#who gave him the right to look this good damn

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

seven - m. kaiser

you were seven years old when you first met the piece of trash named michael kaiser.

sitting on the swings alone with a busted violet lip and ripped jeans and scratched up, bloody knees wasn’t considered the ideal invitation for a friendship. but you had mindlessly approached him, sitting on the swing next to him before waving to him.

subhuman garbage looked up, wondering why such a nice girl would be looking at him, talking to him. but he didn’t question it and instead listened to you talk, introducing himself.

“but i don’t like to be called michael, so don’t call me that.”

“got it! you’re mihya then!”

subhuman shit—no, newly named mihya felt his heart skip a beat. no one was ever affectionate enough to give him a nickname, so such an experience made mihya strangely ecstatic. he nodded, a small smile slowly making way onto his swollen lips. “right. im mihya.”

the second time you saw mihya was only a few days later.

he had been sitting on the swings, crying his eyes out. this time he had a nosebleed, angry red marks on his neck, and his hands were nearly purple. you had approached him, your eyebrows knit together.

“mihya? what’s wrong?”

mihya had sniffled before looking up at you. “will you get mad at me…?” he choked out weakly. your jaw dropped, grasping both of his hands.

“mihya, i would never get mad at you!” you exclaimed. “you’re my friend!”

mihya muttered something incoherent before sighing. “…my dad. he gets mad a lot.”

you blinked a few times, your seven year old mind not quite comprehending the situation. but you frowned, looking up at the sky. “oh, i really hate it whenever mama and dad get mad at me. your dad is always mad? that sounds so bad. im so sorry, mihya.”

mihya nodded. “it’s…don’t worry about it.”

one day, after many encounters and at eight years old, you finally spoke your thoughts.

“i think your house is haunted.”

mihya, who had been chewing on garlic and sugar flavored bread from the bakery, stopped mid chew. “why?”

“well, your dad is always mad, and you’re always crying. you’re outside as much as you possibly can, and you don’t wanna be there. that sounds haunted to me. and when you are, you hide from him.” you muttered. “i don’t like that. i don’t like how you’re always crying and hiding.”

mihya hummed, quick to respond. “well, i guess i really got no other choice. i wanna avoid getting hit as much as i can.”

your chest tightened to the point where it hurt, a frown making way onto your face. “i love you, you know that? to the moon and saturn, i really do love you.”

mihya’s heart stopped.

and eight years old, having such a crush probably won’t end good for him. but no one had ever told him that they loved him before, and yet you say it out of nowhere, and to the moon and saturn? he might just die of happiness.

heat spread throughout his cheeks before he squeaked out. “i-i love you…too?” you gave him a toothy grin and gave him a high-five.

at ten years old, you’re on the swings once more, this time with a blue raspberry popsicle in between your lips. mihya has a strawberry flavored one, bought using your money.

“you know, mihya. we should move away forever. or maybe we could be pirates or something. y’know, like from one piece.” you said dreamily.

“that came out of nowhere. why?” mihya replied, tossing his now empty stick into the trash can of the park.

“so that we could get away from your damn father and you won’t have to cry anymore.” you muttered, pouting. “i’ve never even met the guy, and yet i hate him.” you chomped down on the popsicle stick, breaking it in half.

mihya laughed. “yeah? i want to leave too. and it sounds nice to leave with you.”

at fourteen, the news arrived.

you sat on the swings, sobbing into your hands. mihya had come from behind you, his heart aching when he saw your tears. you were the love of his life (you just didn’t know it yet), and your tears hurt him.

“mihya, im moving.”

three words, and yet it wasn’t the usual three words that was like music to mihya’s ears.

he swallowed, tears stinging his own eyes. “to where…?”

“japan. apparently it’s supposed to be a safer environment there or something like that. i have to learn the language and the customs and everything.” you sniffled. “but i don’t want to. i don’t want to leave everything i know. but i mostly don’t want to leave you, mihya.”

mihya wanted to go to your family and interrogate them and to beg them to let you stay. he couldn’t live without you, he wouldn’t be able to survive without the light of his life. you would leave and forget him within a month or two because you have all new friends, and he’ll just be another piece of your forgotten childhood. but you would still be his whole life; you were his first friend, his only real friend.

the only person who he will ever love and the only person who will ever love him.

“right. got it.” mihya replied, his throat dry.

two weeks later, mihya became subhuman piece of shit again.

however, at fifteen, the subhuman was arrested and eventually scouted.

subhuman became kaiser.

at nineteen, kaiser traveled to japan to participate in the still fairly recent blue lock program. although he was interested in blue lock’s new rising player isagi yoichi, he wondered if he could coincidentally see you.

nothing was impossible, after all.

—

for the past five years, you’ve been lonely.

the language barrier was resolved within three years of hard work, but unknown customs and a personality that didn’t match the japanese status quo just made everything worse. for years, you had no friends, you spent lunchtime alone, and worst of all?

you didn’t have mihya in your life.

there were nights when you felt so alone that you would just curl up with your pillow and remember mihya. your mihya. those beautiful seven years spent with him, years that you will never forget.

there was a night where you forgot what he looked like.

panicked and crying, you had opened up your phone immediately too look at a picture of him. after a few minutes of staring, your tears stopped as you memorized his face once more. you never wanted to forget him, not a single bit.

at nineteen and in desperation of college credit and money, you volunteered to be a manager of the blue lock program. ego jinpachi was a strange man, but everything was worth it for the money.

and you couldn’t help but think of your mihya, who you remembered bought a soccer ball for his twelfth birthday and adored it.

for years, you’ve refused to check soccer news out of heartbreak.

after blue lock won against the japanese u20 team, you were given a two week break, and was afterwards immediately shoved into the hell of the neo egoist league.

responsible for helping bastard münchen (“for it’s undeniable potential” said ego, although you really couldn’t care less.), you had walked to the germany wing expecting to have the rest the next few months surrounded by the company of isagi, kurona, yukimiya, hiori, and the others.

and yet when you entered, the first thing you saw was pale blonde hair.

the same that mihya had.

kaiser turned to you, as did the other blue lockers and bastard münchen members.

and finally, kaiser became mihya again.

BASED OFF OF THE TAYLOR SWIFT SONG “seven”

[potatomountain]

C:IU Chapter 1

Act One: Chapter One

Masterlist | Next

Pairing: Poly 0t8 Ateez x fem reader AU: Mafia/detective Genre: 18+ poly romance, action Word Count: 3.5k Summary: "Not the same" Warnings: 18+, mentions of drunken sex, attempted kiss, triggers, panic attack, suggestive AN: Dividers and banner made by me @potatographics. Usual beta readers tagged in masterlist! No editing done!

There was a sense of nostalgia as your phone rang for the dozenth time in the last five minutes, knowing who it was before looking at the screen. With a smile you brought the screen to your ear, nearly avoiding one of the bystanders on the sidewalk. “Hi Ji.” “Finally you pick up! Where are you? You said you would be here ten minutes ago!”

You laughed at the frantic voice on the other side, having missed him. “The distance was a little more than I thought so I left later than I should. I’m walking up now, is he in?”

There was a moment of silence, some shuffling, and then a sigh. “He is and he’s more frantic than I am! He thinks you stood us up.” “Now why would I do that?” You mused, stepping up to the S.K Unit. “He knows I just love him.” The bitterness was still there, no matter what.

Even if you were the one who opted for this. Who asked for this meeting.

Well you did that out of bitterness too.

“I’m here and coming in.” You announced before hanging up and pushing into the familiar precinct.The familiar uniform at the desk, staring up at you in shock before they scrambled to greet you.

Now you didn’t think you looked that different. Was it the outfit?

You weren’t in your old fitted suits of black and white. Hair was colored and shorter, and you were wearing more makeup than you used to but that last bit was a habit by now. Was it the low cut top? The tight mini skirt or the lace stockings? 

You’ve been wearing such things for some time now you hadn’t realized that your old unit would gawk at your appearance. And boy did they gawk.

The second you stepped back in the familiar room with lined desks, heels clicking to a stop with finality, your old unit looked in your direction. Most of them at least.

It was your old Captain who you stared down, capturing his gaze with your own and tilting your head curiously as his eyes skimmed down your length. He swallowed hard.

Good, rub it in his face what he lost.

Smiling sweetly, you finally turned your attention to Jisung and Changbin that flanked you, the latter swooping you up into a hug. “God Damn you look amazing!”

Playfully you swatted at his arm, smile turning coy. “Yeah? I don’t have as many restrictions with my current work so I’ve really branched out. Believe it or not, I do have a gun on me, and not my purse.” You gave a little twirl just to show off the fit some more.

“It’s in the boots right? Otherwise-” Jisung made a face, shaking his head before he pulled you into a hug. You leaned into him happily, truly having missed him since you had barely talked to him since the night of the club.

It had been so long, and so much had happened, you felt a little bad for ignoring them but it hadn’t been safe. 

As if you had time anyways, even your sweet lovers complaining they didn't get to see you.

With a sigh you pulled away from them both, smiling and waving at the two youngest that were in the room, just to have one attached to your waist in the next second. “Hey there Innie. You doing well without me?”

“No.” He buried his face into the crook of your neck, showing his age as the youngest.

“It hasn’t been the same without you. Are you going to come back? It’s been months.” Seungmin chimes in from right behind Jeongin, an expression on his features you weren’t used to, like a kicked puppy.

“She’s not.” Chan finally barked out before you could answer, his tone enough to get the others to back away and clear the way for him to approach you. “You asked to meet. Business or pleasure?”

When he looked like he wanted to bend you over the nearest object and probably hate fuck you, you couldn’t help but play coy. “Business and personal. Can we talk in your office?”

With a sharp nod he turned on his heel and headed to his office, pushing the white sleeves up to his elbows, a sign he was agitated. Good.

Stepping into his familiar office he immediately shut the blinds, motioning for you to take a seat while he shut and locked the door. You opted to stand, a fact he didn’t mention as he moved over to his desk.

“Personal first, if you don’t mind.” You kept your tone cool and nonchalant, finding it funny how the tick in his jaw and flex of his muscles no longer excited you like they used to. How many times had you fucked yourself to the mental image of his fingers inside you, his arm flexing under your own hands as you held on?

Now you imagined another hand, another arm- many of those. Some that you could vividly remember how they felt on your skin, and others you could only think about. Perhaps you'd get the courage to make those fantasies a reality soon, not liking the anxiety that bubbled up in your chest when you often thought of physical contact in that way.

I'll get over it; you told yourself for the nth time in the last several months. The fact you were here now, facing down the man that broke your heart and had betrayed you to an extent you never thought you would recover from, was proof to you that you could get over that other thing.

“Personal as in about the last time I saw you?” Chan's tone was clipped and to the point, a sign he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “What is there to say?”

You relaxed your expression to try and appear as bored as possible. “Oh I don't know. How my best friend and the man I loved and admired sabotaged my career so they didn't have to make any personal sacrifices to their morals?” Venom still dripped in your words as your stare turned cold. “We can start there.”

“That's not the case-”

“Oh? Then what was it? I know I confessed, Chan. And then the next time you talked to me you were transferring me out. Doesn't matter why, you handled that like a fucking child.” You cut him off, sneering at the tick in his jaw. 

He barked out your name, much like he used to when he felt like you were overstepping orders or infringing on his authority. You just rolled your eyes at him, locking your hips and placing a perfectly manicured hand on the curve. “I didn't have a choice in transferring you.”

“Funny, it sounded like you suggested the transfer. Or well, you listened to Minho about it.” You snapped out, the calm and collected air around you falling fast. “But by all means, tell me how you had no choice but to transfer me. No choice not to confess. No choice not to talk to me after I did. No choice but to break me into a million pieces by ignoring me and my feelings until it was convenient for you.”

Toe to toe with him now, he was no longer keeping a cool head either, anger twisting his handsome features into a sneer. “You don't know anything. I played by the rules as much as I could. But you never think about that do you? I didn't want to keep quiet! Fuck I couldn't keep my hands off of you when you were drunk and I hated myself for that!” 

While he pushed his hair out of his face, you were flabbergasted, staring up with wide eyes. “What… what do you mean? What did you do, Chan?”

He turned away, clenching his jaw hard enough the veins on his neck bulged out. “You kissed me. Left a hickey. Felt so fucking good grinding up on me. I didn't fuck you. But I-” Mr. Stickler for clear consent and rules couldn't meet your eyes as he admitted, to him, his greatest sin. “You tasted so good, Trouble. Fuck I can still picture you coming on my tongue- on my fingers. The sounds you made, the way you begged-” He lifted his gaze to yours, a heat there you were unfamiliar with.

One step closer, and you took one back. You would have found his admission hot before, the idea you had such an effect on him that he broke his own rule, but that was before.

Before that red wolf. 

You told yourself this was beforehand and it wasn't the first time you had done such things drunk, so why did it matter.

It mattered when your name fell from his lips like a heated plea. When he reached out and grabbed your hip, pulling you flush against him. It mattered when he leaned in as if to kiss you, his eyes on your lips. “Is it really impossible to go that route?”

Panic welled in your chest at how close he was. You didn't want him to touch you- you didn't want to be touched.

It was the sting of your palm that brought you back to your senses, a red mark clear on Chan's cheek as you were now several feet away from him, back against the door and breathing a bit erratic. 

He didn't move aside from glancing at you. You could see the pain in his gaze, the confusion. Perhaps now he would finally realize how much he had screwed up.

“This was a mistake.” The thought of sticking around, alone in this office, had your chest tightening more by the second. Fumbling with the door, you were tripping over your feet to get out faster.

A chorus of your name echoed around you, different levels of concern and panic. You would have run right out if not for Chan grabbing your wrist. You struggled, turning to smack him again.

Jisung swooped in for the figurative rescue, pulling Chan off you and stopping your hand from connecting again with his Captain's jaw. “Hey hey, let's talk about this.”

“I'm trying.” Chan hissed out, the tick in his jaw back. “Why did you-”

“You touched me.” You cut him off, short breaths had your chest heaving. “You don't have the right any more Chan. I told you, you lost me. I wanted to make it clear what you fucking did is unforgivable, but I wanted to work past it so that we can work together. Because despite you being an entitled, self-absorbed, goody-two-shoes asshole… you and this unit are good at your fucking jobs.” 

Shaking off Jisung's hold, you stepped back, surprised to see the two youngest flanking you and stare down Chan. Seungmin even put an arm in front of you almost protectively, another thing you did not expect. They were the last two to join and you had a friendly working relationship with them but you weren't as close as you were with Jisung or Hyunjin.

Where was the latter? And Minho? And Felix? Two of those you wanted to see more than anything.

“She has a point, Captain. about you being a self-absorbed asshole that is.” Seungmin drawled it out so easily, sparing you a concerned glance. “You don't talk to us. You make decisions without explanations, ones that affect us all. We lost the vote to keep her here, but you never told us she didn't know about it. You told us there wasn't much of a chance otherwise. It was her or us.”

