". Sex is a marital duty, and the only pleasure here is male, because husbands own their wives' sexuality. Which is why Thomas calls Ellen a "doting wife" at the beginning of the film: in Victorian context this doesn't mean "loving" or "adoring", but "devoted" as in "excessively submissive". Ellen's sexuality isn't hers, it belongs to Thomas, and that's why Thomas thinks of her as "a doting wife": to him, it's not about her having sexual pleasure, it's her fulfilling her role as a Victorian wife of pleasing him. And a scene which parallels the last scene between Ellen and Orlok.

So, when Ellen tells him "you could never please me as he could", he’s interpreting this as Orlok having “defiled" his wife, and he's taking ownership over her, again. Because she's his wife, and she belongs to him, not to Orlok. Her sexuality belongs to him, not to another man, and, surely, not to herself.

But as Ellen grows wild and more animalistic, Thomas recoils from her, terrified. Ellen laughs and says she'll become a demon without him (because husbands control their wives' sexuality, and without a husband Victorian women's sexuality becomes "evil", "sinful", and, yes, "demonic") and she's unclean (because of her sexual cravings, her sickness, her "contagion", and also reference to the "Dracula" novel, and she got kicked out of the Hardings household because of it).

And now, Thomas vows to destroy Orlok, himself: "I’ll kill him! He shall never harm you again. Never!" after Ellen says she must go to Orlok, otherwise he'll kill Thomas, taking away her agency, because she's not asking for his help, she's saying she must go to Orlok.

And until this point, Ellen was possibly consider sacrificing herself (“we can’t leave”) because of Thomas ("it was you who gave me the courage to be free of my shame. You.") and/or because she feels guilt over unleash him to the world ("I have brought this evil upon us"), but that's not what the "compact commands", because "compelled" does not equal "willingly", and Orlok knows this. And this is the scene that changes everything.

Now, Thomas blames Orlok for Ellen's "sickness". Orlok is the true responsable for his wife's "medical condition", not her supernatural gifts. In Thomas mind, she was corrupted by him, and he turned her into a "melancholic hysteric". And it will be all over once Orlok is destroyed, because his wife will be "normal" and a "perfect Victorian wife" to him, then. Thomas didn't understand what Ellen just told and showned him. She revealed to have unleashed Orlok ("I have brought this evil upon us"), that they were lovers and she enjoyed it ("at first it was sweet, I had never known such bliss”), and she displayed her true nature to him, and her desire to be free from her medicalization. Thomas still doesn't and can't understand her, as he plays the role of the "Victorian husband" who can govern his wife.

Which is what Robert Eggers tells us, in one interview: "Ellen’s husband loves her, but he can’t understand these ‘hysteric’ and ‘melancholic’ feelings she’s experiencing, and he’s dismissive of her." And Willem Dafoe says something similar to “Deadline”: “I’ve heard Robert describe it as a triangle between Ellen’s husband, who’s a loving guy, he loves her dearly, and he’s conscientious. He wants to be a good husband, but he doesn’t quite see her, and he doesn’t understand what she’s going through.”

And, as Ellen realizes that Thomas will never accept her true nature, Orlok, through Ellen’s granting him entrance into the Harding household, kills the “perfect Victorian wife” archetype, Anna Harding, and her children; because the roles of wife and mother are deeply intertwined in Victorian society; they are a woman’s destiny. And he also feeds off Friedrich Harding, too, the man Thomas aspires to become.

"There’s a monster in the room! Papa! Papa! Don’t let her feed me to the monster! Stab him! The Monster! The Monster!"

And Ellen realises that Thomas isn't so different from Friedrich Harding. Friedrich is the character Thomas wishes to emulate and become, after all: a successful businessman, with a good and wealthy house, and a devoted and comfortably settled wife, who elevates his social respectability: "I envy you. You’ve truly taken your father’s place now… it’s incredible." Like Harding, Thomas will always medicalize her, as does the rest of Victorian society. She showned him her true nature, her mediumship, and his reaction was to call Dr. Sievers to deal with it, a doctor who will restrain her nature with drugs, corsets and tie her to the bed.

Thomas' love for Ellen is no different from Friedrich Harding's, at its core. And it becomes clear: this "Victorian love" is connected to Ellen's medicalization and the containment of her nature. Every character who "loves" Ellen in this story has the same course of action: dismiss her supernatural gifts as a consequence of her "sickness", and call the doctors to deal with it. They all see her nature, her true self, as a dangerous disease who needs to be stopped. As female sexuality in the Victorian era was seen as a plague and a monstrosity in need of containment, and "the threat of female sexuality" theme from the "Dracula" novel.

Now, Ellen wants to talk to Professor Von Franz, the only (human) character who has shown respect and validation for her nature, and hasn’t medicalized her for it. Not before Friedrich Harding proves, once again, how neither she nor the Professor have a place within Victorian society: “Take that blackguard from this place! Your diseased mind has brought all of this outrage– Your very presence does me wrong!”

He's interrupted by Thomas, who convinces him that Nosferatu exists, and it’s his fault, while he asks for Friedrich’s forgiveness ("Please, it is my fault! Forgive me my dear, sweet friend!”). Driving home the point that Thomas paid no mind to what Ellen told him the previous night, and he does not recognize her supernatural abilities, either. It's all Orlok's fault, and Ellen is an innocent and passive victim at his hands, and everything will be alright once he's destroyed.

#Nosferatu 2024 #robert eggers #Ellen Hutter 2024 #Thomas Hutter 2024 #count orlok 2024 #friedrich harding #anna harding #professor von franz

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katyawriteswhump · 3 days ago

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love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

#omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse steddie #steddie omegaverse #steddie omega cat cafe #rock star eddie munson #steddie au #steddie fluff #slick sunday #steddie

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prlssprfctn · 2 days ago

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Being Robin is an art, in a way. It is hard, and it is always about keeping a balance — being graceful as a cat and yet, hold a power of a lion. Being flashy in all these colourful patterns and, at the same time, completely invisible for enemies.

When Bruce picks up Jason, he thinks he will need some extra training. He doesn't expect Jason, a street kid, to have the same mannerism Dick, the child of the circus, had. And he doesn't - not fully, at least - but the way Jason just... disappears in a way, making himself stealthy and invisible, is incredible. It is natural.

(It is... a talent?)

He is so great that sometimes Alfred and Bruce don't notice him until he wants them to notice him!

'You are good at this, chump,' Bruce compliments him once.

Jason tilts his head, seemingly confused.

'Huh?'

'Enemies never notice you, despite how bright your suit is,' Bruce points out proudly. 'Even I fail to find you in the room sometimes.'

Jason lets out a quiet "a-ah" in realisation and just shrugs.

He is always so humble, this kid.

Red Hood is not exactly humble. He knows his worth. He doesn't fail to remind others of his superior trainings or to mock the weakness of his enemies. But even he refuses to accept this exact compliment.

Why, though? He is tall, bulky — double-fridge, really — and his armour is bright red, and still... and still, people fail to notice his presence most of the time. Isn't it just great?

'Despite how huge you are, you are stealthy enough to match the style of my assassins,' Talia tells him; she is not exactly as beaming as Bruce was, but there is still a hint of respect in her voice. 'It is impressive. Though, I don't appreciate being caught off the guard.'

Jason huffs.

'Yeah, alright. Put a bell on my neck or something — it is not like I am trying to scare you.'

Talia tilts her head but doesn't comment further.

At that moment, Jason fears she knows. She knows exactly why he never accepts these kinds of compliments or where this skill comes from.

'You know, when I first got into Robin suit, Bruce said that he knew someone, who was as good at being invisible on the streets as me,' Stephanie tells him once, when they sit on the coach of the living room, waiting for others to return from the kitchen. 'Never figured out he was talking about you until I saw you scaring the shit out of others by your random appearances.'

Jason hums.

'Crime Alley kids' thing, am I right?' She elbows him, half-amused, half-bitter.

And Jason thinks, yeah. Exactly that.

Because it was never natural for him to take no place in the world — he just taught himself how to. How to make no sound, how not to irritate some men, who gradually got drunker during the day, while passing by the same streets, how to keep himself safe by being an empty space. People can't get angry if they don't see you. They can't kick you out, either.

(He perfected this skill so much that at some point he embraced this emptiness, right after his death. So, maybe it was his fault that Bruce scrapped away everything that was left of him, maybe-)

'Let them think that it is a talent,' he advises, instead.

Whatever makes you look valuable enough, his inner voice adds helpfully. Whatever makes you special to be kept around.

'Yeah. Sounds good to me.'

Jason hasn't lived on the streets for decades now, but he never grew up its habits. He doesn't think he ever will.

And it is... fine.

Because that is just who he is. Who he always was.

#don't ask me why i wrote this i have no answer i am running on massivle sleeping troubles and caffeine--#anyway yeah “taking no place” is a well-known quality that survivors of similiar cases have and i thought we don't talk about it enough #Jason canonically good at stealth and all this crap both as Robin and RH #Bruce realises the origins of this talent later on #He is not stupid but also his emotional awareness sucks and he was in a many ways clueless to Jason and his trauma until he died so #(and some things he didn't get even after he died so)#i am rambling again? YEAH #jason todd #red hood #dcu comics #dc universe #dcu #batman #bruce wayne #stephanie brown

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claramelooo · 21 hours ago

Text

WOVEN FATES (2/???)

SURPRISE!!!

A little of expectations for you.

Enjoy it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: When you hand over the Rio blouse, you discover something that maybe fate has different plans from yours.

Attraction

The sound of the keyboard was the only thing breaking the silence in the small apartment. You were hunched over your laptop, your eyes glued to the screen as you frantically searched.

"How to remove coffee stains from white cotton."

It was the tenth time you tried a different combination of words, and the results weren’t very helpful.

Glancing at the impeccably white shirt that Rio had lent you, you let out a nervous sigh. The light brown stain on the fabric seemed to mock you. Rio probably had dozens of other shirts, but you needed to return this one in perfect condition. It was as if your dignity depended on it.

After following the instructions from a dubious blog, you rushed to the nearest market and bought the most expensive liquid detergent you could find, along with a fabric softener whose advertisement promised to make any fabric as soft as a hug. It cost nearly all the money you had left, but it was worth it.

Hours later, the shirt was clean and smelling of lavender with a sophisticated floral touch. Perfect. Now, you just needed to deliver it.

The address on the card led you to one of the most upscale areas of Los Angeles, where the streets were wide, the buildings gleamed in the sun, and every storefront seemed to belong to another world.

You stopped in front of the art gallery bearing Rio’s name on an elegant sign. The large windows revealed a sophisticated and well-lit interior, where only a few people moved silently, contemplating the works on display.

Upon entering, the air was fresh and imbued with a faint scent of paint and polished wood. The first thing that caught your attention was the monumental pieces scattered throughout the space.

Some sculptures were abstract and imposing, others were paintings that seemed to overflow with emotion. There was a raw, hypnotic energy in those works – some wild, others so deeply personal that you felt a knot form in your throat as you looked at them.

You were so absorbed in the paintings that you almost didn’t notice the woman behind the marble counter, typing on her computer. Her neatly tied hair and thin glasses gave her a professional and serious appearance, and the sound of the keys was the only thing breaking the elegant silence of the environment.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked, without taking her eyes off the screen.

You gripped the paper bag tighter. “I…I need to speak with Rio Vidal.”

This time, she looked up, appraising you for a moment with a neutral expression. “Do you have an appointment?”

You hesitated. “No. But I just need to deliver this”—you lifted the bag slightly in your hand. The woman’s haughty expression made it clear she really didn’t care. “—to her, so… It’s important.”

The woman sighed lightly, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. “Mrs. Vidal, there’s a young woman here to see you. She says she needs to deliver something.”

There was a pause, and then the woman nodded, hanging up shortly after. “She said you should come upstairs.” The bored tone made it clear that this wasn’t exactly what one imagined doing with their life—or was working for Rio really that difficult?

“And don’t touch anything!” Your heart leaped, as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. You hadn’t even noticed that you were staring at the surrounding artworks with an almost childlike fascination.

Nervousness settled in your stomach as you pressed your lips together and proceeded.

Following the instructions, you walked to the second floor of the gallery, where a corridor with glass doors led to the private offices. When you reached the last door, you hesitated for a moment before lightly knocking and pushing it open.

The space was a spacious studio bathed in natural light coming from the huge windows. The smell of paint was stronger there, mixed with a woody hint. Rio was standing with her back turned, working on an unfinished canvas, and even without seeing her face, her presence dominated the room. When she turned around, her sharp gaze met yours, and a small, amused smile played on her lips.

“Oh. Look who came to grace us. Butterfingers.”

Your face immediately heated up. “I–I came to bring your blouse.” You carefully extended the paper bag, the fabric neatly folded and still perfumed with the expensive softener. “And again, I’m sorry.”

Rio got up with the ease of someone completely in control. She walked over to you, taking the bag with an almost lazy gesture, yet her eyes remained fixed on yours. When she pulled the shirt from inside the bag, one eyebrow arched, noticing the subtle scent that permeated the fabric.

“Lavender?” Her tone carried something indecipherable, a touch of provocation mixed with discreet interest.

You nodded, unsure of what to say. Rio held the shirt between her fingers, examining it for a moment before carefully folding it over the back of a chair.

She took the bag slowly, her eyes still fixed on you. Her smile seemed to analyze, to calculate. “You are so thoughtful, aren’t you?”

You felt your cheeks warm, too shy to admit that it felt like a ritual of personal redemption.

She let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Thank you, my dear.”

Then, she set the bag aside as if she had no hurry to take it, and took a step toward you.

“You did a good job.” The proximity between you had grown closer now. “And since you’re here…” Her eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. “What did you think of my works?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the question. You were still trying to catch your breath after walking through the gallery. Each piece seemed to have a life of its own, drawing you into a world of intense shapes, striking textures, and meticulously planned chaos.

Some works were monumental, dominating the room with an overwhelming presence. Others, smaller paintings, carried an emotional depth that you didn’t know how to process.

“They’re… impressive,” you answered hesitantly.

Rio tilted her head slightly, a playful smile on her lips. “Impressive? Is that all?”

You bit your lower lip, feeling her gaze burn into your skin. “I… I really liked that one over there.” You pointed to a painting with dark tones, where violent brushstrokes mixed with almost delicate details.

It was a canvas loaded with shadows and contrasts. A blend of obscurity and a desire hidden somewhere in the depths of the subconscious. Violent brushstrokes clashed in disorder, yet amidst the chaos, there was something almost delicate—subtleties concealed in the details, like secrets buried beneath layers of paint.

Green and brown intertwined as if linking past and present, life and decay, rebirth and oblivion. The green of persistence, of hope, suffocated by the earthy, solid, and inevitable brown. A silent struggle between promise and ruin.

Rio walked up to the painting, fingers gliding along the frame. "Curious. This piece is about desire." Her voice dropped slightly, as if confessing a secret. "The line between control and surrender."

Your stomach twisted at the way she said that, her gaze locking onto yours with calculated interest.

"And this one?" Rio gestured toward a nearby sculpture—a woman with an expression of pain, her form entangled in shapes that grasped and pulled her downward, tense, as if trapped in an eternal dilemma.

You hesitated. "The woman looks... restless."

"Exactly." Rio smirked slightly, as if satisfied with your response. "It’s about the moment before surrender. The hesitation before the inevitable." She stepped closer to you, her eyes fixed on your face. "I like that phase. When everything is just... anticipation."

Your breath hitched. There was something in the way Rio spoke—not just about art, but about you, about the situation unfolding between you two. The tension was almost palpable. Your fingers brushed lightly as you tried to look away, but she didn’t pull back.

And then, the gallery door opened. The sound of heels echoed through the space, a floral perfume mixing with the scent of paint and varnish.

"What a charming scene."

The voice came from behind you, husky and laced with irony. You turned around only to find a woman standing at the entrance, dressed in a flawless dark overcoat, her gaze sharp enough to be impossible to ignore.

Agatha Harkness.

Her eyes slowly swept over you before settling on Rio, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

"I hope I’m not interrupting anything... intimate."

You instinctively turned back, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you recognized her. "P–Professor Harkness?" you stammered, your voice almost failing from the shock.

Agatha Harkness, with her dark hair impeccably styled and wrapped in a perfectly tailored purple suit, seemed even more imposing outside the classroom. Her eyes—blue and gleaming like ice under the sun—moved from you to Rio, lingering just a second too long on your hands, still close. There was something in that gaze, something that felt like much more than mere curiosity.

"Yes… and what exactly are you doing here with my wife?" The tone was sharp, but carried a veiled amusement, as if Agatha found the scene before her quite entertaining.

The word echoed in your mind like a distant chime, and your stomach dropped. Suddenly, the closeness between you and Rio, the way she looked at you, the condescending way she laughed at your reactions... everything took on a new meaning.

The tension in the room became tangible. It was as if the two women were engaged in a silent conversation, their gazes exchanging meanings far beyond your understanding.

You watched, shrinking into yourself, feeling like an intruder in a moment that seemed private—yet you couldn’t look away. The magnetism between them was undeniable, almost hypnotizing. They are the most beautiful couple I’ve ever seen, you thought, unable to stop yourself.

Rio was the first to break the silence that hung like a storm about to break. Her expression was serious, but there was a glint in her brown eyes that betrayed her usual control. "She just came to return my shirt, my love." Her tone was careless, almost lazy, as if deliberately ignoring the rising tension.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, her smile slightly sarcastic. "Ah, so you..." She tilted her head slightly, glancing sideways at Rio before fixing her gaze on you once more. "Are the one responsible for the coffee stain that ruined her favorite shirt? What a... twist."

You opened your mouth to explain, but Rio interrupted you with an irritatingly superior calm. "It was an accident. It's already taken care of." Her tone was indulgent, as if she were defending a childish mistake. As if you were exactly what she loved making you feel—small, fragile.

Agatha's eyes gleamed with something unreadable, and a soft clicking sound escaped when she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Interesting."

And in that silent exchange between them, everything became clear: Agatha was not just the feared mentor of your course. She was Rio’s wife. And in that moment, the world seemed to shrink around you.

You realized you had stepped right into the center of something much bigger—something you weren’t sure you could even begin to comprehend.

As silence settled once more, Agatha took a step forward, leaning slightly toward you. "Well, gem, I do hope your disastrous talents are compensated for later, huh? After all, you’re supposed to impress me today, aren’t you?"

You swallowed hard, feeling heat rise through your body. Between the magnetism of Rio’s presence and the overwhelming allure of Agatha, you were completely trapped. And the worst—or best—part was that deep down, you didn’t want to escape.

You cleared your throat, trying to recover some semblance of dignity. "I—I should go. My shift starts in just a few minutes. Sorry again for the shirt, Mrs. Vidal." Your voice trembled, but you tried to sound firm, giving a nearly mechanical nod before hurrying out of the room, feeling Rio and Agatha’s gazes burning into your back. "And see you later, Professor Harkness."