“Even I regret my vote.” Changbin added on, stepping up to his Captain, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We've been a mess since she left. Hyunjin acted out until you had to suspend him. Felix has been like a shell of his former self. Minho is too busy talking to the higher ups and moving between other precincts. We haven't met our quota in months-”

“I get it.” Dejectedly, Chan's whole demeanor fell. “I fucked up.”

Some of the tension slipped out of the room then, but you were still far too tense, stepping back. “You clearly have shit to figure out. Ji, let me know when this unit is level headed for a job.” The shaking of your words gave way to your panic, but you didn't stick around to let them poke at it.

Jeongin walked you out however, silent as he fell into step next to you. You didn't protest, mostly because he didn't ask any questions. He was there as you signed yourself out and walked out the front door, only pausing when you did.

The last thing you expected stepping out of the S.K Precinct was the tall, lanky man holding a bundle of your favorite flowers in his hand, pacing as if he was nervous. “Mingi?”

His head shot up, those boba eyes you adored brimming with concern, brows pushed together even deeper at the sight of the man next to you. “Princess?”

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you stepped closer, but Jeongin was right there. “You know him?”

“He's my boyfriend.” You replied without a second thought, chest tight with emotion that was reflected on Mingi's features. The way his eyes widened a tad more, brows shooting up at your admission, and the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his full lips.

Recognition flashed across Jeongin’s own sharp fox-like features. “The one who hit Chan?” 

“Yep. What are you doing here baby?” You stepped up to him, glancing down at the flowers with a silent question.

He handed them over to you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The way you stiffened wasn't lost on him, but he didn't address it. “I heard you were coming to see that fuck face so I came to pick you up. I got her from here.” Mingi nodded over at Jeongin, effectively dismissing him.

He hesitated a moment before turning on his heel. “Alright just- don't be afraid to reach out. We don't stand with Chan on this.” He was back inside the next moment.

Alone with Mingi, the flowers now in your hand, he smiled down at you but it was still a little tense. “Boyfriend? Really?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you instead buried your nose in the flowers. “Do you really want to question that after you brought me flowers?”

“No… you're right. Let me take you home then?” He asked, moving his arm around you but not touching. He must be able to tell how on edge you were.

You were trying to forget.

“Who says I didn't drive?” You retorted, automatically defensive from his care. It made you feel weak, like you were fragile. You knew that wasn't their intent, what they thought; you knew they were just respecting your triggers. Yet it pissed you off anyways.

“The fact you lack a license, Princess. Now for my own piece of mind I'd like to take you home.” 

You hated how easily he calmed your thoughts, proving he didn't think you were fragile but he needed it. “Fine- lead the way.” With a resigned huff you let him lead. 

Moments later you were in the passenger seat of his car, much like Wooyoung's, it looked a bit rundown on the outside but had a slick, luxurious interior. “Are these your undercover cars or something?”

“Yeah. I'll have to show you my baby though. She purrs like a kitten, made the modifications myself.” He slipped into the driver seat with ease, chair pushed back and one hand on the wheel. “Buckle up Princess.” Was the only warning you had before he was slipping into traffic with a harsh swerve.

It didn't surprise you that he was a car guy, at times taking notes of black stains on his fingertips that would last a few days. You never asked, mostly because it was in passing. You also weren't surprised he was a reckless driver.

What did surprise you was when you realized he was not heading downtown to the Pink Boa apartments you had been staying in the last few months. “Mingi? I thought you were taking me home?”

“Yeah, back to Captain's place.”

“That's not home.” You protested, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

He glanced over at you incredulously. “Of course it is. It’s home for all Pirates.” 

The surety of his words had you stumped, so instead of answering you glanced down at the flowers again. 

Right after they officially accepted you into the Pirates, you demanded to go to work. You had reached out to Haru and she set you up with one of the apartments she kept her girls in. Your legal address was still next to Mingi, this was just considered a burner apartment, one that you didn't need to stay in but you did anyways. 

Haru had been right about a woman's touch after such incidents, burying yourself into work to also keep her from probing. Were you running from what happened? Ignoring It? Yes.

It wasn't because it happened, but you hated the way it changed you. Your desire for the others was still strong, but the moment you thought of them touching you, your mind would slip. The creepy drunk men hitting on you? Also making your skin crawl.

Your ability to do your job was affected. Your relationship was strained. You felt… less.

So you pushed through it, pretending you didn't break down alone in that apartment. Pretending Yeosang didn't see any of it. You pretended the others didn't have a reason to be worried. Pretended you couldn't see Wooyoung or San because of work, despite living in the same building as them. 

Mind racing with anxiety, wondering just how you were going to face them, you didn't realize the two of you were already pulling into a garage under the stone and metal building on the river that was home to your Captain and his lover's.

Your lovers.

It had been a little over three months since you had been here, avoiding meeting them in person as much as possible. And when you saw them, physicality was out of the question. Not that it wasn't comforting when San rubbed your back or Wooyoung held your hand, but you would always find yourself guilty that this was all you could handle.

Mingi getting out of the car and rushing around to open the door for you gave you little time to prepare. Would you ever be?

Hesitantly, you took his hand, trying to keep yours steady. Mingi once more didn't say anything, but there was pain in his eyes and his jaw clenched. 

It hurt that your pain hurt them, a concept you were so unfamiliar with. Your pain is something they didn't like to see. They feel hurt with you, they share your anger and sadness.

It made you want to run.

“Please don't ask Mingi.” You knew he wouldn't, but you still pleaded with him.

His gaze shot up to meet yours, not even hiding the depth of his pain. His full lips fell open repeatedly, gaping like a fish as he scrambled for words. “Before… before we go in…”

You tensed up unintentionally, which resulted in a choked groan falling from Mingi's lips.

“Fuck Princess- before we go in… can you please not look like I'm walking you to the guillotine or something? If it helps, this is about work okay?”

Averting your eyes, you moved past him with a heavy breath. “I'm sorry. I'm trying. I'm really trying Mingi.”

“Did he do something? That Chan fucker? If so I'll drive right back there and break his fucking neck you just say the word Princess.” He followed you, the door shutting behind him as you both made your way to the stairs.

“He… he tried to kiss me. And I just-”

“He what?” Mingi stepped in front of you with a stormy expression. “Fuck- Princess. Then we can take a minute. Let's sit on the steps. I can hold you if-”

“Please.” The word was out before you could stop yourself. Before the guilt could eat you up. “Just for a minute.” 

As he set the flowers aside he sat on the stairs and pulled you onto his lap sideways. Feeling his shaky breath on your neck oddly calmed your nerves. Even as you replayed the events of the precinct over and over until it no longer spiked your anxiety, he held you and kept you calm.

It brought you a twisted sense of pride to know that Chan was just as fucked up as you were right now. S.K was in tatters, but so were you. Maybe taking a page out of his book and being an entitled and self-absorbed asshole would help.

Then you could seek comfort in Mingi's embrace without the soul crushing guilt of the pain you caused him.

Taglist in the Reblogs! Masterlist | Next

[ratmare]

When the Lords of Leipa are summoned to treat, there are rumors flickering in the halls concerning the young swordsman accompanying Lord Capon. He’s a popular fellow. Many of the nobility toast him as the savior of Suchdol, and some offer him thanks for his hand in their own personal good fortune. But in the serving quarters below the banquet hall those who pay attention find reason to be wary.

They keep their voices hushed as they collect around the table, bowls of stew held close and prayers whispered before daring to take a bite. The chambermaid is the first to speak and she swears Lord Capon’s page hasn't touched his bed since arriving at the castle.

“Of course he hasn’t. When you all sleep, he mounts his horse and sets off God knows where.” The stableboy hisses. “There wasn’t a sliver of moon last night but he rode torchless, like hell itself was on his heels.”

“I’ve talked to him a fair bit.” The laundress stares blankly into her supper. “He’s kind enough not to haggle and even supplies his own soap, but it's the same pair of hose, gambeson and black waffenrock.”

“They’re soaked in blood each time.” The broth slip from her spoon, thin and murky rivulets dribbling back into her bowl. “And his eyes…they were blown black every morning, it almost looked like they were bleeding into the whites. Gave me the shivers.”

A huntsman leaning against the wall takes a long swig from his wineskin. “I want to believe I was seeing things but I stumbled on him dressing a deer in the Lord’s woods. When he was done he threw some of the meat to his hound and then took a handful for himself…I swear to the Blessed Virgin I saw him eat it raw.”

More than a few at the table cross themselves, mutters of “God protect us” rising into the air to mingle with the kitchen smoke.

“Henry seems like a fine man to me.” A serving girl fumbles with the hem of her sleeve. “He brewed fever tonic for Ludmilla’s child and wouldnt accept a groschen for it.”

“Did you see him make it though! The man was plucking belladonna and nettle barehanded. It’s devilry.”

“You don’t think Lord Capon would really have a demon in his service?” She frowns. “He prays in front of the wayside shrine each morning, and a demon could never do that”

“The devil quoteth scripture to suit his needs.” The farrier presses his tongue into his cheek, arms folded over his chest, and several at the table nod in solemn agreement.

“Devils is right.” The nightwatchman says. “You should hear the wailing that comes from his room after midnight.”

“So he beds a lass or two.” She shrugs. “Hardly unusual for a handsome lad like that.”

“Weren’t no lass in his quarters. Them were the moans of the damned I swear.”

“True enough.” The stableboy pipes up. “I bet thats why he rides all night. He’s out collecting souls for the Devil and then throws them into the flames for his master to feast on.”

“That’s nonsense!” The serving girl huffs. “The only master that man is interested in serving is Lord Capon.”

“But you see that’s the crux of it.” He leans in, voice low. “Don’t you find Lord Capon’s good fortune a little…suspicious?”

“Good fortune? The man’s been caged more times than a pigeon!”

“Shhh shhhh, yes, but he’s been freed each time and his uncle hasn’t had to ransom a single groschen for him.” He flicks his eyes between them waiting for the realization to dawn, but the serving girl is stone faced and the rest are slow with wine or fear.

“Capon sold his soul.” He concludes and the serving girl’s face instantly curdles.

“Blasphemy.”

“No it’s the truth. Do you really believe a no name peasant who’s held a sword for less than a year could rescue a lord half a dozen times.”

“That’s divine providence. Not devilry”

“”You think God favors some bratty lord from Sasau over our poor King locked in Vienna?” The huntsman quirks an eyebrow. “And after talking to our new bathmaiden from Rattay I don’t think God wants anything to do with that man.”

The stableboy slaps the table in agreement. “The rescues are one thing, but the marriage? Getting old Kunstadt to agree to that union had to take some bewitchment.”

She snorts. “You think Master Henry’s playing matchmaker?”

“If he is what I believe him to be there’s no telling what the limits to his powers might be.”

“This is all such foolishness.” She pushes back against the table as she moves to stand. “It’s plain as day you’re just jealous of a man who’s risen far above his station and has earned the friendship and admiration of the man he serves.”

“Careful how you speak, wench.” The stableboy hisses, teeth grit and finger punching at the air above her heart. “Or you’ll be dragged to Hell with Capon and his curr.”

“What’s that?” A new voice cuts through the air, deep and cold. They all turn to see a man standing in the doorway, the kitchen fire glints off the buttons of his black gambeson and combs bronze streaks through his chestnut hair. But the eyes that find the stableboy are icy.

“Did I mishear?” Henry takes a slow stride toward their table, gaze flitting from one face to the next. “It sounded as if you were speaking ill of my master.”

The stableboy feels the blood chill beneath his skin from this devil’s stare. He must be a devil. He’s seen more floggings than Christmases but his heart’s never hammered this hard from a man who’s yet to even raise a hand to him.

“O-of course not, m’lord.” He offers, throat clicking.

“Not a lord.” He draws closer, face inches from his. “Certainly not yours.”

“I can’t have you thrown into the stocks or horse whipped, but know that if I ever learn that you’ve spoken another unkind word about Sir Capon that I will have you begging for a Lord’s idea of justice.”

“Are we clear?”

He nods frantically, eyes pressed shut.

“Good.” He eases back just enough to allow the idiot to bolt, and like that the tension seems to lessen, a smile warms the swordsman’s face as he turns to the serving girl. “Ahhhh Anna is this your work it smells delicious.”

“It’s got that venison you brought me.” She smiles handing him a bowl. “Tried to dress it up a bit with some of Ludmilla’s spices.”

“You have a gift” He grins around a mouthful while he fumbles with the pouch at his belt. “Oh and before I forget here’s that wine you asked for.”

“Oh Henry, you are an angel. How did you manage it I thought Peter would laugh in your face?”

“I have my ways.” He winks.

Finis

Just a little quick and dirty drabble because good natured/kind protagonists being seen as creepy by outsiders is my absolute favorite trope

So did anyone else get the Tartare perk from the Mill? That’s gonna be hard to explain to his friends hehe, but oh boy is it good inspo for monster!Henry fics. Additionally, I always feel bad for mistiming nighthawk potions so Henry’s ryes are dilated during daytime. All that belladonna must make him look freaky.

[jjslvt]

A SMILE JUST FOR JJ ── .✦ fluff, blurb .ᐟ.ᐟ

the pogues (including you as you were one of them) were all gathered on the beach, sitting around in a circle — the mood had been pleasant and full of delicate silliness. the sun was to set soon. the warmth of a bonfire in the center of your circle sending crackles in the air amongst the laughter of you all could be heard.

it was one of those moments where life felt pretty damn good and all their worries melted away. the beach not having too many people around, so it felt like a little secret paradise to you all who were basking in the ambience. each of you simply enjoying each other’s companies as you all shared short stories or jokes.

your gaze flickered over to jj maybank, who was laughing brightly at one of the jokes just told. that smile practically shined like the sun itself and his good mood was just so charming that it became infectious.

you found yourself getting happier at the sight because you loved seeing him joyful yet calm too. he wasn’t on edge like life sometimes made him feel. you were best friends, all of you but sometimes with you and jj, there seemed to be something more lingering about. though nobody spoke on it, including the both of you but it hadn’t mattered too much. you two were extremely natural with each other, feeling satisfaction.

so when jj’s gaze met yours back, he kept that beaming open-mouthed smile… and something in you shifted. it was something you had always done, specifically for him — something he noticed and actually adored very much as it secretly tugged at his heart strings.

‘there’s that smile… the smile for me…’

you were already smiling with your friends before but now as you two locked gazes in a moment seemingly frozen in time, it changed.

it’s that smile you specifically reserve for jj maybank. the one you never gave to others… it was something very special. maybe the way your eyes softened too — the way you looked at him like he was the best person in the world. it made him feel good; his chest would tighten a bit in realization and a sudden wave of affection and mild possessiveness would wash over him. he never wanted anyone else to get that smile to be honest. it was his.

so he gestured for you to come over to him as soon as you did it. he just wanted you close to him whenever he saw it. of course you obliged, coming right over as the rest of the pogues got lost in their own conversations now, breaking off into small groups. once you sat next to him on the log, he wasted no time tugging you close to him and making you sit on his lap while he placed his chin on top of your head. you relaxed your back against his chest, enjoying it despite the pace of your hearts increasing ever so slightly and syncing up together even… to beat as one. everything and everyone else slowly faded into the background.

so… maybe you two weren’t just best friends. but whatever this was, you were both super content. a rare moment of comfortable silence and a sense of safety plus pure bliss rolling over as you two watched the sun finally fade.

but you heard him quietly murmur, “that smile is just for me… mine.”

maybe that was the start of a confession finally.

[amphitriteswife]

Demon

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Goo drops the plastic bag onto the wooden floor, his glasses in his blond hair. The blonde stared at you in shock. Who is this sassy child? And why is it standing in Jonggun’s house? ‘I’m related to that one.’ Goo follows your finger that was pointing towards Jonggun who was cutting wood. Goo’s gaze flickers between you and Gun, his eyebrows raising with each glance. He can see the similarities. Resting bitch face. Rude ass mouth. Sharp eyes. And ofcourse the black hair styled almost the same way, yours is just longer with a few strands down your face…damn. Jonggun never mentioned having a sister. Hell he thought most of his family was dead? Goo scratched his head while trying to remember Jonggun’s family lore, only to be interrupted by you ‘Get out of my house your dandruff is getting everywhere.’ Goo stops scratching his head and looks you dead in the eyes. Why is this midget talking to him like that? You may be Jonggun’s sister but he’ll still beat your ass. ‘Gun tell your sister to be nice to me.’ ‘Tell her yourself.’ Good clicked his tongue at Jonggun’s flippant response. Typical, Jonggun wouldn’t teach his sister manners. Well it’s not like Jonggun has manners himself…

‘Ugh you gnat. Be nice. I’m your guest!’ ‘Guest? More like a louse’ Goo looks at you with a scowl. His head whipping towards Jonggun’s direction who was still sculpting the wood ‘Jonggun! Say something!’ Jonggun sighed. Putting the knife down, he walked up to you, placing a hand on your head. ‘What’s going on?’ Jonggun looked at you, waiting for your answer. Goo on the other hand also looked at you, gritting his teeth when you hug him around his torso and look up at him, your eyes intentionally bigger than normal and batting your eyelashes up at him innocently. ‘He hit me.’ Your sudden claim made Goo stutter to Jonggun. ‘SHE’S LYING.’ Jonggun flickered his gaze between you and Goo, his eyes scanning your face. You looked fine…no bruise. No red mark. You’re lying aren’t you? ‘Y/N’ ‘yes brother?’ Your innocent facade made Goo grip his blonde hair, his eyes burning on the back of your head. His teeth gride against each other. He knows it now. You’re no innocent girl…you’re a demon child.

-

Currently You’re sitting at the opposite side of the coach with Goo at the other end and Jonggun somewhere in the kitchen. Goo glared at you.scooting away as far as he can from you. You ok the other hand looked at the TV. At least that was until you felt his glare burn into your skull. Your head slowly turned to him. ‘Stop staring you ant fucker.’ Goo tried to kick you, but you dodged and slapped him across the face. ‘Ow you bitch!’ ‘Who are you calling a bitch?’ Both you and Goo turned to find Jonggun standing in front of the couch with apron on and a whisk in his hand. His eyes stared dangerously at Goo who threw up his hands in the air. ‘jonggun!’ You practically threw yourself at him and buried your head in his shoulder. Gun looked at Goo with a glare while he rubbed your back. You master manipulator! You call him named and now that he’s busted you act like a victim! And why the hell is Gun falling for it too! Goo grumbled under his breath. ‘Apologize.’ What? Did Goo hear that right? Dod Gun really just ask him to apologize to you? This abomination he calls a sister? THE DEMON?! No. No he won’t. ‘I’m not telling you again.’ ‘OKAY FINE!…jeez I’m sorry…’ Goo said, clearly not meaning it but who cares? All that mattered is that he had to apologize against his will and that made you feel great. You looked up from Jonggun’s shoulder and smiled at him, he patted your head and went back to the kitchen. Now left alone with Goo, you gave him a smile too. Goo looked at you with a dead panned look. You’re dead. You’re soooo dead the next time Goo comes over. He’ll rip you to shreds. ‘Demon..’

[jimxnslight]

The Odd One Out

Summary: When BigHit faces financial struggles, the unthinkable happens: a girl is added to BTS. For the seven members, the change is unsettling, especially for Namjoon, who doubts her place among them. But for Y/N… it's a chance to finally be seen.

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: idol au

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I randomly got the urge to write but wasn’t really feeling any of my wips at the moment, so tell me why I opened a new doc and then 3 hours later this appeared? Like damn, I’m not used to this kind of motivation lmao

“This is a joke, right?”

A heavy silence followed Namjoon’s words, the band’s leader the only one with the guts to voice his mind. But really, someone had to point out how ridiculous the plan being proposed to them was. 

“Now I know it’s not very traditional-”

“It’s not breaking tradition that we’re concerned with,” he countered instantly, “it’s the fact that you’re proposing to bring a girl into the group.”

“I think we all just want to know where this is coming from,” Hoseok offered, inquisitive eyes traveling from Namjoon to their longtime friend and producer now sitting before them. 

Beomgyu sighed, taking in the small recording studio packed with the bright and young members of Bangtan. He had half a mind to call Sihyuk and give him hell for making him be the one to propose the solution they’d spent months coming up with. It was more than clear that the members weren’t on board with the plan, some outright rejecting it while others reluctant, which was a problem because only Beomgyu knew that they didn’t really have a choice in the matter. 

“Look,” Beomgyu raised his hands in surrender, not wanting this to fester into something dramatic, “I get it. The thought of someone being added into the group this late is a bit wild, especially that someone being a girl, but that’s exactly why we’re doing it.”

“So it’s a move for attention?” Yoongi commented, unimpressed. A single brow disappeared behind his light grey hair as he leaned back into the small sofa, arms crossing over his chest. Beomgyu could only purse his lips.

“The company’s been facing a lot of financial issues, especially ever since the girl group prior to your debut disbanded. They had hoped that perhaps your last album could have done well enough to keep us afloat until your popularity increases, but even I knew that was a long shot.”

“Then we’ll make a better album,” Namjoon said, determination making his voice firm, but Beomgyu shook his head.

“You guys don’t get it, do you?” 

The boys all gave Beomgyu a curious look, heads tilting and murmurs rippling amongst themselves. Beomgyu watched them all, feeling sympathy for the boys that deserved so much better.

“The Big Three companies have been buying up slots in awards shows and TV programs. They’ve been booking interviews everywhere - anywhere they can get their hands on. There are no places for us to market your group, nothing we can buy up because BigHit has no money. We’re lucky enough that the sales you guys make cover the production costs and some debts, which is way more than what we anticipated.”

He leaned forward in his chair, fidgeting with a stray pen, “you guys have made so many songs that should have been absolute hits, but they never did. Why? Because they can’t gain that kind of trajectory in a company so small. The only realistic thing to expect is to gradually gain popularity - but that takes time. Time we don’t have considering the fact that BigHit is sinking.”

The room was silent, everyone processing the weight of the situation. It made sense, as much as the boys hated to admit it, they were tired of putting all their blood, sweat, and tears into making their albums, only for them to gain minimal traction. They tended to put the blame on themselves most of the time, feeling as though they weren’t good enough, but Beomgyu knew the truth. Had they been in a bigger company, their songs would have been sellouts.  

“Come on, talk to me. You guys are my friends first, and I don’t want you to feel like we’re forcing a horrible decision on you,” Beomgyu begged, especially taking note of how quiet the younger members had been this entire time. 

He was relieved when Jimin sat forward on the couch, running a hand through his black hair slowly, “it’s just… this is weird. Not only for us, but what about the girl too? I can’t imagine she would feel comfortable being in a group with seven guys.”

“And doesn’t this decision seem a bit… permanent? Why not do something more temporary?” Yoongi piped in. 

Taehyung laughed, shaking his light brown hair, “what? Like dating rumours?”

Seokjin grimaced, as though the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Things like this tend to get a bigger reaction when the consequences are more permanent, or at least that’s what I was told,” Beomgyu offered. He was only a producer after all, most of the hard work had been done by the management. 

“And to answer Jimin’s question… well, the girl has already signed the contract, so she must be fine with it.”

That had all the boys’ heads snapping to Beomgyu.

“She’s already been picked out?” Jungkook asked, doe eyes wide in surprise. They widened even more when Beomgyu nodded, causing a frenzy amongst the boys. 

“You wanna meet her?” He asked with a relieved smile, glad to be out of the danger zone. 

Taehyung was the first to jump from his place on the couch, his leg accidentally bumping into Jungkook who had been sitting on the floor at his feet. He mumbled something in annoyance as his dark brown hair was pushed into his eyes.

“Okay, hold on.” Beomgyu’s words made the boys pause, “technically you’re not supposed to meet her until next week, but she told me she’ll be in the studio to record something for your next album today so I don’t think it’ll hurt to pay her a small visit.”

“You’ve met her already?” Hoseok asked, his tone slightly surprised. So much seemed to have changed in the span of 20 minutes. 

Beomgyu nodded, ushering everyone out of the recording studio to begin their journey to the one down the hall. Taehyung was right behind him, a boxy grin gracing his features. 

“So if you’ve met her, what’s she like?”

He seemed to have been the only one excited by the odd plan from the start, much less skeptical compared to his bandmates. But then again, Beomgyu wasn’t surprised. Taehyung seemed to have a natural liking for anything unusual. 

The other boys didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm, but he could see the hints of curiosity in their gazes. Even Namjoon trudged behind everyone reluctantly, though notably still skeptical of the plan. 

Once they had reached the door, Beomgyu knocked on it twice and then turned around to give them a look. 

“Regardless of your feelings towards this situation, let’s not try to overwhelm her, alright?” He said, his gaze then straying to Taehyung, “she’s a nice girl and she doesn’t deserve to be treated badly.”

Beomgyu didn’t actually believe any of the boys would be rude, he knew them better than that. He just hoped they also understood how nerve-wracking this would be for you, because he hadn’t lied, you really were a nice girl. 

The door behind him opened to reveal another producer.

“Alright then, let’s meet your new member.”

-

-

-

“God, you have no idea how much I’m enjoying this right now.”

Your head tilted in question at the comment, hands coming up to steady the headphones encasing your ears. This was probably your third hour in the recording booth, Hyowon seeming to want to make sure your voice didn’t work before he let you off.

“You enjoy getting rid of my voice?” You asked with an amused smile, the comment making him shake his head with a laugh.

“No, no, that’s not it, I swear. It’s just your vocals,” he explained, “I’m sure you already know we don’t get a lot of high notes around here - I mean don’t get me wrong, Jimin and Seokjin do an incredible job, but there’s nothing like a female high note.”

“I’m assuming you’re a fan of high notes?” You asked, almost bursting into laughter when he nodded instantly. 

“You should ask the guys, they’re sick of me telling them to sing one every two minutes- oh my god,” he exclaimed suddenly, a thought evidently coming to him, “please tell me you can do a whistle.”

You chuckled shyly, a bit embarrassed by your answer, “my vocal coach doesn’t want me to do it much until I get the proper technique down, but I’ve done it a few times.”

“Oh, Y/N. You’re gonna get so sick of me.”

You laughed, beginning to take a liking to Hyowon. It was nice to know there would be at least one person so easygoing and friendly in this company. It was going to make these next few months a lot easier if the other members decided they didn’t like you.

You knew technically it didn’t matter, but that thought had been playing around in your mind a lot lately. The entire situation was weird, even you had to admit, but the moment BigHit had given you a call and proposed the idea, you knew you’d have to be crazy to turn something like this down, especially considering how difficult it’s been trying to stay afloat as a solo artist from a small company.

Unlike what the company had in mind, however, you weren’t planning on staying in BTS forever. Your plan was to just join the group for about a year, ensure your name got out there while you and BTS grew in popularity, and then announce your disbandment from the group with a heartfelt goodbye. Rest assured if any of the guys weren’t a fan of your presence, they would only have to hold out for a few months.

Still, the people pleaser in you was hoping they didn’t hate you immediately. 

“Okay, I think that just about wraps up-”

A knock suddenly sounded from the recording studio’s door, causing the two of you to eye it curiously. 

“I thought there was still 20 minutes left until my fried chicken came, it must have come early…” Hyowon muttered, getting up from his seat to get to the door. 

You slid the headphones off your head with a relieved sigh, satisfied with the work you put in today, though your mind was already racing with ways to improve for next time. You let them whirl as you strolled out of the recording booth and gently placed the headphones back on the table. But when you turned around, you were surprised to find a number of other men in the room.

Not just any men too, but your soon-to-be bandmates. 

And all their eyes were trained on you, making your own widen. 

You’d technically seen them all in photos from the research you’d conducted after BigHit’s call, but those didn’t seem to do them justice at all. They didn’t capture the tender look in Yoongi’s eyes, or the pretty accents in Hoseok’s features. Jin, who you had already thought looked straight out of a k-drama, somehow looked even better in real life, while Namjoon’s aura seemed to exude the feel of a leader. Even though the rest were sort of hidden behind the older members, you could tell they were all attractive; it was so intimidating.

Before you could say anything - or sprint out the door like you really wanted to do right now - you caught sight of Beomgyu in the lineup of men, a friendly smile gracing his lips as he made his way to your side. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted, clapping Hyowon on the back before placing a more gentle hand on your shoulder. It was difficult to meet his eyes when your gaze kept flickering wearily to the boys surrounding you, “we thought it would be nice to drop by and see how the recording was going.”

Hyowon leaned a casual arm on Beomgyu’s shoulder, a testament to their evolved friendship over the years.

“It’s going very well,” he answered, excitement radiating off him in waves, “the high notes in your next album are going to be incredible.”

A series of groans rose from a few of the boys, only two of the seven harbouring amused smirks. It took a moment for you to place their names: Jin and Jimin, Bangtan’s main visual and lead vocalist. 

The latter accidently caught your gaze, black hair and sharp jawline giving him an almost charismatic intensity. But before you could quickly look away, his face broke into a warm smile, soothing a few of your nerves instantly. 

At least one of them didn’t seem to hate you. 

“Well, then…” Beomgyu began, catching everyone’s attention, “Hyowon and I have a couple things we need to work on, so… um, we’ll be right here if you need us?”

Hyowon snickered at the awkwardness before Beomgyu grabbed his shirt and dragged him to the computer across the room, which of course wasn’t that far with how small the studio was. You still missed the comfort of his hand on your shoulder, now feeling very alone while facing people that may potentially hate your existence. 

Still, you had to make at least some effort, right?

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered, voice smaller than you meant for it to be. 

A series of greetings sounded from them, some softening at your tone, while others were unmoved. It was difficult to gauge their general feelings on your presence, which only seemed to make you more nervous. 