Your heart was still pounding wildly as you left the art gallery, nearly stumbling onto the sidewalk. You tried not to think about the magnetism of those two women—the way their gazes seemed to pierce through you, the tension that pulsed between them.

But it was impossible.

Arriving at work, the chaos was evident before you even crossed the door. The sound of cups clinking, the endless hum of conversations, and the coffee machine steaming away created an uncomfortably familiar backdrop. Behind the counter, America stared at you with a look that mixed irritation and relief.

"Finally!" she muttered, throwing her hands up. "It's hell in here, and we haven't even made it past the first hour. And just so you know, the boss is watching. Better not screw things up again today."

You simply nodded, feeling the weight of her words like a brick on your chest. Since the coffee incident, you had been relegated to the counter, away from the customers. Making drinks was the most you could do now.

Trying to ignore her judging gaze, you adjusted your apron and began working. Cappuccino, latte, black coffee – it was almost automatic. Everything seemed reasonably under control until America came back, her face contorted with even more irritation.

"Hey," she said, pulling you by the arm. "That woman is here again. And guess what? She specifically asked for you to serve her."

You froze. "Rio?"

"The one and only. Soon, the boss is going to overcharge for these famous people," America crossed her arms, lowering her voice. "Does she always seem so grumpy? Seriously, the kind of person you look at and already feel like you've done something wrong."

You followed her gaze to a discreet corner of the room. There she was. Rio Vidal.

The immaculate blazer, dark hair falling over her shoulders with calculated carelessness, and that gaze... the kind of look that seemed to observe and judge everything at once, as if the world around her was just a minor detail. Even sitting down, there was something about her that exuded a commanding presence, something that made the room subtly bow to her will.

Rio Vidal was not just an artist – she was an icon. Critics called her "an eccentric genius," "an untamable mind," "a storm in the shape of a woman." Her exhibitions were exclusive events, her paintings fought over by collectors who paid fortunes for a single piece.

Her temperament, however, was almost as famous as her art. There were stories... so many stories. Assistants who quit in the first month, gallery owners who avoided direct contact, journalists who preferred to interview Agatha rather than deal with Rio's unpredictable mood.

And now, that same woman was here. Waiting for you.

America snapped her fingers in front of your face. "Earth to you. You're not going to make that panic face when you get over there, are you?"

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nervousness. "I'm not panicking."

She raised an eyebrow.

You exhaled slowly.

"Maybe a little."

Reaching the table, you tried to keep your posture, even though your heart was racing. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Vidal. It's a pleasure to see you here again. How can I assist you today?"

Rio lifted her eyes from the menu, the same penetrating gaze from before locking onto you. "I thought it would be fair to give you a chance at redemption," she said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You owe me a coffee, after all."

You swallowed hard, trying not to show how disarmed her words made you. "Of course, Mrs. Vidal. What would you like?"

She tilted her head slightly, as if studying you. "Surprise me."

Just like that. Without even looking at the menu, without giving any hints. Just the order hanging in the air, a challenge disguised as indifference.

Back at the counter, you focused on the drink, choosing the ingredients as if they were brushstrokes on a canvas. Caramel cappuccino. Sweet, but with a robust undertone, balanced. Like her? No, of course not. But... maybe.

As you prepared the cup with more care than ever, you felt her gaze burning into your back. Rio was watching, silent, her presence as heavy as spilled paint on a blank canvas.

When you returned to the table with the carefully prepared coffee, Rio took the cup but, instead of drinking immediately, spoke in a casual tone:

"Did you know my wife is curious about you?"

The words hit you like lightning. "Professor Harkness?" you asked, almost without thinking.

Rio smiled, but there was something calculated in her expression. "Yes. She mentioned you have... potential. Both in film and in causing trouble."

You didn’t know if it was a compliment or a provocation, but before you could answer, Rio finally took the cup to her lips. After a sip, she nodded, approving.

"How did you know caramel cappuccino was mine?" she asked, sipping a bit more of the sweet drink.

"Excuse me?" you asked, confused.

"Yesterday. I ordered caramel cappuccino and black coffee for Agatha. And today, you bring me a sweet drink. How did you know it was for me?" she asked, intrigued.

You blinked, feeling your heart tighten. You hadn't thought too much about it; you just followed your intuition when preparing the caramel cappuccino, as if you somehow knew it suited her. But now, under Rio's sharp gaze, the question seemed much more laden with meaning.

"I... I don’t know," you replied honestly, your voice low. "I just thought it suited you."

Rio raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It suits me, does it?"

You immediately blushed, the words slipping out before you could control them. "I mean, uh... the cappuccino is... refined, but sweet. I just thought maybe it was something you’d like."

She tilted her head, her eyes dancing between amusement and curiosity. "Interesting."

The silence that followed was heavy, but somehow comfortable. You felt like Rio was watching you in a different way, as if she were trying to decipher something you didn’t even understand. Finally, she placed the cup on the table, crossing her arms over the wooden surface.

"You are really... rare, aren't you, little gem?" she said, leaning her body toward you, suddenly very interested in occupying the same air as you.

The nickname fell from Rio's mouth like a drop of poisoned honey, soft but loaded with something more. Your stomach twisted, and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, bursting into a blush you couldn’t hide.

The words echoed, hitting you hard. Not just for the sound, but for the implication – the way she leaned her body, as if she wanted to wrap you in an invisible web.

"It’s an interesting nickname, but I really don’t understand," you said, your voice faltering slightly, gripping the cleaning cloth tightly, trying to keep your hands busy. "Professor Harkness calls me exactly that."

"Oh, I know," Rio replied, her eyes shining with something that seemed dangerous, but fascinating. "A rare, rough gem that needs to be shaped. Sounds exactly like you."

The air between you seemed heavier with each passing second. The silence wasn’t empty—it was filled with something you couldn’t define, but it made your breath feel too loud. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way; you were sure that Rio wasn’t trying to do anything malicious.

But then, why were her eyes so intense? Why did it seem like she wanted to tear away each of your secrets?

Before you could respond, the unmistakable sound of your boss’s voice sliced through the moment like a dull blade. “Ah, Ms. Vidal. Is she bothering you? I’ve told this girl not to get into trouble again...”

The coldness in your spine was immediate, but it didn’t last long. Rio’s sharp laugh pierced the air. Low, almost indulgent, but full of pure disdain. She straightened in her chair, lazily resting an arm over the backrest, like a queen on her throne watching a foolish subject.

“Tell me, do you always speak to your employees this way, or do you save that condescending tone just for women?” Her voice was sharp velvet, and the look she shot the man was enough to make him hesitate.

“I was just... commenting on yesterday’s incident,” he tried to fix, discomfort showing in his fake smile. “You know, with the coffee...”

“Ah, yes.” Rio interrupted, standing with rehearsed calm, her presence dominating the space as if she had always belonged there. “An incident that has already been resolved. And if I remember correctly, I was very clear: this girl,” she gestured vaguely toward you, “should not suffer any kind of reprisal.”

The air grew heavy. Your boss opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t find the words that could save him from Rio’s predator-like stare.

“C-Certainly, Ms. Vidal,” he conceded, averting his eyes like a cornered dog. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“It is now,” Rio declared, already bored with his existence. She slid her wallet out of her coat pocket, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and placed it on the counter without even looking at it. Folded with precision, as if every detail were part of a game only she knew.

“For her.” The command came soft, but undeniable.

And then, as if the man no longer existed, Rio turned her gaze back to you. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink until it fit inside the brown of her eyes.

“See you later, little gem,” she murmured, her voice slow, delicious, soaked in that almost lazy tone that made your skin tingle.

Before you could even catch your breath, Rio walked out of the cafe with the same lethal calm as always. The woody scent of her perfume lingered in the air, just like the shiver that ran down your spine—and the unsettling feeling that the game was only just beginning.

[...]

As you crossed the building’s doors, the opulence of the environment seemed to swallow any remnants of confidence you had brought with you. The façade reflected more than your image—it projected your insecurity before the magnitude of the world you had just entered.

This wasn’t just Agatha Harkness’s territory; it was her domain, a space that vibrated with her invisible but overwhelming authority. You were a misplaced piece here, and every step you took seemed to echo that reminder.

The interior was even more intimidating. The wide corridors, lined with black-and-white photos of legendary cinematic moments, and the glass doors revealing immaculate offices, exuded professionalism.

However, it was the dense silence, interrupted only by hurried whispers, that made it impossible to ignore the weight of Agatha’s influence. Her subordinates moved like gears in a perfectly adjusted machine, but every furtive glance they cast toward her office door revealed something else: fear.

When you entered the production room, the tension was almost tangible. The environment buzzed with the energy of busy professionals, but for a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze.

Subtle glances were raised only to assess your presence—there was no curiosity, only a cold, impersonal evaluation, as if they were deciding right then and there whether you belonged in that space.

“This is our new intern,” one of the subordinates announced, his voice carefully neutral. But the hesitation, though minimal, betrayed his discomfort.

Agatha didn’t need to raise her eyes for her presence to dominate the room. Sitting behind the desk, she seemed part of the very scenery—motionless, but in a way that suggested she could take control of everything at any moment. The space around her was too small for the grandeur she exuded.

Her long fingers held a script, which she leafed through with a genuine-seeming interest, though you knew it was just a game. Every gesture was calculated, a veiled display of power. Her silence was a warning.

Then, almost as a whim, Agatha raised her eyes.

The impact was immediate. Her gaze didn’t linger, but in an instant, it pierced you like a cold blade. There was no apparent emotion, only a meticulous examination—impersonal, surgical. You knew you were being analyzed, but you didn’t know what she was looking for. Just enough to understand that she had already made a decision.

And then, without a word, she turned her gaze away.

The ice in your chest spread as Agatha returned to her reading, dismissing your presence as if it were irrelevant. There was no need for orders or threats. Her indifference was the message.

The others returned to work as if nothing had happened. But, from time to time, someone would glance in your direction, almost as a silent reminder: don’t expect anything from her.

Your heart raced, and a feeling of discomfort enveloped you. Feeling invisible in front of her was harder than you’d imagined. Every subordinate who came to explain the procedures seemed to try their best to be as polite as possible, but the furtive glances they exchanged told everything: don’t mess with her, don’t question her, she doesn’t like that.

The tension in the air was suffocating, but also magnetic. Even being ignored, you couldn’t escape her presence. It was as if Agatha was in every corner of the room, shaping everyone’s behavior without needing a single word. Her silence was as eloquent as a direct order, and you realized that, even without looking at you, she was fully aware of your presence.

Suddenly, her voice cut through the silence, low but full of authority.

“I expect excellence. And I have no patience for those who don’t measure up.” Her voice was like a steel thread, elegant but sharp.

“This script should not have made it to my desk in this state.” She raised her eyes again, but not to you—as if you weren’t worthy of that privilege. “Correct it by tomorrow. And please, spare me any more wasted time.”

The room fell into complete silence, the air heavy with tension. Everyone seemed used to this type of order, but the pressure was palpable. Each person quickly returned to work, and you, almost breathless, tried to settle in and understand what was happening.

Agatha was a woman who didn’t waste time, and her team knew that.

It was as if, despite being there, you weren’t really noticed. Agatha, the woman who had made you so nervous during your first meeting, was now completely ignoring your existence. Which left you with a strange feeling. Was she mad about what happened with Rio earlier? Or was this just her way of working?

Throughout the rest of the day, you followed the instructions, trying to focus on the work and the small responsibilities given to you, but your mind couldn’t stop returning to Agatha.

How could she be so distant and, at the same time, so fascinating? The way she kept control, how her presence filled the room effortlessly, was something you had only seen in movies.

You approached, introduced almost automatically, like just another piece in the puzzle. Agatha didn’t deign to look at you more than once, not even when her subordinate introduced you. Her eyes were fixed on papers, uninterested in what you had to offer.

You, in turn, stood there, trying to absorb every bit of information, but the feeling of invisibility was almost suffocating.

You felt humiliation wash over you, but what bothered you the most was how Agatha seemed to put so much effort into ignoring you. As if your presence was an inconvenience, something she simply didn’t want to deal with.

Your body tensed, but you held your posture, forcing your mind to focus on the task at hand. But the question lingered: Why was she treating you this way?

You worked alongside Yelena, helping build the script. The clock ticked slowly, but for her, time seemed to move differently — without hurry, without hesitation, as if she already knew exactly what needed to be done.

Yelena was young like you, but that was where the similarities ended. She had a firm, secure posture that exuded a kind of confidence you didn’t know how to reach. Where you hesitated, she acted. Where you doubted, she asserted. It wasn’t arrogance, it was conviction.

And Agatha saw her.

The director never needed to ask Yelena for anything twice. She didn’t even need to ask. It was as if there was silent communication between them, a tacit understanding that made everything easier. While you tried to prove your worth with every task, Yelena was already an essential piece in that machine.

You wanted to be seen that way.

"Hey, you still here?" Yelena’s voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at the woman in a constant daydream.

"Sorry," you murmured, returning to your work.

She chuckled softly, not cruelly, but with a familiarity that made your chest tighten. "Relax. I know what it’s like to want her approval."

You froze for a second.

Yelena sighed, leaning against the table. "Everyone wants to be seen by her. But she doesn’t see just anyone."

The words stayed with you long after work was over.

When you finally said goodbye to the team, the sense of relief was immediate. It was already getting dark, and you walked to the bus stop, trying to process everything you had experienced that day.

But as you passed by the street, something made you stop. The sound of a powerful engine made your body tense automatically. A black Audi A5 parked next to the bus stop. You felt a wave of tension pass through your body, your heart beating faster.

The car window rolled down, revealing Agatha, who was there, as if she had appeared out of nowhere. The way her blue eyes fixed on you was as if she were watching every inch of your soul, as if she were trying to understand what made you different.

"You’re going to wait for the bus here until when, dear?" Agatha asked with the same coldness, but there was something in her tone that made you hesitate. She didn’t seem like she wanted to leave anytime soon.

You looked at her, surprised. The woman of undeniable power was inviting you to something that didn’t seem like just politeness. "I... I’m waiting for the bus, but..."

Before you could finish the sentence, Agatha interrupted with an impatient gesture, her expression still calculated. "Don’t tell me the obvious. Don’t make me repeat myself. Get in the car."

You hesitated for a second, but the invitation was direct, and, as strange as it was, something in the way she spoke made you give in. You got into the car, and the silence between you two stretched until the vehicle started moving.

The smell of leather and the elegant environment of the car enveloped you in an uncomfortably intimidating way. The luxurious interior of the Audi seemed designed to constantly remind you that you didn’t belong there, but at the same time, there was something hypnotizing in Agatha’s presence.

She was so close, but at the same time, so distant, like an unrelenting observer, examining each of your movements. The car’s engine moved smoothly through the streets, but the tension growing between you two made time seem denser, slower.

"Then guide me..." Agatha said, her voice soft, but with an authority that left no room for contestation.

You swallowed hard, the nervousness taking over your body as you recited your address, trying to maintain composure. "You shouldn’t be doing this... You’ll get home late," you said with hesitant concern, as if you were somehow looking out for her.

She scoffed, clearly amused by your audacity, but not letting it show. As much as your posture screamed submission, you couldn’t hide the nervous tremor in your voice, as if simply speaking to her was a challenge to your own sanity.

"And who do you think you are to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?" Agatha’s tone was low but full of authority that made you shrink.

Her blue eyes, so clear and imposing, gleamed dangerously as they fixed on you.

You choked on your words, but insisted, trying to keep some thread of reasoning. "I-I didn’t mean that... I— I’m just worried about your safety. And Mrs. Vidal... won’t like you getting home so late." You pointed out, as if it were obvious, as if you had found a way to justify your questioning.

Agatha leaned slightly forward, a playful expression dancing on her lips. "Oh. So this is about my wife, little gem?" She whispered, as if she had caught a child eating dessert before dinner. The movement of her body closer to you made your stomach tighten, and the feeling of heat in your belly intensified.

"N-no! That’s not..." You tried to correct, but were interrupted by her response.

And then, for the first time, you heard Agatha laugh. It wasn’t just any laugh; it was a rich, deep laugh, full of a somber strength, but at the same time, wonderfully captivating. It was almost as if she knew exactly the effect she had on you, as if she were laughing at a game you still didn’t fully understand.

"Don’t worry. Rio is organizing a charity event for the gallery. I’ll be alone for the next few hours," she said, her voice softer now, but the tension between you two continued to grow with every word.

The heat in your body didn't subside. You could feel the way the car moved through the streets, but all you could perceive was Agatha. She was in control, not just of the car but of everything around her—and worse, it seemed like she was in control of you too, though you didn’t understand why.

You gripped the leather beneath you, trying to focus, but you couldn’t escape the intensity radiating from her. It was as if, somehow, she knew what was happening inside you, and at the same time, had the power to make you crave more.

The car slowed smoothly as Agatha parked in front of the building where you lived. The engine’s roar ceased, leaving only the distant sound of the city in the background.

You fidgeted nervously with your hands, unsure whether to thank her, leave, or say something to break the silence, which seemed heavier than ever.

Before you could take any action, Agatha leaned slightly against the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the plain, unremarkable entrance of the building. “Do you and your boyfriend live here?”

The question came in a casual tone, but her gaze, intense as always, was far from indifferent. Your body reacted immediately, a strange heat rising to your face.

It was impossible to tell if she was genuinely curious or just testing you in some way you didn’t yet understand.

“I don’t like them. Men, I mean,” you replied without thinking, trying to sound indifferent, but the almost imperceptible tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Agatha turned her face toward you slowly and deliberately, as if savoring every word she'd just heard. Her blue eyes shone with an intensity that made you feel as though the air inside the car had become thinner.

“Ah,” she murmured, almost as if processing the information, but the way the word escaped her lips suggested something more. She didn’t seem surprised or judgmental—just dangerously intrigued. “I see.”

The silence that followed was overwhelming. You could feel the weight of her gaze on you, as if she could see through your skin, through your soul. You tried to look away, but her proximity, the scent of her perfume mingling with the leather of the car, all conspired to make you even more nervous.

“So, what do you like, then?” Agatha finally asked, her voice softer now, almost a whisper, but laden with a curiosity that didn’t seem rhetorical.

Your heart raced, and your throat felt dry. “I... I like women who are...” The words escaped before you could fully form them, and the way she looked at you, that half-smile on her lips, didn’t help.

“Women who are...?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow. There was something in her tone that made it sound more like a tease than a question.

“Powerful,” you completed, almost choking on the word, feeling your face burn. It was true, but it felt like a pathetically ridiculous answer at that moment.

Agatha tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into an enigmatic smile. “Power. How interesting.” Her tone was almost mocking, yet still soft, as if she were playing with something only she understood.