Taehyung broke off from the group to stand closer, a boxy smile aimed right at you. You tried not to, but even you couldn’t stop yourself from ogling his almost perfectly structured face and the tousled hair that fell so effortlessly across his forehead when he moved.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile shyly at his excitement. If you hadn’t been so timid, you might have noticed his lingering gaze on your features, “this is all so cool, isn’t it?”

You’d never really thought about it like that, your views on the situation being controlled entirely by your nerves up until now. But when he put it that way… you supposed he was right, it was kind of cool. 

“I guess so,” you admitted, slowly warming up to the idea. 

“I mean, seriously, this is so crazy!” He continued on, facing the other members,“it’s not everyday a group gets a new member three years in - and that too a girl! This is kinda uncharted territory, you know?”

“That’s what makes it a bit scary,” you admitted with a chuckle. You noticed Jimin’s eyes soften at your words and his lips part to say something, but before he could, Jungkook piped up from behind Seokjin’s broad shoulders.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Y/L/N Y/N, would you?” He asked, his tone almost as shy as yours. You honestly hadn’t even realised he was there, but now that you had, you took in his doe eyes and ruffled dark brown hair. He kept having to push the silky locks out of his eyes, a motion you found insanely distracting. 

You nodded mindlessly, distantly surprised that he knew your last name without offering it. 

“Oh. Cool,” he nodded. Then he noticed your questioning look and quickly rushed to explain, “I think I’ve, um, heard your name somewhere.”

Seokjin’s gaze narrowed as he looked back at the younger boy, “hey, wait. Isn’t that the artist Jungkook listens to like all the time-?”

“So what’s your position?” Jungkook interrupted quickly, a bright shade of pink engulfing the sides of his neck. 

You blinked at Jungkook’s sudden change of topic, though you didn’t miss the slight panic in his expression. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, slightly amused by his reaction. Seokjin’s comment had not gone unnoticed by you; the fact that Jungkook liked your music was a comforting thought. 

“Vocalist,” you replied, deciding not to tease him over it, which elicited a look of relief on Jungkook’s face, “though Hyowon has said I’ll be doing so much harmonisation work with Seokjin and Jimin that it might as well be my actual position.”

Seokjin chuckled quietly, his plump lips spreading into a charming smile, though his gaze didn’t meet yours. In fact, you started to notice that he was keeping his gaze strictly on the other members even as you spoke. 

“Good, it’ll finally get him off our backs,” Yoongi muttered, revealing a much more laid back personality instead of the cold persona he seemed to emit on camera, “I’m a rapper and that man still tries to get me to put in a couple high notes.”

Hyowon turned from the mixing desk to face the group with an evidently offended huff, reminding you of the producers’ presence. 

“You all complain now, but just wait until you hear the final product. You’ll be thanking me.”

“Sure,” Yoongi deadpanned, turning to you once again, “can you rap?”

You tilted your head in thought. 

“I think I can hold my own if I had to, though it’s not really my style.”

“That’s fine, you’re one of us vocalists,” Taehyung waved his hand around dramatically, throwing a possessive arm around your shoulder as he eyed Yoongi, “no one wants to be one of the rappers anyway.”

“Weren’t you just yesterday begging Namjoon to let you on Cypher?” Jimin raised a brow.

“No.”

“Do you dance, Y/N?” Hoseok asked, interrupting the ridiculous conversation before it turned into a fight, though the way he leaned forward made it clear he was very interested in your answer. 

That question had you nervously rocking against your heels, a hesitant breath escaping your lips before you replied, “definitely not as good as you guys, but I’m ready to put in a ton of work to get better, I swear.”

Unlike the look of displeasure you expected, Hoseok nodded in your direction with a satisfied smile. It was a relief that he was willing to at least give you a chance before jumping to disdain. His gaze lingered as he scanned you from head to toe, assessing your potential with intensity.

“Hard work is a must,” Namjoon emphasised, the first time he’d spoken since walking into the room. Even though no one had been speaking, it felt as though a hush had washed over the group, a testament to the weight of his words as a leader. You’d been noticing Namjoon staring at you from the beginning, the look not exactly scorn, but not very inviting either. It made you squirm in your spot, doubt creeping into your thoughts, “being a soloist is pretty different from being in a group, which means you’ll have to put in a lot of hard work - it’s not going to be easy.”

You straightened, feeling as though you were being tested, “I understand completely. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m ready to put in the work. You don’t have to worry about me being a drain.”

Namjoon’s hard gaze flickered before he regarded you for a moment, no indication as to whether you had passed his mini “test” or not, “alright.”

A soft hand squeezed your shoulder gently, belonging to none other than Jimin. The proximity of his warm eyes made your face heat, something Jimin seemed to notice. His smile became teasing, “don’t say that, no one here thinks that you’re a drain. I think you’re going to do great. And if you have any questions don’t hesitate to-”

“I have a question actually,” Namjoon’s voice sounded once again, gaze still trained on you. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of tension run through you every time he spoke, “I’m curious to know why you agreed to this whole thing.”

You pursed your lips, not entirely sure how to reply. On one hand, you didn’t mind telling them about your plan, in fact, you bet they’d be relieved to hear it. But on the other hand, you were slightly afraid that they might think you were using them - which technically speaking you were, but also technically speaking they were using you too. It was an odd predicament.

“My solo career wasn’t doing as well as I had wished it would - plus, the excitement of something new mostly,” you offered. Only half the truth, but just enough to relieve you of your guilty conscience. 

“Well, the contract’s been signed and you’re here now, so you’re one of us,” Taehyung exclaimed, and you couldn’t help but be grateful for how welcoming he’d been since the start. Not that the others haven’t, Jimin’s presence had been like a warm blanket while Jungkook’s secret admiration had been an honour. And you completely understood everyone else’s hesitation, you’d be weirded out too if someone was randomly added to your group three years later. Still, the warm welcomes had made you insanely grateful. 

Taehyung steered you towards the door of the studio, “and what better way to celebrate than to eat some steaming barbeque and noodles.”

“Oh oka-” You barely had time to answer before you were being steered out the door by an enthusiastic Taehyung, the rest shrugging before following behind with casual chatter and mumbles. Soon the studio was empty, no one but Namjoon, Beomgyu, and Hyowon left. 

Namjoon stood with his hands crossed over his chest, gaze fixed on the door when he spoke.

“The contract’s already signed, huh?” he repeated, gaze shifting to the other two men in the room, “and what if we had said no?”

“Namjoon,” Beomgyu pleaded, his face falling, “please don’t make this harder than it has to be…”

Namjoon’s gaze softened, realising that he was directing his anger onto the wrong people, “sorry. I know this isn’t on you, man.”

“Come on, Joon,” Hyowon said, feeling bad for his friend, “she seems nice, and she’s got an incredible voice. You may not like the situation, but at least she’ll be a good addition to the group, no?”

Namjoon’s gaze strayed back to the open door, letting his thoughts whirl around in his head. He didn’t want to voice them out loud because, technically speaking, he didn’t really have any tangible evidence that went against what Hyowon was saying yet.

He uncrossed his arms with a sigh.  

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

[zinflo]

LOADING THOUGHTS… ⟡☁︎⟡ Bodyguard!Choso

Bodyguard!Choso who is hired to watch and protect Influencer!reader. He could already tell that you wasn’t fond of him or the idea of having a bodyguard.

Across from you sat a man you didn’t recognise. Slouched in the chair, legs spread apart, one arm resting over the backrest, and a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers. Dark, sunken eyes, half-lidded and unimpressed, met yours from under his loose strands of black hair. “So, this is my bodyguard?” You spoke up as you delivered a harsh scoff right after.

Bodyguard!Choso who exhaled smoke through his nose and let out a dry, unimpressed chuckle to your skeptical comment.

“Problem?”

“Yeah.” You leaned back against the sofa, crossing your arms over your chest. “You look like you got picked randomly off the street by my PR team to do this job, hobo...” While Choso shot a glare towards your direction and a scoff back, your PR manager gave you a warning look. “Be nice, Choso is very good at his job.”

Bodyguard!Choso who swore that he wouldn’t fall for a bratty, high-maintenance influencer like you was sorely mistaken.

As time went by, he was warming up to you just as much as you were. Your favourite drink, favourite snack, your little mannerisms that you would do when creating content was things that he was picking up on. And when you would go on to question his actions, he would roll his eyes and ruffle your hair softly. “Tch, I don’t see ya complaining so hush and keep drinkin’ your blueberry matcha latte.”

Bodyguard!Choso who also began to grow jealous whenever a male fan or another fellow influencer that was a man would come in contact with you.

“Wrap it up already. Now.”

Those same dark, sunken, half lidded eyes of his were now burning with irritation and anger, his beefy hand flying to the shoulder of a fellow influencer, Ino, before yanking him away from you. “W-What the hell are you doing?! He was just-“. “Didn’t ask and don’t care. He shouldn’t be that close, simple.”

Bodyguard!Choso who knew that he might have gone too far but didn’t give a damn. And he knew he messed up when the next day, you couldn’t even bother to let him know where you were.

“Where the hell d’ya think you’re goin’, huh? I’ve been trying to reach ya all fuckin’ day and even had to ask your manager where the fuck ya were.”

You were shocked to see Choso just there, glaring at you, leaning against his car, with smoke curling around his face before the cigarette that rested between his fingers was now discarded. The way his words spat out his mouth was such a red flag but weirdly enough… You were drawn to it? His voice being all hoarse and dirty when he spoke made you think of things that made your pussy clench.

Bodyguard!Choso who was growing impatient the more you just stood there, his eyes roaming over your body as the black cut out dress that stopped at your thighs hugged your body tightly. God, were you a sight for sore eyes.

“None of your concern. My management already told you that I don’t have to tell you everything and don’t always need to come where I-.”

The veins that decorated his hand grabbed a hold of your arm before swiftly turning you around and slamming your back against his car, his eyes never leaving your shocked ones as his grip tightened. “Does it look like I give two fucks about what your shitty management told ya? I asked where YOU’RE goin’?” “And I said none of your damn business so get away Choso.”

Bodyguard!Choso who has a love-hate relationship with the way you always spoke back to him and could easily push his buttons.

He gave you a look that indicated to not even dare look away from him and as much as you tried to hold your own, you were crumbling. “You're goin’ to see him, ain't you?” Your reaction only confirmed his suspicions when he figured out you were planning to see Ino. “And so what if I am? God, you’re my bodyguard, not my man. So just stop being in my business, Choso.”

“You are my business, so don’t even fuckin’ think I’m letting you go off to him.

Bodyguard!Choso who’s eyeball was uncontrollably twitching the moment you told him to go fuck himself. This was the last final straw for him.

“C’mon doll, say it again. I fuckin’ dare ya.”

You didn’t care how much pain he was causing with the amount of pressure he was putting on your arm. You leaned forward until your glossy lips brushed his ear and could practically feel his pissed off state radiating heat. “Go. And. Fuck. Yourself.”

Bodyguard!Choso who knew you would have benefited from taking back your word and simply apologising since he now had you bent over his lap in the backseat of his car.

God, were his fingers massive. Two thick digits of his furiously pushed further in your slick walls over and over whilst his fat thumb bruised your puffy clit. “Fuck fuck f-fuck, Choso I-I take it back! I’m sorry!” With Choso’s other hand, sharp stinging slap was delivered to your ass, causing you to yelp out and make your body jolt up.

"But you wasn’t sorry before? That’s what I thought, you dumb whore.”

Bodyguard!Choso who in that moment developed a voice fetish for your voice only. Just hearing your sweet moans and whimpers made his bulge begin to hit your stomach.

“Mmm the more ya keep on squirmin’ like this, the more I won’t stop. Not that I’ll stop anytime soon.”

Without warning, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, the sudden emptiness causing your lips to tremble. His fingers were glistening with your slick juices, and shoving them in your mouth caused your moans to vibrate on his fingers. His other hand reached over to your pinging phone, successfully unlocking it and opening up the notification from Ino.

“Ahh, that borin’ fuck is asking where ya at… Pick your poison ‘Miss Popular Influencer’, we sendin’ him a voice or video recording for when I fuck your brains out?”

[blu3berryuwu9681]

Psycho (Gojo x nurse! Reader part 2)

A/N: You guys can listen to this in the background if you want!!

Song: Ao no Sumika (Hidden Inventory arc opening) by Tatsuya Kitani

There he was, the strongest sorcerer, just staring at you. It looked liked you were talking to the head matron, who was being very stubborn. In that brief time, he started noting how the room looked.

Gojo's POV:

"Wow. This is the room they gave me. This shabby no-good place is supposed to keep me, the strongest sorcerer?"

Just then, she entered the room, holding a clipboard to her chest.

"Uh... Gojo-san? Um, I'm your assigned nurse for your stay in here, Y/N L/N. Or just Y/N, that's fine too."

I stared at her for what seemed like a good ten minutes before I got up, my tall frame towering over hers. Funny how there are some humans who think they can survive in this world with such a short, petite, *delicate* frame. I mean, she looks like she can crumble with a single flick!

I chuckle, staring at her through my blindfold. I mutter her name quietly, the feeling of it rolling off my tongue confusing me. It felt good, like someone just gave me cold drinks to drink. Of course, that won't be a hard matter to solve.

"Y/N, huh?"

As she nods, I immediately swoop in and grab her by the collar.

"Listen, Y/N. Be a good girl and get some cold drinks, will you? Or is there not a single vending machine in this godforsaken place?"

I watch with a smirk as she slowly- nervously- brings her clipboard up, covering half of her face with it, and squeaks in a small voice.

"I-I'm sorry, but there isn't any I can provide you with right now..."

I smile in mock hurt.

"Then you'll just have to get out and get me one, don't you? After all, your master demands it."

I chuckle as she slowly nods, trembling. I leave her collar suddenly, causing her to fall down helplessly. "Come on now, don't just sit there."

She slowly gets up, dropping her clipboard and not bothering to pick it up again.

"Clumsy girl..."

I pick it up and notice a list of the patients who came here, noticing my name at the very end. Beside it, written in beautiful loopy cursive font, were the words: 'Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer. Must treat with extra respect.'

I put it down and sigh, not before checking the name of whoever it belonged to. I wasn't surprised to see the name of the nurse who just left. She said her name was Y/N. Pretty well mannered, looks nice too. I guess we can get along.

Just then, someone comes from behind me and presses a handkerchief to my nose. Damn! How could I not notice someone in my room?! I shake my head, trying to shake off the feeling of drowsiness. Fuck whoever created chloroform!

By the time I wake about an hour later, I'm tied to a pole in the middle of the room, with a damn straightjacket on me. Fuck! Well, I want to see how this goes, so I'll play along for now. I mean, I can get out whenever I want, But that damn nurse's memory is stopping me from doing so. Plus, I have to wait for the cold drink.

Y/N's POV:

That... ugh! He's older, so I can't even think anything bad about him! Not to mention, he's the strongest sorcerer!

I exit the hospital building, running as fast as I can to get to the nearest vending machine. I gasp as I see the long line in front of it. It'll take an hour, minimum, to get a drink. Oh well, nice chance to catch my breath.

One hour later, I finally get the drink. Thank God they didn't run out of it! I run back to the hospital, careful not to shake the drink too much. If only I knew what was waiting for me!

I walk to Gojo-san's room, only to see him tied to a pole in the middle of the room.

"Well, Y/N-chan. Didn't expect you to be so obedient, just like a cute little puppy."

I internally slap him at his comment. How impudent could he be?

"Well, as you can see, someone came into my room and very kindly tied me up. Since I can't move my arms, the only option left is for you too feed me. Think you can do that, Y/N?"

I flinch internally. Did I already mention he's impudent?

I move in, pressing the tab down and opening the can. I move in, gently touching his chin with my thumb and index.

"C-can you please open your mouth for me?"

I sigh in relief in my mind, happy that he's finally listening. I press the opening of the can to his soft lips, noticing his pink lips and wondering if he wears lip gloss.

I tilt the can slightly, allowing some of the liquid to flow from the can to his mouth. I tilt it back, stopping the flow and allowing him to gulp it down. I'm pretty surprised at how quiet he is, like a sleeping cat.

I repeat the process again and again, having to plead him to open his mouth by gently pressing my thumb on his lower lip while he keeps staring at me with that mischievous smirk on his face.

"Gojo-san, please, my fingers are getting numb..."

Finally, I tip the last of the can's contents in his mouth, sighing in relief.

"You're surprisingly good at this feeding job... Do you have kids?"

I blush at his comment. Have kids? Who would wanna have kids with me?

"N-no, I'm single."

"Oh, I thought a cutie like you would be taken already."

I'm pretty sure my blush started shing in fifty shades of red at this point.

"C-cutie?"

I watch as he stares at his own hands for a while, apparently thinking deep about something. He looked up at me, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Your hands are pretty soft, and you smell nice too."

I look down, trying to hide my red-stained face from him. I wasn't used to getting compliments from anyone, especially not someone as strong as him.

"T-thank you..."

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[xylatox]

Dark Water | cbg

I've made it!! I've been excited to read this one too, I've read Jjae's work before (Strawberry Land Event) ( I literally only just realized but I'll talk more about that after lol), but I'm so excited to read more of your work!!

The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble rings, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop-off point. — the beginning is already amazing. It already creates thus suspense that has you uneasy but also filled with wonder yknow.

You leaned back on your elbows, pearlescent tail absently flicking ahead of you being the only thing that could give away your position. The long, gossamer-like fins tapered into pretty, elegant points. Delicate. That was a good way to describe you. Though, you supposed your given title was a bit more apt than you'd like to admit. — the descriptions?? immaculate.

The way reader is the Pearl of the Sea, a title that clearly has a weight to it and ironically feeds into the temptation? I love it.

To be your own thing, your own merman, free from your peoples watchful eye, from your father’s. — I love when characters have parental issues, because it becomes such a driving force plot wise.

Your brow creased as you read further on, eager for the context behind the title, The Banishment of the Dark Cecaelia.  — the title??? how do you come up with this omg.

I am such a loser when the theme of cannibalism comes up. Like whether it's literal cannibalism or used as an expression of love, it absolutely drives me insane.

Oh? That gave you pause. This was the first time you had heard someone speak of the Dark Cecaelia in such a manner. Was that… thirst you detected in that woman's tone? How peculiar. — oh this has me giggly

THE LITTLE ONE NICKNAME????? WHAT IF I DIED.

“You could say that.” Fuck. Right. Of course. Who else were you expecting it to be? Perhaps you were hoping for it to be a younger merman, playing pranks on passerbys. How unfortunately wrong you were. — I love how intense this feels

I love that Gyu is misunderstood when referencing the scrolls, like it makes you wonder more about his kind.

Hehe Gyus entire reveal! I'm absolutely obsessed with the tension between them.

“Easy, pretty. Easy.” A hand gripped your chin gently, much more gently than you could have ever expected, and guided you to look into his eyes. Gods those eyes, you could get lost in them forever, fall and fall and fall and never escape their depths. Your body immediately relaxed upon the eye contact, turning as soft as kelp in his hold. — what if I go insane and die.

“You will disappoint me no longer. You will become King someday, and I will be damned if I let childish rebellion be the end of our powerful kingdom. Leave me.” Your father waved his wrist, not even sparing you a glance. — shitty dads always annoy me, it hurts that despite all that, reader continues to yearn for his approval.

Suckers pulled at your skin, leaving angry red blooms across your soft skin, and it fucking burned. Gone were the sure, strong touches you were yearning for, all was replaced by the way this cecaelia seemed to want to rip you to shreds.  — this is insane???? the way reader is literally fighting for his life, insane.

“You are not like your father.” He spoke with finality, like he was unsure of the truth of the statement before, like you had just proved him wrong. Perhaps you had. Perhaps he saw you differently, now. The thought should make you preen, but it only served to make you glower, anger slowly simmering back to life. — despite the literal hell readee went through, I love that Gyu just wants reader to fight, it's kind of sweet.

“Once we are home, I will tell you,” He soothed, like he was speaking to a fussy infant. The implication of his tone made your ears warm. Home? He must have seen your expression at the word, and your subsequent confusion over it, but he made no move to clarify. As far as he was concerned, it seemed his home was now yours. Maybe that was enough for now, your thoughts grew too muddled to properly sort them, so you succumbed to the urge to return to the safety of his neck. — this is absolutely insane??????

Reader finally learned Gyus name :((( I'm so fucking soft rn, the way they're together?? obsessed.

“My pearl,” He replied in kind, delicately cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He had that soft, awed look on his face again that made you feel wholly wanted, wholly desired. You sighed against his palm, leaning into it to press a kiss to the skin closest to your lips. “If you do this, you can never go back. You know this, right?”— god I love their dynamic and relationship so much what the fuck.

They got their happy ending :((( I'm so glad reader took control of his life and is happy. Jjae!!! this was a wonderful read! I had the pleasure of reading your fic for the Strawberry Event, back when I started to become active and it was literally the most insane thing I read like???? it was so good??? (i was also slow as fuck (i skip most warnings ngl) and i didnt even realize you wrote a male!reader but youre so fucking cool for that??)your writing is so intense and insane I absolutely love it. I'm so glad I got to read another one of your works!

Dark Water.

pairing; cecaelia!beomgyu × merman!reader

genre; horror/thriller (??? I think??? theres a lot of tension.) Suggestive, no explicit smut. Hint of fluff.

warnings; lots of tension, implied/referenced sexual content, light petting, this is basically 90% foreplay and tension, mentions of cannibalism, blood and injury, reader gets attacked yk the vibes, character death (but not main!!!), older gyu/younger reader vibes, merman/kingdom au.

synopsis; The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble circles, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop off point. ― The Pearl of the Sea, you were called. A pretty little prince, beloved by all within the city. You followed the rules. Plans had been made for your whole life, all you had to do was stick to it.

Beomgyu was never part of those plans.

wc; 10,847 (oof... longest fic to date.)

jjaes comments; *slaps roof of fic* this bad boy can fit so much unnecessary lore in it. sorry theres no smut in this one. I want to eventually circle back and turn this into a full blown chaptered fic. in the words of serene, kills myself.

[m.list] [event m.list]

The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble rings, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop-off point. 

The drop-off point which was, funnily enough, immediately before you. You lounged on a soft bed of seagrass, your short platinum hair floating along to the whims of the warm current around you. You were decently tucked away from view, having found a small alcove just off the main seagrass plains. You leaned back on your elbows, pearlescent tail absently flicking ahead of you being the only thing that could give away your position. The long, gossamer-like fins tapered into pretty, elegant points. Delicate. That was a good way to describe you. Though, you supposed your given title was a bit more apt than you'd like to admit.

The Pearl of the Sea, you were called. A pretty little prince, beloved by all within the city’s gleaming mother-of-pearl walls. You were a treasure among treasures, the only son of the Iron King sat upon the gleaming throne of the sea. Your father had a commanding presence, far more than your own, but you didn't seem to mind that. No, a pretty little thing like yourself was occupied with little else than keeping your head down and getting your work done perfectly. You held perfect grades, you were the shining smile present at every charity event, a giver to the people who fawned over you. That favour seemed to compound when you remained oblivious to it, a humble, delicate thing. 

Who was currently breaking one of the most serious rules you had ever been given. It wasn’t even your idea, something had called you here. Perhaps not vocally, but there was a siren song around this forbidden area. How could something so beautiful be so condemned? So after a particularly stressful day of studying and volunteer work, you finally gave in to the sweet temptation. 

The sight wasn't as captivating as you expected it to be. Sure, the overlook to the deeper waters, far more dangerous than the shallows you've spent your life in, were fascinating. You witnessed aquatic life, both plant and animal, in a way you had never taken the time to do before. Just observing, watching the way natural life unfolds when it is too far from your fathers influence to be contained. 

Though, after the sun's rays began to turn the surrounding water to honey hues, you had begun to grow bored with just observing. Part of you longed to know what it felt like, even for a moment, to be away. To be your own thing, your own merman, free from your peoples watchful eye, from your father’s. 

Oh, gods. What would he think if he knew you were here, now? He would surely be angry, surely would demand an answer that you didn’t have. Why did you come out here, anyway? You weren’t entirely sure yourself. You glanced up to the water's surface, the sunset refracting through the gentle waves and bathing you in the gentle warmth of the last light of day. Your eyes slid shut for a moment, basking in the peace. You had to savour moments like these, stolen seconds that you kept close to your heart when the stress of your structured life got too rough to handle. 

With a sigh, a pretty trail of bubbles spilling past your lips, you pushed off of the seagrass, the blades tickling your fingers as they dug into the silt below for leverage. 

You left a gentle cloud of disturbed sand in your wake as you made to leave, casting one longing glance over your shoulder to the group of young flounders playing beyond the drop-off point. You’ll have to return soon, if not to be sure they remained unharmed. That was a noble enough cause for return, right? Something your father would be slightly more hesitant to deny you if you brought it up as defence, surely. 

Content with the newfound addition to your schedule, a strong flick of your tail helped carry you closer and closer to home. 

–

The scroll room was a quiet place, compared to the hustle and bustle of the city just outside its walls. Shelves upon shelves, chests on chests were overflowing with information ripe for the picking, and you were a near permanent fixture here. Small and eager, tucked between shelving units as you delved into another scroll. This was a more recent historical account, it seemed, from the first years after your birth. You could hardly be expected to remember much from that time, your memories being mostly of your mother and the gentle tingle of your favourite shell toy.

You had no idea those years were so.. Dangerous. 

Your brow creased as you read further on, eager for the context behind the title, The Banishment of the Dark Cecaelia. 

Cecaelia? That rang a bell. Octopus mermaids, you recalled. Fearsome chimera not too unlike your own people in appearance, but worlds apart in behaviour. You recall bedtime stories about the drop-off point, lessons hidden in rhyme of the dangers that awaited those who ventured too far into the deep water. But what dangers were you warned of? You struggled to remember. 

The cecaeliae were once a proud people, fearsome in both behaviour and sheer number. They populated every inch of our kingdom, they ran shops, held office not unlike the rest of us do. But there was always something different, something darker in nature about these chimera, that we civilized mermaids simply could not abide by.

The issues came to a head during the Great Famine. Food was scarce, resources were far scarcer. Mermen, women and children alike were floundering in hunger, and the kingdom fell into despair. Our great King was working tirelessly, attempting to solve our issue. Our top scientists blamed the issue upon overpopulation and the rising water temperatures, both of which we could do little about.

But the Dark Cecaelia had a plan. He held high office, the King's right hand in both peace and wartime, and he claimed to have devised a solution to our problem. Something he claimed would reduce our numbers in a controlled way, and would solve our hunger problems simultaneously. 

Your eyes widened upon the sight of the next word. 

Cannibalism. 

No, that couldn’t be. Sure, mermen were omnivorous, capable of eating a wide variety of foods, but.. turning to cannibalism seemed too barbaric. Too uncivilized. Apparently, this Dark Cecaelia held no such opinions. Now that you think about it, were cecaeliae omnivorous like other chimeras? Octopi were carnivores… So did that imply that cecaeliae followed by the same rules? You shuddered at the thought of sharp teeth and venom.

He sought an audience with the King, and brought before him a properly devised plan. Down to the smallest detail, the way they would select the expendable and feast on their flesh, using cecaelia venom to minimize the agony of the selected. “Humane” methods, he claimed. The court was horrified at the extent to which this plan had been drawn to. In a fit of righteous rage, the King demanded how the Dark Cecaelia could have drawn up this horrific solution on such short notice, to which he shrugged, claiming it was the most logical and obvious solution to our societies' issues.  

The senate convened, terrified that if they denied the Dark Cecaelia his plan, that it would come to fruition in the form of a coup. The decision to banish all Cecaelia from the kingdom was immediate and unanimous. The Dark Cecaelia himself was brought before his kin and his hair was cut in a ceremonial message of disgrace before he, too, was banished to the deep water beyond the drop-off point for the rest of time. 

You snapped the scroll shut with shaking hands, eyes wild with fear. The drop-off point. The place you were lounging by with ease, the tips of your fin teasing over the edge of the cliff… The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could have been seen by your father, sure, but the thought of being seen by the Dark Cecaelia himself brought shivers down your delicate spine. How could you have relaxed there so flippantly, ignorant of the dangers lurking just below you, just out of sight? You could never return. That much, you were sure of.

–

“Did you hear?” 

“...Another sighting…”

You sighed loudly, bubbles tickling your cheek as they dissipated around you. News traveled fast, it seemed. There were more rumors now than ever before, though you paid no mind to it, preferring to stay in the comfort of your study material. 

“I heard the tentacles were blacker than any squid ink…”

“I heard they are as big as your forearm..! How terrifying…”

You’ve been reading the same line over and over for the past 5 minutes, the words failing to leave any lasting impression on your brain. It had been well over a full moon-cycle since you found yourself at the drop-off point, and apparently there had shortly thereafter been a poor merman who supposedly saw tentacles retreating into the inky blackness of the deep water. You had heard all the salacious (hyperbolic, too, no doubt) details, causing you to heave a bubbled sigh and continue with your work. You had more important things to do than to entertain such stories. You still feared the Dark Cecaelia, that much was true, but you began to grow apprehensive of the public’s view of him. They spoke of him as a legend, as a fable, treating him like he was merely a story instead of a recent blight within the kingdom. It had been 19 years since his removal from society, why were your people so confident about his absence to speak of him so freely? 

“Oh! And I heard–” 

You snapped your scroll shut, hands pressing palm-down onto the driftwood table before you. Your eyebrows pinched together in frustration, eyes squeezed shut to drown out the passerby’s comments. 

“I heard he’s hot. Devastatingly so.” 

Oh? That gave you pause. This was the first time you had heard someone speak of the Dark Cecaelia in such a manner. Was that… thirst you detected in that woman's tone? How peculiar. 