You knew you should leave, end the conversation, but something about her kept you there. It was the gaze, the way she seemed to control the environment effortlessly, as if she was fully aware of what she was doing to you.

“I…” You began hesitantly, and cursed yourself for starting. “—did I impress you today?” And then you let it slip, completely trapped by the atmosphere.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening, but without losing that air of mystery. “Impress?” She repeated, as if savoring the word. “Maybe you should try a little harder, little gem.”

The nickname came like a sharp knife, slicing through the air and leaving you breathless. You felt the heat rise to your neck, but couldn’t look away. There was something in the way she spoke, something that held you, that made you want to prove you could impress her, that you could be worthy of her attention.

“I will,” you replied, your voice firmer than you expected, but still laced with a vulnerability you couldn’t hide.

Agatha didn’t hesitate. “Good girl,” she said, her voice soft, yet filled with approval. There was something in that compliment that made you feel small and, at the same time, powerful, as if she had placed a key in your hands but hadn’t yet told you which door to open.

She leaned in a little closer, and you could smell her—jasmine and something deeper, something that made you feel dizzy. Her blue eyes seemed to pierce your soul, as if reading every thought, every desire you could barely articulate.

“You have potential,” she continued, her voice low, almost a whisper. “But potential is nothing without direction. Without... control.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you couldn’t move. Agatha was so close now that you could feel the heat of her body, and it only made the confusion of emotions inside you grow stronger.

“And what do you want me to do?” you asked, your voice trembling, but full of a courage you didn’t know you had.

Agatha smiled, her lips curving into an expression that was both gentle and perverse, as if she knew a truth but wouldn’t share it. “You’d better get inside before it gets too late. I don’t want to be responsible for... unwanted events tomorrow.”

There was an unspoken weight in her choice of words, something that sent a chill down your spine. You swallowed hard, muttering a hasty thank you before opening the car door.

As you stepped out, you could still feel her eyes on you. When you closed the door and began walking toward the building, the sound of the Audi’s engine roared to life again. But instead of speeding off, the car stayed there for a few more seconds, as if she was making sure you got inside safely—or maybe something more.

As you crossed the building’s door, the tension still weighed on your shoulders, but now there was something else, something you couldn’t name, but you knew it wouldn’t leave you alone anytime soon.

You sighed heavily once you locked the door behind you. Lucky came up to greet you with a sleepy meow, rubbing against your legs as if it knew exactly what kind of day you’d had.

“Hey, my baby,” you murmured, bending down to pet its head. “Today was... intense.” You shook your head, took off your shoes, and went straight to the sofa. “And by intense, I mean absolutely exhausting and confusing.”

Lucky meowed in response, jumping up beside you as you let out a short laugh. "You're the only one in my life who doesn't complicate things. You know that, don't you?" He purred in reply, and you sighed again before getting up and heading to the bedroom.

After changing and turning off the lights, you lay down in bed, trying to finally relax. But as soon as you closed your eyes, your mind began to wander, as it always did.

First came Rio's subtle gaze, the way she watched you, as if trying to unravel every layer of you. The deep timbre of her voice echoed in your head, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if those words were closer, more intimate.

And then... Agatha. The memory of her behind the wheel, her hands with their prominent blue veins gripping the steering wheel, the way her eyes seemed to pierce your soul effortlessly.

Her scent invaded your memory. You turned over in bed, trying to push these thoughts away, but they only seemed to grow, spreading like an uncontrollable fire. The heat in your belly built unbearably. The pressure was almost palpable, and you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep like this.

Your breathing grew faster, uneven, as your mind flooded with images of Rio and Agatha. They were there, so vivid in your memory that you could almost smell their perfumes—Rio's sweet warmth and Agatha's hypnotic sophistication.

The thought of them being older, experienced, old enough to be your mothers, made your stomach twist in a mix of nervousness and desire.

There was something wrong about this kind of fascination, something that should have repelled you. But instead, it only made everything even more magnetic, more forbidden. The age difference, the contrast between their lives and the power they exuded, made the heat in your belly intensify.

"Fuck me!" you exclaimed, moaning desperately as your hands slid under the blanket. Your fingers found the wet heat between your legs, and you didn't hesitate.

The initial touch was light, just the tips of your fingers sliding over your clit, already swollen and sensitive. You arched your back, a low moan escaping your lips.

Now the movements were frantic, almost torturous, as you explored the growing sensation. Your body reacted on its own, your thighs instinctively tightening as you gave in to the desire burning inside you.

Your mind alternated between the two: Rio, with that provocative smile and piercing gaze, and Agatha, with her low, cutting voice, so full of authority. Both were women who could easily teach you everything you didn't yet know, and that excited you more than it should.

As your mind grew hazy with the approach of orgasm, your subconscious took over, setting your body ablaze with immoral thoughts.

But now it was too late.

You were already falling.

They were no longer just the most important women in Hollywood—they were archetypes. Figures carved from a need you didn’t dare name. Agatha, with her ever-sarcastic laugh and cold eyes, was the mother who set boundaries, who said “no” with a razor-sharp smile. Rio, with her tattoos and raspy laugh, was the mother who spoiled you, who let you eat dessert before dinner just to see you smile. Together, they filled every gap life had carved into you.

A slip of fingers over your skin, trying to mimic the touch you imagined Agatha would have—firm, calculated, intentional. But soon your mind betrayed you, replacing her with Rio, whose hands were warm and impatient, as if they knew exactly where you needed it most. Your body responded before reason could intervene, a moan escaping your lips as your hips pressed into the mattress, seeking relief.

“Little gem,” Agatha’s voice echoed in your mind, as if she were there in the dark, watching. “Do you think this is enough?”

You bit your lip, your fingers moving faster, trying to prove that it was. But it was useless. The image of Rio appeared then, laughing softly, as she always did when you tried to be too strong.

"Mommies..."

Your clit was swollen, sensitive, begging for more, and it pulsed even harder at the word with M. Your hands moved faster, the motions growing more intense, until everything culminated in a moment of pure release.

"Let me help, sweetie," her voice whispered, and you imagined her fingers replacing yours—wider, rougher, better.

It was a dangerous game. The more you tried to focus on one, the more the other intruded. Agatha pulling your hair back, ordering you to "behave," while Rio whispered that "making a mess" was allowed too. Your hand was now drenched, the movements so fast they hurt, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop.

"Mama will take care of you," Rio murmured in your imaginary ear, and you let out a whine, your legs shaking.

"Naugthy girl," Agatha reprimanded, but there was pride in her voice, as if she were happy you were letting yourself go.

"This is getting out of control," you whispered, your voice low and shaky. But even as the satisfaction still pulsed through your body, the desire for those women—so different and so powerful—continued to echo in your mind, impossible to ignore.

You're not good for me

But baby, I want you

I want you

Rio and Agatha. Two women so different, yet somehow they had pulled you into their orbit. It was as if both had drawn you into the eye of a storm, leaving you ungrounded.

Rio, with her magnetic charisma, had a warmth that was almost unbearably enveloping. Agatha, on the other hand, was the opposite—cold, cutting, but equally irresistible. And both were unattainable, older, married... so far removed from anything you could even imagine for yourself.

You're not good for me

But baby, I want you

I want you

You turned over in bed, hugging the pillow as if it could bring you some sense of comfort. But even that didn't help. The memory of their gazes continued to haunt you.

Rio's playful eyes seemed to fix on you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. And Agatha, always analyzing, always a step ahead, made you feel small and, at the same time, desperate to be seen.

"Why is this happening to me?" you murmured to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then you understood: it wasn’t just pleasure. It was a ritual.

Every touch was a way of rewriting history—Agatha teaching you how to be loved with discipline, Rio showing you how to be loved with excess. And you, caught in between, were the child who never knew what that meant, now intoxicated by both.

But even in that liberation, there was pain. Because deep down, you knew they weren’t really there. They never would be. They were just projections of a mind that, even at your age, still hoped someone would finally say, “I see you.”

You're not good for me

But baby, I want you

I want you

~*~

Mommies will teach you...

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amxrany · 2 days ago

Text

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Ok I didn't expect Ace's Dream to end up this way, so now I have to tell you guys about it too:

The gang lands in a beach and Cater's having fun with Silver's UM, even taking a video but needing music as an overlay because of Grim's screams 😭. It's quite hot and Sebek asks if we're in Ace's hometown, that's when Deuce replies that Ace lives near the capital of Queendom of Roses while he lives in the southern area.

We also learn more about Cater and Idia as we're exploring the area. Other than skateboarding, Cater also likes to surf and snowboard. Idia tries to talk smack but Ortho butts in by telling the group that he's just like Cater as he rode a vehicle called a "Barca" to race around Island of Woe (and apparently you need a broomstick license and a special vehicle license to handle one).

We reach a vacation house where we find Ace, who's happy to see Deuce, Cater, Yuu and Grim, but is surprised to see the others (Leona, Idia, Silver and Sebek)

We also see Riddle in this dream, who's all decked out in vacation wear (from the Stitch event) that even Cater's surprised. But Dream! Riddle simply wanted to dress the part and even pulled Cater aside for a bit to asked if he looked weird. Sebek thinks that there's no way Riddle would wear something like that irl and that's just Ace's personlaity showing while Silver doesn't see anything wrong as Riddle said this is what people on the beach.

Trey also shows up wearing the Silk City outfit. It turns out that Trey's clothes, the house, and island they're all currently in were lended to them by Kalim's family. Dream! Trey asks Cater why he's in his dorm uniform when he was wearing something different earlier while taking pictures. Cater plays along by saying that he didn't want to get them dirty while cooking, which Dream! Trey believed.

Ace asks us if we want to change our clothes because our dorm uniform looks really stuffy with the weather right now. Leona warns Yuu to not get carried away. We find out that Ace's dream is a celebration for Yuu...because they found a way back to their world. Riddle explains further that not only has Crowley found a way to return Yuu to their world, but he also found a way for Yuu to visit Twisted Wonderland anytime they want to. Stop I'm not okay it's the way that Ace's dream is just wanting people to continue on with their studies safely and Yuu gets to go back home and visit them anytime is just 😭💔

Dream! Riddle suggests that Deuce and the others should go change to more fitting clothes for this occasion. While Cater volunteers with Idia, Leona and Silver to help Trey with the cooking, but really he just uses it as an excuse to discuss what he has observed. He tells Leona about the plan to look out for Ace as Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey are most likely darkness, and Leona's impressed with how fast he's catching up with the dream mechanics. Even Idia finds it a bit creepy.

But Cater's already used to making the first move to avoid conflict. His plan was to use the first years as they're the only ones who are closer to Ace, meaning that they have a better chance of cracking him while the others keep the NPCs distracted. While the seniors are helping the NPCs, the freshmen are trying to brew up a plan. Ortho brings up the clue having needing a big "shock" from reality, but Sebek said he's useless here since he only meets Ace in electives and let's the main gang handle it.

Deuce goes first, telling Ace that this is all just a dream created by Malleus and that they still haven't found a way for Yuu to go home. He also brings up that we still haven't contacted Mickey yet, Ace doesn't believe them but Deuce (with Grim this time) continue to push him further; this causes him (Ace) to start to disorient. Deuce tells Ace to calm down but he thinks they're just lying but Ortho vouches for them and tells him that they're not. It even goes to the point of Ace asking Yuu if what they're saying is true.

Grim latches himself onto Ace, repeatedly screaming that they're not lying; triggering another flashback. But Ace just chews us out for taking the joke too far, and that we shouldn't ruin the vibes of the vacation. That's when Sebek butts in, calling Ace shallow for ignoring the pleas of his friends. But Ace counters that Sebek couldn't read the room for randomly joining a vacation he has no involvement in.

Sebek replies that he didn't even want to go with the others, but here's just here because he needs to wake Ace up. But Ace's response to the whole dream thing is just him being apathetic, not caring if it's reality or not. Because he thinks if you've lived in a dream long enough, it's not longer a dream isn't it? But a new reality, and not a lot of people can say they're living life without hardship. It's like he already weighed all the outcomes and possibilities of the situation he's in.

Sebek argues back that he cares about Malleus, which is why he and Silver are trying to wake everyone to save him. Because to him, he doesn't want to continue if it means leaving Malleus alone. But Ace doesn't sympathize, he actually blames Malleus for their current predicament and if he gets lonely; he brought it upon himself. To Ace, Sebek's being selfish for ruining his dream just to go and save the one who caused the problem to happen; and to ask Ace's help to defeat Malleus? That's pretty much a death sentence (now Ace isn't exactly a saint either, both are selfish as to how much are they willing to sacrifice for the people they care about). Ace runs away, and that's when Ortho asks the question: if it were someone else, would Sebek hold the same dedication to wake everyone up? Deuce blames Sebek for this, whihc he goes "HUH? WHY ME?!"

Ortho agress with Deuce, Sebek got too emotional and Ace had a point with what he was saying. Sebek tries to defend himself by saying that it's for Malleus and Lilia but what he did is still considered selfish by anyone's standards. Even Ortho admits that's he's selfish too, and also helped because Idia was in trouble; not everyone is forced to do this.

The seniors are back and they all agree with Ace that he isn't exactly necessary to the plan. We actually get to see Silver get mad at Sebek for causing this whole mess, not realizing that his behavior does have consequences. Once again, Sebek tries defending himself but Silver wasn't having it; leaving him no choice but to submit.

Idia says that even if everyone teams up, it's not guaranteed that they can defeat Malleus and Silver prefers not to force people to fight. Even Leona acknowledges that Ace's current magical prowess is just that of an ordinary mage, and that they can simply move on without him (Deuce, Yuu and Grim are saddened by this).

Cater says that Ace is probably frustrated and alone right now, so he chooses to look for him to help him "sleep" without the interference of Leona or Idia. Cater leaves with Yuu, Grim, and Deuce going after him (the others follow suit too just to make sure nothing bad happens). Yuu catches up with him and tries to convince to let them talk to Ace one more time. But Cater affirms that he doesn't intend to leave Ace here and has a plan (awww)

So Cater was right, he finsd Ace alone thinking about the things the others have told him. He lends an ear as he listens to Ace rant about the whole thing, and he agrees that his reaction to everything was normal; but then he suddenly goes "what they're saying is actually true tho" then HE SUMMONS HIS CLONES TO BEAT ACE'S ASS NAURRR 😭😭😭

This causes Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey to appear and they're mad at Cater for attacking Ace. EVEN DREAM! DEUCE AND DREAM! CATER APPEAR but they just take Ace away. Ortho tries to intervene but the others stop him. With Leona telling the others that Cater asked to not be interfered and Deuce adding that it was also his plan to find a way to trigger the darkness.

Cater's plan is working, as Ace starts to become aware of his surroundings; that the things his dorm mates are saying are stuff they wouldn't say in real life. He also points out that how can someone like him help defeat Malleus, and that he's scared. The darkness actually reveals Ace's vulnerable side and we're just watching it from afar. Silver notices that Ace is being persuaded by the darkness but Idia knows that Ace is clever, that's when Leona chimes in that Ace realizes that there's always going to be someone stronger than him, thus knowing his limits. That's when Idia's like "brotha aren't you just talking about yourself?", cue Leona trying to break his tablet.

We also learn more about how the Dark Mirror chooses its students, while the qualities in which one gets sorted into a dorm remains vague it usually chooses people who leave a mark on history in the future.

Okay going back to Ace, Cater brings up that time during Riddle's overblot and about how quick they were to jump into action. He thanks him for inspiring to fight against their Housewarden that day, also adding that going into fights that are "winnable" seem lame and that he's scared too, but they have to fight. Ace actually starts crying, because he doesn't want to look like a coward and that's what wakes him up.

Cater helps Ace out of the darkness and calls for the others for backup. After that, Grim and Deuce are mad at Ace for trying to stay in the dream. He also nags to Cater about him using his UM on him, but it was the only way to get him to wake up. They show Ace the video and now his pissed at Malleus, but Grim's like "weren't you scared of him earlier???".

Silver thanks Ace for his help and also apologizes for Sebek's behavior, in which Ace blames Lilia and Silver for spoiling him and Sebek's like "I'M NOT SPOILED BY SILVER 😡". Ortho did mention that Sebek looked awkward after their argument and suggests that he should apologize but Idia replies that he has too much of a pride to do so. Ace just bullies Sebek lmao, forgiving him with his "whole heart".

Cater steps in before it gets any worse, and we get ADeuce saying "Dream Form Change" now. Ace still doesn't want to fight Malleus, but given the circumstance he doesn't really have a choice. Once shown his dummy version, Grim just laughs at his outfit and Cater comments on the fruits

The dream ends with the first years complaining about how cramped it is and Leona just tells Silver to get on with it.

And that ends Ace's Dream, took me awhile to get this out because we actually learn a lot about him in this one and I really tried my best to give him justice yknow?

We're off to Trey's Dream next, see you then!

Previous: Cater's Dream Next: Trey's Dream

(Note: This post is a summarized version of the update, info and pics comes from @/LBucchie, @/WitchDrug, and @/acesuuu on x/twt, give them some support if you can)

#rany talks about twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #diasomnia #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #idia shroud #oortho shroud #leona kingscholar #deuce spade #cater diamond #ace trappola #btw guys im gonna give a heads up that trey's segment will come out around this week #can't guarantee which day since I'm quite busy but I'll try my best to get it out by then

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kakashiskunai25 · 2 days ago

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Thinking about how Kakashi used to ignore Gai at first but then slowly noticed how determined and strong willed he is which made him get curious about gai and start to pay more attention. Then in academy days he accepted being guy's eternal rival and had defended + comforted him when he was getting bullied over his father as well as when he lost his dad as kakashi called Dai " the coolest ninja he knows", he cared about Gai's well being.

The withdrawal in anbu era most likely from both trauma and Kakashi being scared of letting gai in since he thought he lost everyone who was close with him. He didn't want to lose gai too. Tho he saw all of Gai's efforts of trying to break his walls and be there for him which led to Kakashi returning to Gai as an open and loyal friend the way he was for him when Kakashi was losing himself. Kakashi also told him not to use the 8th Gate which would cost Gai his life and Kakashi losing him even if it was necessary to win the war, I love that Gai held it off till the last moment and saved Kakashi for one last time before using it to fight Madara 😭.

Gai also knew kakashi wasn't really " keen on living" during the Root, and he always make sure to remind Kakashi that he always want him by his side, he matters to Gai so much🥹

As much he would deny Kakashi loves his company because he forgets all about the darkness of the world when he is with Gai and he definitely feels safe with him cause if he tries to save everyone, who is going to save him? He also said he slept without nightmares that night they slept together. I also think Gai brings out his inner child who got lost after the death of his father and his team and lets Kakashi act carefree with him which is very fun to witness 🥹💜

We see him much more emotionally open with Guy in boruto, like crying in front of him over his favorite novel, imagine younger Kakashi doing that lol. I love that he gives Gai those soft looks full of care, admiration and love. Gai has lost his father when he was young like Kakashi and also lost one of his students as well as his physical ability and Kakashi knows how hard it is for him since he can relate to that and even informs others that Gai has things he is sensitive over too. I also believe having similar painful experiences makes them understand each other better and be closer.