You shook the thoughts from your head. No, that was a most improper train of thought. You needed to focus, and this scroll room seemed to have no peace left to give you. With a delicate huff, you gathered your things and fled the room.

–

It seemed nowhere was safe from the mumbles about the Dark Cecaelia. The whole city– the whole Kingdom, it seemed– had heard of the recent supposed sighting. The comments within the city walls ranged from abject horror to… other topics. You don’t think you could stomach hearing another theory about what those tentacles could do. 

You had fled the Kingdom’s walls with no destination in mind. You only knew you needed to get out of there, to finally find some peace to continue your studies. If you were going to rule one day, you had to be perfect– there was simply no room for error. 

Though, perhaps you spoke too soon. You, in your panicked fleeing, had managed to get lost. Horrifically so. You were still in the shallows, it seemed, but night was approaching fast and you had no idea which direction home was in. Your heartbeat quickened to a dangerous pattering, fast and dangerous like the sound of a storm cloud emptying over the sea. Your head spun. How were you going to get home?

You pressed your shaking hands into fists, attempting to use the pressure to ground yourself. It seemed to work… Perhaps your studies about keeping your head under pressure like your father was paying off. You had half a mind to thank your tutor when you got home. When, yes. Not if. You’d make sure of it. What was it your father said to do when you got lost as a guppy? Breathe. Take stock of your surroundings.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the fading light of day still reaching beyond your closed eyelids. You sucked in a cool lungful of saltwater, letting the feeling wash over you before you opened your eyes slowly. 

Adjusting to the light, you slowly began focusing on the open shallows around you. The seagrass was sparse here, but you dont think youve ever seen such a large grouping of coral before in your life. There was all matter of aquatic life surrounding the reef, anemones and small schools of fish swimming about, playing together. The sight reminded you of the flounders at the drop-off point. You wondered if they were still safe, still playing just beyond your reach. 

Your eyes turned to the sections of kelp, swaying in the sea current and stretching up to the water’s surface. The current was moving west, you noted. Might be helpful to remember should you choose to follow it to see where it leads. Hopefully home.

When you glanced up to the water's surface, you could just barely make out the beginnings of stars in the dark expanse above it. What was it the scrolled called it? The sky? That sounded about right. A place where water floated in light groupings called “clouds” and sprayed their weight back into the sea where it belonged. You felt quite like the water in those clouds now, actually, far from where you belonged. That was when you heard it. 

You could almost convince yourself that it was a trick of the ears, but the deep gurgling behind you made the repetitive motion of your tail still. Something was behind you, something big. You didn’t want to turn around. Here you were, all alone, so far from home that you didn’t even know where you were, but–

The gurgling changed. It sounded repetitive, mirthful. A laugh? So it wasn’t a something but rather a someone. You weren't sure which was worse, really. A rogue sea creature or a sentient being. But the area around you appeared barren save for the small sealife. Who would even live out here? Who could?

“Little one.”

You bristled at the tone. The voice was deep. It rolled over you like too-warm water, thick and heady. You didn’t dare turn towards it.

“Lost?” 

The words seemed stunted, like they were coming from lips that were unsure of their form. This stranger couldn’t have been from the kingdom. Or, if they were– your brain supplied– they hadn’t been there in a very long time. 

“No,” Was your eloquent reply. You were hoping you sounded sure of yourself, like a future king. Like your father. The words fell flat, shaky and hesitant, betraying your nerves. The gurgling laughter began again with gusto.

“No? You seem lost. Frightened?” The voice sounded amused, like an angler toying with its food. The comparison made you uneasy. You were top of the food-chain, here. You should act like it.

With your shoulders squared, face set in a carefully blank expression, you finally turned.

Only to be met with nothing. Were you imagining the voice? Were you hallucinating? You had to be. You turned around, looking left and right–

Oh. To your right, just far enough away that it wasn't noticeable at first glance, was the drop-off point. The jagged cliff edge was unmistakable now that you saw it. Your shoulders did not lose any tension upon the new knowledge, though you were glad to be in a familiar place. Home wasn’t that far away.

But then the situation clicked in your head. The unfamiliar cadence of a voice unused to speaking in the common tongue, the location, the laughter.

“Are you the Dark Cecaelia?” You were unable to stop the words from tumbling from your lips in a rush of bubbles. You had half a mind to slap your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from endangering yourself further. What were you doing?

The laughter came again, deep, guttural, twisted. You swallowed thickly, flicking your tail to back away slightly. You couldn't see over the edge, you were too far away. But even that distance seemed too little. Too close.

“You could say that.” Fuck. Right. Of course. Who else were you expecting it to be? Perhaps you were hoping for it to be a younger merman, playing pranks on passerbys. How unfortunately wrong you were.

“You were here before,” The voice continued, unperturbed by your fearful silence. You felt your blood run cold, like polar water had been dunked over your unsuspecting head.

“..You saw me.” It shouldn’t be surprising. Of course he saw you. Why wouldn’t he? If this is where he was banished to, why wouldn’t he see you lounging prettily at his doorstep? The idea that this faceless evil had been watching you from afar, while you sat unsuspecting, made you suddenly want to cry. 

“I saw you.” The cecaelia confirmed. He sounded much too amused for your taste, causing your brows to crease in frustration, lips drawing into a pretty pout.

“Why can’t I see you?” The unknown was too scary. It left your imagination to run wild, piecing together all the little rumors you tried to ignore upon first listen. They all came to you now. Ink-black, large tentacles, sharp teeth, venom, deep voice. You couldn't even begin to picture his face, what the rest of him looked like. Perhaps knowing, having concrete evidence of his appearance would vanquish the worst of your fear. You were skilled enough in combat, could probably flee with relative ease should this turn sour, but something was rooting you to the spot. Something deeper than fear, something stronger. 

Curiosity. The need for knowledge, the desire to know everything. It held you fast in your spot, unable to hide behind anything. You were in the open, with nowhere to run but away, as fast as your fins could take you. 

“Why do you want to?” That was a fair question. Why did you ask that of him? Why couldn’t you keep your curiosity to yourself? Why couldn’t you be stronger, fearless– …Like your father. Why couldn’t you be like him? What would he do now? You paused for a moment, considering your options. Running like a coward was lower on your list than ever, unwilling to experience the shame of such an act, lest your father find out. That only left confidence, something that was failing you presently. You cleared your throat, hoping it would find you now.

“Because it is impolite to not look one in the eyes when speaking. We are speaking, no? Why do you hide?” Fuck. Now you’ve done it. Directly confronting the Dark Cecaelia himself, taunting him to reveal himself when he was already being kind enough to spare you the terror of beholding him. Why did you want that confidence, again? It seeped from your body like blood from a wound. Could he smell blood? …Could he smell fear?

“Politeness is useless out here.” His voice still held the air of amusement you detected previously. That was good. You hadn’t made him angry just yet. However, his reply only brought about more questions. If the customs of your home were null and void out here, just beyond the kingdom’s reach, what did matter? How should you conduct yourself? You were used to rules, your whole life was planned before you. How should one behave in a vacuum of that security, without that safety net to fall back on? Your confusion must have been clear as day upon your face.

“Power is what matters. Survival. Base instincts.” He sounded closer, yet you still couldn't see him. He must be lingering somewhere nearby, taunting you. You felt the weight of his gaze, the intensity burning your scales like scalding seawater from a thermal vent. Where was he?

“Power, of which you have none.” His words cut you deep, a painful laceration to remind you of your place, here. You had nothing. You were at his mercy, and apparently he thought it imperative to remind you of it, to let the knowledge of your own helplessness seep into your body like venom.

“Power? I–” You hesitated. He was right, you were essentially powerless. This was, in fact, his home, his domain. You were the stranger here. Even more worrisome was the fact that while you were skilled in combat, you had never fought a cecaelia. All of those extra, powerful limbs.. Realistically, what could you do in the face of that? He was entirely correct. That gurgling laughter bubbled up again. It didn’t matter what direction you turned in, it felt like he was surrounding you. He was close, and it was making your heart race to know that you wouldn’t even see him coming should he attack.

“Name.” It wasn’t a request. He did warn you, you supposed. There were no formalities out here. No societal niceties where there was no society to begin with. Your hands trembled at your side as you clenched them into fists. Somehow, you could feel his gaze dip to watch the movement. 

The second your name fell from your lips, you could sense a shift. Something darker, much more dangerous swirled in the water around you. You had the gnawing feeling that you had just made a critical error. The laughter reached a fever pitch, near hysterical in its glee. 

“The King’s son.”

You nodded in affirmation, the movement jerky and hesitant. Your tail twitched with the desire to flee, but the weight of that gaze kept you pinned. 

“Come to the cliff edge.” Another command. From his reaction to your name, you knew better than to try anything. He seemed on edge, now. Like a predator rearing back slowly, preparing to strike. You’ve never felt more like prey in your life, shivers licking up and down your spine and making your tail tremble as a result. That same shaking tail that carried you closer to what you could only assume was an attack. 

But no attack came. You peered over the edge slowly, big eyes wide so as to not miss a single movement in the water below. What your gaze caught on, however, was that same school of flounders you had seen before. They were playing again, tumbling around each other happily. Your eyes caught on something else floating around them, something you slowly began to recognise as fish food. You had a shell-full of it at home to feed your own pets–

Pets. 

These flounders were pets. His pets.

“You like them. You watched them play.” He was definitely watching you the entire time you were here last. But if he was right there watching you, why…?

“Why didn’t you come out last time?” You had to know. None of it made sense. Why wasn’t he attacking? Why did he not attack last time, either? Why was he so content to just sit and watch?

“Pretty,” was his simple reply. As if it was obvious, as if you were stupid for not figuring it out. Pretty..? Sure, you were familiar with the term, were used to it being used to refer to you. But like this? From his mouth, the word coated in that thick accent– it felt different. 

It felt good.

“That doesn’t–” You stumbled over your words, pink heat kissing the apples of your cheeks. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you come out?” You felt a bit like a child right now. Petulant. Demanding. You normally never acted like this, like a whiny brat seeking attention, but the very idea that he was right here and chose to stay hidden and watch just rubbed you the wrong way. He should face you. He should watch you where you could s–

Oh. That’s a new thought. You wanted him to watch you, you didn’t want him to stop. What’s worse is you seemed to want to watch him watch you. Gods, what was happening to you? 

“I do not owe you an answer, little one. Do you need to be reminded again?” Heat continued to flush your cheeks, spreading down your chest and up to the tips of your ears. You burned with embarrassment, yet you still had half a mind to smack your tail against the silt out of childish frustration. Tears pricked your eyes, becoming one with the water around you.

“But, I–”

“But nothing. If there is something you want, you must say it with confidence. Anything less will get you killed out here.” He didn’t sound angry. On the contrary, he almost sounded amused, as if he was gently scolding a confused guppy. The feeling made your stomach turn in a way you were unfamiliar with. “The others are not nearly as kind as I am.”

Others. You had entirely forgotten that there was a whole group of cecaeliae out here, waiting to exact their revenge on the child of the King directly responsible for their exile. But that begs the question…

“Why are you so kind? The scrolls paint you as a heartless monster…” You trailed off, belatedly realising what you had just admitted. You had actively sought out information on him, you just admitted to wanting to know more. That knowledge was dangerous. 

“Why am I not what the scrolls say I am?” He finished for you, no doubt watching you closely when you nodded in affirmation. He paused for a moment, the contemplative silence stretching between the two of you. You ached to see him, to see what he looked like when he was so deep in thought, mulling over his next words with careful consideration. “Why are you not like your father?” 

Answering a question with another question? Classic deflection. The bratty guppy within you reared its ugly head again, this time you did not act quickly enough to tamp down the urge to show your frustration. An irritated groan spilled from you before you could stop it.

“Reveal yourself! I grow tired of this. Let me see you.” You whined, high and needy. You couldn’t control it. Everything this cecaelia said and did pulled these impulses up to the surface, coaxing your worst behaviours out of you with ease. He seemed to have greater control of you than you expected. 

“Hm.” He said nothing more. Silence stretched once again, but there was no contemplation, only stillness. As the seconds swam leisurely by, your anxiety only grew. How badly you wished to eat your words, to fix it, to hide those bitter impulses and bury them where they belonged. 

A hint of movement. Your eyes snapped to it immediately, catching the barest wisp of something in the depths. A tentacle, large and terrifying, slipped just out of view. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

There was another. Then another. You watched them as they squirmed and shifted in the dark water below the cliff, eyes following their lengths to where you hoped he would be. Up, up, up, your eyes followed until–

Eyes. Sharp, piercing, beautiful. Pretty lips and sharp teeth below a sculpted nose, stretched into a carnal grin.

“Thank you, pearl.” Oh, watching his mouth form the words, watching them fall from his lips like a bubble fountain. Gods, all the rumors were right, yet simultaneously did not do him justice. He was stunning, captivating in every possible way. He was so beautiful it was disarming, enough to distract you from just how sharp those teeth really were. No, you were too focused on the pink tongue that darted out to slide along their jagged points. 

Thank you..? Fuck. You said that out loud? You hadn’t been keeping track of yourself since you locked eyes with the Dark Cecaelia. You were much too entranced.

By the time you snapped out of it, you were far away from the cliff edge. You turned around in a flash of panic. How had you moved so far without feeling it? You had to squint your eyes to see the drop-off point, now. You–

Warm. Something warm and big was wrapping around your waist, circling around you entirely and holding you firmly. You looked down at it, stupefied. You should be scared. You should be fighting. You should do something– 

But why would you? It would be futile to fight, and instead of following your mind, you allowed yourself to fall into instinct. You went lax in the grip, allowing the cecaelia to turn you around to face him again. 

Hazy eyes met sharp ones, and you felt thoroughly scrutinized under his gaze. Like a flayed fish before him, stripped bare and vulnerable. You shuddered at the thought. Why? You had no idea. All sensible thought flew out of your mind the second you laid eyes on him. It was much easier to surrender to the feeling rather than fight it. 

He seemed to see something he liked within you, because he drew back with a cocky smirk stretching his lips. Your eyes followed the movement, enraptured. You took him in fully, seeing every detail up close. Shaggy hair fell around his shoulders, looking as if it were shorn by the dullest of blades. His skin was soft, almost begging you to touch. You wanted to touch, so you reached–

A tentacle grabbed you by the wrist, steadfast and secure. You tugged against it experimentally, once again going limp once you were sure the hold wouldn’t budge. By the time your eyes lazily made their way back up to meet his own, his face was much closer again.

“What spell is this..?” You croaked, voice thick and heavy. You couldn’t even begin to explain why you were so affected, only that you were. 

“You are lucky that I was the one who found you.” He easily ignored your question, and you watched in open fascination as his eyebrows creased in worry. You yearned to touch again, to smooth it out for him. Where were these urges coming from?

“Lucky..?” You echoed, cocking your head to the side. Something flashed in his eyes at the movement, and you swore you could feel the tentacle around your waist grip you just a little tighter. You squirmed. “Do that again.” You felt breathless, sounded breathless. You needed to feel that again. You needed to understand that feeling. Before you could clarify any further, a bell sounded in the distance.

A Bell. The belltower from home, signalling the turn of another hour. Home, where your father was no doubt waiting for you to return from the studies you abandoned. If the Dark Cecaelia noticed the way your entire body tensed at the sound and subsequent realisation, he didn’t mention it aloud. Instead, he just watched. His eyes trailed over every inch of your body as it remained stiff as coral under his touch. 

“Home…” You whispered. Your eyes were glazed over, clearly lost in a terrifying spiral of thoughts about what your father would do to you if he ever found out about this, about where you were, about who you were with– Shit. You had to get out of here, you had to–

“Easy, pretty. Easy.” A hand gripped your chin gently, much more gently than you could have ever expected, and guided you to look into his eyes. Gods those eyes, you could get lost in them forever, fall and fall and fall and never escape their depths. Your body immediately relaxed upon the eye contact, turning as soft as kelp in his hold.

“That’s it, pearl…” He soothed, voice deep and smooth, easing over your every worry like a healing salve. What were you so worried about, again…?

“You're going to go home in a moment, pearl– no, do not look at me with such fearful eyes. You will go home, but you will return to me. I expect you here by the second low-tide cycle every day, am I understood?” It was the most you had ever heard him speak in one go, and you were helpless to do anything but nod along. You’d agree to anything he said, it was far too great a temptation to give your assent when you were being held so firmly and spoken to so gently. He clicked his tongue behind razor-sharp teeth. He followed the sound with another command, “Words.”

“Yes…” You trailed, unsure of how long your voice would remain available to you. It felt like everything about you was fading in the face of such comfortable power. He cocked an eyebrow, expectant. You didn’t even have to think before the correct sentence bubbled past your lips, ticking both of your faces upon their exit from your pretty lips. 

“Yes, sir.”

–

“Where the hell were you? Do you have any idea how many guards I had scouring the Kingdom for you? Have you any clue the uproar your little vanishing stunt is going to cause?” Your father boomed, his voice slicing through the usually peaceful water within the pristine walls of the throne room. You kneeled before him, an acceptable distance away, head bowed in humility. Your hands were clenched together in fists in your lap, and you willed yourself to remain as perfectly poised as you had spent your whole life training to be.

“Father–”

“Save it. I do not wish to hear whatever feeble excuse you have to offer. My opinion remains the same. I have been far too gentle with you, allowing you to study in spaces of your choosing and on your own time. No more. You will adhere to a stricter schedule, and you are not permitted to leave your chambers until I deem you fit enough to be seen by the public once again.” Your father pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, and the hot shame of humiliation seeped into your bones slowly. What were you supposed to do? You could never raise a word against your father. While your subjects regarded you highly, they had no idea the power imbalance that occurred behind closed doors. They had no idea the treatment you truly faced within these gleaming walls, which, to you, seemed more akin to a prison. 

A gilded cage. 

“You will disappoint me no longer. You will become King someday, and I will be damned if I let childish rebellion be the end of our powerful kingdom. Leave me.” Your father waved his wrist, not even sparing you a glance. You sucked in a slow gulp of seawater, trying to steady your shaking limbs as you pushed yourself up from your place on the floor. You were used to this, but the humiliation never ceased. No matter how much you disliked your father, part of you continued to yearn for his approval, to be told you were enough, that you did well, that you were loved. But you knew your place. You may be related by blood, but the weight of the crown overshadowed any allegiance. 

So you accepted your fate with your head bowed, and made your way silently to your chambers under the watchful eye of a guard you had never bothered getting to know the name of.

–

Once the doors had been closed and locked behind you with a resounding finality, you allowed yourself to sink pathetically onto your bed. The soft sponge gave way under you, cradling your body as you tried to burrow deeper into its comfort. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to hide from it all. 

You groaned. It was fruitless, of course. Running was never an option for you. You had a kingdom to take over one day, to rule over your subjects with an iron fist like your father and his father before him. Was that really you, though? The Pearl of the Sea, ruling like your father, the Iron King? It was unlikely. You knew you weren’t cut out for the same method of ruling, but he refused to hear it. What he wanted, he got, and that included you. You’d become whatever he wanted you to be, and you had no choice over the matter. When you lifted your head, your gaze caught on the closed shutters of your windows. 

If you were trapped here, you might as well be productive, right? Perhaps even enjoy the view? With limbs that felt like the lead on a fishing line, you eased yourself up and swam closer to your windows. You eased the shutters open, watching the waves far above you dance and refract the light of the sun above. You remember from your studies and first-hand sightings that creatures lived up there, whole civilizations thrived above water. Though part of that couldn’t quite make sense in your brain, especially when you were younger. How could one swim above water? How could one breathe? You knew better, by now, but it still seemed funny to you. You rested your head upon your hand, leaning against the windowsill as you continued observing and contemplating the world around you. Far off to the east, you could barely make out the looming shadow of the mainland, the grey rocks forming the cliffside were unmistakable. You remember seeing creatures with long appendages instead of tails, even recently hearing a group of merpeople set upon bullying a poor humanoid while you sunbathed on a nearby rock. You wouldn’t call them friends, not really. Friends aren’t as cruel or power-hungry as those merpeople were. You considered their behaviour to be much more in line with sirens than mermaids. In that case, the bullying wouldn't have surprised you. Sirens were tricky, fickle creatures. A darker variety of chimera like the cecaeliae.

Upon the thought of him, your eyes darted immediately to where the drop-off point was. You could just barely see the grass plains that lay before it. Sometimes, when the water currents were at ease and the water pollution was low, you could clearly see the outcrops of shale and volcanic rock that made up the drop-off point. To your knowledge, the area itself was set on the edge of a vast crater, deep and dangerous. No civilized merman would venture down there, not voluntarily. You had to be truly cruel to survive in such an environment, where most places within the crater not even the light dares to touch. 

Anything less will get you killed out here…

You shuddered at the memory of deep-voiced warnings, of warmth and the security and strength that came with being held fast and still by something bigger than yourself. The second low-tide cycle was usually around the few hours surrounding midnight, when the sky and sea were as dark as void. You were trapped up here, unable to leave the rooms that comprised your chambers. How were you supposed to honour your promise? Leaving the Dark Cecaelia waiting was simply not an option. You were not stupid enough to make an enemy of him.

This left you in quite the dilemma. You were at a crossroads, knowing either way could spell your ruin. Just what chances were you willing to take?

You shifted your gaze to the kingdom below you– or, more accurately, the ground far below your window. The sun would be setting soon, and with it, the tides would change. You sent one glance behind you to the doors, which remained untouched as they were when you first were locked inside. Your father had never loved you. No amount of following his commands would change that. But his enemy..? 

You would need to wait for the cover of night to find out.

– 

The eerie quiet of the seagrass plains were unsettling to say the least. You shifted the bag on your shoulder, your minimal items clinking together quietly. It was a good thing you had the foresight to wrap them in cloth first before absconding out your open window. Of course, you stuffed pillows under your sheets to make it appear you were there should someone open your door to check on you, but it was merely a precaution. You knew no one would. 

You didn’t have much, just a few essentials. Your pouch was filled with seashells, emergency rations and a few select weapons. You came out of your room with a goal in mind, and you were going to see to it that it was accomplished. 

Everything looked different under the glaring lack of illumination breaking through the waves overhead. The churning of them made you uneasy. There must be a storm kicking up. You frowned, finding it harder to swim toward your destination when the currents picked up more and more, the further you swam along. Your arm came up to shield your eyes from the silt that mixed in with the more aggressive currents, trying and failing to aid your view of the area surrounding you. Just a bit further, you could almost see the cliffs edge–

Warm. Something warm and big slithered around your waist, and you immediately wanted to relax into the touch but… Something about it. Something about the weight of it, the warmth, the feeling–

Wrong. It was all wrong. Immediately you began to thrash, to shake off the hold on your waist, but it was already too late. You were being dragged, harshly, through the churning water. You tried opening your eyes, willing to brave the onslaught of sand in order to free yourself, but you stopped short. Ink. You were surrounded by ink. You couldn't see out, and the chilling realisation settled in your body that it also meant no one could see you. Even if you managed to cry out for help loudly enough to catch someone's attention, cecaelia ink alone would dissuade them from coming to your aid. You were on your own, here. 

Suckers pulled at your skin, leaving angry red blooms across your soft skin, and it fucking burned. Gone were the sure, strong touches you were yearning for, all was replaced by the way this cecaelia seemed to want to rip you to shreds. 

“Evil thing,” The voice mocked you, unfamiliar and scary. “You will pay for your fathers crimes with your blood.” You couldn’t afford to be rendered still by fear, you had to move. You swung your arm out, reaching blindly for the bag you were carrying. If you could reach your weapons, if you could reach anything, you could better your chances of survival. You felt the brush of the familiar material against your fingertips, and you slammed your hand down on it, hoping it would give you enough leverage to grip the knife inside without leaving yourself too open to attack–

Crunch. 

White-hot pain seared up your arm. A scream bubbled from your lips, unbidden and guttural in its anguish. You didn’t need to see the damage to know that your forearm was broken. Quite badly, if the feeling was anything to go by. You had bigger issues to worry about. Snickers seeped into the inked water around you, amused by your pained cries. The grip on your waist loosened just enough for you to seize your chance. Swallowing the bile rising in your throat due to the pain, you reached again with purpose. Your fingers found purchase around the cold hilt of your knife. You were infinitely glad that the damaged arm was not your dominant one as you fixed your grip on your weapon. What was it your instructor always said?

Find an opening, strike.

You needed that opening. An opening you did not currently have, not with the way this cecaelia was ripping at your waist and tail. Sharp teeth and nails found your skin, tugging with the intent to tear you apart. It was working, clearly. The tangy smell of your blood mixing in with the disgusting smell of ink in the water. You were surely going to attract other predators if you didnt get out of here fast– assuming you lived long enough to do so.

Luckily, the bloodied wounds marring your skin proved to be just the opening you needed. The substance made the cecaelia’s grip slip off of your torso, leaving him unsteady and open for attack. Your previous combat practices rung in your ears. 

Strike.

You swung your good arm, striking the cecaelia and burying the knife deep into the side of his ribs. Clearly not anticipating the return of violence, he fell back just enough that his tentacles released you. You stood your own ground, now, falling into a much more familiar fighting stance. Your body was weary, coated in blood and your arm hurt, but the adrenaline settled into something worse than instinct. You were a predator, after all. 

Act like it.

You didn’t give the cecaelia time to recuperate. You took your opening and lashed with furious precision, a sick satisfaction blooming in you as you watched his blood seep into the water and mix with his own ink every time you drove the knife into him. Tentacles tried to grasp at you, but a harsh slash of your knife through the gummy flesh of the appendage, severing it from its host, took care of that problem. You couldn’t hear his screaming anymore, couldn’t hear him pleading for you to let him go.

Your previous fears about attracting predators in the nearby water were all but forgotten. You were the one with the scent of blood in your nose, and you wanted more. 

Slash, slash, slash– 

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You didn’t even know if he was still trying to attack you anymore, but you didn’t take the chance to find out. You just kept stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing–

“Little one.”

You whirled around, a crazed look in your eyes. You must have been quite the sight to behold; blood seeping from your wounds and into the water in delicate whisps, arm broken and turned in a way that looked wrong, bloodied knife clutched in a white-knuckled grip that you immediately raised upon instinct. 

“...How long were you floating there?” Your tone was flat, not truly asking a question. It was a demand– like your father would make. The Dark Cecaelia made no move to reply, instead studying your body as if taking inventory of your injuries. The action only stirred up the dark depths of your fury.

“I said…” You approached, chest heaving with the effort it took to keep yourself upright and battle-ready, “How long have you been fucking floating there!?” You were nearly on top of him now, face to face with the cecaelia you came here for, the one you just risked your life to meet at his behest. Your mind flew to wild places, accusatory voices in your head spewing volatile words towards him, ones that you were powerless in your current state to stop. 

“Where the fuck were you!?” You seethed, fist clenching around the hilt of the knife harder, preparing for a strike you had no control over. You were mad with rage, head clouded with bloodlust and self-preservation. Anyone around you was a threat, especially someone who sat there and watched you get attacked and did nothing. Watching. Was that all he ever did? It seemed that way, now. All he had ever done with you was observe, and it never failed to make your skin crawl. The weight of his gaze was too much, too overwhelming, too disarming. Go for the eyes–

A sting erupted in your wrist, forcing you to drop the knife. You were unable to do much else than watch it slowly sink to the sea floor. Your breathing remained uneven, body poised to strike even without the weapon in your hands. You raised the only good one left– Or, you tried to. It didn't move. You strained harder, staring down at the unresponsive limb. You grew frustrated, a growl rumbling in your chest at the mark on your wrist. At first glance, it might seem like a remnant of your earlier fight for your life, but you knew it was much too small to have come from one of your attacker's suckers. No, this was smaller, pointed, like a pinprick.

“Did you just sting me…? What fucking right do you have to do that–” 

“Little one.” He sounded insistent, now, imploring. The tone immediately doused the fire within you like a cool rain, snuffing out the embers of your rage with gentleness. You swallowed, jaw snapping shut.

“You did well. You defended yourself. You took a life in exchange for your own.” He paused, weighing the words in his mouth until he seemed to find the ones he was searching for. His eyes trailed from you to the heap of cecaelia meat behind you. To call it a body would be too kind. He met your eyes again, the moment stretching between you uncomfortably. You didn’t dare speak. He stung you already. It wouldn’t take much else to snuff your life out entirely right now. 

“You are not like your father.” He spoke with finality, like he was unsure of the truth of the statement before, like you had just proved him wrong. Perhaps you had. Perhaps he saw you differently, now. The thought should make you preen, but it only served to make you glower, anger slowly simmering back to life. 

Your arms dangled uselessly at your sides, one from your injury and the other due to his potent venom, but you ached with the need to attack. You were still too high-strung, too deep in your panic for survival. Without your arms, you felt far too vulnerable. You bared your teeth, nose scrunching when he made to approach you further. You snapped at his hand when it approached your face. Too fast, your mind panicked. Threat.

But the touch was soft. Reverent, gentle in a way that sent your fight-or-flight ridden brain into a tailspin. Just as you began to ease into the touch, his grip turned colder, tightening around your chin to force you to look at him. Your eyes snapped open. When had you closed them?

“Not at me. Never at me. If you are to learn to hold your ground properly against a cecaelia and escape unscathed, you will never bare your guppy teeth at me. Am I understood?” His tone was icy, commanding in a way that sunk into your skin like oil. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest still, yet his presence seemed to help even out your breathing anyway. You nodded shakily. His grip softened again, gathering your shaking form up and cradling you close in his arms.

“Close your eyes.” You didn’t really need the instruction, eyes closed as soon as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. You barely knew this creature, but the grip he held you in felt suddenly like safety, a welcome respite for your battered and stressed body. You felt water rush around you, the movement reminding you that you were being taken elsewhere with neither your knowledge nor permission, but you ignored it in favour of nosing against the column on his throat to seek out more of his body heat. 