He also would throw his logic out of the window if he had any chance to heal Guy and make his life better.

In Stories of Konoha I just absolutely adore how Kakashi treats Gai, he is worried about him but that doesn't make him see Gai any differently, treat him like he is weak or anything, he does the quite the opposite and supports him. It is love, it doesn't have to be romantic but it is there and that's what matters🥰

In conclusion, we dont need to see them confess or kiss to know they love each other. Kakashi and Gai just have pure love between them💚

#kakagai #hatake kakashi #might guy #naruto shippuden #anime #maito gai #anbu kakashi #manga #peak of childhood friends to lovers #we all need a bf like gai

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ivyblossom · 2 days ago

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Feed Your Own Beast

The perennial complaint from fanfic writers that they put so much effort into a story, therefore they are owed fannish engagement, and there ought to be some sort of return on investment for their fannish labour: I am perplexed. I'm not sure where these folks got the message that readers have the option to rank and sort fics by author effort. I must have glossed over that AO3 field all these years. Is it a Likert scale?

I understand wanting comments and kudos and all that. Getting fannish engagement on your work is amazing. Nothing has shaped me or helped me improve as a writer more than fannish interaction. I understand hoping for it, and I understand being disappointed when you don't get it. I understand bailing on a story because no one seems to be into it and that harshes your squee. Posting something in a vacuum when you were hoping to contribute to a fannish conversation is a bummer.

But in a "don't like, don't read" world where unsolicited con crit is harshly frowned upon, where the interaction you get should be neutral at worst and is usually only positive, thinking of that enthusiastic engagement as basic payment for entry is ugly.

It's not healthy to be annoyed that your effort isn't being duly rewarded when the only reward available is unalloyed praise. If you were being rewarded for effort, that praise wouldn't be genuine. Praise must be given freely. Fandom isn't a reward system for creator effort, and it's not a capitalist structure when people need to pay to participate, or where we should feel compelled to compensate anyone in fannish tokens.

I've read quite a lot of angry push back against the response "write for yourself", as if it means that you can't want or value fannish interaction and validation, and you can't be disappointed if you don't get any. That's not what it means. Most fannish creators hope their work will be well-received and that other fans will engage with it. But if you're writing fanfiction with the expectation that you will be doused in praise for your efforts, you're setting yourself up for a fall.

If you are writing for praise, you will always be disappointed no matter how much of it you get. Writing is hard, and there isn't enough praise to compensate for the effort and time it takes. "Write for yourself" doesn't mean "place no value on fannish enthusiasm for your work". It means "don't do this if you aren't feeding your own beast by doing so". Producing that fic needs to be part of your reward system. If it's not, if creating that fic and putting in the world doesn't feed your beast at all and you need the involvement of others to make it worth the effort, don't write the fic.

I don't care it that means fewer fics. We don't need more fics created by people sacrificing their time and effort when that labour doesn't bring them joy and/or satisfaction. Fan creators don't work for fandom, and fandom doesn't owe us payment.

The most heartbreaking part of this to me is what the complaints about insufficient interaction do to the people who have interacted. When fan writers claim they are not getting sufficient feedback and admonish people to interact more and better, it invariably makes the people who did interact with their work feel like their interaction wasn't good enough. That's unfair and untrue. If you expect more and better praise for your own efforts, give more and better praise.

I love fannish interaction. I cherish comments and kudos. I love recs and reviews. I am thrilled by any and all comments on fics, even fics that are a decade old or older, it's all great, validating, and wonderful. I am so grateful to the people who offer it and I welcome interaction at all times. I will never not welcome it with absolute and genuine delight, even when it's a key smash. But there is and never will be a toll to pay for reading.

Readers who read and don't kudos or comment: you are valid. Readers who feel guilt when reading admonishments to interact more: you are valid, and having nothing to feel guilty about. Fannish engagement should only ever be freely offered, never coerced. Enthusiastic consent only. If/when you decide to kudos/comment, do it because you mean it and you want to. And only then. Don't let anyone tell you what you should want to do. That's up to you.

#fanfiction #comments and kudos #the age old complaint

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firefistacesfreckles · 17 hours ago

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I think it’s peculiar that Shanks “returned” to Mary Geoise; Doffy got denied because once a CD leaves they aren’t considered CDs anymore, even if they were children when it happened. Returning isn’t possible. Also can’t help but focus on the lack of derogatory terms against Shanks himself when Shamrock mentions it, the only negative is calling the outside world filthy. Some translations even put it as Shanks being led astray. What are the chances that even though the Figarland family is very ruthless, they care about their own? Enough to accept them after being tainted or whatever and wield enough influence to pull off what is considered impossible? And that perhaps that sentiment hasn’t changed?

very good point! it seems like shamrock (as of now) doesn't really hate shanks but, rather, he's disappointed in him for choosing what he deems a "filthy world" over mary geoise. i guess it was a hard blow to be reunited with his twin brother after so long, only for him to leave again. can't wait to see more about their dynamic.

also, knowing how much of an asshole garling is and how much he looks down on common people, it's kinda surprising that he (apparently) let shanks off so easily. because, if we go by the theory that shanks returned to mary geoise right after roger's death, garling was definitely strong enough to kill him or, at the very least, not allow him to leave. but he didn't. which means that a) he deems shanks as tainted and unworthy and doesn't give a shit about what he does or doesn't do or b) he lowkey cares about him. maybe he feels guilty about abandoning him/losing him on god valley all those years ago?

honestly, the fact that shanks was even allowed to set foot into the holy land AND THEN be given the chance to claim his title after being a part of the most infamous pirate crew of all time (excluding joy boy's, ofc) is actually insane. meanwhile, and as you mentioned, doffy tried to return when he was a kid and got denied. there must be families among the celestial dragons that are more important than others, and the figarland family most likely is one of those. i mean, i can understand why. every figarland we've been introduced to so far is incredibly powerful (god's knight commander, yonko and gorosei. might be the only family that rivals luffy's in terms of iconic members lmao).

what is clear is that shanks appears to still have some privileges, despite renouncing his birthright as a celestial dragon. dude literally pulled up to marineford and stopped a war, and then was allowed to hold a funeral for both whitebeard and ace with literally no opposition from the world government.

i'm ranting now, but i'm just so excited that we are finally getting some shanks lore lol i'll stop now, or else this is gonna be longer than needed, but tysm for the ask, anon! i love talking about this man

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #shanks #figarland shamrock #figarland garling #figarland family #figarland shanks #celestial dragons #lucy rants #ask

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fangdokja · 2 hours ago

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How to Turn ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ Into a Very Literal Situation.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Word Count. 1,262

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, suggestive themes, fear play, hints at rough play and sex, forced relationship, BDSM

♡ Yandere! Love Interests who have officially driven you past your limit. Who have ignored every rational warning, every insult, every attempt at reason. Who have pushed you, the most romance-averse, horror-obsessed, emotionally-detached woman alive, into an ultimatum.

♡ Yandere! Love Interests who thought they'd won when you finally turned your attention to them. Who were ready to celebrate, maybe even reward your "acceptance" with something sickly sweet—chains, marriage contracts, a night in their bed. Only to realize that the only thing you've accepted... is that they need to die.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who wakes up to find his wine poisoned—a neurotoxin meant to paralyze his lungs while keeping his mind perfectly aware. The slow suffocation, the dawning horror, the perfect revenge you planned so meticulously. And yet—

“Mm, bold of you.” His voice is unshaken, amusement dripping from every syllable as he sits up effortlessly. He lifts the goblet, swirling the poisoned liquid with appreciation. “You really thought I’d fall for this?” He leans close, fingers gripping your jaw. “How adorable.”

Before you can recoil, he crushes his lips to yours. A searing, bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth—

And then he exhales.

Your lungs seize. Your limbs go weak. The world spins as the very poison you crafted seeps into you from his breath alone. He pulls away, watching with satisfaction as you collapse, muscles useless, body unresponsive.

“Poison immunity is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” he muses, stripping off his gloves. “Now, my dear, let’s make the most of your current state.” He shoves your body onto the bed, languidly unbuckling his belt. “You wanted me helpless. Instead, you’ll be the one at my mercy.” He drags your legs apart, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel everything.” His breath fans over your ear, a cruel chuckle following. “You just won’t be able to move.”

———

♡ Yandere! Archduke who wakes up in the middle of the night to the sensation of something cold pressing against his throat. A wire—thin, near-invisible, designed to slice through arteries with just the right amount of tension. You’re behind him, grip steady, eyes glinting with exhaustion and hatred.

He smirks. “Creative. Most would simply try a dagger.” His voice is too steady. Too calm. And that’s when you notice the way his muscles flex, a second too late to react as he twists in place, wrapping the garrote around his own wrist to yank you forward.

He pins you against the bed, hands pressing you down by your wrists. He’s laughing. Actually laughing. “You must really want my attention. Trying to murder me in my sleep? That’s intimacy, my dear.” His fingers brush your pulse, lingering.

“Tell me, did you enjoy the thought of killing me? Did it make you feel powerful?” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “I think it’s adorable.”

“How thrilling,” he purrs, tightening the wire around his own neck for show. “Did you enjoy the thought of watching me choke? How precious.”

“Let me return the favor.” His hands encircle your throat, squeezing—just enough to send panic flooding your veins.

“Feel that?” His lips trail over your jaw, his thumbs pressing, teasing the line between breath and suffocation. “Now imagine if I were inside you while doing this.” He grins as you tremble. “Actually, why imagine? Let’s make it reality.”

———

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who wakes up buried alive. A perfect plan—you drugged him, dragged his body to the outskirts of the city, buried him six feet under, and reinforced the soil with spells to block his magic. A masterpiece of calculated death.

Which is why, when he knocks on your window that evening, dirt still clinging to his robes, you want to scream.

"You are fascinating," he muses, stepping into your room as if he owns it. "Not even my enemies have gone to such lengths. Did you calculate the oxygen levels? Did you wait for my heartbeat to slow?"

Your hand twitches.

He catches it before you can throw another spell. His grip is loose, barely restraining you.

“Violent little thing,” he murmurs. His voice is low, smooth, like silk drenched in something lethal. “You should know better than anyone—magic is far more effective when cast with intent.”

His other hand raises. Magic surges through the air, thick with power. Your body locks up. Heat pools in your gut, the aftershock of an aphrodisiac spell pressing against your nerves.

Your glare sharpens to something lethal. “Undo it.”

His gaze darkens, and a small, knowing smile plays on his lips.

“Make me.”

Before you can run, your body locks up—his magic binding you in invisible shackles. He steps behind you, fingers tilting your chin up. “Burying me alive was such an intimate thing to do,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “It’s only fair I return the favor.”

The world shifts. Darkness presses in. You realize, too late, he’s woven a new spell—one where you are trapped, suffocating in soil that isn’t there, feeling the weight of it press against your chest.

“You’ll only be freed when I’m satisfied,” he muses, hands slipping beneath your clothes. “And I do hope you struggle. I’d love to see how deep your desperation runs.”

———

♡ Yandere! Demon King who doesn’t flinch when you drive a dagger straight through his chest. You used everything—enchanted silver, a sacred blade, the heart-piercing technique you read in a forbidden grimoire. It should have worked.

He smiles. "Pet. You wound me."

"That was the point."

His fingers wrap around the hilt, yanking it free without hesitation.

The wound heals instantly.

Blood drips from the blade as he turns it toward you.

“You’re trembling.” His voice is mockingly gentle. “Was this your best attempt?”

You don’t move. He watches you, fascinated, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim candlelight.

Then, slowly, he reaches for you.

You step back. He doesn’t let you. His fingers curl around your wrist, his touch unyielding.

“You’d make a lovely queen,” he whispers. “Such a shame you refuse to kneel.”

He steps closer, his sheer presence making the air thin, his eyes gleaming with something ancient, something terrifyingly patient.

“Let me show you what demons do to naughty little mortals who try to kill them.”

The blade clatters to the ground as he yanks you into his grasp, tearing fabric, exposing flesh. “You wanted me dead?” His voice is a purr against your throat. “Then scream like you’re dying.”

And then he devours you whole.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

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old-fandom · 3 days ago

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Hello everyone. I have been inspired to talk about a new idea :)

I've been seeing a lot of the Axolotl with Stan comparison with Ford and Bill so I wanted to throw my hat into the ring of AUs. It's got a bit of a Steven Universe and The Last Unicorn twist in there but it's not huge.

Basically, it's like this.

Stanford was never meant to be a twin.

Stanley Mackerel was never meant to be human.

Axolotl and Mackerel are cut from the same cloth, they are both powerful cosmic beings, as there are others in their tight knit species. Mackerel takes on the shape and form of a, well, a Mackerel.

With them beings entities of time and space, they are aware of the possible threat Bill has on the planet Earth. Mackerel has an affinity for Earth and all of it's beings. Upon hearing (and knowing) this news, he is greatly affected by it. He understands, though, that not all hope is lost. A challenger, Stanford Pines, will come to Earth in due time but unfortunately, they do not see him succeeding against him in any timeline, at least on his own. The Mackerel realizes that Earth has no real chance of survival without interdimensional involvement, but as cosmic beings, they are forbidden.

So Mackerel sacrifices his deityship in place of becoming human, to be born next to their challenger. With a companion, Stanford would be protected and supported in a way that by himself, he would have never received. The others foresee that with Mackerel's involvement, Earth has a much greater chance of survival, almost 100%. But his sacrifice means cutting his connection to all of his powers, his memories, his relationships with the other, with his own self being.

By turning human, Mackerel will always be different than the others. Even when/if he returns, he will never be the same. He will be human.

But he does it.

So Stanley Pines, the unknown twin brother of Stanford Pines is born. He remembers nothing and yet, he knows that he love Stanford very much.

Stanley grows up as such, as Stanley. His body had never seen earth before, everything he did in this life time was for the very first time. Not reincarnated, not interlaced with his DNA, brand new. That's the reason why Stanley is a little slow to catch on to things and yet so invested in others, such as the sea, art, and Stanford. Stanley is truly a free spirit. Yet, despite having no memories of his past life, Stanley never strayed far from his original intentions, to love and protect the most important person around him, Stanford. This is the first time that Stanley had ever felt love, and it burned and yearned like a sun flare in his stomach. It was impossible for him to never love Stanford.

The AU continues as it does in canon with the fall out, with the drifting, with the portal, with the 30 years, with the niblings, with Weirdmagedan.

It's not until when Stan and Ford are on their boat does the Axolotl make their appearance. You see, once Stanley started regaining his memories, flashes of his life before were intercepting with his human memories. He never told Stanford because he didn't believe any of it meant anything other than a wild imagination. Until the Axolotl appeared.

It is there, on their boat in the sea, that it is revealed to Ford and Stan the truth of Stan's existence, his past, and his involvement with saving the world. The Axolotl apologizes to Stanley, saying they were meant to come collect him after Weirdmagen was over but got side tracked with Bill. This is where Ford learns that Bill is not dead but is being punished in another dimension without any powers and under a careful eye. But what dawns on Stanford the most is the collecting part.

To the Axolotl, Mackerel had completed his mission and it was time to come home now. To Stanford, they were taking his brother away from him all over again. And he couldn't stand by and watch it happen, watch him leave. He'd make a case, he'd cry, he'd beg, he'd fight for him.

But he didn't need to.

Mackerel and Stanley were now one in the same, not truly human but not truly Cosmic Being. He was alone. No other creature had ever done what he had, sacrificed and changed himself so completely the way he did. And now, with the truth in his hand, he decided the only thing to do.

Tell the Axolotl to get lost.

After all of his hard work, all of the things he experienced and gave up, the only thing he wanted now was to spend time with his twin. And if the Axolotl was telling the truth, that he truly did do all of those things, then didn't he deserve some fun, a vacation, a reward? If the Mackerel loved the world so much like Axolotl claimed as such, then shouldn't he be allowed to be in it for a while before he dies?

The Axolotl, a omniscient being, knew that this was how their conversation would go, just like how they knew in the moment Mackerel gave up his powers for humans. The Axolotl respected Mackerel's wishes but warned Stan that when he died, he will return to his original being while Stanford will stay on earth as both a human and a spirit, carefully being reincarnated as all humans do.

It's in that moment that Stanley proclaimed, "He's my brother. I love him. I won't leave him, not now, not in the future, no when we're dead and buried. And when he is reincarnated and I'm floating around space as a big ugly fish, don't be surprised when I ditch yall and reincarnate right next him just like this time. We're twin. Where ever we go, We go together!"

With that, the Axolotl leaves.

How this becomes Stancest is that kinda how Rose Quartz and Greg get together but subconsciously.

Mackerel loved Earth, loved people, loved all of the things that Earth was and is. Once reborn as Stanley, he couldn't help but love the being he was born with, the person that made survival a possibility for Earth. But he didn't remember that. All he knew was that he loved Stanford very much. And as time went on, some of these thoughts became incestious, which obviously caused some internal problems, but with time, he just added it to the pile of things that were weird with him. By the time he is on the ship with Stanford, he resigned himself to never have his love reciprocated romantically, but with the Axolotl's appearance and the world shattering news that he was actually a powerful cosmic being who chose Stanford and Earth, he threw caution to the wind. And with it, so did Stanford, who had always felt the same for Stanley.

With the reintroduction of his past life, Stan does recover lost memories from that time, even slowly being able to use some of his old powers in small amounts. However, this means that his body was also dying and letting some of his divinity seep through.

So as the story goes, the twins do eventually die. Stanley first, who does reappear as Mackerel and showing himself to Stanford (+ the niblings) and explaining that now that he remembered everything, he would keep his promise, to always be by his side, in this next life and beyond. Stanley followed Ford around, keeping him safe in the mean time, while also watching over his Niblings and their families. When it was time for Stanford to go, he followed.

And just as he promised, Stanley followed Stanford.

Because where ever they go, they go together.

#stancest #stancest au #this can be read as platonic as well #but this is being posted on my stancest blog so its gonna be stancest #also because mackerel/stan really does love the earth and stanford

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banditomojado · 2 days ago

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ATTENTION I HAVE FOUND A NEW SHOW TO OBSESS OVER. THE FOLLOWING IS A BRIEF BREAKDOWN OF ALL THE MAIN CHARACTERS AND WHY I LOVE THEM/WOULD DIE FOR THEM ALREADY.

Mild spoilers for the first 5 episodes of The Legend of Vox Machina!