A chuckle bubbling from his chest should have made you nervous, perhaps even shy, but you were too overwhelmed to react accordingly, to behave as proper as you should be. Customs were left at the Kingdoms gate as far as you were concerned. In his arms, traveling who knows where with this cecaelia… No longer were you a prince, and he your kingdom’s mortal enemy. Instead, you were just you, and he was just… God, you didn’t even know his name. 

“Your name..” You prompted, voice sluggish with exhaustion as it settled deep in your bones, “You never told me.” 

The laughter you had grown familiar with now rang out again, like what you had said was truly amusing. You lifted your head from its comfortable resting place with great effort, and he outright cooed at your bewildered expression. You pouted.

“You know mine, can I not know yours? It’s much too formal to call you by the title my father gave you. It feels insulting…” You confessed, eyebrows pulling together in a furrow. His thumb rubbed gentle patterns into your still-numb arm. 

“Once we are home, I will tell you,” He soothed, like he was speaking to a fussy infant. The implication of his tone made your ears warm. Home? He must have seen your expression at the word, and your subsequent confusion over it, but he made no move to clarify. As far as he was concerned, it seemed his home was now yours. Maybe that was enough for now, your thoughts grew too muddled to properly sort them, so you succumbed to the urge to return to the safety of his neck.

–

When you finally blinked your eyes open, you found yourself in a cave of some sort. The first thing you noticed was that the walls were smoothed out purposefully, little shelves carved into them to hold little bottles of glowing fluids and other interesting trinkets. Magic, your brain sluggishly supplied, cecaeliae can wield magic. 

The second thing you noticed was that you couldn't move. It wasn’t a frightening realisation, somehow your body knew before you looked down at yourself that you were still safe in the Dark Cecaelia’s hold. You took stock of yourself, your body felt… much better. Gone was the bone peeking through your non-dominant arm, it was just as it was before the attack, blemishless and supple skin returned to its former glory. You marveled at it for a second longer before your gaze trailed to the mass of tentacles wrapping around every part of your body. You followed them up, eyes lazily trailing up to meet the eyes of the Dark Cecaelia himself, who was already watching you with an unreadable look in his eyes. In the back of your mind, you registered that he was still rubbing soothingly over your no-longer-numb arm. 

“Beomgyu,” He spoke, voice deep and thick and settling over you as beautifully as his tentacles did. You blanked for a second, blinking at him with sleep still clinging to your lashes. What?

“Beomgyu?” You repeated, head lolling to rest against his shoulder. You were now eye level with his jaw, which you sleepily trailed your finger along the line of, feeling the stubble. It helped remind you that this was real, that he was here and holding you so safely. He smiled.

“My name.” He stated it simply, the hint of a shrug jostling your head ever-so-slightly. You frowned at the movement, which he somehow must have picked up on because he laughed. You wiggled in his grip in retaliation, testing how much you could move and– 

Oh. That felt nice. You felt his grip tighten on you when you struggled, though he knew your struggle was only for show and testing limits. The added pressure made your stomach flip in a way you were beginning to become familiar with. It only ever happened with him. With Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu.” You echoed it again, feeling the weight of it on your tongue, wrapping your lips around the vowels. You liked the way it felt to do so, to say his name and hear him hum in response. You didn’t have the brain power quite yet to notice that you sounded a little too breathless, a little too whiny.

“What is it, pretty?” He prompted, though you could tell by the way he spoke that he wasn’t quite looking for an answer. Your hand was splayed against his chest, and now that you noticed it, you simply couldn’t look away. Your fingers twitched against his skin, nails just barely biting into the flesh. He hummed again, the sound deep and stirring something within you again. 

“Do it again,” you breathed, echoing a request you remember uttering a day prior. Was it only a day ago that you felt this inexplicable pull, a dangerous desire for more? It was hard to wrap your mind around. Surely you were under some sort of spell, but by this point you didn’t care. You needed more. Needed more of Beomgyu.

He tilted his head, as if confused for a moment before realization dawned on him. Ah, yes, he remembered the last time you begged for him so sweetly like that, with not a clue in the world what you were truly asking for. It was adorable, truly. His grip tightened around you once again, pressing against your body from torso to tail. You choked on a gasp.

“Little one.” You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, head too fuzzy from the affect his actions had on you. All you could manage was a distant-sounding hum, and little else. He seemed pleased with that, if the rumble in his chest was anything to go by. You wiggled in his grip again, needy. Needy for what, you didn't quite know. 

“Little one,” He tried again. You hummed again, a bit faster this time. Why wasn't he doing it again? What was taking so long? “Do you even know what you want, right now?”

You shook your head. No, you didn’t. But you didn’t really care to, as long as he continued. 

The tentacles removed themselves from your body, and you keened high in your throat, indignant at being denied. Warm hands shifted your weight, making you sit up. You slowly met his eyes, and the intensity in them froze you in your place. His gaze trailed down, and the image of him staring at something near your lap, slack-jawed and wanting left you feeling like a red-hot iron. Hot, searing the water around you to a boiling point. You squirmed under the weight of it, and found yourself slowly following his gaze. What your eyes finally landed made you freeze.

A slit. Something you knew was there, realistically. You knew biology, of course, but the normally closed opening was open and dripping something thick. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were aroused this whole time? God, if that's what it felt like, you no longer judged those who spent their lives seeking this pleasure. You found yourself gnawing at your lower lip upon the realisation. You hesitantly looked back up at him, hands moving to cover yourself. 

“I– I’m sorry if I made you uncom–” He cut you off, snatching your wrists and pulling them away from your lap. 

“Do not hide yourself from me. Tell me what it is that you want.” His words left no room for debate. They never did. He took command over you like it was as easy as breathing, and with how frequently he did so, it might as well be. You swallowed, trying to combat the lump settling in your throat. You let your hands settle by your side obediently. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out how to answer him. What did you want? Everything, you knew. You wanted everything from him. You wanted to leave your fathers image behind. You wanted to be held again. You wanted to be wrapped up in his tentacles again, unable to escape. You wanted to learn to fight back. You wanted to make Beomgyu proud.

A cheshire grin spread on Beomgyu’s face. Shit. You said that aloud, didnt you? You seemed to do that around him without intending to. His power over you was truly astounding.

“Flattery, my pearl, will get you everywhere you wish to be.” The smile remained, unwavering. It seemed to grow sharper, predatory, and it sent heat licking at the base of your spine. 

“You want to make me proud, want to learn to fight like a real cecaelia? Your father always was hesitant to follow my suggestions, brilliant as they were... But it seems I’ve gained something far greater after my exile.” He trailed a finger along your arm, watching in thinly-veiled amusement as gooseflesh erupted in the wake of his touch. He followed an invisible line, tracing up your shoulder, collarbone, neck, jaw. At last, he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes locked hungrily on your lips. 

“I gained you.”

The words stole the breath from your lips. He.. thought you alone were worth all the torment he went through at the hands of your father? You struggled to wrap your mind around it. Surely this was all just sweet words designed to ensnare, to trap you, keep you pliant against his every whim. If it was, it was working. You were doomed.

“You gained me,” You echoed, unable to look away. He had bewitched you, mind, body and soul, and you were powerless to say no. It was useless to deny it, to pretend he did not possess you wholly. “I am yours.”

A groan tumbled from his mouth, and he leaned forward just a fraction more. You could feel the warm water of his breath rushing over your face, and you suddenly ached for him to be closer, yet his grip held you right where he wanted you. Just a breath away. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He whispered it like a secret, like reverent devotion meant only for you to hear. Your heart swooped dangerously in your chest at the words, squirming slightly. You needed to be closer, needed to feel how true his words were. You needed him to prove it.

“So show me.” Your words were simple, perhaps too simple. You couldn’t stop them if you tried, far too breathless and high-strung to deny the desire any further. You were tired of the tension, of the gaze on you from afar. You needed him up close, needed him to do more than just watch. You needed him to touch.

And touch, he did.

He surged forward with no warning, pressing his lips to yours in a searing, claiming kiss. You immediately yielded to it, allowing him to take what he needed, and give you everything. You thrilled at the contact, the way his lips pressed to yours before he grew too greedy for anything remotely chaste. Sharp teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, creating tiny cuts that made you hiss into the contact, yet you didn’t dare pull away. You couldn’t now, even if you tried. He held you fast against him, a crushing grip against your arms to keep you in place. His tongue traced along the duller edges of your teeth, pressed over the roof of your mouth, tangled with your own tongue, and you were helpless. You wined, high and desperate in your throat. You had never even been kissed before, much less did you imagine your first kiss would be such an intense claiming. You reveled in it, the electric feeling dancing through your body and settling hot and heavy at the base of your stomach. That thick liquid continued to make a mess of your lap, and you outright sobbed when a finger trailed gingerly over the edges, spreading the fluid. 

You felt positively dizzy, pliant and vulnerable to his every whim.

“Beomgyu…” You cried against his lips, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were calling for. You needed less, you needed more, you needed everything. He was somehow able to understand you, smiling against you before finally pulling away. You rocked forward, attempting to chase him. He laughed.

“My pearl,” He replied in kind, delicately cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He had that soft, awed look on his face again that made you feel wholly wanted, wholly desired. You sighed against his palm, leaning into it to press a kiss to the skin closest to your lips. “If you do this, you can never go back. You know this, right?”

Never going back. To the castle, you assumed. The idea of never returning to your father should scare you, but it didn't. You were safe out here, tucked up close to Beomgyu, far from your father’s influence. His power stopped at the drop-off point, the same place where Beomgyu’s began. You would be safe as long as you had him to keep you that way, and there was no doubt he would teach you what he knew, turn you into a fearsome fighting machine. Someone he would be proud to show off to the others. You preened at the idea, nodding your head vigorously.

“I never needed him. I only need you.”

–

If someone had told you just weeks ago that you'd be the lover of the Dark Cecaelia, that you had given up your crown for dark water and uncertainty, you would have laughed them out of the room. There was no way you wouldn’t follow in your fathers footsteps, becoming just like him atop the throne. There was no way you'd give up your whole life for this stranger, for this danger made so obvious by the texts you grew up reading. But Beomgyu was nothing like the scrolls, and you were nothing like your father.

You were happy, and perhaps that was all you ever needed. 

[into-the-milgramverse]

Fuuta crash out when

(don't mind the tags, i'm talking to fuuta)

[illiana-mystery]

Oh look, there I go again...swooning. Just swooning so hard right now.

[b4kuch1n]

I found your Spirou art, sorry for the spam, I have just found out he existed at all and I'm very in love

hey no need to apologize! I don't mind that stuff haha. hope u have a good time on BD tumblr!

[i-only-write-in-purple-ink]

Never tasted a poison as sweet as you have...

Trust Me / The Scorpion and the Frog

[soleilapproves]

Play fighting with Boxer!Sukuna

Note: Reader is referred to as girlfriend at one point.

Masterlist

“Babe.”

“Not right now.”

“Babe.”

“Sukuna, I promise I’ll be done with this book soon.”

He huffed and fell back onto the couch. He had been trying to get your attention for the past 30 minutes but you were adamant on finishing your book. This is all the fault of that damn community book club your coworker recommended you join. Now whenever, you’re off work and Sukuna doesn’t have to train, you’re reading. Usually the two of you spent almost all your spare time together but now you spent half of it reading your newest book for your weekly discussion. You always did your best to spoil him with kisses and cuddles but it was never enough.

Book club be damned, he needed you to be superglued to his side every single second.

“My girlfriend has a side man and he’s made of paper,” he huffed to himself as he watched you intently read. What was so great about your book anyway? Was it worth ignoring your gorgeous (and shirtless) boyfriend? He even had a tattoo of your name on his left pec and you were still choosing to smother a book with your attention.

Sukuna’s wallowing turned him creative- he stood in front of you, trying to make sure your guard was down. You didn’t look up which meant that you were still engrossed in your book. His hand swooped in and swiftly snatched the book from you. “Sukuna,” you groaned. “Give it back, I was at a good part.” You got up to grab it from him but he raised it above his head. “Kiss me.” You glared at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Done, now give it.”

“No,” he nonchalantly replied. “But I kissed you.” You wondered why he was being particularly irritating today.

“That was me begging for a morsel of your attention. Now cuddle me if you want it,” he said and cheekily smirked.

You ignored him and hopped trying to get your book. Sukuna simply dodged your sad attempts and laughed every time you missed. “I don’t even know why you’re trying.” You gave him a pointed look at his comment.

“Okay, fine, you can have your book if you beat me in a fight.”

“What? That makes no sense.” You couldn’t believe this man. “It seems like a fair challenge to me,” he said as he walked to a particularly high shelf and placed your book on top of it. “You know I can just use my stepping stool for that, right?” you said before scoffing at him.

“Then it’s a good thing I hid it.” His sarcastic smile was now pissing you off. “But you literally fight for a living. You have the upper hand.”

“I’m in love with you. Use that as a distraction. Come on, let’s go to the ring.” You were speechless as he dragged you to the fighting “ring” (also known as your bedroom).

Since you had a smaller frame than him, he agreed to let you have the first hit. You sighed and braced yourself. You didn’t have much of a strategy except for charging at him with such a high speed that he’d fall on the bed and would accept defeat.

But as soon as you were in close distance, he caught both your arms, turned you around and threw you on the bed. He didn’t give you a second to get up before he straddled you. “Haha!” he exclaimed. Seeing you all riled up underneath him was a sight he was used to but it never failed to awe him.

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked as he began to lower himself to face you. “This is so unfair! You’re like 200 pounds, I can’t even move you,” you said as you tried to push him off. Sukuna grabbed your hands that were fighting him and he playfully wrestled them. Who knows what would’ve happened if he used his real strength.

Thank goodness for your quick thinking because you remembered that Sukuna was extremely ticklish so you pulled your hand out of his grasp with all the strength you could muster up and started poking his sides. “Babe!” he yelled before toppling over to his side. It was your turn to straddle him and before you could pin his arms beside his head, he caught yours and pulled you down to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. Your cheeks were mushed against the very tattoo of your name.

You were literally stuck in one position. The more you tried to move the tighter he’d hold you. “Sukuna, you cheater. Why do I always do this to myself?” You sighed, accepting defeat.

Sukuna kissed your forehead and laid you both on your sides, still not letting you go. “Sweet, sweet victory,” he whispered to himself.

-•-

I need to be (lovingly) smothered by a beefy nerd. Someone like Clark Kent.

[monsterblogging]

"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel

☒ Word Count: 1,972

Alastor was quite the jealous type. 

You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. 

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable. 

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed. 

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid. 

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh. 

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone. 

Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail. 

You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry. 

"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark. 

"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies. 

"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."

You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside. 

The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband. 

Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back. 

"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another. 

Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. 

A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture. 

Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly. 

"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..." 

Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes. 

A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?" 

Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed. 

"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit. 

All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"