Oh boy, where do I begin!!! I have always been a lover of fantasy ever since I saw LOTR as a young child! Unfortunately, I didn't grow up around friends who were into the genre so I was never exposed to things like D&D. But fear not, folks like me! You need not be a D&D veteran to enjoy this show! Okay, so let's start talking about the characters featured in this party!

First up, the twins! Specifically here, Vex'ahlia "Vex" Vessar! So I love that the series features a sibling pair. Vex, at least in the first few episodes, seems to be the de facto leader of the group. She's a half-elf, half-human, a ranger-type, a badass archer and skilled warrior. The group, especially her brother, seems to look to her for guidance and commands in a lot of situations. She's so cool and has a strong presence in every scene. She has a dry wit, always on point with her verbal jabs. I've only known her for a day, and already I would trust her with my life. I do feel like she is a little too controlling of her twin brother, but so far she hasn't done anything too awful besides passive-aggressively disapproving of her brother's budding attraction to another member of the party, but more on that later!

And now for her brother, Vax'ildan "Vax" Vessar! He is a rogue-like character, specializing in daggers and throwing knives, and stealthy combat. He is also a wizard at picking locks. Much like his sister, he maintains a cool, mysterious aura about him, and he seems to come in handy whenever the situation calls to be sneaky. LOVE that the series has heavily implied he's a bi-king, featuring several scenes in the first five episodes where he flirts with both male and female characters. I love his relationship with his sister, you can already tell they have been through a lot and have helped each other survive it all, although it could prove troublesome if he does in fact decide to pursue a certain other half-elf, half-human member of the party...

Speaking of which, up next is Keyleth of the Air Ashari! She is a druid, capable of a wide array of magical abilities like controlling plant-life and shape-shifting into different kinds of animals! She's so cool, but she also has a sort of "fresh-out-of-college-stumbling-through-life" kind of vibe that I find utterly adorable. She's awkward, messes up a lot, struggles with self-esteem issues, but always tries her absolute best and has already saved the party from certain death a few times. I'm a sucker for flawed, awkward characters who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and are just trying to do their best. Apparently she is currently on a ritualistic quest (Aramenté) to prove herself to her people so she can one day lead them and is not allowed to return until she has done so. So much pressure on my girl! She is obviously attracted to Vax, and I think they would make a cute couple, but something tells me that things won't quite work out for them...

Up next is Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III! He is by far the "edgiest" member of the group. He is a human gunslinger, a somewhat surprising set of skills for a fantasy setting, but it fits into this world perfectly! He's incredibly skilled with his gun, very smart, and by far the most sophisticated of the party. He comes from royalty, after all, and the first five episodes reveal how that life was ripped from him following a violent coup d'état which resulted in the slaughter of his entire family. So needless to say, my man has some baggage. He seems to possess a darker side to him that only appears when he is in a state of rage. He is very scary when in that state, and even carries around a plague doctors mask for such occasions. Revenge stories are a favorite of mine, as they always manage to provide the character seeking revenge with immensely satisfying/cathartic arcs, so I'm very much excited to see where the story takes him! I also think it's very telling that he is the sole human character of the party, it explains his inclination towards the dark side!

Next up we have Pike Trickfoot! She is a gnome cleric, capable of magical abilities like healing and conjuring up light-based energy shields. She is a fascinating character, given that her magic stems from heavily religious beliefs, though she seems to revel in violent situations and vices like binge drinking. She is a sweetheart, always looking out for the other members of the party, but also not afraid to go toe-to-toe with an enemy! The first five episodes see her lose connection to the Everlight, a kind of goddess that is the source of her magical abilities, thus she is forced to separate from the group. This was a huge bummer, because I really enjoyed her interactions with the other members of the party, especially her close friendship with the next member of the group I'll be talking about!

Next up is Grog Strongjaw! He is a Goliath barbarian, specializing in brute strength and combat with his mighty ax. Normally I'm not that interested in big, buff, warrior-like characters, but he's an absolute delight! He provides a lot of the show's comedic relief, due in large part to his limited wit and insatiable desire for bloodshed. He is big and dumb, but full of heart and determination to keep his friends safe, especially Pike, who he seems to share an especially close bond with. LOVE that he calls her "Pikey"! Having to see them go their separate ways so early into the series was definitely upsetting (seeing him cry over not being able to feel her presence while they were apart was precious), but I'm glad the group still has his brute strength to rely on if things get hairy.

And finally, we have Scanlan Shorthalt! He is a gnome bard, who also seems to possess a few magical abilities via his lute, such as being able to conjure up a large, floating purple hand. He is by far the main source of comedic relief of the group, crass and hedonistic, with an admirable ability for quick wit. He is also the group's resident slut, never wasting an opportunity to possibly get laid. He also appears to be bi, which is lovely. Comic relief characters often hide the saddest backstories, so I'm excited to delve more into his past and learn more about him. He also seems to have a crush on Pike, which is just absolutely adorable, although based on how he acts around the group, it's no wonder nothing has happened between them yet. Better wait until he grows up a bit, Pikey.

So far, the series has given me plenty of reasons to love each member of the party, and the writing for them has so far been excellent! Love their various little interactions, I think you could pair off or group any member together and you would still get a satisfying story/adventure. Five episodes in and I'm completely hooked! If anyone who is a fan of the show wants to watch along with me, let me know! I know I'm super late to the party, but I would LOVE to discuss the story with someone! I'm aware that these characters existed long before the Amazon show and that the show itself was a result of a large fan-funded campaign, so I'm especially eager to get to talk to fans who have been there from the very beginning!

#the legend of vox machina #tlovm #critical role #dungeons and dragons #d&d #Vex'ahlia “Vex” Vessar #Vax'ildan “Vax” Vessar #Keyleth of the Air Ashari #Percival “Percy” Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III #Pike Trickfoot #Grog Strongjaw #Scanlan Shorthalt #fantasy #calling all fans!#please don't be afraid to message me about the show!#i wanna get to know fellow fans as I watch!

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true-blue-sonic · 2 days ago

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Hey uh, I read your fics a lot and I really enjoy your writing style, I get emotionally invested in characters I usually don't, and our ships align too ^^,

I was wondering for either Sonilver or Espilver (its your choice!), how would they react to one of them getting kidnapped? I feel like you'd be the best to ask on a topic like this, your viewpoints are usually pretty spot on in my opinion!

Its alright to ignore this I'm pretty shy-

Thank you for the compliments, that makes me happy to hear!❤️ And no need to be shy, I love answering questions ^-^

I can do all three characters, that is no problem! For Sonic, we kind of know how he would react, based on Lost World: where he's his quippy self for a large part of the start of the game, the moment Tails is kidnapped, that is gone. Just compare how Sonic talks to Zor compared to, say, Zazz! With Zazz, there's a constant smile on Sonic's face, and he's standing all relaxed and easy-going (e.g. with one hand on his side; it conveys something rather callous to me). But then with Zor, Sonic's obviously pissed off: he's talking loudly, getting right into Zor's face with ticked-off body language, and all jokes and japes have disappeared entirely. Of course, Tails and Sonic are the Unbreakable Bond, so it makes sense Sonic reacts so strongly to his brother getting kidnapped. But should that happen to Silver when he and Sonic are in a relationship, I think Sonic would be equally angry. He strikes me as a character with a "I don't care what you do to me, but don't you dare lay a finger on anybody I cherish" kind of mindset. So if Silver got abducted, all the jokes would be thrown out the window, and leave a rather angry hedgehog who is going to make things right immediately in their wake.

As for Espio, I think he'd also be pissed off, but for him it'd be more of a... quiet shimmering underneath the surface? Like, you can tell that he's mad, but he's also very calmly keeping up his activities while planning to rescue Silver. I figure it's more in his tone of voice and the fact his motions seem just a bit more sharp and locked-up compared to normal. And whoever dared lay a finger on Silver is utterly fucked: Espio won't rest until they've been removed off the face of the earth. But Espio is skilled in keeping his focus, so even if he's raging on the inside at what happened, I don't think he'd let it impact his actions much. If anything, he might become even more careful to ensure a greater chance of success.

Now, as for Silver: I think compared to both Sonic and Espio, his anger would be a lot louder. He's already quite the passionate dude who doesn't tend to make quips and jokes like Sonic and who isn't calm and collected like Espio, so that passion shoots through the roof should either Sonic or Espio be abducted. He's definitely going to be the most reckless of the three, racing in without thinking to get his beloved back (which might be something a villain is counting on, actually). Especially with Espio that forms a problem: in Rivals 2 we see Espio take the role of the more calm and collected right-hand-man who comes up with plans should Silver be unable to. So, if he's not around to aid Silver and keep him calm, Silver is gonna take incredibly reckless actions that he just powers through with the might of his PK alone, I feel like. I have no doubt that he'll succeed in rescuing either Sonic or Espio, but he's definitely the one with the least of a plan and the highest levels of fuming anger between the three of them. To sketch the difference: if we were to put him in the Lost World situation with Zor, I think Silver wouldn't even have angrily demanded the Deadly Six return Sonic/Espio; he'd just have rushed right in and beat the hell out of Zor instead.

So that's how I think the three of them would react! ^-^

#glad to hear you like my writing so much🍀 I love Espilver and Sonilver so it makes me happy that people enjoy what I write about them ^-^#silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #sonic the hedgehog #espilver #sonilver

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sfznyxio · 2 days ago

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-ˋˏ THROUGH THICK AND THIN ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. with your kin swept away by the cataclysm, you have no one to rely on other than your wits. the curse of being immortal has you start fresh in the modern world as a citizen of inazuma, living alongside humans and yokai. throughout your life in the moral realm, you’ve met many interesting people. out of all of them, one becomes your rock and a shoulder to cry on. out of the blue, you say whatever is in your heart. they’ll reach out for your hand to let you know they're listening.

CHARACTERS. arataki itto, gorou, yoimiya

CONTENT. gn!reader. canon-compliant. immortal au. hurt/comfort. 0.5k wc. rewrite of phase six at my old main blog @/verxsyon. itto is half- immortal due to his oni blood. gorou is fully immortal due to him being some sort of yokai. yoimiya stays mortal. references to voicelines when you ascend characters to phase six, or in other words, from level 80 to 90. they’re part of the dialogue, which will be italicized.

VERA. you can tell from the old title that i’m terrible with titles. what even is phase six? good thing rewrites exist, amirite?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARATAKI ITTO

once an oni, always an oni. that’s a farewell from the villagers when they drove him out of his home for an incident he wasn’t involved in, just because of his half-immortal heritage. the streets ridiculed him; he spent so long fending off for himself until he met granny oni. you remind him of his younger self, even the strongest people need support the most.

“this is the cliff that me and the boys go to sing our hearts out to, you know, loosen up,” he says. “if you want, make sure you’re loud and clear so the ocean can hear you. i gotta warn you though, my voice is so amazing that it’ll blow you away.”

“but in all seriousness…” he helps you up on your feet, and you’re able to see the beauty of the world down below — the ocean that is waiting to hear you sing and the unknown ahead. “just because i made it to the top doesn't mean i’m gonna forget all the things you've done for me, okay? i’ve still got your back, anytime, anywhere.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. GOROU

top dog. the ever-victorious pointy-eared general. those nicknames are what he believed he didn’t deserve. an immortal like yourself, he has lived through and fought in countless wars for centuries to be acquainted with loneliness. most of his best soldiers are gone. that kid teppei, one of his brightest, is gone. he’s never been so afraid.

“out of all the wars i fought in, this war against the shogun scared me the most,” he confesses, squeezing your hand tightly. “i wasn’t ready to face any more casualties after teppei. i wasn’t ready to lose both kazuha and the traveler after almost getting executed by her judgment. and when i thought all hope was lost…”

“… you were there beside me to assure me that it’s not. i should be the one thanking you. to return the favor, i’m always here to listen if you need me.” his face lights up and his tail starts to wag. “with momentum on our side and close camaraderie, we are unstoppable. thank you for your guidance. this is a victory that belongs to the both of us.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. YOIMIYA

despite being a mortal, she understands the perspective of an immortal through fireworks. mortal lives are fleeting, she had said to the traveler. once launched into the sky, they disappear. whereas for immortal lives, they can keep watching them disappear forever and ever. she knows that she’ll be gone while you continue to live on, but it doesn’t explain her rather cheerful demeanor.

“oh, why am i happy?” she tilts her head to the side. “well, it’s not because i’m about to leave eventually. it’s because you’re here with me. i’m glad to be able to spend this moment with you. whenever i look at my creations, i don’t think of them being a representation of every mortal living here.”

“i think about the enjoyment i had watching them with my pops, my friends, and my special someone. even when i’m gone, you still believe i’m here.” she stands firm and proud, flashing a peace at you. “never fear, yoimiya is here! evil begone! justice prevails! think this is a good way to introduce the powers you've taught me to the children? isn’t it cool? hehe! hey, tell me if anyone picks on you, too. i’ll stick up for you!”

#♪ .fics #house of solis occasum #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #gorou x reader #arataki itto x reader #yoimiya x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #gi fluff

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heyftinally · 2 days ago

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Memes.

Shitposts.

Resources.

Art.

For many years, iconic posts have circulated tumblr.

But- everything changed when they started getting lost to the void.

Only the Hellsite Detective, master of all post types could find them.

And when the world needed them most, they returned.

I believe the Detective can save the world.

the fan spun slowly and lazily above my head. the sound of rain pounding on the window just beyond the blinds, while normally soothing, now only added to the sense of isolation. on my desk, strewn across it and the rest of the room, were cases. unopened, forgotten. a glass of liquor sat half filled on the only clear space on that desk, the rest having gone down my gullet and straight to my head. projects unfinished, my novel barely touched, life preventing me from continuing…

i considered, for a moment, locking the doors of the office for good. shutting it down and leaving this all to the rats. setting fire to the remains and walking off into the fog one last time. but then i thought about the cases. those people who needed my help, lost without their posts. it made me feel wrong for abandoning them in their time of need, like i was no better than the crooks who hid their posts away in the dark recesses of the city.

so the thought of what to do lingered in my mind, what to do, how to move forward. those cases sat on my desk untouched, my coat and hat unworn, and my whiskey cabinet nearly empty. the faces, the names of all those people i helped and all those i had yet to help. the service i provide is a necessary one, fight back against the evil of this city’s algorithm.

then i thought of my schedule crossed my mind. the old schedule of three cases per day was efficient, but unsustainable. but perhaps if i solved one post per day, this would be significantly easier to ensure the schedule can be maintained. a singular burst of motivation on one day per week would cover me indefinitely…

i stood from my desk, grabbed my keys, coat, and hat, and approached the door. was i really about to do this? was i about to make this call and reopen my office and offer my services to the world? my heart pounded as i slid my key into the lock. there was a hell of a lot of work to do, but dammit if it wasn’t worth it. to have purpose again, that’s what really mattered here. i turned the key, opened the door, and stepped outside onto the street.

the rain fell slower now, as if the heavens themselves could feel my spirits lift. the air was cool and brisk. fall was coming on fast. the paperboy came along to drop off the news when i called out to him…

“ay, boy! spread the word!” i said to him. “the Hellsite Detectice is back on duty…”

#WELCOME BACK!!

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kwanisms · 3 days ago

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SETTLE THE SCORE — y.kihyun

After the events of her story, Y/N has had her curse broken and succubus powers removed, allowing her to live a normal life. She has managed to keep a low profile, getting a job in a diner, her entire world is turned upside down when one of the men she was tasked with seducing in her previous life shows up at the diner late one night with a bone to pick with her. incubus!Kihyun × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT — 13.6k ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, shorter reader, mentions of: self harm, suicide, suffering, torment, demons, food consumption; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — angst, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, restaurant setting, small town vibes; non idol au, demon au ❑ NOTES — here to kick of the Valentine's Special is Kihyun's piece which is a sequel to this Monsta X series I wrote nearly 7 years ago. It's not entirely necessary to read the entire series before reading this but it will help you understand a little better! The next part is going to be Hongjoong's! The taglist is still open and will close on the 7th of February at 11PM CST. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex (do not), oral (f receiving), praise (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), mild anal play (f receiving), dirty talk, mild daddy kink, rough sex, piv sex, cum inside, use of pet names (baby, kitten, etc.), and that should be all of them! If I missed any, let me know!

Your footsteps echoed in the night, carried by the icy wind as you walked with determination towards your destination. The road ahead of you was empty as you continued, staying on the sidewalk and out of harm’s way. In the distance, you could see the bright red neon sign of the diner. As you approached, the old building came into view.

It was an old fashioned diner, something straight out of the 1950’s. The main body of the restaurant was a repurposed train car that had been modified and added onto. Many of these styles of diners popped up in the 40’s and were popular into the 50’s but began to decline in the 60’s. What was left were some of the businesses that lasted out of sheer spite.

The one you worked at, Ray’s, was located along a popular highway, albeit in the middle of nowhere. It had an attached gas station which was the primary purpose for its flow of customers. Most of your visitors were vagrants, coming in for a cup of hot coffee, or travelers passing by and stopping for gas and a bite to eat before continuing on their way. Most of the success was due to the diner being open twenty four hours.

As you crossed the parking lot, a car pulled in and rolled to a stop in front of one of the pumps. You paid no mind as you headed for the door, pulling your coat tighter around you, the chilly wind whipping around you and stinging your nose.

Upon reaching the door, you opened it and darted inside, relishing the warmth of the interior of the diner. As you entered, a woman behind the counter looked up and smiled as you walked in, trying to shake off the cold. “You’re early,” she said as she returned her attention to something on the counter. You approached, unbuttoning your coat and glanced down to see a book full of crossword puzzles resting on the counter top before her, a pen in her grip as she read the clues.

“There wasn’t anything else to do,” you replied as you glanced around the mostly empty diner. There were a few patrons seated at the counter, spaced out and not even looking at one another, instead busying themselves with their food, books, or devices. You turned back to the woman behind the counter. “Anything I need to know about today, Beth?” you asked, leaning over the counter as she looked up.

She was an older woman, maybe in her mid sixties. She had been working at the diner for a long time, longer than any of the other servers. She was the boss when it came to everything not related to the kitchen. She made the schedules for the serving staff and made the rules. She was a no nonsense kind of woman but she wasn’t a total stick in the mud. She had a great sense of humor, it was just hidden under layers hardened by years of customer service.

“Ray’s in a good mood,” she noted as she jotted down letters into the squares of her crossword. “Ray’s always in a good mood,” you pointed out to which Beth scoffed. “You’ve got a point there,” she said with a low chuckle. “I swear, I’ve never seen that man so much as raise his voice even slightly.”

You joined in her amusement before your soft laughter subsided. “Who are we working with tonight?” you asked suddenly. Without looking up, Beth answered your question, filling in another answer to her puzzle. “Ava.” A slight smile graced your lips.

Ava was a sweet young woman. She was in her late teens and an incredibly hard worker. From what Beth had told you, Ava hadn’t had an easy life. Soon after she was born, her mother took off, leaving her with her grandparents. Her grandmother was an alcoholic and her grandfather was a tough, ruthless man. Ava had suffered a multitude of abuses at their hands but despite that, she grew up to be kind and sweet. As soon as she finished high school, she ran away from home with her boyfriend, Cody, and the two of them settled down in the nearby town, renting a small studio apartment.

Ava was taking courses at the local community college while her boyfriend was an apprentice under a logging company. They were both low level employees but they made enough to make ends meet. You’d met Cody on a number of occasions when he would come to pick up Ava and he always struck you as a quiet but polite and very kind person.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed. “I guess I better go clock in,” you murmured as the face read it was almost time for your shift to begin. Beth said nothing, merely nodding, as she continued her puzzle. You stood up and headed for the end of the counter, walking around to the side where the bar opened up. You flipped up the counter and stepped behind, dropping it back in place behind you before pushing open the door to the back.

Soft jazz played in the kitchen, floating through the air towards you and as you passed the dishwashing station, Ray came into view, preparing for the overnight shift and dancing to the music. You held back the urge to chuckle and turned the opposite direction to where the dry storage was. Back here was a place for employees to stash their bags and coats, a small coat rack in the corner between metal shelves that held bags of flour and sugar.

You removed your scarf and hat, tucking them into your coat pocket before pulling it off and hanging it up with your small purse. Once you had that done, you walked into the office, grabbing an apron and tying it on, checking the pockets for your usual pen and pad and grabbing an extra pad of paper and a few pens. You left the office, waving to Ray when he caught sight of you before pushing the door open and entering the bar area.

Walking over to Beth, you grabbed one of the styrofoam to go cups and filled it with ice and water, placing a lid on it and writing your name on the side of the cup in pen. Once you were done, you leaned against the counter, taking a sip as Beth grabbed the sign in sheet, housed in a black binder, and set it on the counter for you.

Grabbing one of your pens, you opened the book to the sheet for the overnight shift with the day’s date on it and signed your name and the time before shutting it and sliding under the counter to sit on the shelf with the other books ranging from accounting books to a phonebook. You watched Beth mess with her crossword for a few moments. “Ava is usually here by now,” Beth muttered under her breath, checking her watch.

You glanced up as the sound of a car pulling into the lot caught your attention. It was a black truck, an older model. The passenger door opened and out hopped Ava, no doubt calling a goodbye to Cody before she shut the door and headed for the diner entrance. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” you whispered jokingly, prompting Beth to raise her head as Ava entered the diner, eyes wide, nose red from the cold, and an apologetic smile on her face.

“I am so sorry, Beth!” she exclaimed as she walked towards the counter. Beth offered only a kind smile. “You’re not late,” you said, glancing at the clock. “You’re still 5 minutes early.” Ava apologized again and Beth merely waved her off, sending her to get her ready and signed in.

Beth finally finished her crossword puzzle and moved onto the next one. Ava joined you up front, tying her apron on. “Sorry again,” she said softly as she finished and you handed her the sign-in book. She quickly jotted down her name and time into the sheet before shutting and handing the book back to you.

“Today is our anniversary and we wanted to go for dinner. It ran longer than I expected,” Ava said as she quickly tied her hair up with a scrunchy, her bangs and a few face framing strands falling back down. “You have nothing to apologize for,” You said, taking another sip of your water through the straw. “And happy anniversary.” Ava smiled, her cheeks turning pink as she thanked you.

The next hour consisted of you and Ava taking turns taking booths and ringing in their orders. As usual, business didn’t pick up until well past midnight. The night travelers came in for a bite to eat or a much needed cup of coffee before filling up their vehicles and continuing on their way. The menu of the diner was varied and consisted of hamburgers and fries to breakfast items like pancakes or french toast and the usual suspects like ham, bacon, sausage, potatoes, eggs, and grits.

It had already been several hours into your shift when “the rush” as Beth called it was dying down. You were due off at any moment when Ava approached you. “Hey, Y/N,” she said softly as you were refilling napkin holders. You glanced up to meet her gaze and immediately, you knew you weren’t going to get off early. “I really hate to do this but do you think we could switch cuts? I’d really like to spend more of my anniversary with Cody before we have to go to bed and he gets up for work.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been looking forward to getting off early to go home but unlike Ava, no one was waiting for you. Just your bed and a few houseplants. You figured you could also use the extra money. With a sigh, you set the now full napkin holder down and grab the next empty one.

“I suppose so,” you said with a smile, looking up at Ava in time to see a wide grin break across her face. “Oh thank you, thank you!” she said excitedly, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug that caught you off guard and off balance. Ava apologized, steadying you with her hands. “Thank you so much!” she said again. You nodded, waving your hand as you playfully dismissed her. “Enjoy your night,” you called as she moved to sign out of the book and head for the back.

She had already finished her side work before asking which was nice. Beth was behind the counter brewing more coffee when Ava returned, bundled up. “Can I place an order to go, Beth?” Ava asked. The older server finished setting up the coffee maker and turned to face Ava. “I need a slice of cherry pie and some ice cream,” Ava said. “One slice?” Beth asked, looking up at her. Ava nodded, looking down at her hands. “I’d like two but I’m short on money so one will have to do!” she exclaimed with a smile.

You finished filling the last napkin holder and started to grab them to put them back on the tables. As you approached Ava and Beth. “Give her a whole pie,” you said as you set a holder on the counter beside Ava. “I’ve got it covered,” you added, giving Ava a wink. Unshed tears shined in the young woman’s eyes as you continued past. Beth put in the order, calling back to Ray who appeared in the window. “A whole pie?! For two people?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, who cares?” you called as you returned to the counter. “I’m paying for it, so it shouldn’t matter!”

Ray rolled his eyes and disappeared as you moved around to enter behind the counter. “The sugar caddies need to be filled,” Beth said as she grabbed the supplies from under the counter. “Bring me the caddies, I’ll fill them. Can you refill the ketchup and mustard?”

You nodded as you grabbed an empty tray and moved back, starting to collect all the small black containers from the tables and brought them to Beth who immediately began wiping them down. You then gathered up all the ketchup and mustard squeeze bottles and moved to the back to grab the containers to refill them.

Ava watched as you worked, bobbing her head to the music that played lightly over head. The door behind her opened and a man entered. He wore a leather jacket over a sweatshirt, a trucker hat, and light wash jeans with heavy work boots. Outside parked at the edge of the parking lot was a massive gray pickup truck with a large trailer attached to the hitch.

“Hi, welcome in,” Beth said, looking up and fixing the man with a smile. “Have a seat anywhere and we’ll be right with you!” The man thanked her and moved to take a seat near the end of the bar closer to where Beth stood. She moved over to stand in front of him and get his order while you worked on refilling the ketchup bottles.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ava asked suddenly. You glanced up for a moment before returning your gaze to your work. “Sure,” you replied. Ava hesitated before asking. “Have you ever been in love?”

Her question caught you off guard and you hesitated to answer. Love was a concept you’d never really had the opportunity to explore. Before you came to the diner, your life was very different. You’d never divulged your past to your coworkers and for good reason.

There was no way they would believe you were a former succubus and that before becoming human, you had served the legions of hell in your own twisted way. Nor would they believe you if you told them of the deal you made in exchange for your freedom.

[flashback] “Collect souls for me.” You looked up at him. “What?” He chuckled. “Not forever, obviously. How about seven? You mutilated ten men, …sooo let’s say ten male souls and we’re even?” He smiled at you and you looked around.

“Just ten male souls? That’s all?” you asked. He thought for a moment. “….how about this? You get me ten souls. I’ll forget this,” he motioned around at the carnage surrounding you before continuing, “ever happened. And, I’ll free you from Lily’s bond. How’s that sound, sugar?”

You jumped to your feet. “You’ll free me?” you asked quickly. He smiled at you. “I’ll free you. You have 10 human years. One soul per year.” He held out a hand and you took it, shaking once. “You’ve got yourself a deal, mister?” you asked. “Just call me Sam,” he smirked.

[back to present] “Y/N?” Ava’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” you murmured. “No,” you continued, a little louder. “I’ve never been in love.” ‘It’s always been in lust.’ Ava’s smile fell slightly. “Oh,” she said softly. “That’s a shame.” Silence fell over you, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock behind you on the wall above the kitchen window.

“Is it?” you asked, tapping the bottom of the ketchup bottle in your hand against the counter top. Ava met your gaze and you could tell she was trying to work out your reasons for saying what you said. “I’ve never had my heart broken,” you continued. “I’ve never been a slave to my emotions, no offense,” you added with a smile but Ava shook her head. “None taken,” she replied.

“I’ve always been my own person. Never been told what to do, free to make my own choices,” you added. That part was only partly true. It was only after you were freed from Sam’s deal that you were allowed to make your own choices. Lucy had set you free after punishing Sam for his illicit dealing.

You felt Ava’s eyes on you once more and offered her a smile. “I’m alright,” you said, noting the concern on her face. “You keep spacing off,” Ava noted. “You let this faraway look, like you’re being transported somewhere else,” she added. You chuckled, nodding as you screwed the cap back onto the last ketchup bottle. “You could say that.”

“So there’s never been anyone?”

Another memory floated to the surface of your mind. Seven memories in fact. Flashes of seven faces that sometimes still haunt your dreams. A family man trying to move on after a nasty divorce, the personal trainer who finally got out of a toxic relationship, the virgin you met in the university library, a shopkeeper of a quaint little bookstore nestled in the heart of the city, the two best friends celebrating a birthday and the bartender by night, med student by day. Each one had left a mark on you that you could still feel, even if you couldn’t see it.

“No,” you finally answered with a smile. “There’s been no one.”

Ava’s pie came up to the window, packaged up nicely with a small pint of vanilla ice cream. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect as Cody’s truck pulled up right as Beth set the pie and ice cream on the counter to bag them.

Waving goodbye as Ava exited, you returned to your side duties as a few more late night stragglers came into the diner, one taking a seat at the bar and another taking up one of the booths with their partner. You quickly got their orders and brought their drinks before finishing your side work. They ate quickly and left, no doubt on a long journey and eager to get wherever they were going.

As you took your dishes to the back and hopped in to start filling the dishwasher, Beth’s head appeared in the kitchen window to inform you that you had another table. You quickly finished your task and wiped your hands on a towel before exiting to the front.

The booth in the corner near the bathrooms was now being occupied. You glanced outside to see it was now snowing, thick flurries falling to the ground and silently you cursed, knowing you would have to walk home in this. Putting on a polite smile, you pulled out your pad of paper and a pen and walked over to greet the guest.

“Evening,” you said as you reached the table. “What can I get for…” you trailed off as the man looked up. Your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face looking back at you. He looked slightly different from the last time you’d seen him almost a lifetime ago. The same cat-like eyes, piercing and staring into your soul. There was something different about them, something not quite …human.

His hair was different, bright orange but it still suited him somehow. His skin was just as flawless but there was an inhuman glow to it. Almost like yours had been back… then.

“Hello, Y/N,” he said, his voice just the way you remembered all those years ago, back in the nightclub he worked in. “Long time, no see.” You stared back at him, hands shaking.

“K-Kihyun?”

A smile spread across his lips. “Aww, you remember me, I’m touched.”

His words deceived the smile he wore. It was laced with contempt and sarcasm. A thousand questions ran through your mind. Most of them were along the lines of how was he here and how did he even find you?

Kihyun glanced at the pad of paper in your hands before looking back up at you. “Aren’t you going to take my order?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face. You cleared your throat and glanced up to find Beth watching you with a mix of curiosity and concern. You wetted your lips and forced a smile. “What can I get you?” Your question came out forced but you were trying not to lose your shit.

Kihyun barely glanced at the menu before ordering a coffee, black. He kept his eyes on you when ordering and you could have sworn when he said the word black, his eyes flashed black. The entire eye, sclera included, flashed to black. Your heart skipped a beat, your blood running cold but as quickly as it happened, his eyes were back to the same brown.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you asked. Kihyun didn’t move, merely stared at you with those same piercing eyes. “Just the coffee while I decide what else I want,” he said simply and you moved away, thankful to put some space between you. You approached the counter, lifting the flap and moving behind to get the mug of coffee. Beth watched you approach before her eyes went back to Kihyun.

“I don’t like that man,” she whispered softly as you grabbed a clean cup and the handle of the coffee pot. You opted to say nothing, instead moving back to Kihyun’s table, setting the mug down wordlessly before pouring the dark, scalding liquid into the ceramic. He stared up at you as you did and you only looked at him after you finished pouring. “I’ll be right back to take your order,” you said flatly and walked away without giving him a chance to speak.

As you returned to the counter. Beth stopped you. “Do you want me to take this?” she offered, noticing your obvious unease. You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “No,” you croaked before clearing your throat and offering her a smile. “No,” you repeated more clearly. “I got this.”

You swiftly returned to Kihyun, pen in hand. “So, have you decided?” you asked. Kihyun, who was currently looking at the menu, did not look up. Instead he spoke while looking at the menu and keeping his voice low so only you could hear him. “Sit down,” he ordered. You glanced at Beth who was busy cleaning the counter tops.

“I can’t sit down while I’m working,” you told him. Kihyun sighed, eyes shutting for a moment before he opened them and looked up at you. Stifling a whimper, you noticed his eyes. Black surrounding red irises. “Sit. Down,” he ordered again, his voice not sounding like his own. There was something terrifying about it and you did as he said, taking a seat across from him at the booth.

His eyes went back to normal and he smiled at you as he reached over to grab a couple of the creamers kept in a small dish on the table. “It’s been a while,” he noted as he opened the creamers one by one and poured them into the black liquid. You said nothing, watching as he stirred the cream into his coffee. “Six years?” he asked as he grabbed a couple packets of sugar, ripping them open and dumping their contents into the swirling liquid. “I-I lost count,” you whispered, watching his movements.

Kihyun looked up at you as he stirred the coffee, mixing the sugar and cream into the blackness, watching it turn light brown instead. “You’re looking well,” he said as he set the spoon down on his napkin and brought the coffee up to his lips and inhaled. “Very well, in fact.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. “Have you decided on your order?” you asked softly, noticing Beth in the background turn to watch your exchange with scrutiny. Kihyun, despite not turning his head once, took notice of Beth's change in demeanor.

“If she disrupts us, I won’t hesitate to kill everyone in this diner,” he warned, eyes flashing dangerously. “This is between us.” You glanced at Beth who started to walk forward but you waved her off, dismissing her and signalling you were fine. Beth nodded but still watched on with concern. Kihyun took a sip of his coffee and sighed. “Much better,” he said.

You swallowed thickly, watching as he set the mug down and looked up to meet your gaze, his expression blank. “I’d like the breakfast platter,” he finally said. “Eggs scrambled, bacon and sausage, toast on white bread, potatoes instead of grits, and two buttermilk pancakes,” he continued. You quickly scribbled all of that down and got up. As you passed, he reached out, grabbing your wrist tightly.

“Once you put that order in, come back. We have a lot to talk about and tell no one what I said. I will not hesitate to kill every single person in this diner,” he said in a dangerously low voice. Once you nodded wordlessly, he allowed your wrist to slip from his grip and you hurried over to where Beth was starting a fresh pot of coffee. You quickly rang in Kihyun’s order.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Beth asked in a low voice, leaning in so only you could hear her. “Mhm,” you answered with a nod. “That man gives me a bad feeling. Should we call Bart? I know it’s late but he’s on shift, maybe his presence will—” You shook your head. “No,” you said quickly. “I-I know him.”

Beth’s eyes widened. “You know that guy?” she asked. You nodded. “He’s someone I haven’t seen in a long time. I’m just shocked. I never expected to see anyone I know so far out here in the middle of nowhere,” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. Beth’s concerned expression changed immediately. “You looked uncomfortable earlier so I thought something was wrong,” she replied. You shook your head. “No, just really surprised to see him all the way out here. It’s been years since I’ve seen him.”

Beth’s smile widened. “Well, go catch up with him!” she urged. “I got the rest of these orders. I’ll call you when his order comes up.” You thanked Beth and returned to Kihyun’s booth, taking a seat across from him as he took another sip from his mug and glanced outside.

The snow was falling heavier now, white blanketing the parking lot save for the tracks of tires that had driven into the lot for either gas or the diner. You wondered whether Kihyun had a car out there. “You’re a good liar,” he said finally in a low tone. You glanced at him to find him already watching you.

“Tricking your coworker into believing I’m not a threat. No different than the way you tricked me six years ago, is it?” he asked, tilting his head. Your breath caught in your throat. “About that,” you quickly tried to explain yourself. “I was trapped in this deal. I had no choice. It was that or death.” Kihyun sighed, leaning back against the back of his seat.

“If it was just casual sex, I could have understood. I wanted you so much back then. When you sat down at my bar, all I could think about was bending you over it and taking you right then and there, my job be damned. I wanted you so fucking bad,” he said, leaning forward, placing a hand on the table as he stared you down.

“But I decided that I should wait. Maybe get to know you better. So I went home. I went home and I was good. And then,” he hesitated, staring into your eyes, his gaze burning into you. “You infiltrated my dreams. My mind. You played with me,” he hissed, his hostile tone making you wince. “You fucking played with me and then disappeared leaving behind only a trace of you which I later learned was your mark. You fucking marked me. And then they came for me.”

Your eyes widened. “They what?” you whispered. “They came for me,” Kihyun repeated. “Said they were coming to collect.” Your stomach dropped as the realization dawned on you what he was saying. “That’s… not possible,” you whispered. “They said the deal was off and the marks were gone.” Kihyun’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what they told you?” he asked, a scoff escaping him.

“How naive have you become?”

You looked up at him before leaning forward. “I was told by the Queen of Hell herself that the deal was off. They never should have come for you.” Kihyun scoffed once more. “And demons are always so truthful, right?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and you knew what he was implying. “I never once lied to you,” you snapped, making sure to keep your voice down. “I never lied to you. We barely even spoke,” you added. “A little flirting and light banter but I never once lied to you.”

Kihyun snorted as he grabbed the mug of coffee and lifted it to take another sip. “You lied by omission,” he countered. “You never told me that you were there to put some sort of demonic hit out on me.” You winced at his tone. It was icy much like the air outside. “I was in a bind,” you explained. “I wanted to be free and the only way to do that was to collect the souls of 10 men. I was supposed to kill you.”

Kihyun raised his eyes to meet yours, a dark and sinister look on his face.

“When I’m finished with you, you’ll wish you had killed me.”

Before you could respond, Beth called your name. Looking up, you met her gaze and excused yourself, getting up and walking over to the counter where Beth set a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and toast and another plate with two buttermilk pancakes. “Everything okay over there?” she asked, checking in and under any other circumstances, you would appreciate it. But you were afraid she was going to catch on if she kept watching. “Yeah, we’re just talking about the past,” you told her. “You don’t have to worry,” you added. “If it looks like things are getting heated, it’s fine. He’s harmless.”

Beth nodded and you thanked her, moving to carry the plates over to Kihyun, setting them down in front of him. “The breakfast platter. Anything I can get you?” you asked in a normal voice. Kihyun looked up at you and you felt your stomach twisted at the way he looked at you. It wasn’t unlike how he’d looked at you all those years ago.

“Could you be a doll and refill my coffee?” he asked, showing you the empty mug. You nodded wordlessly but before you could walk away, he grabbed your wrist to stop you before sliding his hand down to yours, taking it and bringing it to his face. Your heart raced as he pressed your palm against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “Get yourself a mug while you’re at it,” he added softly.

You glanced up to see Beth was watching and it suddenly made sense. He was putting on a show. “Fresh coffee, coming right up,” you said, pulling your hand away from him and walking over to the counter, slipping behind it and moving to the coffee pot, grabbing the pot and a clean mug. “That didn’t look like ‘nothing,’” Beth said softly as she watched you. You looked over at her, forcing a smile.

“It’s complicated,” you replied. “You told Ava you’ve never been in love,” she countered. “And I haven’t,” you answered. “I’ve never been in love.” Beth’s eyes wandered over to where Kihyun sat eating. “He’s clearly harboring something for you,” she said. You shook your head. “Maybe lust,” you answered. You looked over, meeting her quizzical gaze. “Like I said,” you continued. “It’s complicated.”

You left the counter and returned to Kihyun, pouring more coffee into his mug before setting the clean one down and pouring the black liquid into it. You returned to the counter, setting the pot down which Beth took and placed back on the warmer. You returned to the table as the last guest left the diner, opening the door, letting in a blast of cold wintry air.

You walked faster and sat down across from Kihyun as Beth cleared the other table, wiping the surface down and returned to the counter before disappearing into the back. “And then there were two,” Kihyun said softly. He held out a piece of bacon. “Bacon?” he asked, offering it to you. With a perplexed look, you shook your head, declining his offer.

“What do you want?” you finally asked as he ate. “Why are you here?”

Kihyun swallowed his food before taking a drink of his coffee which he had mixed more cream and sugar into while you left yours black. “I thought it was obvious,” Kihyun said as he set the mug down and looked up to meet your gaze. “I want to settle the score.”

Your blood ran cold at his admission. ‘Settle the score? What does that mean?’

“Wh-what does that mean?” you asked softly. “It means,” Kihyun started. “That I want to settle the score. Do you have any idea what happened to me? To all of us?” You shivered slightly. You knew the inner workings of the circles of hell. You knew exactly what happened to the souls unfortunate enough to be sent there.

“They tortured us. I was tortured. Made to endure horrible, physical pain, for a thousand years,” he explained. “All because of you.” You fought back the urge to cry, refusing to meet his eyes. He’d been through the same thing you had. Inhuman torture for a millennium until they gave you a choice. “And then one day, they offered me a choice,” Kihyun continued as he finished the food on his plate and pushed it aside, pulling the pancakes towards him and starting to cut them up.

“I could either continue to endure the torture for eternity,” he said. “Or join their ranks,” you finished for him, making him look up at you. “It’s the same choice they gave me,” you explained, raising your gaze to meet his. “I was also tortured but the difference between us is that I was tortured for thousands of years. Not a thousand. Thousands. Three millenia passed before they offered me the choice.”

Kihyun stared at you as you recounted the torture, the physical pain. “They…” you trailed off. “They punish you until you have no choice. They do it until they know you’ll break and accept their offer. Anything is better than the knives, the hooks, the burning…” you trailed off again, looking down at the mug of hot coffee in your hands, steam slowly rising from the surface.

“Anything is better than that.”

Kihyun leaned back, setting his fork down. “Three thousand years, huh?” he asked. You looked up at him, fresh tears pooling in your eyes. “Three thousand fucking years,” you hissed. “They sliced and stripped bits of my skin away, leaving the muscle exposed. Dug hooks into my flesh and hung me up like a slab of meat. Pulled teeth one by one, ripped finger and toe nails off one by one until I was little more than a lump of meat and then they did it all over again. Whips, hooks, spears, knives, acid baths. I experienced it all,” you explained as Kihyun stared at you.

“So forgive me for choosing to end my suffering. I never would have had to mark you had Sam not been following me that day,” you muttered. Kihyun tilted his head to the side. “Sam?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. You looked up at him, a single tear falling from your eye and down your cheek.

Kihyun leaned forward, reaching out to take your chin in his hand before wiping the tear away. He sat back against the booth. “Who is Sam?” he asked. You let out a sigh. “He was Lily’s husband. The Father of all Incubi,” you explained. “Lilith is the Mother.” Kihyun nodded slowly. “I know Lily. I’ve never heard of Sam,” he replied.

“Sam, or Samael as he was also known, was Lily’s husband,” you started. “He was following me one day, I don’t know why, but saw me being cornered by a group of human men. This was after I’d already accepted my life as a succubus and I was in danger. I blacked out and when I came to, I’d slaughtered all the men. Sam saw me and threatened to tell Lucy,” you continued, recalling the moment when you were caught.

“In exchange for not telling Lucy what I’d done, Sam offered me a deal. Collect 10 human souls for him and he would free me,” you whispered. “I was scared. I didn’t want Lucy to know what I’d done. I thought she would end me or worse, send me back to be tortured for all eternity.” Kihyun nodded slowly, eyes narrowed as he listened to your story.

“So you accepted his deal to collect 10 souls for him?” You nodded wordlessly as he picked up his fork and continued to eat his pancakes. “He gave me 10 human years to collect them. One soul for every year. I never actually collected them. Instead I marked them. I seduced ten men and marked them for Sam to collect. I wasn’t going to be responsible for the actual killing of 10 men.”

Kihyun let out a scoff. “You’re just as guilty. You might as well have killed us,” he spat bitterly. You winced at his sharp words. “Maybe,” you said softly. “But when I met with Sam after the last mark, Lucy and Lily showed up. I’d managed to get a message to them about what was going on and tell them what Sam was doing. I had no idea that Sam was trying to undermine Lucy and was planning to overthrow her and take her throne. Lucy figured it out and in the end, she killed Sam for it.”

Kihyun’s eyes widened slightly. “I thought she was going to kill me, too,” you continued. “I expected it but instead, she told me I was free and that the deal I had made with Sam was null and void and that the marks had been removed. I had no idea that wasn’t true,” you added, looking up to meet Kihyun’s gaze.

“If I had known—”

“What? If you had known, what would you have done?”

You fell silent at his accusations. He was right. Deep down, you knew you would have done nothing. Not against the queen of hell. You merely ran and ran until it was all behind you. “I don’t know,” you whispered. Kihyun sighed, pushing his now empty plate away. “Like I said earlier, I’m here to settle the score,” he explained as he pulled out a black leather wallet and opened it, pulling out a few bills and tossing them down onto the table. He then looked at you.

“Give me your pad and a pen,” he demanded. You looked up at him and quickly pulled out your pad and a pen, handing them over. He flipped to a clear page and scribbled something down. “Come to this address after your shift,” he said as he placed something against the page and closed the pad before giving it and the pen back to you. He got up and you watched as he grabbed his coat from the bench.

It was only when he stood that you could see what he was wearing. A dark blue button down under a black suit jacket and black trousers. He pulled his coat on before pulling a scarf out of his pocket and wrapping it snugly around his neck. “If you don’t show up tonight,” he started as he buttoned his coat, looking down at you. “I’ll be forced to come to your place,” he continued.

“And you really wouldn’t like that.”

With that, he turned and headed for the door, pushing it open and stepping out into the icy wind and snow that was coming down even more. You watched as he walked out past the cars and into the parking lot, following his orange hair until the darkness swallowed him up. You grabbed the plates from the table and took them to the back, coming back for the cups.

Once the table was clear you picked up the money he left and went to ring him out. His total came to barely fifteen dollars but he’d left sixty. You were gobsmacked. He’d given you a 45 dollar tip. You cashed out his bill and put the rest in your apron pocket.

Beth finally returned and the rest of your shift went by without incident but your mind was on Kihyun. He’d tracked you down after 6 years. Did that mean the other nine would come to collect as well? Your thoughts raced as the rest of your shift ticked by, the clock counting down the minutes until you were free.

When your relief finally came in at 3 am, you were beyond terrified to get off work. You went through your side work, trying to extend it as much as possible, prolonging the inevitable but finally, Beth forced you to clock out. Gathering your things from the back, you contemplated not even going home. You remembered the address in the pad and grabbed it from your apron.

As you pulled the pages apart, you found the page and something fell out of it. Whatever he’d stashed among the pages. You bent down to pick it up. It was a crisp 100 dollar bill. He’d folded it and stashed it in your pad of paper. You picked it up and pocketed it.

When you left, the snow had let up slightly but the ground was still covered and you were going to have to walk in it. Beth offered to give you a ride but your home was in the opposite direction and you didn’t want her to risk it. You started the long walk, snow crunching under your feet as you walked.

The silence was deafening and eerie. Snowy nights always managed to creep you out because of the lack of sound and activity. You shrank in on yourself some more as you walked, trying to preserve the heat. As you neared your home, you wondered if this was to be your last night on this Earth.

Turning and walking down the snow-covered dirt road to your home was quiet and the dim yellow street light at the end of your driveway bounced off the snow, providing a little more light than usual but even so, you still pulled your phone out of your purse and turned the flashlight on to complete the walk.

You reached your small cabin, climbing the steps and pulling out your keys to unlock the door. Once inside, you removed your shoes and unbuttoned your coat, pulling it off and hanging it by the door. You moved through the cabin, turning on the lights and moving to the fireplace. You were about to start a fire when you remembered what Kihyun had said.

Instead, you moved to your bedroom, slowly stripped out of your work uniform and instead of pulling on your pajamas, you changed into some thermal base layers. You bundled up until you were confident you weren’t going to freeze on the walk to wherever you were going. You pulled out the paper and your phone, putting the address into the maps app to find out where you were going.

It was about a 20 minute walk from your place. Glancing at the clock, you sighed. It was nearing 4 am. Deciding it would be better to just listen, you pulled your boots over your layered socks before putting on your coat, your scarf, a hat, and ear muff for good measure. You checked the directions on your phone once more before pocketing the device and slipping on a pair of gloves.

You exited the cabin, locking the doors and headed down the steps, pulling a flashlight you grabbed from the shelf and turning it on. The walk was silent from your cabin to the road and from there you followed the directions, walking down the side of the road in the opposite direction of the diner.

As you walked, you wondered if you should be doing this or if you should just run. You had to admit, the idea of just leaving everything behind and running sounded appealing but knowing what you did about demons, it would only be a matter of time before you were tracked down again and next time, Kihyun might not be so courteous. No, this was the best course of action.

After about twenty minutes, you checked your phone to see you were close to your destination. You followed the directions. Your path took you to a fence and metal gate with a sign that read ‘no trespassing’ and you instantly were worried about getting caught by security. You found a gap in the fencing and squeezed through it, making your way across the abandoned complex until a large square shaped building came into view, appearing out of the darkness.

It looked to be a school of sorts. You stared up at it, taking note of the broken glass windows that littered the facade of the building until you noticed a dim light coming from one of the top windows that wasn’t broken. ‘Is that him?’ you wondered. ‘Only one way to find out.’

You walked towards the door, wondering if you’d even be able to find a way in but luck it would seem was on your side and you found the front door propped open despite the heavy, rust covered chains looped through the metal door handles and poorly holding them together.

You managed to wriggle your way through the doors and out of the wind. It was still cold but being inside and out of the snow and wind made a huge difference. You walked down the central hall, looking for a lift or some stairs. Some way to get up to the top floor where you’d seen the light coming from. At the back of the hall, you found a door and pulled it open, the bottom scraping against the tile floor until you were able to peer inside, shining your light in to find a set of stairs.

You pushed your way inside and started climbing them, taking care to tread lightly. You kept climbing the flights of stairs, stopping part of the way up on the landings to catch your breath. When you finally reached the top, you walked down the hall until it reached an intersection. To your left was nothing but darkness but to your right you could see a faint light.

You started in that direction carefully. As you inspected the walls, your suspicions on the building being an old school were confirmed with yellowed pieces of paper, drawings long since faded away hung from old, crumbling bulletin boards. Approaching the door, you could hear faint music coming from the room beyond. You reached the door at the end of the hall, finding it cracked and carefully pushed it open.

Inside, the room was bathed in the dim golden glow of a lamp. The walls indicated this was an old classroom. The walls had a few old posters, all faded with age. As you looked around, you caught sight of the source of the light and the music. All the old classroom furniture, the desks, chairs, teachers desk and filing cabinets had been pushed into the middle of the room, creating a sort of partition wall. On the other side was a makeshift apartment.

There was a table and chairs, a couch and table where the source of the music sat, a record player. Two end tables on either side of the couch had lamps that were the source of the light. Beyond the living area was a bed that looked well slept in and surprisingly comfortable. There was also a cast iron stove with a fire in the corner near the bed providing some much needed warmth.

You looked around but couldn’t seem to find the occupant which you could only assume was Kihyun as he had given you this address. As you moved further into the room, the sound of rustling could be heard. You looked around for the source of the noise but saw no sign of movement. Straining your years, you could tell it was coming from the corner opposite the cast iron stove.

Upon moving closer, you could see there was an opening in the wall which you could only assume was a closet. The rustling grew as you neared the open doorway. Glancing around, you saw something metallic lying on one of the old desks and grabbed it, realizing immediately it was a pipe. You held it tightly in your hand as you approached the closet, heart beat rising as you drew closer.

With one final surge of confidence, you rounded the corner and held the pipe high above your head but found the closet was empty. No sign of anything alive. As you lowered the pipe a voice rang out from behind you.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped, letting out a panicked yelp and turned quickly, finding a pair of familiar eyes staring at you. You raised a hand to your chest, placing it over your heart where you could feel it hammering in your chest. Kihyun gave you a puzzled look, noticing the lead pipe in your hand. He walked towards you slowly as you tried to regain your composure.

Carefully and gently, he took the pipe from you, keeping a hold on your hand as he tossed the metal aside with a dull thud as it hit the floor that was littered in a layer of newspaper. “Come here,” he said softly, guiding you over to the couch and sat you down, kneeling in front of you and watching as you gained control of your breathing.

“I see you still know how to make an entrance,” he joked as you tried to will your heart to calm down. You let out a nervous laugh at his attempt to amuse you. “I could say the same thing to you,” you quipped back. A smile spread across his face. It was completely different from the ones he’d given you earlier in the diner. Something about his demeanor had changed since then.

“You came,” you finally noted, not moving from his crouched position before you. “You didn’t really give me much of a choice,” you reminded him. Kihyun’s smile turned into a frown. It wasn’t a scowl or out of anger, more out of disappointment though you couldn’t fathom why he would feel that way.

“I uh, actually want to apologize,” he said softly, lowering his gaze as he reached up to scratch the back of his head. You stared at him, silence permeating the air as you waited for an explanation for his apology. “When I entered the diner earlier, I was angry. I was livid. I wanted to ruin everything for you,” he explained, a hint of anguish in his voice.

He looked at your hand, the one he held in his hand, and slowly removed your glove, exposing your skin. With the glove off, he turned your hand over and looked at your palm and wrist, taking note of the faint scarring. He glanced up at you, a look of surprise in his eyes. You looked away from him, from the reminders of your past.

“But I can see now you’ve suffered as much, if not more than, me,” he continued softly. “We’re not so different.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as he ran his thumb over the scarring on your wrist. “When did this happen?” he asked quietly. He fell silent after asking, the sound of the fire in the stove being the only sound you could hear. He was waiting for you to answer him.

“A few months after Lucy set me free,” you finally answered, your voice breaking. “I… was wracked with guilt,” you continued. “Guilt for the atrocities I committed while in service to them. I was plagued with terrible night terrors. I couldn’t stand it. I tried to…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath to keep from crying. Kihyun looked up at you. “I was unsuccessful,” you said, blinking away the tears.

You met his gaze and the tears came back. “I am so sorry for what happened to you,” you said, your voice breaking even more. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” The sobs you’d been trying to hold back finally broke through and you doubled over, the tears finally flowing freely. Kihyun didn’t move. Instead, he reached up, placing a hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair. “All I wanted was revenge,” he said softly. “Wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine but I don’t think that will make things right.”

Another sob escaped you, your body shivering. Whether it was from the cold or from your emotions, you couldn’t tell. You felt his hand move from the back of your head to cradle your chin and lift your head until your eyes met his. “I don’t think I need to tell you that I’ve changed my mind,” he said softly. “You’ve suffered enough.”

Through broken sobs and tears you nodded, clearing your throat before speaking. “We both have.” Kihyun took your face in his hands. “I promise you right here and now that after tonight, I won’t come back. I’ll leave you to live your life,” he whispered, wiping away your tears. “But you must do something for me.” Your eyes looked between his eyes, wondering what he could possibly need from you.

“Don’t fight me,” he said softly. “Give in to me.”

You felt your worries and anguish slowly melt away, replaced by a growing desire as you stared into his eyes. You knew this feeling. You knew this tactic. You’d used it plenty of times. He was clearing your mind in an attempt to seduce you. Fighting against it, you pulled back from his grip. “You don’t have to do that,” you stated quietly. “If you want me, just tell me.”

You could see his lips quirk into a small smile. “Fine then,” he said, sitting up on his knees, grabbing the front of your coat and pulling you towards him. “I want you, Y/N. Since laying eyes on you in the diner, I’ve wanted you. I need you. Please let me—”

You cut him off by pulling him into a kiss, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as his hands fumbled with the buttons of your coat. You pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He broke away a moment later, still fumbling with your coat. “You’re wearing too many layers,” he mumbled as he managed to open your coat. “It’s freezing outside,” you fired back, letting go of him long enough for him to push your heavy winter coat off of you.

You kicked off your boots as he pulled at your layers, pulling off the first sweatshirt and tossing it aside. Your pants joined them before he leaned in, capturing your lips in another heated kiss as you tugged at his clothes, undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Lift your hips for me,” he murmured, fingers pulling at your leggings. You did as he asked and he pulled the fleece lined material down your legs, tossing them aside before going for your top, the final layer.

He pulled it off over your head and dropped on the growing pile of clothes. His eyes raked over your form, taking in a sight he hadn’t seen in nearly six years. You took his momentary lapse to finish pulling the buttonholes of his shirt loose off the buttons and push the dark blue fabric off him. He was similar but at the same time, it was entirely new. It was clear that as an incubus, his physique had changed slightly, he was more muscular but still the same lean frame you remembered all those years ago.

Kihyun’s hands moved up your thighs to your waist. His words failed him as he continued to drink in your appearance. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he finally whispered, one of his hands moving up your body, ghosting over your chest to your neck. His fingers danced along your skin until his hand cupped the back of your neck and pulled you forward, crashing his lips against yours.

As he parted your lips, you let out a soft groan, your core aching to be touched and your arousal starting to pool in your panties. You felt his tongue slip past your lips, finding yours and tasting you. Your hands moved of their own accord, sliding down his torso to his pants and starting to undo them. Kihyun moved to grab your hands, holding them before he pulled back to look at you.

“Sit back,” he ordered. You did as he said, leaning back against the plush of the couch cushions as he released your hands and leaned in, pressing feather light kisses against your collar and moving down, leaving a path of kisses down the valley of your breast. His lips traveled further, skipping over your clothed sex as he grabbed your hips and dragged them to the edge of the couch.

He glanced up at you through his lashes before turning his head and kissing the inside of your thigh. Your head fell back as you felt his lips and tongue against your skin until he sank his teeth into the soft flesh and you let out a gasp that quickly turned into a moan as he sucked lightly.

Your hand moved to his hair, combing through the orange locks as his lips moved towards the apex of your thighs. Your breath caught as he neared your aching heat but he teased you, skipping over it again in favor of kissing and teasing the inside of your other thigh.

You squirmed under him, chest rising and falling as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “K-Kihyun,” you sighed, tugging gently at his locks. You felt him smile against your skin. “Patience,” he murmured as he looked up at you. “I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied but you have to be patient.” You let out a low groan of frustration but followed it immediately with a gasp as you felt his tongue press flat against your cloth covered cunt.

He added pressure, pressing your panties against your throbbing clit. Instinctively, your legs spread and hips bucked towards him. Kihyun pulled back, watching your reaction as you whined, hips chasing his mouth. He chuckled softly and slipped his hands under your backside, grabbing your panties and pulling them down. You lifted your hips without prompting to help him get them off faster.

Once discarded, Kihyun took his time, inspecting your wet sex, spreading your folds, exposing you to the cool air. “I wonder if you taste just as good as I remember,” he murmured, not giving you a chance to respond before his tongue was dragging over your clit, making your body jolt. He groaned against you, tongue teasing the sensitive bud before lightly sucking.

You gasped out a curse, hands moving to his hair as he chuckled and pulled back. “Don’t stop,” you whined. Kihyun shifted, lifting your thighs over his shoulders before diving back in, his lips attaching to your clit, the tip of his tongue swirling around it. The sudden onslaught had you gasping, back arching off the couch. One hand carded through his hair, gripping it while the other found purchase on the couch cushion.

Each pass of his tongue over your clit had your body shaking. Your thighs were starting to tremble when he pulled back, ignoring your protests as he kissed up your stomach to your chest. He quickly undid the clasp of your bra and removed it, not caring where it landed. His mouth was on you immediately, taking one of your pert nipples into his mouth.

You felt his hand dip between your thighs, the tips grazing your folds before spreading them and gathering your wetness. Without warning, he slowly pushed two fingers into you aching heat, giving you some relief as his tongue continued to tease and circle your nipple. Once his fingers were buried past his knuckles he started to move them slowly, scissoring slightly before pumping them in and out of you.

It was a slow, torturous pace that had your hips chasing his touch. Kihyun never gave in, keeping the same pace as he suckled on the skin of your breast, letting your saliva-covered nipple fall from his mouth. He left a trail of wet kisses up your collar, kissing up the side of your neck and to the spot just under your ear. His fingers curled inside you, making you moan loudly. You heard him chuckle breathily against your ear.

“You sound so pretty,” he whispered. “Just like how I remember.” At this, he picked up the pace, fingers moving faster in and out of your sopping hole. You let out whimper, your grip on his hair tightening as your back arched, pressing your chest against his. “If you think this feels good, wait until I’m filling you with my cock instead, sweetheart,” he mumbled, nose bumping against the shell of your ear.

You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers as he moved them even fast, stopping to curl them deep inside you. “You want that?” he whispered. “Want me to stuff my cock in this tight pussy? Want me to split you open?” You nodded fervently, whimpers and moans of his name falling from his lips as you slowly came apart on his fingers. “Beg for it,” he growled in your ear. “Beg me to fuck you.”

A cry escaped your lips as you felt him press his thumb against your clit, rubbing in tandem to the fingers thrusting inside you. “Come on, baby,” he muttered. “Beg me to fuck you and I will.” You tried to refrain from it, not wanting to give in so easily but when he slammed his fingers into you harder, rougher, making you cry out, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“P-please,” you gasped. “Please fuck me.” Kihyun chuckled against your ear, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. “Please fuck me, what?” he cooed. He hadn’t given you instruction for this or any direction so you went with your instincts. You tugged his head back to force him to look at you. “Please fuck me, daddy.”

The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he pulled his fingers from your heat. His movements were quick, standing up and pulling you up. He grabbed you by the neck, carefully guiding you towards the bed where he forced you back onto it. You stared up at him as he finished your work of removing his pants and kicked them off along with his shoes. He climbed onto the bed, following as you scooted back until you were against the pillows.

Kihyun settled between your thighs, staring down at you with darkened eyes. “I won’t go easy on you,” he said softly, hands pressed against the mattress on either side of your head. “But I’m not going to hurt you this time.” You nodded, looking up at him, feeling his hot and hard cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. “I won’t break,” you whispered, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I promise.”

Kihyun dipped down, taking your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss at the same time he reached between you, guiding the head of his cock to your slit. He slowly rubbed against you, coating the tip with your arousal and spreading some of the precum that had gathered. “Safe word?” he asked, making your heart skip a beat. He hadn’t asked for one last time, granted you didn’t need one. It was strange having someone ask you. You wracked your brain for a moment before a smile spread across your face.

“Crimson,” you answered. Kihyun’s confused expression dissipated and without warning, he pushed into you, his cock slowly spreading your walls and filling you. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling. There were obvious changes to his body after becoming an incubus and this was one of them. His cock was bigger than it had been when he was human.

You choked out a moan as he continued to push into you, giving you every inch of his cock you could take until he finally stilled, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “F-fuck,” he cursed, head hanging as he tried not to pull back and slam into you, instead letting your body adjust to him. “You’re much b-bigger than I remember,” you choked out, making him chuckle. “Sorry about that,” he mused, lifting his head to meet your gaze. You shook your head. “D-don’t be,” you replied. “Feels good.”

Kihyun’s brow rose and he slowly pulled back, his cock sliding out of you before he thrust back into you slowly, making you moan loudly and unrestrained. “Yeah?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Feels good?” You nodded quickly. “Yes,” you gasped. “Feels so good.” Kihyun repeated the same motion before setting a slow but steady pace, thrusting into you carefully.

“Kihyun, please,” you begged. “You can go harder. I’m not gonna break.”

With your encouragement, Kihyun obliged, pounding into you a little harder, a little rougher. You cried out, head thrown back as he rocked into you, his breath shaking as he was clearly holding back still. “Kihyun,” you whined. “Please don’t hold back.” He shook his head, eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned, his voice barely audible of the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

“Please,” you whispered, pulling him down into a kiss. “Please fuck me,” you whispered against his lips. Kihyun’s resolve melted immediately and he pulled back, grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing them down against your stomach as he threw all inhibitions aside, slamming into you roughly, making you scream out in pleasure. “Oh fucking hell,” you gasped, feeling his cock hit your cervix with each thrust. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out.

Kihyun let out a growl as he held you down, his cock pistoning in and out of you at an inhuman speed. He was struggling to keep the pace, his thrusts becoming erratic. He let go of your thighs and put his full weight on you, keeping your legs in place as he thrust his cock down into you.

The only sounds filling the room were your wanton moans, his grunts, and the wet sound of his cock pounding your tight hole. “Fuck, I have to stop,” he groaned. “M’gonna cum if I don’t.” You shook your head. “No, no, no,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop!”

Kihyun ignored your desperate pleas and pulled out of you with a growl. You whined at the sudden emptiness. Kihyun sat back on his heels, breathing heavily. “Sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t want it to end.” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “It’s fine,” you gasped. Kihyun stared down at you, moving to hover over you, taking you in a searing kiss.

You pulled him down, chest to chest, kissing him back. Your lips parted and his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth. You weren’t sure how long it lasted but you kept kissing him and allowing his hands to wander, gripping your thigh, your ass. One of his hands snuck between your bodies, cupping your chest. He pulled back, pressing light kisses down your neck to your collar. His hand continued to knead and squeeze your breast until he lifted his head.

“Roll over for me,” he finally said and pushed himself up. You did as he asked, rolling onto your stomach. His hands immediately smoothed over your backside, squeezing and spreading your cheeks. You let out a giggle as he lightly smacked your ass, watching it bounce back. “I don’t think I told you how much I love you body,” he said softly as he grabbed your hips and pulled you up onto your knees. You pushed your chest up and peered over your shoulder at him.

“No,” he said quickly, placing a hand on your back and pushing your chest down so your ass was up. You stayed like that for him, head turned to the side and cheek pressed against the bed as his hands ran along your sides and back to your ass again. You felt him spread your cheeks once more and let out a gasp as you felt something wet against your hole. “What would you say if I said I wanted to fuck this hole?” he asked, thumb spreading the drop of spit he left over your hole, smearing it around the skin.

Before you could respond, you felt him push his thumb into your ass and you let out a groan, fingers digging into the sheets. “Would you like that?” he murmured, grabbing his cock in his free hand and rubbing it against your cunt. “You want me to fuck your ass, baby?” You moaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into your pussy, wall eagerly sucking him back in. He kept his thumb in your ass as he bottomed out in your pussy, digging deeper into your walls and his cock pressing fully against your cervix.

“Maybe after I’ve used up this tight little pussy,” he muttered as he pulled back slowly, snapping his hips forward and filling you in a single thrust. You gasped, moaning out as he set a much faster and more relentless pace. He kept his thumb in your ass as he fucked you, using his free hand to hold your hips and pull you back against him as he buried his cock into you.

“C’mon, baby,” he urged. “Meet me halfway.”

You pushed back against him, driving his cock deep into you, making you cry out as the tip hit your cervix again. “Fuck,” Kihyun groaned, stilling as he guided you back on his cock, making you fuck yourself on him. “Just like that, kitten,” he whispered, watching his cock disappear inside you, a faint ring of your juices at the base of the shaft.

“Keep going,” he said, tightening his grip on your hip until it was almost bruising. “That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my cock. Good girl.” His eyes fluttered shut as you moved, ass hitting his hips but his thumb stayed firmly in place. He started to meet your thrusts, moaning when your walls clenched around him. “Yes, fuck,” he groaned. “That’s it baby. Keep going. You got this.”

You whimpered into the sheets, drool falling from your parted lips but you couldn’t be bothered to care, not when his cock felt so good, was hitting all the right places, and stretching you so deliciously. The feeling of his thumb buried in your ass was adding to the pleasure. “Come on,” he urged through gritted teeth. “I know you can go faster than that.”

You lifted your head but kept your chest against the bed as your grip on the sheets tightened and you pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts and making you see stars. Your face contorted in pleasure as your orgasm approached quickly. “F-fuck,” you gasped. “M’gonna cum!” Kihyun let out a strangled moan, feeling your walls constrict around him. “Let go,” he moaned. “Come for me, baby.”

You let out a high pitched moan as your orgasm washed over you. Thighs shaking as waves of ecstasy rolled over you, heat spreading throughout your body from the tips of your fingers to your toes. A blanket of euphoria enveloped you, white stars filling your vision as you came. Your climax spurred Kihyun’s on as he fucked you through most of it before he finally came with a growl, burying his cock as deep into you as he could, thick ropes of hot cum filling your cunt and painting your walls.

You continued to clench rhythmically around his cock, milking him for every drop he had and emptying his entire load into you until it started to spill out of you. The feeling of his sticky seed sliding down the inside of your thighs already coated in your own release sent you over the edge again and you came once more, hole pulsating with him still inside you and pushing more of his cum out of you.

Kihyun sighed, pulling his thumb from your ass and running his hands up your back to your shoulders. He gave you a sharp, deep thrust, making you cry out. He wasn’t finished. His cock still hard and throbbing inside you, he started a relentless and merciless pace, pounding into you as if his life depended on it. After just a few moments of this, he sent you spiraling with another orgasm before his second release exploded, filling you much more violently than before. Your stomach ached as his seed seeped into your womb, filling it with an impossible amount.

By the time he finally finished, there was a small bulge just under your navel and the inside of your thighs were coated in his thick release. He slowly pulled out of you, more of his cum spilling out of your spent hole until his cock finally slipped free and you winced. Your body slumped over as Kihyun got off the bed and disappeared for a moment.

When he returned, he had a cloth and was wiping the inside of your thighs, cleaning the remnants of his mess. Once that was done, he climbed onto the bed, pulling back the covers and laying you in the depths, covering both of your bodies up. “Kihyun?” you called softly and he pulled you close. “Yes?” he asked just as softly. “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

He hesitated to answer. The truth was no, he would not and somewhere deep inside yourself, you knew that but you didn’t want him to leave. You wanted him to stay. Opting to feed into your delusion, Kihyun pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes,” he whispered into your hair. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

You settled into his arms, eyes shutting as sleep took over your form and everything went black.

The snow crunched underfoot as Kihyun walked towards the building, looking up at the high rise. The city wasn’t his favorite place and he hated it ever since his return to the surface. The building was unoccupied, allowing him to climb the stairs from the ground floor to the top. He climbed the last flight of stairs, pushing open the door leading to the roof.

The wind whipped around, blowing his coat in the wind as he walked towards the figure standing near the edge. He stopped a few feet away, squinting in the brightness of the snow blanketing the city. The skies were a dull gray, conveying the feelings stirring deep inside him. The contempt he felt for the person who stood with their back towards him.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” Kihyun said plainly. “I’m done playing your game.”

The figure didn’t move but Kihyun didn’t need them to, he’d said his piece. He started to turn but the figure finally spoke.

“You’re done?” they asked. Kihyun turned his head slowly to look at their back. “You think you can just decide when to listen to orders?” The figure turned to face him. Her black and yellow eyes gave him the chills but what scared him even more was the wicked grin on her face. “I told you to collect,” she said, her voice dangerously low.

Kihyun narrowed his eyes. “No,” he snapped. “Get someone else to do your dirty work. I’m done.” As he started to turn away, he was suddenly grabbed around the neck by a blackened, clawed hand and lifted off the roof.

“You’re done when I say you are,” a deep, animalistic and demonic voice said. It sounded like a thousand voices were speaking at once. “Go fuck yourself,” Kihyun choked out, grabbing at the hand around his throat. “Sorry,” she said with a sarcastic grin. “You aren’t my type.” She dropped him, stepping over him as he crumpled to the ground.

“Don’t make me tell you twice. Get. It. Done.”

Kihyun got to his feet and started after her. “Lucy!” he shouted, making her stop and turn to look at him. “I said find someone else,” he growled as he reached her. She glared up at him. “How dare you—” Kihyun caught her hand as she tried to swing at him. The woman’s eyes widened as Kihyun overpowered her, throwing her back across the roof, following as she rolled and quickly scrambled up.

“I told you,” Kihyun said, pushing her back, making her stumble towards the edge of the building. “Find someone else. I am done.” Lucy stopped at the edge, glancing back at the city below. “I’ve collected plenty of souls for you,” Kihyun started. “Pick someone else to be your little lap dog. I’ve served my time.” Lucy glared at him again, eyes narrowing. “I am the Queen of Hell,” she snapped. “You are my servant. You will do as your queen commands.”

Kihyun ignored her and started to turn away. Again, Lucy lashed out but Kihyun was prepared, easily dodging her attempt to grab him once more and simply pushed her. The woman’s eyes widened in shock as she struggled to maintain her balance but Kihyun gave her one final push, shoving her over the edge. As she toppled over, plummeting towards the city below, Kihyun watched her for a moment.

“Long live the queen,” he murmured before turning away and making his way back to the roof access door.

You awoke with a start, eyes snapping open and sitting up quickly. You looked around, finding yourself in familiar surroundings. Your cabin. A wave of sadness washed over you as you looked around. Your clothes were in a pile on the floor next to your bed and you were entirely naked under the covers. A small fire had burned throughout the night and only the embers were still lit.

You shifted, turning towards the rest of the cabin and finding it entirely empty.

‘He lied,’ you thought to yourself. As you started to scoot towards the edge of the bed, you heard a sound you hadn’t picked up on before. The sound of water running. ‘The shower?’ you wondered and slipped out of bed, pulling the sheet with you as you moved towards the bathroom door. You carefully pushed it open to find the room full of steam and the shower running.

You peered in, finding a figure in your shower. You glanced back towards the door and found not only your coat hanging up but another one. Your eyes went to the knife block sitting on the counter in the kitchen and contemplated running to grab one. As you were contemplating this, the glass door to the shower rolled open and a voice called out.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

You turned to find Kihyun looking back at you. All tension disappeared as you stared back at him. “What the…” you trailed off, looking at him in total shock. He smiled at you. “I know I promised I’d be there when you woke up,” he said. “But I really needed a shower.” You let out a laugh of relief. “So, you gonna just stand there or you gonna join me?” he asked, nodding at the sheet you held around your body.

You glanced down and then back up to find a smirk on his face. “Oh,” you said. “Right, lemme just put this back.” Kihyun let out a chuckle as you returned to the bed and braved the cold air of the cabin in your nudity to join him in the shower. You stepped into the stall and shut the door behind you, turning to face him.

Immediately, he enveloped you in a warm, wet embrace, pulling you under the hot stream of water. He peppered your face with kisses. “We only have so much hot water, might as well share it,” he said in between kisses, making you giggle. His lips trailed down the side of your neck. “Already?” you asked as his hands moved, sliding down your wet body. Kihyun chuckled against your skin, pulling back to look at you. “Why not?” he asked softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. “We have all the time in the world.”

Your cheeks burned under his heated gaze, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Eyes fluttering shut, you leaned into his caress before looking up at him. “Yeah, but we don’t have all the hot water in the world.” Kihyun laughed, throwing his head back. “You’re right there,” he said. He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Remind me when we’re done in here to call a contractor out here,” he murmured against your lips.

“Why?” you asked as he pulled back. “If we’re going to live here together, we have to make a few changes,” he answered. “Live here?” you asked. “T-together?” Kihyun’s smile fell. “Do you not want to?” he asked. You shook your head. “No, I do,” you answered quickly. “I just… wasn’t expecting you to actually be here when I woke up.” Kihyun took your face in his hands pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Well, I’m here,” he whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

A smile spread across your face. “Ever?” you asked. He nodded, pulling you closer against his body.

“Never, ever. You’re stuck with me forever.”

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